#my whole life just feels so embarrassing like why the HELL can’t I find a job?! omg

[herbaklava]

when my family asks what I’m doing with my life

[beneathstarryskies]

Word count: 1,194

Summary: Grimmjow has been living with your for a while, and you have him feeling ✨some type of way.✨

Warnings: fem!reader, penetration, smut, grimmjow is basically a warning in himself (i love the murder kitten with my whole heart but he is a problem), cock warming, a lil fluffy

A/N: Based off of this post by the lovely @your-local-hollow-lover

Like almost everything between you and Grimmjow, it started as an argument. He’d been more moody and rude than usual lately, which you didn’t even think was possible. He sat on your sofa, where he’d been sleeping since Urahara declared he couldn’t stay at the shop anymore, with his legs sprawled open while staring disinterestedly at the television. You’d tried all day to get him off his ass to help you do chores, after all, if he was going to stay in the human realm he needed to learn how to do human things. He just refused to even look at you. His jaw was set tight and his lips were pulled into a scowl. 

“So are you just gonna fucking sit there and let me do all of the chores?” you’d asked, stomping your foot like a child mid-tantrum as you stood in front of the television. It was annoying, but Grimmjow begrudgingly thought it was cute too. He loves it when you bite back. 

“Yeah, I fucking am! Humans are good for one thing, and that’s to serve me!” 

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” you growl. As you took off from the living room, he’d assumed that was the end of it, but then you came out of your bedroom fully dressed and carrying your purse. 

“Where the hell are you going?” he asked. 

“Out!” you said without looking at him. 

Before you can make it to the door he’s on you. He grabs your arm firmly, but with a surprising awareness of his strength to not hurt you. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, woman,” he growls as he tries to pull you closer. 

“Let go of me, Grimmjow!” you try to yank your arm away. You almost managed to get out of his grip until he yanks on your arm and then pushes you against the wall. 

“Don’t walk away from me,” he snarls, pinning you against the wall. Your scent fills his nostrils and he has to hold back a grunt. At that moment the source of why he’s been so irritable today reveals itself with a rush of blood straight to his cock. 

“Oh my god, are you seriously hard right now?” You asked. 

“What did you fucking expect? You’ve been traipsing around the house all day in those stupid little shorts and wearing that…that…DAMN SCENT!” 

You know he means your perfume. He’d mentioned it once before, trying to find the source of the sweet smell but being too embarrassed to ask. Although it’d been a couple of days since you put any on, so you didn’t think he’d still be able to smell it on you. Apparently, you miscalculated. You also miscalculated why he’d pretended to hate it when you first explained the whole concept of perfume to him. 

In the heat of the moment, you leaned in to kiss him. It was sloppy and wet. You wondered if this was the first time he’d kissed, but he didn’t give you time to ask before he was pressing his bulge against you. 

That’s how you ended up in this predicament.

He’s purring loudly against your neck as you sit on his cock. His hands are firmly on your hips. He hadn’t helped you work your way down his thick shaft, but he wasn’t pushing you away either. Not by a long shot. The warmth of your snug walls around him felt fucking amazing, but he wouldn’t admit that. 

Even though he’s holding onto your body like his life depends on it and you can feel the purrs vibrating against his chest that’s flush with yours, he feels ashamed of liking this. He’s so weak and even feels a little disgusted with himself for savoring the feeling of some human’s cunt around his cock. But you weren’t just any human, not really. That disgusts him too. The fact that he looks forward to you coming home from work, and how he enjoys all of your dumb arguments. The way he can’t help taking in your scent every time you’re close to him. He fucking hates it. 

“Grimmjow, I need to move,” you whine, but his grip on you forces you to keep still. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he pants. “Don’t even try it.” 

“You’re the one that pulled me on your lap,” you argue. 

Your hands are trembling as you brace your hands on his shoulders. He has you filled to the brim. His balls are flush against your ass, but he refuses to move. Even though he’s quivering and purring and his cock is aching inside of you, he forces himself to stay still. 

“You’re just making us both crazy,” you try to reason with him as your pussy clenches around his cock. 

“I don’t care!” 

He wants to outlast his own instincts. His mind is filled with images of slamming into you over and over; of holding you down and making you scream his name. But no. He stubbornly stays in place, torturing you both in hopes he’ll go soft or finally find the strength to push you away instead of keeping you caged against him. 

He moves to adjust his position and inadvertently ends up lightly thrusting. He lets out a soft growl as he does it again, this time harder. Your arousal drips down his shaft and balls as a surge of excitement courses through your loins at the idea that he’s finally going to give in, but he stubbornly goes still again. 

“Grimmjow, it’s okay to want this,” you whisper and run your hands through his hair. “But it’s also okay not to. We can stop.” 

“I don’t want to fucking stop,” he admits. “But I can’t give in either. This is stupid.” 

“You’re impossible,” you groan. 

He knows you’re right. He’s the one who kissed you first. He’s the one who pulled you onto his lap so you could grind against his cock, but now that it’s down to it he’s being too prideful to give in to the intense need that’s been growing inside him for as long as he’s known you. It all added up: every time you argued, every time you sat beside him on the couch to watch a movie and fell asleep so he put a blanket over you while pretending the next morning he didn’t, all the times you offered him some semblance of understanding when nobody else would’ve tried. It left little marks on his heart that he thought long dead. 

You give up on trying to make him move. Instead you just wrap your arms around him, letting him nuzzle and purr against you. One of your hands run through his hair gently. You want him to know you’ll still be here when he’s ready. 

After what feels like an eternity, his grip loosens on your hips. Slowly, and ever so carefully, you begin rocking your hips. Your body screams out for you to go faster, to take what you want like he likely would if the roles were reversed, but you don’t. You keep him enveloped in your embrace. 

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask gently. 

“Fuck…No,” he grits. 

[kitashousewife]

hii idk if I missed it but did u ever expand on the sakusa perfume ad thought 👀

YES please let me do so (sorry this is so late)

—————

“yes, that’s perfect. right here,” the photographer snaps another shot, clicking sounds echoing through the small set as sakusa lets out an exhale.

really he’s not sure why he agreed to this. some new perfume line contacted the team a few months back, talking about some sort of collaboration to boost each others popularity. a few phone calls later and now, most of the teammates have had their turn behind the camera.

sakusa was last. he really didn’t want to. he was flattered, a little flustered that they thought he would be good for a perfume ad. he’s seen them this whole life, casting movie stars and other famous athletes. the mere fact that he’s now at that level is mind blowing enough.

but now that he sits here, uncomfortably warm and sick of the attention, he’s thinking maybe it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

until you call him.

you’re in your local grocery store, picking up things for the week after work. thoroughly worn out, you grab a magazine from the racks while in the check out line to pass the time. your fingers flip through aimlessly, completely unaware of the contents of the glossy pages, until you are.

staring back at you is sakusa kiyoomi. head rested in his palm, in a partially unbuttoned black silk shirt, with a bottle of cologne to his lips.

you almost shut the magazine. your body feels warm, your head spins. almost ripping it open again, you stare right back at the photo. his jaw is sharp, and his milky skin glistens behind the shiny bottle. and his eyes, they feel like he’s staring right at you. before you can think twice you’re shoving the tabloid onto the belt, and begin to try to catch your breath.

“hell-“

“kiyoomi,” your voice sounds apprehensive, strained even.

“what? i just got back from practice, i need to sh-“

“we’ve been friends for over ten years and you forgot to tell me that you were in a fucking cologne ad?”

sakusa about chokes before he slams the mute button on his phone. he completely forgot, he hadn’t even been told by the marketing team that the ads were out. he feels embarrassed, suddenly worried about everyone in the entire world seeing a completely different side of him than normal.

but he’s also curious.

part of him wished this would happen. while he was staring down the lens of the camera, the thought did cross his mind about how you specifically would react.

he can’t help but find out.

“it slipped my mind i guess, i’ve been busy,” he sets his phone on the kitchen counter. “kinda cool, huh?”

you don’t even know what to say. the most beautiful photo of the prettiest man you’ve ever met is in front of you, and his raspy voice is coming through your phone, making for an incredibly distracting combination.

“you look so irritated,” your voice is quiet. sakusa smirks, only slightly.

“i was. i was there for hours,” his smirk grows for a moment. “i think there’s going to be a short video ad, too.”

you rub your temples. your mind is blank. you’ve always thought sakusa was handsome, but not like this. your tongue feel heavy in your mouth, and you can’t stop staring.

“a-and what do you think of it? what did your mom say?”

sakusa shorts at the desperate conversation change attempt. “she had a fit, you know how she is.”

the thought of how could she not crosses your mind, and thankfully you don’t say it out loud.

“well, it’s really something. congrats, omi,”

sakusa smiles. “thanks,” he can hear you sigh on the other end. “everything okay over there?”

no. “y-yeah, yeah, just fine,” you shut the magazine and toss it onto the coffee table.

“staring at my picture?”

“n-no!” you’re quick, and sakusa laughs.

“miss me that much? jeez, want me to come sign it for you too?”

you pause. he laughs out loud. “shut up, omi,” you groan. “i’ll see you friday anyway, for motoya’s dinner,”

“okay, see you then.”

he hangs up, and he can’t help but snicker to himself. he can’t wait to see you on friday now. and, he even has the shirt from the shoot.

he decides he’s going to wear it, just for you.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Purly got Arrested Fic

This is so not his fault. 

If he’s going down for it- and it definitely seems like he is, considering the holding cell the blond haired cop with the gross cologne is locking them into seems pretty hardcore- he just wants to make that very clear. This is not his fault. 

Ok, so maybe it was his idea. But it was the kind of good idea that seems great when he’s lying in the lot passing a joint back and forth with Curly, the same kind of good idea as buying a drink for a stranger when you’re drunk, or baiting Steve into a fight until you find out Evie’s mad at him- not an actual good idea. He, being a very rational, very smart individual, knew this. 

Curly, apparently, did not. And since Curly is like a dog with a bone, or like that freakish raccoon he feeds with a box of soggy McDonald’s fries, he refused to let it go. So they did it. 

In both of their defense, while it was stupid, it wasn’t something he thought they could be arrested for. Ok, that’s wasn’t exactly true, but it definitely wasn’t something he thought they’d get caught doing. Something tells him that defense isn’t exactly gonna go over well with Darry. Soda might have thought it was funny- if it hadn’t been Curly he was doing it with. 

Bullshit.

“One phone call boys.” Officer Dipshit Cologne reminds them with a frown, then crosses to sit at a desk on the side of the room opposite the holding cell. 

Just great.

It’s kind of anticlimactic all things considered. Two-bit and Steve tell such tuff stories of being hauled in that he’d thought he’d at least feel cool the first time he got arrested, but so far it’s just been like, super annoying and inconvenient. He doesn’t feel very cool. Mostly embarrassed. And kind of hungry. Darry is supposed to be making chicken tonight and he really hopes he can get outta here before dinnertime because Soda will steal his share if he isn’t there.

He sighs and exchanges a look with Curly.

“You gonna call Tim?”

Curly scoffs.

“Why bother? Bail is five bucks we don’t have, ‘specially since I'll be out tomorrow. ‘Sides, he bailed me out last month when I lit that fire in the park, so it’ll be at least half a year ‘fore he does anythin’ like that again.”

“Shit.”

“What?” Curly grins, entirely in his element. Hell, he almost looks more relaxed than usual, standing in this glorified cage, leaning against the bars without a care in the world. Ponyboy can’t decide whether the sight makes him want to punch him or snog the life out of him. It’s a familiar feeling at this point. “not lookin’ forward to callin’ good ol’ Darry?”

“Shut up,” Pony glares. Fuck, he definitely wants to kiss him. Stupid fucking Curly Shepard with his cocky grin and that catlike arrogance, driving him mad when he should actually be mad, “the second I call Darry is the second my life ends.”

He’ll be grounded for life for this. He’ll be forty years old and sitting bored out of his fucking mind in the living room while Darry glares at him from the armchair. Curly, unfortunately, is an asshole and so refuses to see the gravity of the situation. Instead, he fucking laughs.

So much for “solidarity” and “don’t worry it’ll be fun” and “I’ve got your back, so quit being a pussy and just fucking do it already.”

Bullshit.

“Quit bein’ dramatic.”

“Oh if you think it’s gonna be such a calm and collected conversation why don’t you call Darry and explain that we got arrested for public indecency.”

“I think they called it disturbin’ the peace when they was cuffin’ me actually.”

“Lucky you,” Ponyboy snarls, because yeah, okay, Curly did have his pants on when they got arrested, but he definitely hadn’t had them on when that old lady called the cops, so really, they should both be getting the indecency charge. 

Bullshit.

“Real talk though,” Curly says, “I don’t mind callin’ Darry for you. The big man loves me.”

“Do not.” 

Darry was actually being like, really cool about his friendship with Curly but this whole incident would change that. And don’t even get him started on what would happen if Curly called the house and Soda answered. Then the holding cell would be a blessing, simply because Soda couldn’t commit a murder if Curly was already locked up.

“Well unless you’re fixin’ to stay here overnight and cuddle, one of us has gotta call someone.”

“What about Angela?”

“What about her?” Curly props his elbow on Pony’s shoulder.

“Would she come get us?”

“Hmm,” Curly considers it, “she might come get me. She owes me for helpin’ her sneak out without Tim catchin’ her last week, but she definitely won’t come for you.”

He’s right. Ponyboy knows he’s right because he and Angela kind of can’t fucking stand each other. He wouldn’t bail her out, not even for Curly’s sake, so it makes sense she wouldn’t bail him out either. Still, it’s fucking rude.

“You could call Matthews,” Curly suggests, “bet he’d be cool about it.”

“I gotta better chance of gettin’ the president on the line than Two-bit.”

“Guess you’re shit outta luck then,” Curly shrugs, beckoning him over to the bench on the other side of the cell. There’s a greasy looking guy passed out drunk leaning against it, so they take a seat on the opposite side, “you can always just stay the night with me. We could get real cozy if y’know what I mean?”

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Pony swats at him. Dealing with Curly, he’s learned, requires skills not unlike those one would need to tame a rabid dog or a toddler on crack. Which, given Curly’s upbringing, may have been something that happened once or twice. 

“I can’t not go home,” Ponyboy reminds him, “they’ll lose their shit.”

Which is fair. After Windrixville and Johnny and Dal it makes sense that Darry and Soda go apeshit when he’s late for curfew and doesn’t call ahead, which is why he tries his very best to keep them informed. Still. This is not a situation he is looking forward to informing them of.

“Aren’t they gonna lose their shit anyway?”

“Well yeah, but it’d definitely be worse if I don’t go home tonight and then they find out it’s because I was arrested.”

“I mean,” Curly points out, “you wouldn’t have to tell them.”

Shows what he knows. Curly has never had to sit on the couch with Darry using his freaky mind reading powers and Soda’s huge disappointed eyes boring into him to get him to confess to maybe, hypothetically, potentially cussing his teacher out in science class. Those two can get him to be more truthful than a polygraph. It’s so annoying.

“Yes I would. And I can’t not call. I just…I can’t.”

Curly seems to finally get it because his eyes light in understanding and he headbuts him in the shoulder. It’s kind of sweet.

“Better do it sooner than later then, huh?”

“Yeah,” Pony sighs, waving the cop over, slapping a hand over Curly’s mouth when the other boy goes to say something because he knows that look in Curly’s eye. It’s the same look he had when he told their gym teacher his shitty attitude probably wasn’t why his wife left him it was his looks.

Two minutes later he’s standing in front of the phone, that cop- who’s cologne is still terrible and giving him a headache- practically breathing down his neck, and wondering if he’s really going to go through with this. 

The cop clears his throat and that’s when Pony realizes that yes, he is indeed going to do this, because he does not have a choice.

Sighing, and refusing to glance at where Curly is audibly laughing at him in the holding cell, he carefully dials the number. Of course the first  number is a nine so he has to watch as the rotary phone slowly winds back to zero before he can wind it over to the six.

Finally, the dial tone sounds in his ear. It rings once. Twice. Three times. He’s just starting to worry that maybe no one is home when he hears a click and Darry’s smooth baritone filters through the speaker. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Darry,” his voice comes out a lot squeakier than he hoped and he fights to keep his feet from fidgeting. That cop had made it clear he didn’t appreciate it, and much as he’d never admit it, he was still kind of scared of cops, maybe even more so after Windrixville. 

“Ponyboy?” He can hear the slight concern in Darry’s voice. It’s an odd time for him to be calling, considering it isn’t even six yet and curfew is still hours away. “Everything ok?”

“I need you to come pick me up.”

“Okay…” Darry sounds almost suspicious now. He can hear hollering in the background- probably Steve and Two-bit arguing over the tv. “Where are you?”

“Don’t get mad.” Pony begs, and apparently it’s the wrong thing to say.

“What did you do?” Darry isn’t shouting- he’s a lot better about that now- but the resigned exhaustion in his voice is almost worse.

“Nothing!”

“Ponyboy,” Darry warns and it’s his I-swear-to-god-kid-you’re-gonna-send-me-to-an-early-grave voice, “where are you?”

“Before I answer that I need you to think about how good I’ve been lately. Straight As at school, track awards, hell, I even did the dishes yesterday even though it was Soda’s turn-”

“-You got arrested, didn’t you?” Darry cuts him off and Pony has to hand it to him, in the past year, ever since they got close again, Darry really has learned to read him like a book. 

“...yes.”

Darry sighs. It’s world weary, but if Pony didn’t know better he’d swear there was an undercurrent of amusement there. The arguing in the background has abruptly cut off, which is kind of rude. He’s just as tough as the rest of them. Him getting arrested shouldn’t be this surprising.

“What did you do?”

“Before I tell you I need you to keep an open mind-”

“-Nevermind.” Darry cuts him off again, firmly, “just…what’s the charge?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Pony admits, “they said public indecency when they were cuffing me, but Curly swears it’ll only count as disturbing the peace-”

“If I get down there and you don’t have pants on so help me god, Ponyboy-”

“Cool it Dar,” he rolls his eyes, “the cops let me put them back on before they cuffed me.”

“Jesus christ,” he can almost see Darry through the phone, resting his forehead against the wall and rubbing his eyes, “you better have a damn good explanation for this.”

Good? Maybe not. Interesting? Definitely. Not that he was about to say that. This was going better than he could’ve hoped, all things considered, but he wasn’t about to test his luck.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Darry continues, “don’t answer any questions and don’t do anything stupid- scratch that, don’t do anything else stupid. And tell that friend of yours I’ll be payin’ Tim a visit on my way over.”

The line goes dead. 

He can’t help but grin as he places the phone back on the receiver. Sure, he’s still in huge trouble but that went like, so much better than he’d imagined. Hell, his grounding might even be lifted before he graduates.

As the cop walks him back over to the holding cell he can’t help but hope Soda wasn’t home to hear the aftermath of that particular phone call. Not that he thinks Soda won’t support him, but if Darry mentions Curly then the chances of him making this whole thing a lot more of an issue than it needs to be are 1000x higher. 

“Well?” Curly grins as soon as the door clanks shut behind him, Officer Dipshit Cologne’s key jangling in the lock, “How’d he take it?”

“He said he’s stoppin’ to talk to Tim on his way over here,” Pony tells him, hoping to wipe that smug look of Curly’s face, “so don’t get too comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” Curly snorts, stretching out on the bench, “Ponykid, this place is practically my second home at this point. ‘Sides, I already told you Tim ain’t comin’, not for somethin’ like this.”

“He might if Darry asks him to.” Pony points out. Curly doesn’t deign to answer. It doesn’t matter: they both know he’s right, even if Curly doesn’t want to admit it.

“Move over will ya?” Pony nudges Curly into a sitting position, taking a seat next to him on the bench. 

Curly elbows him back because he’s a menace.

Pony shoves him.

Curly hip checks him, hard enough he almost falls off the bench.

Pony tackles him. 

Then they’re really wrestling, rolling around on the concrete floor. Curly smells like Marlboro cigarettes and dirt and cheap shampoo, but somehow it works. They’ve rolled a bit, bit Curly’s got him pinned right now, and jus like every time they fight its unlike fighting anyone else. He’s hyper aware of everywhere Curly’s body is pressed against his- knees bracketed on either side of his hips, one hand pinning his shoulders down, the other reaching to smack at him half heartedly, in a way Pony knows is Curly’s version of playful.

He loves it, and like every time they tussle like this, he kind of also wants to explode.

“Hey!” Officer Dipshit Cologne rattled the door of the cell, “Knock it off you two!”

Ponyboy and Curly exchange a look and burst out laughing. Curly climbs off him, pulling Pony to his feet and the collapse on the bench together. 

Their mirth doesn’t last long.

“Ponyboy Curtis!” A second later Darry Curtis is striding into the station, green flannel tucked into his jeans in an attempt to look respectable, wearing his best ‘responsible adult’ face, and Ponyboy remembers he is still in so much trouble. “I’m here for my brother, Ponboy Curtus.”

Beside him, Curly has gone stiff. 

“No way,” he mutters, looking like he had that time they explored the old Bronsen house on halloween- that is to say, like he’d seen a ghost, “theres no fucking way…”

Ponyboy looks up and sees what stopped Curly in his tracks. Tim Shepard, as grim faced and dangerous looking as ever, prowling after Darry like a panther.

Pony shoot Curly a smug look. Curly swats at him without taking his eyes off his brother.

“This ain’t good…” he mutters, as Tim starts talking to Officer Dipshit Cologne alongside Darry.

“Sure ain’t.” Ponyboy agrees as the officer marches toward the cell, Darry and Tim at his heels. Golly they look pissed.

“Wanna make a run for it?”

“Fuck no,” Pony murmurs back, “I’m already in enough shit as it is.”

“You fuckin’ dumbass,” Tim barks as soon as the door’s unlocked, and he seizes Curly by the ear, ignoring his pained yelp as he half drags him out of the police station, scolding him in rapid fire spanish. Pony doesn’t understand much but his name gets thrown in there a few times and he can’t help but wince. The last thing he needs is to be on Tim Shepard’s shit list.

Darry doesn’t look too happy but he doesn’t look near as mad as Tim. Pony thanks his lucky stars for that.

‘C’mon kiddo,” Darry jerks his head, “let’s go.”

Pony follows him out to the truck, explains the thought process behind stripping down and trying to steal the coins in the fountain at the park because it seemed like there’d be enough for cigarettes and movie snacks. He pretends he doesn’t know what Darry means when he tells him he of all people needs to be careful about indecency charges, while his cheeks heat and Darry gives him terrified, significant, half pleading looks. 

Still, he can’t bring himself to regret any of it. Not even when Soda spends half an hour ranting to him about how Curly is the spawn of the devil on earth. Not even when Steve laughs at him about why he got arrested.

Like everything when it comes to Curly, it was just too much fun to regret. 

[saturnsbabyboii]

💚Astro Observations my friend and I came up with while high💚 (Also Cause it’s 420)

💚I find that Moon signs don’t necessarily fit into their “descriptions” because it’s not who they are per se but rather what they desire when they’re feeling vulnerable and emotional. 

💚 For example, Capricorn Moons aren’t cold, distant and always practical, however, they do desire a more action based kind of support. Rumination and “talking about it” won’t cut it if they don’t have an action plan or something solid (or someone that they considered to be as such) to guide them. 

💚 Another example, Leo Moons aren’t attention seeking but rather they desire to feel seen and heard. They want someone that can understand what they have a hard time expressing, something very troubling for a Leo. They also find themselves able to be more open with people that are authentic about how they feel and their expression, be it verbal or artistic. 

💚 Despite people calling them flighty, Air placements are usually logical and based in reality. They may exaggerate or get too excited but they never pull shit out of vapor or believe it “just because”. Debating them is not for the weak. Not because they’re strongheaded (not always) but because they know what they’re talking about.

💚Earth placements are great liars, cause no one ever suspects them. A good liar is never known as such, hell they make a good living out of it. (Not calling people snakes or fake just that they don’t do something half assed, including the art of deception)

💚 Why couldn’t Cancers be called Lunarians or Lunars? No offense but who in the f thought it was a good idea to call the crab constellation Cancer? The amount of embarrassing cross over that happen means that we require to take action.

❣️Side bar but shout out to everyone that is going through or went through any form of cancer, whether it was you or a loved or anyone that you know. We love and support you, and your resilience is an inspiration and a testament to what’s important in life.❣️ ⠀

💚 The obsession that Aquarius placements have with cyberpunk/cyber core/Dystopian/Apocalyptia/Futuristic aesthetic is wild. They can’t wait until the world end so they can rock that fashion on the dumpster runway.

💚 I honestly associate cats with Virgos not Leos.

💚What’s with Mars in Fire signs/Fire houses (1st/5th/9th) and throwing things. It doesn’t matter if they’re excited, happy, angry or sad they just go ┬─┬ノ( º _ ºノ) then (┛ಠ_ಠ)┛彡┻━┻

💚 Although Scorpios go hard to defend themselves, Taurus would cut a bitch for their love ones. They don’t give a damn what you say about them but you’ll be getting more than what you bargained for when they start swinging out of nowhere after you bring up anyone they love. Especially when it comes to their animals and babies. 

💚 Out of all the Venus signs, I never heard someone talk about liking a Libra Venus. 

💚 Air Mars natives waiting for you to finish talking before they slaughter your ass is amazing to me

💚 Water signs are true foodies. Foodier than Earth signs even. Water in the 6th house especially can eat a whole cow, or tree if you’re vegan.   

💚 The power of the eyebrow raise that Fire Mercuries make when they know that you got the right one. 

💚 Because time is subjective I believe the 12th house can give us insight on our relationship with it. As a finite part of life, in the house final endings the sign over the house (and the placements as well) can help navigate it. 

💚 For example, Virgo in the 12th may catastrophize and worry about things that are out of their control, such as time, and spend so much of their energy trying to do so. Their growth and ascension into a higher state of mind comes in finding power in learning to separate what we can control and what we can’t, and letting life go as intended without much intervention.

💚 For me, the whole point of learning about astrology is to break your own cycle and to grow out of your birth chart rather than conform to it.

💚Libra placements get so tenacious with age. As they get older, they realize that being in the better graces of others is futile work.

That’s all. I think I might’ve had more but I can’t remember everything we talked about 😅. 

Byeee!

[semisutopia]

𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵

abed x fem!reader

“guys we have to do something. y/n hasn’t been in any anthropology classes and we haven’t seen her all week”, britta started the study group’s discussion.

shirley and annie both nodded their heads in vigorous agreement while troy, pierce, and jeff looked at each other in questioning. “what can we even do though? it’s not like we can just go to her dorm and talk to her”, troy said.

“not true, i’ve been to her dorm. i know where it is”, annie retaliated. “but does that really matter? maybe she doesn’t want to talk to us. you ever think about that?”, jeff said with his legs on the table.

“why wouldn’t she want to?”, shirley asked. “maybe she’s gotten sick of us”, annie said with a frown. “there’s no way that could happen. she’s told me all about her high school 'friends'. she loves our company”, britta replied.

“abed, sweetie, you’ve been really quiet. everything alright?”, shirley noticed him being nonverbal. everyone turned their heads to the eighteen-year-old.

“britta’s right. y/n wouldn’t get sick of us. she keeps talking about how happy she is to have us. that’s an unlikely situation”, abed stated. “yeah..but aren’t you concerned that we haven’t seen her in a whole week?”, britta asked.

abed simply shrugged and said, “yes but we can’t control her. jeff’s the dad. controlling is his job”.

suddenly, a gasp emerged from jeff’s mouth. “she’s sleeping with someone”, he stated his revelation.

“what drew you to that conclusion?”, britta asked.

“think about it right. y/n's not the type of person to ditch her friends at all. especially since we have such a significance in her life. the only explanation for her avoiding us is embarrassment. she doesn’t want us to know she’s yknow”, he make the hand gesture that caused everyone else to roll their eyes.

“okay i vote we go to her dorm and ask her ourselves and find out definitively”, britta paused and glared at jeff, “that y/n is not sleeping with anyone”. with that, they all set off for y/n's dorm.

—————

britta knocked on y/n's door only for her to answer after a full minute. she opened the door and looked panicked. “aha! quick, check her dorm for someone!”, jeff instructed and troy and pierce followed suit.

in the midst of them checking her closet, desk, and under her bed, y/n was looking at no one in particular and staring at the floor, fiddling with her fingers.

“what the hell are you doing?!”, she asked. “we know you’re sleeping with someone missy!”, pierce explained. “what the fuck? i’m not sleeping with anyone. and STOP MESSING UP MY ROOM”, she pulled troy back by the shoulder.

the three men stopped and now it was the girls’ turn to be questionable. “y/n, where have you been? you’ve missed every anthropology class since the semester began”, annie said.

“are you really not sleeping with anyone, y/n? because if you are…that’s…real good for you. yknow getting yourself going. good for you, girl”, shirley also said.

it was important to note that since entering her dorm, abed had not taken his gaze off of y/n. in contrast, she was doing her best to not look at him at all.

y/n sighed and replied, “no, shirley i have not been sleeping with anyone. i’ve just been taking early morning classes to manage my time better. and anthropology is so useless now. literally, nothing happens”.

“yeah but it still counts for credit. you’re lucky duncan has been drunk every class and doesn’t notice your absence. but what about coming to the library?”, britta asked.

y/n started fiddling more and breathing started becoming harder for her. “um- uh- i just didn’t feel like it”. “come on y/n. you can tell us. we’re your best friends”, annie said, trying to encourage her best friend.

“because i like abed okay?!”, y/n blurted quietly. the room went quiet.

“uh- um- yeah i- sorry abed. but yeah i like you”, she started, still not looking up at him. “i get really panicked around you and so i’ve been avoiding you and the library and anthropology classes because i have romantic feelings for—“, y/n's words got cut short as abed lifted her face up and pressed a kiss to her lips.

a gasp escaped annie as britta and troy fist bumped in the back. shirley placed her hands on her chest and smiled, wholeheartedly at the scene. after a few seconds, abed pulled away. “uh w-why’d you do that?”, y/n questioned, still on her toes from the kiss.

“i have romantic feelings for you too. i thought they were obvious”, abed admitted. “weren’t they obvious?”, he looked back at jeff who just shrugged.

“well at least now, she’s gonna be sleeping with someone” “jeff!”, britta said and hit him in the arm.

all rights go to @semisutopia on tumblr. please don't copy or plagiarise my work. that's really lame of you.

[villainessprefect]

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: Commencement

Prompt #1: Being too afraid to confess during the school year, so you wait until graduation.

Idia x gn!reader

Read on AO3

"You're going to do it, right, Idia?" Ortho asks as he hovers beside his brother.

"Do what?" He asks. For once his focus isn't on playing a game, but rather coding one. With that, he doesn't notice the smile in his brother's voice nor the mischievous glint that sparks in his eyes.

"Confess to the Prefect!"

Idia is glad that he hadn't gone for his energy drink because it would have spilled everywhere. The sudden declaration makes his hair flare for a second and tests the code when it's not done. It ends up in a loop, crashing. Ortho had done more damage than a final boss doing his signature move could ever hope to do.

"Wh-Why would I do that? It's so cringe and n-normie! Besides, the Prefect has other options...they'd never pick me."

"I know they would," Ortho reassures. Idia lets out a sigh and he can't tell if it's his brother's endless optimism or the fact that he can't recall when he last saved his work. "I've analyzed their reactions and heart rate whenever you're together. The chances of you two becoming more involved are 90%! Please, I know if you just ask then you two can be happy."

"Not happening."

He picks up from where he left off with his code as if he were never interrupted. But his focus doesn't last long, not when his mind lingers on Ortho's bluntness about his feelings. Pah! As if he would ever admit those aloud. Not in a million years. No matter how much Ortho pestered him, he wouldn't- couldn't do it.

No matter how many times he's dreamt of the scenario or even dared to practice in front of his PC. The amount of times he's tried to mimic those dating sims and tried to sound as cool as a love interest is truly embarrassing. The memories make him cringe.

He's a weirdo, he knows this. You know this. The whole damn school knows this. He's a shut-in who barely has any friends let alone a love interest. It's a miracle that he even has you.

Those stupid feelings for you should have disappeared a long time ago. They blossomed before he could even realize it. You just had to waltz into this world and steal his heart- just like a true MC! But what was he to you in your life? An NPC you were fond of? A passing friend who would be forgotten soon? He doesn't dare to think of himself as anything more to you.

You should have gone home. At least, a part of him hopes you would have by now. That way he could bury those feelings in his heart and get over this lovestruck phase. He could find comfort in an anime character who was just like you and be fine with that. But you've pretty much settled on staying in this world. And that's a scary thought.

You were going to remain in the same world as him.

And his feelings for you would never disappear.

"Ortho?"

Idia doesn't want to confess and lose...whatever it is you have. Friendship, he guesses? It's...nice. To have someone that he can spend time with. Someone who isn't his brother and can get along with him too! It's something he didn't think he was capable of having.

Yet, he fears losing you to someone else. Anyone could snatch you up. Even the weakest soul that walked the school grounds was stronger than him. At least they had the courage to be out there while he found safety in his room. It's pathetic, he knows...

"Yes?"

But it can't be like this forever, can it? He can't keep cowering away despite how easy it may be. Fighting against fate is pointless, he can't win.

But he can try. All he needs to do is take the first step.

"M-Maybe I will...b-but under one condition!"

Graduation.

That is when he would confess. Idia finds the timing to be good considering he missed the other holiday events. Plus he has time to prepare (and test his theory if you're really staying in this world or not). And if everything goes to hell, well, he won't be here to deal with it! He could flub his confession and go home and never have to deal with that or you, again! Even if he loses, he wins.

If only graduation hadn't come sooner than he thought. It's only thanks to Ortho's enthusiasm does he remember that 'promise' he made to him. His face instantly pales at the reminder and how he's been neglecting to prepare for the upcoming day. Grinding in his games was always a priority but they've been put even higher when learning he has to appear in person to get his diploma before leaving this place for good. Ugh. Seriously? Couldn't they just send it to him digitally? No? Figures.

The day of graduation feels quite surreal. For the most part, he's blanked out. Unimportant NPCs were called one by one for their flimsy piece of paper and a handshake from Crowley. It was a painstakingly, extensive ceremony. He never liked his surname thanks to the curse it brought, but now he disliked it even more due to the fact how low it was on the list. His curse loved screwing him over in more ways than one, it seems.

It's not surprising that Idia disappears the moment the diploma is in his hands and he's free from Crowley's hand. He played his part and now he has no reason to remain there. Even if teachers barked at him to stay, did it matter? He was a student here no longer.

Idia finds solace in the courtyard. It's empty and devoid of life. Everyone is crowded at the ceremony, waiting for the final names to be called. The cheers of celebration for this event is heard even from here. Good for them.

"Idia?"

"Eek!" The blue-haired boy squeaks at the call of his name. He jumps and practically squeezes that flimsy piece of paper in his hands like a lifeline. When he sees that it's you, he lets out a breath. Just for a moment, he is calm. Then he realizes, it's you.

"P-Prefect? What are you doing here?! You're not...watching the rest of the ceremony?"

"I came to look for you," you answer with a soft smile. So warm and comforting. It's hard to believe you don't have magic when you make him feel at ease with just a smile. "I figured you would leave and asked Ortho to tell me where you went. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Ah, Ortho..." He shouldn't be surprised. "I, uh, I'm okay. Better now that I'm away from...there."

"The ceremony is nice and all, but...there really are a lot of people. I'm just glad no one ruined it," you laugh.

"Planning to ruin another ceremony?" He scoffs, a playful grin itching on his face. "You could have showed up on stage with Grim."

"Maybe for my graduation, I'll do something like that. You can be there to see it too."

"Y-Yeah...I will." He agrees before properly processing his answer. Of course, he would go to see you graduate. It would be under the guise of doing it for Ortho, but for you two...he thinks he could brave the crowd. Well, he'd be all the way in the back near the closest exit and be watching you both up close with a drone while he's avoiding the crowd, but he'd be there.

Silence falls between you. It's not unwelcome, but Idia has the looming sensation of dread hanging over him. He made a promise to Ortho and he wants to keep it. Even if it makes him feel like he's going to pass out. If he's going to be a good older brother, he has to do this. For him and Ortho.

"I'm going to miss you."

"Eh?"

You're the one to break the silence first. Your gaze lifts towards the sky, eyes on who knows what. Idia catches a glimpse of how your smile has fallen from your lips.

"I kinda dreaded graduation. It means losing out on my older friends, sort of. I know no one is leaving for good, but you're going to be busy with your family business, right? I don't know if you'll have time for me, but...I'd still like to keep in touch with you."

His face burns upon hearing your words. It feels like you're the one making a move on him! You totally are, right? Right?! Wait, was Ortho seriously right this whole time? No, no. It's too early to tell.

"Y-Yes!" He squeaks out, again. He's happy to have given a verbal response and see your face light up.

Idia opens his mouth to continue speaking but finds his voice lost. A hand reaches out to pull out his tablet hidden in his robes. It's kept in his hands with a firm grasp as he thinks how easy it would be to convey his feelings through it. But that's so lame. Who confesses via tablet when you're literally right in front of each other?

"You okay?" You ask.

Idia gives a quick nod. His gaze is focused on the tablet, looking at the reflection of himself through it. His flames capture his attention and he can see the tints of pink giving his feelings away. He doesn't like how he looks. Pathetic. Weak. Cowardly. It's times like this when he would just run and lose everything. Things would be so much easier if life were a game.

He forces his head up and takes in the surroundings. The courtyard is still empty aside from you two. There's a slight breeze that causes your hair to sway in the wind. The setting sun is casting an orange glow upon the world and on you, caressing your face with a gentle glow. If only there were cherry blossoms, this would be a peak anime scene. The normal tree behind him has to do the stand-in job for it. Video games may show the ideal, but this...isn't such a bad cutscene.

"I...have something I want to say to you," Idia gulps. All he has to do is be the MC he was meant to be! Er- love interest! If he can do this in a game, he can do this IRL. Easy peasy.

You don't rush him. You're patient. Always being kind and letting him take his time to formulate his words. To be considerate, makes his heart warm, especially with the way you're looking at him.

"I just have to pick the right dialogue options," he mutters to himself. He takes in a breath and hides his tablet. "I've been wanting to tell you how I feel...a-about you. That I really like you as a person. You're not like the rest of the normies, you're actually pr-pretty cool. And I wouldn't mind you being in my life longer than them." His voice cracks and he lets out a whine. He wishes for these robes to have hoods so he could hide. "I-Is that good enough? I think I messed this up...just KO me already, please."

Now the silence feels like it's chipping away at his HP. The lack of response is more threatening than anything before. He doesn't even have the courage to look at you. Not until he feels warmth against his cold hand. It's yours atop his.

"It's good enough. I just have one thing to say." You wait for your eyes to meet. Those golden eyes full of fear hide their true beauty. "Will you wait for me?"

"Wait...?"

"Wait for me until I graduate. So I can be with you."

"O-Of course! Wait...Wait- You want to be with me?!"

"I do. You're one of the most important people here to me. I want to stay with you, Idia."

A pathetic noise escapes him. Even he's surprised by the sound he makes. It's not a cheer or a yes, but something akin to a joyful cheap. This was definitely not the outcome he was expecting, but it was the best one he could have had.

"Just promise to come to visit every now and then, okay? If not, I'll get Ortho to drag you here," you chuckle. "Even if you're busy, make time for us."

"I will!"

"Thank you." You squeeze his hand. "We should probably celebrate your graduation- and us."

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 9

Yandere AU - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Tags : Yandere behaviors (duh), starday, negociation of bondaries

Thrawn opens his very special package and smiles to himself. It is quite hard to get those hormones, because they’re prohibited first off and after because they are an ingredient of the latest trendy hallucinogenic drugs on Coruscant. People kill for them.

For him they have the very neat effect of slowing down considerably the parathyroid hormone production, preventing a swiftly recovery of fractures and fissured bones. You don’t know it but he laced all your dishes with it, slowing down your recovery. You should take more than 10 weeks to recover instead of the standard 6 to 8 weeks. All of that is bonus time with you for him!

But he’s curious about the hallucinogenic effects too. He may try them on you as a reward or punishment, he doesn’t know yet. He dusts the powder on the icing of the cake.

Today is your starday! He would never forget such a date, he planned a nice dinner, a present and a romantic movie to watch together after. Or he will let you think you choose a romantic movie yourself, but he thought about it for several weeks ahead.

“(Y/n), it will be time to bathe you.” he announces to you with a stoic voice as he enters the bedroom, hiding his excitement. “Oh… Okay…” each evening you have the crazy hope you will escape it, each evening he undresses and massages your body meticulously to clean it. He knows you don’t like it, but you surrendered by now, you know, deep down, that you can’t escape him and so you stopped making it complicated for him. You’re not relaxed under his hands yet but it is easier now. 

You curse that time of day while he can’t wait for it. Each evening he takes pleasure in choosing in which soap he will bathe you today, adding oils and perfume and special body cream to make your skin smooth (all under the pretenses it will ease the pain of your bruises of course.)

You’re suspicious of him of course. Who wouldn’t in your situation? That is why he takes care to not spend too much time on the erogenous zones of your body, despite his deepest wishes, and to clean your whole body thoroughly. He chooses modest garments to dress you, with just one slit here and there, nothing too suspicious. He washes your underwear that he steals from you regularly so you don’t notice them disappearing. He never touches you more than necessary, he might have just taken a handful of your plump thighs in his hands, but come one, he just needed to find a good grip on you to carry you! 

One day you flatley refused to be bathed, plain and simple. You turned your back to him, crossing your arms. He was, of course, prepared for that eventuality. “May I know why?” He asked calmly but with authority, “Because this is terribly humiliating!” You exploded “You see me naked each and every day, I feel exposed and violated! And the way you touch me…”, “I do not remember touching you in an unreasonable way.” he says like he doesn’t see the problem and you are being the unreasonable one. You just shudder, “Yeah,I know. But still, this crosses my boundaries in so many ways! I would rather we stop.” 

Like hell he will stop.

“I do not see the problem.” He flatly responds. “In the Ascendancy we bathe all together to strengthen the bonds between family members and friends in hot springs.” he recalls, a hand on his chin. That must be his most outrageous lie to date, “We are more modest here.” you counter “We do not show our naked body to simple friends.”, “I see.” he continues, “But I have a different view of modesty and nakedness than humans, we are not shy about it, we see it as a simple aspect of life and of a body. Nothing to be shy or embarrassed about. I have bathed naked with numerous female colleagues and friends before.” You slowly turn your head towards him with pursed lips, he tilts his head to you. “This is a very asexual activity for all of us, free of judgment and ambiguity.” It couldn’t be more false, Chiss are as conservative if not more than humans on that subject.

You look into his eyes to see if he is lying, as usual his gaze is clear and resolute and you can’t get any info out of it. You bite your lips, “Even if you say that, it doesn’t help the shame I feel.”, “The shame of what? Being vulnerable with a friend?”, “To be powerless! I’m an officer of the Empire and can’t do anything on my own right now!” you shout, annoyed. “(Y/n), this is a simple bad patch. You will heal and recover your power. You just need the assistance of a friend.”, “Well it is humiliating!”

“Would you have preferred a human colleague to do it instead of me?” He taunts, pretending to be compassionate. You remain silent, thinking. “No. In retrospect it is better if it’s you.” You admit “You wouldn’t… You would never take advantage of a situation. I trust you.”

And this, this is why you let him do it. Because he succeeded to convince you that he is better than this, that he is upright and a man of honesty that would never hand on a woman in any way shape or form. He is the ever the stoic Grand Admiral Thrawn after all, he is known to be brutally honest and direct. And that is true, to a certain extent. He would never take advantage of a situation over anybody, even his former partners. If one man would never be bothered and interested by such basic needs and desires, it’s him. 

But they weren’t you. They didn’t have your perfection. They weren’t his darling… They didn’t obsess his mind like you do, plaguing him at all hours of the day and night.

You can’t see him behind you but he’s grinning at your words. How you blindly trust him, believing in his personna so fully, after all he mastered the mask for years. Not even Eli has the slightest idea of what is going on in his mind. All the emotions raging on behind the meticulously crafted aloof and disinterested expression, all the perverted fantasies that kept brewing within him since his younger age. How would you be able to see right through him?

He has some “mishaps” here and there but you make quick excuses for them because he is just above any suspicion. You never saw him hitting on someone, caressing someone, seeing any true inner desires appear through, he must be above baseless desires and romantic sentiments! He forces you to appear naked before him? His relationship to modesty and nakedness are fundamentally culturally different, what are you gonna do? Fly to the Ascendancy to check? He massages your naked body with body cream each evening? It is obviously to soothe your bruised skin, there is nothing weird here, why do YOU feel the need to make it weird? He helps you eat like a mother helps her young child, infantilising you? You’re in a cast, how do you expect to eat with dignity without your dominant hand? He joins you in bed each night, pressing your two bodies together like a couple would? You’re the one complaining it was cold in the first place, why are you always dissatisfied with the solutions he proposes?

He’s just trying to help you, why do you always feel the need to make it difficult for him? Him who takes time off his crowded Grand Admiral agenda just to help you. Aren’t you a spoiled and ungrateful woman to question his actions?

Every time you have a concern or a reluctance he looks at YOU like you're the crazy one, why looking into it? He raises an eyebrow, looking at you like an animal in a cage going in a frenzy, why are you always questioning his good intentions? Him who saved your life! How ungrateful can you be! He’s simply trying his best to help his friend, why give him bad intentions? Why look into his actions suspiciously? Him who forgave you your treachery. Isn’t he a saint to both forgive you AND helps you out of your misery? He’s not obligated to do that after all, if he’s fed up with your antics he could very well send you back to the med bay, at the mercy of your tormentors without any protection. How can you even doubt him? If we look at it he is the true victim between you two.

This is what you’re torturing yourself with each sleepless night, feeling his warm body pressed against your back. Rummining each and every little action like you’re the crazy one. All those gut wrenching doubts clashing with the proper and honest portrayal you have of him.

But that is what he wants you to do. To doubt your own feelings and very well justified fears. To lose grips on what is truly acceptable and what is obviously crossing a justified boundary.

 So you let him do it… You stopped fighting and lowered your defenses. You just grit your teeth and suck it up while he takes his twisted pleasure in forcing you to submit. Tonight will be no exception. He lifts you off the bed and heads toward the bathroom.

Once this is done he dresses you in a fancy dress with sparkle and lace and not your usual pajamas. You tilt your head to him, eyes full of questions. “You did not think I forgot what day it is?” He asks you with a lopsided grin, “I planned a delicious soiree for us both.”

He carries you to the living room where a gentle music plays, dim lights create an intimate atmosphere, a candelabra burning on the table overflowing with food. “Happy Starday, my friend.” He says softly, laying you on your attributed chair, “I took the liberty to ask for dishes from your homeworld, to make you feel at home, at least a little bit.”, “Oh Thrawn…” You murmur emotionally “This is… You shouldn't have! It is too much!”, “Come on now, there is no “too much” when we celebrate a friend.” He counters, opening a bottle of champagne, “I know you the crew celebrate each starday with a little party, I wanted to know how it feels like.” He simply explains. You feel an icy feeling at the bottom of your stomach, those little parties are reserved for the crew members and some ensigns, typically the hierarchy doesn’t get involved so Thrawn was never invited.

Did he… Did he wanted to come? To celebrate with all of you?

“Thrawn I-” you start but he cuts you with a gesture of the hand, “I know you don’t want your superiors to mingle in those parties. I understand it. I just thought today would be a good occasion to enjoy it at a lesser level.”, “Thrawn, I am sorry.” You offer, sympathetic, “If we knew… If I knew you wanted to enjoy those parties I would have invited you. But I didn’t think you would even care, you’re always so detached from everything.” You bite your inner cheek, how many evenings did he spend in complete solitude while you partied, getting drunk on cheap booze with friends?

“No need for excuses, Cha’cah. You are here tonight, that is what matter.”, “No, Thrawn really! We would have welcomed you if you’d asked!” You feel like such a bad friend now… You never once checked on him to know if he wanted to party. “Let us focus on you tonight.” He cuts the conversation short, “I hope it will taste good, I cooked some of the dishes.”, “You…? Oh maker, and I’m not even sure what the date of your starday is…” You hide your face in your hand, absolutely mortified. Wow, you are such a miserable friend! It’s a real mystery what he even sees in you. 

You just hear a light chuckle in response. “You have all the time in the world to memorize it.” He serves you both and starts cutting your roast to manageable pieces. He picks one piece with the fork and extends his hand to you, “No!” You say firmly, “Let me try.” You seize the forks with your non-dominant hand and bite into it, your movements are unsure and clumsy but you manage to eat your meat on your own, absolutely determined to not let yourself get pampered and getting some autonomy back! You smile at your success “Hell yeah, look at that! It’s less easy than you can believe!”

He observes you with a false smile. Why are you trying to eat on your own? Why not let him do it? You had such a thing going on, why try to rob him from it? He will ask for more difficult dishes to eat from now on. He eats little bite by little bite, observing you finishing your plate with your stupidly blissful smile on your face. Why are you so happy about getting away from him, even for an inch? Everything was so perfect and now you can’t think of anything else but leaving him behind! 

But he smiles, a gentle smile, a smile friends give when another progresses. But his eyes don't sparkle. He’s ruminating while you speak enthusiastically, at least this little dinner is giving you back some life… He, at least, gets to enjoy your laugh.

He opens the cloche for the desert and your eyes open wide. This cake… It is the cake you asked your mother for each year when you were young. A favorite of yours you didn’t have in years.

“How did you knew?” You ask incredulously, “I did my little investigation.” He answers enigmatically.

He is in contact with your family for months now. He knows where they all live and have their personnel numbers. He talked to them for weeks, presenting himself as a friend of yours. Well, that isn’t lying, no? He even talked to your homeworld friends, he decorticated your life from every angle, examining you under a microscope behind your back.

“Oh maker, that scent… So many memories.” You utter, lost in your memory. He lights up the candles and pushes the cake towards you, you can’ help but chuckle, “Thrawn, I’m not a kid anymore.”, “Humor me, I find this tradition with candles most interesting.” You blow the candles out and claps, thoroughly amused, drooling at the simple sight of your favorite childhood cake. You try to cut two parts yourself, just managing to mash them, destroying the presentation completely, “Oh no!” you laugh. You eat, your hand trembling, but with a smile on your face.

Once you’re finished and avidly licked your plate of all the cream he takes out a velvet box that he hands you with a gentle smile, “Happy Starday, my friend.”. He opens it with a “click” letting you admire a golden choker with little white diamonds sprinkled on it, something is engraved and a little chain dangling, making a hoop, at the center, harmonizing the piece. You touch it with the tip of your fingers, eyes wide open and sparkling.

“Oh wow…” you can only say. “Do you like it?” he asks, “It’s beautiful… What is engraved?”, “It is your name in cheuhn.” he explains, rising of his seat to put in on you.

It is not your name. It’s written “my cha’cah” in cheuhn. You don’t need to know, but he will see his claim on you each time you decide to wear it, proudly announcing to the world that you belong to him. And he can't wait to attach a chain on the little hoop…

“May I ask the price?” You ask, worried. “No you cannot. It is improper to reveal it.” He shuts you down with a smile in his voice. He paid it a little fortune, but you’re so worth it! He chose the most expensive precious metals and diamonds just for you…

He carries you to a mirror for you to admire yourself. “So this is how my name would be spelled in Cheuhn?” You ask curiously, “Yes.” He lies with a thin smile, “You wear it perfectly.”. You admire yourself a little more and ask him to take it off, “Why?” he asks confused, “I just don’t want to scratch or damage it.” you explain, raising your valid hand to try and unclip it. “Please.” he seizes your hand mid movement delicately “Wear it a little more, I want to admire it on you.” You look at him surprised, but oblige, it isn’t unreasonable. So you keep it, letting him admire you with what’s basically a dog collar with his claim on you. He can’t keep his eyes out of your precious adorned neck, devouring you with his gaze like a salivating predator. 

Oh you are so beautiful like that…

It only misses the chain with what he could tugs you closer to him, choking you a bit, hearing your delicious gasp as you are being pulled in his embrace. He can’t wait to make love to you with it shining on your neck.

You mind absently touch it from time to time, it is just a little too tight making it a little difficult to breathe in. Just as he asked the jeweler.

To finish the soiree he carries you back to the bed where he puts on a romantic movie. He doesn’t like them especially, too sappy for his taste, but he knows you’re an avid watcher of the genre. So he will gladly oblige, for you he will go to the other side of the universe, so watching some mushy movies is a piece of cake. He very gently, very slowly, passes his arm around your shoulders, pressing you close to him as you sigh away at the main lead declaration to their lover. “Isn’t it beautiful?” you ask “To devote yourself to someone to such an extent?” your eyes are glued to the screen, not noticing that his red burning rubies are on you and not the TV. “I guess it is…” He sighs, lost in your beauty, so close and so far away.

But not for long now…

He just needs to be a little bit more patient and you’ll be his forever.

@bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

☆Tag list

[arpmemething2]

Quotes from Firefly/Serenity Sentence Starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.   Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

“Let’s go be bad guys!”

“Ten percent of nothin’ is … let me do the math here … nothin’ into nothin’ … carry the nothin’ … ”

"We’re crooks. If everything were right, we’d be in jail.”

"Nothing buys bygones quicker than cash."

“Like woman, I am a mystery.”

“Oh, I think you might wanna reconsider that last part. See, I married me a powerful ugly creature.”

“Every man there go back inside or we will blow a new crater in this little moon.”

“Well, maybe I’m not a fancy gentleman like you, with your … very fine hat. But I do business. We’re here for business.”

"How can you say that? How can you shame me in front of new people?"

"Um, I’m trying to put this as delicately as I can…how do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?"

"Go to blackout! We're being buzzed!"

"Well, I guess death will solve the issue to everyone's satisfaction."

"Everybody plays each other. That's all anybody ever does. We play parts."

“Did something just fly off my gorram ship?”

"You guys had a riot... on account of me? My very own riot?"

“We’ve done the impossible, and that makes us mighty.”

"It's been a big day, what with the abduction, and all."

"I'm not sure you'd be safe."

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

"Seems like a lovely little community of kidnappers."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're exactly where you ought to be."

“Can we maybe vote on the whole murdering people issue?”

"If you take sexual advantage of her, you will burn in a very special level of hell. The kind they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater."

"Go play with your rainstick."

"Don't make yourself sick."

“Mercy is the mark of a great man.”

"I don't suppose you'd find it up to the standards of your outings. More conversation, and somewhat less... petty theft and getting hit with pool cues."

"You gonna give us what's due us and every damn thing else on that boat. And I think maybe you gonna give me a little one-on-one time with the misses."

"I cannot abide useless people."

"Mmm. You missed a spot."

“Man walks down the street in a hat like that, you know he’s not afraid of anything … ”

"This is the place. We'll buy you the time."

“Also? I can kill you with my brain.”

“Psychic, though? That sounds like something out of science fiction.”

"It’s not embarrassing to be a virgin. It’s simply one’s state of being."

"That's why I never kiss 'em on the mouth."

"I been waiting for you to kiss me since I showed you my guns."

"I'll be in my bunk."

"They don't like it when you shoot at 'em. I worked that out myself."

"Drunks are so cute."

“Going on a year now, nothins twixed my neathers not run on batteries.”

"He's not wildly interested in ingratiating himself with anyone, yet he's very protective of his crew. It's odd."

"How we treat our dead is part of what makes us different…than those did the slaughtering."

“The important thing is the spices. A man can live on packaged food from here ’til Judgment Day if he’s got enough rosemary.”

"I think you have a problem with your brain being missing."

"Okay! Everybody not talking about sex, in here. Everybody else, elsewhere."

“First rule of battle, little one … don’t ever let them know where you are.”

“Terse? I can be terse. Once, in flight school, I was laconic.”

"Don't you just love this party? Everything's so fancy and they have some kind of hot cheese over there!"

"I hate to bring up our imminent arrest during your crazy time, but we gotta go."

“I don’t think of myself as a lion. You might as well, though, I have a mighty roar.”

"You can't open the book of my life and jump in the middle."

"I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar."

“I aim to misbehave.”

"Live with a man forty years. Share his house, his meals… speak on every subject… then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

"Every man there go back inside, or we will blow a new crater in this little moon."

“You know what the chain of command is? It’s the chain I go get and beat you with until you understand who’s in ruttin charge here.”

“I cannot abide useless people.”

"I I ever kill you, you’ll be awake, you’ll be facing me, and you’ll be armed."

"You are very much lacking in imagination.”

"Call me if anyone interesting shows up."

"Very well-bred petty crook knows that the small concealable weapons always go to the far left of the place setting."

"This must be what going mad feels like."

"You don't seem to be lookin' at the destinations. What you care about is the ships, and mine's the nicest."

"Remember that sex we were planning to have, ever again?"

"Someone's carryin' a bullet for you right now, doesn't even know it. The trick is, die of old age before it finds you."

“If anyone gets nosy, just …you know … shoot ’em. “

“WHOO-HOO! I’M RIGHT HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE! YOU WANT SOME O’ ME?! YEAH YOU DO! COME ON! COME ON! AAAAAH! Whoo-hoo!”

"I'll do anything you want me to. You know how I can make you feel."

"I need this man to tear all my clothes off."

“Someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill ’em right back!”

"Sorry to interrupt, folks, but y'all got something that belongs to us, and we'd like it back."

“Next time you want to stab me in the back, have the guts to do it to my face.”

“I’ve been under fire before. Well … I’ve been in a fire. Actually, I was fired. I can handle myself.”

“I’ve been out of the abbey two days, I’ve beaten a lawman senseless, I’ve fallen in with criminals. I watched the captain shoot the man I swore to protect. And I’m not even sure if I think he was wrong.”

“In the maiden’s home, I heard talk of men who weren’t pleased with their brides…”

"Got your next heist planned?"

"It's good to be home."

"She still has the advantage over us."

"Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people killed."

"Yeah, but she's our witch."

“We’re not gonna die. We can’t die. You know why? Because we are so very pretty. We are just too pretty for God to let us die.”

"Can you stop her from bein’ so cheerful?"

“How did your brain even learn human speech?”

“Yes sir, Captain Tightpants!”

"You are such a boob."

"You don't need strength as much as speed. We're fragile creatures. It takes less than a pound of pressure to cut skin."

"Your mouth is talking. You might wanna look to that.”

"You guys always bring me the very best violence. "

"Every problem is an opportunity in disguise."

“We got some local color happening. A grand entrance would not go amiss.”

"I'm assumin' y'all were listenin'? Did you hear us fight?"

"I... I threw up on your bed."

"I swallowed a bug."

"I'm... trying to think of a way for you to be cruder. I just... it's not coming."

"It sounds like the finest party I can imagine getting paid to go to."

“Now I did a job. I got nothing but trouble since I did it, not to mention more than a few unkind words as regard to my character so let me make this abundantly clear. I do the job. And then I get paid.”

"I said you're a coward and a piss-pot. Now what are you gonna do about it?"

"You paid money for this, sir? On purpose?"

“I swear by my pretty floral bonnet, I will end you.”

“Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realize certain words were exchanged. Also, certain… bullets.”

"You were truthful back in town. These are tough times. A man can get a job, he might not look too close at what that job is. But a man learns all the details of a situation like ours... well... then he has a choice."

"So you had to be naked?"

"So… are you enjoying your own nubile little slave girl?"

"Just keep walkin', preacher-man."

"We crashing again?"

“No power in the verse can stop me.”

"I know something ain't right."

“‘Course, there’re other schools of thought.”

"Can't miss a place you've never been."

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"Physical appearance doesn't matter so terribly. You look for compatibility of spirit. There's an energy about a person that's difficult to hide.You try to feel that."

"Can we fly somewhere with a beach?"

"What gives you the right to put her in a dangerous situation like this?"

"I think I've been kidnapped."

"Money wasn't good enough."

“Well, my time of not taking you seriously is coming to a middle.”

"Is it bad that what she said made perfect sense to me?"

"See, morbid and creepifying, I got no problem with, long as she does it quiet-like."

"What was that?"

"Well, you were right about this being a bad idea."

"Haven't you killed me enough for one day?"

"You save his gorram life, he still takes the cargo."

[zorosleftshoe]

Snippet of “Cherry Pie - (c.b)

“I told you to be civil.” Sam’s eyes are anything but accusing as the words fall from his lips. He knows I had only retaliated in self defense as Colby had backed me into a corner. “I don’t know why you two can’t just get along.” I take a seat next to Sam and pat his back in a friendly manner.

“Would you like for me to go apologize?” He shakes his head and my shoulders relax at the thought of not having another interaction with Colby.

“That would just start another world war three and I can’t deal with the headache. I still have to finish the editing.” Sam groans before collapsing against the back of the couch and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Colby has my laptop charger.” With a heavy sigh, I rise to my feet and dust off my all too tight black shorts.

“I will ask him for it, okay? I’ll apologize for the whole fiasco and have a talk with him.” Sam’s face shifts as worry glosses over his delicate features. “It’ll be fine.” At this point I’m not sure if I’m trying to reassure Sam or myself. “It’s just Colby.” The stairs seemed to grow longer with each step I took towards what I could only consider impending doom.

It wasn’t that I hated Colby. If anything, I felt complete indifference towards him, given he had quickly shut me down and left me wondering what I had done wrong after our first meeting.

Colby’s door was shut and I couldn’t help but feel myself inch backwards towards the stairs. This was a stupid idea. With a heavy sigh I find myself rapping my knuckles against the wood of his door. In the distance there’s a soft groan before footsteps. The door opens and Colby’s head peaks through the small opening he has allowed. His eyes widen as he drinks in my figure standing before him.

“What the hell do you want?” I can feel my blood already beginning to boil at his words but I suppress what I’m feeling for the time being.

“Sam needs him charger.” He grunts before going to move away but I’m quick to reach out and lightly touch his hand that is still rested against the door. “I also wanted to apologize.” Colby’s eyebrows raise in what I can only assume is confusion.

“Why the hell would you do that?” I cock my head slightly and he shakes his head before opening the door enough for me to squeeze through. “I thought this was our thing?”

“Huh?”

“Hating each other? I thought that was our thing?” He asks scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I never said I hated you. In fact, I never said anything about how I felt about you.” I pause fiddling with a loose hem on the bottom of my shirt. “You would say all these harsh things and I felt like I had no choice but to retaliate. Eye for an eye type of thing.” Colby scoffs before settling beside me on his bed.

“If it means anything now, I never hated you either.” His words are much softer now. Any anger that has lingered before has vanished and was replaced with a new feeling. “I only said that shit because,” he pauses then. His hands are clasped firmly in his lap and I notice how he picks at the skin of his thumb.

“Because?” He groans in frustration before covering his eyes with his hands.

“If you’d give me a damn minute I’d tell you.” His cheeks, now tinted pink, puff up before he looks at me. “Because I was protecting myself.” My eyebrows twitch up in confusion at his words. Protecting himself? “You came hurdling into my life like a fucking meteor and I didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden this beautiful girl is here and she’s so fucking hilarious. She has the same interest as me, she’s best friends with my best friend, and she’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” He pauses, glancing away from me, clearly embarrassed. “I hate the way you make me feel.” These words are whispered as if they are a secret he isn’t quite sure he’s ready to tell.

[junkh3ad]

I’m having Some Thoughts about Pickles i want to share with the class today.

I think Pickles is more sensitive (at least internally nowadays) than he leads on to be, mostly because he’s had to be. Years of teen homelessness/early adulthood homelessness really did a number on his psyche. He’s gotten so use to burying his emotions and using drugs/alcohol has a coping mechanism to hide how he feels that now that he’s in a safer environment and surrounded by people who care about him (despite what they might say) he doesn’t know how to show it.

I think he’s tried more than once to cut his drinking in half. He’s spent days holed up in his room, Withdrawals racking through him with the force of a pissed off god. He’s sleeping in the bathroom just because it’s easier than stumbling to the toilet every other minute. People check on him, Nathan sits with him as he sweats and shivers and begs him for just one drink/line/hit of anything to make this hell stop. And of course, Nathan doesn’t say anything. Just stares at him, stone cold and unwavering with his reply of “I’d rather rip my organs out than do that.” because Pickles asked him to deny him whatever he’d beg for.

He wouldn’t last two months, Nathan finding him locked in the recording booth guzzling down a bottle of liquor with coke smeared on his face. They don’t talk for 2 weeks each time it happens, but no one acknowledges it. Pickles hears Nathan’s voice as his subconscious, hateful words calling him weak and pathetic for not wanting it enough.

When Pickles goes to Wisconsin for thanksgiving at the request of his mother, yet again seeking her approval, he’s yet again let down and shoved down due to Seth’s mediocre life pleasing his parents more than anything Pickles could ever do. He knows he can just leave, tell them all to fuck off and suck it but he can’t bring himself to. So he goes to the bar, he gets absolutely hammered before trekking back home and getting into a huge screaming match with his parents again. He calls Charles, who already has a hotel room booked for him and a flight for the next day ready. He spends that night on the phone with the band, laid out on the luxury suite bed with a bottle of Jameson in his hand as he listened to his mates chatter and tell him about how Murderface tried to do some stupid thanksgiving day special that went terribly wrong and how shitty it was when he wasn’t there to join in on their fun.

That’s when he reminds himself he found his family, scrapped them up from different garbage cans like he did to himself after running away. Hell be home by the afternoon tomorrow and can put this whole weekend behind him. He’ll be hearing Murderfaces voice yelling down the hall as Toki and Nathan make fun of him for something stupid he’s said. He’ll be watching gory movies with Nathan by the end of the day, and they’ll be sitting a little too close to each other for it to be normal, but neither will acknowledge it. Their hands will end up intertwined— without any acknowledgement too.

The first time he and Nathan make any sort of advance on the other is hurried and awkward, there’s hands groping soft skin and bites and scratching and curses. They don’t talk about it when they wake up the next morning, Pickles face turning beat red when Toki mentions the obscenely large bite mark on his shoulder that night before a show (Nathan’s white face paint nearly melting off with embarrassment.)

Pickles is adamant it’s not there, despite the red and blue bruising that radiates from the teeth marks. He pretends he doesn’t see Nathan glaring a hole through his head after the show, watching him sweet talk a woman in her late 30s into his bed. (he doesn’t sleep with her, and she goes home an hour later.) Only then does Nathan confront him, angrily asking who he thinks he is and why the fuck he brought some woman back to his room. This causes a whole argument, and surprise surprise it ends with Pickles pinned to the wall, Nathan holding him up with one freakishly large hand. They decide, after a jealous fuck, that there’s something they need to address (Pickles likes the jealousy that radiates off Nathan when women fling themselves at him, he’s never had someone want him so badly in every way.)

i just realized how long this all is but anyways i think about pickles a lot and his relationship with Nathan and found family and all that. if you read all that thank u love u hope u enjoyed my rambling!

[italiansteebie]

Love On Screen

Episode Two, Episode One, Also on ao3 (preferred format)

Steve started his next live with a giddy smile. 

“Guys. I’ve got a new muse, and he’s given me some positively grand idea’s. I’m literally so excited.” His eyes scanned over the chat, looking for the responses. “Ooo, okay ‘dustybun04’ asks ‘who’s the muse.’” Steve tried to hide his blush but he was unsuccessful according to the chat. “Okay, okay. He’s a twitch streamer, I watched his compilations like, all day yesterday and oh my god,” he gushed, feeling like a downright middle school girl at a sleepover. “His name is Eddie. Corrodededdie to be specific, I’m pretty sure his twitch name is the same thing. Guys. I’ve got a whole ass crush on this guy. I think it’s the chaotic energy. That’s why I keep Robin around, y'know?” And Steve knows that clip is going to be sent to Robin but he can’t even begin to care. 

He said bye to the stream, ending the live right as Robin texted him. 

‘stevo - u, me, collab.’

‘yes, when?’

‘now’

Steve sighed and packed his stuff. He knew how insufferable Robin could be when she got a new idea, and he knew that if he didn’t show up to hers in 15 minutes she’d be royally pissed. So he grabbed his stuff and headed out. Once he got there he knocked on the door with a fond sigh, this Eddie guy really got under his skin. “Get in Dingus, we’ve got much to discuss,” Robin said, shoving the camera in his face. “Are you already filming?” Robin nodded excitedly. She ran over to the couch, flopping down, ever so gracefully, and patted the seat next to her as she set up her camera on the coffee table. 

“We're going to play a game! What’s the last text you sent?”

“Oh so we’re jumping right in?”

“No time for games, Stephano, let's go,” she said, snapping her fingers impatiently. Steve eyed the camera and pulled out his phone, tapping the ‘messages’ app and sighing. “Okay… The last text I sent was… To you. Oh god, Rob. Do I have to read this out loud?” Robin cackled maniacally, “Yes, absolutely, yes.” Steve squinted at her before his mouth dropped open in realization, “Did you plan this?” Robin mimed ‘who me?’ while looking around. Steve sighed, she wasn’t going to let this go. “Okay. So, it was a few days ago and I said, ‘Rob, I think I am going to pass away if I don't find this guy's instagram. Please help.” Steve placed a hand over his face, hopefully hiding his blush. 

“Now show them who it is!”

Steve blanched, “No way!” 

Robin immediately went to grab his phone, eventually wrestling it out of his hand, showing the screen to the camera the screenshot of none other than corrodededdie in all its glory. “Stevie has a crush!” She sang, before smiling at him. “Okay, bye, Steve.” Steve’s jaw dropped once more, “Is that why you invited me over? Rob? I hate you so bad,” He groaned, and Robin just laughed, pushing him to the door. “Okay, I’m gonna go have sex with my girlfriend now, bye Stevvvee!” She sang as she pushed him out, slamming the door behind her. 

Steve faced the now closed door. “Okay then,” he muttered to himself. He knew if he talked about it, it was only a matter of time before Robin caught wind and spread it around like a disease. (It being his totally shameless crush on a chaotic gaming streamer). 

     He contemplated life during his journey back to his parked car, and just as he was about to call the whole thing off, his phone chimed with a notification. ‘Corrodededdie has uploaded a new video’ and it was almost embarrassing the way his breath got caught in his throat. He made the courageous decision to tap the notification while he was still in his car, parked in the parking garage of Robin’s apartment building. 

And he almost shit his pants when he saw the title of the video.

“Compilation of me freaking out over Steve goes to hell.”

That was him. He was Steve goes to hell. Oh my god, Eddie, the Eddie freaked out over him? Oh shit. He was really in for it now.     

—

Eddie was pretty much hyperventilating at this point. 

He knew the ramifications of mentioning someone by name in a title like that, but honestly. That was probably the most interesting part of his whole 12 hour stream. He should know, he lived through it, and then sat through it again to edit it. 

His job wasn’t the most glamorous, okay?

He only hoped Steve took it as a compliment and not that Eddie was a huge creep or something. If something were to happen, and this Steve guy really hated his video, then well. He was in deep shit. 

And that got him panicking. Should he take the video down? Change the title? No way, it’s already been up for like thirty minutes. And taking the video down won’t do anything, because he knows his viewers probably screen recorded at least part of his stream and those clips would be floating around before he knew it. Hell, they were probably already floating around. Oh shit, shit, shit.

And just as his finger hovered over the ‘edit’ option on the video, the almighty notification appeared on his screen. Someone had tagged him in something, this was not uncommon at all, but for some reason, he was inclined to see what this one was. Maybe it was a morbid curiosity? Either way, when he tapped the notification, it almost put him in the ground. 

It was a screen recording from one of ‘Steve goes to hell’s’ lives.

“His name is Eddie. Corrodededdie to be specific, I’m pretty sure his twitch name is the same thing. Guys. I’ve got a whole ass crush on this guy.”

He wasn’t proud to admit that that caused him to squeal like a teenage girl being asked to prom. He was outright giddy at this point and he only hoped his next move wasn’t too presumptuous. 

He found Steve’s instagram relatively quickly, and tapped on the messages option. ‘Hey, Stevie. I saw your live, and by now you’ve probably seen my comp… would u wanna like… meet up? Or something?” And before he could second guess himself and back out, he hit send. He was practically shaking in his boots awaiting the response, and luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait too long because the longest 30 seconds later, Steve had replied, rather enthusiastically. 

‘Omg yeah. Whtever you wanna do i am 100% down.’

‘sorry that was probably intense. I’d love to meet up. <3’

And oh god, he was even cuter over text. Eddie couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He typed furiously, planning their… date? Oh god, it was a date wasn’t it? And that just made him more nervous. 

—

The date had gone well. Really well. 

They had met up at some hipster restaurant that Steve had suggested and it was actually pretty good in Eddie’s opinion. And they hit it off. It was like an instant connection. You know when you see a friend you haven’t in a while and it just picks up right where you left off? That’s what it was like. 

They instantly became best friends, much to the dismay of Robin and Nancy, who they found out over dinner were their mutual friends, Steve having gone to school with Robin and Eddie having met Nancy when he was first starting out at a streamer convention. It was kind of crazy how small the world is, and how some cosmic force seemed to bring these two together so well. And it was an extra benefit that the pair of them seemed to really piss off their best friends respectively. Both Eddie and Steve found their dislike of the pair together hilarious. 

And so with the date having gone as well as it did, they planned for a collab in the near future. And Eddie was sure it was bound to create an awful lot of chaos that honestly, he was looking forward to.

[hlficlibrary]

hiii! do you have any fic recs where one or both of them communicate using sign language? 🥰

Hiii! Here are some of my favs that use sign language in them!

It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.

Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

Is it a sign? by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

“Also, I didn’t mean it literally,” Harry continues his rambling, gesticulating to support his point. “You don’t owe me a beer and I surely don’t expect you to buy me anything, it was just to start a conversation but you’re obviously not interested in that. Which, again, maybe next time an omega, or anyone really, approaches you, you could convey -” 

To Harry’s surprise, he’s interrupted by the handsome stranger, who’s been weirdly fixated on his lips the whole time. What a creep! 

“You speak so fast, I can’t read your lips like this.” 

What? Harry’s frown deepens and he just stares at the man, waiting for him to explain. Because why the hell would he need to read Harry’s lips? They’re not in some detective movie. 

The man rolls his eyes at Harry’s obvious lack of understanding. 

“I’m deaf,” he huffs and points to his ear. 

And oh. Yikes. That’s kind of embarrassing.

or, the one where Harry meets a certain handsome alpha at his sister's wedding and learns that speaking verbally doesn't have to be the only means of communication.

[evansbby]

My dilf story was literally a nightmare like…

I was dating this 40 year old man, and I had JUST turned 20 😭 I thought he was so hot, and he was rich so I thought I was living my y/n life. Anyways, he was married which I didn’t know. He told me he had kids, but that he was divorced. (idk what i was thinking, like i was ready to be a step mom at freshly twenty yrs old 😭) Eventually after like six months of us together, his wife found out and made my life hell. She found out where I worked and started screaming at me, and at that time I worked at a law firm, like it was very professional 😭😭 She called me a whore, a slut, a home wrecker, lots of racist shit (i’m colombian, she was literally calling me a bean muncher? saying shit like ‘go back to where you came from’💀) and I literally had no idea what she was talking about. ALSOO SHE LITERALLY SAID ‘go find another n word whose dick you can suck’ AS A WHOLE WHITE WOMAN LIKE WHAT??!! I WAS SO CONFUSED 😭😭 She then threw her coffee at me (thankfully it was cold), then keyed my car, slashed my tires and smashed every window.….yeahh 😀. Fun. Ruined my career there so I obviously had to quit (found a way better job afterwards thank god). Safe to say I broke up with him. It was this whole thing, like he was trying to gaslight me into thinking that that was his ex and that she was delusional 💀 He ended up paying for the damages, and paid my rent months in advance bc he wanted to make it up to me and get back together. We did not. After that he was still trying to see me and apologize, AND HE WAS STILL MARRIEDDD UGHH WHY ARE MEN LIKE THIS??? Two weeks later my period was late and I found out I was pregnant…yup…that motherfucker knocked me up😭😭

Now three years later and I’m watching reruns of every shrek movie with my baby girls...yes plural, as in twins 😭 I just want to clarify that I love my babies very much, and I honestly wouldn’t change it for the world 🙏🏼🩷🩷 He’s still married to that woman, pays a shit ton of child support and yes he does spend time with our daughters, but his wife hates my guts even though I tried to explain everything to her. So yeah, I do not let my daughters near her. He can only see our kids if I’m there as well, bc like I said, his wife hates me and literally threatened to kill me and my babies when I was pregnant.

So if you’re thinking about being with a dilf. don’t. Go read some dilf fanfics and stay at home 💀 I also lost my virginity to him, and even though the sex was amazing, i still feel guilty that I unknowingly slept with a married man. Stay safe girlies 🩷🩷

girl-

you managed to shock me with each passing paragraph like GIRL ARE YOU OKAY?!?!? that is… a lot to go through… from creepy older man to unknowing adultery to crazy wife to lying to RACISM to BABIES??? PLURAL??? TWINS??? 😭😭😭 bestie you went through it all !!! And more!

And this is what I mean like these older men who go after younger girls are highkey such LOSERS fr most of the time!!! I know we all have our dilf fantasies but the truth is why can’t these men be with someone their own age??? Why do they have to be with a girl freshly 20 or younger whom they have nothing in common with???

Also bestie the whole time I read this jaw dropping tale of yours, the part I hated the most was her embarrassing you in your JOB! Like I was thinking I hope she didn’t ruin your career and I’m so glad you have a better job now!!! And two cutie baby girls 🥹🥹🥹

But yeah, I think dilf fantasies are best left as fantasies lol

[chickensarentcheap]

Fandom: Extraction/John Wick crossover

Pairing: Esme Drummond and John Wick (platonic)

Face claims: Rachel Bilson and Keanu Reeves (obviously lol)

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @kmc1989 @karimac @asirensrage @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq @theesirenteller @ninjasawakenedmystar @mrsmungus

AFTER THE CUT:

Smiling, she raises her mug to her lips. “I’ll say it again, Jonathan; you’re a really good friend.”

“And about what you brought up…the whole ‘business proposal’ that never was…”

“Let’s not revisit that, okay? It’s not one of my finer moments. It was humiliating as hell. I’m still embarrassed. All these years later.”

“I didn’t say no because I was against it. In theory. Had it been another place, another time, another life, I would have gladly helped out.”

“I can’t believe I ever thought it was a good idea. Recruiting a friend to help out like that. I know I always wanted to be a mom, but…”

“I was flattered. That I was at the top of your list. And had things been different…had our lives been different…I wouldn’t have thought twice about going along with it. I just wanted you to know it was never about you; why I said no when you brought it up. It wasn’t because I was disgusted or thought less of you for asking. And I know you’ve probably thought it for years. That you were out of line.”

“I was, though. I was completely out of line. It’s a crazy thing to ask of someone. But thank you; for setting my mind at ease. It’s nice to know I wasn’t the issue. At least not in a bad way.”

“It wasn’t a good situation. With both of us being caught up in this life. Even if you’d walked away, I still would have been knee-deep in it. And that isn’t who you would have wanted to have a kid with. Someone like me. All the enemies I’ve made. That’s why I said no. Because you deserved so much better than that. Better than me. And I knew that guy was out there. Somewhere.”

“What’s the saying? ‘All’s well that ends well’? Had we gone that route, I never would have met Tyler. Which means I wouldn’t have Millie. And I wouldn’t give her up for anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Aside from her dad, of course.”

“And as far as this being a good friend? Being there the other night, all the help I’m giving now. I guess in a way, I feel owe you.”

“Not The High Table stuff again. I thought we agreed; it’s all water under the bridge.”

“I was thinking of something more important. More…personal.”

Esme smiles up at him. “Helen.”

Wick nods

She returns to looking at the window, drink clutched in both hands as fingernails repeatedly tap against the porcelain of the mug. “She was one of a kind.”

“She certainly was.”

They’d met in a coffee shop in Brooklyn, strangers living in nearly identical brownstone apartment buildings within a block and a half from one another. Two women living very different lives; Helen, a famous and world-renowned photographer, and Esme, only six months into working under The High Table. Frequenting the same cafe twice daily, their busy schedules, sought-after skills, and expertise had made anything more than warm smiles in greeting and simplistic, minor chit-chat impossible. But they had been paying attention; learning each other’s standing orders and one often treating the other. A rather simple gesture that means so much; signifying a door left open when it came to a potential friendship.

Fate intervened three months into ‘knowing’ one another; both finding themselves at the receiving end of some well-deserved downtime. An extremely rare occurrence of clear schedules that allowed them to stop, breathe, and take in the world around them. Helen was already seated when she’d spotted Esme stepping through the front door; calling out a greeting and then flashing that brilliant smile before gesturing to the various offerings on the table. It had been the start of something so beautiful; both surrounded by the sea of humanity that ruled over New York City, yet never feeling more alone. And they’d spent hours in that cafe; drinking countless cups of tea and coffee, sampling various desserts, and lamenting about ‘single girl life’ in The Big Apple. There’d been o talk of their respective careers; instead, they’d chatted about their hometowns and large yet fractured families.

After that, they’d prioritized meeting every morning, whether at the cafe, each other’s favourite breakfast spots, or even for jogs through Central Park. Helen quickly became not only her best friend, but a sister figure. Only four years separated them, but at times Helen had seemed so much older; wise, learned, brimming with positivity and always prepared with the perfect advice for any situation. Ad she’d been more of a sibling to Esme than any of her blood relatives had ever been; suffering through even her very early years with five older brothers that lived to torment her.

“I think about her all the time,” Esme swallows around the lump of emotion sitting square in her throat. “Even now, after all these years. She was my first friend…my ONLY friend...here. Outside of the circle, anyway.”

“It’s hard. Making any connections beyond all this. Most people…regular people…wouldn’t understand. Why we do what we do.”

“I’m right in the middle of it all and most of the time I don’t even understand it. And I know it sounds horrible; to say I’m at least glad she was gone before I left the city and moved to Prague. Had she been alive, I don’t know if my heart could have taken it. Saying goodbye.”

“She thought very highly of you. Always had something amazing to say about you. She valued your friendship. She would tell me that you were the sister she never had. Say how she would have given up all four of hers for one of you.”

“She was an incredible woman. Just so beautiful and so talented. And she was so perfect for you. You were perfect for EACH OTHER.”

“And that’s why I feel like I owe you. Because you were the one that brought her into my life. I got a chance at normal because of you.”

“It was merely a blind date. I just thought you’d be good together. And you were. You were so good.”

“Helen was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never thought I’d get away from this life. I thought it would always be ‘live by the gun, die by the gun’’. It never occurred to me that I could have anything more than that. Or that I even deserved to.”

“You sound so much like Tyler. The number of times he used to question the same thing; whether or not he deserved having me in his life. When really, it’s always been me that hasn’t deserved him. And considering five years ago…what I did to him…how badly I hurt him…I honestly don’t. I don’t deserve him. He should hate me. Not want anything to do with me. Yet here he is.”

“He loves you. Just as fiercely as he did back then. If not more. And there’s an extra layer to that now. You’ve made a human being together. He’s a dad again. How could he ever hate you? You’re the mother of his child. You talk about Millie being the greatest gift you’ve ever been given? I bet he’s thinking the same thing.”

[karatekels]

Fresh Start - Days 8 & 9

I'm baaaaack!

Note: I think I'm going to make this either an AU where Kreese never showed up, or just earlier in the canon timeline before Kreese reaches out to him. So at this moment, Terry is not involved in karate in the Valley beyond his own practice.

Days 4 & 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 (Future updates posted below!)

TW: Something that could be interpreted as non-con or dub-con, but only in the sense that in dreams, sometimes things don't make sense while you're in them.

---

Day 8

You wake up shivering, trying to feel around for your blanket without having to open your eyes. As your feet fail to find the covers, you recognize that you’re not on your bed, instead on a cold, firm surface that was smooth like marble. Confused, you open your eyes to a dark room.

Suddenly, a bright light is turned on above you, and you see that you are laying on a pedestal much like the ones used to showcase the sculptures back at the art museum. Looking down, you see that you’re naked, and look around for something to clothe yourself with, starting to panic when you hear approaching footsteps.

“Ah ah ah,” comes Terry’s familiar voice through the darkness, chiding you. “You stay right where you are.”

You find your body getting heavy, moving to obey and lay back on the cool stone, while your mind distantly questions what is happening. Everything feels foggy, making thinking slow and confusing. Terry emerges from the shadows and approaches you, and while you feel like you should feel embarrassed at him seeing you in this state… you don’t.

“Terry.” You say his name as a sigh, feeling a strong sense of relief and comfort as he comes to stand next to you, staring down into your eyes. Terry would take care of you.

He reaches down, brushing your hair behind your ear, and your body tingles as though a current of electricity was flowing through you, stemming from his fingertips touching your skin. You whole body shivers with desire, gasping at the sensation, and Terry smiles in satisfaction, blue eyes roaming over you with lust. He picks up a paintbrush in one elegant hand, leaning over you and tracing the features of your face with the tip of it. Your eyes… your lips… you fight to keep still.

“Why do you insist on resisting this?” he asks, trailing the brush down your neck slowly, his gaze following the path of the brush with the utmost focus as you turn your head to the side, giving him access to the side of your neck with a soft cry. “Let me give you everything, Y/N.”

“What’s happening?” you ask him, your voice barely more than a whisper. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”

“I believe I told you that one of my vices is the collection of rare and beautiful things, my dear,” Terry croons softly, lightly stroking the paintbrush in circles around your nipples and making you arch your back off the pedestal, a moan escaping your lips.

“You didn’t think that you were an exception to that rule, did you?”

---

You bolt upright in your bed in a cold sweat as you wake up from the dream, panting for breath.

What the hell was that?!

Never in your life have you woken up from a dirty dream like this, flushed and trembling on the edge of an orgasm. Your nipples are prominent through your top, and you can feel the stickiness of your arousal on your thighs. It had felt so real…

No.

There were a dozen reasons why you needed to stop that train of thought immediately. You had to see this man at least one more time while you were here, and needed to be able to act normally around him. You were leaving in less than a week, so nothing could happen; hadn’t you told Terry just a few days ago that you weren’t the kind of person who dated casually while on vacation? And that’s if he would even be interested… No, you weren’t going to go down that road.

You toss and turn, struggling to get comfortable, but your clit is throbbing with a need that you can’t ignore. Flopping onto your back with a huff, you slip a hand into your pyjama bottoms, wanting to bring yourself to orgasm quickly so that you could get some damn sleep. Stubbornly, you think of anyone else, of no one at all, but no matter what you try you can’t seem to reach the peak.

Part of you thinks Terry would find all of this greatly amusing, the smug prick.

Frustrated, you allow yourself to give in, promising yourself that it’s just this once, letting your imagination to pick up where your dream left off. The thought of Terry touching you with his hands, teasing you, looking down at your flushed naked body as you writhe beneath him has you coming quickly and coming hard, unable to prevent the soft moan of his name from pushing past your lips.

Sleep comes to you quickly afterwards, and no more dreams wake you in the night.

---

A clock tower somewhere nearby chimes noon, the day finding you glaring at your phone, placed perfectly in the centre of the table.

You haven’t touched it for hours.

How were you meant to handle this?

You know that you’re an open book, that you wear your heart on your sleeve; your emotions have always seemed to burst out of you. He would notice; he noticed everything.

Why did that dream have to happen? And if it did, why couldn’t it have happened once you were home and having to see him was no longer an issue? Or, better yet, it could have happened sooner, before you’d developed this fun friendship with him. You couldn’t exactly cut contact with him now without him being suspicious, and you had told him you would see him at least one more time as you stepped out of the limo last night.

He had been wonderfully generous with you, with his time and his money and his company. You knew that he was a lonely man, and it seemed cruel to make this connection with him only to rip it away without a moment’s notice. And more than that, you wanted to see him again; he had quickly become a friend, someone you could trust and talk to. Part of you had hoped you’d keep chatting casually, even after you’d gone home.

Stupid, stupid brain.

So, you had to face him at least one more time while you were here, and there was a distinct possibility that he would pick up on your change in demeanour. You were a terrible liar, so where did that leave you?

You groan, throwing things into your bag – trying to forget that Terry had given it to you – and flee from your hotel room, leaving your phone behind you, for once looking for a crowded place to lose yourself in.

Day 9 Terry’s POV

The first thing Terry does upon waking is check his phone, trying to fend off the surge of disappointment in the pit of his stomach as there are zero notifications indicating a text or a call from you. It had been more than twenty-four hours now that he had dropped you off outside your hotel, and he hasn’t heard from you since. Wasn’t your generation obsessed with your phones?

He had waited all day yesterday, anticipating a message from you – a joke, a request, a simple thank you for the night before, but there had been nothing. He had tried not to let it get to him, tried to go about his day as normal, but all he was doing was going through the motions.

He thought he and you were getting closer, making progress, helping you on your way to realizing you had feelings for him. Had he been wrong?

Part of him wondered why he hadn’t just texted you first, but his reasoning was simple; he thought you would call first.

When you hadn’t, it really got his hackles up, and he was too stubborn to make the first move and vie for your attention like some desperate fool, and now here he was, every minute inching closer to two days without hearing from you.

He hates how much you’ve gotten under his skin.

Stupid, stupid brain.

He gets ready for the day, skipping his morning meditation; he knows his mind well enough to know that he can’t focus right now. Instead, he heads to his private dojo, forcing himself to stretch before allowing himself to move through the kata. It was far easier to clear his mind when he had his body to focus on. He supposes it was similar to how you escaped into books…

He clenches his fist, angry that you’ve wormed your way into his thoughts.

He needed them out of his head.

He needed you out of his head.

Walking over to a heavy punching bag, Terry takes a deep breath and assumes the proper stance, planning on fully venting all of his pent up emotions through his fists and feet.

He lays into the bag for a full two minute round, grunting in exertion as he strikes with as much force as he can muster. As he does, he goes through what his former therapist had cited as the ‘5 Stages of Grief’:

Denial. It hasn’t even been two days yet; you didn’t leave for another five. Plenty of time to schedule a liaison with him.

Anger. Who the fuck did you think you were, anyway, stringing him along like this? Using him for his money, his influence and then dropping him the instant you got bored?

Bargaining. Perhaps a big show of his affections, literally sweeping you off your feet was the way to get you to see reason?

Depression. This was pointless; there wasn’t enough time. There had never been enough time. He had been born too soon, and you too late. He wasn’t getting his happily ever after.

Acceptance. He’d been down this road before. Maybe not quite this hard, or quite so fast, but he had survived heartbreak and worse his whole life. He would be fine.

By the end of the round, Terry feels like he has all but resigned himself to his fate. He was too old for love now anyway. He feels better; he might go meditate after all.

Terry takes a seat on the bench to the side of the training mats to slip his shoes back on.

His phone vibrates against the wood beside him and he freezes.

It wasn’t you, he assures himself, feeling his resolve to forget you shatter despite his best efforts.

Sighing, he picks up his phone, preparing to be disappointed by some inconsequential business matter.

Instead, your name flashes onto the screen, notifications for several text messages coming in.

Oh, thank God.

Feeling outright buoyant, he quickly unlocks his phone, eagerly scrolling to your messages:

Is my tour guide up for an adventure tomorrow?

I’m thinking Santa Barbara Botanic Garden? That’s the one you told me about, right?

And you have to let me pay this time or else!

You still wanted him, he thinks, his heart warming as he reads your texts. He watches the three dots dance as you type another message to him. They disappear and reappear before his eyes as you change your mind about what to say again and again, making him chuckle. You seemed to have two modes: racing through things a mile a minute or completely subdued, either asleep or hungover, and you were clearly moving at the former speed this morning.

He hadn’t been to this particular garden in years, but imagined it would be a worthy romantic setting for his next encounter with you. Scenic, expansive enough to ensure they had space to themselves but with enough nooks and crannies that there was potential for… privacy, should the need for it arise. If he had his way, it would.

You seem to have given up on sending a follow up message; Terry can almost picture you pacing around your hotel room, trying to think of something snarky to send him. He can’t resist toying with you:

                                                Or else what?

I scared Victor away, remember? I’m sure I can take you on.

                                                Big talk for such a small                                                 woman. I’m positively                                                 terrified.

You should be.

                                                Chivalry really is dead;                                                 you’re awfully demanding                                                 when you want something.

I’m a modern woman; I’m not afraid to push for what I want. Are you coming or not, Mr. Silver?

                                                Yes, I’ll be there, and I’ll                                                 even let you pay. But I’m                                                 driving. Be ready and                                                 outside your hotel by 9am                                                 …“or else”.

I’m already planning to hide across the street tomorrow morning, just so I can see what the other end of that threat looks like.

                                                Be careful what you wish for,                                                 Y/N, or you might find your                                                 time in L.A. unexpectedly…                                                 extended.

Don’t tempt me with a good time, Terry.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

---

Days 10 & 11 | Day 12-A | Day 12-B | Day 13-A | Day 13-B | Day 13-C | Day 14-A | Day 14-B | Day 14-C