#it should say could have on that last one but i'm too lazy to fix it

[ripplefields]

fuck it aba doodle dump at 11:20

[luveline]

if you’re open to it, could you complete the trio and write smth abt james seeing reader’s scars for the first time, too? ty x

ty for requesting ♡ fem

cw past self-harm [no graphic imagery]

It should surprise James as someone who's never thought about hurting himself, but he has two very important best friends, of which he'd do anything for, who aren't of the same disposition. So when he notices the pale skin of your scars where they criss-cross your chest, your stomach, your thighs, he's almost ready for it. 

You attract sad souls, Sirius had said once, mostly joking. 

But James doesn't think that's true. He just thinks there are more people who needed love and didn't get it than first appears. 

You sit up in your sun lounger. James pretends not to notice when you see him, smiling to himself as you grab your cover up. 

"The sun doesn't feel real, right?" you ask, sitting next to him on the picnic bench. "Late September heatwave. What will global warming think of next?" 

"It's miserable," he says agreeably, though he loves the heat. "That's nice." 

"This?" you ask, waving at your cover up. It's ruched fabric made to drape at your hips, almost like a skirt. 

"Yeah, that. You look really pretty." 

"Thanks, James." Your smile is all kinds of dazzling. "Nice of Sirius to host a party, huh? Now we can make the most of the sunshine. Did he put you in charge of food again?"

He nods to the spread in clingfilm behind you both. It's safe in the shade, the sun kissing to your knees and not much further. "Doesn't he always?" 

"It's good for me. I like your samosas." 

"Which ones? The kheema ones?" He nudges you amicably. "You have good taste. I made a bunch of sliders too, cucumber sandwiches. Don't limit yourself." 

You stay by his side and eventually peel back the clingfilm on one of the plates, stealing quarter sandwiches with one of your legs pulled up on the bench. Your bikini is little and your coverup slips to one side down your leg, scars plainly on show. He has no intention of bringing it up, until you notice what's happened and flinch. He can't hide that he's seen fast enough, horrified when you fluster, you waver, your eyes pinched with humiliation. "Sorry," you say, laughing awkwardly. "I'm flashing you. Sorry." 

He casts a glance around the back garden. Most of your friends squeeze into the lazy spa sweating themselves to death in the sun, and the remainder drink cold drinks by the stereo. No one's watching you but him. 

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says. 

"I just didn't want you to see." 

"Me?" he asks, startled. 

"I mean. Not like that. Not not like that." You tear the crusts off of your sandwich and put them on the plate like you're looking for something to do. "Not like anything." You smile at him a raw shade off of happy. 

"Shortcake, it doesn't bother me one bit. You think I care about that?" He ducks his head. "You're you. All of this," —he makes a small gesture at your front— "is you. I want to see all of it. You don't have anything you need to hide." 

"All of it?" you ask strangely. 

He doesn't get what you're saying but then he does, suddenly, blood rushing to his face and his ears hot as a flame. What a weird thing to say, he stresses to himself. You stupid man. "I'm not a pervert," he says. 

You gawp. He gets hotter, if possible, scratching his hair back from his eyes. 

"I mean, you're beautiful," he says, "anyone would be lucky to see it all. Oh my god." 

You put your ruined sandwich on the edge of the plate and fix the clingfilm as he dies of shame. He's thinking well, courting you was fun while it lasted, all those bad jokes and better hugs, he loved every minute of your attention. 

You laugh. "Most of the time I don't care about them," you confess, and he's so happy to hear your voice rolling over his embarrassment he could run a lap, "they're old. Can't do anything about them. But I didn't want you to think I was some sort of freak." 

"Is that what you think you are?" 

"No, of course not… Silly for doing something like that." 

"I don't think it was silly. We do what we can, right?" He eases his arm around your shoulders in a hug, his hand eager to rub at the top of your arm. "I don't think you're some sort of freak, you're my type of freak." 

"You really don't care?" 

"I care," he says gently, touching the tip of his nose to your cheek before giving you a more friendly amount of space. "A lot. Especially about you, okay? But I don't care about them unless you do. I like you, yeah?" 

"I like you too," you say. 

"Wanna prove it?" 

James asks you to make him a plate of things to graze on while he finds you both a drink. It's not his most romantic of lines, but it means you end up at his side for a dedicated while, flicking condensation at his chest. You don't worry about the coverup again. 

[silverzoomies]

Polaroid

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: solo masturbation. that's pretty much it, sorry

word count: 2,625

a/n: i wrote about him jerking off again. whoops. i've been absent for a week. but i'll be home tomorrow !! and hopefully i can get back into the flow of writing. until then, here's this rushed, unpolished thing i wrote on a whim !! it's super clunky and i'm so sorry lol !!

edit: made some minor changes to this. fixed some things that felt off, but overall it's still the same idea.

taglist: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz (as usual, ask to be added !!)

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Home alone, at long last. Helllllllz to the yeah. Down in the heart of his (mom’s) basement, Peter lies lazily on his back in bed. Today, it's one of those slow, hot afternoons midway through summer. Sunny, with a slight overcast. Peter hasn’t been outside to see it for himself. But he heard some guy on the radio call it “totally tubular” weather for a day at the beach.

He almost wishes he’d take a two second run to the Bahamas, or somewhere else. Peter could kick it back on a towel and watch babes in bikinis walk by. Maybe he could even stir up some trouble in the sand. Like he used to do, way back in his childhood. Just for some extra mayhem.

Alas. Today, Peter feels lazier than lazy. He’s found a new name for himself in Lazyville. As the leading candidate in the office of laziness. Speeding all around the globe for the umpteenth time this week sounds like too much work. Even a super powered mutant, living life in the fast lane, has his off days sometimes. What’s one break, eh? Breathing a sigh, he stares up at the ceiling. Earphones rest over his ears. Peter listens to a melodious tune by Jefferson Starship. Over his belly, he twirls his thumbs, bobbing his head along with his jams. Chillaxin’ and relaxin’ as one should on his day off. Hm.

Except, Peter’s kind of antsy. No one’s home at the moment. He has all this free time to do whatever he wants, in the privacy of said home. With not a soul around to judge him, or even bug him. And listen. It’s been centuries since he got off. Which may or may not be a slight exaggeration.

But wouldn’t you believe it? Despite his uniquely handsome features and outrageously fit bod; Peter has absolutely no game whatsoever. Crazy, right? Who woulda thought it? The dude who locked himself away in his (mom’s) basement for a good ten years. He’s awkward as hell? Say it ain’t so! Whoa!! Insane in the membrane!!!

Not to mention, it might as well have been a geological age since he got laid. Whatever. Who needs the companionship of someone else to have a totally righteous time, huh? Haha…

Ahem.

Today, Peter dubs himself the crowned king of slacking off and jacking off.

Pulling his earphones down to rest around his neck, his fingers move to find his jeans. He teases himself for a beat or two, his palm rubbing over the denim. Another beat, and his cock is freed from the tight, restrictive material. Peter makes a mental note: He might need to invest in looser pants. This pair is rough and uncomfortable around his legs, so he shoves them all the way down to his ankles with virtually no shame.

What does it matter anyway? For the time being, he’s free. At least until his mom gets back, that is. He should really stop thinkin’ about that. Every time Peter remembers - oh, yeah - he’s a grown ass man still living at his mom’s place; it kinda wrecks the vibe. Makes the mood crash and burn. Total boner killer. And he’s not even hard yet.

His half-hard cock rests limply over a curly patch of silver hairs. Peter would never admit it to anyone, but he’s always been self conscious of his hair situation. Some chick back in high school - he can’t even remember her name - said his silvery bush “looked really weird.” Like the pubes of some geriatric. 

Peter can barely picture her face at this point. But the sound of her giggling at his expense is, unfortunately, locked away in his brain forever. Another embarrassing memory to withstand the test of time. Probably until he dies, or becomes a geriatric himself.

What was he doing again? Oh. Right.

Peter gives his dick a firm squeeze, like he’s checking to make sure it’s still there. Before taking the semi-hard length into his hand. Slowly, he strokes himself to hardness. Breathing a relieved sigh, Peter settles into the groovy-patterned sheets of his bed. The smooth tip of his cock inches through his closed fist with every stroke. As his frustration blossoms, his length throbs with an intense longing for something more.

Thick veins pulsate under his hand. Sparkling beads of precum leak from his tip. He coats the head in a generous glaze of slickness, eliciting a hushed noise from the depths of his throat. Keeping himself as quiet as humanly possible is basically a instinctive response. But he doesn’t have to hold himself back right now, does he?

Sweet. Peter’s gonna be as loud and obnoxious as he wants.

Pumping his cock a bit faster, he momentarily stops to fondle his balls. They rest heavy in his palm, smooth to the touch and loose between his fingers. After teasing himself impatiently, Peter redirects his attention to his twitching length. Aching for more stimulation. He jerks off with a pleasurable rhythm. Subconsciously following the beat that resonates from his earphones, his strokes fall into a more consistent pace. He leans further back in bed, letting his lips part. His nerves tingle. And as he revels in the sensation, he loudly moans. Letting the noise rip through the silence of his ( mom’s ) basement.

Said basement has now become more stifling. Kudos to the summertime heat for that one. Peter’s Conan the Barbarian T-Shirt - now damp with his sweat - feels like too much of a hindrance. He pulls the fabric up, letting his upper half breath. With his shirt clamped between his teeth, Peter leaves his body exposed. A sheen of sweat coats his abs, and his pecs raise with each labored breath he takes.

He takes a half second to admire his own physique. Honestly? No bullshit? His body looks pretty damn amazing. If only there were someone around to appreciate how naturally jacked he is. It’s a hell of a tragedy, really. All this smokin’ hot, speedster bod goin’ to waste. Tsk tsk tsk.

Who was he even kidding? Why would anyone wanna waste their time messin’ around with a total shut-in like him?

Dammit. Now's not the time for some hateful, self-ribbing. He should distract himself with something. Something like-

Using the gift of his mutation, Peter increases his speed by a few notches. His fist squeezes tightly around his length, stroking his cock even faster. He groans into his shirt, knitting his brows as arousal washes through his groin in waves. It feels good. Really fucking good.

But it’s not enough. He wants to utilize this free time as much as he can. It’s the perfect opportunity to get even more frisky than he usually would. Peter bolts around the basement, searching for a few hidden…uh…treasures, we’ll call them. In a blink, he reappears on his bed, leaving his overly tight jeans and boxers discarded on the floor.

Lying next to Peter over the wrinkled blankets, rest a bottle of lube - the tingly kind, a stroker toy - clear, with literal, silver lining, and a polaroid photo. The toy hasn’t been used in eons, but its quality is still up to par. Peter made sure to clean it the instant he found it again. And the photo, well…

It’s his own, filthy secret.

A low-res, high flash picture taken of you at last year’s, X-mansion, Halloween party. Whoa, mama. You were scantily clad in the most outrageously suggestive Indiana Jones costume Peter ever saw. Back at the party, you even tipped your hat and cracked the whip a couple of times. Which may or may not have awakened something in him. But that’s beside the point.

You were so tipsy that night. Way more flirtatious than you naturally would be any other day. Peter remembers you pressing your body against his, hanging over him all night like a sexy sack of potatoes. He sat next to you on the couch. With a cheesy grin on his face, he watched your every move. The tiny shorts you were wearing kept riding up your thighs. It was obvious you were braless under a tight, cropped, button-up shirt. Leaving so little to the imagination.

Point blank, it was fucking awesome.

You crossed your smooth legs. One over the other. And you leaned in to whisper something hot in Peter’s ear.

“Take a picture with meeeee, Quickie, I wanna remember this moment forrrever and everrrr.” You pleaded, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. 

What followed, he hadn’t seen coming. As someone - it’s all a blur, Peter can’t remember who - snapped the photo, you pressed your glossy lips to his cheek. Your giggles were so coquettish and teasing, he felt shivers race through his body at mach speed.

“I’m, like, sooooooooo scared of snakes. Geddit? ‘Cuz I’m Indiana? But your snake doesn’t scare me. Can I pet it, pllllleeeassse?” You giggled again with a little whine.

Making an abrupt move, you reached for Peter’s crotch in front of everybody. After zipping away to grab you a solo cup full of water and some bread, Peter snatched the photo from whoever. And he bolted home in a fit of shameful embarrassment.

In retrospect, you weren’t just tipsy. You were majorly smashed. You didn’t remember a single minute of it. Figures. He’s not too surprised you wouldn’t remember flirting with him.

Peter sighs, blinking himself out of the memory. Eager to continue his once-in-a-silver-moon, jerkin’ session. He squeezes a fair amount of lube into his palm, wrapping his large hand tightly around his cock. Over every inch of his aching length, he spreads the slick substance. Tingles sparkle like stars across the hot, velvet skin of his cock. Wet noises echo lewdly through the basement, as Peter pumps his leaking dick fast and hard.

Clenching his shirt between his teeth, Peter tilts his head back. A loud, seething moan slips from his lips, slightly muffled. He pauses again, grabbing the stroker and guiding its smooth slit over the swollen head of his cock.

“MMmmmnnn~!” Peter hums a steady moan, exhaling through his nose.

The inside of the toy feels nothing even remotely close to the real thing. Kind of a bummer. But the tunnel’s soft, bumpy ridges are still a double A plus. A little too good sometimes, actually. The toy slides down Peter’s cock as he pushes his entire length through. It’s a tight fit around him. Tighter than it should be. Which is doing wonders for his confidence. Maybe he should be more proud of his size.

He’s above average enough, the small toy can’t contain the length of him entirely. His weeping tip peeks out the other side of the stroker, prodding through with every pump. Peter breathes another, shuddering moan. His brows crease in pleasure. Pumping his cock with the squishy toy, he whines in desperation. Forcing his thick length through the toy’s tight grip, slick with lube and smooth as silk. The ridges inside tickle and massage his cock, stimulating his buzzing nerves. 

The muscles in his groin tighten, stiffening his legs. Shoving his cock rapidly through the ribbed tunnel of the toy, he groans louder. Letting his needy noises slip as they please. Fuck it. No restraint. Indulging himself further in his degeneracies, Peter keeps your photo close by. He shoots a glance at it, admiring your soft thighs and amazing cleavage.

He daydreams about you. Imagining the way you’d feel around him, squeezing him so much tighter than any toy. You’d be needy and wet for him too, making it so easy for Peter to bury himself balls deep inside you. 

Peter thinks about the way your titties would look, bouncing with each thrust of his hips against you. Would your nipples peak, stiffening under his fingers? How would you react if he had a little fun, and teased you with a superspeed buzz? Would you even like that? Would you think that kinda thing was weird?

He really does want you sooooo bad. But you have absolutely zero idea. Peter knows he’d treat you right if you let him. If you ever gave him the time of day outside of missions, he’d take you on the wildest ride you ever strapped yourself into.

Clenching his teeth hard into his shirt, he wraps both hands tightly around the stroker. Peter leans as far back as he can, bracing his feet flat on the bed. The blankets curl under his toes, as he lifts his hips. Driving his cock through the slick, textured toy and fucking it hard.

“Nnghh…fuuuuck. Fuck.” He groans, voice catching under fabric.

His breaths quicken, and his moans morph into desperate whimpers. Peter aches for your heat, and the closeness of your body. Your gentle touch. Your sweet voice and little whines. He knows, without a doubt, you’d feel beyond amazing. And you’d probably taste so sublime.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Peter whimpers into his shirt. Saliva seeps through the fabric, melting off his tongue and dribbling down his chin. His cheeks burn hotter, turning a brighter shade of crimson.

“Mmmmmfuckyeah-” Peter moans, followed by a muffled mumble of your name.

He fucks his cock through the toy at rapid, superspeed. Lifting his hips off the bed as if roughly drilling into your tight heat. Peter’s cock throbs as powerful surges of electricity erupt in the pit of his belly. Glossy, white streaks of cum spill from his tip, flooding over the toy. Dripping down the squishy sides of it. His cum stuffs the inside full, coating his dick in its stickiness. Peter thrusts his cock fast enough to appear a blur, until he’s completely spent.

Lying in a sweaty heap over his blankets, Peter pants easy breaths. Tousled, silver hair rests messily over his head. He pulls the stroker from his cock, and slick cum trails after it. Wet and thick against his softening dick. He throws his head back into the bed, taking a moment to compose himself.

It’s really crazy that he’s thinkin’ about you like this, isn’t it? He’s honestly really embarrassed by it. Peter grabs the polaroid and stares at it longingly, unable to suppress the grin pressing into his dimple. Damn. He just can’t help himself. No matter what, he’s kinda ride or die for you.

If only he had the balls to tell you up front.

Peter gazes at the photo for a few seconds too long. Lost in the sight of your sexy body again. You’re such a goddamn knockout. He guides his attention to his dick to find…he’s rock hard again? Seriously? Dropping his head onto the bed, Peter groans with agonizing frustration. He just can’t catch a break, can he? Why’s he always gotta be so antsy, so on edge, or so horny all the time??

A faint sound, like creaking wood, graces his ears. Peter tilts his head up instantly.

Only to be greeted by none other than the unexpected sight of you.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck-

You’re standing in his ( mom’s ) basement with your mouth agape. A faint indication of blush paints your cheeks, though he can barely see it. Peter should be moving. He should do what a speedster naturally would do in this kinda situation: Clean up and dress himself in less than a blink’s time. Just to play innocent afterwards. Maybe he could gaslight you into thinking you didn’t watch him get his rocks off.

But he’s stunned to the point of being frozen. Neither of you make a single move. Except for Peter’s dick. It twitches subconsciously in his lap, catching your attention. And your eyes widen further.

He really should’ve gone to the Bahamas. Peter’s betting those beaches are seriously bangin’ at this time of year.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to make my own decisions concerning my siblings future life?

I'll start by apologizing for my broken English, I'm not native to this language. I (26f) have 3 older siblings (30f, 32m and 34m), we all lived with my parents until this year. I've recently decided to move so that I can start to live with my boyfriend, this decision caused a huge fight which ended up in my mother making an impulse buy and deciding on a life for my siblings and me that I don't agree with.

I'll try to be succint here but I do think some background is necessary: all my siblings were born with severe mental disabilities and muscular dystrophy. While my country has public healthcare, their accomodations and appointments can very easily become a financial issue. For example, my parents house has been completely remodeled to fit their wheelchairs, they have had to partially pay for stairlifts and their cars are adapted to fit them and their wheelchairs too. They also require constant monitoring since they act and behave in the way of 5-8 year old kids.

My parents know (and knew back then too) that my siblings' conditions was hereditary and that trying for more children could lead to them being born this way. I've always had the feeling that they continued for more children solely because they wanted to have a 'healthy child' that took care of my oldest siblings and them when they were older. Even though I'm the youngest sibling I've always been treated like a third parent, I've always been expected to care for them like my parents do. Due to this, I've never gotten to enjoy my childhood, I never had time for friends, relationships or hobbies. Growing up like this also made me think about how I wanted my own life to be and I've thought about the future in a way that my parents will never approve of.

Last week I finally decided that I wanted to start living with my bf whom I've been dating for 2 years. When I told my parents they became very happy and congratulated me which made me very happy.

three days ago they offhandedly told me that my bf's garage door was too small to fit my siblings car and that we should start saving to fix his house's stairs so that my siblings' stairlift could be built. I was very confused and told them that my siblings would not be coming with me, their house can accomodate them just fine and my bf's house is way too small. They got very mad and told me that they had been caring for my siblings for a long time and now it was my turn to do it while they rested (they want to retire). I told them I deserved to have some intimacy and that I wanted to enjoy having a childless life for once. They told me that was very selfish of me since they have never been able of enjoying a no-children marriage (they had their first child very early on their marriage and have continued to have children until they had me). I told them that was their own decision, now it's only fair I get to make that kind of decision and it's not like I'm abandoning them, I will continue to help and visit constantly. They told me I was lazy and a terrible sister and daughter.

I cannot begin to explain how much of my siblings' raising was coparented by me, I've spent my entire life caring for them. I've missed up on friends, relationships, jod opportunities, etc. solely to continue to be their caretaker. As you can expect I was very mad but I still kept calm some more, I told them I love my sibligs a lot and would do anything for them but that I deserve to have my own life too. They continued to get even more mad and eventually told me they would disown me if I didn't allow for them to have a good retirement. I left before I could say something I would later regret.

Yesterday my parents apologized and told me I was right. Apparently they've been saving money for some time to help me take care of my siblings once they're gone. They want me to spend this money on a somewhat small one-floor house they have their eyes on, so that we can all live together at some point. I was very happy, I've always been under the impression that my parents expected me to 'deal' with my siblings (forgive my wording, I'm not sure what verb to use) on my own, so them having future plans involving me made me very pleased. However, today my mother called me and told me that she made an impulse buy and bought this house, here's the catch: she somehow looked at the numbers wrong and can only pay for a third of the house's actual price (this is a normal thing for her, she's not the cleverest person). She wants me to pay the rest (by taking out a mortage).

I have some money saved up, its not much since I can't work many hours due to spending most of my time helping my siblings. This money was always going to be used to care for my siblings. However, my plans have always been much different. In a nearby town there is a place that cares for people with disabilities. This place is expensive but it is very nice and it would cover all my siblings' needs. I want to register my siblings there. I love them, I really do, but I'm so tired. I want to have a life and make decisions for myself for once. I know my parents would hate this decision but they are not going to be around forever and then it'll only be me and my bf caring for them on a (actually very small) house having to deal with a mortage my parents can't help pay off. My siblings would probably be sad too but they will get used to this new place and its not like I'm going to leave them forever, I would visit them constantly. This place would probably genuinely take better care of them than me and would allow me to work more hours and earn more (which I desperatly need if I want to continue caring for them). While my siblings' government aid would help it is definetly not enough if I consider how many renovations the house will need and my sibligs' constant medical expenses. When I talked about my concerns with my parents they simply told me that all will be fine and didn't give me any substancial advice on how to deal with anything. I'm also simply not strong enough. They require constant monitoring, showering, dressing and moving them requires so much strength it often makes my body hurt and emotionally it takes a huge toll on me to come back from work to spend the rest of my time solely caring for them. We have nurses hired but it is expensive and mostly not enough.

I know my parents will forever hate me for this and I will make my siblings very stressed for some time, but they depend on me. They don't have much of a choice here which is why I think I am the asshole, Would I be the asshole if I cancelled the house purchase and left my siblings in my parents house for the foreseeable future? I want intimacy with my bf and to have my own life for some time, I would also continue to save to ensure my siblings receive the best treatment possible. I'm also not abandoning my parents nor my siblings, I will continue to visit, help financially, spent time with them and carry them to their appointments, just from a distance. Basically it would all be the same except, at the end of the day, I get to go home to my bf and spend some time for myself. At the same time, would I be the asshole if I decided to cancel the house purchase and instead opted to enter my siblings in a medical institution that can better suit their needs? my parents will never agree with my decision but they are getting older and weaker, soon they won't be able to help and then it will only be me. I know my siblings would prefer to be with me, I'm being selfish but, at the same, I think my plan may be the best one for everyone involved.

What are these acronyms?

[jjameslily]

FALLING (FOR FOOLS) | Read All Chapters on A03

Written for @jilychallenge's September Prompt: James takes Muggle classes and they go on a class outing and he asks Lily for help to blend in.

Partner: @fullb1n-blog

This was my first challenge and I'm late, but I accidentally hammered two of my fingers so editing was tricky for a few days... don't ask. Enjoy and Happy Jilytober, friends!

“You can’t be serious,” she muttered under her breath.

Lily stared at the pile of clothes and magazines that had begun to overtake the desk in the small section of the library they’d taken over for the last two hours. With her brow furrowed in disbelief, all Lily could think was one thing. 

She cannot believe she agreed to this. 

She watched as he began to transfigure more clothes, copied from the images he’d torn out of the magazines Lily’s mother had sent. 

James, who was now holding up two shirts for her to inspect—one tie-dye tee with garish hues that hurt Lily's eyes to look at and the other a classic white oxford shirt that was somehow more baffling for its simplicity. He stood there looking impressed with himself, his eyes darting between the two options with an almost comical amount of concentration. 

She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to fend off her growing sense of exasperation.

His head snapped up, eyebrows raised. “What? What’s wrong with this one?” He pointed to the crisp collared shirt.

With a deep sigh, she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “You do realize this is all for one day, right? You’re not infiltrating the Muggle world permanently?”

“Well, I don’t want to look like an idiot.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking at him. “You say that as if it’s not your usual state of being.”

James gasped, feigning mock offense at her words. “I resent that.” He dropped the shirts in his hands onto the pile. “You just have a talent for making me look worse than I am.” 

“Or maybe you just have a talent for making it too easy.”

He shrugged, a lopsided grin appearing. “Maybe I’m just trying to impress you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, is that what you’re meant to be doing? I thought being an arrogant toad was just who you are.”

James leaned in, closing the space between them as he braced his hands against the desk. His face now mere inches from hers, eyes glinting with mischief. “Guess that’s why I need your help, isn’t it?”

Lily’s heart gave a traitorous skip, the air between them suddenly charged with something unspoken. 

Lately being around him had felt like this—a pull she couldn’t quite fight. She tried to ignore the heat spreading up her neck, threatening to give her away, and instead fixed him with a sharp look. 

“Could you at least behave if you’re going to hold me hostage, Potter?” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her.

James chuckled, the sound deep and lazy, sending an involuntary shiver through her. He leaned back just enough to still linger in her space. “Only if you do, Evans.” 

His words were met with silence as her gaze dropped to the table, where her fingertips had unknowingly drifted close to his, brushing lightly against his hand. The moment she realized, she snatched her hand back, clearing her throat in a flustered attempt to recover.

She caught the glint of amusement in James’ eyes, the corner of his lips twitching as he tried to suppress a laugh. He was always like this—flirting just to get a rise out of her like it was some kind of game. And annoyingly enough, he was good at it. 

It was infuriating.

It had been infuriating for the last two weeks. 

———

Lily knew should have walked out the moment James Potter strolled into her Muggle Studies class. She should have known that it would only end with her getting tricked into some kind of ridiculous scheme in his relentless need to drive her mad.

Her quill practically froze midair when she caught sight of him sauntering in from the corridor, his usual self-confident smirk plastered across his face. He should have been on the Quidditch pitch. She knew—and she definitely wasn’t keeping tabs on him—that he was supposed to have a free period. He was supposed to be forcing all the other sixth-year players to follow the ludicrously meticulous— albeit a little bit impressive—training schedule he had planned out for the entire year. So, why was he here and not there? Not that she cared all that much. 

But what had really thrown her off was the absence of his usual entourage. No Sirius Black causing a commotion at the door, no Peter Pettigrew ready to jump in with some prank of his own, and no Remus Lupin quietly chuckling in the background, pretending he didn’t egg them on.

It was just James.

Alone.

Sliding into the only empty seat in the room just across from her. 

Of course.

He smiled at her, his usual nod and “ Evans” in greeting. She looked away, returning her attention back to her desk, scribbling absolutely nothing onto her parchment in an attempt to remain focused on anything else. 

He was glancing down at his textbook, his brow slightly furrowed as he flipped through the pages, clearly lost. 

A small, traitorous smile crept up before she could catch herself. Focus.

But her gaze had refused to cooperate. It kept drifting back to him, eyes trailing over the odd mix of precision and disorder before her, as if he’d carefully crafted his appearance to look effortlessly unkempt. His tie was just a bit askew beneath his vest, and though his robe was neatly tied, one side was beginning to slip off his right shoulder. His black curls, always a little wild, tumbled over his forehead, brushing against the glasses that perched precariously on the bridge of his nose.

On anyone else, it might have looked sloppy, a sign of carelessness, but on James Potter, it seemed intentional, almost... charming. A charm she would deny ever noticing, yet here she was, unable to look away.

She tapped her fingers against the edge of her desk, silently scolding herself. 

She hated him. 

Hated his confidence, his messy charm, the way he managed to take up space even when he wasn’t saying a word. 

Absolutely. Totally. Without question.  

But, as much as she tried to focus, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought. 

She’d never noticed just how distracting James Potter could be.

Lily watched as he pushed his glasses up his nose with a quick and careless movement, his fingers brushing against the curls that fell into his eyes… Merlin’s sake.  

“Ms. Evans?”

Professor Harwicke’s voice sliced sharply through her thoughts, jolting her in her seat and mercifully derailing the path her thoughts had been heading.

It wasn’t until then that she realized James had his head tilted in her direction.

Lily quickly snapped her attention to the front of the class, cheeks burning as her professor’s gaze lingered between the two of them. 

“I will take your silence as acknowledgement,” he said, not giving her a chance to respond.

“Now that you have all been partnered up,” the professor called out, “Please remember this outing is meant to be educational. You will be expected to submit a joint field report and analysis comparing the atmosphere, social interactions and cultural significance to a related Wizarding event of your choice. Please include your observations on the similarities and differences in audience behavior or even music appreciation as one of the main events will be the band.”

Lily, now completely tuned in—her somewhat unjustified irritation with James (only somewhat) still lingering—caught just enough of the professor’s words to understand what the hell just happened. 

A festival. In a Muggle town. Paired up. Safety precautions. 

Her eyes widened as the realization sank in.

As soon the lecture ended, Lily hurriedly gathered her things and turned on her heel towards where Professor Harwicke was climbing the steps into his office. 

“Professor?” she called out, her voice barely audible over the noise of the students packing up and chattering amongst themselves. 

The professor glanced over his shoulder at her, stopping just outside his office. “Yes, Ms. Evans?”

“Is there any chance I could switch partners?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she climbed the steps up to him. “I think there may have been a mis—”

The professor didn't let her finish. He folded his arms and gave her a pointed look. “You were paired for a reason, Ms. Evans. I expect you to take the assignment seriously.”

Lily opened her mouth to argue, but Harwicke cut her off again. “My decisions are final,” he said, “I suggest you make the best of it.” 

“But professor—”

“No buts,” he said, his gaze softening just a fraction. “Consider it a learning opportunity, Ms. Evans. Both of you may benefit from it more than you realize.” And with that, he entered his office and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

The most devastating closing of a door she'd ever heard. 

When she turned around she found James leaning casually against the wall at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her.

“Trying to trade me in, Evans?” he asked, clearly taking pleasure in her failure to do so. 

She huffed. “Unfortunately, Harwicke’s return policy had a tight window.”

James pushed himself off the wall as she brushed past him, a grin spreading across his face as he followed her across the room towards the door. “You know, I’m hurt. I think we’ll make great partners.” His voice had that familiar teasing lilt, the one that made her want to both roll her eyes and— well, never mind.

“And what makes you think that, Potter?” 

“Well, for one, you’re smart enough to keep us out of trouble, and I’m charming enough to get us into it.”

“Oh, so I’m the brains, and you’re… what? The bad idea?”

James chuckled. “Maybe, but you’re stuck with me now.”

She spun around, catching him off guard for a moment as he halted to stop much closer than she’d thought he was. “Did you need something, Potter? Or should I expect you to follow me to my dorm?”

“Is that an invitation?” James said, still smiling as if her obvious annoyance went right over his head. 

“You’re delusional,” she said stiffly. Though his closeness had a confusing effect on her—it was infuriatingly impossible to ignore despite her best efforts. 

“Just thought I’d check-in. I figured you’d want to talk about the assignment.”

“As long as you don’t draw too much attention to yourself, Potter—which I’m sure is a monumental task for you—we’ll be perfectly fine,” Lily replied, her voice laced with dry amusement. She tried to step past him, but he sidestepped smoothly, blocking her path.

James tilted his head, pretending to consider her words. “You’re right.”

She blinked. “What?”

“It is very hard not to attract attention,” he said, flashing her a wide smile. “I assume you were referring to my extraordinarily handsome face?”

“Actually, Potter, I was referring to that loud mouth of yours and your insatiable need to cause trouble.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, “Alright, Evans. You win,” he paused, eyes lighting and Lily could practically see the ideas forming behind his eyes. “You should help me.”

“Help you?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward with a sly smirk. “Help me.”

“What are you on about?” she asked, folding her arms, entirely unamused.

“If I’m so hopeless,” he said, “help me blend in.”

Lily shook her head in disbelief at him. The idea was laughable. Her, of all people, helping James Potter blend into Muggle society? Not a chance. 

“And I would waste my time doing this, why exactly?”

“Because how else am I to turn into someone who can walk through a Muggle festival without causing chaos? Think of it as your civic duty.”

“You overestimate how much I care about your ability to blend in, Potter.”

“Come on, Evans. Here’s your chance to mold me into something halfway decent.” His smile widening. “You know, for the sake of education. I’d be a shame to get my partner in trouble because I didn’t know any better.”

She gave him a long, measured look, lips pressed into a thin line as though weighing her options. “You’re impossible,” she finally said.

“And yet,” James said, leaning just a little closer, “here I am. Your partner for the week,” he responded, seemingly taking the mild insult as her reluctant agreement. 

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh, come on,” he nudged her gently with his elbow. “We’ll make a great team. You’ll see.”

Lily finally met his eyes, and though he was being his usual insufferable self, his eyes looked at her warmly, a sincere gleam in his eyes. Whatever it was made her feel unsteady, so she masked it with exasperation—a much more familiar feeling she could handle. “I highly doubt that, Potter.”

“We’ll see,” he said, his voice softer now, but still teasing. “Who knows? By the end of this, you might even like me.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said and turned, leaving him standing there. 

As she stepped into the corridor, she found herself acutely aware of the lingering warmth from his closeness, and the faint scent of something sweet like cinnamon that somehow refused to leave her thoughts—just like that idiotically annoying smile he wore on his face when she’d turned to leave.

[fishnapple]

Hello love 💕

Your blog literally introduced me to lithomancy and I've been interested in trying since. I practice divination myself and I really resonated with the type of reading you do,

I was wondering how you learned/practiced it and what resources you used to study

Thank you in advance and have a blessed day 💕 💕

Hi, I'm so happy that you're interested in this art, it's not very well-known like the other types of divination. I will highlight some of the essential points of Lithomancy here, hope that it can help you in some way 🌼

HOW DID I START?

Thanks to the power of friendships and dreams lol.

I've had an on and off relationship with Lithomancy for the past 10 years. I was first introduced to this art by a friend. I would read Tarot for her and she would read crystal for me. At that time, I tried to dabble in it a little but didn't connect well with it. Likely due to my lack of knowledge and the right timing.

Then, last year, the year of my Saturn return, I had a dream about going to a shop selling handmade crafts and crystals with my nephew (you could say that he was the embodiment of my inner child in the dream). Not long after that, another friend of mine brought me to an actual crystal shop where I bought my first set of crystals and began to seriously study and practice Lithomancy.

The content is rather long so I put in a "keep reading" to shorten to post. Please click "keep reading" to continue below.

TOOL & MATERIALS:

1. The book:

The only learning resource I had was from the book Lithomancy: the psychic art of reading stones by Gary L. Wimmer and from watching my friend do the readings. The book was a good starter, the author explains several key concepts that are essential for reading stones.

2. The stones:

In the past, I used sea shells, pebbles and even clay to substitute for the crystals. The things I used were beautiful, but it didn't feel right, some were too heavy while others too light. Seeing them together raised no emotion or insight in me.

Only until last year, when I went into a crystal shop for the first time and bought a set of crystals, did I feel a connection to the stones. I chose the crystals purely by hunches with near zero knowledge about the meaning of each crystal. It was like a blind casting, you only saw the candidates but you didn't know anything about them and you didn't see their performance beforehand. You just picked based on their looks lol.

Not to say that you have to use crystals to read, it might depend on each person's aesthetic, way of pattern recognising and interpreting. For me, colourful crystals help me see the connection, the interaction better, you just need to find whatever work for you. Heck, I even made a random chart generator on Excel to read at some point.

There's no fixed number for the stones nor rules for choosing which stone for what. But in general, you would want to choose something with the size that can fit a dozen nicely in one palm of your hand, and with distinct shapes. Avoid rough crystal because they can fragmented easily after numerous tossing.

3. The surface:

Any surface smooth and even enough to allow the stones to fall on without excessive tumbling, the background colour should allow you to see the stones clearly and doesn't give your eyes fatigue after staring at for too long.

In the book, the circle was form by a strip of leather, lace or some similar material with a knot tying the two ends together. I was lazy so I just drew the circle on the fabric lol.

THE READING:

Unlike some other divination methods, which have certain rules of interpretation and meaning that you should follow. Lithomancy is quite free-form. There's lots of rooms for improvisation and creativity.

The method I use for reading is based loosely on the guide in the book with lots of personal modifications. I read the stones like how I read an astrological chart with each stone represents a planet plus other meanings (10 stones for Sun ~ Pluto, 2 for South and North node, 1 for Inner child, 1 for Fear, 1 for Life). The circle is divided into 12 sections, representing 12 houses.

Another time, I use a different set and assign a completely different set of meanings to read for specific topics. You can tailor the stones, the layout to your need freely, as long as you can connect with them on an intuitive level.

In short, it's all about how you assign the meaning to each stone and read the interaction, the relationship between them. Very much like watching a play, a movie where characters interact with each other in different scenes and you get the messages through them.

Well, that's the general idea of crystal reading, if you have more questions or any other insights, feel free to share, I'd love to chat. 💓🐋

[carcarcraziiv2]

The Woman with the Pink Hair (P. 4, 5, 6)

Here is a continuation of the Woman with the Pink Hair!

This is a Vi x Fem! Reader fanfiction.

I will post this gradually, maybe once or twice a week until it is fully out! (If you are impatient, you can view it on my Wattpad-> @DatBishCar)

Please note that this is the first piece I wrote after a HEFTY (I mean years long) hiatus from writing.

P.S. Lowkey I KNOW there's a bunch of shit I could fix in here to make it better due to my practice over the past year or so, but I just... I'm so lazy rn LOL. Anyhoooooo....

ALSO- here are the TW for you lovelies! (This is for the WHOLE SERIES)-

Violence, mental illness, oral sex, dominant tendencies, torture, kidnapping, plotting?... lowkey there's probably more but you should get the gist here, AS ALWAYS ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK ILY<3

READ PART ONE, TWO, AND THREE HERE-> https://www.tumblr.com/carcarcraziiv2/737189248110821376/the-woman-with-the-pink-hair-p-1-2-3?source=share

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART FOUR: An Artist's Eye

The next day has arrived. You shoot up from bed in the morning, as you hadn't set an alarm and you were worried you may have missed Vi coming over. You looked at your clock and it read 10:30. The streetlight was shining through the window of your room, as there was no sunlight down in the under city, and you could see the dust floating about from you jerking out of bed. You rubbed your head slightly, feeling a little hungover from the previous night's expenditures, but not too bad. 

    Letting your hand caress from your hair down to your lips, you brushed over them. Remember the sweet kisses that lingered there. TWICE. Two times Vi had kissed you. You swooned and fell backward into your previous position, moving your hand from your lips, down your chest and stomach. You reached your waistline, feeling heat in your cheeks as you thought about Vi, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. 

    You jerked out of your moment, flustered. "One second!" You called out, hopping off the bed and stumbling as you grabbed your pants off of the floor and threw them on. You ran to the door, peaking out of the peephole to see dark pink hair and those blue eyes looking right back at you. Unlocking the door and opening it quickly, the girl stepped back for a moment before smiling. 

    "Well, good morning sweet stuff." Vi giggled. "Did I wake you?"

    "Good morning! No actually I just woke up before you knocked... why?" You smiled back, moving out of the way and motioning for her to come in. As she walked in, she looked over at you and made a signal about her hair. It took you a moment, and you realized what she meant. You probably had a rat's nest on top of your head. Blushing, you rushed over to the mirror by your vanity and grabbed your hair tools. "Well, I mean I really just woke up before you knocked" you laughed shyly. You tossed your hair into your signature style, an easy go to do that you rocked nearly every day. Turning back around, you find the woman sitting on a chair that sat next to your art easel. You snagged a small stool you had under your vanity and pulled it over near her and sat as well.

    "So," you started "Do you want to see my stuff?" pointing at your boxes near the easel. 

    Vi smirked. "Do I want to see your stuff? I guess you could say that." Her eyes drifted from your toes up to your eyes, caressing your body with their movement. "You could say that." 

    You rolled your eyes, understanding her innuendo and shook your head slightly.  "Idiot, you know what I meant." You slapped her shoulder. Getting up, you waltzed over to where the box sat on the floor beside it. Opening the box, you pulled out a large black sketchbook, as well as some canvases. You had just placed the black sketchbook in the box after finishing the last piece a few days prior. 

     You turned the canvases over and showed her them one by one. She oo'd and ahh'd at them as you went through. You painted many different things, such as landscapes, mystical creatures, and people. A lot of times, your art revolved around the places that you had been to in the past. About finished showing the canvases, Vi pointed down to the black sketchbook on the floor beside you.

    "What's in there?" She questioned, leaning over and grabbing it for herself. You almost instinctively snagged it out of her hands but decided that you didn't mind if she looked. To your horror, she turned to the back page almost immediately, rather than starting from the front.

    "Whoa..." Vi stated, tilting her head slightly as if to get a better look. You knew exactly the page she had turned to. It was a scene you did the day after the first time you "met" her, A.K.A the time you saw her beat up 3 grown men.

    You had used pastels and recreated the scene as you remembered it, from your perspective. You made the men look weak and made Vi look strong. Light shown down directly onto her from a streetlamp above and made her look like an angel, almost. Vi looked from the paper, and up at you. Your eyes were wide.

    "Uhh," You muttered, "I drew that before we met properly..."

    "This is...." She paused, and your heart stopped. "Amazing!" You instantly sighed with relief, letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 

     "I'm glad you like it," You smiled victoriously, placing your fists at your waist.

     You got up and walked over to the small shelf near your bed. Living in a studio apartment, all of your things were kind of everywhere, but you did not mind. "This," you said picking up a clean looking book, "Is my new sketchbook. would you like to see what I drew last night?" 

    Vi looked shocked, admittedly probably due to the fact that you were quite inebriated last night, and she didn't think you would have drawn anything other than a bath after getting home. Regardless, she nodded. You walked over to her and opened the very first page of the sketchbook. 

    "It's not quite done, but here it is," handing the book over to here, you smiled slightly while blushing. The picture below was of Vi, from your point of view sitting at the bar you had gone to the night prior. You had paid close attention to all of the details of her appearance, already planning on drawing her while you were there. It was mainly her side profile but caught certain parts that you found wonderful and interesting like her VI tattoo and the gear on the side of her neck. You even remembered the hoop earrings that sat on her ears.

    "You drew this last night?" she said, her mouth agape. "That is amazing!". Without warning, she set the book down and quickly leapt off the chair, engulfing you in a quick hug where you stood. You staggered back a step before steadying yourself and returning the embrace. Vi broke away and you replied.

    "Thank you." 

    The rest of the afternoon, the two of you discussed different things such as your hobbies and passing time. You and Vi decided that you would meet again the next week when you had a day off and parted ways.

    This time, she didn't kiss you. You were disappointed, but none the less felt wonderful about the day you had had. 

PART FIVE: Passing Time

Over the next week, you spent a lot of time doing the things you normally do. Drawing, going on walks, but one thing on your mind was a new addition to the constants- Vi. She was so wonderful, you didn't understand it, but you felt like you had a connection with her that you had never had with anyone else. You weren't obsessed or anything like that, but you were definitely struck with what felt like a heart wrenching teenage crush. 

    You had been stewing in your thoughts the last few days. Although it wasn't your intention and you were sure you were still going to see her later that week, you were worried that perhaps she didn't actually like you like that. You were concerned because each time you spent time together, she appeared to be thinking of something, or someone, else. It's not like you own her, though, so you didn't think much of it as it was happening. Now however, you can't help your thoughts straying to those scenarios. 

    What if she has a girlfriend?

    What if she doesn't even want to be like that with anyone?

    You shrugged off those thoughts for the time being. It was Monday and you had already gone to work, drudging through old boxes that had new loot in them for the shelves of the shop. Your boss, Eddie, always got his stuff in mysterious ways but you were not too clueless as to how he may obtain them. Simple, he hired people to steal from topsiders and bring their little trinkets and nick-knacks down here. Something that normally people wouldn't find down here. One may be surprised how well simple things like gadgets and figurines sell in a place like this. Likely, people are just looking for a lick of simplicity in such a seemingly sour place. 

    Nothing out of the ordinary or exciting happened at work that day, so the day dredged on and on until finally you were able to go home. You waved goodbye to Eddie and his stubbly face gave a grunt and a little nod in response.

    "See you tomorrow," you muttered. You weren't really in the mood to sound happy and nice today. Different than your usual, you just wanted to go home and take a bath in the old grungy bathtub in your studio. You grabbed your brown saggy backpack from behind the front counter and threw it over your shoulder leaving one strap hanging behind your back. Your hand pushed open the front door and you let it close naturally behind you as you walked through. Turning to your right, you started your journey under the small bridge that went over head a few feet forward. Reaching the other side of the underside of the bridge, you suddenly felt a presence beside you. 

    You turned your head quickly to your left and see a young woman. She had blue hair that was very very long and braided into two braids that nearly reached her knees. She was a pretty girl, but she looked very tired, and you couldn't help but feel the strange aura wafting off of her.

   "Hey there, toots," she smiled over to you, tilting her head ever so slightly to the right. Her smile didn't reach her eyes and you felt a ping of panic in your chest, although you couldn't pinpoint why. 

    "Uh, hi?" You responded cautiously. She looked familiar, but you weren't exactly sure why. "Do you need something?" The words came out of your mouth a little more harshly than you intended, and the girl next to you shot her hands up in defense.

    "Whoa, I'm just looking to make a new friend. Something wrong with that?" Her hands lowered and crossed over her chest. All the while, the two of you were still walking. You stopped abruptly, and she stopped a few steps ahead and looked back at you.

    "Oh, I- I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling a bit ashamed that you had reacted so harshly. You felt a blush creep up into your cheeks and you continued. "Um, I'm (Y/N), what's your name?". Slowly, your feet started to continue their trek but silently you decided that you weren't going to go home with this girl on your heels. You didn't know why, but that didn't feel like a very smart idea.

    Unbeknownst to you, she already knew where you lived, where you worked, and who your recent company was. In fact, she knew very well.

     "Y/N... I like that name!" She smiled and clapped her hands together quickly. "My names Jinx. I'm usually a loner, but I saw you walking by and thought 'gee, she looks like she needs a friend!'" You grimaced at her words; did you really look that lonely?

    You nod solemnly, and then sigh. Deciding to ignore the internal battle of instinct within you, you turned your lips into a grin and reached a hand over to her. You both stopped and she grabbed it in hers and shook it vigorously for a few seconds.

    "Good to meet you, Jinx. Do you want to grab something to eat?"

-- VI's POV --

    Vi had been working on some things throughout the day, mainly mending relationships she had had down here before everything happened. She wanted to try and produce a sense of normalcy for herself, even though it didn't seem like that was possible. Today she had been gathering the gumption to return to the places her, Jinx, Ekko, Claggor and Mylo used to play and hangout as children. She missed the ways things were but understood even if the events that pursued hadn't happened, things would still have been different than they were when they were children. That's what happens, people grow up. 

    Vi roughly passed her hand through her greasy hair. She hadn't showered in a few days. Hell, she didn't really even have a home down here anymore. Mostly she spent her time awake and about, finding "safe" places to sleep when she felt she needed rest. Vi was on the way to a small tavern style restaurant that had recently opened near where she met y/n. She wasn't trying to be creepy but couldn't help but feel a ping of excitement in her stomach when she thought of the possibility of seeing her before their next planned date.

     Was it a date, though? Vi thought. Maybe she isn't even interested in me like that. She thought back on the few experiences she had with y/n. Ha, ya right. I saw the way she squirmed when I kissed her. The way her eyes became hooded when we were close. Her little breaths were so fucking cute when she was flustered. 

    Vi giggled to herself, reaching the front of the new restaurant. She opened the glass door, a little bell ringing to signify a new customer entering the establishment. A little woman rushed over to her, grabbing a menu from a makeshift host table near the door.

    "How many?" the woman says breathily. She was very short, her red curly hair caressing her face. The hair failed to hide the slight fear that appeared on her face. Vi did that to people, made them scared. Must be her aura, or the fact that she just looks like a certified badass one hundred percent of the time. 

    "Just me," Vi shrugged slightly, her hands were in her pockets which caused them to raise slightly. The hostess turned around and signaled with her hand at Vi to follow. She led her to the bar and sat the menu on the counter. Smart girl, Vi thought. She can tell I need a drink. 

The server left, and Vi took the opportunity to check out the menu and order a drink. After ordering from the bartender, she looked around the establishment. She took in the decor trying to figure out what kind of place this will be. It felt very... safe somehow. She liked it. As she scanned the area, she stopped dead in her tracks about three quarters of the way to a full three sixty. 

    At a table on the other side of the room y/n was smiling at a server who was presumably asking her how things were and all that classic server shit. Vi got excited, about to get up and walk right over there. Just as she was begging to stand, the server walked away and Vi's eyes rounded into discs.

  She was sitting at the table with someone who made Vi's heart shoot into her throat. It was Jinx. They were laughing together over some bowls of what Vi assumed to be soup. Giggling at things here and there and looked like they were having a genuinely good time. Vi quickly turned back to the counter and put her hood on. Luckily today she was wearing a new jacket she had gotten, a nice black pleather item. 

     "What the fuck?" was all she could say as her thoughts raced at a thousand miles per minute. 

PART SIX: Confrontation

 "Wow, this is so cool!", you say in awe. The small grenade shaped item in your hand clacked around slightly as you rolled in from side to side.

    "I KNOW, right?", Jinx snickered. She and you had been hanging out a lot the last few days, and although it felt strange at first you were starting to really enjoy her company. It felt good to have a friend. "It's just a lil' thing I do". The blue haired girl giggled slightly, shrugging while taking the item from your hands. 

    You are sitting on a stool and take a moment to look around you, taking in the grungy surroundings. Jinx had drawn little faces and words all over the walls in vibrant spray paints, most glowing in the dimmer parts of the room. You didn't find it weird, however. You thought it was awesome and a killer way to express oneself. Hell, you paint and draw and obsess over things. What's the difference?

    Jinx had turned around, rummaging through some drawers beneath the desk she had. She was haphazardly slinging tools here and there as she rummaged through the drawer, some of which you had to dodge to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face. You hear her make a 'aha!' type sound and turn back to face you. In her hands was a small tan notebook. The binding was barely holding together, and a leather cord wrapped around the item to hold it shut. She walked over beside you and leaned against the wall facing you. You noticed her eyes glass over slightly as her scrawny fingers grazed the top of the book. Just as quickly as you noticed, she snapped out of it and yanked the cord off of the book.

     "This," she started, pausing momentarily, "is my sister's diary. From way back in the day. I found it in her prison belongings after she was released." Her head tilted slightly, and a grin started forming at the corner of her lips. "And you... get to read it!" 

    You raised a brow, intrigued but confused. "I don't even know your sister, Jinx. Although I'm flattered, I guess, wouldn't that be an invasion of privacy?" Your heart started beating a little faster as the look on her face contorted slightly. She seemed like she was becoming upset but again, her attitude quickly snapped back.

    "Toots... Oh Toots... So naive", she smiled. She grabbed your hand and turned it so your palm was facing up. Her hands were cold against your own, and you shuttered slightly. She looked at you dead in the eyes as yours widened, and you felt her place the book into your palm. She gave a little nod, and you tore your eyes from her big blue ones and gazed down. On the front of the brown leather, a small engraving enchanted the lower right corner. 

Vi 

 You took a moment, a little bit confused. Then in shock, you looked up at her with your mouth agape. She was sitting there nodding and wiggling her eyebrows, a faint smile on her face. You looked back down at the book, then back up at her. Does she know that you and Vi had been hanging out, too? That you felt some sort of way about her? Of course she does, dumby, why else would she look so excited about you finding who this diary belongs to.

"I can't read this..." you started. "It is not rig-", Jinx cut you off, her foot slamming into the ground causing you to flinch back slightly.

    "You WILL read this diary, (y/n). No questions asked. I didn't mean to, but my stupid heart has decided it likes you and you have actually become a friend of mine. That means that now I have to protect you as well as Vi." She shook her heads slightly towards you. "Why do you think a random girl ran into you wanting to be your friend? Is that like, a common thing for you?" She laughs like a spazz, and you see a little craziness flash behind her eyes. You suddenly feel really small.

    "Uh... okay I guess... but how did you know that I knew Vi?" You started reluctantly, staring at her as you questioned. 

    Jinx threw her head back and laughed. "(y/n), I always know where my sister is. After our last," she paused contemplating what to say, "falling out... I have kept close tabs on her because, well, she is my sister. I love her and even if she hates me I don't want to lose her again. Make sense?"

    You nodded slightly. You scanned your memory, trying to remember seeing Jinx around before you met her formally. Always keeping a keen eye on your surroundings, it was rare for you to miss new faces. Then, it hit you. That first night you went out for drinks with Vi, there had been a girl lingering in the corner of the old bar. She was wearing a hood which engulfed her face in shadow. She flicked a straw around in her drink with her head resting in her hand. You remembered her solely because of the long blue braids you saw hanging down through the hood and touching the floor.

    "Oh my God! You have been stalking us!" you barked at her, quickly covering your mouth and then repeating yourself a little quieter. "Stalking us? Jinx, what the hell man? You know you could just like, apologize or whatever and make up. I don't know what you guys went through but..." You stopped, noticing Jinx's pale blue eyes lower, tears pooling at the brims of her eyelids and slowly dripping down her cheeks.

    "No, Toots, unfortunately I can't just apologize," Jinx sneered. She reached her hands up and brushed the tears off her face, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for what you had said. "And you are not going to get away from reading this. Open it up, little lady. Read it! Don't worry, the only important parts are the very last few pages." She reached over and yanked the book open, turning it to the third to last page and jamming her finger into the smudgy ink on the paper.

    You sighed. Knowing Jinx pretty well at this point, or at least thinking you did, you knew it wouldn't be a great idea to tell her no again. You turned your attention to the paper in your hand and began reading.

-- VI'S POV --

    Pacing outside of the dingy apartment, Vi ran her hand through her hair and lit another cigarette. She stopped, staring at the door. She knew (y/n) and Jinx were in there, doing God knows what, and she wanted to barge in there so bad and confront the both of them. Jesus, what am I, the fun police? She thought. No, Jinx is dangerous and (y/n) deserves to know. Even if she decides to keep... hanging out with her, it's none of my business. I'll give it one hour. One damn hour, and then I'm busting down that damn door.

-- YOUR POV --

    Dear stupid diary,

    After Caitlyn had me released, I had fully intended on leaving her goody two shoes ass and finding my sister. But the woman has me enthralled. She is so beautiful, and even though she is a snooty brat I can't help but start feeling things for her. What the fuck is that? The very breed of people killed my parents and threw me into the hell hole prison. Now I am falling for one of them? Fuck that. 

    Love, Vi

    You shook your head, and asked Jinx, "How long ago was this written?" You nervously fidgeted with the corner of the pages.

    "About a year ago, I guess." She answered. You did not reply, instead your turned to the next entry.

    Dear diary, or whatever,

    The only reason I got you is so that I can put my thoughts in here and god damn it, have the last few days given me a lot to write about. First of all, we found Powder. In fact, Silco and his damn goons have her as their pet. Everyone who hears her name shakes their head like they have heard the name of someone who died or something. 

    I met Caitlyn's parents today. She brought me into her room through her window and her mom nearly shot both of us with a rifle. She looked like an old version of Caitlyn, but she was very harsh and did not like me at all. Makes sense, I am just a gross bottom sider. Caitlyn and I, we got cleaned up and sat in her room. It felt so good to be alone with her. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

    Anyway, Caitlyn and I finally found Powder and she kind of like... freaked on us. I am not sure what that was all about but all I know is she seems so broken. I want to help her. I want to fix whatever pain she has gone through, even if it seems impossible right now. Well, it's only impossible because Ekko (can you believe it, Diary? Ekko!) freaking KIDNAPPED me and Caitlyn! He took us to this awesome sanctuary he built. It's actually really really cool... I can't tell him that though, or else it will get to his head and I can't have that. 

   So today we are going to do some more searching, again. 

   Until next time,

   Vi

"So, are you Powder?" You asked innocently. Jinx, or Powder? lifted her hand and shook it slightly giving a 'kind of' type of signal. You eyed her, and nodded slightly, returning to the next and final installment of the diary.

    Oh my fucking god. I don't even know what to write, or how to write it right now. But long story short, Powder kidnapped me and Cait. 

Cait? She gave her a nickname. You rolled your eyes slightly but kept reading. 

   She killed Silco. She lost her shit and killed Silco. I really thought she was going to end us too... She made it very clear that "Powder's dead," and "I'm Jinx now" but it's such bullshit. She will always be Powder... She will always be my sister. Needless to say, she actually let us go.

   Unfortunately, I can't help what it going to be coming for her now, though. She built a rocket. A Huge missile launcher with one of the crystals she had stolen... She shot it right into the counselor building... she... she really did it. 

Your jaw dropped, and you looked up at Jinx. She was still standing there, looking at her nails and you could tell she was feeling proud of herself. Closing the diary, you grabbed Jinx's write and slammed it back into her hands.

    "That was YOU?", you yelled. You couldn't help but feel fear and also an odd sense of excitement brimming your very being. Jinx had been the one to blow up the councilor building, but the Undercity wasn't given much else besides that as Topside closed all communication with us.

    "The one and only!", she started circling you, and you just followed her movements as she stopped in front of you, and put her hands on the arms of the stool in which you sat.

    "That," you started, pausing for dramatic effect, "is awesome! Jinx, you single handedly got those cunts off of our backs! Even if it is only for a little while..." unable to contain your excitement, you jumped which caused Jinx to bounce back slightly, and you wrapped your arms around her. "You are now the coolest person I have ever met!"

   Jinx looks taken aback, and she looks around as if someone is pranking her. Right before you release her, you both jump and turn towards the door. A loud bang reverberated around the room. 

   Jinx pushes you hard, and you land on the stool which in turn falls and you both tumble backwards. She pulls a pistol out of a drawer quicker than you can even see, and points it towards the woman in the doorway. 

    "Vi?" You say in shock.

    "Get off the floor, sweet stuff. We've got some talking to do." She waltzes in and slams the door shut behind her as best as she can with it now being broken. Jinx keeps her gun trained on her the entire time, but Vi simply walks by and plops down on the couch that populates the area against one of the particularly graffiti filled walls. She takes a moment, running her hand through her hair.

    "So," Vi starts, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees. She raises her hands while her elbows still rest. "What the fuck, guys?"

    You look over at Jinx, who drops her arm holding the weapon, and rolls her eyes.

    This is going to be a long night.

[jhynka]

- failures

genre: angst. hurt/no comfort

pairing: ryohei arisu x reader

synopsis: arisu comes to you to vent on how tired he is, you react in a way he could never imagine

cw: verbal abuse, mentions of death

an: writer's block, writer's block, writer's block!!!!!!!! i tried to post this last night but tumblr crashed on me like 10 times already. anyway sorry if this isn't as good as my other fics the writers block is just so bad. this was originally a request from @a-simp-20 but the of post crashed and it also deleted the req from my inbox (its prolly the new aesthetic I'm trying out). anyway happy reading!

“You know, if you just listened to me, you wouldn't have become so useless.”

He looked at you, fighting back tears. Out of all the people, you were supposed to be the one he felt the safest with. Not even Karube and Chota should’ve compared to you. He should have felt at ease with you as if he escaped every trouble he had in the world. He had just received his report card from school earlier this afternoon and wanted to vent out how tired and unmotivated he was for school. Expecting comfort, he received confrontation.

“I told you a billion times, it’s not that you're tired, it's because you're lazy. Arisu, look at me seriously. Do you really think you're ready to even be in a relationship if you can't even get your shit together?” You scolded him angrily, annoyed by his complaining. If he just even got off his stupid games for even an hour, the outcome would've been better than this you thought.

“Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't listen to you and now I'm complaining about it, can you please just calm down? You’re scaring me.” Ryohei pleaded, with the tears that finally ran down his cheeks. Hearing you call him by his last name broke you. He had told you how much he hated his last name, he hated it so much because it reminded him too much of his teachers talking about how great his brother was compared to him. Two different Arisu’s, one great and one left purposeless.

You looked down at him, sitting on his room floor looking straight back at you with tears. Even though you felt pity and guilt at the back of your mind, you knew that if he learned his lesson well enough, maybe his future would have some meaning for him. Ryohei wasted his life enough.

“You're such a waste! You have so much potential and you just go waste it all! Do you know how hard the people around you work while you're just sitting there with your stupid games?” You said to him, even more disappointed.

His tears fell harder, he shut his eyes and curled up. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry…” He repeated shakily, not knowing what else to say.

“No matter how many more apologies you say Arisu, it will never fix the fact that you've wasted your life.” You said solemnly. “We're done, I can't stay with someone who doesn't know what to do with themselves.” You followed firmly, trying to walk out and leave his empty house.

“Wait!” He shouted, getting up and pulling your wrist to make you look back at him. “Please, Y/N, don't leave me, you promised you wouldn't. I’ll fix myself, I promise. Please don't leave me alone. Please I'm begging you, I’ll do it, ill fix everything, just please stay.” He begged, crying and sniffling in between sentences.

Flashbacks of the happy memories he had during your relationship spun across his head. He didn't want this to be the end, he didn't want to be blaming himself for another failure. You pulled away your wrist as he walked behind you, and chased you down the stairs begging, pleading for another chance. No matter how much he begged, however, that didn't stop you from slamming the front door on him, as you went back into your car and drove off.

Watching you drive away in the pouring rain, with his tears pouring harder made his world go silent. It was his mother's death all over again. He was the one to blame for you leaving and knew that he would never deserve you or another chance again.

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

one shocking thing that people with ADHD do that makes us the most annoying bitches in disability awareness and acceptance circles

I encourage both ADHD and non-ADHD people to read this, I'm hoping awareness on both sides can lead to reducing some of the hostility I've seen towards people with ADHD in disability circles. And yes, my fellow ADHDers, part of fixing this problem is us doing the work to avoid using communication techniques that can be triggering to people who have experienced ableism.

I want to talk about something I call reciprocal storytelling. Basically, telling a story that is in some way connected to a story someone else just told. Non-ADHD people do it too, but I've noticed people with ADHD do it a lot more than other people. If you ever listen to two people with ADHD have a conversation, it's pretty much a nonstop string of loosely related stories.

So why is this problematic when communicating with other disabled people? Unfortunately, ableist people often weaponize reciprocal storytelling to belittle the experiences of disabled people. I think the easiest way to have people understand this is with an example.

We're going to create a character called Laurie. Laurie has chronic, debilitating knee pain. Laurie just met a woman, Sandra, who injured her knee while running a few years ago. Sandra's injury was painful and interfered with her life quite a bit, but it's healed now. Their conversation goes something like this. Laurie: I can't walk with you up those stairs. Do you want to take the elevator with me so we can keep talking? Sandra: Sure. You know, I had my knee injured once while running. Took me a few months to get back into the swing of things. Something that really helped me was exercising it. Laurie: I'm sorry that happened, knee injuries are the worst, especially if you enjoy being active. Unfortunately working out hasn't helped. The thing that's worked the best has been not pushing myself too hard. Sandra: I thought that too, but I worked through the pain and it eventually went away. You just have to not give up. Laurie: haha, yeah I guess. Well, this is my floor, got to go.

Sandra was ableist in this conversation. She asserted that she could treat Laurie's pain despite knowing nothing about it and having no medical experience. When Laurie said that she had either already tried Sandra's method or thought it would be dangerous, Sandra less-than-subtly hinted that Laurie wasn't trying hard enough to get better. In this conversation, reciprocal storytelling became a tool to make Laurie feel guilty for being disabled. Now, let's look at a scenario of a person with ADHD talking to another disabled person:

Paul has ADHD. He's in a meeting for the disability club at his college. Right now, Ron, a manual wheelchair user, is talking about an experience he had on campus. Ron: I went to Professor Smith's class today and when I got there, there was a chair halfway blocking the door. I asked him to move it so I could get into the classroom and he told me to move it myself. Obviously, that's going to be really difficult for me to do since I have to use my hands to propel. I asked again for it to be moved and he called me lazy. Paul: Oh, Professor Smith was ableist to me last semester! I have an accommodation to sit in the front of the class. When I got there one day there were no front-row seats available. When I went to him he told me seats were first come first serve and that I should have the self control to pay attention to him and not the people in front of me.

To a person with ADHD, this conversation may seem harmless and non-ableist. It's just one person sharing a story related to another person's story. In fact, Paul might have even been trying to add credibility to Ron's story and encourage him to report it. However, this is not how Ron, a person who has likely experienced ableism, would probably interpret this conversation. To him, this might come across as Paul trying to make this experience about him and take attention away from what he had experienced. Or, it might come across as saying that having trouble paying attention in class because of a professor's actions is the same as being physically barred from entering a class because of a professor's actions. Either way, Ron is likely to leave the conversation feeling that Paul values talking about his own disability over listening to the experiences of others. Eventually, if this happens too often, Ron and other members of the group may begin to resent Paul for his perceived self-centeredness.

So how do we fix this? One, on the part of people with ADHD, practice active listening, try to make sure others are done speaking before you begin, and avoid jumping into talking about yourself without giving any feedback to what you just heard. For people without ADHD, communicating how you feel and why is key. The ADHD people in your life might not know they're hurting you if you don't tell them. Even if the ADHD person initially responds with hurt or offense, this doesn't mean the conversation failed. A lot of people with ADHD also have rejection-sensitive dysphoria and may need time to calm down and think about what you said before they can apply it.

[bunnyseahorse-blog]

I don’t feel like my therapist is listening, so I fired him, and I don't even feel bad.

I have half a dozen serious mental illness diagnosis and medical issues. When I applied for disability I was approved in three months (usually takes longer from what I'm told) and almost immediately moved from their metaphorical “she might get better” to “she’s going to be receiving benefits for life” pile.

The doctor I saw from age 7 to 30 advised me not to drive because of my condition that causes me frequent fainting.

She suggested I not live alone because I have delusions, mood swings and sometimes need to be hospitalized. I saw this doctor for 23 years, and also went to other specialists that agreed with her. I saw her until she was retired.

My general doctor says that even though I am overweight she is pleased with my glucose and cholesterol levels. My old, and also my new psychiatrists agreed with her.

My parents say I can live with them and have support. They are actually creating an expansion on the house so I can live on my own sort of and still have them nearby. My eldest sibling is inheriting the house when my parents die and they will rent to me until I die. We don't always get along, but I am trying, and we are navigating our unique dynamic so we can make it work.

This new therapist I’ve been seeing keeps insisting I go off disability, get a job, move out of my family’s house, live alone, and lose weight. Because I’m too old to “mooch off my parents.” He made comments from the get go about my weight. I am overweight yes, but he's not a doctor or nurtritionist. I am not experiencing any health issues because of my weight, which is partly due to my medical conditions and my meds. He made a comment once that i should show some pride in myself and not wear a beanie to sessions "do something nice with my hair." He told me once my shoulders looked smaller and I must be doing better. I was thinking.... do I have fat shoulders too??

I am going to a session today to explain to him nicely that he needs to let me set my own goals, and also educate him on how my life really is. I don’t think therapists should require educating. If he doesn’t get it, I’m leaving the session but I’m giving it a shot anyways.

I’m scared and I’m angry. Wish me luck? I don't want to be a project for him. I want to talk about things in sessions that i need to, not what he considers on his own agenda.

EDIT: I went to the session and voiced my concerns about he got a little defensive, but eventually seemed to see what i was saying and switched his focus to what I told him my goals were. However... I wanted a therapist to help me work through my abandonment issues and trauma, not a life coach to push me. I think i might find someone with a different focus is good. (plus him getting defensive isn't a great sign to me) he also insinuated that my little sister, who he has heard off, never met and never examined, is mentally handicapped because of one of her birth parents. We've had her tested, and everyone seems to be saying she's very sharp and doesn't have what her birth mom has. He also asked what my doctor of 23 years even did for me. I was like... diagnosed me with everything I have? Oh but according to him, diagnoses aren't relevant. I have a condition similar to schizophrenia, and yes you should know if you have that....

Also... I signed something saying he could have access to the last notes of my previous therapist, since I have extensive history but he apparently never got it, never told me he didn't get it, and wants me to go through the process again. I feel like the office dropped the ball, because I signed it already.

I think it might be time to move on... I canceled my next appointment. I feel like I should be able to find someone who listens better, and is there to help me, not fix me into things I am not capable of. Having him insist I am wrong and lazy for excepting my limitations, after the long grieving process that came with becoming permanently disabled at 26, has been upsetting, because I keep doubting myself, even though I know I have done the right things.

[theladyragnell]

Thoughts on Rebel Moon: A Child of Fire

Sometimes I watch a movie and just have to say some words about it while I try to sort it out in my head, and I watched this yesterday and now am thinking through it!

I will get to a some bullet points in a moment, but from the tenor of conversations when I went into the tag looking for gifsets, I am going to be very clear and say that I do not have a horse in the Zack Snyder race. I am not a Film Person, I know who is directing maybe 5% of the movies that I watch, I'm not going to get involved in any Snyder Discourse, thank you.

CW for this post and also the film for attempted rape.

By far the best thing for me in this movie is that there were multiple times when I thought to myself, "I know exactly what quip this movie is about to make to ruin the sincerity of this moment," and then, consistently, it didn't. I love quips and banter, but the trend for having those without sincerity behind them has really been wearing on me these past few years. Rebel Moon went a little too far in the other direction of taking itself Very Seriously for me, but it was a bit of a breath of fresh air that it MEANT what it was saying.

By far the worst thing for me in this movie was the two scenes of threatened rape. The first was brutal and so obvious as to be unnecessary, with the soldiers and Sam, there are a thousand things they could have done to get Kora motivated that weren't that and still they chose it. At least, though, they took that one seriously. It's just that then they followed that up with "it's at least slightly humorous when the threat comes from an alien who is sexually harassing a man instead of a woman, right?" and the answer is nope! It isn't! The fact that every attempted rapist in this movie dies violently within five minutes of threatening it, including the "humorous" one, doesn't change that it's lazy, shitty storytelling. Do better.

This would have been better as a limited series. Maybe I'll change my mind when the next part(s?) airs, but nothing had the space to breathe, and the fact that it's just part one of one movie makes it feel unfinished and weird. I think it would have felt more like the first in a duology/trilogy, weirdly, if they'd finished the flashback backstory infodumps here? It's pretty obvious where the rest of Kora's backstory is going to go, the point that it almost doesn't need saying, but it should have gone here for precisely that reason. Closing that loop would have fixed a lot of things. And it would have been easy to make time for it by removing EITHER OR BOTH OF THE THREATENED SEXUAL ASSAULTS.

There are a lot of elements here that I really like. Lots of interesting bits of worldbuilding and fun visuals and worldbuliding THROUGH visuals, which always brings me joy. The warriors we pick up throughout the movie are interesting (the moment of pure joy that is that griffin ride! (I know it's not a griffin. I simply do not care)), and the moment with Sam and the robot and the flower crown was a highlight of the film for me. It's just that none of them really had the space to flourish! They were introduced with the feeling that we were already supposed to recognize them, which can be pulled off but wasn't here. Even one or two bits more establishing them as characters would have helped, and particularly I'm going to say that if you're going to sell me on General Titus as a brilliant strategic mind, he should have ordered someone into a better strategic position in that last battle. Even once would have helped.

Costumes overall were very fun, except for on Veldt and specifically with our main characters! Everybody else is dressed for a Space Adventure but Kora and Gunnar are just wearing, like. A tank top and pants. A henley and pants. Kora has her cloak, at least, but we can do better, I feel. I also take some issue with Spaceship Design, a combination of Too Dark and Meh Design means that I was often confused about what ship we were seeing until we saw who was on it.

Overall I kept comparing this to Jupiter Ascending and finding it wanting? Both are sincere, but Jupiter Ascending is joyfully so. They're both tropey space fantasy that throw you into a new world without much orientation to it and expect you to care about a lot of new people and factions, but Jupiter Ascending lets its heroine be an audience surrogate who is also being introduced to all of these things. Obviously they are trying to do very different things, but they use similar trappings to do them, and Jupiter Ascending does a more effective job, at least for me, of making me care about this new world I'm dropped into.

(Sigh. Look. I did not want this to turn into "soooo, he sure did file the numbers off his Star Wars pitch, huh." I'm not going to make larger commentary on that, BUT I will say that a lot of my problems with this movie are problems that I have with some (SOME) books that are by fannish authors who filed off serial numbers instead of starting from scratch. And that is the big difference that for fanfic, or a new entry in a well-known franchise, the audience comes in already caring about your world and characters. Even if they're new characters, or a new setting in the world, there's a level of pre-investment. And this movie has the problem of having made a new world and characters that COULD be compelling on their own, that AREN'T actually just remade characters and worlds ... but by assuming that we're coming to them pre-invested, it makes itself feel more like fanfic with the serial numbers filed off.)

In conclusion, if I had a nickel for every time one of Les Amis from the 2012 Les Mis movie played an evil lavishly dressed space emperor with a weird relationship to the movie's heroine, I would have two nickels, which isn't many, but it's weird that it happened twice.

[genericpuff]

Hiii, I read your post about the stiff dialogue in LO, and I wanted to add my own two cents!

I myself am a person with a nice case of dyslexia (it will most likely show in this message). While I can’t speak for everyone with dyslexia, I pesonally cannot and will not publish anything ”official”, without spell checking it to hell and back. This is mostly because I’m hyper aware of this being one of my ”shortcomings”.

I also wanted to say, that most of, if not all, people with dyslexia that I know are rather self-consious about it. I just find it a bit unbeliavable that all the misspellings/awkward text in LO are there simply because Rachel has dyslexia. To me personally, it seems to be more a product of laziness and/or indifference.

Of course there is the fact that I’m not working on a long project, and I can usually take my time with my work, so maybe I just have more recourses to be careful. I also want to make clear that I don’t mean to say that Rachel’s dyslexia doesn’t affect her workload at all, but I do think she should have the means to check these things, especially since she is quite successful in the field.

Thanks for pitching in on this! I myself do not have dyslexia, but I do understand the struggle of missing words or misspelling them as my brain tends to move too quick at times for my writing speed to keep up LMAO It happens a lot when I'm writing by hand as I can't handwrite as fast as I can type so words sometimes go missing while my brain speeds ahead 😂

I can get why someone might be a little more self-conscious about typos being pointed out if they're making their comic entirely on their own and for free, or if they're just self-conscious about making mistakes in general (it can be scary to put a piece of work out into the world!) but Rachel is literally the top creator on the platform so there's zero excuse for it to have gone this long without at least a copy editor. And frankly it's still weird that they hire a copy editor at all just for checking typos because that's something that can be done so easily (again, Rachel has 4-5 other assistants per episode, you're telling me NONE of them could do it for her? Oh that's right, because she has them all draw their panels in isolation of one another and then she slaps the dialogue in at the last minute -.- the copy editor she has right now seems like the 'last step' before she submits the comic).

That said, if you go back far enough, you can actually find Rachel's take on correcting her misspellings and it's... frankly way saltier than it ought to be? Like I get it, it might feel like an attack for someone to say "hey, I spotted this mistake!" especially if you're self-conscious about it or are living with a learning disorder that affects your every day life, but when you get over that self-consciousness of making mistakes, it's really not that big of a deal? Like, yeah, it can be really frustrating when people point those mistakes out because it makes you feel bad or reminds you that you're struggling with something like spelling that seems so natural and 'easy' to everyone else, but I find true genuine fans of your work don't point these things out to be mean, just to be helpful. Yes, some people are mean about it, but you can usually tell which ones are the mean ones and which ones are the nice ones.

I've made spelling and grammatical errors in both Time Gate and Rekindled that have been kindly pointed out, and you know what I do when people find them? I thank them for spotting what I clearly didn't and I go and fix it. Because it makes my work better for my audience and my own peace of mind.

Rachel, meanwhile-

(tiny picture translation:

Question: Why do you have typos?

Rachel's answer: Yes, believe it or not I speak English. (English-New Zealand not English-American) Remember... not everyone cares about spelling. And frankly if go around pointing out spelling mistakes in peoples comics you have an issue. Plus I'm dyslexic you insensitive ass!)

Like... that whole thing is from her FAQ section that she made herself and she's still having a tone of voice that implies she's directing her answer at one specific person as if it was like an anon ask LMAO and really, I get the spirit of what she's saying, it can be pretentious/rude to point out people's spelling mistakes... in an informal or conversational setting. If you're making a comic or writing a book, though, it's basically a bare minimum expectation that you should be using spell check and making sure things are readable. You're making the work for other people to read after all. So her tone in this followed by the whole "I'm dyslexic you ass" bit just feels so unnecessarily hostile over something that was an innocent mistake and happens to literally everyone. Like, she really do be hurting her own feelings in her own FAQ that she made on her own time, this isn't the only question in there that reeks of 2000's edgy era "fuck you for asking" energy lmao

That said, to be fair, that is from her 2000's edgy era, so I'm hoping she's grown out of that at least slightly, but judging by how she's been managing her comic the past few years, it's clear she still isn't bothering to employ simple tactics to keep mistakes from slipping through the cracks and would rather lean on her dyslexia as an excuse rather than a reason. Dyslexia is a reason for typos, but where it becomes an excuse IMO is when she blames her dyslexia and then doesn't fix the mistakes that arise due to her dyslexia or do anything to make her life easier going forward.

Again, she's hired a copy editor, so if they're a permanent part of the team now, that will hopefully make things better. But why weren't they one of the first people hired when it's clear that Rachel could really use the help to ensure her comic comes out being the best version of itself it could be? It's like she's been literally shooting herself in the foot for the last 5 years.

It really feels lazy and, frankly, disrespectful. I know that might be a hot take or seem a little overblown to use that word here, but if you're going to be creating a comic for an audience - and expecting that audience to read your comic each week and in Rachel's case be expected to pay money for it - then you should be doing them the service of making it worth reading and sticking around for. If you can't even do so much as spell check your work - or go back and edit the errors when they arise - then that really goes to show how little you care about your own audience because you're not willing to put in the time and effort to even just fix a typo, let alone give them something worth coming back to and paying for each week. Sure, not everyone pays for the comics, but those viewership analytics are still valuable and it's very clear at this point that they're dropping rapidly week after week, and yet Rachel is doing barely anything to help turn things around.

Lore Olympus disrespects its audience in more ways beyond just the typos, of course, but the typos feel like the shopping cart litmus test - it costs next to nothing to resolve the issue, so if you still choose not to, it speaks to how little effort you're willing to put in to do something helpful for others that already only requires the bare minimum to do.

Of course, much of this is all speculative so take it with grains of salt, but judging by her responses to her own audience way back in the day, it really paints a picture of how Rachel views her audience. It makes it feel like she doesn't release her work into the world to genuinely entertain people or to find others who may connect and resonate with the work, she does it purely for herself and herself alone. That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing in and of itself, it's pretty difficult to keep up a project if you aren't doing it for yourself to some degree (and you shouldn't create a comic just to earn an audience because that's just setting up unfair expectations for yourself lol), but in Rachel's case, it feels more like she's emulating the same edgelord energy of her "boss babe" Persephone - if you don't love every part of her and her work regardless of its genuine flaws, no matter how easy said flaws would be to fix, then you should just shut up and read her work and/or pay for it anyways because she should be allowed to do whatever she wants and if you don't like it, then you're an insensitive ass.

[targwh0re]

Thoughts on Teen Wolf the Movie while watching it (SPOILERS) pt.1

Before I even start let me say that they should've just made it another 12 or 10 or hell even an 8 episode mini series

Should've opened with Isaac instead of Liam and Hikari in Japan smh. He was the last one to have the triskele box, how tf did Liam get it? (I do understand that Daniel Sharman couldn't be in the film but still...at least give me an explanation)

I don't care what they say, Hikari was supposed to be Kira and Hikari wasn't supposed to even exist. Liam and Hikari are clearly what Scott & Kira Should've been, minus the restaurant in Japan, if they'd done the right thing and brought Kira back in the last season. He said he'd wait for her😭. (Though I Stan the actress for not coming back when they were going to pay her white female castmates more than her. Honestly fuck them for that)

Why does Liam own a restaurant in Japan. How did we get here in our lives. Liam u supposed to be protecting Beacon Hills. Also idk what career I though Liam would get but it definitely wouldn't have been restaurant owner. I can see him as a coach maybe (at Devonford Prep in honor of Brett; huh maybe I did know what career I thought he'd have🤔)

Damn y'all really keeping Nogi with teas and spices. Ig hiding it in plain sight works idk 🤷‍♀️

Why Liam fall like that 😭

Damn Nogi really reminding me of the Witch from Narnia when she appeared in that ice wall thing in the second movie

also if Nogi can talk through that thing, why hasn't he manipulate someone into setting him free already

Though that Nogi was like a regular fly, not a firefly...

Scott being call "The Alpha" like they'll never know🤫 also like I thought Monroe went international w/ her hunting. Ain't no way Scott's just chillin all carefree enough to put his name on a business.

Yeah Scott save that doggie...oh and the little grl too. Also this would've been better plot wise if this was a flashback of Scott saving a little Hikari, it would explain how she's randomly apart of the pack now

Love how Scott's animal clinic looks like a mixture of Deaton's vet place and Derek's loft

Scott talking about having kids one day was how I knew they'd give him Eli at the end. Like wtf, he should be raised by his family, by other born wolves who know about the werewolf history that Derek did. Like hello we got great uncle Peter, auntie Cora, and hell even cousin Malia. Derek WOULD NOT want his SON raised by an ARGENT!

"I didn't see it. I took my eyes off the road for like two seconds to change the song on my ipod"

Wooo spooky 👻

I said ah oop jump scare Chris "I never use the front door" Argent

Poor Chris no parent ever deserves their child to die before them

Bardo! and who stayed up all night doing research about Bardo for you, huh, Mr. McTruealphaman. KIRA!

Yes papa Argent, say fuck

Well Jeff Davis said he wanted the timeline to work out so that Eli was born before Derek returned to Beacon Hills in an interview (idk where it is and I'm too lazy to find it) and after the series finale timeskip in the last season it was 2017, its now 2026 so technically it's been 11 years Scott my boy

Look at me out here fixing the timeline for everyone😁

"I got a feeling the real answers are in Beacon Hills" Yeah no shit Chris, everything's gotta do with Beacon Hills

Scott your the alpha. Be the alpha. Quit asking other people to to decisions for you, for the love of God

So Scott I understand why you left Beacon Hills but are we going to address what happend to Monroe and the internatipnal hunters Corp? No?...okay then

Chris why did you leave mama McCall. Jeff u really out here breaking everyone up. Should've got w/ Papa Stilinski so Scott and Stiles could be brothers fr "oh what could've been"

Why the pack break up? not gonna give me an explanation again...okay I'm sensing a pattern here

Yeassss!!! Business woman Lydia, we knew u could do it. And she looks very snazzy in that white outfit with her ponytail if I do say so myself. Funny how the banshee's business has to do with sound lmao it's perfect.

Lyd!😭 Thats Mrs. Martin-Stilinski to you! Shit at least call her Lyds so that you don't sound like your calling her a lid💀

Damn u think Lydia would've learned to look at stuff by now before handing it out. Nah but on a real note I feel like she should have a better understanding of her abilities by now, and have expanded on them, and had more control of them but that might be just me

I SAID ITS MRS. MARTIN-STILINSKI Ray or whatever ur name is!

Oooo the automatic writing again

Yayyy Eli Hale! In my head Eli is a nickname for Elijah, just like Derek is a nickname Frederick (if you known you know🤣)

Hale Auto?! Ain't no way. Derek ain't a mechanic. I refuse. Terrible career choice for the man. He's rich, he ain't even gotta work

Maybe Malia could be a mechanic but I doubt it, ooo a Park Ranger would be perfect.

Love how Eli just hotwired that jeep😂. Oh and just let me say this here and get it out of my system. Eli is similar to both Stiles and Scott when they were younger but he is NOT STILES. Yes he's sarcastic and a little delinquent but do you guys know how many teenagers are sarcastic little delinquents? Alot. It's a teen thing. I was the same way (minus the crimes😂) and still am sarcastic af. Love Eli as Eli, not a mini or replacement for Stiles. Love u guys to death but we went into this knowing there was no Stiles.

Jeff Davis: No Stiles.

Us: No Stiles?

Jeff Davis: No Stiles!

Boys gonna pop a damn wheelie in fucking Roscoe

Love how Parrish just calls Mason instead of tailing him

I'm fucking dead💀they was all too scared to tell Derek (me too thou bc sourwolf is scary😶)

Why is Mason a deputy? Feel like he should be working at Lydia's, like he's right under her is what I'd say he should be doing. I could see Corey, his husband, maybe being a deputy though. *gasp* or a cute little school teacher🥺

I stand by what I said earlier, Malia should be a park ranger and I add to that by saying that she should be the consultant and not Derek (though i understand they had to reintroduce his character) she spent a lot of time in those woods, and she's more intune with her animal side than anyone else

Derek still sexy af

serial arsonist...wolf pack also has a serial arsonist. I swear to God they should've just made it a spin off instead of its own thing

You definitely should call Stiles, he's head of his own supernatural devison in the FBI👍

Love how Derek was like a fugitive for most of the series and now he works w/ the police. Eli taking up that criminal mantel now😂

I mean...is it really grand theft auto if he took it from his own dads shop🤷‍♀️🤣

Derek's got ptsd from the jeep

Eli wanted to race that grl, I now headcanon that's how he flirts. Just like his daddy he's like haha look I'm better than you at something "you wanna see some real speed bitch" (flashbacks to when Derek flirted with Paige by being an ass with that basketball, like grl just wanted to play her cello in peace and quite)

Love how Derek just like slashed the tires. Really said "i don't think so. My names Derek hale. I go way back" (I'm so sorry to anyone reading this)

Part 1-5

[classydreamthing]

JUST SAY "YES"

ᰍ   ִ   ױ   ࣪   🪷⃝⃝     ݂    ๑   𝆬   𔒌   ⬞  

https://youtu.be/OHVIhbgU9p4

- Ray route Day 8

🌻- Sun Hee

🥀- Saeran

𓈃 ׂ (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) - Sᴜɴ ʜᴇᴇೃ/ੈː͡➘

[The blonde would find herself sitting on the bed with one hand resting on her stomach, she certainly didn't feel like eating after everything that was happening but she could feel from time to time how her stomach demanded something to eat. Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes for a moment while in her head she kept thinking about Ray, that he should still be there and that she was going to do everything in her power to help him.]

🌻-Ray...

[She couldn't say much more than the door opened, quickly standing up and raising her guard when she perceived that black suit on the young man that she had, just one day ago, kissed on the cheek.]

🌻-Saeran.

🥀-You're not going to stop looking for that fool because you haven't eaten anything for a day, are you?

🥀- If you change your mind too quickly, poor Ray...

🌻- I have faith that Ray will return, do not want to disturb my heart because you will not make it.

🥀- "My precious Sun Hee . . . I'll do everything you want, but please don't abandon me..."

🌻- !? Hey!

🥀- Hehe... he's really an idiot. If he acts like this there is really no reason to abandon him.

🌻- I didn't stay with Ray for that, I really care about him and he would know that. He doesn't have to do anything for me to love him.

🥀- I'm sure Ray also wanted to lock you up like this. But.. he didn't do it because he is a coward .

🌻- ... He didn't do it because he respects me in the same way I respect him.

🥀- Huh..anyways. I feel in a bad mood because the RFA attacks are very boring.

🥀- My savior has told me that it's not time yet, and that's why I'm holding on, because otherwise I could launch a great attack that would end everything...

[At that moment the blonde girl only took her cell phone and she hid it, she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing but she was terrified of the idea that he was telling her the truth.]

🥀-Why are they so lazy on the other side? They don't even want to fight. I am in a very bad mood.

Are they thinking that I am nothing? How dare they?

🌻- I think you're going too far... they don't even know you-

🥀-Who told you to say that? I have not authorized you.

🌻- Do you have to authorize me?

🥀- Hah? Is your mouth the problem? .... Or is it your head..?

Don't think for yourself, I never told you to!

[The young girl did not have time to react as she was forcefully taken by her wrist and thrown to the ground, falling on her back and groaning at the pain of the blow that had taken her breath away for a second.]

🥀-Do you regret it now? You alone have come to this strange place. Your curiosity has brought you here.

🌻- !

[Her blue eyes fixed on other mint eyes, a haughty and creepy look is what she had on her, the boy's body cornering her on the ground and preventing her from any kind of mobility in her hands to get out of that situation.

Again that feeling of panic took over her, breathing somewhat agitated but keeping her body still from her, she could not allow herself to cry or panic, she would not tolerate it and she did not know what reaction he could have. She still remembered the words from last night.]

🥀-You are a prey that I have caught. I have caught you because you are very dumb and slow.

🌻- I'm not going to let you disrespect me-

🥀- The world has given you a chance but you have made a foolish choice! You're not thinking you've lived a good life so far, are you?

[The words of her father returned to the blonde's girl mind, feeling a lump in her throat as her fists clenched tightly due to impotence. A hot person would send him to hell but she had already heard insults like that from a former college classmate who she thought was her friend. She knew that people made comments like that to bring you down and the smart thing to do was to take it with a grain of salt even if her chest burned with anger.

She, Unfortunately, was inferior in that place but there were many ways to defend her honor and her pride, at least with less cruel ways.]

🌻- A good life doesn't exist, it will always have its flaws and difficulties... my life was neutral and you will not be able to disturb me by saying that, Saeran.

🥀-Haha! How arrogant. In your situation, you don't deserve to believe that.

🌻- Do you think I haven't reconsidered what you say? I have, many times. But I learned that in life you have to move on, I shouldn't stagnate.

🥀- Please... I can see many things that have been ruined because of you. You're nothing but a bag of bugs. Did you think I wouldn't notice, Sun Hee?

🌻- I've been doing my best not to make mistakes and do things right, in fact... I shouldn't even explain this to you. You can believe what you want but that doesn't mean it's the truth, my truth.

🥀- HAHA! Just because you've done a couple of things right doesn't mean you're not a disaster! You thought that if no one said it would disappear, right? Is that your truth? you are really stupid haha

🌻- ...

🥀-It is very vile from you to try to avoid it by covering it with excuses. Such a vile person has no right to think for herself.

🌻- Explain, please.

🥀-You know very well that thanks to your stupidity you have dragged yourself into the abyss... But in reality you deserve to be lower than that abyss.

🌻- Ah...

🥀-Your reality is nothing more than that. What, are you surprised? You thought it was more than what you are, right?

🌻- No. I just believe in myself. And do you know what I tried to do all these days? I tried to let Ray learn to trust himself. No one can tell you how much are you worth , only YOU know that.

🥀-You are the worst. You not only overestimate yourself, but you think you are a princess. Who in the world is going to love you? Nobody wants you in this world. Nobody!

🌻- Ray does it.

🥀- Listen to me well. I am going to tell you about a game that is just for you.

���- Go ahead.

🥀- Now you can only said to me one thing. You can only answer "Yes"

🌻-!

🥀-Okay, answer me.

[The golden-haired girl kept her lips sealed, looking nonchalantly at the man before her. All her life she had said yes to things that made her feel bad, putting aside her own feelings and desires, but this was the limit. She wasn't going to give in that easily. ]

🥀-You say it very low. I can't hear you... What do you say? I can not hear you.

🌻-....

🥀- I DON'T HEAR YOU!

[At that moment, the sapphire-eyed girl shrugged her shoulders a little, barely closing her eyes while she returned to taking that firm and annoying posture. She was not going to return violence with more violence but letting herself be stepped on was not in her ideals.]

🥀-Are you that stupid? You are nothing but arrogance! You don't even deserve to be purified. You are so foolish that you don't deserve to even rebel.

🌻-....

🥀-Your hopes are useless. Only hell will get closer. Remember well the rule that I just told you.

Since you are of no use, at least you have to entertain me in my spare time.

🌻- Ray wouldn't want that and neither would I, I won't.

🥀- ... Ah, I'm going to have to shut your mouth or something. When you become more docile and obedient, only then will I let you speak. By the way, didn't I tell you, that I hate the way you smell?

🌻- You said it.

🥀-And you still smell like this?

🌻- It's perfume, I'm not going to stop getting perfumed-

🥀- You don't know how to wash yourself properly? You haven't just poured water on yourself like up to now, right?

🌻-...!? EXCUSE ME?

[The young girl asked with some indignation, ironic that of everything said by the white-haired boy that was the only thing that really offended her severely.]

🥀- I'm going to tell you how and how much you need to wash before meeting me-

🌻- Hey, hey, that's already too intimate. I don't smell dirty, it's perfume I'm wearing-

(KNOCK KNOCK)

🥀-What's up? Don't interrupt me!

(KNOCK KNOCK)

[In a blink, that boy was standing up leaving the blonde on that cold ceramic floor.]

🥀-Consider that you are lucky.... No, forget about it. Because next time you're going to pay me double.

Enter!

?- Mr. Ray. The Savior..

🥀-... What?

🌻- !?-

?- Ah, sorry. Mr Saeran. The savior is looking for you.

🥀-Someone who can't even memorize a name doesn't deserve to talk about the Savior. I'm going to have to check the system here.

?- My apologies...

🥀-Once you find yourself in the basement, you'll realize you didn't need to apologize.

[Sun Hee slowly sat down, looking at the scene and coming to feel sorry for that stranger who had made a mistake, unfortunately for people with DID, expected.]

[Deep down she felt terrible, all her life she had been extremely submissive to that kind of treatment and suddenly starting to defend herself was not something that made her feel safe about her actions. She wanted to think that she was acting well but she didn't know it, she was trying to stay calm so as not to worry anyone but the weight of her emotions and Saeran's dealings were driving her crazy.]

[heartlessfujoshi]

the horndog and the prince(ss) - a rufusreno multi-chapter fic

Title: The Horndog and the Prince(ss) Chapter: 3 of 10 Fandom: FFVII Compilation Pairing: RufusReno (Rufus Shinra x Reno) Rating: Explicit (Explicit Sexual Content - Timeline what Timeline - Mirror Sex) Word Count: ~2,250

Ch 1 Ch 2

---

Rufus woke up a few hours later to his PHS ringing, his head throbbing only a little at having been startled awake. He reached for his phone, expecting to feel a warm body next to him, but there was only empty space there. Opening his phone up, he put it to his ear. “Yes.” He answered, sitting up as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Did you forget we have a meeting, sir?” He heard the distinct voice of Reeve Tuesti coming through his receiver. “We were to meet and discuss my new projects that I'm hoping will be funded by your generous pocket.” 

He looked over at his bedroom door, and could smell the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. That meant that Reno was nearby. Good. Rufus got out of bed, and pulled his underwear on. “Can we meet in thirty?” 

“Thirty is fine, sir.” Reeve ended the call, making it easier on him as he hated awkward goodbyes. 

Walking out of his bedroom, he saw Reno was sitting at his dining table, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee. “We’re leaving in twenty.” Rufus commented, then went and poured himself a cup of coffee. “How the hell can you drink this shit?” The coffee was the strongest he’d ever tasted in his life. “How does your heart not stop?” 

“Ye’ll get used to it, Princess.” Reno tapped his cigarette onto a small dessert plate that had become a makeshift ashtray. “Hope ya don’t mind.” 

“It’s a little too late if I did, wouldn’t you agree?” He saw Reno was eyeing him. “What?” 

“Never fancied you were a man that liked to wear colorful shorts.” 

Rufus looked down, and saw that the underwear he’d chosen to put on had been a pair of chocobo boxer briefs. “Am I not allowed to wear things that one might deem as undignified?” 

“Yer the richest man in the world, Ruf’. I don’t think it really matters whatcha want to wear or not. Jes figured ye were a guy that preferred an all black wardrobe. Ye know, considering how ye dress and all.” 

He supposed that the redhead had a point. “Did Tseng go over what has to happen as you watch me?” 

“Ye. Should be no problem, yo.” Reno snuffed out his smoke, and stood up. Rufus drank more of the bitter liquid in his cup, grimacing as he swallowed. It was fucking awful. “Go get ready. We’ll leave in fifteen.” 

“Right.” He set the cup down, then pointed his finger at the Turk. “You finish that. I can’t drink that shit.” 

“Don’t mind if I do.” 

Rufus went back to his bedroom, and went into his ensuite bathroom. Standing under the spray of his shower, he could feel his ass still tingling where Reno had whacked him a few times. He put his hand against the sore spot and moaned softly, his cock perking up with renewed interest as he rubbed his hand over it. He shook it off, knowing that right now wasn’t the right time to get those sorts of feelings. He had a business to maintain, and now that Reno was going to be around him twenty-four seven for the next week, he knew it was going to be a difficult task no matter what life threw at him. 

Fixing his white jacket, he examined himself in his closet mirror, pleased that his cleaners were able to get the blood out. The last time he’d worn this particular jacket, he’d been in a rather nasty fight which had ended in bloodshed. Rufus saw Reno staring at him through their reflections. “Say your peace.” 

“Can’t a man admire the way his lover looks?” Reno was now leaning up against the door jamb, his arms crossed over his chest. And Rufus couldn’t believe how attractive he found him. The lazy attitude. The ‘I don’t give a fuck’ look on his face. Everything about Reno right now was screaming at him, and he hated it. His hormones were in control of him in a way that they’d never been before. He’d never had this problem before engaging with the redhead. 

Rufus pushed his bangs off of his head, but didn’t turn around as he stared at Reno’s reflection. “Is that what I am?” 

“I mean, ya shoulda been a one night stand but yaa fucked up on that front.” Reno approached him, and Rufus couldn’t help but close his eyes as he felt Reno’s presence behind him. His heart startled in his chest as he felt Reno’s hands touch his hips, and then a soft moan passed his lips as Reno’s breath touched his ear. “Ye’re fuckin’ gorgeous and ya know it. Don’tcha, Ruf’?” 

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re implying, Reno.” He didn’t have time for this. “We have to leave.” 

“No, we don’t.” 

Opening his eyes, he looked into Reno’s green eyes and felt his ears beginning to ring as his heartbeat became more pronounced. “Excuse me?” 

“I said, no we don’t, yo.” Reno’s hands on his hips gave them a firm squeeze, Rufus’ body responding almost immediately to the force being shown. “Do I gotta remind ya who ye are?” 

Another slow breath left his chest as he glared at Reno. “I know who I am, you fool.” 

“Oh, I know ya do, Princess.” The hand on his left hip was moved, and was now palming his growing erection. Rufus moaned, unable to stop himself as he felt the heat rise up to his cheeks as Reno’s breath touched his ear again. “Open yer eyes, Rufus.” 

He did, and saw that Reno’s hand was now unzipping his pants, and was pushing it down until his hand found his cock. Rufus’ eyes stared at their reflection, and moaned low as Reno pulled his cock out into the open. He could see the tip dripping with precum, his body clearly wanting more. “I have a meeting.” 

“Which ye can be late for. Ye were already late once.” Reno’s eyes kept him trapped, Rufus staring into them as he felt his hand start to stroke his cock with just enough pressure to feel good, but not enough to make it feel great. “Ye like being late, don’tcha?” 

Rufus dropped his head, moaning low as he could feel Reno’s cock pushing up against his ass. “I don’t.” He whispered, but deep down, he knew Reno was right. There was a certain thrill knowing that someone was waiting for him, while he was here, doing things that he shouldn’t be doing. 

“One quick fuck, what do ya say, Princess?” Reno asked him, his thumb now pushing against the tip of his cock. “Only, ya gotta do somethin’ for me, yo.” 

“A-Anything.” He would agree to anything the redhead requested. It was how bad he needed him right now. Reno could ask him to jump off the tower, and he would say yes. It would be foolish, and he knew it, but there was something about Reno’s commanding presence that had him wanting to do anything he wanted. 

Reno put his hand on his chin, and tilted it upwards until their eyes met again in the mirror. “Stay like that.” 

Knowing what he wanted, Rufus moaned in anticipation as he felt Reno yank his pants down to expose his ass to him. He saw the redhead go over to his dresser, and watched him roll a condom onto his cock. Rufus stood still, his cock dripping as he waited for the redhead to return. Reno put his arm around his waist, and held him close, the tip of his cock now probing against his ass, looking for that opening that would benefit them both. And as soon as he slid home, Rufus released a moan that made his throat hurt. 

His eyes stayed locked onto Reno’s but he could see him thrusting his hips back and forth, his body moving to the beat as Reno’s hand returned to his cock. Rufus was tempted to look at his own cock, but there was something about the way that Reno was staring at him, it kept him trapped. He moaned, his chest arching up as Reno’s cock pushed deep inside of him. 

“Ya gonna come again, Princess?” Reno asked, his breath hot against his ear. Rufus nodded his head fast, knowing that he was already set to explode. Staring at them in the mirror was doing wonders for his arousal, and all he could think about was how good Reno was making him feel. “Go ahead and come fer me.” 

Rufus broke off their eye contact as he felt the unmistakable heat begin, signaling to his brain that he was close. And after a few more rough thrusts, Rufus was moaning through an orgasm, the tip of his cock erupting with more fluid that shouldn’t have been possible given the amount of sex the two of them had already had, and yet here he was, defying the odds. “R-Reno…” He moaned the redhead’s name, caught in the throes of an intense orgasm, his head going numb from head to toe. 

“That’s right, baby…” Reno murmured into his ear, as his hips began to pound into him roughly. “I gave that to ya.” Reno groaned, Rufus tilting his head back against his shoulder as he felt him buck his hips hard. “Me.” 

“Y-You…” He agreed, nodding his head as everything continued to spin. Reno released a deep grunt, and then Rufus knew that the redhead had found his own release. He sank back against him, panting softly as he struggled to remain on his feet. 

Reno pulled out of him, and as he did, Rufus grunted as he hadn’t been prepared for the connection to be severed so quickly. He watched as Reno pulled the condom off, and then tossed it into the wastebasket with a few tissues, and then saw him approach him with a few more tissues, and began to wipe up his ass. Rufus pulled up his pants, then looked at the redhead, who was adjusting his own Turk issued suit. 

“Why do I feel like this week is going to be a problem for the both of us?” 

“I dunno whatcha mean, yo.” Reno grinned, then tapped his wrist where there wasn’t a watch. “I think we’ve got some time before yer meeting.” 

He looked at his own watch, and saw that yes, they were in the window of when he was supposed to be at Reeve’s office. So he would be five minutes late. No big deal. And after that great fuck, he was glad for the tardiness. “You’re correct. Let’s go.” 

“Whatever ya say, boss.” 

Rufus knocked on Reeve’s door, and walked into his office without a second care in the world. “Now, what did you want to discuss with me, Reeve?” He asked, taking a seat in front of Reeve’s desk, ignoring the mechanical cat he could see leaning up against the wall. “What sorts of projects are you hoping that Shinra will pay for this time?” 

“Where’s Tseng?” Reeve asked, as Reno stayed out front of the opened office door. 

“I wasn’t aware that it was any of your business where my Turks were.” Rufus glared at the scientist, not at all interested in dealing with him. He would much rather be back in his apartment, preferably without any clothes on, and with a certain redhead’s cock shoved deep inside of his ass. He shifted on his chair, as if feeling the thickness inside of him. But sadly, there was nothing there, only the reminder of it being there less than seven minutes ago. It was a heady feeling, knowing that. Rufus took a deep breath, hoping that his face didn’t look as hot as it felt.  

Reeve’s face paled, and he bowed his head. “Sorry, sir. That wasn’t the way I intended it to sound. My sincerest apologies.” 

“Yes, fine. Now, what do you wish to show me?” 

He sat in Reeve’s office for close to two hours before making it to his own office. Reno stood guard outside, leaving him to be in peace. Rufus stood at the window that overlooked Midgar, and wondered how in Gai he’d wound up where he was currently. Or, rather, how he was managing to hold his hormones in check, as Reno stood outside of his office, making sure no one came in to harass him. He wanted the redhead to come in, lock the door, and do terrible things to him. 

We’re together for a week. You can wait. 

Rufus palmed his stiffening cock, willing it to go down. But it had a mind of its own, and it was itching to be touched again. Rufus, however, had work that needed to be done, so he ignored it and dived into the items that had been sitting on his desk since yesterday. He still needed to discuss with Reno about their arrangement, whatever the hell it was. The redhead had used the word ‘lover’ earlier, but was that accurate? Rufus didn’t think so, as he’d sort of entered unwillingly into this unexpected dalliance. He hoped that Reno would listen to him, but he had a feeling it might be difficult as they both seemed to have a thirst for each other that didn’t really seem to be satiated. At all. Rufus shook his head, picked up his pen and began to work - he’d deal with Reno later.  

---

Cross-posted to AO3

[izzy-b-hands]

daisy, plumeria, and lavender!

Ella!! Thank u 🫂❤️!

Daisy— what is your idea of the perfect date?

I want to say something fancy, because I do have Dream Date Ideas that are v fancy (a night to the theatre, or going on a slightly longer drive to visit something interesting, a nice dinner somewhere normally neither person could afford but you can if you split the bill, etc) but all of those rely on me being in the right frame of mind and prepared to deal with any new or weird sensory stuff. And unfortunately, my brain isn't doing so hot in regulating that at the current time.

So for now, I would definitely lean towards something like a regular movie date, or even better for me personally:

Rent a hotel room, split the cost (so neither of you have to know where the other person lives if you aren't at a stage to be trusting them with that info yet), and have a movie night and/or gaming night there. You can order room service, be comfortable and assured that if the person winds up being an ass, you can call downstairs and get the fuck out of there. Plus, if it gets to the point of fucking, you're already on the bed and can multitask with whatever you're watching.

It's admittedly a weirdly lazy one (or so I've been told lmao), but I don't like the idea of putting high expectations on this stuff if you don't have/want to. It should be enough to want to hang out together at all, see how you feel abt each other, and go from there to different/fancier/etc date stuff.

Plumeria— are you currently working on any creative projects? if so, what kinds?

I'm working on my Izzy Hands Bingo Card prompts (six done! But more to go if I want to get a blackout on the card!) and also plan to do some of the prompts for the Our Flag Au-gust post that's been going around.

Aside from those I should really be trying to make a video poem for Button Poetry's video contest (opens in a few days!), but I've such low confidence in my writing at the moment that I'm not sure i can be vulnerable enough to write a decent poem lmao.

Lavender— what is currently on your mind (aside from this ask game)?

I'm stoned off my ass, so a stupid number of things, which is only slightly more than when I'm sober, but-

I want to be more productive, but I keep burning out whenever I even vaguely try to put the metaphorical pedal to the metal and I don't know how to fix myself. There are dishes I need to do. I need to remember how to be vulnerable and a little more stupid and vapid so I can get out of my own head and be brave enough to post more writing, original and fic. I need another tattoo. I need to ace my job interview tomorrow so I can make more money faster and be able to afford said tattoo. I need my grandfather to be okay after his knee replacement sx this fall (he probably will be but he's got high blood pressure and our family has an unfortunate pattern of dying during routine medical procedures, and he already nearly did that once with his appendix while he was in the Air Force, but who's to say that doesn't mean this time it would be The Time?) I should be better. I want to learn to be okay with being worse.

And I have a slice of cake Housemate bought for me tonight, sitting beside me. If I can manage even three more calls on my next shift (930-1215) then I'll let myself eat it as a reward, even though I need a lot more than three calls. But I'm trying not to think about that last bit too much.