#it's not that she hates the holiday per se

[butmakeitgayblog]

Are any of your clexa's a Grinch when it comes to the holidays?

Demon Lexa 😌

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  CHRISTMAS LOVE

SUMMARY : dean ate something he shouldn’t have eaten, but in the meantime, there’s something to ease the ache until it can be fixed. not that it’s a problem… per se..

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), handjob, cum eating, cum kissing, p in v, aphrodisiac chocolate cookies 

WORD COUNT : 2.3k

A/N : jimin song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — aphrodisiac. yup, I thought I hated Christmas, but actually it’s not so bad if it's centred around Dean. ✨mental illness✨ XXX

Everything was fine for the last forty minutes or so. 

Dean helped his girlfriend set up the television in their bedroom—his bedroom that he partially convinced her to stay in permanently—put the snacks together, while stealing some chocolate-peppermint thumbprint cookies Charlie brought over earlier today, as his girlfriend stayed in his room to choose a Christmas movie.

He knew it would be about the Grinch. She was pretty Grinch-y sometimes around Christmas, but just like the Grinch, Dean got her to change her mind about Christmas being the most awful holiday. 

But Christmas definitely couldn’t beat Halloween—it’s their number one, favourite holiday. 

But… back to the main point, Dean couldn’t relax. He tried everything, imagined his go-to turn offs when he’s unbearably horny: Sam in lingerie, Cas in lingerie, hell—even Charlie in lingerie. He’d cringed at the thought of them, completely disgusted as his mind made it like a film without his permission, but their faces and bodies ended up transforming into the woman currently laying in his arms.

Nothing worked, not reliving being in Hell, not the memory of having the Mark—nothing made his dick soft. Mostly because after every single bad day, he went to her. 

It was her he buried himself into, her lips that kissed away tears, her caresses that healed up his wounds… you see? His mind is going straight to it like there’s no other path to take. He usually doesn’t mind, and neither does she, but this is supposed to be a wholesome moment. Just her and him watching a movie together, that’s all that he wanted to do for her today. 

Unfortunately, his dick had other ideas.

She’s not even fully clothed, which makes it even worse for him. She’s wearing nothing beneath the blue flannel she borrowed from him—no underwear, no bra, just some fluffy Christmas socks on her feet. Just the thought of it made his cock twitch. He bit his lip to hold back a moan. 

It wasn’t her fault she was practically naked. Sometimes he was way too hot and she’d end up uncomfortably sweaty in the middle of the night. Her solution: wear nothing but Dean’s shirt. It was great, Dean could smother her and be wrapped around her without her trying to get away, but right now, it ain’t that great. 

Right now, Dean knows that with one move from either one of them and she’d know what was up: yup, his dick.

Still, he was squirming too much for it to go unnoticed. And he shoved food into his mouth to pretend the chips, and the brownies, and everything else he ate were making him moan. Unlike her, he was wearing his t-shirt, some boxers, and socks to combat the cold of his concrete room. But now, he was flushed, and hot, and completely uncomfortable. 

“Dean,” she scolded, turning aggressively onto her back to gaze up at him. “What’s up? You can’t sit still—which is normal, but not this much…” she trailed off, immediately identifying the blush on his cheeks and the glaze of lust in his green eyes. “Woah, what’s that for?” She teased, poking his cheek. 

He grabbed her hand quickly before she could pull it away and kissed her palm. “Nothin’,” he brushed off, but his heart was pounding hard in his chest, and his hand tightened around her wrist as his mind told him over and over: dammit, just touch her. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” she said playfully, biting her lip. Subtly, she moved her hand away from her stomach and brushed her hand up his crotch experimentally. Dean groaned softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Ah, a boner,” she said casually, then squeezed his cock over his boxers.

“You do know we’re watching the Grinch and not a porno right?” She continued to taunt with a grin on her face. He whined softly, opening his eyes to glare down at her. She batted her lashes at him innocently, but he knew she meant well. 

“You think I don’t know that?” He asked breathily. His eyes softened when she sneaked her hand inside the stretchy waistband of his briefs and brushed her fingertips along the length of his cock. “God… I… please,” he moaned, leaning over her to bury his face in her neck. 

“I’ve got you,” she told him quietly, pulling her hand out to hook her fingers over the waistband of his boxers and lower them down his thighs. He cursed softly, and allowed her to push his chest so he could lie down on his back. She straddled his thighs and smiled down at him hotly, lifting her hand up to her mouth to leave her palm slick in saliva before wrapping it around him. 

“Fuck, yes,” he whispered, clutching her thighs. 

Warm and heavy in her hand, she squeezed his shaft gently and held eye contact with him as she stroked up and down. He smoothed his hands up her thighs, grasping her hips beneath his warm flannel. He attempted to bring her forward, and she did move forward, and slid her hand up beneath his shirt to lift it.

“Come like this, yeah?” She asked, starting to twist her hand up and down his cock. He whined, a cute pout drawing his lips downwards.

“Is this… are you not turned on?” Dean questioned breathily, slightly surprised by her proposition. He didn’t try to convince her otherwise and kept his hands still on her hips. 

“I am…” she smiled, then dropped her gaze down to his cock, watching the swift slide upwards and downwards of her hand over his excitement, “but I wanna finish the movie.” He bit his lip, his eyes flickering down to her hand moving quick and steady, his precum aiding each stroke. “Then… we can have fun.” 

He hummed thoughtfully, “I’m sorry…” He’d like to apologise to her fully for ruining the night, but he gave into the pleasure of her soft hand wrapped around his cock, letting the heat of his arousal and the spark of his orgasm take over his body.

“No, I’m good with this,” she smiled sweetly, ignoring the throb of her clit and flood of arousal between her legs.

She worshipped him quietly, focused on touching his freckled skin with his shirt shoved up his chest. As he throws his head back, blushing red, vocalising the pleasure that’s painted across his stunning face. 

She faintly remembers what Dean looked like when he was younger. He’s much older now, still so beautiful—always. His face is not smooth, stubble covers his jaw, wrinkles enhance the beauty of his eyes, and always those goddamn lashes of his, curled upwards naturally. 

He’s covered from head to toe in freckles, cute freckles, some light, others dark. Sometimes they make patterns, triangles, a trail that fades, some of them overlap. He thinks it makes him look dirty, dusty, but he’s always had a heart-stopping beauty that no one could match. Effortless beauty no one could achieve. 

He’s much softer than before, but the faint cut of his abs remained. There were scars, too, ones Cas didn’t heal because Dean didn’t ask, but Cas comes through sometimes and does a full sweep. Eventually, she finds new scars, new scratches, new marks. Then, they disappear and she memorises him all over again. 

“Touch yourself,” Dean requested breathlessly, squirming and digging his blunt nails into the flesh of her hips. Lashes fluttered against his cheekbones as he opened his eyes. 

“Touch myself?” She repeated with a gentle laugh, lifting her hand up to his face. He instantly leaned into her touch and slid one of his hands to the small of her back to bring her closer. “Baby, I only wanna touch you,” she whispered enticingly, cupping his jaw to brush her thumb across his lip. 

Up and down, she continued to give him pleasure, knowing he was close as he throbbed in her hand, as his muscles twitched with every passing second. His breath hitched and she squeezed him, moving her hand faster, then lowered her hand away from his face to use both hands on his cock. 

Hands wet with his precum, she made a ring with her finger to massage the frenulum and spread the sticky arousal dribbling out of the slit of his cockhead with her thumb. 

She licked her lips at the sight and smirked, “come for me, Dean.” It was hot that she had this much control over him. His body hardened and he called out her name as he spilled hot release over her hand and his stomach. 

Curses spilled from his mouth and he seized her mischievous hands when she refused to stop. “You’re still hard,” she murmured, stunned, but he was too pleased with the release to pay attention to her words. 

“You’re mean,” Dean complained breathily, eyes opening lazily.

“It’s a gift you’ll open later tonight,” she promised in a joking manner, taking her hands out from his loving grasp. “You’re still hard, by the way,” she repeated curiously, gripping his still erect cock at the base. 

“Fuck… what?” He asked, bewildered, watching her move back and lean down to lick his cum off his stomach. He whimpered quietly, his cock red and pretty in her hand still, one hundred percent still aroused. 

The fact that she was licking his cum off his tummy didn’t help at all. The warm, wet muscle flicked smoothly across his soft skin, gathering his tangy, creamy cum. Occasionally, her teeth would graze his skin, setting his nerves alight, and she’d suck until marks painted his body. Then, she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and sucked it clean with a pleased moan. 

He grunted and threw his head back into the pillow again. He blindly made contact with her hair, buried his fingers carefully into her silky locks and tugged her upwards. She went to him without resistance and kissed him as he waited for her slick lips.

The kiss was wet and erotic. He could taste his cum, felt some of it against her tongue, unswallowed. He took it with a moan of pleasure, licking across her tongue in gratitude. He moved her hair out of the way subconsciously, pressing her closer to him, impossibly close. 

He got a hold of her hip again and smoothed his hand up the curve of her back, lifting the flannel. She hummed inquisitively, pulling away momentarily before locking lips with Dean again to run her tongue along the roof of his mouth then to taste the unique peppermint on his tongue that was definitely not from any teeth-brushing. 

She pulled away and blinked down at him, silently intrigued as he caught his breath. “Am I cursed?” He wondered out loud, bringing her hips down onto his cock needily. They moaned in unison. “Oh, fuck… did we piss a witch off?” He whined, grinding his hips up into her wet folds. “Rowena,” he growled, wondering if he’d done something to piss off the Scottish red-head or if she'd done just to fuck with him. 

“Hey, slow down…” she gasped, unbuttoning Dean’s flannel from her body at last. “Did you eat those cookies Charlie brought?” She inquired, slowing down the roll of her hips. 

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, his tone puzzled. He opened his eyes, peeking up at the now-open flannel exposing her naked body to his dirty gaze. 

“Dean, oh my God,” she giggled, halting the movement of her hips. He frowned. “How many?” 

“I dunno, four.” He shrugged. Trying to regain her focus, he took his cock in his hand and found her clit with the soft head by pushing it up and down through her folds. She moaned softly, thighs shaking.  

“Yeah, this is not going away anytime soon,” she said quietly, squirming when he held her hip and nudged her forward. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his brows furrowing in bemusement. “What do cookies have to do wi-”

“They’re aphrodisiacs,” she interrupted him, shrugging his flannel off her shoulders before throwing it beside him. He gazed up at her, adorably dumbfounded. “Well, at least the chocolate is.” 

“What?! Why would she-? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, sitting up higher on the bed, carding his fingers through his honey hair, making it messy and sexy. 

“I… forgot. I was hanging out with Charlie and Stevie… I’m sorry,” she gave him an apologetic smile, but amusement glimmered in her eyes, which made him smile, too. 

“No.. babe, it’s okay, I’m just really horny…” he trailed off, then took her arms and tugged her towards him with a big smile on his face. 

“We can call Cas,” she offered with a laugh, giving him a sweet kiss when he brought her closer and nuzzled his nose against hers. 

“Why don’t we test this out, first?” He asked, sneaking his hand between her legs to circle his fingertips over her entrance. Her arousal drenched his fingers and he hummed, pleased with the copious slickness that coated her pussy. 

“Huh?” She murmured, preoccupied with his adept fingers as they found her clit and began drawing slow circles. She nibbled gently on his jaw and kissed her way down his neck. 

“Why else would Charlie make them?” Dean inquired, bending one knee to gently nudge her behind and silently guide her over to his cock. She pulled away from his throat to consider his question as he lined his cock up with her entrance.

“Well, she did say-” She started thoughtfully, sinking down on his cock. 

“Exactly,” Dean cut her off, enjoying the stretch of her walls around his cock. Dean gazed up at her lustfully, slid his hands up her thighs, and flattened one hand up her stomach. “Lean back, bend your knees,” he instructed, then bit his lip. 

She raised a brow at him, but did as he asked. She bent her knees and he hooked his arms beneath, wrapping them around to grip the top of her knees, spreading her legs open for a clear view of his cock inside her.

“Sorry about the movie,” he chuckled, lifting his hips upwards.

“I guess it’s fair,” she smiled at him, leaning back with her arms behind her, between his legs, “since I forgot to tell you about the cookies.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s somethin’ to be sorry for.” 

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Nine - Prompt: Ocean @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 775 words

TW: Mild NSFW reference at the end

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

After his chat with Dorcas, Evan decided to take a walk. He wasn’t due back at the shop until Monday and already regretted requesting the entire week off. At the time, he’d allowed an ocean of sentiment to overrule his good sense. Catching up with his sister and obligatory family time seemed worth the lost hours and pay while he dodged Barty’s calls. Less so now.

I should call in and say I want to come back early.

Kingsley would probably agree right off. He was short three people over winter hols and was fully booked with appointments. It would be so easy to fall back into his routine. A routine that used to include his favourite customer. Barty had been a customer at The Ink Blot longer than Evan worked there, which meant Kingsley wasn’t willing to lose a long-time customer over a break-up.

He shoved that worry aside and texted his boss. If Kingsley said that he was needed, then he could play it up to his parents. His father would likely encourage him to go back and show a “good work ethic,” by which he really meant “work your arse off and quit relying on me.”

Kingsley’s answer was swift and definitive. “If you’re available, I have clients for you.”

Good enough.

Evan called his father and laid on the promise of holiday pay as thick as possible. It didn’t take much convincing. His father hated seeing him “loaf” around the house.

“Go on then. Your mum and I still expect you to attend the party though, comprenez-moi?”

“Oui, père.”

As soon as the call ended, he spun on his heel and headed into work. Evan needed the escape as much as he did the money. While he didn’t have many bills per se, he did have a healthy weed and cigarette habit to maintain.

By the time he reached the shop, there was a line six deep in the waiting area. He waved at Emmeline, who was manning the front desk and looked relieved to see him.

“So glad to see you, Evan!” she said, blowing him a kiss. “You’re a peach, darling. A peach!”

“Give me a few to set up, then send them back.”

She saluted him with two fingers, then returned her attention to the customer that she was assisting. He didn’t envy her job. Helping people choose a design was his least favourite part of the job. Evan could happily spend hours losing himself to the hum of his gun and methodical line work, but managing indecisive twats was not his forte.

As he set up his station, Evan tried to ignore the nagging images of Barty sprawled out on his table. The first time that he saw him walk in, Evan knew he was trouble. When Barty threw himself onto the table and winked at him a few weeks later, he knew that he would dive headfirst into it.

“You’re the new kid, right?” Barty said, tucking his hands behind his head.

“I’m new, yes. What did you pick and where is it going?”

Barty shrugged, then pulled off his shirt. “I’m not picky. Do whatever you want.”

Evan stared at him for a full five minutes before realising that he was serious. Every inch of Barty’s chest and arms was covered in random tattoos. His skin was complete chaos. There were three large tattoos in sight and a hodgepodge filled in around them. A snake that coiled up the right side of his chest and neck, the spiderweb that stretched across his left hip, and a large collection of daggers fanned out in a semi-circle below his belly button and pointed at groin.

“You don’t have anywhere to—”

“Check my back.” He sat up and turned away.

“No, not really. Unless you want it here.” Evan pressed a gloved finger at the base of his spine. “Think you can handle a tramp stamp?”

Barty snorted loudly, then nodded. “Yeah, go wild, man. Whatever you want to do is fine by me.”

It wasn’t until he was two hours in with Barty face down on the table and his jeans tugged down below his bum that it hit Evan. He planned this position. He wanted Evan to stare at his sparsely covered arse for multiple hours. Barty watched him intently as he drew the intricate vines that teased the tail of another snake that mimicked the one on the front.

Evan bought weed from Barty, then sucked him off after-hours on that same table three random tattoos later. Now it was a humbling memory. He didn’t regret it, not really. It was just one more mistake to learn from.

Next Part>>>

[liyawritesss]

can you do more reader x riri maybe a date night or something on campus

ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ

Character: MCU!Riri Williams x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Synopsis: School is out for the semester, and all Riri wants is to spend some quality time with her girlfriend back home.

Warnings: Some BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER spoilers if you haven't watched the movie. Some cursing as well but overall just some tear jerking fluff

A/N: I may have went a lil sidetracked with this request. I couldn't really think of any good date night ideas on campus per se, but I do think that during the cold Riri would prefer indoor dates with her loved, and that's kind of how this came about. I hope you enjoy nonetheless! Suggested songs to listen to while reading: Lauv's "I Like Me Better".

Also, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my followers, mutual, friends, family, and important people in my life, on Tumblr and beyond. Yall have made this an enjoyable year and I can't wait to spend many more with you guys!!

Tags: @verachii @rxcently @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @inmyheadimobsessed @lunerenzo @letitias-fav

December 17th. The day that college students all across America had been waiting for since the start of the semester….the end of it.

Riri was all too happy to be boarding the plane back to Chicago. Her and her mother had packed up her dorm room the day prior, so all that was left to go back home was herself. While Boston had its perks, there was nothing there that could even begin to compare to the wonders of the Windy City. And it didn’t have the people she really cared about, either.

Speaking of, the moment she got settled on the plane, an inbound Facetime request caught her attention. The caller ID on the screen read ‘babygirl <3’. A smile instantly spread across her face.

“Hi baby!” Your cheery voice chimes through the cellular device once she answers it. “You’re just gettin’ on the plane?”

“Yeah, takeoff is in like twenty minutes they said,” Riri replies, plopping down in her seat after putting her carryon in her overhead compartment. “I cannot wait to be home. I be tired of Boston the moment I step in this bitch.”

Your giggle warms the engineers heart as she stares at you endearingly, her head leaning on the window which shows the outside of the plane. “What’chu doin’, mamas?”

“Ah, I was just finishing something up for you,” you reply, and by the tone of your voice shifting from cheery to bashful, Riri could tell it was from the nickname she had given you. Her eyebrows furrow together as you add on “It’s a surprise!”

“Oh no, what’chu don’ did now?” Riri questions, her tone playful. She breaks out into a toothy grin as she sees your face feigning hurt.

“Me? Why you always assume I don’ did somethin’ bad?”

“‘Cus whenever I come home, you always in some trouble!”

“It’s not my fault! The world just…hates me!”

“Yeah, okay, (Y/N),”

The overhead intercom beeps alive, and the voice of one of the plane staff begins to ring from the speaker above Riri. “Attention all passengers. This flight will be ready for takeoff in ten minutes. Please follow the necessary precautions regarding electronic devices, personal carry ons, etc. Thank you for flying with us, and we hope you have an enjoyable flight.”

“You heard her, babe. I gotta go,” and although your pout makes Riri want to continue the Facetime call, her resolve is much stronger than any puppydog eyes you could pull on her. “I’ll meet you when I land, okay baby?”

“Okayyy…” You reply, drawing out the last syllable of the word. “I love you. Be safe!”

“I love you, too, mamas. I’ll be home before you know it.”

The moment you saw Riri coming from the escalator, you instantly bolted to her, despite her mother’s protests. Riri virtually dropped everything in her hands and rushed to you as well, both of you colliding in a bone crushing embrace that left you two on the floor of the airport terminal, smothering each other’s faces with kisses of endearment and a many ‘I missed you’s.

“Aight, nah, y’all get up, people’s is startin’ to stare!” Ronnie warned, but it was a moment before her words registered with the both of you. You were just so happy to see each other, after basically four months apart and constant schedule conflicts. But when the reality that what you were doing may have been a teeny bit inappropriate for the airport set in, you helped Riri get her previously discarded belongings, and the three of you were off back to Riri’s home.

Ronnie spoke of some business she needed to take care of, but when Riri asked for specifics, the older woman replied “Grown folks stuff,” with a mischievous smile. And with her gaze shooting to you for a quick second, Riri suspected that whatever you had planned for her arrival, her mother had conspired, so much so that she was leaving the two of you at the house for an unspecified amount of time. Who knew a mother could be their child’s girlfriend’s best wing woman?

“C’mon, baby, just show me what it is,” the engineer whined, becoming impatient, “is it in my room? It’s in my room, ain’t it!”

“Calm down, speed-ball,” you replied, “Just keep your eyes closed and you’ll see soon enough.”

Although Riri wanted to open her eyes now, she obeyed, and kept her eyes closed as you led her through the house and to her room. You twisted the knob of the door and opened it quietly, guiding your girlfriend through the threshold. After centering her in the middle of her room, you took a step back, and told her to open her eyes. What Riri saw absolutely stunned her speechless.

Her room, with lilac walls and a variety of posters littering the walls, that once had junk neatly scattered everywhere, had been completely transformed. In the top ceiling corners, false vines wrapped around the four walls, and with them were lantern colored LED lights that shone a warm white color. Her bedding had been replaced with a more festive covering, the blanket, sheets, and pillowcases having small reindeer pattern on the white background (save for two pillows, which just had new white silk pillowcases on them). In one corner was a snack table set up with both of your favorites, most - if not all - holiday themed. And in the space above her dresser, which would have held a TV, had the projection of Netflix on its walls. Also on the bed were two matching pajama sets, with black tops and red, green and white plaid pants.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Riri breathed in disbelief, “You did all this?”

You nodded proudly. “With some help from Ms. Ronnie, she helped with the projector.”

The engineer is still in a state of shock when you come to her side, placing a peck on her cheek. “We can unpack later, but you, my darling, deserve to relax a little,” You add on, taking her face into your hands. You smile when you see her visibly melt into them. “I know MIT’s been kicking your ass.”

Riri takes the opportunity, and your closeness, to place a short kiss of gratitude on your lips. “Nah you know damn well them white folks ain’t got shit on me, mama.”

Her words make you laugh, because you know it’s true. “Aight, baby, lets get you in the shower.”

After an hour of showering and getting cute for your evening in, including a water fight in the shower, trying not to slip on the wet floor the both of you made, and taking a couple of mirror selfies in your matching pajamas, you and Riri find refuge in her bed, snacking on the various little food options you so graciously provided. Riri has her head on your chest as she munches on a bag of Takis, while the movie Gremlins is projected onto the wall above her dresser; though little attention is being paid to the movie itself, as Riri is disclosing information from the last few weeks that she was away.

It’s moments like these that Riri misses the most about being away at MIT. Sure she gets to make different gadgets and best preppy white boys in chemical equations, but nothing will ever beat coming home to the girl she loves.

“And then come to find out the fish-lookin’ nigga just needed to be baked a lil’ bit to knock his ass down-” It’s the way you burst out laughing, almost spitting out your drink, at her description of the legendary fight she was able to witness as part of the attack force in Wakanda. Riri laughs too as she looks up at you from her position on your chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, cuz it really sounds like she turned him into some grilled tilapia-!”

“-and did! And did!”

Your shared laughter echoed throughout the four lilac walls of Riri’s room, the christmas movie being played from the projector becoming obsolete to the two of you at that moment. When the laughter finally began to cease, you caught Riri staring at you. Not an awkward kind of stare, nor an examining one. Just a gaze of endearment as she placed her head on the plush of your thighs, not breaking eye contact.

“What’chu lookin’ at me like that for?” you question, bashful, at the intensity of her gaze, Riri just shrugs, and turns her head to the ceiling.

“Nothin’, just…thinkin’,” she replied. There's a slight pause, before her eyes return back to you, and she starts to speak once again.

“I like me better when I’m with you,” the engineer confesses. Riri reaches for your free hand, and you happily hand it over to her. Her words intrigue you, as you’re unsure why she randomly spoke them, but nonetheless, your heart warms at them.

As though you spoke your confusion aloud, Riri sits up, her fingers now intertwined with yours, and she continues on; “I mean- like, when I’m in Boston, it’s like I’m on autopilot. I just kinda do shit ‘cuz I have to. But when I’m here- when I’m with you…everything makes sense. I ain’t gotta stress about shit, I’on have to be perfect. I look at you and shit makes sense, y’know? It’s corny as fuck but…I really don’t know where I’d be without you, (Y/N).”

It’s a revelation Riri came to while stationed in Wakanda for her protection against Talokan. Not being able to contact you because of the secrecy of the whole ordeal gave her ample time to think about you and your place in her life. Because truth be told, when Riri was around you, she was a completely different person compared to being in Boston or being at Princess Shuri’s side. With you, life was effortless, love was plentiful, and the idea of being separated from you, the reality of being separated from you with no contact, tore her up inside.

You were truly her peace.

Riri’s words made your eyes tear up a little. The engineer was never good with words - her actions and the ability to show what she was about was something she always prided herself in - but to hear the sincerity and ingenuity spill from her lips was a gift like no other.

You took your interlocked hands, bringing them to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, soft and sweet-smelling from the cocoa-butter she applied onto her skin after the shower. She was heaven in your hands, and you would do anything to protect and love Riri with all your heart.

There wasn’t a need to exchange anymore words - the look in which you two shared spoke enough volumes that mother nature herself could hear the comforting silence, and take from it the love you two shared and melt away the frosty December cold and snow. And the two of you rested with your foreheads pressed together, hands holding each other, smiling like idiots in love, as the moonlight from the sky bathed the two of you in a glow fit for goddesses.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Female Soulmate

Requested By: NA (inspired by a post I saw months ago but can't find now. If it's your post or you have the link to it, please let me know so that I can give proper credit for the idea)

Word Count: 3,751

Summary: Soulmate AU. Every person is born with a tattoo of the sounds they'll hear when they meet their soulmate.

Stranger Things Masterlist Eddie Munson Masterlist

~~~~~

Birds. 

Fuckin birds. That's all she had to go on. She'd hear birds of all things. What a lousy tattoo. It did make her feel slightly better, though, knowing her soulmate would have the same thing to work with. The same thing being, essentially, nothing. 

She heard birds every single day. How on earth was she supposed to know which birds were the right ones? Which birds would be the ones who's songs told her that's him. That's your soulmate. 

The people in her life told her that it would be easy. They all said she'd "just know." But nobody could tell her how. Nobody could tell her what happened when the right birds were singing at the right time. It frustrated her beyond reason whenever she'd let herself think about it. So, she did everything she could not to think about it. 

She kept herself busy with work as much as they'd let her. Picking up shifts, covering when the other waitresses had to leave, even working holidays to avoid the questions from her family. But when work wasn't an option, she could always turn to art. Drawing, specifically. 

The pages of her sketchbooks were full of random drawings from her day to day. She drew anything and everything that caught her attention. Flowers, shop windows, dogs in the park, strangers in line at the coffee shop. It didn't matter to her what it was, if it caught her eye at a moment that she was able to draw it, it was added to her collection. 

She enjoyed finding beauty in the mundane. Her tattoo had taught her to appreciate the smallest moments in life. She knew that she'd hear birds at the moment she met her soulmate. When she was a teenager she began to listen to the birds more closely. She learned to identify their different songs. Crows, robins, blue jays, cardinals. But her favorite song was that of the love bird. It was cliche, and she knew that. But she loved it nonetheless. Her father had joked that if she got good enough at knowing different bird calls, maybe her tattoo would suddenly change. "Tomorrow you'll wake up and it'll say 'warbler.'" he laughed over dinner. 

She'd spent time admiring her parents' tattoos when she was younger. She loved the simplicity of them. "Ocean" in the plain black ink of their wrists. It was funny, they'd say. Neither of them ever liked the beach. Her mother hated that the sand stuck to everything. Her father was prone to sunburn. But when both of their families had dragged them along on a beach vacation some 25 years ago, they found each other. 

It had become more or less a weekly ritual for her to set up at a local cafe on Monday mornings. She'd order her regular, a dirty chai latte and whichever pastry looked extra delicious that day. The baristas on shift would ask about her week, and tell her about theirs before she'd go out front to her favorite patio table. It sat in the corner of the patio, right beside the black metal fence around the perimeter. It was far enough from the door that she could draw and sketch uninterrupted, and gave a perfect view of the street and the neighborhood. 

This particular Monday morning had gotten off to a rocky start. She'd woken up later than she'd wanted. She didn't have a specific schedule per se, but she liked to be at the cafe early. Then the clouds overhead started to turn an angry, dark shade of grey as she walked down the street. She tucked her sketchbook tighter to her chest, hoping the clouds would be merciful today and not rain on her. 

A breath of relief fell from her mouth, cheeks puffing dramatically as she shut the cafe door behind her. "Looks nasty out there," she told the barista, Amber, with a smile. 

"Uh oh," She answered, her eyes going to the window. "Are you still gonna sit outside?" 

She was at the counter now, her wallet out and ready to pay. She looked outside at the dark sky. It hadn't rained yet. 

"Think I'll take my chances," she answered with a smile. And so she did. She collected her breakfast from Amber and made her way to her favorite table. Amber offered to bring out an umbrella if the skies began to look worse. 

Once she was sat at her table, she suddenly didn't notice the storm clouds above her. All of her focus, all of her energy, was on her sketchbook. She'd look up briefly now and then to find new inspiration. But as soon as something worthy caught her eye, her nose was buried once again in the off white pages. 

Hours had passed before she realized. Mondays were often like that. After ordering another drink, she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook. Her pages were often filled with small, unrelated and unconnected pieces. Flowers from the market right next to a mailbox she saw on her walk. A kitten that had been for sale at a garage sale the previous weekend, its ear nearly touching an old mechanics sign that hung on an abandoned building down the street from her house. She liked the randomness of it all, but she loved starting a new page even more. The crisp, untouched paper was full of nothing but potential. It was exhilarating. 

She noticed that the clouds began to shift only when the sunlight began to fall across the page of her book. The paper that had been a dull, almost sad shade of white suddenly illuminated in warm gold. She glanced up from the paper, taking a quick look at the sky above her. It seemed as though mother nature would be on her side. You could never be sure about weather in Indiana in March, but the tides seemed to be turning. And she couldn't be more glad. 

She picked up her bag from where it sat beside her feet. She just knew there had to be a pair of sunglasses in there somewhere. When her desperate attempts to locate the cheap plastic sunglasses failed, she groaned loudly to herself. She looked up, turning to her left, then to her right. 

When her head snapped a bit too quickly to the right, she suddenly didn't care about sunglasses. She didn't care that the bright afternoon sun had been hurting her eyes just ten seconds ago. The moment she saw him, she didn't care about anything. 

~~~~~

Blood will follow blood.

It was without a doubt the most metal soulmate tattoo he'd ever seen. Every other person Eddie was close to had boring tattoos. Traffic or bells. But his? He took pride in his. 

He'd tried more than a handful of times to write songs with those words. Heavy guitars, deep vocals. He had a fantasy, a dream that one day he'd write the perfect song. He'd play it at a show and that was when he'd meet her. His soulmate. He'd be sweaty from performing, she'd be beautiful and in awe of his musical genius. But so far, any time he tried to write that perfect song, the words fell flat. They weren't his to write, he supposed. 

He spent countless hours wondering what the words on his wrist meant. His first thought, obviously, was that they had to be song lyrics. But  he'd listened to countless records in his time, and he couldn't find them anywhere. His next bet was that it could be Dungeons and Dragons related. The game could get violent at times. It wasn't uncommon for him, or any other Dungeon Master he knew, to be gratuitous in their descriptions during a campaing. 

That took up most of his time, if he were honest. Being a Dungeon Master served as a perfect distraction during his last few years of high school. When everyone else around him was hooking up, biding their time until their actual soulmate arrived, he was nose deep in dungeon manuals and campaign writing. It didn't feel right to him to entertain anyone who wasn't his soulmate, so he didn't. 

The only thing that came close in terms of time spent as a distraction was baking. Eddie Munson made the best brownies in Hawkins. Anyone who had ever tried his baked goods would tell you, that boy had a gift. It had started after he moved in with his uncle. He'd found an old box of cake mix in the back of a cabinet and begged his uncle to make it for him. When uncle Wayne said no, not because he didn't want to, but because he was pretty sure it was expired, 12 year old rebel Eddie did not take his advice. The cake was awful. Absolutely disgusting. So, during his next grocery trip uncle Wayne bought two more boxes of cake mix. He taught Eddie what little he knew about doctoring up a boxed mix to make it even more delicious, and the rest was history. 

Eddie did what he could to get his hands on as many cookbooks as he could. He'd borrow from neighbors, the public library, he even got sweet old Mrs. Conley's from two doors down to give him her secret family cookie recipe. The secret, it turned out, was browned butter. Once he started, he really couldn't stop.

He'd spend hours in the tiny kitchen of his uncle's house mixing and measuring and baking. Once he'd gotten down the basics, cookies, cakes, brownies, even cinnamon rolls that would knock your tits clean off, he started to experiment. Poor, sweet uncle Wayne was more often than not the test subject for his creations. They weren't all great at first, but Wayne loved his nephew. He loved his curiosity. He loved that the little boy who'd been dropped on his step with two changes of clothes and nobody in the world was finally starting to shine. So he'd eat every single terrible thing Eddie ever baked with a smile. Well, he'd try to at least. He did eventually have to tell him that quadrupling the amount of cocoa powder in a brownie recipe was maybe not his best idea to date. 

But now, at 20 years old he considered himself something of a professional in the kitchen. He'd come home to the small house he still shared with his uncle and immediately start. If there was already a pan of brownies, or half a batch of snickerdoodles left from a few days before he'd take them to Max and Susan across the road. Max seemed to appreciate them. And he'd start again. He'd bake something delicious for dessert and make whatever he could find for dinner. Neither he or his uncle were necessarily great cooks but Eddie could make a mean pot of hamburger helper. 

Some nights, Wayne would wake up early and the men would have dinner together. They'd take streaming plates of whatever Eddie made into the living room, plates set on their laps while they watched reruns of Bonanza or Gilligan's Island. But more often, Eddie would cook and eat alone in his bedroom while he did homework or messed around with whatever song he was working on that week. Either way, he'd always pack up the leftovers and dessert into the old blue playmate that served as Wayne's lunchbox for work. 

Everything Eddie did had a soundtrack. Driving, baking, planning campaigns, even just sitting at home. He always had music playing. He loved anything he could get his hands on, but his favorite was metal. Any genre of metal. Black metal, thrash metal, speed metal, stoner metal. He loved it all. And even if a band wasn't his favorite, he appreciated them. He was a music fan above all else. 

This particular weekend had been an exciting one for him. He'd managed to take out the entire party at the previous week's Hellfire campaign on Friday. Then yesterday, Sunday, he finally perfected his recipe for chocolate cupcakes. He was feeling on top of the world, always one to appreciate the little things in life. He packed up half a dozen of his cupcakes into a Tupperware container and set off towards downtown.

He parked outside of the RadioShack downtown. Today was finally the day that one of Eddie's favorite bands would be releasing their new album. Master of Puppets. Even if he didn't already love Metallica, he'd have been hooked by the album name. He was surprised that a big chain like RadioShack carried this kind of music, really. But he supposed that in capitalist America, a dollar was a dollar. And Metallica definitely made the stores that carried their music money. 

"Bob around?" He asked a bored looking middle aged man behind the counter as he walked into the store. The man barely acknowledged Eddie as he pointed his thumb towards the back of the store. Eddie nodded as he walked away, heading towards the bright red and white sign that read "Customer Service" at the back of the store. 

Bob Newby was, among other things, the general manager of the store. Eddie liked him the first day he came in after the store had opened. Most people looked at Eddie and saw trouble. Leather and tattoos would have that effect in a town like Hawkins. But not Bob. Bob greeted Eddie with a real Newby smile and a firm handshake. He learned Eddie's name and interests quickly, always paying attention when they spoke instead of waiting for him to do something terrible like most people in town seemed to do. 

"Mornin', Ed." Bob greeted as he got closer to the counter. 

"You got it?" Eddie asked. He came to a stop on the opposite side of the counter from Bob, the chain on his jeans hitting the front of it loudly as his fingers landed on the edge of the counter. 

"Yes," Bob chuckled, reaching behind him. "I have it." 

He handed the shrink wrapped cassette to Eddie. He thanked Bob with a giddy smile before turning back towards the bored man holding down the checkout counter. He admired the artwork of the cassette. The silver Metallica logo over rows and rows of white crosses. He flipped it over in his hands, excited eyes quickly scanning the tracklist on the back. He could hardly wait to get it into the tape deck in his van. 

Once he was comfortably in his van with the newest addition to his music collection playing on the radio, he set his sights on the Henderson house. Dustin Henderson had been a freshman Hellfire recruit when he met Eddie, and he'd never admit it to the others, but his favorite. He took a liking to the round faced kid immediately. He was already smarter than Eddie at barely 14 and had the quickest wit of anyone in Hawkins. 

Eddie passed a small cafe on his way. It was a warm, simple place owned by the parents of a kid Eddie had gone to high school with. Their pastries were nothing compared to Eddie's, but they made a great cup of coffee. He decided to stop in quickly and grab something to go. 

He removed the cassette from the tape deck, quickly placing it into his walkman. He decided to start side two of the cassette, placing it into the walkman upside down. He placed his headphones over his ears and pressed play as he swung open the door of his van. 

He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings as he walked up the sidewalk towards the cafe. His eyes focused on his shoes as he dug his hands deep into the pockets of his faded blue jeans, suddenly cognizant of the rips and frays across his knees as a chilled March breeze blew. 

The warmth inside the cafe was welcome as the door closed behind him. There was a bit of a line, which was to be expected at this time of morning. He took his place in line behind an older man and turned up the volume in his headphones. The line moved slowly as the tape played in his ears. It was good. Like, really fucking good. He always loved Metallica but this album was new levels. 

The fourth song started as the older man in front of him placed his order. He stopped the tape as he walked up to the counter, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. 

"Large black house blend," he ordered with a smile. "Please." He added quickly. The woman behind the counter told him his total with a grin. He paid, dropping his change into the tip jar beside the register while she poured his coffee. She placed a plastic lid on the cup and handed it to him over the counter. He placed his headphones back over his ears before taking the cup. 

He pressed play on his walkman as he walked through the cafe, through the front door and back into the chilly air outside. He walked down the sidewalk, past a few patio tables that were set up outside. Just as he was passing through the black metal fence that surrounded the tables when he heard it. 

Go against the grain until the end Blood will follow blood Dying time is here Damage incorporated

He stopped in his tracks. He swore he lost all feeling in his hands as he heard the words. He turned around, hair flying around his head as his eyes scanned his surroundings. 

As soon as his eyes met hers he suddenly didn't hear the guitars in his ears. The drums faded into background noise. The only thing he could see, the only person that existed in this moment was her. And she was beautiful beyond words. 

~~~~~

She stood from her seat, tugging down the hem of her shirt while she smiled at him. His own beaming grin was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking. A rosy blush bloomed across dimpled cheeks, his brown eyes like honey beneath the sun of early spring. Another chilly breeze blew around the two of them, kicking up fallen leaves into something of a miniature tornado between their feet. 

"Hi," he finally said, placing his headphones around his neck and taking a step closer to her. "I'm Eddie." 

She introduced herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did. Fuck, he thought to himself. Even her name is beautiful. She offered him a seat at her table. He happily accepted, taking clumsy steps towards the chair she had vaguely gestured to. 

"What are you listening to?" She asked as he set his walkman and headphones onto the table. 

"The new Metallica."

She was surprised, though she supposed that she shouldn't be. The hair alone should have given her some inclination that he'd be into that type of music. Paired with the rings, chains, and leather jacket he kind of seemed like a stereotype of a metalhead. 

Before she could stop herself she was reaching her hand towards his. She felt electricity under her fingertips as she delicately lifted his hand, turning his palm up. 

Blood will follow blood.

"Goodness," she giggled as she read the black ink on his wrist. Her fingers rested softly against his palm. His smile curled higher on his cheeks as he gripped her hand in his own, turning it so that he could see her wrist. 

Birds. 

He took a moment to listen as he looked at the simple word that decorated her perfect skin. Sure enough, he heard birds above him. He'd never noticed. He never paid much attention at all to the sounds of birds. But now, more than anything, he was thankful for their songs. 

"It's a finch," she told him. 

Her voice pulled him from his own thoughts. His eyes met hers and he was suddenly glad to be sitting. The way her eyes seemed to melt everything in him must have been what people meant when they told him he'd "just know." 

"A finch, huh?" He asked. "He's quite the musician." 

"She, actually." 

"You, uh, know a lot about bird calls?" 

She shrugged. "Got really into birds when I was in school. Thought maybe it would help, I guess." She glanced down to where their hands were still resting on the table. "This didn't really give me a lot to go on." 

"I know the feeling," he laughed. "This song just came out today. Spent twenty years trying to figure out what the hell mine even meant." He noticed her empty coffee cup and the muffin that you'd picked at sitting next to it. "Their muffins suck." 

"Not always!" She defended her choice with a playful smile. "This particular one is disappointing, though, I'll admit." 

He stood quickly, his chair fumbling across the pavement. He pulled his hand away from hers as he stepped away. "I'll be right back," he assured her. His pace was quick, very nearly a jog as he walked to the passenger seat of his van in the parking lot around the building. 

When he returned he carried with him a plastic bowl with a red lid. He set the bowl on the table between them as he took his seat. 

"Gotta try these," he told her as he removed the lid. Inside were the frosted chocolate cupcakes that he'd intended to take to Dustin. He selected one, gently lifting it between his thumb and pointer finger. "Promise this is better than that nasty muffin." 

She accepted the cupcake with a smile. When she peeled down the paper liner she could instantly tell that it was going to be delicious. Perfectly moist, soft where her fingers gripped the sides. Eddie licked residual frosting from his thumb as she took a bite. 

"Oh, Christ," she all but moaned over the mouthful of cake. "You're right. So much better."

Eddie smiled, proud of himself. "Told ya," he giggled as she took a second bite. "Just made them yesterday. Finally got the recipe just right." 

"You made these?" She asked, her eyes widening. 

"With love," he winked. 

"Oh, god I'm so glad you're my soulmate." 

He blushed again at her confession. Obviously, they both knew that the other was their soulmates. Tattoos don't lie. But hearing the word fall from her lips, the way her voice wrapped around the two syllables was musical. He wanted to hear her call him her soulmate a million more times. 

~~~~~

Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰 If you'd like to be tagged in my Stranger Things fics, please let me know. I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.

Tag List: @redwineanddnicotine @renaissan-vvitchh

Eddie Tag List: @littlemiss-yeehaw @protecteddiemunson4vr @tayhar8111

[elfboyeros]

Snooze

Read about the nerds and other nerds

“Amora, how are you feeling?” Cobalt asked, softly from his on the floor at the end of Amora’s bed.

“Cobalt, shut up,” Amora mumbled, “you’re too loud.”

“Really you bastard?” Loki sighed, tightening her hold on Amora’s waist, “You do realize you are the reason this shit happened, leave her alone.”

They lay up in her bed, Loki’s arms around Amora’s middle and Amora‘s face hidden in Loki’s chest attempting to block out even light and sound, “Do you need anything, love, water, a snack?”

“I just wanna sleep,” Amora muttered.

“Okay, love, I’ll keep quiet,” Loki replied.

“You don’t have to stay…”

“No, I’m staying,” Loki added. “It’s a holiday, anyway, so I would be staying in bed anyway, and here I get to lay here with you.”

Amora giggled lightly, “I could leave if you want me to.”

Amora wrapped her arms around Loki’s middle, “I’ll take that as a no,” Loki cooed.

“You’re the only person I want around me, right now,” Amora muttered as Loki brushed her pink strands out of her face, “I don’t think I could deal with this alone. I would probably just lose it.”

Loki hummed, “Good thing I’m here then, mhm?” Amora nodded, snuggling into Loki’s chest, “I wonder what everyone else is doing today…”

Amora let out a little laugh, “What?” Loki asked.

“It’s not like you to think about other people,” Amora remarked.

Loki scoffed smiling, brushing her fingers through Amroa’s golden locks, “Maybe I’m changing.”

“Please don’t change.”

“Even for the better?”

“I like you the way you are,” Amora admitted.

Loki’s face instantly became hot before she buried her bright red face in Amora’s hair, “…Noted…”

On Hall Magnus currant colored sneakered stomped across the hardwood floor, marching to her room, Cassiopeia wasn’t angry per se she was just upset.

“It’s always Calliope missing practice,” she scoffed to herself before entering their shared room, “Calliope! What the hell!”

The blonde girl in a cyan sweater dress jumped as she sat with her double bass, “Why were you not at practice!?” Cassiopeia complained dropping her duffle bag full of her cheer stuff forcefully on to the floor.

“I didn’t feel good,” Calliope answered cowardly.

“But you feel well enough to play your bass?”

Calliope let out an anxious squeak as Cassiopeia sat down at the end of her bed, “Cal, be honest with me,” the blonde cheerleader in red workout clothes said softly, “do you like being on the cheer team?”

There were a few moments of silence as the twins stared at one another, “No,” Calliope sheepishly responded, “I hate it, actually… I’ve hated it the whole time.”

“Seriously?! Calliope, why didn’t you tell me?!”

Calliope put her hands up in defense of herself, “Cas, talking to you is hard, especially when you’re mad, which is like all the time. I feel like I can’t talk to you about how I feel most of the time. Plus, you love cheer, you love the cheer team, I didn’t want to tell you I hated it and not only make you mad but I didn’t want to destroy your vision of the cheer team since you created it with Ms. Thornton.”

“Calliope—”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s our last year and I should tough it out, but I can’t do it anymore,” Calliope added, “I wanna hang with my friends, play my double bass, and not have to worry about if the other girls on the team are going to make fun of the way my body looks when we are changing.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassiopeia sighed, dejectedly, “I thought you wanted to cheer.”

“I mean when you came to me first and went on and on about it,” Calliope let out a little laugh, “It sounded amazing, but now it’s not fun anymore.”

“I’ll tell Euphrasie, and we can gather all your cheer stuff, you don’t have to do it anymore,” Cassiopeia replied, getting up and stretching.

“You're not mad?” Calliope asked.

“I’m not happy about it,” Cassiopeia said truthfully, “But I’m not going to force you to continue to be a cheerleader if you don’t want to.”

Calliope smiled at her sister before Cassiopeia added, “I mean it's better for you to quit now instead of not coming to practice for the rest of the year.”

Calliope laughed awkwardly as Cassiopeia headed for the door, “Where are you going?” Calliope asked.

“I think… I’ll go for a run or something, maybe I’ll go shopping,” Cassiopeia answered before leaving their room, taking Calliope’s cheer bag with her.

Leaving Hall Magnus and the dorms, spotting Euphrasie with their sports bag on their shoulder, practice clothes clinging to their bodies, and speaking to one of their tennis teammates in the academy courtyard.

“Hey, Euphrasie!” Cassiopeia called, grabbing their attention.

“I’ll meet you there, Auretta,” Euphrasie muttered before turning to Cassiopeia looking at the blonde cheerleader with a large smile, “Hi Cassiopeia, what do you need?”

“Calliope has finally quit the cheer team.”

“Oh, dang,” Euphrasie sighed, “It’s for the best though, she hasn’t been enjoying it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cassiopeia remarked rolling her eyes, “Anyway, can you drop off Calliope’s cheer bag to Ms. Thornton?”

“I can, but I have tennis practice, so I’ll do it later,” Euphrasie answered, their hand out to receive the duffle bag on Cassiopeia's shoulders.

Cassiopeia sighed, “Is Ms. Thornton still on campus?”

Euphrasie shrugged, “I think so, I don’t kn—” they answered before Cassiopeia began to run off, “Hey where are you going?!”

“To see if Ms. Thornton is here!” Cassiopeia called back, “HAVE FUN AT TENNIS PRACTICE! TELL AURETTA I LIKED HER SNEAKERS!”

Cassiopeia raced herself up to Lilybeth’s classroom, finding her there at her desk going through some papers. At the same time, Mrs. Danielson stood in front of a desk, oddly enough smiling,  while having an “intense” conversation with a man, covered in tattoos, that Cassiopeia didn’t recognize sitting on top of the desk.

“Ms. Thornton…”

“Cassiopeia,” Lilybeth remarked, looking up at her classroom door, “What do you need?”

“Hello, Ms. Ivory,” Helvetica remarked.

“Hi,” Cassiopeia muttered giving the Literature teacher a shy wave, “Ms. Thorton here is Calliope’s cheer bag.”

“Oh?” Lilybeth questioned as Cassiopeia and over the duffle bag, “Did she quit?”

“Yeah,” Cassiopeia sighed, pouting.

“Oh, chickadee, it will be fine,” Lilybeth commented. “You still have all the others; it won’t affect anything. Don’t look so down.”

“I just… feel horrible, I forced Calliope to do something she never wanted to do for so long, and she couldn’t talk to me, and I feel like Calliope hates like ever—”

Lilybeth placed a hand on Cassiopeia's shoulder, sympathetically saying, “Cassiopeia, chickie, Calliope doesn’t hate you. She probably just wanted to see you happy because Cheer made you happy. Calliope is your sister, and she loves you. I doubt she could ever hate you.”

0Cassiopeia smiled slightly, “Thank you, Ms. Thornton.”

“Bethie, you coming?” That unfamiliar man called, leading Helvetica out of Lilybeth's classroom.

“Yeah, Ambrose,” Lilybeth remarked, grabbing her purse, “You okay Cassiopeia?”

Cassiopeia nodded following Lilybeth out of her classroom, “Have a nice rest of your day off, Cassie,” Lilybeth commented, following after her two friends leaving the young cheerleader still dejected in the hallway.

As she headed for the schoolhouse’s door, the romantic pings of her cell phone pulled her attention. Message notifications littered the notification bar on her lock screen, all from Roux.

Roux ⚽: I’m almost done at my mom’s

If you’re not busy maybe we could meet at Vixen’s and spend the afternoon in town

Make a little date out of it

Cassiopeia thought for a moment before responding: Sure.

Taking a ride into town, stopping in the little café that was a staple in Solostica. With its large modern windows and light sage building at the corner of a small intersection. Cream walls cover the interior, with a classic coffee shop vibe with an added botanical touch given the many potted plants all over the place and a large bush of different flowers over the bar. Cassiopeia plopped herself next to a table in a far corner of the shop next to a window, beginning to people-watch rather than get in the sizable line at the busy bar.

Odysseus and Lance sat at a nearby table across from Cassiopeia. It was obvious they had been there for a while. From what little Cassiopeia knew about the two boys they often played Dungeons and Dragons with their friends at the Vixen Café, maybe that’s what they were talking about on their little coffee date.

She spotted Iphigenie at the bar, in her work apron with her hair pulled back as she placed pastries in the dessert case. Iphigenie’s hair was tied up as neatly as it could be given its thickness and curls, so beautiful and graceful as she worked in the chaos of being a barista.

Cassiopeia shook her head choosing to look out the window for what felt like hours rather than stare at Iphigenie anymore. Instead of storming out of her dorm room, she should have grabbed her journal or even her purse, instead of only having her phone to play with, the people around her to observe, and a window to look out of.

“Here you go.”

Cassiopeia jumped at the sound of Iphigenie’s voice next to her, snapping her out of her daydreaming as she stared out the window. A drink now sat on her table, leaving her to look up at the ginger girl confused.

“I didn’t—”

“Odysseus paid for it,” Iphigenie commented, pointing back at the boy in the mask who gave the blonde cheerleader a wave, before turning back to Lance engaging in conversation with him, “It's a Mango frappe, you’ve ordered it before.”

“Thanks,” Cassiopeia muttered, her cheeks flushed.

“Enjoy,” Iphigenie remarked before beginning to walk away.

“Iphigenie!” Cassiopeia called, making the barista pause and turning back, “Can we talk for a quick second?”

Iphigenie shrugged, “I’ve already clocked out, why not,” she mentioned before sitting across from Cassiopeia, “What are we talking about?”

“Do you remember when we were kids?”

Iphigenie cracked a slight smile before nodding, “You, Calliope, and I would play all the time. Dad said we were the 3 musketeers.”

“Do you ever miss that time?”

“Being a kid and not having problems, yeah. That time of my life no,” Iphigenie answered, watching Cassiopeia frown at her response, “Cassiopeia, my parents going through a divorce.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Cassiopeia sighed.

“Why are you apologizing?” Iphigenie asked, letting out a little laugh and making Cassiopeia become hot.

“Do you remember why we stopped being friends?” the blonde girl innocently asked.

“Well I moved to Switzerland,” Iphigiene shrugged before thinking for a moment, “I thought you were mad that I moved, we just stopped talking, I took that as a sign that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“No!” Cassiopeia chirped, “I-I-I just was a stupid kid! I would write you letters… I guess momma and papa never sent them, so when you stopped sending yours…”

“Classic,” Iphigiene chuckled. “When I came back last year I was shocked to see you and Roux together, I never thought you liked him.”

“I don’t think… I do,” Cassiopeia mumbled.

“Then why are you with him?”

Cassiopeia stared off into space for a moment. She’d been with Roux since starting at Hallows Academy after knowing him her entire childhood, but she never felt as if she loved him. As if it was an obligation to be his girlfriend after so long. She enjoyed his company and his kindness; however, days continued to pass, and Cassiopeia’s feelings for Roux hadn’t changed.

“Cas, you okay?”

“I need to break up with Roux,” she muttered.

Iphigenie blinked, “You came to that conclusion rather quickly.”

“I mean what am I supposed to do?” Cassiopeia remarked, “I don’t like him enough to be in a relationship with him, right?”

Iphigenie hummed in agreement, “Genie, would you want to go out sometime?” Cassiopeia asked with rosy cheeks. “Hang out like when we were kids,” she added.

“Hang out like we were kids? So play with dolls and annoy your older sister,” Iphigenie joked.

“I was thinking more like going to see a movie or just talking,” Cassiopeia giggled.

“Would be nice,” Iphigenie remarked.

“Iphigenie, I’m sorry I’m late!” Luther’s deep voice bellowed, “Loki wanted me to get some stuff for Amora—”

“Is she okay?” Iphigenie asked.

Luther shrugged, “Loki isn’t really saying.”

“Something is wrong with Amora?” Cassiopeia asked, rather compassionately.

“She fainted yesterday,” Iphigenie answered.

“I think she’s just dehydrated,” Luther muttered.

 Iphigenie got up, ready to leave with Luther, “We’ll stop by Loki’s room, then go to study hall, yeah?” he asked her.

“That’s fine with me.”

“Genie?”

“Yeah, Cas?” Iphigenie asked, looking at the cheerleader sincerely.

Cassiopeia paused with her cheeks all flushed, “Do you want to…” Cassiopeia trailed off

He could feel an energy between Iphigenie and Luther. It is so obvious just looking at Luther’s gaze, a guy who has always been known for a stern gaze behind a pair of circular glasses and fought with Roux on many occasions yet looks at Iphigenie, the most melancholic girl alive, with such soft eyes.

“… Never mind,” Cassiopeia awkwardly chuckled, “I hope we can be friends again.”

“Me too, Cas,” Iphigenie remarked with a smile, “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya,” Cassiopeia muttered, as Luther and Iphigenie headed for the door.

“Is it a good idea for you to become friends with Cassiopeia?” Luther asked opening the door to the café inadvertently letting Roux in.

“Oh come,” Iphigenie commented, “Cassiopeia is fine. She’s sweet.”

“Hey baby,” Roux cooed, kissing Cassiopeia’s cheek before sitting across from her, “I thought we could go to the shop on Elizabeth Street and—”

“Roux… We need to talk!”

“About what, baby?”

“I think…” Cassiopeia began rubbing her hands on top of her thighs, while also trying to make herself smaller. “I think we should break up.”

“What did I do wrong?” Roux asked.

She put her hands up, waving them in an X motion, “It’s not you!”

“Then why—”

“I don’t think I… love you.”

Roux blinked, before simply getting up and leaving. Cassiopeia was left wide-eyed and frozen before chasing after him, “Roux, stop!”

“3 YES, CASSIOPEIA! WE’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 3 YEARS!” Roux yelled, continuing to walk away from her.

“I’M SORRY,” She shouted back at him.

He turned around swiftly looking at her dead on, a mix of rage and sadness in his eyes, “YOU LIED TO ME FOR 3 YEARS! CASSIOPEIA I’VE LOVED FOR AGES AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS SORRY?!”

“ROUX I NEVER—”

“WHAT?!” He screamed, “YOU NEVER LOVED ME?! THAT MUCH IS OBVIOUS! THE GOO-GOO EYES YOU MAKE AT IPHIGENIE ARE EVERY OBVIOUS, I’M SURPRISED YOU DON’T MAKE LUTHER JEALOUS!”

Cassiopeia kept her mouth shut before Roux laughed wickedly, “At first I thought it was just because you felt bad for her or something because she was weird and barely had any friends when she got back. Then I was every time you saw her! It’s so fucking obvious you have a fucking crush on her and I OVERLOOKED THAT BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!”

“Roux, I’m sorry!”

“That’s all your going to fucking say?!”

Cassiopeia nodded sheepishly before Roux clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and headed for the train station. Stomping his way back to the dorms, Calliope and Solomon were sitting on the porch steps chatting.

“Get out of my way!” Roux snarled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah sure man,” Solomon muttered, wrapping a protective arm around Calliope’s shoulder to pull her closer to him out of Roux’s way.

“Are you okay, Roux?” Calliope innocently asked.

“Don’t fucking talk to me!”

Calliope hung her head a bit, “What the hell, Roux!” Solomon exclaimed, standing up as Roux reached the top of the stairs, “She was just asking if you were all right, no need to be a dick!”

“I don’t give a shit!” Roux spat descending the stairs again just to get in Solomon’s face, “Both her and Cassiopeia are ugly little leeches!”

“Motherfucker, Cassiopeia’s your girlfriend—”

“NOT ANYMORE! THAT DUMB BITCH BROKE—”

Before Roux could finish his sentence Solomon punched him square in the face, making the Football captain stumble back a bit, “I let you get away with a lot,” Solomon lamented with dark eyes, “But you’re just an asshole that expects things to go his way! Cassiopeia never fucking loved you she barely even liked you that was obvious to everyone with a brain! We were with you because you made being in a relationship with her seem like something she needed to do because you are the captain of the Football team and she’s a cheerleader! Completely overlooked two people that have any sort of feeling for you, you dickhead!”

Roux huffed, picking himself out of the dirt as Solomon helped Calliope up and off the stairs and went inside while the sun was setting. The Football player stared at the darkening clouds for a long time, while sitting on the sits of the dormitory porch truly wondering when he first became such an asshole.

Meanwhile, up on Hall Osmanthus Loki sat on her own bed waiting for Amora to get out of the bathroom, replying to the many messages from Lance, Luther, and Odysseus all asking how Amora was doing.

The American girl came out of the bathroom with a towel in hand. She slowly piddled her to her bed, “Cobalt,” Amora muttered to the ghostly man sitting at her desk chair, “I feel better than I did this morning.”

“Good to hear, Chickadee,” He commented. “Tomorrow with enough rest you’ll be right as rain.”

“Thank you for worrying,” Amora noted.

“Of course,” Cobalt said with a nod.

“My brothers are worried about you,” Loki chuckled, shaking her phone in her hand before tossing it on her bed.

Amora smiled, “Tell Luther I said thank you for all the goodies.”

“You should really be thinking of me, I asked him to go get the stuff,” Loki replied, making Amora giggle.

As everything settled for the night and everyone but the few night owls in Solostica were down for the night, a sickly-looking disheveled man covered in filth and grim, wearing clothes far too big for him, and chains wrapped around his ankles and wrist hobbled his way through the quiet streets, taking him a few hours to stumbled his way to Hallows Academy all but collapsing at the front door before screaming:

“GREYSON!”

[hiperacid2]

Baby, wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine⭒──⚝

⚝ dottore x oc / reader if you can ignore my OCs physical description

⚝ pre-relationship, mostly some kind of fluff, angst if you squint at the end, written for valentines 2023, some descriptions of blood and violence but nothing too graphic. posted on ao3 too! wc: 2.2k aprox

Valentines day is known as the day where love is in the air, where everyone also celebrates their Archons love, even if it's frozen forever.

However, in the castle this is like any other day, everyone works just as much as yesterday and tomorrow, some people gift each other chocolates, yes, but the work never stops, the only person who celebrates this holiday fully is Her Majesty's daughter, gifting her unusual little family of harbingers some of the finest chocolates in all the land, some of them even imported from all over Teyvat. Theres a singular person who receives special treatment apart from Tsaritsa, and it's the one who absolutely despises these "holidays", and spends it holed up in the labs, Dottore.

It's not that he hates it per se, it's the fact that he was almost never included sincerely, he had received chocolates during his akademiya days but it was all people that whenever they got to meet the reality disappeared from his life or started to alienate him.

He really didn't expect the turn that day took, well, he should have since he knew from what the segments experienced, some day the girl was going to do a bold move, he just wasn't expecting her to do it so soon.

Vera hummed a Snezhnayan lullaby as she walked from her office to the harbingers ones, handing in little baskets with chocolate arrangements, varying from extra sweet, white and pink ones for her dear auntie Columbina, to dark concentrated bitter for the Balladeer who almost looked at her like she was pulling a prank, until she flipped one of the tags and he saw it was bitter and not sweet. Pantalone received exotic fruits from all over Teyvat covered in chocolate, ideal for his teas, and in exchange the man shot her a suspicious glare as if the were poisoned. Sandrone didnt like chocolates so she arranged a bouquet of mondstatian flowers, Pulcinella never accepted her gifts, and Capitano rejected only the chocolates, so she resorted to gift him weaponry she caught whenever she is raiding big fishes or finds them in her victims. This year Arlecchino was in the orphanage managing things so she sent her gifts there with all sorts of new knives and snacks. She avoided Pierro like the plague, either way the man didnt want her gifts, and she didnt think he really deserves any.

The only basket left in her office was a slightly bigger one than the rest, full of Sumerian snacks, ruin drake cores, and all sorts of poisonous plants carefully sorted in little jars, labeled in Vera's penmanship. This year she was going to make her advances towards the resident madman, the challenge would be finding Prime, and avoiding the segments with their questions or teasing, hardly happens but its a possibility. 

Picking up the basket, she exited her office and started her way towards the basement labs thinking about his reaction, usually she gave her gifts to the first segment she came across, to be delivered to Prime, so this was going to be a completely new experience.

The jars clinking were the only sound heard in the deserted corridors, almost no one frequented this place for fear of catching the man in a bad mood and ending as a lab rat, so she was sure he was already aware of someone coming, the imposing metal doors at the end growing in size. It was a good thing she wasn't really nervous, just curious, as she stopped in front of them and raised a hand to knock on it. Knock knock. Silence engulfed the space, no sound coming from behind the doors. Vera knocked once again and still no response. Opening the heavy door, the space was littered with half finished weapons, there was a corpse laying in a bed impossible to miss for her even with a large cloth over it, and a lot of things she had never seen. There was a wooden door in a corner, probably his office, once again the jars clinked as she walked and shifted the basket in her hands. Looking around, carefully dodging papers and machinery pieces on the floor, she made her way towards the door, and knocked twice firmly, suddenly, nervousness overtook her, but it was too late for backing down, so she waited, until a muffled voice said "Come in".

Breathing in, she pushed the door open, and gently closed it once inside the room. "Good afternoon Doctor." she paused, looking at the man who was still reading some papers "I wanted to give you your Valentines gift, if you are so kind as to accept it. ". The man now was looking at her, she didn't see his eyes, but felt his gaze trying to pin her in her place. "My, this year I'm graced by the Innamorati herself in the flesh", standing up, and circling the desk covered in strewn papers. "I'm not here as Innamorati, but as Vera." she looked at the basket in her hands. 

"And what is Vera doing this year here in my office?" He paused, still analyzing the woman, trying to make her crack and show fear to no avail, her strawberry colored hair shining pale in the artificial lights, "Usually some segment comes around with a basket of snacks, why the change of heart, sweetie?" he sat on the surface of the desk, letting out a sardonic laugh "don't tell me that some segment treated you badly, Tsaritas precious gem".

"No, Dottore, no segment treated me badly", she raised her eyebrow, annoyed, "Cant I bring you personally a gift now?". Now this was interesting, if he was going to play it like this, she was going to go lower. The little important detail is that she couldn't play like she wanted to in unknown territory, and damage was done letting her annoyance show, she just couldnt slip back into sweetheart without the Second taking note of it. "Either way I thought a little walk hurts nobody", she looked around, "unless I'm interrupting your important work" gripping the handle, she started to bounce on her feet lightly. "I hope this basket is to your liking, there's some… things in there, see it for yourself", she walked towards the desk, and put it over a pile of papers, balancing precariously. He was still looking at her, silent, no trace of emotion about the gift anywhere, until suddenly, he smiled, all pointed tooth on display,  this was the closest Vera got to him in her whole life, and she already wanted to feel his blood on her hands, caress his organs and taste just a drop of his blood. Her eyes darkened, and the usual bloodlust that surrounded her started to make itself known, but he had no opportunity to catch this as she immediately closed her eyes and turned her head to look at him, "I really hope you accept this gift, I would hate for the belladona i carefully collected to go to waste," a pause, letting him butt in if he wanted to, but cutting him, "Unless I can offer you to be myself the belladonna, specifically yours, don't you like to play with toys, Doctor?" a manicured hand came up swiftly, like dancing, to rest over where his heart should be. "I sure like to play myself with some hearts, literally speaking" She then traced the point of the birdlike mask, "after all I only have eyes for one person" carefully measured words were all she had in mind, thats what working closely with pantalone gifts you.

Dottore let her get closer, it was entrancing how the innocent look she had was betrayed by the sudden hunger in the acidic green pools, made him wonder how far he could drag it out, the innocent devotee with bloodlust. Naturally he knew about Vera having interest in him, Pantalone never shut up about it, how the snake's eyes followed him every time they were all reunited in the throne room, or they crossed paths in his office. But true to his nature, he was going to come out with the lower hand, if she was stooping to his level, might as well go lower and send the little cute snake back into the bushes. He was still smiling maniacally, and when her finger reached the point of the mask, he pushed against her finger, half raising it, letting a piercing red eye look at her directly, “Oh? Do you?” Something dangerous twinkled in that gaze, his only visible eye narrowing “Do I know them? Him? Her?” he lightly pushed off her hand, but didnt let it go, his other hand coming to fix the mask over his face once again, as if she hadn't just seen for the first time in her life Prime Dottores face. “Maybe your uncles need to know about them, after all, you’re the princess of the land”, he looks at the basket, “Should you really be gifting these things to me and not your beloved?”. 

Oh, so that was the game he wanted to play, “I don't know, do you?” Her free hand touched her chin in a pensive gesture, now that she knew the general place in which his eyes were, she was looking straight at him. “As for the gifts, I would be really sad if the things my assistant brought aaaalllll the way from Sumeru and went through all the trouble that is avoiding the forest rangers nagging went bad” Her hand brought up a vial full of kalpalata lotus petals between them, placing them back in the basket, and then taking out some chaos bolts, making them spin in a bubble made with her vision, "I can always give these parts to Sandrone to put them on Katya, and I'm sure 'Bina will always welcome the snacks from me" the bubble popped and the bolt fell on her hand, to be placed back in the basket, looking back at his eyes "Would you really make the Princess upset?" Her eyes turned glassy, but the void was always present, not even the fake moisture could give those orbs some shine, "What would Pierro say about it?" His lips twitched, he was about to crack and she will drink his reaction like the most expensive firewater in existence, all of it, to be remembered forever. She raised her hand to her forehead and put the final nail in the coffin, grabbing the wrist of his hand that still held her arm "Oh! Poor Vera! Dottore rejected the gift she made with all her heart and now she's sad and miserable, that good girl does not deserve that kind of harsh treatment!".

In a blink she was in previously Dottores place against the desk, his hand on her jaw, pressing her cheeks, the cold leather from his free hand contrasting with the warm one still holding her arm, and now it was her turn to grin mischievously, her next movements were slow, after all she was in a big disadvantage, and wasn't free from punishment if the Second saw it fit, even if it was to spite her. She raised her hand in surrender, but he was still holding her in her place, his anger filling the air with tension, "Okay, I get it, no Pierro then, I don't even like the man either way" her hand coming to disarm her vision at her hip, to enhance the point of no harm, she knew parting with her vision like that was dangerous, but she trusted him in a sick way of knowing he would not risk harm to her on behalf of her Mother. Vera risked losing her hand literally and once again put it over his heart, "I know you know, I'm sure Pantyman got a kick of getting on your nerves by telling my business, two birds one shot" she rolled her eyes, "As I said when I first came, I just wanted to bring the gift myself this year instead of sending it through Omega who frequents the corridors of the offices doing all your socials" his hand relents and releases her, "give the man a break and go take some sun yourself, old man", she takes back her hand and pushes herself away from the desk  "maybe I want to sneak a glance without having to pester the resident mora snake when I catch wind of you being outside the basement".

Clipping back her vision to her belt, looking at the man that now towers over her; she fixes his mask that was crooked from the fast movement, and carefully fixes a stray strand of hair. Without saying anything else, Vera exits the office and makes her way to the corridors, leaving behind a very confused Dottore.

reblogs are appreciated!!

a/n: if you have any questions about Vera, ask away! I'm happy to talk about my baby, my golden child with bloodied hands.

do not repost or translate. this work belongs to hiperacid2

[moonlithunter-writes]

Window & Instance - Pharah x f!Reader

   You didn’t hate your job, per se, there was just nothing you really liked about it. It was a boring corporate job where you worked in an office from 9 to 5 attending meetings, sending emails, and doing paperwork until you were exhausted. You had to wear makeup and blouses and tight skirts and heels that were so high you were afraid of rolling your ankle—but that was the corporate life.    You were in the middle of sending an email when an explosion sounded outside of the window. You cursed and your finger slipped from the keyboard, causing you to accidentally send the email prematurely. You groaned and swiveled around in your office chair, glaring out the window.    It was a military holiday today, and all day long soldiers had been firing guns and flying jets overhead in celebration—normally it wasn’t an issue working on the 67th floor of a skyscraper, but the roar of the planes and the bursts of fireworks were much louder from up there. And to make matters worse, you lived near the base and had been woken up at 5 am when the celebrations began.    You had turned back around and were already typing out an apology email when a huge shadow crossed your computer screen. That was strange, you thought, turning back to the window. There weren’t many things to make a shadow like that in the middle of a city at nearly a thousand feet in the air.    You watched for another moment, and then gasped in surprise as a robot flew past the window. No, not a robot, you realized after a beat. It was a suit of armor with some sort of self-propulsion unit attached to its back. When the armor-wearer turned to the side, you caught a glimpse of tan skin, plush lips, and a bright smile.    As if she could sense you looking, the flier turned in your direction and rocketed up higher into the sky, leaving a trail of smoke behind. You stood up out of your desk chair and went to the window, craning your neck for a glimpse of the woman.    Without warning, she zoomed back down, close enough to the building to make you jump back in surprise. Your eyes followed the flier all the way down as she pulled up out of her dive and returned to the 67th floor.     The flier hovered outside your window, openly grinning now, and your heart was pounding both from watching the woman’s incredible stunts, and from the way she was looking at you. As you watched, the woman reached out a gloved hand and began writing something in the dirt on the windowpane.    When she was done, she flew backward, nodded once, and took off into the sky once more. You watched her go, mystified, until she was out of sight—probably back off to the military base. It was a moment before you processed what had happened, but as soon as you did, you took a sticky note off of your desk and copied down what the woman had written on the glass—a ten-digit phone number, and the name Fareeha.

[writernopal]

💌🦸‍♀️🍁 for Wilkes and/or Fay? :)

Skylar, thanks for the ask! I'll do these for both Fay and Wilkes because I don't get very many asks about those two!

💌 - How would they react to a love letter?

Fay: Wouldn't even read it. She'd just throw it out and move on. She'd probably assume the person was trying to suck up to her, and she hates that.

Wilkes: He'd probably write back and try to find out more about the person, but not because he'd be interested in them per se, more so that he could see if they are a valuable connection to have. He's absolutely the type to string someone along to get something out of them.

🦸‍♀️ - What would they dress as for Halloween?

Fay: My gut reaction would be that she wouldn't be into Halloween, but now that I'm thinking about it, she would absolutely love the trick aspect of the holiday haha. But it's too on the nose to say she'd dress up as a pirate or a witch because she's both of those things already. I think she'd like to dress up as a vampire and pretend to bite people to steal their money LOL.

Wilkes: He would only dress up because Fay is dressing up, and he'd probably go as a vampire too. He's albino, so he has the pale skin and red eyes to complete the look, not to mention he's a pretty spiffy dresser too. He and Fay would certainly be a sight!

🍁 - Their favourite season and why?

Fay: Summer, the hot and humid kind. She loves the tropics and hates the cold, so a stifling summer heat is ideal for her!

Wilkes: Fall. He likes watching the leaves change color, and the season is particularly special to him because it was during that season when his parents adopted him. 🥺

From this ask game.

[perfectlullabies]

what face mold should replace millie? or in general what changes would you make to the basic barbies

the thing is i don't hate millie per se. i think she's cute and i especially love the mold on different collectible dolls such as holiday barbies or birthday wishes barbies but they put that Basic version of her on dolls way too often and it's just lacking creativity and quality. i like when they apply more make up on her, i like when they slightly modify the features etc but it's time for her to Go anyway, it's been 10 years. i just wish barbies were more versatile, just make the basic dolls a little different from one another it's all i'm asking for.... also i'd love the rubbery clicky legs to make a comeback bc i'm fed up with the plastic ones

[harrison-abbott]

Personal Experience [From Italia].

So, I just got back from Milan, where I stayed for a full week. Had a fantastic time. And would encourage anybody to go and visit.

 There was one thing that happened whilst I was there, that I wanted to write about. It happened via my literary Tumblr blog – through the messaging system on there. Here’s what occurred:

 I had been out and about in the town and had really enjoyed it. And when I got back to my hostel I wrote some stuff on my blog; a fairly simple post about how I loved the vibrant zeal of Europe. And whenever I return to the Bloc, I always think that it was just so stupid that the UK left it. That Brexit was such a naïve disaster. I mentioned that I was Scottish in the post; and also said that I wasn’t overtly nationalistic as a Scotsman or Briton: only that I admired the rich energy of Europe and hoped the United Kingdom would reconnect with the Bloc in the future.

 A few hours later I saw I had some messages. From this other person, who had no profile photo, and was only called ‘Anonymous’. He’d sent me like fifteen messages. (I actually don’t know if the person was even male, but I’m guessing it was a man.)

 The 15 messages were snippets of this most hideous garble. He opened by saying, “Go back to the United Kingdom you Scottish bastard! And stay there! Don’t bring Milan into your political views.” And then he was calling me a “kilt-wearing, tartan, alcoholic Scot. Get some experience, you drunk arsehole!” Alongside saying that Europe belonged to the “Nazis in Germany; and that Europe was controlled by them”.

 I don’t remember the exact lines, but, man: it was just staggeringly offensive. [And also shit writing. Lols.]

 Anyway. I was really surprised and it was a bit upsetting. Because I’ve never in my 30 years experienced any racist abuse for being Scottish. ^ And as I mentioned above, I originally said in the post that I wasn’t a nationalist, per se. I still love Scotland, but, umm, when I’m writing stories, novels, poems, essays, personal writing, I’m not usually wearing a kilt.

 I called up my friend Henry after I’d gotten the hate mail. He was helpful about it and said he’d had similar experiences across his life. Henry is Scottish too. But he has an English accent (because his parents are English), and just because that’s how he talks. He said he got a lot of shit for being English in school, and … he’s from Scotland. That actually sounded way worse than my experience in this case.

 The incident didn’t ruin my holiday by any means. I was hurt for a few hours and I posted on Tumblr again about what’d happened, and received this array of supportive messages from folks that follow me. Which cheered me up a bit.

 I suppose I couldn’t understand why somebody would attack me for being Scottish. It sounded like this man, whoever he was, was basing his knowledge of Scots on the Simpsons character Groundskeeper Willie. This cartoon character is not offensive – because it’s a joke. It’s the Simpson’s writers making fun of the stereotype and is not meant to be taken seriously, and that’s what I thought about it when I grew up watching this beloved sitcom.

 I’ve worked with many people from other nations across my life. And I’m often interested in their language: I try to learn their words for English words, just out of a curiosity in linguistics. And I ask them questions about what it’s like in their country.

 Moreover, when I went to university, I had loads of friends who were non-UK, and they’re still my mates. From Germany, Singapore, Czechia, Bulgaria, Cyprus, Ireland, Polska, America – all sorts of places. I just liked them and got on with them. And they helped me out if I had problems, and me them.

 (Just for the record: I am notoriously clumsy when it comes to trying to speak other languages. Or just plain bad, rather. For instance, there was a time when I was at a wedding in Poland. And was introduced to this woman. And I held out my hand to her and said, “Dziękuję!”, which means “Thank you.” She just blinked. It could’ve been worse: she could have laughed. And it was super embarrassing, but ultimately only funny.)

 Hmm. In a tiny way I can now understand why people get so offended over racism. Of course, my thing was only small in terms of the horrors that other folks suffer across the globe.

 Going back to the England thing again: my father is English, so I always found that anti-England stuff insulting as well. I love England too and many people who have influenced me were from there (William Shakespeare, John Lennon, Virginia Woolf, Charles Dickens, George Orwell, Pete Townshend, William Wordsworth, Graeme Greene … Paul Scholes. There are many). The whole point is that I adore the creative minds from England.

 There was this other occasion – just as final example – where one of my mates was coy about ‘coming out’ to me as being gay. And he finally told me, shyly, after a few months. Then asked me what I thought about it. I said, “I don’t care.” And he just laughed because it was a refreshing answer.

 The main conclusion is that bigotry should be eradicated through knowledge. Having a wealth of knowledge is the most crucial thing. I hope education spreads across the world.

 I suppose I could’ve written this essay and posted it to that bigot who attacked me anonymously online.

 But I figured a quotation was more relevant for the mood I was in at the time. So I just wrote back to him:

 “I am the Walrus. Yoo goo coo choo.”

 And he hasn’t responded with anything since.

[brooklynislandgirl]

3. Describe your muse’s ideal holiday.

A Little Bit Of This and That || Accepting Beth is not sure in what sense Cory means the word, one of the things she actually hates about English. Or maybe her own understanding of it which is to say there's something lacking; not the wordage per se or poor quality of education but in the technicality. And it is especially bad when they're surrounded by a lack of context. The room is bright and shaded in pastels, the recliners large and padded. Turbans in their hair, fluffy bathrobes adorning them as they sit side by side with avocado and clay face-masks, while currently receiving matching pedicures. Thankfully, the much needed day of pampering gives Beth a chance to think about the question, break it down into its constituent parts, and reassemble into something comfortable in the space of drawn out seconds. "Well, Andy an' I always plan f' goin' on a world tour. Start in Hampsta-dam..." She pauses, eyes narrowing at the corners as she corrects herself. "...ah... Amb... Ams ...you know, da place where is da Hague, capital of Neddahlan'. He wan' visit certain...coffee shops, an' I wan stay see Van Gogh museum. From Dere, we cruise da Danube, or mebbe fly t' Moscow in time f's see da Bolshoi ballet. Den cut to Africa, cause we gonna hike up Moun' Kilimanjaro. Surf ovah New Zealan' way, whole bunch'a t'ings, I guess. Except he's not really up for it now, prefers to stay here or drive so it limit chances, ya know?"

Not a single word is spoken harshly, no ounce of condemnation lives between the things she says. If anything her eyes gleam brightly, she is the portrait of a woman who can see no wrong in one particular man no matter what he says or does or how he might accidentally crush fragile dreams when he isn't careful. He might be the only person to be able to claim that with any surety.

After a moment though, Beth grows softer and somewhat shyer; whenever asked about herself she becomes somewhat apologetic, her eyes lowering to her nails in lieu of coffee or wine. "More personally? Any time I can ge' away f' da sea. Even if it smoo'd like glass, impossible surf, jus' havin' her near's a comfort. Could sit on a deck, wrap in a blanket, starin' at da waves an' lissen t' her sing me her songs. Warmer times, her whisper...beckons. Tells me f' visit, t' be out in her arms an' she'll wash away every kine dat nevah feel right. Sea loves me sometimes as much as Andy does. Sometimes more. Sorta the same way I feel sometimes, lissen f' Eddie Vedder. Which I t'ink is why I love his music so much." She pauses a moment though it's almost not much of a difference. She isn't loud any more than she takes up space; she doesn't. "So yeah, somewhere... a beach house, where I can go out to waddah's edge or bring one of my boards or mebbe more dan one. Somewhere quiet an' far away from people. Might lissen f' Pearl Jam on repeat, with some basic food stores. I'd like f' catch up on readin' or knittin'. Spend time in da garden wi' rich soil benea'd my fingers an' toes. Somet'ing simple, harmless." ~*~ Beth honestly dreams of living a quiet and useful existence, where she does more good for the earth and particularly the sea than she wants the life she has. It isn't that she's got spoiled rich kid syndrome; it's more a reflection of her cultural identity, personal beliefs, and a desire to get away from the Admiral as best she can, and everything the man stands for. She'd dearly love to have enough space to take in strays, whether human children or animals. And her ideal 'vacation' are small slices of that life.

[batbluud]

I related so strongly to those tags about prayer tbh. I grew up in a nonreligious household and basically my only exposure to religion growing up was like. Westboro Baptist protestors and televangelists and the Pope and whoever in the news all saying that I was gonna go to hell. so I wouldn't say I have religious trauma per se but I never ever got to experience any positive side to the Church or to religion until I began learning more about other cultures as a young adult, listening to Jewish friends explain their beliefs, reading books about Buddhism and Shinto, and exploring more of the metaphysics side of philosophy in college. but even so I've never felt like I could really pray. sometimes I feel like maybe something bigger than myself is speaking to me, but I don't know whether it's God, some fragment of my own brain brought out by mental illness, or whether I just do edibles too often, so that's neither here nor there - I don't really Know the way so many people seem to do. I don't know what I believe in and I'm not sure whether I'll ever know or not. it's lonely sometimes so it's nice to know others have similar feelings. I want to understand so badly but I don't think I ever will.

yeah. sometimes i worry i yap too much in the tags on this website, but i'm really happy that my 6am ramblings resonated with you. my family was mostly secular, we celebrated christmas and easter and such but mostly just the commercial "easter bunny and santa" versions of those holidays. when i was growing up i had a friend who lived across the street from me that had born-again christian parents and i am 100% convinced those people were evil incarnate in human skin. my parents were abusive but they were nothing compared to the shitbags my friend had to live with. constantly spewing bile and hate in the name of their god and gave their "blood" kid (my friend was a stepchild) preferential treatment. i genuinely think that radicalized me from a very young age. eventually they banned her from seeing me when i came out as trans. word somehow got back to them that she was bi and they blamed me i guess.

i never really recovered from that until i met someone in the 6th grade. she was so kind to me despite everyone else shunning me (i had come out at a very young age, like, twelve or thirteen, and nobody really knew how to react at the time). her family were practicing sikhs (if i am remembering that correctly) and i constantly had to hear other people (mostly girls) at the time talk behind her back about her hair, the way she spoke, or the way she dressed. i grew up in a very upper middle class white area so lots of the people i went to school with were demons. she was an angel among them. she taught me how to write my name in arabic, some other basic words and she also showed me a sikh prayer. it was the first genuinely positive interaction with religion i ever had. i think of her often. she was wonderful. i longed for the type of bond she had not just with her family but with her faith. i knew i could never really have that kind of connection after everything i went through (if you pray to god for your mommy to come home after a bender in the middle of the night enough times, even your little child brain realizes at some point no one is answering). like, i could go to church and do the song and dance, but i know it's not going to do anything for me. and man sometimes i really wish it did.

[txxfiles]

hello?

I don't know what to write about this month! so I’m just going to stream of consciousness and see where we go. 

I was going to write about my holiday but I started a travel journal and did like 2 days and then was so exhausted every night that I didn’t do it! It was an amazing holiday tho, like once in a lifetime sorta shit. it was a bit hit and miss if we would even go but we did and it was wonderful and I appreciated having so much time with my brother as I miss him. It was so full on tho like it was a group tour thing and it was like go go go and we walked 20 thousand steps one day bc my brother and I were like ‘Yeah sure we’ll climb that mountain with u no stress’ and then basically got lapped by the American women over 60 who came with us lmao. I was so careful as well with putting on suncream and shit and I STILL got burnt!!! the curse of being so fair burdens me every day. I am mostly nicely tanned and the redness has gone down so we chill but it’s so funny bc everyone else in my family is so nicely tanned and then there's a tomato girl walking around with them. my freckles have come back tho so that's nice. 

it gave me a lot of time with my thoughts tho, which I hate. Also being forced to spend that much time with my parents is always interesting. the other people in our group were telling them how good of a job they did raising myself and my brother which always makes me feel weird. I don’t think the good parts of my personality have come from my parents, I often value all the bad things about it to them which may seem harsh but my instinctual politeness and willingness to help wasnt fostered by them teaching it to me, it came from fear of getting yelled at if i wasn't this way and getting in trouble for doing anything other than cutting myself in half to do what was asked of me. I hate the person I become when I spend so much time with them as well like I become so angry and snappy and my tolerance for shit just plummets and I come home and it’s like a wave of relief because I feel so much calmer instantly. And then the next minute I feel awful for not seeing them very often and like guilty for having my own life and actually enjoying not seeing them very often. My mother makes a point of talking about not seeing me and missing me and I struggle to wrap my head around the idea of them missing me because when I see them they don’t talk to me! they don’t ask me shit they just take it in turns complaining about the other to me and I’m sat in the middle with my head in my hands wanting to die! I told them both at separate points that I wasn't getting involved and then got the silent treatment and I was just soooooo doneeeeeeee. I’m so grateful I could go on the trip and the highlights totally outweigh the bad bits but it’s hard to remember the good parts when the last 4 days were spent in a state of tension and arguments that I couldn't walk away from because there was nowhere to go! it’s like a constant battle of being grateful and then being annoyed over and over again and I don’t know how to deal with it so I just don’t! 

Going away with your family at my age is weird as well. my brother and I look very young so everyone else in the group very much assumed we were younger than we are which was funny and I guess a blessing. no shame in it but one of the other ppl in our group wasn't much older than me and she’s married with a house and a stable job and I just sat there like ahahahahahaaaaaaaaa. I know it’s bad to compare yourself to others and I’ve gotten better at not doing it but in situations like that, it’s hard. I said last time how I feel like I’m behind everyone and that's still stuck. I’m not doing bad per se but I’m not really making any money and I’m no closer to starting the career I want and that’s not for lack of trying like I keeeeeep applying for jobs and getting turned down on no response at all and it hurts. I worked so hard for my degree and some days it feels like it was for nothing. I know something will come up soon but the waiting is slowly killing me. 

I didn’t smoke the entire holiday either as I couldn’t because my parents don’t need another reason to be disappointed in me and now I’m back in the UK I can’t afford to buy any cigs but GOD DO I WANT SOME PLEASE. I know it’s bad for u and shit but I just want a little treat. I didn’t miss it when I was away and because I literally couldn't get any it didn’t even really cross my mind bc I was so busy but now I’m back and the corner shop is 5 minutes away i’m like uwu yes pls gimme the lil death stick. I think that's one of my biggest issues, if something is within my reach I literally cannot deny myself it. goes for food, people, drinks whatever, if I can get it I’ll have it even if it’s not a sensible thing to do within the budget I have. I think it stems from my childhood but I’m not getting into that right now. 

In other news, I’m actually having a birthday party for the first time since I was a kid!!! wooo!!! hopefully, I won’t cry this birthday other than from happiness!!!! everyone I’ve asked is well keen as well so I was like yay amazing! and then one of my mates whom my relationship with is so complicated I wouldn’t even know where to start was like ‘Yeah sure I’ll come’ and I was like fab ok and then the NEXT TIME he messaged me he was like ‘oh it’s the FOOTBALL FINAL SO I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN COME’?????????????? HELLO???????????? I’m honestly fuming. I get it, your team might not get to the final again fine whatever but the matches are like in the afternoon so u could still come after???? oh my apologies for thinking I, your friend or whatever whom you have been through an insane amount of shit with, might be A BIT MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE FUCKING FOOTBALL???? I hate men oh my god I’m actually mad and maybe that's selfish but what the fuck. I’m currently leaving him on delivered because I’m not about to start shit between us for the millionth time but considering the conversation we had about new years and how he had fomo you would think he’d wanna come but no. If he does end up changing his mind I’m so tempted to be like ‘nah don’t bother’ but that goes against every single particle of my being so WE’LL SEE. if he tries anything imma whack him (probably) but regardless, it should be fun and it’ll be nice to see all my friends in one place and shit. I’m very nervous about it bc I’m convinced no one will come but everyone I’ve asked has been enthusiastic so hopefully, it goes well. hopefully. I don’t want another birthday where I end up feeling upset or like a burden or whatever. thinking about it reminded me of one birthday I had where my so-called friend made out with the guy I liked when we were in the cinema knowing full well I liked him. good vibes!!! 

anyway, that’s me! once again not particularly positive but I’ve realised I use this as a way to get things off my chest I’m not sure how to properly talk about in person. which I think is kinda the point of this anyway. but regardless, I’m tanned and travelled and back to the grind like the alpha male I am. 

peace out homies

eucalyptus ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡

[cyarskaren52]

The 10 Best Sexy Christmas Songs, Ranked

Kayla Kibbe

Friends, it’s that time of year again, by which I of course mean time for me and my former-Catholic-school irreverence to ruin the holiest of holy days by making it a sex thing. As we here at Cosmo have so generously demonstrated over the years, there are plenty of ways one can go about doing this, like giving the internet a veryintimately detailed description of how much you want to fuck the Grinch, or ranking his fellow Christmas movie villains on their comparative bangability. 

But, as Taylor Swift might say, don’t blame me. In case you haven’t noticed, Christmas was weirdly horny well before I got here. There’s Santa’s obvious sugar daddy thing, literally so, somuch more yuletide pornography than anyone could possibly want, plus whatever’s going on with The Rockettes, which, as far as I can tell, is a supposedly family-friendly spectacle that seems to center on sexy dancing ladies with legs for days, just saying. (Christmas is a horny and confusing time, isn’t it? Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.) And then, of course, there’s the sexy Christmas songs. 

Horny holiday music tends to represent a particularly unhinged subgenre of this seasonal catalog, anchored by kind-of-cringe classics like “Santa Baby” and the one where the kid catches his parents making out—which, literally why? I hate absolutely every aspect of that song and have never met a single person who feels differently. If you are that person, please let me know what I’m missing. JK, please never attempt to contact me—we are not the same and I want nothing TF to do with you and your rancid taste in Christmas music.

More From Cosmopolitan

 

Anywayyy, I’m happy to report that in more recent years, unnecessarily sexy Christmas songs have gone through a pretty substantial glow up. I’m not saying many of them are really any more hinged, per se, than their predecessors. But they’re definitely better. And so, I, your resident chief of sexually-charged Christmas content, present to you my official ranking of the best, not-cringe sexy Christmas songs. May this soundtrack bring you peace as we all navigate this horny and confusing time together.

10. Santa Tell Me (Naughty Version) — Ariana Grande

Look, I’m just gonna say it: Ariana fully phoned it the fuck in on this one. When I first heard she was releasing a sexed-up version of this 2014 instant classic nine years after its OG release, I was like, “Wow, maybe a horny ‘Santa Tell Me’ is what my life has been missing for the past near-decade. Save me, horny ‘Santa Tell Me.’” And then she gave us two lines. TWO. LINES. That’s it. The entire rest of the song is exactly the same. She didn’t even throw in a fun and flirty outro. Nothing. Listen, ordinarily I respect Ariana’s quiet-quitting-coded choice to blissfully ignore her fans’ increasingly thirsty pleas for new music while she’s busy banging SpongeBob and being blonde. But this time, frankly, I expected more. The only reason this half-assed cash-grab even made this list is because I still respect Ariana’s reign as the rightful Queen of Christmas Pop (sorry, Mariah), but honestly, I fear her throne may be in danger after this travesty. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

9. Santa Baby — Ariana Grande, Liz Gillies

Okay I know I just called ”Santa Baby” cringe, which it is. But as far as renditions of this immortal ode to wanting to fuck Santa go, the Ariana and Liz Gillies version is superior. (Obviously Eartha Kitt’s reigns supreme, but I’m talking modern-day covers.) On a semi-unrelated note, I would also like to take a moment here to shout out baby Taylor Swift’s version, which is rendered remarkably sexless thanks to Debut Era Tay’s faux twang. Trust me, nothing sucks the sex out of things quite like a fake-ass country accent, which ends up making this song more cute than horny and thus...actually kind of better?

8. Glittery — Kacey Musgraves

This 2019 banger isn’t suuuper horny, sure, but it is at least a little bit sexually suggestive. I mean, getting shaken up and turned upside down by a lover doesn’t not sound kinky.

7. Cozy Little Christmas — Katy Perry 

“A little whisky, we’re getting frisky,” and by “we,” Katy Perry apparently means she and Santa, with whom she enjoys a nude couple’s massage in the predictably over-the-top music video for this playfully flirty little number. TBH, I’m kind of surprised Katy Perry, queen of campy horn, hasn’t blessed us with anything more explicit in the holiday music department, but this will have suffice until she sees fit to drop a festive version of ”Peacock.” (“I wanna see your...yule log?” Just a suggestion!)

6. ’Tis the Damn Season — Taylor Swift

Okay, so this isn’t really a Christmas song in the traditional sense, nor is it really horny in the typical tongue-in-cheek kinda way that defines this subgenre. What it is, however, is a song about banging your high school ex when you go home for the holidays and also yearning, which I think definitely qualifies it for this list. If you feel differently, kindly submit a formal complaint to Kayla @ JK, don’t contact me dot com.

5. Buy Me Presents — Sabrina Carpenter

In which this rising Queen of Horny Christmas (Ariana, watch your back), implores her lover to drink her like a glass of warm milk and keep her “stocking” filled, because if he doesn’t deliver she’ll just fuck Santa instead. Ladies, it never hurts to remind your man that you have Other! Options!

4. December — Ariana Grande

Ah, yes, Christmas & Chill, the EP of exclusively horny Christmas bangers that cemented Ariana’s (ahem, now wavering!) status as the true Queen of Christmas Pop. Merry Christmas, here I am boy, indeed.

3. Wit It This Christmas — Ariana Grande 

In which Ariana dares to ask the question on all of our horny, confused minds this time of year: “Are you down for some of these milk and cookies?”

2. Christmas Tree — Lady Gaga ft. Space Cowboy

My elder Gen Z is showing with this one, but listen—if you, like me, were in sixth grade when this song came out, it was a whole damn thing. Like, your crush Tyler probably played it for you on his iPod Shuffle at recess and you smiled knowingly at the lyrics even though you weren’t really quite sure how to decipher all this horny holiday innuendo because you were 11 and hadn’t 100 percent figured out how sex works yet, but also because it turns out sexual innuendo in Christmas music is pretty much borderline nonsensical as a rule. Which brings us to….

1. A Nonsense Christmas — Sabrina Carpenter

Ariana, take notes. This is how you sex up a re-release of an existing song, okay? Sabrina committed to the damn bit on this one and she nailed it. She did not have to go this hard, but she did. And, that, friends, is the true spirit of horny Christmas.

Kayla Kibbe (she/her) is the Associate Sex and Relationships Editor at Cosmopolitan US, where she covers all things sex, love, dating and relationships. She lives in Astoria, Queens and probably won’t stop talking about how great it is if you bring it up. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram. 

Sent from my iPhone

[purplesurveys]

1719

Do you still read the newspaper or have an online newspaper subscription? I have to check the news everyday for work purposes. That's multiple websites of newspapers, their social media accounts, and online magazines.

What's your favourite kind of meat? (vegan/vegetarian options count!) Chicken. I only like pork as pork belly tbh, and steak for me is always a hit or miss.

Have you ever been mistaken for staff at a store you were just visiting? Maybe once or twice; it doesn't happen often. I've been mistaken more frequently as someone's companion. Like people will think they're talking to their friend when it's me.

What's the coolest or most memorable animal you've ever seen at a zoo? The Philippine eagle, but I don't really get *amazed* per se when I see 'cool' animals at zoos. I just feel bad.

Do you share a bedroom with anybody? No. My sister and I tried to share a room once, but it lasted for all of a week because she hated sharing a room with anyone lol. The room also felt super cramped so we quickly decided it wasn't going to work.

What colour are the public buses where you live? We have these white mini-buses that'll pass by here every now and then, and they're white. The bigger buses that traverse Edsa are white and yellow if I'm not mistaken.

How often do you pay your utilities bills? I'm not assigned to any bills in particular, but I transfer to my parents' accounts twice a month. I let them decide how to allot the money.

What video game have you played the most hours of? If you don't know, just make a rough guess. I would guess The Sims 2; that or GTA San Andreas.

Do you own a two-piece bikini? I only own bikinis; I hate how one-pieces feel.

Is there anybody else in the room you're in right now? Nopes.

What have you got within reaching distance of you right now? My phone, my McDonald's orders, pillows, chargers, blanket, work chair, vape.

What have you been craving lately, food-wise? Anything non-food? McDonald's. I overordered last night because I was hungry so I got all my favorites lmao - a triple cheeseburger, large fries, and nuggets.

Is your short-term or long-term memory worse? My short-term memory is horrible; it comes as a disadvantage especially at work and I wouldn't blame my co-workers if they label me as forgetful.

Do you do anything in particular to help you fall asleep? I need to have videos on with the volume at the lowest setting. To avoid draining my battery I have a timer set so that when it runs out my phone will automatically turn the video off.

What was the weather like today? Too early to tell; it's only 7:20 AM. Right now the sun is out but I also wouldn't be surprised if it suddenly rains super aggressively later on in the day as that pattern has been happening lately.

Who will you see within the next week? My dentist, and I am guessing Angela, Hans, and Reena. We've been dying to go to the karaoke these days and I think we'll finally get to next Monday as it will be a public holiday.

Do you have any guilty pleasure music? Anything you're willing to admit in this survey answer? Idk if there's any? I don't feel guilty about anyone whose songs I like.

What was the last movie you watched that was over two hours long? It's been so long since I watched a long movie. It was probably either Titanic or Gone with the Wind.

Speaking of which, what's the longest you think a movie should be? I personally think most movies are too long. It depends on the plot and execution, so I'm not very nitpicky when it comes to this. If a movie needs to be 7 hours long to get its message and art across then so be it.

Do you know anyone who is a medical nurse or doctor? Yes so many people. I'm Asian (aka kids are pressured to be doctors) and Filipino (aka a heavyweight in nursing), so it checks out hah.

Have you ever worked night shifts? If so, did you like it? I have not. I once scored a job interview that would have been a night shift if I got the gig, but at the last minute I decided I didn't want to be in it so I didn't push through with the interview.

Are you good at fixing computer problems? I'd say just basic ones but I'll struggle with even those sometimes, so for the most part no. I leave the troubleshooting to my sister.

Do you tend to make decisions by following your heart or your head? Head.

What's the population of your current city/town? A little below one million.

Do your parents live in their hometown(s)? Nope.

What are you wearing today? My favorite purple pajamas.

Are you one to accessorise a lot? Not at all.

What language other than English do you know the most words of? Filipino.

When was the last time you ate? Did you eat something nice? I'm taking a few bites out of my cheeseburger every now and then this morning. Like I said, I overordered McDonald's last night because I was hungry LOL so most of the shit I got is still here with me today. The only thing I finished last night was the fries and that's because there's no way you can save fries that have gone cold.