#ngl drawing this one hurt a little

[froggychair05]

Putting this under a cut because major spoilers for the most recent chapter of Sugarcoated!!!

Ch. 7 vs Ch. 9

“And if you ever find yourself alone

Come ‘round, there’s always room for one more

When the wind is blowing cold, you know

All you gotta do’s knock on my door”

- Home by Josef Salvat

[zhukzubast]

how DARE you hurt our Long Nose

[cynicallyneutral]

how do u like ur toast? i’m bored as hell and will do literally anything but draw. lemme know which and why, and what do u put on it (if u do)

[averlym]

hi, i see you are on hiatus, but thought at some point you might like to hear that january 28th is henry’s deathday ~ holiday anon

another one bites the dust (haha because you hoover dust)

[ouiouimochi]

Soshiro Hoshina headcanons

pairing: soshiro hoshina x reader

genre: romance, fluff, miniscule baby sized angst

wc: 1k

warning/s: short, there's mention of seggs but only that-not much details, no beta we die die, wonky phone format yey

note: "bold italic" means it was spoken in a different language

✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑

he's deffo a polyglot— he's part of a renowned traditional clan. I'm sure he had lessons as a kid since he's a direct heir? he also reads a lot of literature so that's something

pre-dating, soshiro would definitely be telling you phrases in different languages

you may or may not understand some if not all of what he says

but one day, he made a mistake (or was it?) of saying his confession in a language you actually understood and can respond in

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too” you'd respond

so when dating him, he'd call you all sorts of endearments in different languages

your favorite has to be the one he uses in your native language/the language you understood

that's bc it reminds you of how he confessed to you— wait maybe he's been confessing to you all this time but you just weren't aware

you loved it when he spoke in the language only you two knew (as far as everyone was concerned)

your flirting consists of calling each other by endearments in different languages

the poor defense force can only watch and listen

imagine what's it like to be in operations and hearing,

“Good luck, mi amor”

“Aking sinta, be careful”

although they barely understood, they knew the context from your tones

cue the groans of embarrassment from everyone aside from you two lmao

you two bond over reading

it'd be funny to have the two of you be the duo where one reads classical texts

the other reads ahem ahem fanfiction

we know who is who here

soshiro would be open to listening to your fanfiction rants

he thinks how fanfiction sometimes has better plot than some of what he read

he'd sometimes catch you smiling and kicking your feet up in the air and softly smiles at how adorable you were

he'd know what genre you were reading by your reactions too

he knows you're reading fluff when you're smiling and giggling to yourself

he knows you're reading angst when you bite your lips

he knows you're reading smut when your face is just blank

soshiro would definitely tease the heck out of you for reading smut while in his presence like,

“Dear, I'm right here?”

like why go for fiction when you can go for the real thing right?

he would definitely pout if you don't take notice of him while you're engrossed with reading

he definitely bites

like come on what are those fangs for if not for that-

imagine you two were just cuddling and he let the intrusive thoughts win of biting you

ever since then, he kept biting you randomly

his bites would hurt— sometimes would draw blood if he felt like it

it comes so randomly too like

he's having cuteness aggression? he'll bite you

he's hugging you from behind? he'll stuff his nose into the curve where your shoulder and neck meet then bite

he just want to bite you fr

even sometimes during bedroom activities ngl i dig that-

his breakup trope is definitely the “his first priority was his job, you were second” or “he had too little time to spend on and with you”

ik it's been covered by a lot of writers already but d a m n it hits like a truck

imagine he had to say at the start of the relationship that he can't promise to make you his priority

that you were not the first thing he'd come runing to

that he won't always be able to come home

that one day he won't even be able to come home

you were a fool to believe that you understood, that you accepted it

but to save you the pain, he breaks up with you, or you break up with him

he was fully aware of what a relationship with him implied

up to the imagination if you two ended up back together or just full on angst

when you get married or engaged, he'd give you a ring and would be absolutely obsessed with how the band looks on your finger

even though it's impractical for a soldier to have a ring on the field, he'd hang it on a chain around his neck

reminding him about the promise he must keep close to his heart

a promise to come home to you

he'd always touch and rub the ring on your finger

when he hugs you

when he cuddles you

when he claims you (aha)

one time he overheard you gushing about your ring to your friends and he couldn't help but smile

he'd note to himself to tease you about it at times

when there was someone hitting on you(if someone had the balls to lmao) he'd come up to take your hand in his

he'd bring it up to his lips to kiss the ring specifically so that the person trying to flirt with you focused their attention on the band

so that they'd take the hint to back the fuck off

you found his gesture to be endearing and he ends up habitually doing it every time you see each other

when you're on your period

he's very careful with you

very very soft and affectionate to you

absolutely spoils you

but there are times that he’s busy with his duties, so he stops by to check on you whenever he was free

he'd constantly be asking if you needed anything before he went to your quarters

suggestive 18+ CHILDREN LOOK AWAY

there would also be times when you two were cuddling

he would be horny— it just happens I don't make the rules

you know he's in the mood when he cuddles you from behind, digging his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder

he’d leave behind light kisses at first, before proceeding with longer and wetter ones on your skin

“Soshiro?”

“Hmm?” he'd act innocent as if he didn't have his hardened crotch pressed up against your ass

“I'm on my period”

“So?” he grins into your skin before biting down

“Soshiro, no” you smack him

buuuutt if you were also in the mood

imagination 🌈✨

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taglist: @justwinginglife , @lumiambrose , @minasfwoopyponytail , @ryescapades, @iamjellyfish , @17020 , @floweringdaisie

[moon-lit-petal]

From Chaos to Comfort Pt1

George Weasley x Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader

Summery: George becomes acutely awear that sometimes, people aren't the biggest fans of his and Freds pranks.

Warning: enemies to lovers(?) George fell hard and fast. I tried to do a slow burn but you can tell I gave up lol. Also, Y/N is a little mean to George Ngl

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: I have almost 12k words written already xD But after my 5k Neville fic, I figured I'd take this one a little slower and give myself time to proofread and make adjustments, for now? Chapter One!!also georges face in this Gif omfg

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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

The quiet halls of Hogwarts were where Y/N felt most at ease—especially in the dimly lit corners of the library or the serene grounds at night, where the only sounds were the wind rustling through the trees or the occasional hoot of an owl. As a reserved Hufflepuff, she preferred these moments of tranquility, keeping out of the spotlight and far from the bustling excitement that so often dominated the school.

Unfortunately for her, Fred and George Weasley didn’t share her preference for peace and quiet. In fact, their favorite hobby seemed to be drawing attention to those who tried to hide from it—particularly Y/N.

On this particular evening, Y/N had settled down in the library with a stack of books, hoping to get some quiet reading done before the day ended. The library had a hushed atmosphere, with only the occasional whisper or the soft turning of pages to disturb the stillness.

But that all changed in an instant.

One by one, the books she had carefully chosen began to glow faintly before bursting into song—loud, off-key, and echoing through the entire library. It started with the first book in her stack, a thick volume of Transfiguration spells, which suddenly belted out a shrill tune:

"♬ I’m a magical tome, filled with spells and rhymes, cast a charm on me, and I'll sing for all times! ♬"

The next book joined in, followed by another, until her entire pile of books formed a chorus. Y/N could feel the eyes of everyone in the library turning toward her as the cacophony grew louder and louder. Laughter rippled through the students around her, and even Madam Pince, the strict librarian, seemed too flustered to immediately react.

Y/N's face flushed a deep red as she frantically tried to shut the books, but they wouldn't stop singing no matter how many times she slammed them shut. The laughter and whispers grew louder with each failed attempt. Her humiliation only deepened when she spotted the identical grins of Fred and George Weasley from across the library, clearly enjoying their handiwork.

That was the last straw. Furiously shoving the singing books into her bag, Y/N stormed out of the library, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could still hear the faint echoes of the enchanted books singing behind her as she hurried through the corridors, ignoring the amused glances and hushed snickers from passing students.

"I swear, I’m never speaking to either of them again," she muttered to herself, her fists clenched in anger. She couldn't even tell Fred and George apart half the time, which only made it worse. It was easier to avoid them both altogether, and that's exactly what she intended to do.

But deep down, a part of her wondered if it would be that simple. After all, it was Fred and George Weasley—masters of mischief. Avoiding them might prove to be an impossible task.

----------

In the days following the library prank, George couldn’t shake the memory of Y/N’s reaction. While Fred had laughed it off, pleased with how the prank had turned out, George had noticed something different—something that stuck with him more than he expected. He had seen the hurt flash across Y/N’s face, the way her cheeks flushed, not just with anger, but with humiliation.

At first, he tried to brush it off. Pranks were what he and Fred did. They brought laughter, lightened the mood, and sometimes, yes, embarrassed a few people in the process. It was all in good fun, wasn’t it? But George couldn't quite convince himself this time. For some reason, the image of Y/N storming out of the library, her fists clenched in frustration, kept playing in his mind.

Fred, on the other hand, barely gave it another thought, moving on to plotting their next grand joke. George, though, found himself paying more attention to Y/N in the days that followed. It wasn’t something he did consciously at first. He’d catch a glimpse of her in the corridors, her head down, her pace quick, always avoiding eye contact with others. In the Great Hall, she often sat at the very edge of the Hufflepuff table, picking at her food while quietly observing the lively chatter around her, as if she were a part of the scene but always apart from it.

The more George noticed her, the more his curiosity grew. Why did she keep to herself so much? Why did she seem to go out of her way to avoid people—even more so after their prank in the library? And why, of all things, did her quietness intrigue him?

During one particular afternoon in the library, George found himself sitting a few tables away from Y/N. She was engrossed in a thick book, her brows furrowed in concentration. He watched as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger, completely absorbed in whatever she was reading. There was something peaceful about her in those moments—a calmness that contrasted sharply with the chaos of his own life.

Fred, of course, remained blissfully unaware of George's growing fascination. He saw Y/N as just another target for their pranks, and to him, the twins’ antics were a way of livening up the mundane routines of school life. But George found himself torn. The more he observed Y/N, the more he realized that there was something about her that went beyond the surface—something he admired. She didn’t seek attention, didn’t thrive in the spotlight like so many others did. She seemed content in her own little world, even if that world often seemed lonely.

But Y/N, still furious about the library prank, had no interest in any of the Weasleys—least of all George, who she still couldn’t distinguish from Fred. As far as she was concerned, the twins were a package deal of trouble and mischief, and the less time she spent around them, the better. Whenever she caught sight of George, she would quickly turn the other way or disappear down a different corridor, determined to avoid them both at all costs.

George, however, wasn’t ready to give up just yet. The more Y/N distanced herself from him, the more he found himself wanting to understand her, to know what lay beneath that quiet exterior. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was curiosity, or maybe—just maybe—it was something more.

----------

The days at Hogwarts had grown increasingly tense for Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed impossible to escape the pranks that followed her like a shadow—pranks she was certain came from both Weasley twins. Whether it was her quill turning into a puff of glitter mid-essay or her robes suddenly sprouting a cascade of flowers, Y/N felt like a constant target. Every laugh that echoed in the hallways after a prank only deepened her frustration.

And George, always nearby—watching her, noticing her—was no exception in her mind. She never saw him without assuming he was plotting alongside Fred. Every time he appeared, she would tense up, bracing for whatever prank they’d cooked up next. To Y/N, they were the same—partners in crime who found amusement in humiliating others, especially her.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, George had slowly started pulling away from the pranks, his growing guilt making it harder to join in on Fred’s antics. He had tried to distance himself, letting Fred take the lead while he hung back, watching Y/N more than participating in the mischief. But to Y/N, it didn’t matter. She saw him as guilty by association, and every time she spotted him, her resentment flared.

The tension between them simmered under the surface, waiting to boil over. That moment came one afternoon when Y/N, in a hurry to get to her next class, rounded a corner and collided with someone—George.

The impact was sudden, and Y/N’s heart leapt into her throat. Her body tensed, and she flinched instinctively, taking a step back as if expecting an explosion of fireworks or an instant prank to follow. Her breath caught in her chest as she braced for whatever humiliation would come next.

But nothing happened.

George, equally surprised by the sudden collision, raised his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see—”

Before he could finish, he saw it—the way Y/N had recoiled at his touch, the way her eyes flickered with distrust, her whole body stiffening as if she were preparing for yet another prank. His stomach dropped at the realization.

“Y/N, I—” George began, but the words faltered. He could see the wariness in her expression, the way she avoided his gaze, the way her shoulders remained rigid, ready for disappointment. His chest tightened with a pang of guilt. She saw him as no different from Fred, no different from the pranks that had made her the center of unwanted attention.

Y/N didn’t give him a chance to explain. Without a word, she brushed past him, her shoulder grazing his as she hurried away, her head down.

George stood there for a moment, frozen in place, watching her retreating figure disappear down the corridor. Her reaction stung more than he’d expected. He hadn’t meant to scare her, hadn’t meant to make her feel like this. But how could he undo all the pranks that had come before, all the times she had flinched at the mere sight of him?

Fred’s voice echoed in his mind—“Come on, George, it’s all in good fun!”—but it no longer felt like fun to George. Not when he saw how deeply it had affected her. He clenched his fists, determined to show Y/N that he was different, that he wasn’t what she thought he was.

But for now, the tension between them lingered, thick and unspoken, a rift caused by misunderstandings and misidentification—one that George desperately wanted to bridge, even if Y/N wasn’t ready to see the difference yet.

----------

It was another dreary Monday morning in Potions, and the last thing Y/N wanted was to be paired with any of the Weasley twins. But, as fate would have it, Professor Snape announced the pairings, and her heart sank when she heard George’s name called alongside hers.

Y/N shot a glance at George, her lips pressed into a thin line. He walked over to her, offering a tentative smile. "Guess we're partners, huh?"

Y/N barely looked at him, focusing on gathering the ingredients from the shelf. "Looks that way."

George rubbed the back of his neck, sensing her reluctance. "Listen, I know you probably think I’m going to mess this up somehow, but I promise I’ll be serious about this. No pranks."

She finally turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

George chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “Well, considering my track record, yes. I really do want to help.”

Y/N sighed and handed him a few ingredients. “Just don’t blow anything up, and we’ll be fine.”

As they started brewing, the conversation remained minimal, but George kept trying to break the silence.

“You know,” he said, stirring the cauldron, “I’m actually pretty good at Potions. Don’t tell Fred, though. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Y/N gave him a sidelong glance, clearly skeptical. “Right.”

“Seriously,” George said, trying to sound casual. “You’d be surprised.”

Y/N couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at her lips, though she quickly hid it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

As the potion bubbled away, George continued to sneak glances at her, noticing the small expressions she tried to hide. There was more to her than her quiet demeanor, and it only fueled his curiosity.

“I’m not as bad as you think,” he said after a while, his tone more sincere this time.

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, focusing on measuring the next ingredient. “You still think this is all a game, don’t you? Even now.”

George’s smile faded, and for a moment, he looked unsure. “No,” he said quietly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N paused at his words, glancing at him again, this time with a hint of surprise. But before she could say anything more, the potion bubbled over, and they both scrambled to fix it, their brief moment of connection slipping away in the chaos.

----------

Later that week, Y/N was sitting in the library, trying to concentrate on her studies. The library was her refuge, a place where she could escape the noise and chaos of the school—and, more importantly, avoid the Weasley twins.

But just as she was getting lost in the words on the page, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Mind if I sit here?”

She looked up, annoyed to see George standing there with an uncertain smile. “The library’s big enough,” she replied coolly. “I’m sure you can find another seat.”

George hesitated, but instead of leaving, he sat down across from her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d talk to me after Potions.”

Y/N scowled, clearly frustrated. “Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to talk to you?”

“I figured as much,” George admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But I also figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

She huffed, focusing on her book again, though she wasn’t really reading. George’s presence was too distracting. He wasn’t like Fred. There was something quieter about him, something that made her defenses waver ever so slightly, though she hated admitting it.

After a few moments of silence, George spoke again. “I’m sorry for everything. I know Fred and I have caused a lot of trouble for you, and...well, you’re probably sick of hearing it, but I really didn’t mean to make things so awful.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to him, and she could tell from his expression that he was being sincere. But she wasn’t ready to forgive so easily.

“You think an apology will fix everything?” she asked, her voice sharp. “You and Fred don’t get it. You don’t care how it affects people, do you?”

George frowned, sitting up straighter. “That’s not true. I do care. Fred… well, he doesn’t think before he acts, but I see what it does to you. And I don’t like it.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, skeptical but slightly softened by his words. “Then why haven’t you done anything to stop him?”

George hesitated, looking away for a moment. “I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was for you until recently. But I’m trying now. I’m not like that, I dont mean to be. I want to be better.”

Y/N’s expression softened, if only slightly, as she studied him. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, but she wasn’t ready to let her guard down yet.

“Then prove it,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Stop making excuses and prove you’re different.”

George met her gaze, determination flickering in his eyes. “I will.”

They sat there in silence for a few more moments, the tension between them palpable. Y/N finally returned to her book, and George didn’t push the conversation any further. But something had shifted between them—a tiny crack in the wall Y/N had built around herself, and George had noticed it too.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[sha-biest]

For the drawing prompts, Mikey and Gen Protective(hurt/comfort)?

Ngl, I was hoping for this one a little!

CW: blood/injury

[kumiaku]

Kinktober Day 13 - Branding (Kinich)

Kinktober Day 13 - Branding/Tattoos, Kinich x Reader, Genshin Impact

Masterlist

Misc. Tags/Info - Branding/Tattoo, Established Relationship, Kinich is giving reader a tattoo bcuz they are getting married, hush hush its not in game i just thought it’d be cute, ajaw is throwing up in the corner, slight cardiophilia, slight angst/hurt comfort, reader is a lil messed up in the brain ngl but its hot imo, dirty talk, no actual smut it's just suggestive, GN reader

WC - 683

Nsfw under cut

Kinich’s hands were bare against your collarbone, a low burn emanating from under your skin as his finger tips pushed over your skin. “Remember, you have to stay still.” 

You barely hummed, breath shorn from your lungs, his face was so very close to yours, and he leaned in even closer, eyes focused on your clavicle as he mapped out the area with his eyes. His warm breath bounced over your skin, his eyelashes low and so very pretty. “You have to breathe too.” He chided gently, ever the fusser. 

“I know.” You breathed out, then in, manually. Were you taking too deep of breaths? Why were you even this flustered? It was like it was your wedding day already, well, it might as well be. 

Your hand crept up Kinich’s chest, flush against his skin - just on the other side of his heart. You could feel it beating too, pumping a rhythm that you tried to steady your breath to, you wanted to press your forehead to Kinich’s, maybe kiss him, hug him, love him, but that’d make it all the more difficult for him to actually emblaze matching tattoos onto you. 

“Ready?” Kinich murmured, one of his hands dipping down to catch the needle in his steady hands, inky oil dripping off the tip as he tapped it once - then twice. It was a special needle, newly created as an engagement present for the two of you by Xilonen. 

It’d hurt, you tried not to tense, knowing that it’d make the lines on your skin less fluid if you shook or moved. But you focused instead on the gentle beating beneath your palm. You hummed a confirmation and bit your lip. 

Kinich breathed out as he began the first mark, feeling you tense in his hold. It hurt, but it didn’t hurt badly. It was a needle point stabbing pain, one that emanated in your skin and followed your muscles, but there was another feeling - an elation underneath it all.

That heart you held on the other side of his skin, the heart he was drawing over, the two would be forever connected. You would forever belong to him, until all of your skin rotted off, until your bones turned to dust, but even then you’d be connected to him. Even when Kinich died and Ajaw took hold, there would be proof of the love you shared on both your forms. 

Your eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything except Kinich’s, even if he wasn’t returning your gaze, instead fervently focusing on the small design he was carving and inking into your skin. You let a small noise slip as you swallowed your saliva. 

Barely half a second later, Kinich took back the pen, pressing it into the pot of ink to collect more, “I’d prefer you make noises of pleasure instead of pained ones.” 

“That was one.” You freely admit, fingertips tapping against his chest, gliding up to his neck and tracing the marking extending from his neck down to his midchest. “The thought of forever belonging to you, these marks devoted to our love.” 

Kinich let out a breath, his cheeks seemed to flush the slightest bit, his hand on your chest gripping your skin a little bit as he looked back over towards you. “Keep talking like that and I’ll want to get repaid, sooner than later.” 

Though it was meant as a tease, or a warning, you took it more as a promise, shifting forward in his lap, eliciting him to take in a breath. Beneath your ass you felt something begin to shift, growing stiffer. “Maybe we can do both at the same time.” 

“I’d mess up the linework then.” Kinich shook his head, pushing you back a little bit. You almost laughed, but stifled it when the needle returned to your collarbone.

You let out your deep breath slowly, patiently waiting for a moment that was convenient to reply once again, to tease him more than you already knew you had based on the hardness pressing against your ass. “Then you’ll just have to wait.”

[sl-walker]

Emergency Commissions

So, I have been unemployed since July and then Thursday night, a buck in rut decided to leap in front of my poor little Cobalt. She absolutely saved my son and I by taking the brunt of the impact, but obviously, she's not going anywhere anytime soon. I might be able to save her and do intend to try -- I've had her for almost ten years and almost 100K miles, and have been utterly faithful in my maintenance; I love this car dearly and she clearly loved us right back the other night by absorbing the impact of a gigantic whitetail -- but that's not going to be something that happens quickly.

In the meantime, I need a car. Despite being unemployed, the scrimping and saving and the help of family has netted me about 3500 I can put towards one. Unfortunately, even beaters these days tend to go for more than that. I have a job prospect I'm waiting to hear back from, but no guarantees.

So, in order to raise funds, I'm offering emergency portrait commissions.

The caveat is that they'll be pencil only, bust only portraits, because those are the ones I can do quickest and easiest. As for price: Pay what you think is fair. It takes me between an hour and two hours, usually, to do a pencil portrait depending on how elaborate you want it. I also typically don't take payment before the work is complete, so you could shaft me pretty severely, but I'd like to believe better of people than that. (I will be pretty hurt if someone sends me $5 or $10 for a portrait that takes me two hours, though, ngl.)

I can draw humans and humanoids, though the more elaborate, the longer it'll probably take. Love doing OCs for people. I'm less sure if I can do animals or furries, but I'd probably be willing to give it a shot if I have good references. Some examples of my pencil stuff:

Anyway, DM me here or find me on D*scord at sl_walker if you're interested! And please do feel free to signal boost.

(ETA: I'll also be posting new nails by my wife soon, too!)

[generalsdiary]

listen I might sound crazy but you know how Aventurine would spend all of his money on his family were they alive? like they grew up poor- worse than poor, and he is always gambling yes- but he is also insanely rich. you just know he'd shower them in money and buy everything for them and that credits today have little to no meaning to him because he has gotten them too late. it wasn't "fast enough" to save them, to ease their lives. and you just know he regrets it, but still hoards more credits, gambling, earning, wasting, etc.

now allow me to draw a parallel to a character in gi most of the fandom doesn't like. dori. LET ME SPEAK- dori's sister died (in her arms) from an illness because her family didn't have enough money to buy the herbs prescribed for her sister's treatment and that is why Dori ends up cherishing every mora/money, turns in a mora hungry capitalist powerhouse and makes everything about her; just money. because she couldn't help her sibling when it mattered. also the "limitless mora" for her comes from receiving a bunch of items from Alice (Klee's mom) - they made a business deal, etc, just a detail.

and it is interesting how most of the fandom dislikes dori so much (meta wise I get it, and also some other povs), when the parallel to aventurine is a straight line and he is loved and liked by so many (granted, I love riney). no amount of mora/credits can bring their family member(s) back or fix what happened, yet they stay in it, hoarding more, be it due to our boy's luck, or Dori's deal and persistence. I know many ppl draw his line to Kaveh, but from this pov it is screaming Dori.

and yh his story is more tragic- but we are talking money rn ppl- stay focused;

here is where their characters differ in the money area. with how little regard he has towards the money, Aventurine, our Kakavasha is so kind, so so kind. he gives out freely, he doesn't give two shits while sending money to the TB (it is worth mentioning that he thinks he also HAS to do it, and that gifts and things of high material value are most appreciated, ex. the gifts the TB receives after become the captain of the ship in penacony. he sadly has a view of it that everyone needs to be given something in return, truly struggling with forming real friendships/relationships except with the TB and Ratio- which I'd love to go more into on another analysis), he openly shares his money to whomever- and in his contrast, dori would probably rather jump off a cliff than give a single gold mora coin to... well, anyone.

both have been through such tragedy and turned rich later on through various means- when it technically no longer matters to them as much as it could've mattered before- and to see one be indifferent towards it/see it as a means to an end & what ppl respond well to vs. the other be stingy to the point she is hurting people while doing it and purposefully putting them in debt (I hate you for what you did to Kaveh TWICE, dori.), makes a really interesting parallel made by hoyo ngl. thoughts?

[lovebvni]

" ITS BRUTAL OUT HERE " - pick a pile

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│ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ...

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[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 14.8.22

[  ] published ⋮  14.8.22

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

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hey loves, so because i 1, got new tarot decks, and 2 want to call you guys out, im doing this. also - heads up before i even start - spirit said there's gonna be a pile where there are little/no callouts bc they're actually doing great. just some advice/motivation to keep them going

Hello! Welcome to a pick a pile. This is a general reading, everything should be taken with a grain of salt. Hundreds of people may read this, everything I say in your pile(s) may NOT resonate. Today we don't have questions. we're just going callouts. so prepare yourself, i know some of yall are soft.

along with these questions i will give things that may draw you to your pile. the alice in wonderland tarot has different cards but pretty much the same meaning. dont be shocked if instead of the hanged man i say suspention or something like that. i will be using tarot and oracle cards.

now please take everything with a grain of salt!

breathe in, now out, now pick a pile or two.

pile 1 ; pile 2 ; pile 3

hi pile 1!

confirmation for your pile: lowkey funny, life 'falling apart', consequences for your actions, business man/woman, equality, cycles, bakugou, passion, 'im always right, i know what im saying'

oracle: you are good enough - full moon in virgo

tarot: the hierophant, temptation, 7 of flowers, 5 of spears reversed, 9 of flowers

alright bros, the first thing i have to say is 1, you're not always the cause. bad things happen to good people and i know it sucks but it helps you grow. if only good things happened then you'd probably be boring as hell. i hear some of you guys can be because you cant keep a conversation going. the thing is, you may be a victim MOST OF THE TIME but that doesnt mean ALL THE TIME!! you can be wrong in an argument, you can be right in an argument. but it changes. you're a very driven, smart, confident person in most areas but that doesnt mean because you're the right person to be a firefighter but not a baker. 7 of flowers is saying dont back down from the things you KNOW you are right in, but when someone makes a valid point. take it, it can help you. being passionate is a good thing, but dont be ignorant.

temptation is something thats drawing you in, that one day will be negative. maybe its joining the football team but you'll get a serious injury. do not let anyone or anything tempt you that has high risks for pain in the long run. im not saying dont join that football team, but dont put yourself into situations that wont benifit you in the long run. there's a good and bad to everything. do not fall into or back into negative energies/things that didnt help you before. they sure as hell wont help you now

ngl i have no idea what this pile means during the second part

pile 2

alright so confirmation: tired, faking happiness, evolution, "PUT THOSE GRIPPERS AWAY", hawks, manifestation, abuse, Christmas, MHA, movies, memories, nsfw content, love desire, caring heart, makeup, procrastination, seven deadly sins

oracle: a time for healing - balsamic moon, expect powerful chance - new moon eclipse

tarot: 10 of spears, 7 of flowers, 3 of hedgehogs

so this is the pile whos done mostly nothing wrong. when i say mostly, i mean bc everyones made at least one mistake in their life. ofc theres still a callout. STOP BEATING YOURSELF UP! STOP BELITTLING YOUR PAIN, YOUR TRAUMA, THE THINGS THAT HURT YOU MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY EVERY SINGLE DAY!! let go of the past, its gone. its ending. get over it. that friend isnt coming back, they weren't right for you. let go of the past, accept it, and move forward. thats just some advice.

pile 3

hey pile 3

confirmation: false/negative manifestations, intrusive thoughts, self destructive behavior, gay, peaches (that one song omg), yung gravy, emotions, love, communication or lack of communication, birthdays, parties, celebrations

oracle: believe in the impossible - blue moon

tarot: 2 of cups, 4 of flowers, knight of teacups reversed

okay i got flowers in every pile, anyways this piles energy is of a pair.. two people or two piles? maybe you picked another pile. but its a harmonious pair. you guys may be for a long time, maybe shifting together, maybe you work on a lot of projects together? i heard you guys dont talk much but when you do its fun. you guys are a great pair. hold on to each other. i feel like once this pile overcomes toxic/negative behaviors they will shift. it depends on how fast you get rid of them/start manifesting positively.

change the way you see things, the emotions and reactions you have to things that happen. if you wake up in your cr and not your dr say something like "bro what?? why am i in my cr? thats odd, hasnt been like this before." see everything that happens in a different light. if you think that you saw something that was a sign btw, it was. take it and use it how you think its fit. use your talents, you know you can! practice the fun things you want to do one day. practive makes perfect!! get off your ass and do something. vent through an art form. you dont have to use words. you're doing nothing right now. you NEED to do something, but take a break from stressing yourself. its not helping anything

[morathicain]

Rewatching the final of The On1y One after the second season announcement and because sometimes pain and heartbreak and good acting and longing symbolism are a must.

Still baffled though, how some people see Tian's breakdown on the stairs as a teenage temper tantrum. Like how???

Of course, emotions probably get heightened by those teenage hormones but it's no wonder Jiang Tian is breaking down? Like, he's so torn between care and sadness and anger. And not because Sheng Wang is switching to another classroom, but because Sheng Wang did it on purpose. Because Sheng Wang, after being so close to kiss him during that one night and giving a glimpse of hope that the love might be reciprocated, CHOSE to go away from him. Sheng Wang, who promised to stay by his side, who'd become his home, Tian's personal safe space, the one who promised to be honest with him, messed up an exam to the point that he now has to stay away (to make himself fall out of love). This isn't about a little distance while learning (although Jiang Tian will miss him for sure) but after so many years of getting abandoned and not daring to believe he has a place, the one he finally gives a chance again, basically betrays him.

Of course, it's all about unspoken words and misunderstood feelings. Sheng Wang calling Jiang Tian "Big brother" in the end as a damn reminder to himself to keep his proper distance and be a good younger brother and for Jiang Tian it means a forced distance that pushes him away and also Sheng Wang burying whatever spark of hope there had been. He's drawing a clear line between them and keeping Jiang Tian on the other side. And all of that after months of bonding and getting closer and Sheng Wang pushing himself into Jiang Tian's life and comfort zone.

And he knows or at least guesses and that guess becomes clearer with everytime Sheng Wang avoids his gaze and acts so fucking guilty, literally curling into himself. Let's not forget Jiang Tian is able to read him so well because he cares and watches. And even when he's about to cry angry tears because Sheng Wang won't even admit he fluked it on purpose and doesn't give a reason (which proves the point that it's because of Jiang Tian and that hurts double) but curls into himself and is lying so obviously, Jiang Tian cares so fucking much, he brings mint and lemon water. But while he's still there, Sheng Wang won't even touch that. Not even talking of the bracelet ripping in the most beautiful of symbolic choices.

And then he feels as if he's getting replaced in Sheng Wang's new classroom and yes, Sheng Wang being away now, out of touch and reach, especially emotionally (and the distance is a physical and emotional one, a symbolic even) does hurt him and make him devastated. Because that way, Sheng Wang can keep the mask on way too well.

So yes. Yes, he might be a teenager and his emotions might be heightened but this is not an unreasonable tantrum (and even those often have reasons but might be harder to get from the outside). I'm in my 30s and if the person I loved and finally let into my life and who was my home and promised to stay, lied to me and made sure they had to stay away from me on purpose, avoiding me and not even admitting to any of it? I'd be angry and devastated, too.

WE know Sheng Wang's reasons for trying to keep his feelings in check and forcefully turn his love back into what's right again. He's had his whole sexual awakening and self realisation all at once, together with the shame and guilt for feeling that way. We know but Jiang Tian doesn't and for him, this all comes out of nowhere and leaves him alone where they'd walked together before.

But Jiang Tian can't keep his care hidden and still cares so much. Ngl loved when he claimed Sheng Wang's seat, angry at Wang for leaving but possessive enough to have this spot for himself now. As if to keep it for Sheng Wang or as if to have whatever is left of the boy he loves and this is something, no one can take away.

So yeah, yeah, I am in my feels and they're deep and crushing and painful and I love it. Can't wait for the next season!!

[arminsumi]

hey if ur up for it could u write promt 8 of friends to lovers for armin.. but like the reader teaches him how to kiss bc she really wants an excuse to finally kiss him? hehe

KISSING ON THE COUCH.

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン ⋅ fem reader

8 — "I'll teach you to kiss."

NOTE: wheee!! i'm ngl this prompt was made with armin in mind hehe 💗

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.7k

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

"Ah, yeah, I mean, kissing is a core part of romance for most people, right? But there's no way I can do that."

Armin's chatting with you in the living room of your parent's house, just like you've always done since you were kids.

"Why? Kissing is pretty fun." you look over at him, drifting from the interleading kitchen over to where he sits slacked on the couch.

He mutters a quick and sweetly Armin-esque thank you under his breath when you hand him a soda. Vanilla Cola, his all-time favorite; he's drank it since he was twelve and didn't intend to stop drinking it.

"But kissing is awkward... you know how my first kiss went." he grimaces at the memory. You let out a breathy laugh, he looks so cute, almost like a drawing of a cute boy rather than a real one.

"Personally, I wouldn't count that as a first kiss. You were, like, what? Thirteen?" you open your own soda with a pop. It fizzes loudly, the bubbles audibly popping.

He opens his own soda, but of course — he does it in such an Armin kind of way. Very delicately pulling the tab back with his very delicate fingertips, as if the metal hurt his sensitive skin. You know he had the worst acne phase out of all your friends, there are faded scars on his cheeks. Rather than mar his beauty, you think they add to it; of course he never believed you when you said that.

"I think I was fourteen. Didn't you have yours when you were — eighteen? Right?" he looks over at you, fingertip circling the soda can lid.

His eyes always get you. They're entrancing. Hypnotizing. Spellbinding. Armin's unaware of the effect he has on girls, but that just makes him even more attractive.

"I did, yes. No need to remind me." you grumble, taking another sip of your soda and coming to a kneel at the coffee table.

You two always sat like that; him lazily on the couch, you on the plush carpet by the coffee table. Always propping your elbow on it, squishing your cheek on one palm. In the middle of a conversation, Armin would mimic your pose just to get a laugh out of you.

"Eighteen isn't too old to have your first kiss. I've told you that before." he reassures.

"Yes it is! Some people have their first kiss when they're little kids."

"But those kisses don't mean anything. They're childish kisses." Armin says.

"What age d'you think people start having adult kisses?" you ask him curiously, setting your soda down on the table.

You watch as Armin looks up in thought for a moment, his hand swiftly wiping some residual soda liquid off his upper lip. How does he make everything so attractive? In fleeting moments like these, you felt a strong urge to kiss him.

I could kiss him. I just need a plan. We're on the subject of kissing already.

You plot your moves like you're playing chess. It really isn't that difficult, but to you it feels like an impossible match.

"I think, adult kisses — eh that's a weird way of saying it — good kisses are after you're eighteen. Or maybe when you've had enough practice? But never mind, I think all the kisses I'll ever have will always be slightly awkward because I don't know what to do." he says.

He glances at you. His heart pangs when you and him make electric eye contact and he looks away. "You know..." he begins, but you cut him off.

"Why don't I teach you to kiss a girl?" you blurt out. "I mean, we're friends. Why not. I mean if you want to. Just a thought..."

He cracks a shy smile, "Just a thought?" he chuckles, then sits up and sets his soda down after a brief moment of thought.

"Alright, teach me." he asks and pats the seat next to him.

You climb up on the couch and settle down into a comfy position next to him — oh, you're very close, he thinks. The proximity makes his heart pang again, he can feel it sharp in his chest. But why? I mean, like you said, you're friends.

Do friends sit on the couch practicing kissing?

"Don't look at me like that." you tease lightly.

He blinks at you, "Like what? Oh, sorry." he giggle and widens his eyes a little. You've scolded him for having bedroom eyes many times, and he's defended that it's not bedroom eyes but rather he just has naturally lidded, sultry eyes.

"So... question." he asks as you lean in. His breath fans your face, it makes your lips tingle. You can smell the Vanilla Cola.

"Hm?"

"Where do I put my hands? Because that's something I've never really understood..."

"Oh... well you can put them anywhere you like."

"Can you guide me?" he asks.

You look at him for a moment. His heart goes wild when you take his hands in yours. Yes you and him have held hands, plenty of times in fact, when you walk around town or when you run down the school corridors or while you explore abandoned buildings.

"Personally... I would want your hands here." you tell him, placing them on your neck, "And if you'd cup the back of my neck like — yeah, like that..."

Was it getting stuffy in here? But there's a good breeze coming in through the open window. Yet you feel like you're choking up. It seems like he is, too.

Warm hands cupping the back of your neck, gentle fingers holding you like a trophy, two big blue eyes staring into your soul.

He pulls you in for a peck. A sweetly awkward one. Your noses bump. Well, now both of you can't stop smiling which makes it hard to do anything.

You lean in for a peck, but it lasts longer than his and — oh my god, he melts. It's history from there. Feeling his best friend's lips sent him to another dimension, as dramatic as that sounds.

He's levitating when you keep pressing teaching kisses to his lips. He loves that you take your time, like you're savoring the taste just like when you sip on your soda.

"Y-you can tilt your head, too, it makes it feel better..." you tell him, a little short of breath.

His head spins a bit at the sensation. His lips are tingly.

"Okay..."

So he tilts his head into the kiss, and holds the back of your neck and slides one hand down and finds your hand. He holds it.

He breaks from the kiss, lips hovering hot over yours, and looks at you through his lashes. "Is this good?"

"Mhm. Really good. You're doing g-good." you assure him.

"Can I keep going?" he asks.

"Yeah..."

So he keeps kissing you, gliding his lips over yours slowly. If anything, he only gets slower. He's really trying to savor it. Like he savors the taste of Vanilla Cola.

Minutes go by, though time dissolved in your minds by now. It was just another meaningless concept. Did past and future exist? Well, did it matter while kissing? No. No it didn't.

You pull away. He blinks and sucks in a breath, bangs lightly ruffled from pressing so close to your forehead. He can taste you on his lips, on his tongue, you're pervading his whole system and he loves it.

"S-so... that's... yeah... any questions?" you laugh, regaining composure quicker than him.

"Huh? What — questions? Yeah... can we do that again?" he asks eagerly.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"What?"

"I just meant... like... keep teaching me. I think I can learn a lot from those lips." he backtracks nervously, Addam's apple shifting a little when he swallows sharply.

"Oh, right... well... y-yeah. Let's keep going then. Why don't you try kissing me now — mmf."

He goes in for it without hesitation. He kisses with his whole body, you can feel a surge of his passion wash over you, and he can feel a surge of tingles across his brain.

There's a lot of serotonin to be farmed from your kisses.

Light smacking sounds, subtle saliva sounds, lips on lips. He's never enjoyed kissing like this. But it's just practice. You're just teaching him so he can kiss... who? Who does he want to kiss? He doesn't have anyone in mind other than you.

He gets lost in it, and without thinking much he nibbles your bottom lip and swipes his tongue across it. You let him poke his tongue in and — well both of you melt harder than before. It's so impossibly soft. No wonder people praised French kissing. But did they ever get French kissed by such a gentle sweetheart like Armin? You were the only one to have that honor.

"Hah... sorry." he pulls away, breathless.

You pant very lightly, " 's okay..." you smile, "I don't mind if you... use tongue. I like it a lot..."

"Okay..." he gulps and then goes right back in to continue.

Weren't you supposed to be teaching him? It feels like that's not necessary, since both of your lips mold together perfectly. You and him are two matching puzzles pieces.

"Y/n?" he breaks from the kiss and looks down at you, hands gently squeezing both your hands now.

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

He slightly smirks, lips glistening with your saliva, "Did you really wanna educate me on kissing, or did you just wanna kiss me?" he asks. Damn that sharp intuition.

"If the latter, how would you feel about that...?" you ask tentatively.

His heart thumps. Throbs. Palpitates. Malfunctions. You look so sweet, he wants to kiss you again and again.

He doesn't answer with words, he just dives back in for a feathery kiss, tangling his body with yours. Hands cupping your cheeks, in a very indescribably Armin kind of way.

He speaks in between each smooch.

" 'shoulda — kissed me — sooner." he mutters, taking a deep inhale as he kisses you harder than before, leaning into your body, cupping your cheeks so comfortably.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[cellophaine]

Idk if I’m Doing this right lol. Anyways I wanted to request a Matt Murdock x Sleeping!reader something based on the reader that kicks hits and moves around a lot while being in deep sleep cus I know I do like really bad, one time I like hit my sister right in the nose when I was young lol anyways it would be funny to see like a Matt’s perspective on that and his reaction and maybe the reader denies it when she wakes up and they laugh about it

Unexpected

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Ngl the dialogues are a little rough in this one.

Author's Note: I hope I did your request justice!

Share and feedback are welcomed!

GIF Credit: @cinnamurdock-blog

Matt's night was going great. Hell's Kitchen was unusually quiet and relatively peaceful, which made him suspicious of what might go on underneath the false pretense. But it seemed like his neighbourhood was on its best behaviour tonight. Matt wasn't going to complain. He was grateful for it, as his mind kept circling back to his apartment, where you were. You finally felt comfortable enough to agree to stay the night at his place, and nothing could make him happier.

After a quick round in the more troubled area, Matt decided to cut his patrol short.

A course of excitement thrummed in his veins as Matt laid gentle steps on the creaky staircase. He listened to the steady heartbeat in his bedroom, waiting for his return. The silence accentuated your heavy breathing. He gently slid the door to his bedroom open not to wake you and made his way over. He felt around for your position and found you lying face down on the pillow, the blanket wrapped around your limbs in a way that couldn't be comfortable for you. With gentle hands, Matt turned you onto your back, straightened your limbs, and placed the blanket on you in a way that wouldn't suffocate you. He smoothed the hair on your forehead away before pressing a tender kiss on you. His lips curved into a soft smile at the smell of his shampoo on your soft strands.

After a quick rinse, Matt hurried back to the bedroom to find you in the same position he left you in. He carefully slipped underneath the blanket and shifted until he could comfortably wrap an arm around your torso. After a still moment of more contemplating, he pulled himself even closer into your welcoming warmth, and his heart swelled as the ache in his chest finally eased at the proximity between the two of you. Matt burrowed his face into the nape of your neck and took a deep breath, allowing your scent to envelop his sense. Sleep came to him easily, settling over his heavy eyelids.

Matt woke from the deep slumber to the feeling of you slipping out of his hold. He was startled wide awake when that was followed up with a dull hit of your elbow on his cheek, just a touch below his eyes. Bracing himself up on one elbow, Matt listened to the deep and steady draws of your breaths, a clear indication of your unconscious state.

Matt shifted back, allowing more space between you so you could freely move in your sleep. Still, he wanted to hold you in whatever capacity was available, so he put his hand on the crook of your elbow; his rough palm met your soft skin. He let the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him to sleep again.

That didn't last long as your hand met his face in a sharp smack just a few moments later. It hurt a little this time, but the sting only made Matt chuckle to himself at the irony. In your oblivious state, you managed to get some good hits on him than most people who tried much harder with much more malice. Besides him, you slowly returned to the position he found you in when he first got back. He turned your face sideways so you would be comfortable without blocking your nose. Matt lowered his head to place a kiss on your temple and flinched slightly as you twitched again underneath him. He resigned to the other side of the bed, woefully a little further away from you. He faded in and out of sleep at your spontaneous kicks, hits and moves throughout the night, crushing his hope of cuddling you.

The enticing scent of coffee teased his acute sense of smell, prying his tired eyelids open. Matt was greeted by your cheery mood once he made it out of the bedroom.

"Look who's finally up."

There was a teasing smile in your tone; he could hear it so clearly.

"What time is it?"

His words were muffled with a yawn.

"12:11."

You stood up from the couch and walked toward him; your soft steps on his floor felt feather-light. The rich aroma of roasted bean wafted to him as you got close, and he swiftly swiped the mug from you, taking a sip despite your playful protest. The taste was sweet, even though Matt knew you shared a similar taste in coffee. Slightly bitter with a touch of creaminess.

Maybe the sweetness came from you.

"Hey! Get your own coffee."

He chuckled, which turned into another yawn.

"You have no right to complain, sweetheart. Especially when you're the reason I couldn't sleep well last night."

Matt took another sip.

"What do you mean?"

"You moved … quite a bit in your sleep."

He pointed to the cheek you hit, prodding the prickled skin.

"I came home last night with no scratch, and I woke up with a bruise."

He tsked as you stood on your tiptoe to take a closer look at the pink patch on his face.

"Who knew I didn't need to go out to get beaten up?"

He said it with a cheeky smile. You huffed, putting your arms around your chest.

"Uhm, objection. I didn't do that. My sister could attest to it. We shared the same tent during our camping trip just a few weeks ago, and she said I stayed put the whole night."

Matt pursed his lips, pretending to mull over your claim.

"And guest what?"

His brows rose, beckoning you to continue.

"She's a light sleeper."

You playfully pushed on his shoulder.

"So it can't be me, Murdock. Your speculation has been disproven."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Objection. That's hearsay. The evidence is clear on my face where you assaulted me. Your sister has no credit on this case."

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest in a pretense of shock.

"How dare you use your big lawyer words against me?"

"How dare you?"

He retorted. You held it for a moment before bursting into laughter, feeling the air lighten at your repartee. Once you had settled down, you touched his cheek, the pad of your thumb smoothed over the bruised skin.

"I'm sorry. It seems like I'm still a little bit of a kicker."

Matt leaned into your hand, his eyes closed at your gentle caresses.

"It's okay. You're a cute kicker. I forgive you."

Matt leaned forward to peck your lips, and you sighed happily once he pulled away. You pondered.

"Maybe next time I can roll myself up in a … blanket burrito so I won't hit you?"

At your suggestion, Matt only smirked, and you knew almost immediately where his mind had gone to.

"If you want to me to tie you up, just say so."

You blushed at his suggestive tone, your hands wrapped around his neck as his arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you flush against him.

"Do you have time for a little … demonstration?"

You bit at the inside of your cheek, feeling his hands lowered to your barely covered bottom.

"For you? I always have time."

Matt picked you up and brought you back to his bedroom, the plans for your day temporarily forgotten.

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!* Follow my side blog to receive notifications whenever I post! @cellophaine-archives

[dollyknight]

One May and June episode could be about their fears and insecurity joining the family (maybe involving FOWL remains), and how the clan tries to made them feel welcome and loved.

Since getting this ask I’ve thought of an episode where the two deal with this separately so here’s another episode description as a treat. Albeit slightly modified to avoid some spoilers 

May and June learn what it truly means to have a family. 

I've been doing a full re watch of Ducktales 2017 for both research and for fun and I’ve just finished the life and crimes of Scrooge Mcduck( the episode in Huey’s season before the finale being a Louie episode is a little annoying ngl) so I haven’t gotten to May and Junes introduction yet but the characterisation I have for them for is under the cut

June: I’ve kind of split parts of webby’s personality and altered them to give them each their own personality which is still a little bit of a wip for now. For June I gave her webbys initial season one enthusiasm if you know what I mean. She’s excited and bouncy and wants to try everything there is to try. I imagine she’d be interested in things like art and ballet as well as loving the ocean even if she’s not that good at sailing. She also has a lot of respect for her sister May, based on that one scene where she cuts the strings on webbys board because may said it was wrong, which leads me to thing she also does things without thinking she doesn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings she still learning. She seems like she’d be a good gift giver, the type of person who knows what people like because she wants everyone to be happy, which does sometimes lead to naivety( but don’t get it twisted she’s plenty smart)overcompensation on her part but she’s working on it.

May: mays a lot more cynical then her sister and is protective of her. She doesn’t trust easily on account of her entire world shattering. She’s got more of webby’s warrior attitude and has a similar way of looking at problems to Louie( he probably ropes her into his schemes). Even though she comes off as grumpy and cynical she loves her family and would do anything for them, she has a lot of respect for Donald and daisy as well as Mrs. Beakley and Huey( he is collecting little siblings like pokemon you guys). I also imagine she’d be interested in fashion like her mom daisy and debate. I think she gets lots of book recommendations from Huey so she’s always reading. She butts heads with Dewey a lot, partly because the entire cast kind of just gets along, they don’t often have different conclusions or shown opinions from each other( like they’re all obviously different to each other but you don’t really see them draw different conclusions from each other too often) and also because she kind of opposes his sunshine everything’s okay personality. 

[hp-hcs]

I saw your post about being on a big Theodore kick and HONESTLY SAME. Gimme anything Theo and I’ll read it, a Theodore Nott x male reader would honestly be incredible because there’s SO LITTLE OUT THERE (my little gay heart is broken) the plot can be anything you want I just want a happy ending please ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

OH MY GOD THAT IS SO FACTS CAN WE P L E A S E STOP WITH ALL ‘X READER’S INHERENTLY BEING FEM-SPECIFIC????

Splinched (Chapter One) — death eater! theodore nott x splinched! male! muggleborn! reader

TWs: graphic descriptions of a wound, blood, injury, and the like; also theo’s just kinda a dick ngl

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sshhhh “…nother skirmish has broken out in D…”zzzzzz “…lley, leading to the fire that has com…” ssshhhh “…tely consumed Flourish & Blotts. It is with great sadne…” bzzzz “…nd regret that the Wizarding Wireless Ne…” sshhzzz “…ork News must inform our listeners of the murders o…” pssshzh “…Creevy and Florean Fortes…” ssshhhh “…ue. Additionally, the foll…” zzzzzzsssshh “…en abducted: L…” pssshhhzbbbbzzzz “…Alice…” zzzzzzzhhh “…Y/N L/N…”

Theodore smacks the radio once more and it goes quiet. You flinch back at the sudden aggression.

He mistakes the flinch for movement, whirling around and pointing his wand at your throat.

“Don’t. Move.”

You freeze, eyes wide, and nod rapidly.

Theodore grunts, turning back to his original task of stoking the campfire that existed as the only thing lighting the dark area. The heavily wooded space Theodore had chosen as a stopping spot for the night creeped you out. Branches constantly cracked nearby, leaves rustled with creatures passing through, and the trees rose up so high, the moon and stars were completely blocked out.

Shivering, you drew your meager cloak tighter around yourself, biting your lip in pain as you brush against your wound. You squeeze your nails into your palm to keep from crying out. The waves of pain seem never ending, the wound sending sharp stabs of agony up your ribs and across your entire torso.

“Fucking Salazar, are you really crying?” Theodore’s voice dripped with disgust. “You’re pathetic.”

“Strong words coming from a magical Nazi,” you bite out through the pain, scoffing bitterly. “Just kill me an’ get it over with, for both of our sakes.”

His face contorts into a vicious scowl and his grip tightens around his wand again. He stares at you with those terrifyingly dead eyes before moving closer to where you sit on the ground by the fire.

“You’re injured.”

“What?”

“Merlin, are you fucking stupid?” He spits. “You’re. Injured.”

“Thanks, Sherlock, I wasn’t fucking aware.”

He switches his wand to his other hand and moves even closer, tugging at the edge of your cloak. Your fingers, trembling with the pain and exhaustion you feel, let go of the fabric with no resistance.

“Lumos.”

You can hear Theodore draw in a sharp breath as he holds his wand closer to your torso. His other hand comes up and traces the edge of it with surprisingly gentle fingers.

You wince at the sudden flare of pain.

“Does that hurt?” He glances up at you. You could’ve sworn that for a second, something flashed through those dead eyes—pity, maybe, or sympathy, even?

“No, I actually always flinch whenever something doesn’t hurt.”

“No need to be a smartass,” he sneers, any traces of pity completely gone. “You got splinched.”

You grimace. “Fuck.”

“Indeed,” he drawls, tugging at your cloak. “Take this off.”

You mock-gasp. “Mr. Nott, I barely know you!”

“Merlin help me- I swear to Salazar, L/N…”

You roll your eyes and unfasten your cloak, letting it drop to the ground around you. You shiver in the late evening chill, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Theodore leans in closer, illuminating your wound with his wand. He cringes, his fingers once again returning to trace over the edges, trying to determine how large the injury is.

You gasp in pain, digging your nails into your palms again. Theodore glanced up at you, then back down at your torso.

“Think you could stand?”

You hesitate.

He nods, mostly to himself, and gets to his feet, slinging your arm around his shoulder and half-walking you, half-carrying you into the shoddy tent he’d been able to conjure. (“Believe it or not, L/N, I’ve never seen a muggle tent before. Stop laughing.”)

He helps you lay down on one of the blankets, you wincing with every little movement. He closes and wards the tent with a few simple spells, crawling over and kneeling by your side.

“Take off your shirt,” he grunts as he digs through his bag.

You comply, shaking fingers fumbling with the buttons. Theodore is caught off guard when he doesn’t hear any snappy comeback from you and glances over curiously.

Your shirt’s only about halfway unbuttoned, your fingers too slick with your own blood to unfasten the slippery buttons.

He huffs, smacking your hands away and unbuttoning your shirt himself.

He draws in another sharp breath at the sight. “Uh- this…is beyond my knowledge.”

Your breaths are shallow and your eyes closed. You nod after a second too long, blood rushing in your ears.

“‘ve you got thread an’ a needle?” You ask quietly after a moment.

“No. That’s barbaric. Fucking Merlin-” he huffs, grabbing his wand and trying a few simple healing spells that really don’t do much against a wound of your size.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. O-”

“If you say okay one more time, I’m going to punch you.”

It doesn’t seem like Theodore heard you. “We can’t Apparate, we don’t have a portkey, and you’re too injured to fly or walk. Fuck.”

“Aww, guess you’re gonna have to spend even more time with little ol’ me then, huh?”

“If you weren’t actively bleeding out, I’d crucio your ass so fast,” he threatens through gritted teeth.

“Kinky.”

Theo just sighs and rolls his eyes. “Don’t move. I’m gonna try to fix this, alright?”

“Yeah, cause you’ve been great at that so far.”

He doesn’t answer, instead slowly chanting a spell you’re completely unfamiliar with. You’ve never heard it before, but you can tell that every word that comes out of his mouth is absolutely dripping in Dark magic.

Gasping sharply, fresh, torturous pain claws at your torso, sinking its nails into your flesh and dragging the jagged edges back together. You can feel your bones being jarringly shoved back into place, your skin knitting itself back together twisted and wrong.

You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, your teeth drawing blood as you squeeze your eyes shut. Eventually, you can take no more and cry out in agony, weakly swatting at his hand for him to stop.

His wand falls from his hand with a clatter. He fumbles for what to do, settling on just gripping your hand and shushing you, as if you were a child.

Your chest spasms with the effort of taking a breath, and you grasp his hand back as tight as you can.

“Shit. Okay. Okay- uh, that’s- that’s enough, for now. We can pick this back up tomorrow,” Theo’s voice rises in pitch and his anxiety becomes palpable.

Your fingers tremble against the back of his hand, tears pricking at your eyes as you gasp in a breath. “H-hurts.”

“Shh, I know, I know. I’m sorry,” he whispers, keeping his grasp on your hand steady and smoothing down your hair with his free hand.

Theodore bit his lip nervously. The spell wasn’t finished; your ribs still looked like a jumbled up mess underneath stretched-taut skin. Your entire torso was a mess of contractured scars that left your skin looking wrinkled and messed up, like someone had pulled a running stitch through a piece of fabric too tightly.

You, one of the most bitingly acerbic, tough-as-nails guys he’d ever met, had been reduced to a whimpering, crying mess under Theo’s spell. You still held his hand, but had turned your head to press your face against his knee, mumbling incoherently under your breath.

Theodore could feel the Dark magic of his spell fizzing and crackling off of you. He bit his lip again, deliberating, before gently moving your face back from his knee so that he could lie down next to you.

You blindly reach for him, his hand on your shoulder gently guiding you to bury your face into his chest. He wraps his free arm around your shoulders, keeping you close.

Theo squeezed his eyes shut with every muffled whimper and cry that came from your lips, mentally berating himself for the odd flutter of his heart he feels when you cling to him.

Stop it, Theodore. Now is not the time.

Well…why isn’t it?

He’s alone, in a very small tent, with a cute guy who is utterly reliant on Theo for survival.

Really, what’s so bad about making the best of the current situation?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Two