#it's so weird feeling optimistic and over it at the same time

[cosmic-light-fics]

Before and after watching The Bear Season 3

[fruitsyrups]

ive crossed over into an alternate dimension where side profiles are somehow sometimes easier to draw than other angles. bodies in side profile however... nooo thank you...

[arolesbianism]

Ok so good news I have finished unlocking all the oni lore, bad news there wasn't as much left as I was hoping. But on the bright side, Jean and Nails got to do more stuff hell fucking yes

[rafeandonlyrafe]

demonstration

words: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating

“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.

“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.

“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?” “rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?” “i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.” “no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.

“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.

--

“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.

“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.

“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.

“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.

“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.” “i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”

“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.

“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.

“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.

“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”

“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?” “yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.

“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”

--

rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.

“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.

“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric. 

“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free. 

“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.

“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”

“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.

“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.

topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.

“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.

“yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.

“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.

“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.” “okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.

“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.

toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.

“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.

“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.

“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.

“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”

“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.

“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.

“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.

“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.

“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.

“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.

topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.

he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”

topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.

“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”

topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.

“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.” “i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.” “damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.

“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.

topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.

“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.

“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.

“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.

“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.

“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.

“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.” “i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?” “you wouldn’t?” topper questions.

“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”

“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.

“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.” 

topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.

“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.

“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.

“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.

“i-but topper…” “just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.” “i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” --

rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.

“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.

“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”

rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.

“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”

“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.” “he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.

“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.

rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.” rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.

“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.

“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.

“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.

“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.

“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.” you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.

“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.

“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”

despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.

“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.” “please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.

“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.

“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.

you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal. 

rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.

“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.

“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.

“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.

“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.

“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld

[astroice]

random astro observations pt. 2🍡

this are only a bunch of observations based on my friends and family, so take what reasonates and leave what doesn’t

Highlights: cancer, moon, gemini, rising, 4th house, scorpio, mars, saggittarius (a lot), stelliums, 8th house, virgo, aquarius, taurus, pisces, leo

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Cancer moons are NOT crybabies, they are so strong and give up a lot only for other people. They tend to feel anything and everything at the same time, extreme sensitivity. They have a special ability comforting their special ones. 

Gemini rising often find people commenting about their eyes, they’re absolutely all the focus of their face. Whether big or small, they are VERY beautiful. (My mom and I are Gemini rising and people always comment ‘wow, what big eyes!’ it’s a bit weird sometimes)

Mars in 4th house is one of the most difficult placements. It means anger or issues around the family and home life. Lots of them are awfully honest abt life and I get kind of a vibe of daddy issues

Scorpio Mars can hurt very deeply only with words and their anger is often is accompanied with a lot of pain. It depends of how you hurt them but they can resent you for years and even take revenge but that also depends of the rest of their placements

Saggittarius Mars are… argumentative? I say it in a good way. If you don’t agree with them, prepare for a 5 hour ted talk, they’ll give you a list of hundreds of the facts they support and why they’re the best way to think

Venus in Virgo people over analyze their relationships A LOT.  They want people who see small details in them and help them to be better in the interior. They might not be most romantic sign but they really put effort in relationships so they get to know you better and give you the love you need

Sagittarius Placements cover their feelings with laughter and humor, they don’t want to be seen as emotional or well, as humans. They try to be optimistic against all problems so they don’t fall into sadness. People describe them as funny but they really need a hug 

Taurus Mars they always react calmly and understating to any argument or situation, their patience is also very strong so they usually don’t get angry. Very good parents and communication although their stubbornness might get them lost

Pisces Stellium have a strong bond with spirituality and dreams. A lot of their lessons come from dreams. They have a special connection with music and express themselves artistically. They almost always are good with instruments especially drums. 

Leo Moons are usually the center of attention without trying. Whether you are good at school, arts or sports but they’re definitely the spotlight 

Libra Venus they have really a kind heart. When someone catches their eye they’ll do whatever they need to do for impressing them. They are HUGE flirts and dream of a love book relationship. A friend has her libra in venus and a guy took advantage of her making her do things she didn’t wanted but it was “a proof of your love”. So people often take advantage of their passionate love

Hope you liked it!

I appreciate comments and questions ❥

-Lua

[lieswetell]

IFHY (Jordan Li x Alt!Reader) PT 1

Tags~ roommate au, enemies to lovers, alt reader, tattooed reader, slow burn, supe!reader, afab!fem!reader

Warnings~ angry sex, jordan might be a lil mean, porn w plot bc im freaky like that, drugs, alcohol, gay shit

Monday, August 7th

“It’s only one semester. This will be over before you know it,” Mia said.

You want to hear her out and try to be optimistic about the situation, but it’s complicated. Having your own dorm was rare in Godolkin. Students who did usually paid an ungodly amount for the extra privacy or were gifted one because of their current sponsors. For you, in your previous two years, it had been a mixture of both.

“This is bullshit.” You complain and have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at your phone.

Mia hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing everything she could to get you what you wanted. However, it wasn’t playing out in your favor this time. You were still in your dorm, trying to cling on to that last bit of single dorm life you could, even though you were moments away from the move.

“Look. I love you, but there isn't anything else I can do. Some of these kids will probably be out in a few months.” Mia tried to help you look on the bright side of the situation.

You have yet to respond to what your assistant was telling you. Instead, you just kept looking around the now-empty dorm with a mournful gaze.

“Shetty says it’s a large roo-” Mia added.

“My room was plenty big enough,” You complained again. This time, the words came out in a sort of whine that would remind anyone else of a toddler.

 You got up from the floor and wiped your hands on your pants. After taking a deep breath, you closed the last bin in your room.

“One semester.”  You sighed.

“One semester,” Mia said, her voice a lot more positive than yours.

“When are you recording that video for-”

“Alright, look at the time the moving team is here. Can’t be late.” You cut her off and blew her a kiss before hanging up on her.

The moving team wasn’t anywhere near your room, and you knew that. If you focused, you could hear everyone in the building. There wasn’t a trace of dickheads with whistles anywhere near you.

The Godolkin University moving team usually consisted of sophomore students with too much strength to know where to put it. Many were from various clubs or programs that forced them to help incoming students. 

You started to stack your bins and luggage outside of your room on your own. Typically, the moving team would assist the students. Still, it was effortless for you to carry the items, and you thought if you looked around your dorm for any longer, you might burst into tears. That wasn’t very productive or good for your image if anyone were to see it. So you popped in your earbuds and started to lift the bins. When finished you put the label on your crate 465.

 With the headphones in your ears, you didn’t notice just how much more lively it was. Most of your floormates were in other single dorms with other upper-level students. So you would only really run into a few people if any, daily. With the influx of incoming students moving in, you would easily have trouble avoiding anyone. According to your assistant Mia, every dorm room was filled(yayyyy godolkin for not allowing students to live off campus).

After skipping an array of songs, Spotify somehow thought would suit your style, someone poked you on the shoulder.

“You’re 17#, right? Big fan, honest.”The boy said. Something you noticed everyone said after they wanted to snap a quick picture with someone. You couldn’t complain, though you had no proof this person was lying to you.

“Nice to meet you.” You said and copied the same amount of excitement. The perfect amount to seem genuine but still cool enough to feel above them in that weird way you can only get from social media. You extended your hand, and he shook it eagerly.

You didn't feel that way, of course. That’s just the game and how you needed to perform. All to get where you needed to be. Being a hero was a machine full of moving parts, and Mia has been training you since you were fourteen.

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, and you nodded before he could get the sentence out.

Always…

“Always always…” you answered happily. You quickly adjusted your hair and gave the boy a side hug.

The selfie came out nice. Cute and wholesome. You made sure he tagged you on the picture and used a few of your hashtags. You gazed around, wondering who was assisting him with the move. He just looked around at your bins before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything fragile in there?” He asked awkwardly. It seems he hadn't shaken off the nerves from meeting you. It was so silly to you. You weren’t Homelander or Queen Maeve.

“Yeah, the fragile stuff is in that box right there. Marked fragile in bold red tape…”

The boy then looked back at you with a look you couldn’t place. Before you could even realize what was about to happen, his arms stretched out to unnatural lengths as if he were made of rubber. He lifted all of your bins simultaneously. He wrapped and stacked them into the carts and secured them as if his arms were bungee cords. It was astonishing. You had never seen that power before, and although it was slightly disgusting, it was cool.

Just as you went to pat him on the back, a box on top crashed to the floor. You heard the glass shatter and knew instantly it was the fragile box he so kindly placed on top of everything to avoid it getting crushed. Just my luck. That was definitely the bong in there that you’ve had for a few years. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I've been stretched out all day. Things are starting to fall out.” he apologized genuinely.

“Lemme guess you are usually super tight?”

Your roommate was finished moving all of her things to the other side of the room. It definitely started as a struggle, but after a bit of time, Jordan started to get the hang of it. Early in the process, he was just bitching to himself about having to do this in the first place. He didn't really have anyone to complain about it to. His friends were rooming with each other, and he was the only one stuck rooming with a new person.

 His parents didn't understand his frustrations, and instead, they were just happy he would be rooming with a girl. Jordan tried explaining his irritation to Brink, but that was also a no-go. All Brink did was reframe the situation by saying it could somehow make Jordan a better hero.

“Are there seriously no fucking quads in this place?” Jordan complained to no one.

He sat on his loveseat on his couch and scrolled on his phone. He debated not being in the room when his new roommate arrived. Jordan heard that people had done that, but he was too nervous to do it himself. What if you stole something? What if you wanted to put your stuff on his side? Maybe you were a weird freshman? Or worse, a fan of him?

He sat back on the couch. His feet were planted firmly in front of him, and he scrolled on his phone. It was a position he often found himself in. In this form, his feet were actually able to reach the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch comfortably. In the other one, her feet dangled and gave off a less intimidating look than the one he was currently in.

There was a soft knock on the door. Jordan rolled his eyes and stayed in his position. Why would he open the door? If they were supposed to be moving in, they surely would have a key, right? He looked at his door open. Jordan wasn’t really sure what to expect to be standing in the doorway. 

When the ugly beast finally reared its head, Jordan finally exhaled. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until you waved at him.

“Hi” You said

It’s all you can offer him at the moment. The little helper you had assisting you barged in soon after you greeted Jordan. Jordan didn't even say anything to you. He just looked at you from his spot on the loveseat then his eyes trailed over to the freshman who couldn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Looks like! Holy shit Jordan”

“Yeah.” He just nodded, confirming that he was indeed Jordan Li

The freshman stood awkwardly with your things and stared at Jordan. The interaction was just already a lot weirder than it needed to be. So you stood at the door and tried to think of a way to intervene in the impromptu staring contest.

“Thanks. You can just leave it right here. I can do the rest.” You thanked him with a big smile

With another resounding crash, he let go of the bins, and you winced. Jordan even was taken aback by the sound and rolled his eyes

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked 

He sounded genuine even though he treated your belongings like they were indestructible. You buffered for a moment and realized what he said

“Ma’am? How old do you think- never mind, just leave thanks.” You shooed him away and exhaled softly

“Bye”

He watched you. You unpacked your things, and he stayed put and just watched you. He was cycling through so many things in his head. Being so last minute, this situation didn't give him any time to prepare. The only thing he did was clean and move his shit to one side of the room. He was grateful that he could at least recognize you from the ranking. The unknown was scary like that. Jordan knows you have been slowly climbing your way to the top. Your reputation was squeaky clean. Your brand was sweet, innocent, and confident. 

Your brand didn't mean he trusted you, though. Anyone with more than two fucking brain cells at this school knew that your ‘brand’ or ‘online presence’ meant absolutely nothing. Just because you waltz in here with your big smile and wave doesn't mean he will let his guard down. Roommate or not, you still had the potential to be a big fucking dick.

“Yeah, just don’t touch any of my shit, and we should be fine.” Jordan said without looking up from his phone.

He sat comfortably slumped on the sofa. The uninterested appearance he’s in pissed you off. Oh, so he’s just like this? You could do this, though. You wouldn’t let him see that you were frustrated. People like him lived off of that shit, and you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. You just nodded and gave him another smile, one real enough to be convincing.

“I understand. You do have some nice things. Probably wouldn’t want anyone getting into it either.” You said in that cheerful voice that you had been trained to perfect. 

That time, Jordan did look at you. He was now thoroughly annoyed and over the roommate situation. In his eyes, he tried. In the twenty minutes you had been in the room, Jordan considered everything he had done ‘trying’. This situation wouldn’t work, though. He just wasn’t built to share rooms with a random person.

-

-

-

Wednesday, September 27th

“Jesus Christ, do you ever fucking fucking knock?!” Jordan shouted

You did knock. You dented the door to your room because you were banging on the door for about ten minutes. You even shot Jordan a few texts saying when you would return to the dorm. Of course, she hadn’t responded to any of them; she never did.

So you said fuck it and broke the lock on your door and walked into the room. Jordan was riding some junior in her bed. The sight wasn’t new to you, so you were unfazed. Seemingly to you, Jordan never really cared about you seeing her naked. It was more of the fact you were interrupting her that was the problem. In the two months you have been rooming with Jordan, you have walked in on her having sex four times.

The first time, it came as a shocker. You squealed and covered your eyes, immediately leaving the room and shooting her a few apology texts. When you left, Jordan just continued on like it was nothing. Like you were just a temporary pause. This time wasn’t like that. You walked in and closed the door behind you.

So you waved at the man who was underneath Jordan on the bed. He looked at you with a confused look, then turned to look back at Jordan, who was bewildered.

“You're not usually my type, but I think I could be down for both of you,” The man said, then looked back up at Jordan curiously.

You just walked toward your desk, sat down, and started up your laptop.

She climbed off him and huffed, “Get out”.

Then the man shuffled awkwardly around the room and tried to pick up his clothes. He slipped the condom off and didn't know what to do with it, so he tried to hand it to Jordan. She pointed towards the door, so he just nodded and held it as he left the room. His clothes were still crumpled in his other hand, covering his dick. You shook your head slightly, knowing that type of thing was far too normalized in this school.

“Do you purposely do that?” Jordan asked you sharply. It was more of an accusation. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was always intending to fight.

“Do what?” You asked and logged into the Godolkin portal.

“Wait until I’m using the room to appear out of thin air” She complained and stepped closer to you.

Whenever Jordan spoke to you, it was like they were a nagging little voice that you had to physically restrain yourself from losing your cool with. You didn’t want to risk an argument with Jordan, no matter how much of a bitch she was. It just wasn’t worth it. It would be optimistic to think that Jordan wouldn’t somehow get you lousy press from the situation. It was also optimistic of you to think that one day, Jordan would just stop trying to fight the fact that they would have to live with someone.

Every day you felt like you were seconds from Jordan finally saying fuck it and starting beef with you publicly just to fuck up your rank. Being ranked seventeen wasn’t the best you could be, but to most people, being in the top one hundred was quite an accomplishment. Job security was a hard thing for supes to find, and you weren’t going to fuck up your brand just because Jordan was having a bad day.

“Oh, please. I texted you, Jordan. Multiple times,” It came out with a little more emotion than you intended. Patience wasn’t your strength today.

“You didn’t,” She said flatly.

You huffed and pulled your phone out of your bag. When you pulled up the text chain to show her. You looked away awkwardly when she turned around to grab her phone. For some reason seeing her ass suddenly felt invasive, although she was so chill about it. Once again, she was more pissed about the fact she didn't cum.

“That’s not even my number.” She showed you her Apple ID and rolled your eyes.

“Who’s fault is that?” You asked her this time; your tone couldn’t have been mistaken for anything but annoyed.

Jordan realized what she did and grabbed your phone out of your hand. You scoffed at the action and tried to snatch it back, but she was faster than you. Probably in both forms, unfortunately. Jordan just updated the contact info and handed you back your phone(which you snatched out of her hands immediately).

“You could’ve knocked,” Jordan said, and you did a sharp inhale.

You looked up at her, then back down at your phone at the updated info. It was hard not for you to be pissed about the fact he lied to you. So many arguments could’ve been avoided, but of course, she couldn’t even give you her number.

“I did. For about ten minutes. Maybeyouweretoobusycreamingondicktohearaboutit” 

The words came out as a rushed whisper. The struggle of trying to hold your anger was starting to become not only a mental challenge but a physical one.

“What did you say?”Jordan asked. This time, he almost seemed kind of excited, which didn't help you calm your nerves in the slightest.

“The locks broken, by the way. You locked me out, so I had to break it open. I’ll schedule a maintenance worker to check it out around five,” You told him. The facade was back up. You were no longer spewing attitude at him.

The maintenance request was sent, and Jordan was left confused at the sudden change in demeanor. He was excited for a second that it seemed you finally had a moment of real fucking emotion with him. Jordan would much rather be alone in his dorm, but your unwavering positivity threw him off more than he intended.

Jordan could recall a few times he would complain and rant about you to his friends during smoke seshes. It had only been two months, but he felt like he wasn’t even rooming with a natural person. Something about you was too perfect, too clean, just all around, too bland. He was excited to talk to a person for that quick moment there. It's not the brand you posted for everyone to see. 

He went back to the other side of the room in defeat. He sat on top of his bed. Jordan never stopped looking at you. You slipped up, and maybe that gave him hope(he would never admit it).

“I need the room at five,” Jordan said.

You furrowed your brows and looked over at the calendar on the wall. Each day that passed, scribbled out with a blue Sharpie. You shook your head and looked over at him.

“You have class. It’s Wednesday,” You said matter of factly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and mumbled

.“No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He could be so petty sometimes for no reason, and this was one of those moments.

“Did you just disagree with me just because?” You asked him.

Jordan couldn’t think of a comeback or words to say. You talked to him in that weirdly positive tone despite clearly being irritated with him again. Maybe his dick twitched a little, but he ignored that.

“Jordan, put some clothes on, okay?” 

“Fuck you”

“Your dick is out”

“Have a great day”

Maintenance fixed the door problem by 5:13 pm. It was a simple fix. A new doorknob was installed, but a couple of dents from your early frustration remained a reminder. Afterward, you were alone in your dorm, struggling to wait forty minutes to join a lecture.

  It was a struggle not to nod off in front of your computer. Online classes always felt like a good idea when you signed up for them, but you soon realized they were a trap. It is a carefully crafted trap for you to waste your time on the course because you couldn't keep your eyes open long enough to listen to your professor drone on about the importance of… You fell asleep.

You needed the relief anyway. It was a struggle to keep holding up the illusions you were. The influx of incoming students fucked you over. Having a roommate who hated you meant you were always using your powers. You couldn’t trust him not to try and ruin your brand. The only times you would have a break from having to cast an illusion was when Jordan was out doing whatever the fuck he did besides training and sulking.

Illusions fell around you—your side of the room that was once pale blue and pink warped into black and purple. Your hair, which once seemed to be tied tightly in a bun, fell around your shoulders. The pink sweater you wore was replaced with a black hoodie you had for years. The illusions you had concealing your tattoos shattered. The ink from your arm sleeve peaked out from the wrist of your hoodie.

-

-

-

“Who are you texting?”Andre asked 

It was late. Jordan sat on the couch in his friends' dorm and tried not to be bitter that there were only three bedrooms. He typed in his phone, angry you weren’t responding. Why does he have to deal with this? He’s pretty sure when he leaves that, all three of them just crash in the living room in a pile like cavepeople anyways. Andre’s room was always too fucking clean for anyone to actually stay in there.

He leaned over on the couch to try and take a peak at Jrdan’s phone. Jordan leaned away, mildly irritated with his friend. Andre just shrugged and made a face at Cate. Cate rolled her eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. It was the only thing Jordan talked about the past couple of weeks.

“My hell of a roommate,” Jordan complained and rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t responded to the last ten texts he sent. He was trying to be better to you. He might've felt a bit guilty about giving you the wrong number for that long. So now he was trying to do what you would have done for him. He planned on bringing the same guy from earlier back over, but you wouldn’t respond to him.

“Oh, she cant be that bad?” Cate said, trying to be positive about the situation.

“Cute, you guys are texting,” Andre whispered.

Jordan heard him, however, and switched. Before Andre had a chance to react, Jordan slapped him in the back of the head. The touch was light but quick. Andre chuckled softly and then raised both of his hands.

“Well, I’m trying to tell her I'm on my way back to the dorm. Might need it in a few,” Jordan explained and put his phone away.

“Why do you look so stressed?” Luke asked.

To be honest, he was the only one not caught up on the whole Jordan hating her roommate thing. He thought she would get over it in a week, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. Jordan still hated you basically for existing at this point. Luke tried to lock in on the situation, but he was still pretty high from the session that just ended.

“She isn’t fucking responding,” Jordan whined.

“It’s fine. It’s only been like ten minutes,” Luke stated.

Luke’s eyes looked around the room for whatever the fuck he was missing. Cate just laughed beside him.

“Since the last text I sent. I texted her five hours ago,” Jordan added, her arms crossed in front of her.

“It’s probably nothing,” Luke assured her, although he didn't understand why the situation was that. 

Serious. Cate understood it, though. Even if, at the time, Jordan didn’t understand, she could have seen it already. Cate had a weird way of just knowing.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?”Andre asked, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Jordan looked away and flipped him off. Cate and Andre shared another look, and Jordan wanted to flip the couch over. She didn’t though

“Fuck off, Dre.”

“Who is she again? Freshman?” Cate asked

“No, junior.” Jordan answered.

“Who is it?”Luke asked, hoping that maybe that would explain Jordan’s frustration.

When Jordan answered, none of them had much of a reaction, which wasn’t very satisfying for Jordan. Andre didn’t even know who you were talking about(he didn't pay attention to the rankings much). Cate just nodded, taking in the info. It was always funny to her how the most liked people could be some of the worst. Luke didn't run with Jordan’s opinion of her roommate. He knew how dramatic Jordan could sometimes be, and he was pretty sure she would've hated any roommate she was assigned to just because they were an inconvenience to Jordan.

Jordan didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, so the hangout was cut shorter than normal. Once she answered one question, it was like he opened Pandora’s box of bullshit, and everyone wouldn’t get the spotlight off of her. So, she gave up on reaching out to the guy from earlier and instead was banging on the door of her dorm room like a mad woman.

“Dude, open the fucking door!”Jordan shouted.

He didn't want to break the door again, but the longer he stood outside, the more appealing of an idea it became. Inside the dorm, you were still fast asleep at your desk. The exhaustion from overusing your powers took a severe toll on your body. You had been out cold the entire time. All illusions previously placed on you and your things were deactivated.

“C’mon, this is really petty. Just open up.” Jordan said again, but you couldn’t hear him.

A hard alarm sounded in your ear. You shook your head awkwardly, then scrambled to check your laptop.

Take your pill

You nodded and stood up to take your birth control. You made it three steps before you fell because of the loud bang at your door. Shit. Jordan’s voice yelled something behind the door that you couldn’t quite make out at the moment. All you knew was that you needed to hurry and get all the illusions back up. You waved your hands a bit, trying to tap into Jordan’s psyche once you were confident enough that the illusions were back up, and you dry-swallowed your birth control and made your way to the door.

Act normal

“Hey, sorry I got caught up in studying?” You answered the door with a smile.

“Fine, whatever. I texted you, though.” Jordan looked at you, partially confused

It didn't make sense to him. You went hours without answering him, and your excuse was that you got caught up studying. What the fuck? You didn’t even look tired? Jordan hated you. You closed the door behind him and sat on your bed.

[clangenrising]

Month 17 - Greenleaf

Floating on adrenaline, Fogpaw trailed home after Floodstrike and Sparrowsway after a rousing bout of battle practice. She and Slatepaw had been thrilled at the opportunity to train with them, although Fogpaw wasn’t sure that they were excited for the same reason. Slatepaw had been acting strangely the whole time - staring distractedly, blushing and stuttering. Even now, she was sighing in a way that was distracting Fogpaw from the pleasant high she was trying to ride. 

“Thanks again for taking us out,” Slatepaw purred, hitching her step to catch up to the warriors. “I feel like I learn so much when we practice together.” 

Fogpaw, unsure why Slatepaw was acting that way, tried to keep up with the conversation regardless. “Yeah, you’re a really good teacher, Floodstrike!” Slatepaw glanced sideways at her with what seemed like a pout, if Fogpaw was reading it right, for what reason she had no idea.

“Hey, it was no problem,” Floodstrike said, grabbing her attention by flicking his tail at her nose. “You guys are really good students.”

“I bet you’ll have your warrior names in no time,” Sparrowsway added and Slatepaw grinned widely.

“You really think so?” 

He winced a bit and amended, “Well, I mean, you’ll have to wait until you’re twelve moons old, but I’m sure the time will fly.”  

“Oh, right,” Slatepaw blushed and looked at her paws. 

Fogpaw bumped shoulders with her and said, “I’m sure we’ll get them early. We just gotta do something big and brave!” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” laughed Floodstrike. “I tried for moons to get mine and I still had to wait.” 

“And yet,” Sparrowsway said, trying to sound optimistic, “it still feels like no time has passed since we were apprenticed. You’ll blink and it’ll be your naming ceremony, just watch.” 

“I hope so,” Slatepaw sighed in that strange way again. Fogpaw shot her a weirded out glance but she was too busy looking at Sparrowsway to notice. She frowned. It was weird not to know what Slatepaw was thinking. 

They returned to camp as the morning was starting to fade into day. Songdust was sharing tongues with Russetfrond on top of the warriors’ den as Lakekit wrestled with Bluekit and Yellowkit in the grass nearby. Fogpaw noticed Goldenstar sitting with Scorchplume in the entrance to her den, talking softly. 

As they approached, Floodstrike called out, “Hey there, Kiddo! How’re ya doin?” 

Lakekit looked up and said, “Flood-Bud! I’m- ACK!” In her distraction, the kittens pounced, driving their needle teeth into her ear and leg respectively. She toppled underneath them and they laughed uproariously. Fogpaw smiled and watched as Floodstrike hurried over to rescue Lakekit from the vicious anklebiters. Sparrowsway gave them a nod goodbye and headed off to where Barleybee was picking through the fresh-kill pile but Fogpaw barely noticed, too busy chuckling at the way that Lakekit mimicked the defensive stance Floodstrike was demonstrating. 

Then Slatepaw sighed again, pulling her out of it. 

“Isn’t he so dreamy?” she said, staring after Sparrowsway. Fogpaw raised a brow and followed her gaze. 

“Dreamy?” she asked, not understanding what under the stars her sister meant. 

“Yeah,” Slatepaw grinned, leaning against her. “Like a cat from a story.” 

“He looks like a normal cat to me,” Fogpaw said, very confused. 

“I think I’m in love,” Slatepaw sighed again for emphasis. Fogpaw wrinkled her nose at that. 

“What, with him?” she asked. 

“Yes, with him,” huffed Slatepaw, puffing up as she turned to scowl at Fogpaw. “Don’t act like it’s ridiculous.” 

“I didn’t say that,” Fogpaw frowned. “I just don’t get it. He’s just… a guy.” 

“Well, maybe he’s just not your type,” preened Slatepaw. “You like Floodstrike a lot, don’t you think he’s dreamy?” 

“Ew, what?” Fogpaw was sure her face was comical in its disgust. “No way!” 

“Okay then, what about Barleybee? Or even Fishtrick or Boldmoth?” tried Slatepaw. “Maybe you just like girls.” 

“You’re crazy,” Fogpaw shook her head. “These are all just cats, none of them are dreamy. What are you even talking about?” 

“You’re the one who’s crazy,” Slatepaw pouted. Fogpaw managed to realize that she had been really hurt. “It’s like you don’t even have eyes.” 

“Whatever,” Fogpaw shook her whole body to get rid of the feeling of isolation that was settling into her fur. “Have fun with your dumb dreams or whatever.” She stomped off, guilt writhing in her belly from the expression she knew Slatepaw was shooting after her. She quickly realized that she didn’t know where she was going and decided to pivot towards where Scorchplume was talking with Goldenstar. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about Slatepaw though. Did her sister really believe that crowfood? Was this like with the effigy where she was the only one who didn’t understand? She felt sick to her stomach at the thought. She hoped Scorchplume would be able to make it all make sense. She always knew what the truth was and how to explain it. 

“-working with him,” Goldenstar was saying in a hushed tone. “He seems like he’s really trying, even if it’s hard for him. I think we shouldn’t take that for granted. Besides, Jagg is a quick study and she’s even been coming up with ideas for other ways he can help us.” 

“He’s not to be trusted,” Scorchplume hissed quietly. “I know him better than most and he’s a coward when it comes down to it. When you need him most, he’ll buckle.” Fogpaw slowed her steps to eavesdrop a bit before she made her presence known. 

“I know he’s hurt you in the past,” said Goldenstar gently, “but I think we should judge him based on what he’s doing now just as much, if not more than what he’s done.”

“Do what you want,” Scorchplume said in the tone of voice that meant she was angry but pretending not to be, “but mark my words: Ghost will betray your trust.” With that, Scorchplume got up and started heading off. 

“Scorch-” Goldenstar said, her voice catching in her throat with frustration. 

Fogpaw hesitated for a moment, then bounded quickly after her mentor. “Were you talking about my dad just now?”

Scorchplume bristled and pursed her lips as she turned to face Fogpaw. “That was a private conversation,” she said instead of answering. 

“Then you should have had it in private,” Fogpaw rolled her eyes. “Were you talking about my dad?” 

Scorch sighed in defeat. “I guess you’ve got me there.” She paused for a moment, still padding off towards the open fields. “Yes, we were.” 

“What did you mean when you said you knew him better than most?” Fogpaw pressed, keeping pace. 

Scorch huffed. “I need to stop teaching you to be so curious.” 

“Scorchplume, please,” she pleaded. 

“Fine,” said Scorchplume, tail twitching. “I used to be very close with your father. He wanted to be my mate for a while.” 

“Wait, really?” asked Fogpaw. “Did you want to be his mate too?” She couldn’t picture them together at all. She had trouble picturing things in general, but that was specifically hard to imagine. 

“No,” Scorch said in her teaching voice, “but I let him think I did.” 

“Why would you do that?” Fogpaw frowned. 

“Because he had something I wanted,” purred Scorchplume. “He could give me safety and power so I gave him what he wanted, which was thinking that I liked him back.” 

“Right,” Fogpaw hummed, sorting the thought into everything she knew about power and manipulation. “Why was that what he wanted though?” Slatepaw’s sighing was worming its way back to the front of her mind. 

“Because he’s a tom,” scoffed Scorchplume with a dismissive swish of her tail. Fogpaw’s face scrunched in confusion. When Scorchplume glanced back and spotted the expression, she sighed tiredly and said, “he wanted to have sex with me and to feel like he was desirable.” 

“And only toms want that?” Fogpaw frowned. 

“No,” Scorch sighed again. “Lots of she-cats want those things too. Toms just tend to fixate on them.” 

“Why?” 

“Because…” Scorchplume faltered, stopping as the crested the first hill outside of camp. She looked up at the sky as if she were searching for words. “Because they’re inclined to want those things. It’s just the way they’re built.” 

Fogpaw’s ears drooped at that but she nodded. “Okay.” After a moment, she added, “But so… You didn’t want to be his mate but you were anyway?” 

Scorchplume swallowed thickly. “No. I let him court me but it never went further than that.” 

“But so you let him court you even though you didn’t like him?” This was all so confusing. 

“Yes. Because doing so kept me safe.” Scorchplume’s voice was tense for some reason that was also confusing to Fogpaw. 

“That doesn’t seem…” Fogpaw searched for a word and only came away with, “healthy.” 

Scorch huffed a bitter laugh. “What was I supposed to do, not be safe?” 

“Well, couldn’t you have just asked him to keep you safe?” Fogpaw said. “Or found something else he wanted?” 

“No,” Scorch said firmly. “He wouldn’t have been persuaded by anything else I was able to give him.” 

“But that’s…” Fogpaw’s stomach was squirming uncomfortably. “Pantherhaze told us that when it comes to that kind of thing, wanting it is the most important part. If you didn’t like it you shouldn’t have pretended you did, you should have told him no.” 

Scorch looked at her and she couldn’t help but feel like Scorch was mad and she didn’t know why. Her mentor’s gaze was cold and distant, like the closeness between them had been withdrawn. She didn’t know what she had done to ruin it and it was terrifying. 

“And you should,” Scorchplume said, her voice strained. “Not everything I do is perfect.” There was bite on the end of the sentence that made Fogpaw’s ears wilt. 

“What did I do?” she asked. “Why are you mad at me?” 

Scorchplume closed her eyes and let out a slow breath through her nose. “I’m not mad at you, Fogpaw.” That only made her more frustrated. Why couldn’t she get it right?! 

Scorch continued, “I’m… The way things should be isn’t always the way they are. I’m glad you have the safety to speak your mind but I haven’t always had that. Speechcraft isn’t just something I enjoy learning, it was something I picked up because if I didn’t I would die. It was the same with Ghost. If I wanted to live I had to let him court me.” 

“Why though?” Fogpaw asked, ears pressed against her head. “Why wouldn’t he have helped you if you’d asked?” 

“Because,” Scorch said. “Because the world isn’t fair. Because he wanted something I had. Because he’s a selfish coward.” Her tail bristled as she spoke. The words sounded like she wanted to sink her teeth into them as they left her mouth. Fogpaw pursed her lips together. 

“I hate that,” she said. “I hate that he hurt you.” 

Scorchplume swallowed. There was silence. 

Fogpaw was starting to fume. How dare he hurt so many people who mattered to her? Tears starting to form in her eyes, she stepped forward and pressed her face into Scorchplume’s fur. The older cat stood still for a beat before carefully wrapping her tail over Fogpaw’s back. Fogpaw leaned into her and sniffled, claws kneading the earth. 

“I wish I could fix it,” she said into Scorch’s fur. “I’m not strong enough to fix it.” 

“No one is,” Scorchplume said hoarsely. “Everyone is hurting all the time and no one can fix it.” Fogpaw didn’t believe that - couldn’t believe that. She shook her head. 

“It’s alright,” Scorchplume soothed. “Don’t cry over me. I’m alright. You know I’m alright.” 

“Mhm,” said Fogpaw but she wasn’t sure that was true. After a few more long moments of taking solace in the darkness of her mentor’s fur, she sniffed loudly and pulled back to look up at Scorchplume’s face. Her mentor looked down at her with a smile that felt wrong, like her muscles hadn’t got the message that she was sad. 

Fogpaw cleared her throat and said, “I want to meet him.” 

“Oh, Fogpaw,” Scorchplume frowned, looking more like herself, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why not?” Fogpaw furrowed her brow.

“Because,” said Scorchplume, “you can’t trust him.”

“Okay, so I won’t,” said Fogpaw. “I want to meet him though. I want to tell him how I feel.” 

“What will that accomplish?” Scorchplume asked, twitching her tail. “What will you gain?” 

“I’ll feel better,” Fogpaw said. “And maybe once he hears it, he’ll understand he has to change.” 

Scorchplume scoffed. “That’s not possible, dear. Cats like him don’t change.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Fogpaw shook her head. “My mama said that talking things through is the best way to change a situation. Maybe you’ve just never tried talking to cats like him.” 

“I haven’t had the luxury,” Scorchplume said sharply. 

“But I do,” said Fogpaw, standing her ground. “Maybe you can’t do it but I can. I want to do it.” 

Scorchplume took a deep breath, studying her, and eventually sighed, “Alright, fine. But I’ll be there with you.” 

“Alright,” Fogpaw nodded. “I’m okay with that.” Scorchplume sighed again. 

They went hunting after that, a lazy trip that didn’t bring back much prey, but Fogpaw was happy they did. By the time they got back to camp, Scorchplume didn’t seem so grumpy and that made her feel a lot better. She thought over the things she wanted to say to Ghost as she groomed herself and headed to bed, rehearsing different approaches and wondering how he would react to them. Her anger didn’t go away but it settled, at least for the moment, content to lie in waiting. 

She sat with it until she fell asleep, brought solace by its company.

[patheticlittlemen]

That Day (part 1) [The Spot x Reader]

the idea for this fic was inspired by @trenchcoatbees :)

“Alchemax accident ends in loss and destruction.”

The same dream you’ve had for months plays out in front of you again. 

“John? Johnathan!”

You run through the darkness of the rubble, searching for the one person you called your friend. If you had just been there that day, maybe things would have been different.

“Johnathan!”

You sob as your legs start to feel heavy and you’re unable to run any further, but still force your legs to push forward.

I just have to keep going. He’s here, I know it.

All of a sudden you trip on something and feel yourself falling for what feels like forever before waking up with a start.

Fuck. 

You groan as you try and drag yourself out of bed, the pain of a headache rushing in as soon as you become vertical. Shuffling over to your bathroom and almost tripping over the multitude of empty bottles scattered on the floor, you reach into the medicine cabinet and scowl at yourself in the mirror. After throwing on the cleanest clothes you can find, you pack your bag and head out.

You used to ride this same bus every morning to work. Just sitting in the seat you used to brings back so many memories of better times, which nowadays you try to drown out with loud music. The city passes by and you stare at all the buildings flying past, wondering if Johnathan is anywhere within them.

The bus stops with a squeak and you walk to the exit, hopping out and walking to your former workplace. Every day since the accident, you visited. Passing by the countless missing person flyers you put up, you pray that maybe today he would be there. It was an unrealistic hope, but you’re trying to be optimistic.

John would’ve wanted me to be.

The workers clearing up the area gave sympathetic smiles as you passed by. They allowed you to use Johnathan’s office to set up camp for your search, just as long as you stayed in that area. You had snuck out a couple of times to try and find hints in the ruins but found no luck. You were also scolded by the workers when you tripped over what looked like a burnt bagel and got scraped up, so you stuck to where you were allowed.

Breathing in deeply, you reach out and turn the handle of the door marked “Johnathan Ohnn”. The room was cold as usual, and you step in and place your bag on the floor before sitting in the old office chair John refused to remove that still had his jacket hanging off the back.

Reaching into your bag, you grab a piece of paper that was messily shoved to the bottom. You look up at the desk where you had put together a small shrine for your friend. It included a photo you forced John to take with you during an office party that he got framed, his leather-bound journal, a candle from a vigil held for the deaths caused by the accident, and all of the encouraging sticky notes you had written each other during work.

“Hey, Johnny.” You pause and laugh a little. “You know, no matter how much I do this, speaking to a photo will never not feel weird.”

You sit in silence, fiddling with the piece of paper covered in your scrawled handwriting and eraser marks, now being dampened by the sweat on your hands. Taking a deep breath in, you speak to the photo again.

“I wrote this. You know I’m not great at speeches, so…be nice. If you are somehow here and hearing this, which is highly unlikely, just know I wanted to say all of this to you. I was planning on it, actually, when you- nevermind.” You clear your throat and breathe deeply, closing your eyes as you exhale and re-opening them to read your paper.

“Johnathan Ohnn, you are one of the best men I’ve met. You’re super smart, more than I could ever be, and you’re really funny. You’re also incredibly handsome- not just by scientist standards like you insist, though. Just in like, regular standards. You’re attractive.” Tears well up in your eyes and your voice begins to waver as you read on. 

“I miss you more and more with each passing day. You were one of the only people I could call a friend, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say I’d fallen in love with you. I’ll never forgive myself for being gone that day, and the nightmares are a constant reminder that maybe things would have gone differently if I had come to work. You almost never took days off, and the only times you did is when I forced you to because you came in sick. You loved your job, and your enthusiasm for science spread to me and gave me hope that things might get better for me. You made my world brighter, and I swear to you I will find you. I know you’re out there somewhere, I can just feel it. And if I do find you, the first thing I’m going to do is tell you how much I love you.” By the time you finished reading, tears had stained the page and your hands were trembling. Dryly laughing, you wipe the tears from your face and look back at the photo.

“So yeah. I love you, Johnny. I’d do anything in the world to hear your voice, to smell your cologne, to get one of your amazing hugs again. If you ever feel like coming back, I’ll take you out for coffee.” At this point you begin sobbing and drag yourself onto the floor, pulling the jacket slung on the chair with you. It hasn’t smelled like John for a while, but just the memory of him wearing it comforted you as you slung it along your shoulders.

Your body shakes with sobs as you face the facts: John has been gone for months and you’ve had no sign of him. You’ve exhausted every resource available, and even when you finally managed to speak with Spiderman, he was pulled away by some stupid villain. You place your head between your legs as you try and catch your breath when you hear a familiar “pop” sound. Every time you’ve visited for the past few weeks you hear it, assuming it was something the workers were doing. This time, it startled you and you jump up, ready to fight whatever creature you imagined appeared. Of course, there was nothing, and you’re left trying to catch your breath after the scare. Movement by the shrine catches your eye, and you see a piece of paper by the journal that you hadn’t seen before.

Trying to reassure yourself that it was there before and you just didn’t notice it, you walk over to it and pick it up with shaking hands.

I miss you too

Your stomach drops and you want to scream. An overwhelming wave of fear, hope, disgust, and panic rushes over you as you start to hyperventilate.

“Is this some sick joke? Fuck you. Fuck you, I’m just trying to find my friend!” Panting and frantically scanning the room trying to find the source of the paper, you sob and angrily threaten the intruder. 

“It’s not a joke.”

A voice behind you makes you scream and you begin to turn, ready to fight despite your lack of any real ability to incapacitate anybody.

“Don’t turn around, I don’t want to scare you.” The voice frantically says and you freeze.

“As if you didn’t fucking scare me already, jackass! I don’t have anything you’d want, I promise.” You try and keep up a tough facade, despite the obvious sobs taking over your body.

“I don’t want anything from you, I just needed to see you again. I couldn’t keep watching you from afar, not when you’re crying over me like that. Not after that speech.” The voice is beginning to sound familiar and you fight the intruder’s orders, turning around and facing the stranger.

“I just told you not to do that, you never listen to me!” The stranger continues to chastise you as you take in his appearance- tall and lanky, all white except for the black spots littering his skin. He has no face, just another black spot in the middle of where his face should have been.

“-I mean, I was doing it for your own good, but it seems that you don’t care all that much.” As soon as you tune back into the stranger’s berating you, something clicks. A sob escapes your mouth as your head spins.

“See, now there’s a reaction. I told you not to-” The stranger stops abruptly as you run into him, almost knocking him over and wrapping your arms around him.

“Johnny…” is all that manages to escape your mouth as you sob.

“You…recognize me?” You nod into his chest as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you.

“I’ve been looking for you.” You whisper.

“I know. I didn’t know what to say to you, or I would have come sooner. I’m so sorry.” His grasp on you tightens and his hand reaches up to stroke your hair. 

You stay in the embrace, holding on as if when you let go you’ll he’ll be gone again. When John finally lets go, you grab hold of his hands and look at his face. At least, where his face should have been. Despite what should have been a frightening appearance, all you feel is joy. Your friend and the one person you’ve loved is back, and you don’t care what he looks like.

“Hey, don’t you have something to say to me?” John asks, cocking his head.

“Do I?” You sniffle.

“You know, that you love me or something…” John teases. 

“Okay, yeah, I did say that.” You laugh and roll your eyes.

“I was gonna confess my love for you that day. After work.” John says quietly.

“I wish I had been there. Things might have gone differently, I could have helped…” You’re cut off by John shaking his head.

“It wasn’t anything you could have stopped.”

“But I still could have been there for you.” Tears fall down your face as you reach up and place your hand on John’s cheek.

“You’re here now.”

“And you’re here now.” A grin spreads across your face and you wrap your arms around John once more. “I love you, Johnny.”

“I love you too.” John pulls away and takes a seat on the office chair. “Now, it seems we have some…catching up to do.”

[butterflywithsass]

Watched Dead Boy Detectives last night and I’m obsessed. If you like the queerness of good omens, but with more gore, and in the same universe as the Sandman (death and despair both show up) if you like dark academia gay boys, if you like ghosts, or paranormal stuff, or demons, if you like cats — lemme tell you this show is for you.

So, like, there’s these two ghost boys who are best friends but also gay for each other but also a secret third thing and their names are Edwin and Charles.

Edwin Payne was a demonic sacrifice in 1916 and as spend literal decades in hell but escaped. He’s a repressed Victorian gay who has zero charisma but every single man he meets becomes obsessed with him and wants to sleep with him except the boy he actually likes which is his best friend Charles. His entire character arc is about gay panic and getting over his internalized homophobia — he wears bow ties!!!! He doesn’t know what a hand job is. He’s literally the perfect tumblr blorbo. His superpower is getting tortured. He’s so sassy! His sexual awakening comes at the hands of a cat king and his first kiss is with a crow.

Charles died in like the 90s or something I’m not sure. He’s so optimistic and sunshine but also so full of rage. He’s the most supportive guy 100/10 would trust him with anything. He doesn’t like to talk about his issues. When confronted with the inexorable monsters of hell he solved the problem with a Molotov cocktail. I love him and his single earring he’s a golden retriever who would rather stay on earth with best friend than move on to a peaceful afterlife. His jawline is impeccable he can’t not press a big red button when he sees it.

Crystal Palace I wasn’t sold on because I thought she’d get between my boys but she actually so cool and I developed a bit of a crush let’s be honest I have a thing for curly haired witchy girls, she’s a physic with amnesia and a demon stalker ex boyfriend people stare at her when she hangs out with the boys cause it looks like she’s talking to herself. Everyone she knows thinks she’s insane. She’s a reformed mean girl.

Niko Sisaki I was a little iffy about because it felt like they were gonna go with the bimbo anime Asian girl but turns out she just had a parasite that made pink hearts float around her. She’s so weird she tries to help Edwin with his gay problem by introducing him to explicit gay fan fiction, she tries to get her landlord to date, she likes cool rocks. She has two tiny people trapped in a jar in her room. Her friendship with Edwin is everything. She’s ghosting her mom.

Jenny. I love her so much, she feels so safe which is weird because she chops meat and all her clothes are covered in blood. Everything about just screams big sister and her character arc is learning to embrace that. She goes on one date and almost gets murdered.

Monty. He’s literally a crow turned into a boy. He’s down bad for Edwin. He’s a secret honeypot agent for an evil witch. He has the most adorable smile, the whole time I was expecting him to be an agent of Morpheus. He’s obsessed with astrology.

The Night nurse originally annoyed me a bit (in a good way) I just wanted to get rid of her. When Charles punted her into a giant sea monster I clapped. Then it just got weird and I love it.

The cat king. He’s such a creep, but honestly, I love that for him. He has some of the best lines and he just exudes cat. He’s a classic fairy tale trickster, he a nuisance for the whole season, he’s central to the plot, he’s constantly hitting on Edwin.

Esther. She’s a archetypal evil witch. She gives off mystic trash vibes. She’s obsessed with beauty and revenge. She’s shamelessly horrible. She feeds kids to her giant snake. She literally can’t die.

All in all, I think I’m gonna have brain rot over this for the next year, go and watch it.

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Friendly Fire

Author’s Note: Hello, again! I’d like to thank everyone who liked, commented, and shared my first little project. The love it received was overwhelming for a newbie to the fanfic scene, and I’m so grateful for the input and encouragement. This story takes place in the same timeline as my first installation, so if you haven’t had a chance to read Homeward Bound yet, you can find it here. Don’t worry, though! There won’t be a specific timeline to follow. The idea is to give little glimpses into an established relationship, so you’re not missing anything (yet!). We started with a reunion, so it only seems fair to take it back to where it all began. I can’t wait for everyone to meet the new woman in Sy’s life. Happy reading!  Summary: Last night, Syverson met the love of his life. If only he could remember it. Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC  Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol consumption and weapons, adult language, and (almost) implied smut. Sy is his own warning. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

“Oh, fuck me,” Sy groaned to himself. He threw a heavy arm over his face and sighed, doing his best to block out the sun as it creeped in through the blinds, but resistance was futile. Stupidly optimistic birds chirped their early morning songs, each shrill call rattling around in his skull like an angry swarm of wasps, wild and pissed off. His body felt heavy, his joints ached, and his stomach churned. “I’m gettin’ too old fer this shit.” 

Sy could handle a little hangover. He’d done it before, and Lord know’s he’d do it again. In truth, he’d been burning the candle at both ends since he’d made it home. Sy hadn’t taken a leave since his first year in the military. His reasoning? 30 days go by too quick, no use in getting comfortable somewhere just to pack up and ship out again. This time though, he’d decided that he’d earned a bit of a break. That, and his mama was threatening to cut him out of the will if he didn’t show his face at least once this year. Not that he’d get much, of course; that wasn’t the principle of her empty threats. He knew it just as well as she did. She was starting to get up there in age, and time waits for no one. Especially not for Clayton Syverson. 

Groaning softly, he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, heavy limbs moving a little slower than usual this morning. He stretched and yawned, balling up a fist to rub the sleep from his bleary eyes. A thought crossed his mind as he worked to get those old bones moving again and he stopped dead in his tracks, hand still over his left eye and mouth still agape. “Wait…how the fuck did I make it home?”

Sy took stock of the room around him. At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of place. Everything was just as he’d left it. The tops of the dresser and chest of drawers were bare, as was the nightstand. The laundry basket that sat atop the trunk at the foot of the bed was still there, filled with neatly rolled t-shirts, socks, and skivvies. The only things that seemed to be out of sorts were his bed (since he hadn’t had the chance to make it yet), and his jeans that laid crumpled on the floor at his feet. “Weird,” he mused, and pushed himself to stand. Padding off to the bathroom for that blissful first piss of the day, he lifted the seat on the commode to relieve himself. Hold on. Lift the toilet seat? He hadn’t had to do that since he left home, nearly a decade ago. 

“What the fuck is goin’ on, now?” Must’ve been a visit from the toilet seat fairy, since he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had stepped foot into this old house. Sy could feel the hair on the back of his neck start to prickle up as he washed his hands. When his eyes found his reflection in the mirror above the sink, he had to talk himself down again. 

“Get a grip, dickhead. No one broke in just ta’ use the can.” Wandering back out to the bedroom, he’d almost made it out into the hallway, when he’d heard it. One more step, and he might’ve missed it. The soft creak of old floorboards below gave him another moment of pause. Sy held his breath as he listened intently for a moment, almost willing the house to groan again under the shift of weight. Nothing. A rush of wind left his chest as he sighed and shook his head. He swore himself off of corn liquor, never again, and took the stairs two at a time on his way down to raid the fridge for something to eat. “Hmm…somethin’ smells good. Is that–”  Bacon. That ain’t no toilet fairy down there. Someone’s here.

Soft, tranquil humming echoed down the hall. Whoever it was seemed to like Fleetwood Mac, as they aimlessly flipped slice after slice of pork products into his skillet. A loud pop of grease made him, and the intruder, flinch. “Oww! Shit!” Then the tap squeaked, followed by the sound of rushing water, and Sy thanked God that he hadn’t had time to fix it yet. Good. He knew this old farmhouse like the back of his hand, so he knew exactly where the stranger would be standing when he'd walk in. They’d have their back to him, and he’d have the upper hand. Reaching blindly into the armoire to his right, he drew the revolver from the false bottom of the drawer and peaked around the corner of the doorframe. His thumb hovered over the hammer, ready to cock it, when what he saw gave him pause. Who he saw, was more like it. 

“I know you.” The words came tumbling out before he could stop them. Her head snapped up from the sink as she turned towards the sound of his voice. She was just as startled as he was. 

“Well, I sure hoped you would.” 

Turning off the tap and reaching for a towel to dab at her scalded hand, she leaned against the counter like she owned the place. Her hair spilled down her shoulders and back in effortless, mahogany waves. The shirt she wore was stolen, and wrinkled from sleep. The logo was faded yet unmistakable, and the hem fell to about the middle of her sunkissed thigh. Why was she wearing his Skynard shirt? She watched as his eyes grew wide with realization, and it made her laugh. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy,” the intruder smirked, and lifted up the shirt to reveal a pair of cut off levis beneath it. “You sure tried like hell, but…nothing happened. How’s the head?” 

Visions of last night’s bonfire flashed through his mind. It felt like flipping through a stack of polaroids. Everything was blurry, all soft and fuzzy at the corners. One minute, he was leaning against the tailgate of his truck, nursing a beer and watching as his friends acted a’fool. The next, Johnny was passing around a quart of his homemade moonshine and calling him a pussy for trying to turn it down.  Damnit, Johnny. Sy recalled that the eyes that stared him down from across the room now were the same ones that gleamed at him in the warmth of the flames that flickered between them the night before. If only he could remember how they got there. 

As if to read his mind, she nodded as she spoke, returning to the stove just in time to salvage the last of the bacon. “You, uh…you went a little hard with that paint thinner Johnny had. I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright. Hope that’s okay.”  Sy licked his lips slowly as he processed what she was trying to say, then gave a short nod. He removed his finger from the trigger and tucked the gun away again as smoothly as possible. He didn’t want to spook her. She made him breakfast, after all. 

“Right. Thank ya, Miss.” Deeming it safe again, he crossed the threshold into the kitchen and watched as she turned off the flame beneath the cast iron on the stovetop. He felt out of place, like he should be doing something to help, so he crossed the room to grab the orange juice from the fridge. 

“Merrin,” she finished for him, then reiterated. “I’m Merrin. And you’re…Sy? That's what they call you, right?” For the first time all day, Sy cracked a crooked smile her way and pulled down two clean glasses from the cabinet beside the sink. 

“Yes ma’am, but my mama named me Clay.” 

“Clay. Got it.”

Breakfast was served, and the two strangers sat down to eat it. Merrin filled him in on what he missed from the night before. Johnny bet Sarah that she couldn’t shotgun a beer faster than he could. He lost. Petey and Melissa snuck off to the woods to skinny dip in the creek and came back with poison oak in some pretty intimate places. Roscoe passed out in the grass, and Luke and James had to carry him back to the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Saturday night in rural Texas. He asked about her, where she came from and what she was doing in his neck of the woods. She told him how she’d moved to town about six months ago, how she’d bought that cute little split level on the corner of Oak and Adams street. All Sy heard, though, was that he could’ve been sitting here with her six months ago. Maybe he outta come home more often.

–

“So,” he started, rinsing the suds from the face of his plate as he stood at the sink. They’d demolished that stack of bacon and eggs and were working to clean up after themselves. “How’d you end up in my shirt?”

Merrin smirked as she dried a glass and tucked it away again. “You don’t remember?” She was all too pleased to share this story. Sy laughed a deep, hearty chuckle that rattled loudly in his broad chest and shook his head. 

“Well…” she teased. “We’d been staring at each other most of the night. I’d been waiting for you to introduce yourself, but after a while, I just thought I must’a looked funny or somethin’.” 

“Mhm…” he hummed, his eyes never once leaving hers. He’d had a cup of coffee and a handful of Advil with his toast, so things were a little clearer now. He remembered watching her from afar as she chatted and giggled with her friends. He remembered thinking he’d want to remember the way she looked when she smiled his way. How he wanted to remember the way the light danced in her eyes when she laughed. She continued before he could ask her to carry on.

“When you finally got the courage to make a move, you decided that I looked a little thirsty. You grabbed me a beer, crossed the yard, tripped over a tree limb, and…poured it down my back.”

Sy winced. Surely she must be joking. One look at the smile on her face told him that she wasn’t, and he groaned. “Well shit, sugar. I’m real sorry. At least let me–”

“It’s already in the dryer. Don’t worry, big guy. You can pay me back when you take me out to dinner Friday night.” She gave a playful pat to his chest and grinned, brushing by him on her way to clear the rest of the table. Sy turned to follow her, his eyes grazing over the curve of her backside as she bent down to grab a napkin from the floor. He smiled, stacked the plate into the strainer and tossed a dish towel over his shoulder. 

“Sounds like a plan, darlin’.”

[wulvercazz]

🌃Street Horrors☠️

a bit of a flashback for part 2💕

Previous~

It wouldn't have been so weird to find a person in such a state, Ichigo's horrified to admit; not here on the ground level of the city. His heart stopping in his throat for the half second that he catches glimpse of the sorry figure hidden behind the trash. He's actually far more shocked that what he's found, gutted and dismembered in the middle of an alley, is actually a very unique looking android. Something with this technology isn't usually discarded in such a place.

It takes him a whole four hours to go home for his dolly cart and back and forth three full trips to bring back the broken thing in pieces; unable to carry more than a fraction of the incredibly heavy machinery at a time on his own.

It sits sadly, silently. Even more disfigured now that he had to bring it in three pieces into the garage he calls a home. Something about it rubs him off in the wrongest of ways... Spare parts, is what it is. He reminds himself. Nothing more. Tomorrow, after some severely needed sleep, he'll finish dismounting it to it's core pieces to use for future repair jobs and that sorry sleeping face won't haunt him any longer.

He sleeps that night's exhaustion till noon, and is almost surprised to find the thing still sitting in the same spot he left him. Still sleeping, still sad looking. Androids he's seen in the expensive, more vast, part of the city have plain and clean looks. Friendly in the way that an appliance looks friendly. The way this thing appears to sorrowfully take up space is fucking with his perception of it.

But he's not about to stop himself from doing his job simply because this creepy rich people's toy is disturbingly more human-like than anything he's seen.

Ichigo sets his tools and a makeshift stool at a reach-appropriate height near the android, safety wear in place in case this thing runs on some kind of fuel that he wouldn't want near his eyes. It's so badly broken up, and so much different to anything else he's worked with, that he's got no other choice but to take his time investigating it all over. Following the jumble of gut-like cables that spill out of its abdominal cavity, poking at what he supposes is a very large and empty memory port right in its middle. Whatever an android would need such a powerful core for he's got no clue, and honestly, he'd rather not know. The government doesn't keep a full control of all Android unit production for no reason; he's not about to dive into conspiracy theories... but there's a reason for everything- and they tend to have the worst of them.

Bits and pieces and more length of cable shuffle about as he works, perhaps he was being too optimistic last night, thinking it'd dissassemble so easy. He changes tools with a huff, reaching behind the memory port to poke at whatever it's attached to and a dim light blinks on right above his face. Ichigo's heart drops down to his stomach and then punches him in the throat until a loud startled gasp threatens to choke him, right until the fight or flight freezes on a continuous and alarmed confusion; the thing's eyes are open and staring right at him in a chilling glowing blue.

"Get your grubby fucking hands off me." A hoarse, messed up, voice says with a hard set brow and tight broken up jaw.

The tools clank and clatter into the floor messily, and the box and tool box he'd been sitting on shuffle with a screech when he backs off as much as he can without stumbling onto his ass. "Y-you- you're- I thought- your consciousness works."

"Enough to know I don't care for a scrawny little boy feeling me up."

Ichigo has a hard time choosing whether to be pissed at the obvious offenses or to freak about how this thing is throwing sass and insults in his face in the first place. Androids 'learn' from their first owners what will become part of their personality later on; absorbing the words and mannerisms, the inside jokes as much as they retain their owners' likes and needs, and fit them along their fabrication conduct protocols. To better relate to their human, of course. He's never seen an android learn personality quite like this, never heard an android complain, or have preferences and wants of its own. Never heard one come up with an insult on the spot in a voice that didn't sound like a mere echo, a regurgitated string of words it's heard many times before.

It's almost... like a human is sitting in pieces right before him.

Next~

[erosastro]

My favourite sign(s) for each planet(or asteroid) 💕

💕Sun - Aries, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius and Capricorn. I love an Aries friend they are so full of energy and fun to be around and they give the best advice. Libras are so easy to talk to and get along with. Aquarius people are just as weird as me and make you feel comfortable to be yourself. Sagittarius people are funny as hell there's never a dull moment with them and Capricorn Suns are the sweetest souls.

💕Moon - Cancer, Aquarius, Leo and Gemini - I'm absolutely in love with cancer Moons there's just something about them I am so drawn to. Aquarius Moons I get along with really well bc my own moon is in Aquarius so I never feel like I'm over sharing or I'm over emotional because they get it. Leo Moons are underrated, I think they're so optimistic and wonderful. Gemini Moons are funny and know how to cheer someone up.

💕Mercury - Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius and Leo. Gemini and Virgo Mercury placements are so smart and having conversations with them is so refreshing. Sagittarius mercury are fun to talk to and so open-minded. Leo mercuries are dramatic as hell it's quite entertaining.

💕Venus - Aquarius, Cancer, Scorpio, Leo - Aquarius venus placements know the balance between showering you with love and giving you your space. Cancer venus... they love like no other and same with Scorpio. I'm again soooo drawn to scorpio venus placements it's insane. Leo venus placements are super sweet and soft and romantic but fun at the same time. They keep you on your toes.

💕Mars - Scorpio, Virgo, Sagittarius - Scorpio Mars are probably the most determined people I've ever met, they know what they want and how to get it done. Virgo Mars... I really can't explain this one tbh but it's so common in people closest to me. They're silently quite dangerous (in a good way and bad way lol). Sagittarius Mars are optimistic and really ambitious, it's really attractive

💕Juno - Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius - Leo specifically in people I've been with romantically probably because my own juno is Sagittarius, so we naturally click. I'm super attracted to Scorpio juno placements though and I do not know why lol. most of crushes and closest friends have this. if my friends don't have Scorpio juno they have aquarius juno lmao

💕Lilith - Aries, Gemini, Scorpio - Scorpio and Aries lilith yall are nasty af I love it so much lmao. I somehow find myself surrounded by gemini lilith placements and I have no idea why but they're so free-spirited and open-minded and super flexible (in more ways than one lol).

💕Risings - Taurus, Gemini, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius and Pisces - listen man I can't stand pisces placements for the most part but I won't lie, two of my closest friends are Pisces risings, we just click well. Taurus risings, they're so pretty man and they're so easy to talk to once you start the conversation though lol. Gemini risings and Aquarius risings are unabashedly themselves, and they are LOUD lol. Leo risings are the bad bitches you wanna be friends with. Scorpio risings once again, idk what's with you Scorpio risings, yall seem hard but are such softies and so sensitive, I adore you.

[txttletale]

(Other than the really weird bit about "Male presenting Doctor") what were your thoughts about the specials?

pretty mixed bag, pretty messy, but good overall. i think they were very obviously a nostalgia trip for people around my age lol and it worked! i loved seeing tennant and tate back onscreen together, their chemistry hasn't aged a bit, and honestly just watching doctor who that wasn't written by chris chibnall was a breath of fresh air. they weren't boring, like seasons 11 and 12 were, and they didn't go too far off the other end into nonsense like flux did. characters want things again! the show can let itself just be silly! i was literally cheering out loud when donna and the doctor were just saying random scifi gobbledegook at each other for like a solid several minutes during the star beast.

the structure of the specials kind of baffles me. i love wild blue yonder--i think it's definitively the best of the specials as a standalone, it's absolutely fantastic, creepy and atmospheric and bringing things around to RTD's strength, which is well-written characters interacting with each other and letting good actors just act. but at the same time i dont understand why it exists? it feels like...idk. imagine if you watched the star wars original trilogy but instead of the empire strikes back the middle film was just a feature length film about luke and han surviving on an ice planet with no reference to anything that happens in the last film except the two characters' relationship. and then the next film was still return of the jedi, unchanged. it felt like that

i liked all the weird campy silliness of the star beast and the giggle, and they were both very fun! neil patrick harris gave a fantastic performance, there are a lot of very memorable sequences from the giggle, but it's very very all over the place. so many threads get kind of picked up and go nowhere. the toymaker's haunted house dimension goes nowhere. RTD's eyerolling social media commetnary goes nowhere (thank god tbh but yknow im illustrating something here). even the toymaker kind of goes nowhere, after ncuti gatwa shows up he's bascially an afterthought who loses by dropping a ball. obvious parallels to david tennant's first episode with that ball scene could be made, but just... aren't. it feels like load-bearing sectikons of the plot and themes were cut out to make room for a backdoor pilot for the stupid fucking UNIT spinoff

oh and it goes without saying i fucking hate all the UNIT wank in the star beast and the giggle. i hope space nine eleven 2 happens to their stupid fucking avengers tower i cannot stand kate stewart who is constantly a murderous bonehead (in the giggle alone she gets two pepole killed by not listening to the doctor and assuming that this teleporting godlike entity could be restrainted by Two Guys) who is both in and out of universe just a boring nepo baby with no merit of her own

um. i still dont know what happened with the regeneration. i think the implication is that when david tennant dies hell time travel back to become ncuti gatwa inside himself--at least the rehab dialogue seems to make that implication. but it's not really explained or explored? baffling. i do think that fourteen getting to settle down and live a peaceful life with his friends is cute.

oh yeah and the ask said other than that but goddd there was some good stuff in the star beast and honestly with the state of the UK media i will take any perspective on trans people that includes baseline human erespect but some of those lines made me cringe so bad. anyway overall i am cautiously optimistic for the future of the show--oh ncuti was fucking great did i mention that i instantly bnought him as the doctor he owned the scene, the moment he was there it was clear he was the protagonist, and i liked the church on ruby road well enough too--i am cautiously optimistic but i worry that a big UNIT-shaped tumor will devour huge chunks of it and it'll be annoying. also russel t davies is like 60 and i just dont want to hear what he has to say about twitter so im not looking forward to dot and bubble

[punkeropercyjackson]

Imma try to chill so that instead of raging,i can just explain this politely:If you're in the Batfam fandom or are interested in joining,please be respectful of the Batkids' canon characterization and stories with exception of the offensive bits because that way,you will be able to fully appreciate and enjoy them as characters and get along with long time fans too as they'll appreciate you for it since Batfanon is so overwhelmingly popular and you'll be helping combat it

You want a ray of sunshine optimist who's actually realistic instead of a cornball and has depth and layers and is beloved by everyone in the DC world?Read for Dick but avoid Tom Taylor and Devin Grayson as their writing of him is extremely ableist,misogynistic(see Babs' character regression for his sake and the 'disposable black love interest' trope times 10x towards Kory)and anti-romani with Taylor being a whole ass zionist and Devin only made Dick romani to fetishize him and wrote canon Batcest and even other pedo ships.She has since apologized for the latter so Batcels can't use her as validation

You want a goth boyloser who's a lone wolf and has an awful relathionship with Bruce where both feelings are completely justified but he himself is morally gray and treated as such rather than coddled?Read for Jason but avoid og Rhato because it's a shitfest that screws over everybody involved including Jason himself and nobody who likes it cares about him at all since it's the worst thing to ever happen to him,INCLUDING The Joker.He was also textually miserable the whole time and is way happier with his new cast on top of being better written

You want a relatable teenage boy who's a positive role model for irl ones and is canonically into dudes and can be the token normie that reacts to the weirdness of his family for jokes?Read for Tim and please don't believe anyone who tries to tell you he's a bad person or a raging misogynist because they're the same niggas who stan Jason the ex-serial killer and Slade the pedophile who's child abuse even of the non-sexual kind is his defining character trait as stated by Marv Wolfman,who MADE him.He's literally just a 17 year old boy who's not perfect and people are just ageist and generally hateful.Everybody should care about Tim Drake /ref

You want a strong female character who's genuinely super weird and real and does justice for the girls that don't fit in and are abused by men but is also really funny and feminine?Read for Stephanie and don't buy into the bullshit propaganda DC keeps trying to keep selling since her debut that she's 'just a girl' or somehow less hardcore than the Batboys or ESPECIALLY the fandom's emphasization of her blondeness when she got it from her abusive dad and has never shown pride in it and was never an 'It Girl',she was the school outcast at ALL her schools,including college.Just because Stephanie Brown is a white girl that dosen't mean she's a white feminist or a prop or basic-She's literally a pastel punk who has a Metalica poster in her room ffs

You want a wasian with gender fuckery who was raised to be a weapon and had no parents until Bruce adopted her and became super human through crazy ass means and is a mega cool edgecase?Read for Cass and keep in mind she was created with the intention of defying easian woman stereotypes,including existing for white men and nothing else and that includes not forcing her to like Jason or steal her Shiva origin to give it to him and as an afro-dominicana,Jason feels more afro-dominican than he does anything else and we HAVE an asian Jason Variant but he was south asian,specifically indian and not easian/chinese so it's even more orientalist than before with Sanjay Tawde's canonicity in mind(He is from The Doom That Came To Gotham for anyone interested)

You want a brown boy raised by a bad organization he has complex ties to because his connection comes from his family who is very much a little shit and anger filled but also a sweetheart who's truly trying his best?Read for Damian but keep in mind he's a victim of anti-arab writers,he's not a demon or a villain or an animal-He's just a hurt little boy who's almost never known anything but pain and being seen as a monster compared to white boys and that's why so many Damian stans are so grateful for Flatline/Nika because she loves him as much as we do and gives him the TLC we wish we could(platonically in our case but still)

You want a troubled but good kid who has god-like superpowers and loves to run his mouth,gives Bruce's headaches with his shenanigans and is not only an unconventional Robin but Jason's Robin and vice versa?Read for Duke and don't even look in the general direction of runs that leave him out-Which do the other Batboys dirty too every time anyway!!Duke has refered to Bruce as his dad and Bruce has refered to Duke as his son and ALL the Batkids see him as their brother and the poor guy feels left out of them because DC are a bunch of antiblack pieces of shit who baited us with the first ever black Robin just to exclude him for his blackness and act like they were being 'careful'.Nah,FUCK that-If Cass can be respectfully written as Bruce's kid,so can Duke!He don't got parents either,the ogs got Jokerized and Gnomom is emotionally abusive and he's literally a minor!

And they're just the core Batkids!!!If you're looking for another type of character,then they definitely exist and i'd be happy to tell you who fits it so i can tell you what to read/watch/play for them!Trying to switch the Batkids CAN be good depending on how you do it but 99% of the time it's just bigotry!REAL bigotry minorities can't stop dealing with just by logging off and fandom is supposed to be a safe space for weirdos-Not 'nerds',WEIRDOS.Black people and woc and mentally ill people and autistics and abusive survivors and EVERYONE,not just stupid ass kinksters that think kink is inherently anti-establishment and white people who had 'hateful ideology phases' and think it's universal and play victim when told otherwise

'All Batboys are trans and autistic!'but then they leave out the most autistic-coded and tboy swag filled Batboy just because he's black and use the 'mains' excuse when they've never read enough comics to know that became a thing,that it wasn't always a thing and that it dosen't make SENSE for it to be a thing.'All Batkids are/do [x]' but they leave out the girls even though 'Batkids' is the gender neutral term as it's meant to refer to the whole gang.Do not fall for it.They're about as gooth faith as 'Allmighty God Superman who fucks all the women' dudebros.Please be kind and be a real superhero fan by reading the comics so you can join us in dunking on them.Please,you'll be doing the comics fandom a lot of good and you might even help influence the comics industry itself because it responds to mass fan appeal way far back and that's how we got a fair amount of runs and adaptions we do today and yesterday and tommorow.I promise it'll be infinitely more fun than fanon too

[godisshook]

Big Red

Ethan had been my boyfriend for years, and it seemed as if I were locked in with him, even going as so far as to make life plans. We communicated and understood what each other wanted out of a relationship, we truly meshed. We had been friends since childhood, and when I came out to him, he did as well, and that was history. He would grow to become your classic student-athlete, playing every sport he could, and having tons of extracurriculars. I did band and orchestra, and adored science.

As we got to senior year of high school, I noticed something weird. Ethan would focus on the gym more and more, and he would comment on how "small" he was, comparing himself to everyone else. No matter how much I would reassure him, he always felt small, comparing himself to the biggest in the gym, who were usually grown men. My protests fell on deaf ears, however, and he became hell-bent on becoming bigger.

When we got into freshman year of college, he would be at his worst when it came to his perception of his body, and that came because of his new frat president, Jaime. He joined Greek life as he felt it was a way to build bonds. The president was the biggest guy in the frat, and would constantly show his dominance over Ethan, calling him a "bitchboy" and "Little Red." I tried to keep his mood up, but it was clear he was at a low.

We were set to go to a Christmas party held by his frat, and as I get dolled up, he comes to pick me up, feeling good and generally optimistic. When we get to the party, the pledges at the gate eye me up, and I glare at them back. As the night goes on, I feel the need to stave off sobriety, so I decided to go to get a white claw from the bar. The frat guy running the bar hands me a drink and points to my left, I immediately notice the president himself walking up to me, and telling me to "come upstairs."

The walk up two flights of stairs was definitely difficult, but as we make it up, I notice a couple of the other brothers and Ethan. The president takes off his shirt and looks over at Ethan. "We don't do hazing, but just know I can always take your bitch!" As he says this, he pulls my head down to his boxers and pulls them down, beckoning me to suck his cock. As I look at Ethan pleadingly, he stares straight at the president, with a look that could kill him dead. I was ashamed after that night, but Ethan continued to reassure me, and said, "It's just how the frat rolls."

I soon became responsible for building his diet, and because I was planning on becoming an Exercise Science major, he would jokingly call himself my "guinea pig" as I would test diets and exercise methods on him. He got bigger fast, almost too fast. He started lifting more and became obsessed with his body, we barely even talked as he would spend most of his days in the gym.

We got our own apartment off-campus, and I would still try to cook for him, and he would show his appreciation by fucking my brains out. Things were still great, though, and even as he spent most of his days in the gym, he would still make time for me.

Next year, he would become frat president, and Jaime would seemingly disappear, as he would stay a regular member. Ethan was the ultimate jock now, and he would use me whenever he wanted, calling me his "good boy."

One morning, I saw a new story post from Ethan's account. The guy in the background looks familiar, and as I search for his account, I realize it was the same guy at the party. I swipe up and ask, "Who's the guy taking ur pictures?" Ethan tells me, "I have this bitchboy taking my pictures just to be near my alpha pheromones." A realization hits me as I look closer at the photos, the guy taking the photos was none other than Jaime. Now, the guy who once towered over Ethan was taking his photos.

When I get back to our apartment that night, I see no other than Ethan in the living room, and he tells me to sit down. He explains that the sudden growth he achieved was because he took muscle from the president. As his alpha pheromones strengthened, he took more and more muscle from the frat members, until he became the biggest. Little Red was now Big Red, the most dominant guy in the frat, and the main jock of the school.

Now, he had beckoned me to his feet. I was to worship him now. He would lean back casually into the couch as I sucked on his cock slowly. Climbing up onto his cock filled me with joy, and as I bounce up and down on it, I would moan into the air, even as he would take his massive hands to block my mouth from moaning. He was laser-focused on fucking me, grunting, and pushing my body on his cock. His alpha pheromones flood my body, and I get even wetter.

He took pride in dominating me, and it felt as if he was letting out his rage at Jaime on me. I knew he wasn't really mad at me, but he certainly fucked like he was. His cock filled my whole completely, and he had to stuff it in as it was so massive. Cum filled my hole as he slammed my ass against his cock with his arms, and his dick would throb in my ass, getting cum deep in me.

I rolled over to the other side, and he hugs against me with just his boxers on. As I try to settle to sleep after he ravaged my hole, I feel a hard throb against my ass. Soon, his cock is peeking through his boxers, and by the time I look back, he's staring at me with hungry eyes, and I get wet once more. Looking at him, I can tell he's in a full rut, and he won't stop until he cums as much as it takes.

His cock slides in and out of me, and my body buckles against it. He puts my body into a full bear hug and rams his cock in and out of me. His hands go over my mouth once again, suppressing my moans. We fuck until cum is all over my body, and I lay near him, as he has finally ravaged me completely.

I dreamed of him, he was mine, and our memories together just kept expanding. Waking up in his bed, I get a familiar feeling, and look over to see Ethan gone. As I look around, I see him in the bathroom biting at my thong, "Nice thong, I see you went with green, a shame you’re not getting it back." I blush at the comment and use the comforter to cover myself as I get ready, next to Big Red himself.

[proserpinesprankster]

Talk about your fantrolls NOWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALRIGHTY BITCHES. So note that some have more iterations than others and im prolly gonna fix up the less refined ones AS I AM TALKING.

Ill add a cut because theres so fucking much of them.

Feel free to ask more questions i love my sillies!!!

Lets go in order of caste, therefore...

FIRST OF ALL! Nihila Umbrax, the Knight of Void, Derse sway, Burgundy Blood.

Nihila is a burgundy who was less fortunate at wriggling to say the least. They have multiple significant mutations, their eyes are solid red and their height is comparable to that of an older purpleblood, aswell as large mothlike wings. All of this and its seclusion in the woods has led to it being mystified as a local cryptid, the fact that its horns are shaped like antennae does not help the mothman allegations. Beneath all of this Nihila is overall just a big clumsy blind individual, they like to tinker with electronics and usually end up dumpster diving to salvage parts. They were most likely the troll who got SGrub up and working for the group, but its cryptid nature is not at all ceased during the game. Bowkind Strife.

Next we have Squash Tapeko, the Bard of Space, Prospit sway, Bronze Blood.

Squash is a bit of an anomaly in general, being that he operates outside of the typical laws of space and time. Paradox space and Squash get along like two peas in a pod, or more aptly two pumpkins in a patch, while normal space seems to avoid him like the plague. Hes always wearing those tacky shades that have the lines and stuff, and only has one horn which curls like a stem. Anyone accquainted with the laws of paradox space can tell in an instant this goofy goober is like a pumpkin given physical form. He likes to garden, usually growing squashes for later use as plot devices. Sodakind Strife.

Next! Aureum Crisia, the Maid of Light, Derse Sway, Gold Blood.

Aureum has little to no psiioniics despite being a goldblood, she's insecure for obvious reasons. She compensates with over the top optimism, though in truth she is a realist who never waits for things to fall into her hand. She has spent her whole life using charisma and wit to work her way into alternian business, despite the prejudice shown by higher classes. She can be a bit shady sometimes, but she refuses to take any disrespect. Coinkind Strife.

Beitah Bliuta, the Sylph of Breath, Prospit Sway, Olive Blood.

Beitah is close with Nihila, shes shared purr hive with them for as long as they can remember, practically siblings. Their hive is rudimentary regardless, mostly a well decorated cavern. Beitah is overall playful and childish, and the youngest of the group. She is also however a bit feral, for lack of a better word, most view purr as just overall weird for any of these things. Beitah is smaller than most of the others and wears baggy clothes constantly.

Raekie Venaer, the Rogue of Doom, Prospit Sway, Jade Blood.

Raekie likes to call themself a poet, followed by a murder of crow lusii constantly. They didn't favor life in the brooding caverns and instead live in a makeshift treehouse they ended up making after running away. They don't live in the same area as Beitah and Nihila but they do exchange tips through Trollian, and of course Raekie shares their cheesy poetry. Despite the gothic aesthetic Raekie is a terminal optimist, and knows good and well how cheesy their poetry is. Penkind Strife.

Terrun Biyiga, the Thief of Life, Prospit Sway, Teal Blood.

Terrun hates his own caste, plain and simple, mostly because of having lower class friends and realizing he was a part of the problem. He internalizes this hatred as of the start of the session, simply playing along. He has a certain level of internalized self hate, but covers all of this up with a hero complex and cowboy accent. Revolverkind Strife.

Now for a real interesting one, Celare Scurra, the Mage of Mind, Derse Sway, Cerulean Blood.

Celare Scurra is actually not 100% a troll. She always seems oddly well dressed, and never removes her gloves. On Derse, you may hear a whistling of a familiar tune, though back on Alternia it's less well known. Celare Scurra has joined The Midnight Crew on Derse. By some twist of fate, her body has a hint of Carapacian, which has shrouded half of her dreamself in black. She serves as a villain for this story, overall. Bit of a bitch, but unlike Vriska she doesn't flaunt it. Cardkind Strife.

Kirkor Stilis, the Heir of Heart, Prospit Sway, Indigo Blood.

Kirkor isn't the brightest, but he's sure lovable. Hes the only one even close to matching Nihila's height, and serves as Aureum's bodyguard at times as a result, warding off anyone who would threaten her due to his sheer scale. Theres some sort of moiraillegiac tension there, probably. Overall he serves as, well, the heart of the group. Hes also just very clumsy, someone give the 7 foot tall pair some dexterity. Hammerkind.

Manika Dexsue, the Witch of Hope, Derse Sway, Purple Blood.

Manika gets her kicks in a different way from most purplebloods, she usually only dresses up in the full clown getup for formal stuff. Normally shes wearing a dirty jumpsuit and rubber gloves with a purple gas mask, inviting Nihila over for their latest biomechanical experiment. Nibies' arm tends to end up the test subject. Manika is overall just a short mad scientist, and of course besties with Nihila. Sawkind / Needlekind Strife.

Sourim Paetel, the Seer of Blood, Derse Sway, Violet Blood.

Sourim is a socially inept hopeless romantic. He knows how to interact with high troll society... And thats about it. He's all prose and pretty words, with no real awareness of the state of things. He loves rainbow drinker literature, and this was why he first took an interest in Raekie, and then fell HARD. The fact that he has no social awareness makes flirting difficult, aswell as the fact that he takes Raekie's poetry seriously and Raekie doesn't take his seriously. Theyre both idiots with romance. Rapierkind Strife.

Ossico Blakke, Prince of Rage, Derse Sway, Fuchsia Blood.

Ossico is constantly tired, quick to anger if awoken from a good nap. Overall the whole group knows she has some anger issues to work through, but she cares deeply about her friends and is a sweetheart when shes calm. She is a force of raw destruction with a love for all things cutesy and brightly colored, and ducks. Furniturekind Strife.

Nibies Dulcis, Page of Time, Prospit Sway, Cotton Candy Blood.

Nibies was claimed by a purpleblood cult before she could be culled, and was worshipped as the avatar of their god, this was not a good thing for her. Eventually she did make it out and meet Manika, theyve got some sort of undisclosed redrom going on there, noones really sure. Nibies also hates Celare for an unknown reason, and its rather obvious theyve got some blackrom tension. Nibies is silly and over the top to make up for Manika's lack of clown behavior, with a very intense sweet tooth. She probably would have gone entirely mad if not for this group, and Manika and Nihila made her a prosthetic arm to replace the one she lost. Sweetskind Strife.