#seriously i'm a bit stumped

[onthearrow]

POLL TIME

I am attending a friend's wedding in Tokyo next month and need to rent a kimono. I have an obi I plan on wearing (pictured below). Please tell me which kimono you think would best suit the obi:

Here's the obi:

Here are the kimono options:

[cigarettes-and-black-eyeliner]

Obsessed with this !!!!

[sweetlyvibe]

PERIODS SHOULD COME WITH INSTRUCTIONS

You curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the TV. The cramps were relentless, and your mood had taken a nosedive. You sighed, wishing this day would just end.

Rintarou shuffled into the room, phone in hand, completely unaware of the war your body was waging against you. He plopped down next to you, gently nudging your shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, his eyes briefly flicking to the snack wrappers scattered around. "You've been quiet all day."

"I'm on my period," you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Rintarou blinked. "Oh... right. Period stuff."

You nodded, trying to suppress the wave of irritation bubbling up, but his cluelessness was doing little to help.

"Is there anything I can do? You want more snacks?

Heating pad? Wait, no, I think you're supposed to, like... drink water or something?" he rambled, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

You couldn't help but groan. "Rin, you've been my boyfriend for how long, and you still don't know what helps during a period?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Hey, I'm trying! There should be a guidebook or something."

You glared at him, the cramps making your patience run thinner by the second. "What do you think I am, a video game? 'Oh, press X to relieve cramps? No, you genius, just... I don't know, don't act dumb for a second."

He blinked again, obviously not expecting the sass.

"Alright, alright, sorry. No dumbness today. Got it," he replied, though you could hear the playful tone sneaking in at the end.

But you weren't having it. "Rintarou, I swear if you joke one more time, I'm going to Google "how to bury a body in silence."

He chuckled under his breath, clearly not taking you seriously. "Is this what they mean by 'mood swings'?

You're like, one roast away from a stand-up special." You turned to him, eyes narrowed. "You're not even funny, Rin. That's why you never got invited to any comedy shows-because you're the joke."

His mouth dropped open slightly, completely taken off guard by your sudden roast. He blinked in confusion, looking at you like you'd just challenged him to a duel.

"Wait, hold on. When did I become the target here?" You gave him a pointed look. "When you decided to be all 'haha, mood swings' while I'm suffering. I'm in pain, and you're the one making jokes? How about I trade places with you and see how you handle it?"

Rintarou's playful expression vanished, and for the first time in the conversation, he seemed genuinely stumped.

"Uh, okay, yeah, fair. No more jokes," he said, a bit more subdued.

You let out a deep breath and slumped back into the couch. "Thank you."

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "So... uh, want some chocolate or something? I can go get some."

You rolled your eyes, a small smile finally breaking through. "Chocolate is always a safe bet, Rin."

Rintarou nodded, still looking a little bewildered but clearly trying. "Got it. Chocolate it is. And maybe, like, some flowers? Just to be safe?"

"Flowers won't fix the cramps," you replied dryly.

"But they might fix me, right?" he said, giving you a hesitant grin.

You groaned, but this time it was softer. "Fine. Go get the chocolate and flowers, you big idiot."

Rintarou chuckled, standing up to leave. "On it, boss."

As he walked out, you could hear him mumbling something about how "periods should come with tutorials." You couldn't help but smile, despite everything. He was clueless, but at least he was your clueless boyfriend.

. 🏐 〃 ⋯ TAGGING : : @avensonly @yoghurtsan @lxdymoon0357 @achy-boo

[wolfiesmoon]

Obtaining warmth

Jack x gn!reader

oh man this fic concept is a throwback isnt it :) i decided to revisit it bc i find it sooooooo cuteeee <3

i thought the idea fit really well with jack too, especially since he says himself he isn't much of a romantic

You rolled over on the bed, looking at Jack who was currently turned away from you, body rising and falling slightly from each breath he takes.

He definitely isn't asleep yet, you can tell. And it kinda bothers you that he's turned away from you like the two of you just had an argument when you just had a normal day. He never was the super romantic type, but sometimes the two of you talk in bed right before falling asleep and today is one of the days that you miss that type of interaction. It's so casual and yet it feels so warm and domestic.

But tonight you're missing a different kind of affection.

You kinda want cuddles right now. No, scratch that, you really want cuddles right now. And since Jack won't do it on his own, it's sure to work with a little push in the right direction.

"Jack, are you still awake?" you ask in a hushed tone despite already knowing the answer. He hums in response, subtly telling you he's listening.

"I'm cold..." you complain. You weren't actually all that cold, but your end goal is cuddles and bodies exchange heat when pressed together so by that logic, he should...

get up?

He wordlessly gets up from the bed and leaves the room, leaving you all confused and worried. You haven't said anything weird, have you? And even if you did, he wouldn't just straight up leave.

After about a minute, you can hear his footsteps again and he comes back into the room holding a warm blanket.

Ohhhh.

Well, that explains a lot. You have to hold back from smiling like a lovestruck idiot when he goes over to your side of the bed and gently covers you with the blanket. How sweet of him. It's these little casual acts of protection that make Jack Jack.

But alas, that's not what your goal is.

As he lays back down in bed, you complain again, hoping he'll get the hint this time. "I'm still cold."

He groans slightly. "There's no way I forgot to turn on the heating. Are you sick? Feeling weird?" He asks, glancing over his shoulder to look at you. He can make out your pleading face through the darkness. Guess you want more blankets.

He gets up again, coming back with yet another fluffy blanket to cover you with. He doesn't notice the pout on your face when he does so.

"Jack, I'm cold." you complain again when he lays back down. Okay, now he's seriously stumped.

"Seriously. Are you sick?" he turns over and places a hand on your forehead to check for a fever. You sigh. Guess being subtle isn't gonna work out. You have to be a little more direct.

You wrap your arms around him and make a little noise of content. This is what you're talking about.

"Ah, how warm. I'm okay now." you snuggled up into him, exaggerating your satisfaction just a slight bit. He hugs you back after a few seconds.

"That's what you wanted this entire time..." Seems he caught on to what you were doing.

He sounded a bit annoyed, and you don't blame him. He was probably really sleepy himself and you made him get up twice just to get blankets for you when you never needed them in the first place.

Actually, you didn't make him do anything. That was on him. You just had different methods of obtaining warmth in mind.

"Yeah. Sorry you had to get up." you patted his back, silently showing him you're still thankful for his efforts to make you comfortable. Very very thankful.

"It's fine. Just tell me you want cuddles directly next time." he huffed, relaxing in your arms.

But, you have a feeling that whenever you complain about feeling cold from now on, he'll know exactly what to do.

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 12

I will be honest: if Joris started seriously using this thing he would simply get scared like "WHAT IF I AM GOING TO DIE ON ACCIDENT AND NOT NOTICE DOING TOO MUCH". Also, his pride wouldn't allow him to overindulge.

What I'm getting at, is that his usage of this thing is literally the most in-character, funniest thing that he could have possibly done.

Yes. It's the demons again. I don't actually have anything to add. He looked pretty.

>touch eldritch artifact that feeds on life energy to make people powerful >use it to enhance your nonexistent magical huppermage abilities that were killed both by lack of education and the fact you have a weird fucking dragonized body to summon a tresstump magic wand from a different country >stop using eldritch artifact in any way Literally nobody does it like him. I can just hear him praying that nobody notices or thinks he's weird. But I do. I do.

...If he didn't have The Stump on his mind, he probably wouldn't have stepped anywhere close to this thing.

I thought about how many times Joris has probably had to read out war speeches, to be able to pull something this good sounding out with no preparation, and got a bit sick in the head.

There is nobody better to read out a speech like this, I think. I don't have any thoughts because I am now clinically insane.

At this point, they have discussed the plan for infiltrating the Necro world.

And I keep thinking about the fact that, Just like everyone in this place, Joris has a family to return to and protect (<- taking poison damage actively) and that Joris, like everyone else, is distinctly aware that if they die — not only will their loved ones be sad, they'll also be dead as well.

I really like this little moment of "I really hope you know what you're doing (I don't know what we're doing, and I'm scared)" and the way his voice sounds worried...

I can read complex emotional motivations into ANY Joris dialogue. Just watch me. The worms inside my brain guide me.

The little nod as their plan commences...

If Joris + Sword = Atchan behaviour, then Joris + his stupid log = Kerubim behaviour... From his full-front and full-back pirouettes, to the way he holds positions himself.

As I've said, while it might not be Ankama's intention even now, Joris's fighting style has always resembled Kerubim and Atcham a lot. Which would fit, considering they were probably the ones to actually teach him to fight. (However, by now, I'd be sad if it wasn't their intention...)

Though in the original movie scripts, I'm pretty sure it was Kerubim was the one who actually gave him the log and taught him to use it... So, maybe my jokes about Joris's style in the first seasons are actually pretty-on point and Joris's fighting style has always been based off his?

Whatever the fuck is going on with Joris and Kerubim's bond is at this point, like, written in the fabric of the universe. It's a big comfort to know that the one and only reason I began liking Joris as a character (that reason being his relationship with Kerubim) has always existed in some way

...Ankama please make Kerubim teaching Joris to use the log as a weapon canon already! For years, even before researching movie history, my headcanon has been "Kerubim asked Joris what weapon he'd like to learn to use first — expecting the answer to be something like "a staff" or "a wand" due to Joris's lineage... and Joris responded with "yours :) blunt damage to the bones yippie" which was unexpected but pleasant."

I'm fucking crazy you know. Yugo took Joris's hit... The way Joris softly says "Yugo! :(". The way he immediately rushes at Toross... Friendship is so real and poignant.

Joris "I can't show people they're getting under my skin or that I'm uncomfortable bc that's a sign of weakness" Jurgen saying this is just. you know that he's just fucked. that he's stressed out. and maybe scared of dying. if he was feeling normal, he would not fucking say this.

He probably means this in a "you're not even the 1238423th person that I outlived and defeated to try and get at me like this" but it comes across as "I'm so tired of it".

He's always been disrespected. No matter how hard he tries or how hard he works, everyone just treats him like a child, calls him a little guy at best, a midget at worst — even if he is a politican, even if he is 600 years old. Every person that doesn't know him tutoyers him. Even his family sometimes treats him like a child — albeit for different reasons.

He has 20 mental illnesses, and half of them would be solved by indiscriminately shooting anyone who calls him "petit" or "nabot" or "garçon" with a gun.

[walks into the sea]

On the first watch-through, I genuinely cheered and clapped. Ya!!

Kill him Joris. Kill him and be reborn as a lotus flower.

:(

[namu-the-orca]

Do you have any advice on how to begin drawing a cetacean? When I'm drawing terrestrial animals, I can break them down into simpler shapes pretty easily, but cetaceans are just Big Tubes and I'm completely stumped on how to start

(Disclaimer that my work is rather stylised, so I'm not looking for advice on photorealism! Just any advice you have in general. I admire your ability to understand and render these sausage-bodied beasts)

Hi! That's an interesting question. I have to admit I had to draw a couple of dolphins first to see how I actually deal with them when free-handing lol. So much of my work as of late is scientific illustration, where in many cases I can build upon my own older illustrations. The new pieces are always 100% new, but correcting a base - however poor - is easier than starting from scratch.

Before I go any further let me stress the eternal importance of references. I can draw a dolphin fine from memory but for it to be actually accurate I need references. I always use them. Especially when it comes to weird poses or angles, but even for illustrations I will reference 25-50 photographs. Use them, study them, find them. They are a resource not a cheat.

Also, years ago I actually started work on a whole series of dolphin drawing tutorials. Or rather, collections of notes and tips for different topics (anatomy, differences between males and females, colouration, variation). Looking at the files now I see I had actually written and drawn a frightening amount already. Perhaps I should try to finish them? Is that something people would be interested in? Anyway, it starts off with a word of encouragement, which I do want to share here:

Actual advice is below the cut:

ONTO METHODS - illustrations

I found that for me, my method depends on whether I'm making an illustration or a full scene painting. For illustrations - which are in flat side view - I actually embrace the sausage. I drew a dolphin for you and saved the steps of how I go about it.

And this is the first. I start with a sort of flat-bottomed airfoil shape, and then add fins and a beak in approximate locations.

Next is refining the appendages and giving a face. Shape and placement of appendages as well as eye and mouth line is all experience and/or reference work.

Then comes fixing what I messed up lol. I always make the head too big first try (would have been good for a baby dolphin though!). Using cutting/transforming/moving selections around I correct proportions to what feels correct to me (again, that part comes from having seen and drawn a lot of dolphins).

Add some markings and hooray we have a spinner dolphin! This is the part where I would seriously start consulting references to check all the details and proportions are in order. If you don't need (photo)realism you can skip that step and use refs further back in the process just to get the shape/idea/colour of the species you're trying to paint right.

MORE METHODS - for different poses

When it comes to dynamic poses, my workflow is completely different. I just start from the nose and build my dolphin from there. Because as said above, they do have anatomy. And I think the way the beak flows into the cheek, the eye bumps connect, then the curve of the throat, the attachment of the pectoral fin, the way the belly curved up towards the genital region, the slight bulge behind that, then the muscles of the peduncle which flow into the flukes - I think the relations between those separate parts are enough for me?

These are the little dolphins (and a porpoise) I sketched from memory. In all cases I started from the tip of the nose and built from there, with minimal or no adjustments/erasing along the way. It was very much outline work. Details on eyes, mouth, etc, would come later. The killer whale is a bit different and got way more detailed than the rest. With such a front view angle I do use some spherical shapes to break it down for the body and face.

Otherwise I've never really liked or used the method of breaking an animal down into shapes, it never felt logical or intuitive to me. My "method" (if you can call it that lol) just comes from having drawn a lot of dolphins. I don't know if it is necessarily helpful when you want to get a grasp of them when starting out. Regardless I do hope this answered your question somewhat and you could get something useful out of it!

Also, I realise now I mostly talked about "standard "dolphins - for whales/short-beaked smaller cetaceans/etc my process is mostly the same, except their heads just have different shapes.

[snozzlefrog]

Working on the assumption most people aren't reading kid's puzzle books (although it is a pretty fun, more relaxed time if you fancy it!), I've compiled a list of main series related observations. Please only read if you don't mind spoilers - and the kids aren't mentioned much since they are Jr originals.

The book seems to take place between books 1 and 2 (plausibly could be during book 1, but unlikely)

Many of the events of book 2 and 3 were in motion beforehand, especially with Tekco

Rose, Raspberry and Indigo all have kids - Indigo's specifically is Olivia, one of the main detectives

This means Logico helped murder his junior employee's dad during book 3 (ouch)

Applegreen, Lapis, Saffron and Ruby work in the same school, alongside Raspberry Jr

Emerald and Earl Grey are neighbours

Logico seems to be a bit famous now, at least enough for strangers to recognise him and to be signing stuff

The Detective club is really well funded, and Logico appears to be in a high-up role, if not the president

Irratino is a "pretty swell" Uncle (likely a second cousin rather than secret sibling)

Irratino is consequently pretty good with kids

Logico is TERRIBLE with kids

Irratino has multiple classic secret levers and switches installed for secret rooms and passages in the II (something we'd all probably do with comical amounts of money to be fair)

Irratino has great memory, and has the entire Institute memorised (which may also be how he can navigate the impossible maze with little trouble)

While it's no surprise, Irratino is confirmed as a habitual wonderer and prone to boredom (AuDHD king)

Irratino is similar to Logico in that he likes being included as a suspect when relevant

Logico either does a decent amount of undercover work, or has a LOT of side jobs

Logico earns what I believe is his first colour association - marzipan! (Suitably beige in my opinion)

At least two of the four detectives don't recognise Logico with a very mild change in appearance (mustache and hat) but clearly know who he is - either face blindness is super common in Murdle, or Logico is gathering an army of specifically autistic children

Logico has a houseboat (unclear if it's a full-time home or for the case - I like to imagine it is indeed his)

Logico is good with computers - at least good enough to stump a tech prodigy

Logico is kinda bad at tone/jokes

The DC and II seem to be at least a little linked together now - Logico tries to recruit two of the kids at the II, and Irratino helps with a DC training exercise as a "favour"

The II has at least one other branch, on the Violet Isles

A funny possible plot hole - Logico knew at least part of SPY was corrupt before the events of book 3 (between that and SoM, I'm starting to think Logico got hit a bit too hard during chessboxing - that or I'm checking timelines in a children's book)

Logico not only successfully pulls off the patented Tino-death-trick, but Irratino (presumably) fails to pull off the same trick

Logico is, and I cannot overstate this, the dopiest, most awkward motherfucker on the planet. Seriously, it's so funny seeing him without his internal dialogue colouring all his actions. It's like if Columbo was actually Like That. He thinks he's super cool and awesome and he's actually Laios from dunmeshi (AuDHD king). He's smart in the logic department but the rest of his brain is empty.

NO BUT SERIOUSLY. He earnestly does the Perry the Platypus disguise TWICE. He wears his hat under a second hat in case he needs to do a dramatic reveal. He lets children go to a wartorn country and solve several murders with no plan while believing that this is a totally planned excursion. HE HIRES A CAT. HE LETS A SMALL CHILD BELIEVE HE IS GONNA BE A DETECTIVE BEFORE GOING "oh no sorry that's for the cat, welcome to the force Mr McPaws" WITH GENUINE SERIOUS INTENTIONS.

If I'm honest, I think the cat might be the smartest detective there (including the adults)

[a-little-buggy]

"Amore mio, we cannot keep doing this." Ezio paced across the wooden floor, running his hand through his hair. It was entirely dark out, and the room was lit by a single candle on the table. "You were gone two full days! I practically turned this city upside-down looking for you!"

"How was I supposed to know I was still seeing things!? I genuinely thought it would wear off before now!" Desmond was sitting in a common room chair; the dark circles under his eyes were accentuated by his washed out complexion. He had just come from a bath, otherwise he would still be coated in sweat and hay. "I thought after a few weeks everything would just go back to normal! Well. . ." Desmond gestured around at the Renaissance assassin's guild hall. "Normal being relative, and all."

Ezio pulled a chair over by Desmond and sat down, picking at the stray straws of hay still glued to Desmond's skin. "I know that you are just trying to keep active, but please. If I get another report of you passing out in an alley, or landing in the river, I swear to Christo I will go gray." He stopped and cupped his hands around Desmond's face. "Don't do this to me, Desmond. I'm too young for gray hair."

"Oh don't worry, it'll be just as popular with the chicks as ever." Desmond gave a *swish* of his imaginary long locks, but the motion made his head spin. He braced his arms against the table. "Though I personally have less interest in the grandpa-type."

"Molto bene, that means you should have a personal investment in not causing me any more stress!"

"You think it's stressful for you? You're not the one running an imaginary Boston Marathon every other weekday!" Desmond scoffed, and laid his head down on the table in such a way as to still be able to give Ezio the stink eye.

"You know that isn't how I meant it. I just wish I could convince you to stay safe." Ezio rocked his chair back, and set his heels on the corner of the table. "At the very least, until we have some kind of answer as to when these episodes occur, or why."

Desmond gave a deep, shuddering sigh. "What if we never get any such answer? What little I know about bleeds is that I originally got them from using the Animus. Except now, I've somehow traveled back through time, so who even knows what kind of effects that could cause."

Ezio pressed a finger to his forehead. "Wait a moment. What is the Animus?"

"Seriously? It's the device that showed me your memories. We talked about this a few days ago."

Ezio removed his feet from the table and sat upright, eyeing Desmond suspiciously. "And when was this again, exactly?"

"Why? I. . . I guess it was four days ago, now, so Thursday? I remember it was raining."

Ezio bit his lip and grimaced, then giving a deep exhale placed a gentle hand on Desmond's leg. "I had a contract in Forlì that day."

"No, no. You're kidding." Desmond pushed off of the table and sank down into the wooden chair, as if it could absorb the impact of this new revelation for him. Ezio couldn't have imagined Desmond getting any paler, but he had. "No. No no no no no Ezio I -"

"Hey, it's alright, you're alright, I just need you to breathe." Desmond was badly shaken by this point, and his legs had given out, leaving him sinking to the floor. Ezio grabbed hold of his shoulders, trying to ease his downward descent.

Desmond's voice cracked. "No, no, it's not alright!" He grabbed Ezio back, desperate for some kind of tether. "How can you stand there and tell me it's alright, just after telling me that you may not even be here!?!?"

"I am here, though. I'm here." Ezio wrapped his arms tightly around Desmond, holding him as close as he possibly could. What else could he do? "Just try to breathe."

And so the two sat there, as the candle burned down to a stump. Slowly, Desmond's shaking turned to shuddered breathing, which turned to deep breaths.

Ezio rubbed Desmond's shoulders. "It may not be much longer until daybreak. Do you think you are ready to try for some sleep?"

Desmond slumped forward, burying his face in Ezio's chest. "Honestly? I think I'm too exhausted to make it to bed. Here seems fine."

Ezio chuckled. "For you, perhaps, but I am a creature of comfort." With one of his arms still wrapped around Desmond's back, he slid the other one under Desmond's knees and stood up, carrying him off towards the bunks.

Desmond wrapped his arms around Ezio's neck. "My hero," he sleepily crooned.

"Don't sing my praises just yet, amò." Ezio shifted Desmond's weight, fumbling to turn the doorknob. "I may expect you to return the favor one day."

"What?!" Desmond gasped, playing up the dramatics. " 's not fair, you're much bigger than I am!"

"Is that meant as a compliment or an insult?"

"I dunno yet." Desmond yawned. "I'll decide later, when I need one or the other."

Soon enough, they both had clambered into bed, and were able to get some much needed sleep.

-----

Desmond spent the next few days occupying himself in the base. Besides helping sort through the dispatching of contracts, he got caught them caught up on some long overdue weapons orders and offered advice to whatever young assasin might come knocking. This was his favorite task. It was a reminder of a simpler time, of when he could stand behind a bar and just chat with people about whatever was ailing them. Except this was a little more murder-y. But having been a bartender in New York, it was not so much more murder-y as one might think.

But all the same, he was beginning to feel cooped up. And so he went to seek audience with the Mentorè, about perhaps being allowed on a group mission of some form.

There were two novices already in Ezio's office, a boy and a girl. They were likely discussing the details of an upcoming contract. Having already opened the door, Desmond knocked on the doorframe. Ezio waved him in.

"What can I do for you, Desmond?" Ezio propped his elbows up on the desk and clasped his hands, resting his chin on top of them.

"Oh, it can wait. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Desmond glanced over at the novices, who in fairness, seemed unperturbed.

"So can this. Please, continue." Ezio leaned back in the chair, and the two young assassins stepped to the side.

Desmond cleared his throat. "With your permission, Mentorè," On this word he did a slight bow. Ezio rolled his eyes. "I would wish to be sent on a mission. As part of a group, of course," He hastened to add. "It's just. . . I don't do well feeling confined. And I'm about ready to go stir-crazy in here."

One of the novices smirked. "Is that different from the regular crazy somehow?" He asked. Desmond gave a dry, mocking laugh in response, but then turned back to Ezio and. . . Oh shit.

Desmond always knew that Ezio Auditore da Firenze was a dangerous man. He knew of all his great conquests, and had seen the fear in the eyes of his enemies. And yet somehow, to see the master assassin here and brimming with fury, it felt like the first time he really understood how terrifying such a man could be.

The other novice slapped the first upside the head, and then grabbed him by the wrist. "Thank you for the advice, Mentorè. We will send word as soon as we complete our task," She said, dragging him out the door, which closed firmly behind them.

Ezio took a deep breath, and settled back into his seat.

Desmond shuffled his feet. "Hey, so umm, you wouldn't have actually murdered that kid, right?"

"Fortunately, we will not have to find out." Ezio shot what he assumed was a comforting smile up at Desmond (it wasn't) and then rifled through some papers on his desk. "I actually have a mission that should suit you just fine. It should be straightforward, a matter of some scouting and interrogating a handful of people. There will be two others with you, and you will cover a fair bit of ground. Benè?" Ezio handed over a map with a few directions and way points marked on it.

Desmond nodded. "Yeah, benè. Thank you, Ezio."

"You're welcome. You leave in an hour. And Desmond," He continued, once Desmond had turned to leave. "I know you are highly skilled, but do still be careful."

"I will." Desmond walked back over to Ezio, then kissed him on the cheek and winked. "I promise."

Ezio kicked his boots up on the desk. "Oh, you are such a flirt."

"Well, I come by it honestly." And with that, Desmond left to make preparations.

-----

Desmond was sitting atop a window dormer, watching the surrounding area as another assassin prepared to 'talk to' a gang member in the alleyway below. A third assassin was perched on another neighboring rooftop, similarly spying for any potential complications. This was the method they had all decided on, and it had been working quite well. One person would go to meet the target, and the other two would remain above: out of sight so as to not cause any alarm, but close enough to drop into the fray should anything go awry. This was the last one on their list, and then they could all go back and herald their mission as a success.

He scanned the skyline. Besides the other assassin (whose name he had learned was Achille), there was no one visible up here. He peered down into the street. Piera (visible in blue) had just cornered in on the gang member (visible in gold). One or two of their targets had been willing to part with their information before it came to blows, but such instances were few and far between. Piera gave a quick display of her hidden blade, just to make her intentions and alliances clear.

As was typical, the conversation started with an exchange of thinly-veiled threats. "Next will come the unveiled threats, and then the diet violence," Desmond mused to himself.

The target started shouting. Desmond thought he heard another voice. He scanned the rooftops again, and this time saw a pair of guards off in the distance behind him. He looked back at Achille, who did not seem to react. "This again," Desmond muttered under his breath. He shifted to the right, and the guards were gone from his line of sight. "Please let that fix it." He turned back to watching the alley.

"You belong down in the street with the rest of the filth!" The voice was still distant, but it was definitely louder this time.

Desmond sighed. He turned to look behind himself, and saw the two guards from before making their way over, and a third guard climbing up behind them. "Just ignore them, and they'll go away," He said to himself. He turned back to the alleyway.

"Get down off this roof, or I will throw you off myself!"

Desmond scoffed. "I'd like to see you try. I think I'm finished throwing myself off of rooftops because of figments of my twisted imagination."

He heard another shout. This one wasn't from the target, or the illusory guard, but from Achille. "Desmond, look out!"

Desmond spun around, but not quickly enough, because a boot impacted him squarely in the chest, and he fell from the roof.

He desperately reached out, trying to grab hold of something to hang from. His right hand caught the wooden paneling of the window he was sitting above, but the wooden beam was brittle and snapped off, splintering under his fingernails. He yelled, and was unable to grab hold anywhere else.

Desmond's ankle rolled as he hit the ground, and he fell prone. The guard peered from the rooftop above, and apparently for the first time put together the implications of there being three hooded figures together. "Assassinos! Get them!" Well, so much for subtlety.

Piera ran over to help Desmond to his feet, and the gang member bolted. Desmond shook his head, and pulled himself up. "Don't worry about me, I can handle a few guards. Don't let the target get away!" He turned to face the building he had fallen from. The guards were already descending. He shifted his weight, and winced. Running's not an option. He readied his blade.

Desmond lunged at the first guard to get his boots on the ground. He hadn't yet pulled his sword, so Desmond easily grabbed hold of him, sliding the hidden blade between his ribs. Unfortunately, the next two landed with their swords already drawn, and Desmond could hear more footsteps fast approaching. "Shit, how many of you are there?"

He heard a shriek from above, and looked up just in time to dodge a guard falling from the rooftop, an arrow lodged in his chest. He landed with a dull, wet thud. Desmond spared a glance up towards Achille, who was already nocking another arrow. "Oh, this should be a peace of cake, then."

Desmond crossed blades with the two guards closest to him, parrying and deflecting their attacks. One of them leaped forward with an arcing swing of their sword. Desmond dodged under and to the side of the swing, then came around behind the off-balance guard, slitting his throat.

Another shriek, another thud. Desmond easily dispatched his next opponent, sweeping him off his feet and then skewering him where he fell. But the next guards approached together, and Desmond had to shift his focus to defense again.

Shriek, thud. One of the guards tried to bring his sword down on Desmond's head, who used both blades to intersect it. In the sword's reflection, Desmond saw another guard coming from behind him. "I've got you now, assassino!" Desmond shoved his current attacker off and spun around, swinging his blade in a wide arc. But as soon as his blade hit the guard's chest, he disappeared into mid-air.

Desmond growled. "Are yOU KIDDING ME!?!?!"

Shriek, thud.

A low chuckle from one of the guardsmen. "Jumping at shadows, boy? Ready for someone to put you out of your misery?" Desmond turned on his heel and lunged for the unlucky dastard's face, plunging both of the hidden blades deep into his eyesockets.

What few guards remained turned tail and ran.

Shriek, thud. Desmond turned once again to Achille, who was now clambering down the building, bow in hand. "They were already running, y'know."

Achille landed on the street, and shrugged. "They picked the fight. The least they could do is have the decency to see it through."

Desmond chuckled, then rubbed his shoulder. "Well, whether Piera caught the target or not, by now, she'll be heading back to base. We should be, too." He looked down at his swelling ankle. "No crazy parkour shit though."

-----

Ezio was pacing back and forth across the wooden floor, combing his hand through his hair. Piera had gotten back with her report on the mission two hours ago. He had already sent ten otherwise idle assassins out searching for Desmond, and he was deliberating about sending more.

"He has returned!" Came a voice from the door.

Ezio raced to the door. His stomach lurched when he saw Desmond, covered in blood and limping, except. . . He was also smiling? There he was, covered head-to-toe in blood, and grinning ear-to-ear!

"Desmond? Are you. . ." He looked Desmond up and down. Bloody. Beaming. "Did you hit your head?"

"Ezio!" Desmond threw his arms up wide, flinging blood on the assassins unfortunate enough to be standing near him. "No, I'm just fine! Well, I wrecked my ankle, but not nearly so much as I wrecked all of the guards!"

Ezio laughed. "So, you determined that what you needed was catharsis, and that any guard would suffice?"

"Well no, actually," Desmond responded a bit sheepishly. "I let them get the drop on me, believing they weren't real."

Ezio very abruptly stopped laughing. "You WHAT -"

"Can we discuss it later? I know it's a problem, but I'm currently riding a high, and I would like to enjoy it."

Ezio started to object, but instead wrapped an arm over Desmond's shoulders. "Later then." He lifted his arm, and stared in horror at the gloopy mess now dripping from it. "Dio mio, someone needs to give you a bath."

Desmond smirked. "Are you volunteering?"

-----

I don't ever think of myself as a creative person, so I am ABSOLUTELY blaming @sulfies that I have done this again, lol. I hope you enjoyed though! Much less bleed effect whump this time around, and much less re-reading to check that it makes sense, lol. Hyperfixation + insomnia = I wrote another story, but now it's a quarter to six in the morning and I may low-key hate myself tomorrow (today?). Thanks for reading!

[caramelpenguin]

Wilmon

Could you help me do my buttons

Simon smiles sheepishly after Wille opens his bedroom door. His fingers are icicles, and he'd already struggled with the button on his jeans. It was another twelve minutes of hopelessly trying to do his shirt buttons when he decided that he was seriously running out of time, that Wille- his roomate of a month and a bit- could do this job in a few seconds. And it took another six minutes for Simon to muster the courage to knock on his decorated door. "Could you help me do my buttons? If that's okay?"

Wille blinks, stumped, before gesturing for him to enter his room (which really isn't necessary for buttons), but Simon would be an absolute fool to say no.

"Of course," he says, closing the door. When he turns around, suddenly way closer than he was before, Simon gulps, realising that this maybe wasn't one of his best ideas. Wille's long fingers linger on his shirt, delicately tracing the material as he starts at the bottom and works his way to the top, his face the perfect picture of composed and focused . His lips are light pink and slightly pouting in concentration, and Simon's briefly hypnotised by the freckles on his skin. Wille's warm and smells like chocolate and he doesn't know what's stopping him from leaning forwards, but he's got enough common sense to not.

"Thanks," he murmurs instead. The black shirt fits him snugly, highlighting his body in the best way, and he can feel the heat of Wille's eyes gazing over his form. "Sorry, my fingers are so cold and it was taking me forever."

A shrug. A small smile. A hand reaching out to gently clasp Simon's fingers. "I'm always happy to help, but I'm much more skilled at taking buttons off. Just so you know."

[youcouldmakealife]

Hello! Another writing question! Which word processor do you use? I've been relying on Google Docs, but want to upgrade. TYIA!

I've been using Scrivener for many, many years now. Like a shocking number of years, given I am the kind of person who picks up every new program or app with 'this will surely fix me' energy, only to discard them when they did not, in fact, fix me (or they stopped providing The Dopamine, or I started tracking too many things and things got too convoluted, or--)

Before I was using Scrivener, I was using Word (or an open source alternative, depending), and I use Google Docs for editing, but Scrivener, and its ability for me to have a work space that includes all my projects (they're all in one project called 'kitchen sink', unless it's a novel I'm prepping for publication, in which case it gets its own project). It's basically the ideal program for someone who flits from piece to piece, and it's insanely customizable, which is probably the reason I've never left for more novel pastures: if I change the way I want to work, I can alter it to suit.

If you're a one project at a time person, I still pretty heartily recommend it, because it has spots for ancillary bits that you need to have access to but don't necessarily fit in the main file (character profiles, a scene you cut but really like a few lines from, research, etc)

It can do a ton for you if you put the time into learning it (I not only write in it, but also format my books for publication within it), but you don't need to use all its bells and whistles.

Most exciting of all: you buy it once. Like. Seriously. Not even once per laptop or whatever, though I'd still be hyped about that.

They also have a really generous trial where you can use it for 30 days (not calendar, but days of use -- if you used it once a week, say, that'd be 30 weeks).

I'm genuinely really happy to stump for them because I use it like...every single day and every time I've had trouble with it, it's because of something I did or didn't do (say, forgot to set up auto backup) rather than a problem with the program. They've also been actively refining it and working on it the entire time I've had it. In a world that's gone all in on apps over programs, subscription based models over ownership, and general enshittification, it's a product that just...works. I love it. Could not more highly recommend at least giving the trial a shot. (it's available for Mac, PC, and IOS)

[imagionationstation]

Is there more to Mikey's and Donnie's meeting of the SAINW story?

See, the silly part of me just wanted to type, “yes” and then post.

But I get the feeling that actually this means, “Can we see more of the moment when Mikey and Donnie meet?”

And to that I say-!

Yeah, sure, it’s just sitting in my drafts anyway.

Now I just gotta figure out where the technical ‘meeting’ begins and ends before they transition to other things…. Mmmm… Okay!

Disclaimer: This is an old first draft, unedited.

Donnie stood up just as he caught a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. He instinctively ducked behind the garbage can and peered around it to pinpoint if this was a figment of his imagination or a new danger. 

The cloaking night was definitely not helping with his investigation, but he could quickly tell that whatever it was, it definitely wasn't the previous.

His hand slipped into his belt for smoke bombs as the shadow slipped about, it's movement slightly erratic and searching, and he crouched down when it near his position. He was just about to chuck the smoke bombs and bolt when the shadow spoke, it's voice barely above a whisper, yet somehow undeniably familiar. 

"-promise, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm the good guy. Seriously, I'm like, a great guy. Everyone says so. I just wanna take you somewhere safe. Swear it on a turtle's honor. I'm-"

"Mikey?"

Donnie jumped to his feet and moved out from behind the dumpster, so much hope stirring that it almost hurt. The shadow completely froze and the more Donnie stared, the more he could make out the broad shell and shape of a mutant turtle. His belt was different and now bore a vertical strap like his own, a mask framing wide baby-blue eyes that cut through the darkness, one visible arm clutching a nunchuck while the other remained hidden in shadow. 

"Mikey!" Overjoyed to find one of his siblings way sooner than he could have possibly hoped, he began to move forward, only to pause when Mikey quickly put three more steps between them, moving from the shadows and into full view. 

Donnie went entirely rigid when he realized that his left arm hadn't simply been cloaked in shadows, but was missing entirely, a healed over stump all that was left. His mind racing to comprehend this, he barely picked up on the way Mikey's posture seemed anxious and defensive, eyes that normally sparkled with life hardened warily. 

"So... You're not dead."

"Well, I- no..." 

Mikey seemed to deflate a bit at this and then looked him over again, giving Donnie the impression he was expecting him to say or do something. 

Donnie could only blink as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. "What- what happened to- you? And- And New York?"

Mikey raised an eye ridge, his expression a spookily close reflection of Leo's you-can't-be-serious face. "Alien invasion, dude. Duh. You been hiding under a rock for all these years?"

His tone was unnaturally cold and Donnie had to do a double take on the last accusation. "All these...? I don't... Why would I have been...?"

Mikey stared at him for a moment as though unsure what to make of him and then shook his head dismissively. "Whatever. See ya, dude."

Wha- see ya!?

Donnie's heart launched to his throat as Mikey turned and then he bolted forward, skidding in his path almost frantically. He needed a trustworthy face to help him out. He had way to many unanswered questions and they were only piling up by the second. 

Besides, why would he just up and abandon him there?!

Mikey raised his arm as if to defend himself, the movement drawing Donnie's attention to the purple clothe tied around his wrist. His eyes strayed on it before he turned back to his younger brother, who he suddenly realized was taller than he remembered. And broader.

A terrifying realization began trying to creep in and his voice trembled despite his best efforts to still it. "Mikey, wait! Please! I need your help! I don't know what's going on! I just- I woke up in the lab and- and the lair was obliterated and- and- and now the Kraang have taken over!? I mean, just yesterday the very idea of a full invasion was purely hypothetical! Please Mikey, I don't understand any of this and I need-"

"Woah, woah, dude, hold up." Donnie clamped his mouth shut as every nerve in his body went wild, his younger brother studying him as though unsure what to make of his existence. "So, what, is this, like- amnesia?"

Donnie gave a weak shrug, not quite trusting himself to open his mouth, and Mikey's expression seemed to change. A new curiosity wiped away the hardened tint that looked so out of place on his little brother's face. "Huh. Okay. What do you remember then?"

"Wa- uh, we had an argument, I got mad, went into my lab and..." His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed the strap of his bag, moving it in front of him and rummaging through it. "A Kraang device that I took went off and I- have- it- sooomewhe-here it is!"

He pulled out the smooth circle and presented it for Mikey's examination. His younger brother looked between it and him with interest, something bright and familiar appearing in his gaze. His voice lost the accusing tint. "How's it work?" 

"I don't know. I was examining it when it zapped me and everything went nuts." He gingerly ran his fingers along the side as he'd done before and the rods suddenly began to spark, both brothers gasping as a electric pink began to grow in the hole before something fizzled and it vanished. 

"Is that what happened last time?" All traces of angry Mikey was gone, and replaced with the giddy little brother who always came to his lab in the hopes of being wowed by a new invention. 

This helped Donnie's nerves to settled and he brought it closer to his face, studying the middle. "Not exactly... There was more of a painful explosion. There must have been some kind of power surge when I hit the hidden switch, perhaps whatever this is wasn't a completed project, and now it's fried. Unfortunate, really, I would have liked to know what it did."

He glanced over to Mikey and realized he was staring at him both intently and like he'd lost his mind. He lowered the device awkwardly, wondering if he was missing something. "What?" 

"How old are you?"

Distractedly, Donnie turned his attention back to the device, turning it over in his palm to study the side, wondering if he need to explain the logistics of being quadruplets again. "Sixteen, just like you." 

"Dude. I'm twenty."

Donnie's entire body stiffened and he turned to him in shock. "Excuse me?"

"Gonna be twenty-one in four months. Pretty much an ah-dult." Mikey lifted his finger wisely before pointing at the device. "And you should be too, cause you've been missing for almost five years, bro. But if you don't remember it and you certainly don't look like you've grown up..."

"Bu- n-no, I-"

"That means," Mikey gushed as Donnie's mind fought against acknowledging anything or putting pieces together. "you either drank from the fountain of youth and it gave you amnesia, or that, my stammering bro, is a certified Kraang time travel device!" 

"Time travel isn't possible." Donnie argued anxiously, earning a disapproving scoff. "Oh, yeah? Then how else do you explain all this? Hmm? Hmmmm!? Time travel, brah! Time! Travel!"

Donnie's mouth opened and shut without retort as things began making more sense without him wanting them to. Why he woke up alone in a demolished lab. Why the lair was a wreck. How the Kraang succeeded invading New York. Why Mikey seemed so different-

Wait. What happened to everyone else!?

"Mikey!" His younger brother stopped what appeared to be excited muttering as he paced and spun towards him. "Mikey, where is the rest of our family? Our friends? Is everyone okay?" 

Mikey looked like he was about to respond when his eyes suddenly widened and he glanced up at the dark sky. "Sewer bunnies! Why didn't you tell me how late it is!? Aw man, I'm so going to be dead when he finds out!"

[erosastro]

Signs that aren't traditionally compatible but still somehow always drawn to each other

*This is based on mostly sun signs

*Remember though that compatability runs deeper than just your Sun signs. These are just patterns I've noticed.

｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡

🦋 Aries + Scorpio - I think it's because of Mars ruler? That they work so well. But Aries loves the attention, is fiery and passionate and honestly Scorpio is just the same. Scorpio loves to give Aries the attention they crave.

🦋 Taurus + Sagittarius - Honestly this one stumps me a bit. But it could be a case of opposites attract? They're so different with taurus being the epitome of stable and grounded and Sagittarius the opposite. Maybe they need the other to balance each other out.

🦋 Aquarius + Pisces - Yall idk about this one. Could be like above, opposites attract. Aquarius might be drawn to pisces dreamy nature and Pisces might to be drawn to Aquarius intellect.

🦋Capricorn + Gemini - both are hardworkers but I think gemini teaches capricorn to relax a bit and not take things so seriously, which provides a good balance bc capricorn can teach gemini how to stay grounded and not be in their heads so much.

🦋 Scorpio + Sagittarius - I've noticed with a lot of these couples that they have a similar sense of humor. Sagittarius helps Scorpio come out of their shell and Scorpio helps Sagittarius see deeper meanings to life.

🦋 Pisces + Sagittarius - These two are actually similar in so many ways in that they're both dreamy and creative. I'm not surprised since they're both mutable signs and mutable signs can work well. I think the problem could only come in when Pisces wants romance/to settle down and Sagittarius values freedom a bit more.

🦋 Libra + Taurus - Again like Scorpio and Aries, maybe because of having the same ruler (Venus), there's no surprise they get along and can work well together. Libra craves the balance and stability Taurus exudes. Taurus loves the sensuality and romance Libra can bring.

🦋 Aquarius + Scorpio - Aquarius loves to stimulate their mind and Scorpio is a puzzle they want to crack. That's honestly the way I see this couple. Plus they're both fixed signs so there's an undeniable sexual attraction there too.

🦋 Leo + Capricorn - Every couple I've seen here are like best friends. You wouldn't be able to tell they were dating at first. They just click. Possibly because Leo shows capricorn adventure and capricorn shows Leo that their deeper feelings matter.

🦋 Libra + Virgo - Virgo loves romance, as much as they may not seem like it at first and libra brings that to the table. They bring some balance to the mercurian energy that virgo has and Virgo helps libra see things outside their rose-coloured glasses.

🦋 Cancer + Leo - These two are romantic as hell. Both are very touchy in a couple and I think cancer can show Leo to be in touch with their emotions and empathy. Leo can show cancer not to take things so seriously and allow themselves to have fun

[writeforfandoms]

A Lonely Place - 3

Find my Soap masterlist

The last part of this fic, and my last entry for Soap It Up hosted by the amazing @glitterypirateduck

Let's see if you guys can find which prompt I used this chapter.

Discoveries are made, scarves are knit, and somehow things work out.

Warnings: Swearing, Feels, seriously more Feels, bit of anxiety, nameless characters, a familiar face shows up (if you read Gaz's zombie au fic).

Word count: 2.1k

Days passed easily with them - you helped out in the kitchen, learned how to chop firewood, and met several other members of the little community. 

It was very different from anything you'd experienced before. It really was a community - everybody knew everyone else. It was common to see at least one of the four protectors out and about. 

But you saw the most of Soap. Johnny, he offered, after a few weeks. He was funny, and kind of sweet, and very competent. 

He even showed you how to use the knife to protect yourself. 

It wasn't long until you were missing him when he was gone. Until you debated inviting yourself over to the house. 

But you always talked yourself out of it. 

The weather turned colder, making you glad for the heavy coat you'd picked up, and for the sweater you were finally almost done knitting. 

Somehow (you suspected the MacTavishes), word got out that you could knit. The first request came from a woman a little older than you with two children. 

“Could ye make scarves?” She asked, reaching out without looking to grab the younger of her two children. “Something warm.” 

You shrugged, absently scratching the back of your neck. “Yeah, should be able to,” you agreed, looking between the two. “I've got enough yarn.” 

She grinned at you. “How long?”

You shrugged. “How soon do you need them? I can have them ready in a week, if you're in a rush.” 

“Perfect. What do ye want in return?”

That stumped you, and you shrugged again. “Not sure, really.” 

She harrumphed but nodded. “Ah'll bring ye somethin’ good,” she promised before she strode away, little ones in tow, leaving you blinking after her. 

Well. Guess you'd better get to work on those scarves. 

You pulled out all your remaining yarn, frowning down at the spread on your bed. You already had the yarn set aside to finish your sweater, thankfully. Which left you with a few skeins. Not a huge selection, but you'd make it work.

At least it all felt like wool, rather than synthetics. 

“Runnin’ out?”

You jumped at the question, not having heard Mrs. MacTavish coming. “Oh, uh, yeah. I suppose so.” You shrugged. 

“Hmm.” She leaned a bit to one side to look around you and clucked disapprovingly. But she was bustling off before you could ask, muttering to herself too fast for you to parse what she was saying. 

Leaving you bewildered, blinking after her. 

Then you shrugged and picked out one of the remaining skeins. Fortunately it had already been wound into a ball, so you didn't have to worry about that. 

Without any pattern books or your usual online resources, it would be pretty plain, but it would be a warm scarf at least. 

It was only two days later that Johnny and Gaz stopped by the house. You'd finished your chores already and had settled comfortably on the couch to try and finish up the first scarf. The door opening caught your attention, and you looked over just as the two tromped inside. 

“There ye are!” Johnny hopped over the back of the couch to drop down near you (though not on top of your yarn, thankfully). “Doin’ alright?” 

“Same as two days ago,” you agreed with a little laugh, shaking your head. “Which is when you last saw me.” 

Johnny pouted, exaggerated and over the top. “Ah cannae even check on my favorite knitter?” 

“I'm the only knitter,” you pointed out dryly, though you were trying to hide your amusement. 

“Tha's beside the point, bonnie.” Johnny grinned at you, reaching over to tug playfully at the end of the scarf. “And what's this, then?” 

“A scarf for one of the kids,” you answered, swatting at his hand but not trying very hard to hit him. “One of the moms asked for her two, so I guess I'm taking commissions now.” 

“Brilliant idea.” He sat up straighter, eyes bright. “Be a big help, too.” 

You snorted. “For these two kids, sure. I'll have enough yarn after that to maybe make a few hats, but that's it.”

He blinked, just once, and then nodded. “Ah see,” he murmured, something calculating in his gaze. “Good thing she asked first then, aye?” 

“I suppose,” you said slowly, eyeing him. You weren't sure you liked that look. “What brought you over, by the way?” 

“Oh, that.” He reclined again, arms spread along the back of the couch. “We'll be goin’ on a supply run. Wanted ta see if there's anything ye need.” 

You shook your head. “No, I've got things, I'm fine.” 

“Ye sure? We find all kinds ‘a things,” he wheedled, leaning a little closer to you. 

You just shrugged, because you couldn't think of anything you needed, except yarn. And that was a long shot. Better to ask for nothing, so you wouldn't be disappointed. “I'm okay.” 

Johnny looked like he wanted to argue more with you, but the back door opened and the other three came in. So he simply sighed through his nose and stood, offering you a hand up. 

Dinner was lively with the two additional people. It helped that Gaz and Johnny played off each other beautifully, keeping the entire table entertained. 

After dinner, Johnny pulled you out front with him while Gaz was still chatting with his parents. 

“Gotta be somethin’ you want,” Johnny wheedled, still holding your hand from when he'd pulled you out the door. You didn't mind, heart fluttering at the gentle press of his thumb against the back of your hand. 

Your lips twisted and you looked down at your linked hands. “It doesn't matter what I want.” 

“Course it does.” Johnny leaned closer, tugging your hand gently to pull you in closer. “Anythin’ ye want, promise ah'll find it for ye.” 

Your lips parted at the sincerity in those blue eyes, mouth going dry at the promise. 

But you didn't have a chance to respond. Gaz stepped out the door and nodded to you. 

That was enough for you to smile and pull back, shielding yourself again. “Stay safe,” you said instead of giving him anything else. “Come back bite-free or I'll be very upset.” 

Far from being deterred, Johnny's head tipped, gaze laser-focused on you. “That what ye want?” He asked softly but no less intense. 

“Yes.” You met his gaze and didn't back down this time, briefly squeezing his hand. 

He nodded decisively, a brilliant smile breaking like sunlight across his face. “See ye in a few days,” he promised. He darted forward to press a kiss to your cheek, warm and fleeting, before he walked away. Gaz grinned at you, eyes warm, before he jogged after Johnny. 

You pressed a hand to your cheek and tried to deny the warmth blossoming in your chest. 

It didn't work.

You spent the next five days thinking about him in between your work. Chopping wood? You wondered where Johnny was, how far they'd traveled. Knitting? You hoped they were staying safe and avoiding the infected as much as possible. 

You couldn't deny that you wanted him to come back safely. You wanted to see him. 

Even if you couldn't yet admit to yourself why.

The fifth night, someone new came over for dinner. She introduced herself as Kyle's partner. (It took you an embarrassingly long time to realize she meant Gaz.) 

The best part was that she brought fresh bread and cookies with her. The cookies were the best you'd tasted, and you told her as much. 

You walked her outside, shivering briefly at the chill in the air. 

“They're fine, you know.” 

“Hmm?” You blinked at her, half-turning to her. 

“I worried the first few times they went out, too.” Her smile was soft and a little embarrassed. “I still worry, honestly. But they take care of each other.”  

You nodded slowly, though you eyed her curiously. “Why are you telling me this?” 

She rolled her eyes at you. “Oh, come on. We both know you're worrying about Johnny.”

“I'm not–! I mean, not that much.” You floundered for a moment, looking away even as your heart stuttered in your chest. 

She clucked her tongue. “Honestly, you're not really fooling anyone,” she chided gently. “You care for him, we can see that much. And he's a good man, he deserves someone to fuss over him.” 

You huffed. “He's sweet,” you muttered, still looking away. “And he's a good friend.” 

She laughed, stepping forward and patting your shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that,” she said with a cheeky grin and a wink. “Get back inside before you freeze. I'll see you soon.” 

“Stay warm,” you replied, stuffing your hands in your pockets and watching her take the first few steps away. Only when you saw her flashlight beam moving steadily away did you go back inside. 

You tossed and turned all night, unable to stop thinking about your conversation with her. Were you really so transparent about your feelings? Your… regard?

Just thinking that made you feel too much like a Victorian novelist. You snorted and rolled over to your other side. 

Clearly, you were not as subtle as you thought. You smothered your groan in your pillow. It was fine. It would be fine. 

It had to be fine. 

You delivered the two completed scarves by midday the next day, taking more fresh bread back with you, with the promise of some kind of sausage to come. 

Idly, you kicked a rock down the dirt road, debating what else you could do. You could make a few more hats - probably one each for the MacTavishes, to make sure they stayed warm enough. Beyond that? You'd have to wait and see. 

“Bonnie!” The cheerful call yanked you from your thoughts, and you blinked a few times as your gaze focused on Johnny. Hole and hale and safe, standing in the doorway. He positively beamed at you as he jogged the distance to you. 

“You're back.” You blinked at him once more, your brain still rebooting a little, even as your heart fluttered and swooped. 

“Aye, safe n’ sound, as promised.” He stopped in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. “Are ye busy?”

“Right now? No.”

“Good.” Johnny wasted no time in pulling you along with him, ignoring your little yelp. You gave in, laughing a little, and let him tug you back to the other house. He chattered the entire walk, telling you about where they'd been, some of the things they'd seen. It was comforting, having him near, holding your hand, talking your ear off. 

You had a brief glimpse of the others in the kitchen, mugs on the table, supplies scattered around in various stages of packing or unpacking. But Johnny didn't give you time to do more than wave with your free hand before he was tugging you up the stairs. 

“Johnny,” you half-protested, laughing a little. “What are you doing?”

“Ye'll see.” He let go of you only to put a hand in front of you. “Closer yer eyes.”

“What?” You blinked at him, startled. 

“Eyes closed.” He wiggled his fingers at your face height. 

With a huff, you gave in, closing your eyes. The door clicked as it opened, and for a moment you stood with no indication of what was going on. 

“Gonna guide ye forward,” Johnny murmured just before one big hand landed on your shoulder, the other taking your hand again. You moved cautiously, hand holding tight to his, uncertain but willing to trust him. But he guided you true - you didn't so much as bump into anything. 

“Okay,” he murmured, keeping hold of your hand. “Open yer eyes.” 

You opened your eyes and gasped. The entire bed was covered in yarn. Skeins, balls, balled remnants, in all colors and sizes. It was more yarn than you'd seen in ages. “This is… incredible.”

“Ah found more, but Price wouldnae let me fill the car with yarn.” Johnny shrugged when you looked at him, his cheeks pink, even as he continued talking. “But is close enough we could get the rest another time, aye?” 

You stared at the yarn for a moment longer, and then turned your gaze to Johnny. He'd brought all of this back. For you. Just for you. 

You tugged your hand free, but only so you could cup his cheeks, cutting off his nervous rambling. You kissed him. 

Johnny made a noise, something startled that you thought of as a squeak. And then he was kissing you back, eager hands cupping the back of your head and your back, pulling you in closer. 

When the two of you parted, neither of you went far, both of your lips shiny.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, fingers scratching through the longer hairs at the back of his head. “For all of this.” 

Johnny just smiled, bright and besotted and incandescently happy, and kissed you again.

[changingplumbob]

rules: put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for their favorite! <3

Tagged by @onestormeynight. Okay my itunes is a bit of a smorgasboard but let's see what happens... I'm going to skip ones without words though because I have a lot of scores/soundtracks...

I'm not saying I expect it to be a clean sweep but....

Tagging literally ANYONE because this is such a cute idea to me. Extra tags for @marcishaun, @simmerbeans, @matchalovertrait, @ruthplaysthesims, @abbysimsfun

... and @perolesims, @simscici, @belsasim, @victoriaplaysims

EDIT: Seriously I tag you, I've already thought of a dozen more people I really should have tagged, you know who you are (I certainly hope you know I adore you)

[lightofraye]

I was on a live with my friend who has an account on Instagram specifically for Spn and she revealed that she went to a con and Jensen didn’t have his wedding band on and his manager found him, gave the ring to him and demanded he wear it. Apparently he seemed upset that he had to and he looked visibly sad and was anxiously fiddling with it the rest of the day. He doesn’t even hide his misery in front of us. Why do people choose to turn a blind eye and think danneel is a great person?!

Hi there!

Y'know, I had gotten this message this morning, but could not answer until now because of so many reasons, one of which was to ask which con this was at! Plus, I had to ask if you wanted me to hide your identity or not. I imagine there will be some Danneel stans and potentially AAs that will not take kindly to discovering that Jensen is very, very unhappy. It shatters their delusion of the "perfect marriage" and all that.

I'm heaving a sigh, because this is going to just pissed them off some more.

As I (and so many others!) have said: Jensen isn't happy!

Anyway, after corresponding with the asker, I have been able to confirm where and when this happened!

Credit to the asker who asked their friend and got me the information.

It happened at Burcon, during the St. Patrick's weekend. If it's the Gersh agent that was with him during at least one of the European cons (JIB, I believe?), I'm stumped as to why they would even care if Jensen was without his ring. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time.

According to the asker, it happened again while Jensen was at JIB.

We know that his "branding and endorsement" agent from Gersh was with Jensen. It's puzzling as to why. Maybe something involved regarding Countdown, but once again: why?

As confirmed by the person I spoke to, the follower who has been in the creative and entertainment industry, Jensen's narrative has always been inconsistent. If Jensen retained Gersh to expand beyond "brand and endorsement" to help improve his "family man image", I have so many questions!

Namely: the ring means jackshit. No, seriously, it means jackshit. All it indicates is that he's married--not that he's faithful, loyal, or anything. It's the keeping of the vows that make the difference, not the freaking jewelry.

Secondly: if he's so damned miserable--and anyone with eyes could tell, even in photos with Danneel, not that he's been seen with her in an age--why go through it even longer? Why impose such misery? Just end the blasted marriage and find happiness elsewhere already.

Third: if it is to improve the "family man image", uhhh.... going about it the wrong way. Especially given we haven't seen Jensen with Danneel since that one outing in Dallas... and that was just with Danneel. Family man image makes me think of him and his kids, which need not include his wife.

Fourth: Why does the manager/agent have the freaking ring?!

Soooo many questions, not nearly enough answers. I appreciate the asker for this incredible and heartbreaking update.

Oh! Before I forget! The asker asked: Why do people choose to turn a blind eye and think danneel is a great person?!

Because despite what they accuse me of, those Jenneel/AAs fans are putting themselves in that delusion. They want the marriage to be perfect, to have Jensen beyond reproach, to believe that Danneel is sweet and kind when we know better (seriously, I have quite a bit of evidence and there are others!). To see Danneel otherwise shatters that delusion and they can't accept it.

I, on the other hand, see Jensen as a talented actor who in a situation he's been miserable in for some time, placed on a pedestal that he never wanted to be on in the first place. However, to survive that attention, he became the mask. I don't know if he'll be okay....

[kabukipookie]

Hey I’d like to request nfsw Yae Miko and M!reader, haven’t seen many fics like this so the premise can be whatever you like :) Ty

Fulfilling a Fantasy∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°｡⁠☆

★⌒ヽ(´ ❥ SUMMARY`)

Finding yourself at a creative stump, Cheif Editor Yae Miko was happy to help you explore the assigned genre ; Fantasy

ᝰ.ᐟ ⤵ cw + genre

Dom! Yae Miko x amab! reader

use of 'baby' & 'dear' , praise, begging(reader), fem dom (miko), cunnilingus, i did my best- please leave constructive criticism!

ᝰ.ᐟ ↪ wc 1.9 k !

@kabukipookie × TMBLR original work

a/n at the end ♡ (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

INTERACT AT YOUR DISCRETION ❤️‍🔥

Being a freelancer in Inazuma before the Vision Hunting Decree was abolished was a bit harsh. The state of affairs had a severe effect on your creative inspiration.

Despite this, you had to pay bills. You had a due date to get a draft for a new book to the executive editor. Miss Yae Miko.

The prompt was also so very unclear. Just what did she want? She's never been so vague. Maybe the market isn't doing good.

Once establishing yourself as a writer, god did it have its ups and downs. . . But, worries quickly dissipated after being scouted as an exclusive writer; Your works would be carried by Yae Publishing House.

Meeting her for the first time was a scene. How did she know how to get under everybody's skin? She knew exactly what buttons to press.

You received a letter from the Publishing House, and later a meeting was set to discuss terms.

You had to hike up to meet Miko, the shrine maidens were a bit more than confused however; She never had people visit above.

The meeting went about as well as it could, you didn't know it was unusual for her to specifically invite someone up to the shrine.

Work was stable, a dream you never thought would be fulfilled.

Yes, the current affairs were an obstacle, more so was the fact the Chief Editor was being so unresponsive.

There was hardly any tension between you two. Y'know, ignoring how you couldn't hold eye contact for anything longer than a glance. Or how the tips of your ears burned whenever her soft fingers glazed yours when passing manuscripts back and forth. A smooth melody played; soft instrumental. Her lips echoed the tune, humming.

It's like this world was made for her, Miko was too perfect. Her presence was perfect, and the scenery around her... Arguably created purely to extenuate her lovely features.

It did feel a little intense when you walked to the Grand Narukami shrine. The day was breezy, pretty pink cherry petals danced in the sky.

From monthly, to weekly walks to visit your boss, the scenery was always so lovely. You couldn't get too mad at the envoy, you'd be enthusiastic about living at such a beautiful peak of Inazuma.

Knuckles clacked against the pristine door, and you hear shuffling before a familiar voice said "Come in."

Sly as a fox, brimming with mischief it felt like. Recently, she has been unusually preoccupied. Stress, probably.

You didn't however, know the days she was taking off and ignoring your mail, she spent fucking herself on her fingers.

It's never easy to be an executive editor, let alone the responsibility of the grand priestess... Once you spoke to a shrine maiden, they led you to Yae Miko's residence.

You enter the building, tote in hand. you spot Yae Miko with her knees folded on top of a tatami mat.

"Oh, Y/n. What could I assist you with ~ ?" She makes a gesture to come sit across from her.

"Ah, I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Chief Editor." Timidly, you take a seat and open up your bag.

"Of course not darling. It's my responsibility to help the Inazumians of today."

Straightening out the papers, the ones with an outline as well as some ideas you had jotted down.

You stifle a small grunt of amusement.

"Hm? Something funny, dear?" Her head tilts cutely to the side

"Miss editor, I'm a coworker. I do find it a bit funny how seriously you speak to me, but otherwise.." You trail, she looks more relaxed. The atmosphere felt very tranquil.

"--Its just I'm not quite sure what you mean when you told me to write a "Fantasy" Novel. . . I don't mean to be rude, but you know I only have experience with realism."

A nervous look was etched into your features.

You see a smirk at the tips of her pink lips, as she outstretches her arm to begin looking through the papers.

"Oh dear, I guess I should've been more descriptive? I apologize, I've just been so... Busy. Yes that's it "

Her smooth voice infiltrates your ear, diverting your attention to the plain floor. The sound of papers ruffling continues.

"I can try! Do you think you could help me brainstorm? I'm unsure of how to start something like this. I won't take too much of your time, Miss."

She places the papers to the side, fingers finding your shoulder, rubbing gently. Lifting your face to meet her eyes, there's something sultry in her touch.

"Of course, I'm more than happy to."

She leans forward, your cheeks flushed.

Face felt warm and you started to stutter.

"T-Thank You. So, where should we start?"

You contemplate for a minute, restraint quickly leaving just as your resistants did. Her eyes felt like they drilled holes into your being. She's practically stripping you naked in her mind.

"Your fantasies of course. Mind telling me a few? Just to get to know what you have going on inside that head of yours."

You blink. Huh?

"I'm not sure that... Uhh..."

"Y/n, don't be shy." Her hand moves to your neck, rubbing a circle with her thumb before as she continues.

"What comes out of your mouth today is prayers. Okay, Dear? As a maiden, I'll keep your secrets." Her lips find your neck, littering your collarbone with feathery open kisses.

She quickly pulls back and stares at you as if this was a usual meeting between you both.

Hopefully, you plead with the gods to let this become a common occurrence .

"So tell me." The way she said it was so obviously a demand, could you do anything but obey?

"Uh.. I don't have many fantasies. It's quite.. Err.. fulfilling to be a writer. Especially with an editor like yourself." You toss her a nervous smile.

"Quite the sweet talker, now..."

The way she looked at you, like she wanted to just..

Eat

You

Up.

Working with Yae Miko isn't easy, the way she's so cunning makes you feel almost insignificant. . . However, Now? It just made the tightness in your briefs feel so... Uncomfortable!

She finds her way on top of you, hips straddling yours, cunt pushed up against your member.

Your hands find her hips, pulling her closer and practically high off her scent. Peachy, sweet. Every part of her overloaded your senses, every bit of you felt so weak against her.

"This is okay right, Miko?" You look for confirmation before exposing her chest. She smiles, almost too innocent compared to how she was keening to your touch, panties were damp and god, you could feel it.

"Let me tell you something, Dear." Her tongue slid up the shell of your ear.

"My fantasy is you." Her voice was airy, you felt like you were dreaming. "Indulge me m'kay? I wanna hear you beg to touch me, can you do that for me?"

"Yes!- I mean, of course, Miko..."

You pull her in for a kiss, it was so kind. Too sweet for the way you wanted to be ruined by her. Too sweet, in contrast to your mouth being invaded by her sweet scent. The way she craved her pussy to be spread with your tongue, she needed you now.

"F-Fuck… Miko…" You feel her smile against your lips as she sways her hips.

"Please let me undress you." Eyes glimmered, gaze softened, "Who baby?" Yae slyly says.

Confused, you spit out the first word that came to mind.

"Mommy please.." God... Shame ran through your veins, the kind that also runs elsewhere. A chuckle reverberates through your ears.

"Hmph, You're too precious." She lifts herself from your lap, allowing you to slip her perfectly tailored kimono from her figure.

Touches burned, everywhere. It was like a stinging; without your touch. She needed to feel you, have you bow down to her. Begging her to let her walls squeeze you.

Her supple skin was in view, your lips latching around a nipple quickly.

Her hand grips your locks, tugging slightly while a 'tsk' comes out, alongside a small moan. You look up to her while you continue to suck on her tits like a baby.

"I want you between my thighs, okay Baby?"

"There you go.." Yae Miko coos, petting your head as you are between her knees. Her kimono was undone at the front, and hair cascaded over her shoulders. Your hand finds her inner thigh, face to face with her clothed cunt.

Sliding your finger to the band of her panties, you remove the garment. Her pussy was so pretty, walls fluttering around nothing while it gushed out sweet nectar you wish you could drown in. You flick your tongue out, licking her thigh before gently biting it. Your hands had a firm grip on her thigh and waist respectively. Soothing circles were being drawn on her tummy, thighs were being gently sucked on 'till they were bruised and pink.

"Ah! So good, Baby, mhm.." Yae Miko lets out a low groan, hand holding a fist full of your hair as a dark hickey begins to form on her pale smooth thigh.

"C'mon baby, taste me." It was a command, one that made you drool.

Taking a breath, you mumble.

"You taste so good…"

It comes out messy, like the way your tongue is preoccupied with stirring up her tight cunt. You felt slender fingers grasp at your scalp again, just harder. Demanding. You take that as a sign to push your whole muscle into her hole.

"Haahh~! Fuck. Yes-Yes..!"

"F-fuck… You're doing so well baby…You're so desperate. So n-needy."

Finding her clit with your fingers, you gently rub her clit while your tongue dips into her heat.

Licking up her slit, you spread her pretty lips and look into her eyes before diving back in like a starved dog.

"F-fuck-! Haah, that feels so good~!" she moans out, breath light and thighs twitching.

"I-I'm gonna cum... More..." She keens, laying her back on the floor as you go down on her, slurping up every drop of her slick. Increasing the pace on her clit, her back arches into your touch. Her ears are twitching, you feel a fluffy tail thump under your lover's thighs. Such a display, one to savor. If only you could engrave this in your memor-

Light thumps echo from the entrance.

Clack clack clack

You pull away from her core, looking at her face. You're messy with wetness, a tent obvious in your pants.

Visibly annoyed having an orgasm interrupted, she straightens her garments and mumbles "One minute..."

Glancing at you, she leans in for a last, wet sloppy kiss. Miko practically eats you whole, she tastes herself on your tongue. It was so... sloppy.

She grabs you, hand on your cheek after quickly tying her kimono.

"You did so good for me. Did I give you a bit of inspiration?" Her eyes bore into yours, other hand grasping your arm.

"Uhh- Y-Yes. Very much so" You adjust your arms, instinctively hiding your very warm face.

"Well then, I'll let you get started with a draft. Okay? I apparently have matters to attend to..." A wink graces her face, you watch as she slips out the door.

Sitting there, you guess it's only natural for an editor to help her precious writer in need!

hi!! this is my first real fic i guess.. feel free to flood my requests! im a slow writer and im unsure on how to end smut.

either way, thank you for reading. if there are any typos plz lemme know.

much love! - vibi