#so you learn to be flexible with what you’ve got

[whotookmysenbon]

@selenophilephile So since you’re a medic nin, does that mean I can come to you for cough treatment whenever? Like, weekly? Semi daily? Daily? *Coughs*

I’m no specialist, Hayate. I’m a Field Medic. If it gets bad properly you need to go see a hospital doctor. But I can reduce the inflammation and soothe the irritation in your lungs when nothing else is helping before you go to the hospital, or on a particularly bad day in general. I can also clear airways in a pinch but that’s a T&I tactic after waterboarding someone and not the most pleasant.

Back to your question though: swing by my place and if I’m off duty or even during the day on my lunch break if you need it and I’ll do what I can.

[plutosunshine]

What changes do you need to make in your life? Uranus in houses

Uranus in the 1st house

If you have Uranus in the 1st house, life is kinda asking you — maybe even pushing you — to embrace your individuality completely. Like, not just surface-level "I'm a little different" — but deep, radical self-acceptance. You're meant to stand out. You’re not here to fit into neat little boxes or live by someone else’s blueprint. And honestly, the more you try to "blend in," the more uncomfortable and restless you’ll probably feel.

Change for you often looks like breaking free from old versions of yourself — shedding layers of identity that don't match who you actually are inside. It's almost like you have to reinvent yourself several times through life, and each time you get closer to your truest, most electric version.

Also, people with Uranus in the 1st house sometimes shock others without meaning to — just by being themselves. If you've ever felt like people either instantly "get you" or are like, "Whoa, what are they about?" — that's totally part of your magic. You're meant to wake people up just by existing. So part of the change you might need is learning not to shrink yourself to make others more comfortable. Your energy shakes things up, and the world needs that.

Basically, life is asking you to be bold about who you are. Own your quirks, trust your instincts, and don't be afraid of people who don't "get it." Your real people will. ⚡

Uranus in the 2nd house

When Uranus is in your 2nd house, life kinda whispers (or sometimes yells), "Hey, your relationship to money, possessions, and self-worth isn't meant to be traditional." Stability in those areas? It's a moving target. You might experience sudden gains and losses, or your income might come from weird, unconventional, or unexpected places — like random side hustles, tech stuff, spiritual work, inventions, or just not the typical 9-5 route.

You're not supposed to cling too hard to stuff — money, belongings, even security in the "normal" sense — because Uranus wants you to find your true value somewhere deeper. It's like life challenges you to stay flexible, resourceful, and open to change. If you ever try to "lock down" your finances too tightly, life might throw curveballs just to remind you: "Hey, you can't control this like everyone else does."

What you’re really being nudged toward is a more authentic, liberated version of security — one that's based on your own inner worth, not just how much is in your bank account or what you own. That can feel wild sometimes, but it’s where your freedom and true abundance live.

Also, with Uranus here, you probably have some super unique talents or ways of creating value — like, skills that aren't "standard issue." Part of your life path is trusting that and not trying to be cookie-cutter about how you "should" earn or what you "should" have.

In short: you’re here to redefine what stability means — on your terms. And once you stop trying to do it the way everyone else expects, the real magic flows.

Uranus in the 3rd house

If you’ve got Uranus in the 3rd house, your mind doesn’t work like everyone else's — and that’s a huge gift. You're wired to think fast, differently, outside the box. Like, while everyone else is still putting the pieces of a puzzle together, you're already looking at the next puzzle two steps ahead. Your ideas can be brilliant, futuristic, and honestly, sometimes even too "out there" for people to immediately understand.

Life pushes you to communicate in your own unique way — whether that’s through writing, speaking, tech, memes, art, whatever fits your flavor. You’re probably not here to just parrot what’s already been said — you're here to spark new conversations. It’s very "I have something different to say, and if you don't get it, that's fine — you'll catch up."

Change-wise, Uranus in the 3rd house wants you to free your voice. Don’t water yourself down just to be understood easily. You're meant to bring new ideas into the world, even if it feels like you're shouting into the void sometimes. You’re also probably here to teach or influence people in unexpected ways — even just by chatting or posting online. You might drop a random comment that seriously changes someone's life without even trying.

Also, heads up: your day-to-day life can be kinda unpredictable. Last-minute trips, sudden changes in plans, weird encounters with siblings or neighbors — that's all very Uranus 3rd house energy. The universe likes to keep your environment stimulating, because your brain craves newness and movement.

So overall, life’s asking you to trust your strange, electric mind — and share it, even if it feels like no one gets it at first. You’re a mental pioneer. 🧠⚡

Uranus in the 4th house

When Uranus is in your 4th house, home and family roots are not exactly "normal" — and they’re not supposed to be. You might have grown up in a household that felt a little unstable, eccentric, chaotic, or just different from what most people around you experienced. Maybe there were sudden moves, surprising family dynamics, or a general sense that home didn’t always mean "predictable."

At a soul level, life is nudging you to redefine what home and emotional security mean for yourself. You’re probably not meant to live a super traditional, white-picket-fence kind of life — unless you totally reinvent what that looks like for you. You're wired to crave emotional freedom as much as emotional connection, which can be a weird balancing act. You want to belong, but not if it means losing yourself.

One big change Uranus asks from you is to detach from old family patterns that no longer support who you are becoming. You might be the one in your family who “breaks the chain” — doing life differently, healing old emotional wounds, choosing freedom over stuck loyalty.

Also, you may randomly move at unexpected times, live in unusual places, have a very unique home setup, or create a kind of “chosen family” of your own. Home for you isn't necessarily one physical place — it’s more about finding people and spaces where you can breathe, be weird, and feel truly safe being yourself.

If you ever feel like your foundation is shaking, it’s usually Uranus asking, "Is this still real for you? Or are you clinging to something out of fear?" And if it’s not authentic, life will eventually push you to shake it loose.

In short: your soul's mission is to create an emotional life based on truth, not tradition — and it's okay if it looks totally different from what you grew up with. In fact, it’s supposed to. 💫

Uranus in the 5th house

When Uranus is in your 5th house, life is saying loud and clear: "You’re not here to create like everyone else. You’re here to shock, inspire, and completely rewrite the rules of self-expression." Your creativity, your passions, even the way you love — it’s all electric, unpredictable, and absolutely unique to you.

You probably get flashes of inspiration out of nowhere — like one minute you're just living your life, the next you’re hit with a wild idea that’s lightyears ahead of its time. Follow those sparks. Your soul is happiest when you’re making or doing something that feels exciting, different, even a little rebellious.

When it comes to love and dating? Yeahhh... not exactly "by the book" either. 😂 You need excitement, freedom, and real connection — not just safe, boring routines. People who try to tie you down too fast or expect you to follow some romance script might make you want to run for the hills. Fast. Love for you needs to feel like an adventure, not an obligation.

Also, with Uranus in the 5th, you're meant to experiment with joy — find what lights you up and don’t be afraid if it changes over time. Hobbies, art, passion projects, even the way you relate to kids (if you have them or ever do) will all have a non-traditional flavor.

The big change Uranus asks of you is to trust your weird, wonderful self-expression, even if it doesn’t make sense to others. You’re not here to color inside the lines — you're here to invent whole new colors. 🎨⚡

And honestly, when you really let yourself play your way, life becomes magic.

Uranus in the 6th house

If Uranus is in your 6th house, life is basically saying: "You’re not meant to do work, health, or daily life the 'normal' way — and the sooner you own that, the freer and happier you’ll be."

You probably get restless with routines that feel too rigid or boring. Clocking into a 9-5 every day doing the same thing forever? Hard pass. Your soul craves freedom in your work life — meaning freelance gigs, weird career paths, sudden changes in job direction, or working somewhere that lets you be independent or innovative. Traditional setups might feel like they drain your life force unless they give you enough space to be you.

And your relationship to health is just as unique. Your body might respond weirdly to stress, routine, diet, or even conventional medicine. Sometimes it’s like your system is more sensitive to energy shifts — so listening to your own intuition, trying alternative healing methods, or mixing different styles might actually work better for you than following the "one size fits all" advice.

The big thing Uranus pushes you to change? Let go of trying to force yourself into boring, mechanical rhythms just because you think you “should.” Find your own rhythm. Make your day-to-day life feel alive, not suffocating. It’s about learning how to serve the world and honor your individuality at the same time — not sacrificing one for the other.

Also — random note — you might suddenly shift habits, diets, or routines overnight. Like, you wake up one day and think, "I'm never eating sugar again" or "I'm quitting this job today." And if you trust those intuitive jolts (and they come from real insight, not just rebellion), they can actually be super healthy for you.

In short: build a life that lets you work and live in a way that feels electric, free, and true — even if it looks totally different from what everyone else is doing. 🛠️⚡

Uranus in the 7th house

If you’ve got Uranus in the 7th house, life is basically setting you up for relationships that break the mold. The traditional "settle down, follow the script" thing? Yeah... not really your destiny. Deep down, you crave connection — but it has to come with a huge side of freedom, authenticity, and excitement.

You might attract super unusual, eccentric, brilliant, rebellious partners — people who are totally different from what your family or friends expect. Or your relationships might start in weird, sudden, out-of-nowhere ways. Sometimes it's instant sparks, sometimes it's chaos, but it’s never boring.

One big thing Uranus asks of you is to rethink what partnership means. You’re not here to merge into someone else or lose yourself in "we" — you're here to form relationships where both people still get to be totally themselves. If someone tries to control you or box you in, your soul is gonna scream, "Nope!" even if everything looks good on paper.

There can also be sudden changes in relationships — fast beginnings, sudden breakups, on-and-off vibes — because your partnerships are meant to reflect growth and evolution, not just stability for stability’s sake. Long-term, the kind of relationship that works for you is one that feels like a conscious choice every day, not an obligation you’re stuck in.

You’re meant to experience partnership as something that’s alive, surprising, and full of breathing room — not something that clips your wings. 🪽

In short: you’re here to build new models of love and partnership, ones that are real, free, and yours — even if they don’t look traditional to the outside world.

Uranus in the 8th house

If Uranus is in your 8th house, you are wired for deep transformation, but it’s not going to be slow, steady, or easy — it’s going to come in flashes, breakthroughs, and total holy sht* moments. Life doesn’t let you stay the same for long. You’re built to shed skins, reinvent yourself, and go through some seriously wild inner changes that shock even you sometimes.

The 8th house is about shared energy — intimacy, deep trust, merging resources, death and rebirth (emotionally, spiritually, and sometimes literally dealing with loss). Uranus here brings sudden shifts in all those deep areas. You might experience unexpected changes with money you share with others — inheritance, investments, debts, etc. But even bigger than money? Emotional intimacy. You probably don’t do closeness the "normal" way. You need freedom even in deep bonds — meaning you’ll crave deep connection but also fear losing your independence if it gets too entangled or heavy.

Part of your growth is learning how to let people in without feeling trapped. And honestly? You're meant to attract people who help awaken you — lovers, friends, mentors — not just keep you safe and cozy. Relationships with you can feel electric, transformative, and a little chaotic because you wake people up, and they wake you up right back.

Also, you probably have some crazy strong intuition about hidden things — emotional undercurrents, secrets, even metaphysical stuff like energy healing, astrology, or psychic phenomena. Uranus in the 8th house often gives flashes of insight into the unseen realms.

In short: you’re here to transform, to trust your inner flashes of insight, and to live through depth without losing your freedom. It’s intense, but you were built for this kind of magic. 🖤⚡

Uranus in the 9th house

If Uranus is in your 9th house, your soul is basically wired for exploration, expansion, and truth-seeking — but in the most wild, non-traditional way possible. You’re not here to just accept what you're taught; you’re here to question everything and find your own truth, even if it’s way outside the "normal" zone.

You might have an intense need for freedom through learning, travel, philosophy, or spirituality — but you’ll always approach those things in your own way. Like, traditional religious systems? Academic structures? "One-size-fits-all" beliefs? Nah, that’s not gonna cut it for you. You need room to roam, both mentally and literally. ✈️📚

Big changes with Uranus here usually look like sudden revelations that totally flip your worldview. One day you might believe in X, the next day you're like, "Nope, it’s Y," because a flash of insight hit you so hard you can’t unsee it. And travel? Yeah — you might have unexpected moves, spontaneous trips, or a restless need to experience different cultures and ways of thinking. Even if you stay in one place physically, your mind is always somewhere new, exploring.

In relationships and life in general, you need people around you who respect your mental freedom. Anyone trying to force you into their belief system or limit your thinking? Instantly a no-go for you.

The change Uranus is pushing you toward is breaking free from inherited beliefs and creating your own understanding of the universe — one that's alive, evolving, and completely yours. You’re here to be a trailblazer in thought, not a follower.

In short: You’re meant to wake people up to bigger, freer ways of seeing life — starting with yourself. 🧠🚀

Uranus in the 10th house

If you have Uranus in your 10th house, you are not here to have a "normal" career or public life — at all. Like, truly, you’re built to shock, inspire, and change the system by just being yourself out in the world.

You might have this deep, restless urge to do work that’s different, groundbreaking, or ahead of its time. Sitting at a desk doing the same thing every day under someone else's rules? Not it. You need freedom, innovation, and the space to carve your own path. A lot of people with this placement either blow up suddenly (like, overnight success out of nowhere) or have a career path that's full of random twists, turns, starts, and reboots. You're not supposed to have a straight-line journey. You’re meant to reinvent yourself publicly over and over.

And when it comes to your reputation? People might see you as rebellious, brilliant, eccentric — maybe even a little unpredictable. Some will admire it, some won’t know what to do with you — but either way, you’re unforgettable. Your energy shakes things up wherever you go, especially in the areas of leadership, fame, career, and achievement.

The big shift Uranus demands from you is: don’t force yourself into traditional definitions of "success." You're supposed to define success on your terms, even if nobody else gets it at first. When you stay true to your weird, genius path, that's when the universe really opens doors for you.

You’re basically a walking permission slip for others to realize they can be successful without selling their soul. 🔥

In short: You’re here to change the game — not play it. 🛸🌟

Uranus in the 11th house

If you have Uranus in the 11th house, you’re literally built to find your people — but it’s not gonna happen in a typical, cookie-cutter way. You're supposed to connect with wildly different, progressive, visionary communities — the weirdos, the geniuses, the rebels, the dreamers — the ones who don't just fit in but want to change the whole damn system.

You’re not meant to just be part of any group; you’re here to help invent new movements, ideas, and futures. You might feel restless or out of place in traditional circles because your soul knows you need a tribe that lets you fully be yourself — no masks, no small talk, no shrinking.

You might also notice that friendships and group connections in your life can be sudden, electric, and sometimes unstable. People can come into your life fast and leave just as fast — but every connection usually brings some kind of awakening or shift, even if it’s short-lived.

Career and dreams? You’re meant to dream big — not just for yourself, but for the collective. Like, you’re here to push humanity forward in your own way, whether that’s through tech, social movements, arts, spirituality, or whatever wild path your heart picks. And honestly, you're usually ahead of your time — you see futures that other people haven't even imagined yet.

The big shift Uranus asks of you is: don’t cling to old friendships, networks, or dreams just because they’re comfortable. Your soul craves growth and evolution. And sometimes that means walking away when a community no longer matches your vibration — even if it’s hard.

In short: you’re here to shake up the collective, connect with your soul tribe, and dream the future into being. 🌍🚀

Uranus in the 12th house

If Uranus is in your 12th house, you’ve got this deep, electric connection to the unseen — the collective unconscious, intuition, dreams, energy fields, things most people can’t even put into words. You’re wired to sense shifts before they happen. Sometimes you’ll just know stuff without knowing how you know. It's like you have a built-in cosmic antenna — picking up on vibes, future trends, hidden emotions, even collective spiritual shifts.

But here's the tricky part: because the 12th house is so hidden, a lot of this Uranian lightning might be happening under the surface, inside you — not always super obvious to you or others. You might feel restless without knowing why, or you might have sudden awakenings that feel totally random but actually aren’t.

Freedom, for you, is an inside job. It’s about freeing yourself from old karmic patterns, unconscious fears, and anything that cages your inner wildness. You’re here to break free from invisible prisons — things like self-sabotage, outdated spiritual beliefs, hidden anxieties.

Also? You’re super plugged into the collective energy. When society goes through chaos or awakening (and let’s be real, it does a lot these days), you might feel it in your body and soul before anything even happens externally. You’re like a cosmic early warning system. 🚨✨

The shift Uranus is asking from you is: trust your flashes of insight, even if they come from dreams, meditation, or deep inner nudges that don’t seem logical at first. And learn how to ground your energy so you don’t get overwhelmed by everything you’re sensing.

You’re meant to be a kind of hidden awakener — someone whose very presence, even quietly, stirs change in others on a deep, soul level. 🌀💫

In short: you’re here to awaken not just your own soul, but the collective dream — and it all starts with trusting your inner electric magic.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

if you love me right then who knows? ✧.*

bnha various x pop star! reader

ya! pro-hero characters (teacher! izuku for his section), a little nsfw but mostly cute/fluff headcanons, as always please read responsibly🤍 i love you ms carpenter

song (album, technically): short n’ sweet

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

- katsuki at the height of his career, may possibly be the most famous person in the country. men and women alike adore him, and its rare he can go out without cameras in his face and people asking for autographs. he, of course, doesn’t filter any of his annoyance. his pr team works overtime for him. he’s learned that being famous is fickle and fleeting. he’s made up his mind that if the world only gives him 15 minutes, he’d light it up so bright no one could forget it. its who he is ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

- he’s already very popular. so when the news of pro-hero dynamite and rising star [y/n] [l/n] had allegedly begun seeing each other? they freak out. 

- he doesn’t bother to hide it, anyway. you meet at some fancy gala. you’re both there for publicity, and by the time you run into him, he’s ready to go home. but there’s something about your voice, the way everyone seems to adore you, that reels him in. somehow, he finds himself in your good graces, and now he’s thought of you every night since then.

- before you, he’d only listen to hard rock, and was kind of an asshole about it. that doesn’t change, but now when he hits shuffle one of your glittery girly songs will play. and yes, he listens all the way through. ꕥ

- theres video compilations of him bringing you up during interviews. its second nature to him, being wrapped around your finger. but he’s also quick to bite anyone who even thinks of talking bad about you. he’s yours, and wants the whole world to know it. he’d never admit this, but he’s scared of messing up. he doesn’t want to give you reasons to him, or to be a motherfucker that embarrasses you. if he can help out, he never wants to be the reason for your next breakup album.

- he’s your biggest supporter. he often gets fed up with the paparazzi and their invasiveness, especially when all he wants to do is watch his partner perform. however, he has a soft spot for your fans, the ones who have supported you and gotten you all the love you deserve. he claims friendship bracelets and hats are dumb but doesn’t hesitate to receive bracelets your fans make at concerts. most of the time, its brightly coloured beads with song lyrics or little inside jokes from your fandom. he once got a bracelet that was dynamite-themed and he keeps it on his dresser. he loves being accepted by you and the people that love you.

- he has 100 reasons to be cocky, and the fact that theres songs you’ve written about him is one of them. you’re out here singing about good bed chem and making tongue paintings and everyone knows he’s what inspired it. makes sense when you look at him.

- oh, and speaking of concerts? he can’t be there every time- hero work is demanding- but for you? he’s flexible. watching you perform makes his entire week. he’ll watch from the wings, nodding along with the beat, his heart swelling when he hears you belt and hold the note. the best part is what the audience doesn’t get to see- him catching you as you run to him, kissing your head and spinning you around, telling you how proud he is.

“i’m glad you made it.” you gleam, almost forgetting to turn your mic off so no one else gets to hear. he wipes a little sweat off your head, almost a little envious at how good you can look after a 2 hour show.

“of course, idiot.” he smirks. “wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

- that night, he gives you 8 inches and 3 new song ideas ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

SHOUTO TODOROKI

- fun fact: shouto is voted most handsome pro-hero of the year, right after hawks ᢉ𐭩

- despite his massive popularity, he’s the most private on this list. he knows what its like to have to smile for the cameras, to keep things looking neat and pretty, all for an act. so as much as possible, he tries to keep the good in his life to himself. he’s never seen an ugly truth that couldn’t be bent into something that looks better.

- he worries he’s making it hard for you to love him. you’re always patient, saying you can take it, that you also want something very private. but god, do you make it hard for him. even when the rumours of your relationship swirl, he’s tempted to just come out and confirm it so he doesn’t have to feel the uncertainty.

- all of his worries wash away, however, when he hears lyrics about him. it makes his heart ache, even when it’s something simple, that you want him to miss you or want him to think of you when he holds someone else (not that he’d be holding anyone other than you). people can speculate who you’re writing about, but its little gift to him that he’s privy to it.

- he will not miss a single award show with you. because you two are so private, the fans go crazy or even small interactions between you two. theres grainy footage of you two talking and holding hands with everyone crashing out in the comment section (😭)

- his siblings loveeeeee your music. them, living more normal, less famous lives, have the privilege of seeing your concerts without being bothered or questioned. fuyumi streams your album’s religiously and drags natsuo and his girlfriend along as well. you tossed her a guitarl pick once and she hasn’t emotionally recovered from it, let alone the fact that her little brother is dating you ৻ꪆ

- he takes it as a blessing everyday that he gets to see your process. he specifically loves creating album covers with you. you asked him if, hypothetically, he wanted to be on the cover for the deluxe version and he blanked out. you have to remind him that he’s literally the entire package, that he fits perfectly, and that you can’t resist that face of his, and that you both arrive at the same time.

- like katsuki, he also enjoys attending your concerts. he happily embraces you, knowing that while the audience got you for an entire show, he gets to have you for as long as you’ll love him. he makes sure to hold you on his right side in case you’re overheating from the performance.

“here, let me grab these for you.” he says, helping you undo your performance outfits, unzipping the chunky glitters and fluorescent fabrics. he thinks that there isn’t a single colour that looks bad on you, but can’t imagine what its like to wear these for hours at a time.

“thanks, shouto.” you hum happily, already looking at the tweets.

[randomfan1]: guys i swear i saw shouto at [y/n]’s show tonight

IZUKU MIDORIYA

- unlike the other two on this list, he’s not famous. he’s spent a few years now teaching, and its a job he’s learned to love. its humble, and quiet, but he can’t help but feel like some part of it is missing. he started to entertain the idea that he’d end this life alone.

- he meets you at a party. you’re a friend of a friend, and he still can’t believe that he has a real, breathing famous singer in front of him. not only that, but you notice him in a room of other celebrities. he was bound to fall for you the moment your eyes made contact.

- much like shouto, he keeps it private. even if he did, he wouldn’t have very many people to tell. his friends were the reason he even met you. his mom adores you. who does that leave, his students? he’s humble, even when he’s dating the most gorgeous and talented person to ever breathe.

- he loves being in the studio with you. it started out with just little sessions, kissing while talking, watching you tune your guitar and play little notes on your piano. then he became the first person to hear your demos and rough drafts. now? he has song writing credits in your newest album ❤︎₊ ⊹

- his ideas give you so much more than just butterflies. he has this way of finishing your sentences, knowing and feeling the exact vision you had for a piece. every now and then, he’ll flick through your notebook and find verses that sound awfully familiar. he wonders if he’s the guy who’s “jacked and kind” and who “talks sweet when you’re doing bad things.” he won’t say anything at first, but he’ll nestle his head between your legs and give you more things to write about.

- he’s an empath. he knows how exhausting it is sometimes, having all your moves watched and studies and scrutinized. he sees you always acting, always trying to be beautiful, and it kills him that its such a natural part of fame. for that reason, he makes sure his apartment is a safe house for you, and that his bed is a secret oasis. he’d do anything for you. ❦.

- he attends when he has the time, standing in the crowd alongside your other fans. he always feels a rush to his cheeks when he hears you belting those lines, knowing their for him. its a secret he loves having, and one that he’d love to talk about when you’re ready. he always puts you first.

“stuck?” he asks, wrapping his arm around you, watching you as you tap your pen against the paper.

“yeah, i keep thinking of you instead of the song.” you groan, laying your head back on his bicep. he just laughs.

“i thought i inspired you?” he kisses your cheek. while normally nervous around others, you bring out the side of that’s comfortable teasing and playing with you.

“you do inspire me.” you smile. “but its not helping right now.”

he cups your face in his calloused, lips ghosting over yours. “maybe i need to give you better ideas, then.” he says, before kissing you deeply.

“yeah, maybe.”

[justevelynnnn]

sudden love.

night crawler x afab!reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Lots of smut in the second half of this…, PiV, oral s//x, reader is written as a female as well as being chubbier, slightly mentions of reader being insecure, mention of reader being tipsy, a bit of profanity at the end

Summary: Here’s what happens when you start working for the x-men as an intern and you run into a blue demon man 💙

Note: Sorry it’s been a million years since i posted but i just got lazy🙁😕😕😕 anyways live, laugh, nightcrawler

Part 2

You wondered how you got here.

In bed, with the one and only Kurt Wagner. A man who was so focused on being holy and pure…under you, fully naked and eagerly whining. His golden eyes bore into yours as you bounced on him. His tail wrapped around your waist tight. Fingers on each side squishing your thighs…

It might’ve started when you started working for the X-men as an intern. Of course, you first had to pledge to neverrrr share any big secrets you learned or plans shared during meetings. Then you got settled. You had a little office next to Jean Grays’s. Your job was the usual boring intern stuff…following scott around and organizing files and pouring coffee. By week 4, you actually memorized all the x-men’s coffee orders.

Jean Gray liked lattes with a bit of extra sugar. Scott Summers and Logan liked theirs dark. Gross. Morph’s fluctuated, sometimes they wanted a mocha sometimes also dark. Beast liked his coffee extra sugary…

At the end of the day, you didn’t want to necessarily be an X-man. You really just needed some type of job that would except mutants. But they all had a lot of knowledge to share, and you never turned down an opportunity to listen and gain some wisdom.

It wasn’t until you were in charge of setting the danger room schedule when you met him. Did he catch you off guard bamfing behind you? Maybe. Did you feel horrible after especially seeing his tail droop? Yup.

You quickly scrambled to apologize.

“I’m so sorry! You just caught me off guard..!” You say watching him shake his head.

“Oh, it’s fine. I get it a lot. I’m blue..covered in fur…bright yellow eyes…” He says in a nonchalant tone looking at the ground. He also had this strong german accent. He also was possible being sarcastic…

And before you could apologize again he interrupted by introducing himself. His name was Kurt Wagner, or Nightcrawler. Fitting…

You’ve seen him around but mainly in the danger room flipping and bamfing around. He was also ridiculously flexible and you think he has a yoga class? He’s also said to be very devoted to his faith. You then noticed his shiny cross necklace and his golden rosary.

You told him your name and he mentioned seeing you around himself. A sweet little compliment was sprinkled in you guys small talk and then he was gone quicker than he showed up. Though, you still felt bad for your initial reaction to him later that day.

The next time you saw him was a week later in the evening. You just were sitting there reading a book, decompressing after a long day of organizing papers and sending emails, when suddenly BAMF! and now here is Nightcrawler startling you yet again.

“GEEZ!” You shout but not really at him, also dropping your book.

“Am I really that ugly?” Kurt jokes pouting a bit as he perched on the coffee table he landed on.

“No! Just you-“

“Ohhh, it’s fine..i get it..”

He’s clearly joking with you again so you laugh bit. You thank him as he hands you your book and sits next to you. You quietly take in small details of him like his pointed ears or his tail or even the slight indication of pupils in his eyes as he looked at you.

Insert more small talk here and then he’s gone again.

You figured he either really was curious about you or was bored. The idea of him having some crush never crossed your mind. But this was the Nightcrawler we’re talking about! He could have any girl, mutant or human, so why choose an intern? Especially one like you with your thick thighs and plump stomach.

But as time went on, he started to find you daily. He found any reason to speak to you and anything to talk about. Inviting you on evening strolls or even his bible studies which he didn’t mind if you went or not. He taught you how to cook german dishes once and you showed him your favorite hiding spot in the mansion.

It really felt like a spark started. He really grew on you. He was funny, sweet, warm…

His compliments became more frequent too, each one making you blush even more.

Soft touches here and there..

Hugs that lasted longer than the ones before…

Prolonged eye contact…

Then months later the topic of relationships came up. It was embarrassing to admit but you told him you never had one… yet you were a bit shocked to learn he’s had a few back in his day.

“But you’re…?”

“Catholic. I know.”

“And you even..?”

He nods but then smirks. “I was a tad libidinous before…now i just want to…settle. Perhaps even find my soulmate.”

You blush as he stares into your soul on the soulmate part. Could he be referring to..you?

Your time as an intern was wrapping up but everyone loved you so much you just decided to stay. So, you went full time which means more time for you and Kurt to bond. You wondered what they could all mean… his stolen glances and the way he touched you sometimes…

“He likes you.”

“What?!” You say turning around, wide eyed at Jean one evening. Kurt had just bamfed away, but was she standing there the whole time???

“I said, he likes you…a lot.” She smirks. “I know how he gets when he’s in love y’know..i’ve known him for a while.”

“..Love?” You say quietly.

“You’re different too. He’s nervous to say anything.” She slowly comes up next to you and smiles. “But, i can tell you like him a lot too…”

You just blush. Was it really that obvious the whole time?

Could it really be true?

Then, one evening after watching the sunset on the roof and a deep conversation later you two were sharing a bottle of wine. In his words, “It’s fine to indulge in sin sometimes, no?” Probably joking again…

He was big on his faith, for sure. He says it saved him and you could tell. His devotion was admirable.

After the first glass, you already really opened up. Still in your work clothes, but feeling more confident and loose. And by the second, you were a giggling mess. Anything Kurt said either made you blush or laugh. You never felt so alive or comfortable in your skin.

“I wish this could last forever, y’know? This moment…” You sigh as the sun sets. It’s getting darker, the moon getting brighter..stars shining.

“Ja…this was a pretty one. This sunset. ” He agrees with you and scooted closer. “But not as pretty as you, dear.”

“You’re a charmer Kurt…but I dunno…sometimes I wonder why you chose me to spend all your free time with. Like, me specifically. It’s not like I’m one of your gorgeous fan girls..” You play with the hem of your button down vest, it’s untucked now a sign of you being more comfortable.

Kurt doesn’t say anything for a bit. It makes you nervous. So nervous you accidentally pulled a few threads from your vest. You weren’t looking for pity, no. You were genuinely curious. He’s famous, well known. In great shape. Strong morals… It just really bewildered you.

Were you insecure…? Maybe just a bit..who isn’t? You try everyday to be more confident. You were working for the x-men for crying out loud! It was a big deal. But sometimes, you wished you were a bit..different. Slimmer, more graceful even.

“Y/n….” He said finally. It was a soft tone, softer than usual. Gentle…

You don’t say anything but you just look into his eyes.

“I’ve never felt so strongly for a woman before..for anyone before. You truly don’t realize how beautiful you are. Inside and out. There is something magnetic about you that draws me to you…” He takes your hand and kisses it. Your heart explodes. No one has ever talked you like this before.

“Kurt…”

“I’ve been thinking about asking for a while…getting to know you for these past several months has been memorable. I feel we’re forming a strong connection. One that can last is years…y/n, would I…be wrong to ask you to be mine?”

Everything happened so quickly next.

You drunkenly kissed him after he asked you that. In your head that was an answer. You immediately regretted it, feeling you stepped out of line but before you could apologize he kissed you right back. And passionately. Like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. It was getting dark now and bit chilly honestly but the heat of his body against yours kept you warm enough.

Then instead of a hard roof, you were suddenly on a softer surface. A bed.

Kurt’s bed. In Kurt’s room.

“Is it okay?” He asked panting as he pulled back and saw you realize what had happened. “Being here..I mean..”

“Are we gonna…?” You say also panting.

“Do you want to?”

You think for a moment. Were you really going to lose your virginity to an Xman?

He already has a condom in hand by the time you nod. He pulls off his shirt exposing his furry toned torso. He softly kisses you again and you hum. You wondered if it was the alcohol or the way his hands felt on your body was making you feel so good. You allowed him to slowly take off your clothes. Piece by piece.

He was gentle with removing everything, but carelessly threw them on the ground behind him once it was off.

He stopped admired you once you were fully undressed. It made you want to hide behind your hands. The pure look of lust he had in his eyes…eyes that glistened at this point.

He traced a finger along your curves and folds, stopping to kiss some parts. You never felt this way before. It was like he was worshiping you.

He knew you were inexperienced so he took his time. When he was between your legs getting you ready he was ever so tender. He fingered you ever so slowly. Whispering praises as you took his finger because with him one was honestly enough. Then his head was between your thighs as he licked your folds delicately as well, savoring each swipe of his tongue. He had a way of making your legs shake, your back bend and you to sing his name.

When he felt you were ready for him he ever so teasingly slow rolled the condom on and inched slowly inside of you. Of course he made sure you were ready before he started to enter you. It did hurt a bit at first, like an intense stretch with some pressure. It definitely took a while especially given..his size.

But he was patient, and gentle and understanding.

Then he started thrusting. And thrusting. And groaning and moaning and gripping and kissing. The whole bed moved as the two of you moved. He thrusted slowly but deeply, pulling out completely and thrusting his whole length back inside you.

At some point your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. You swore you saw heaven as he hit a spot on the inside.

Every part of you burned hot with pleasure. You barely registered your own orgasm several minutes later and he licked a spot he bit on your neck moments before. He didn’t finish long after, plopping next to you panting. His tail laid across you on purpose. He then smiled goofily at you like he didn’t just have you under him seeing star’s minutes ago.

Your skin was sticky and your legs ached.

But you weren’t done.

You flipped him over and climbed on top of him. He was stunned, but let you as he was once again mesmerized by your nude body. He was a sucker for breasts.

You felt dominant as you straddles him with your thick thighs, positioned him with your entrance and slowly sunk down. Again, it was a stretch at first. Kurt was definitely blessed in the manhood department, but this was a position you knew about from before and you knew it was for more experienced people. Yet, it could’ve been the liquid courage too.

As you started to move, Kurt unraveled. That confident horny man from an hour ago? The one who had you nearly cumming in his mouth from slow flicks with his tongue? Or, hell, a single wink after some dirty joke?

Well, now he’s ready to bust himself from any simple moment you make. His hands rest in the sides of your hips as he helped you but you still did most of the work. Now slightly bouncing more and quicker after growing more confident.

This is who you thought Kurt to be. It’s nice to see this shy and submissive version of him. He tilted his head back as you wiggle against his pelvis. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he held back.

It was mesmerizing to watch him come undone too. The way his mouth was parted, intoxicating noises escaping him. The way his dark hair stuck to his damp fur on his forehead. The way his cheeks darkened ever so slightly from being dominated…

It wasn’t long before he came again. His moans louder this time. Even drawing out your name.

You laid on top of him, knees even more achey than before, heart pumping so hard you swore he could feel it or even hear it.

You two stayed like that for a while. This time done for real. Both exhausted but utterly satisfied.

Kurt eventually helped clean up. He wiped you gently with a damp towel and gave you an oversized shirt to wear to cover up. Even getting you water after you used his bathroom.

“That was…hm..” Kurt said quietly laying next to you once everything was cleaned.

“It was fucking incredible.” You responded quietly. Inside you kept asking yourself…how did this happen?

“..Ja…” He sighs. ��Wanna make this a weekly event?”

And after this? How could one not not agree?

[nouearth]

baby-sitting for miguel o'hara. (part ii)

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part i.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, top!miguel, soft!miguel at times!!, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, thoughts of sex, fantasy!sex, masturbation, humping, kinda domestic idk.

notes: it's been a long time coming. 💀 i honestly was struggling to find like a plot for the second part, or just how to move forward. lmao. but i hope this turned out okay???

—never again, miguel promised himself that night. 

—it had been a few weeks since he last jerked off to your briefs. the blue undergarment that he came into were thrown somewhere under his bed, far from his reach.

—and as tempting as it was to smell you again, he mustered up the courage to leave the stained fabric alone. 

—for good.

—miguel despised what he had become.

—settling his sex life on a lone piece of fabric, it was pathetic. 

—from dusk til dawn, you participated in a triathlon of his delirious state of mind and competed for several awards that would then be mediated by miguel. 

—had it been a real competition, he would’ve been fired for exhibiting extreme favoritism because you’d win all the trophies and medals.

—a ‘helping hand’ award he would award you a few mornings ago, where he jerked off to the thought of you giving him a handjob during his lunch break.

—multiple ‘most improved’ awards for when you were able to throat his cock a little more than before.

—and another for when your ass was able to take miguel in without needing to pause or adjust for his size, even if the strain of your facial expressions told a different story.

—gagging in between moans, coughing out thick globs of spit, wincing in bittersweet pain when he pushed in, arching in complete pleasure when he pushed out.

—he loved the idea of watching and hearing you struggle because of his cock.

—though, it was only until recently when he began feeling a strong sense of guilt for portraying you in such a manner.

—it was a promotion at work that allowed his hours to be more flexible than before, and miguel utilized that to the fullest by spending every waking second with his daughter.

—and you.

—even when he came home early, he never sent you home.

—maybe it was the perfect opportunity to get one step closer into your pants.

—or maybe he wanted to get to know the babysitter that gabriella had taken an extreme liking to.

—get to know the babysitter that had somehow made miguel feel something more than simply lust.

—you hungry? you haven’t taken your eyes off of your thesis paper since i got here.

—hm...?

—that night, you’d look up at him with those bright eyes, that bright smile that latched onto miguel’s adam apple and made it hard for him to swallow. 

—it was as radiant as the first time he saw you. one wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past few weeks.

—oh! i guess i’m a little hungry. i haven’t eaten since breakfast—

—breakfast? i told you that you could rummage through the pantries, right? you practically live here at this point.

—i know, i know! once i get in the zone, i kind of forget about everything… except for gabriella! it’s funny. as loud as her cries are, they’re kind of my savior right now.

—hm...

—it’s getting late, so i’ll just whip up something at home—

—no, stay. i’ll cook something.

—sir, you don’t have to—

—miguel’s chest swelled. that word again.

—i’m cooking. stay, or i’m firing you for wasting my ingredients.

—hey, unfair! pretty sure that’s a violation of our contract or something!

—it didn’t take long for it to become a regular occurrence.

—miguel would cook a late dinner for two, and he’d join you on the couch with a plate of what the limit of his culinary skills could whip up. 

—it wasn’t like this every day, but it was often, which was more than what miguel could ask for.

—he would use the little time he had with you to learn about you more. your interests, your background, your passions, your personality, and you’d do the same. 

—on some nights, he’d proof-read your thesis paper and provide some feedback that you would immediately take in consideration and make the changes to your paper.

—on many nights, he’d simply close your laptop and force you to take a break because as alluring as those recent eye bags were, your health was a priority.

—stay for the night. it’s late.

—i’m almost done for the night! i just have a few more—

—nope, you’ve used up all your excuses. i’m confiscating this.

—where am i even supposed to sleep?!

—and on those many nights, you’d end up sleeping on miguel’s couch despite the persistent offers of his comfier bed.

—there would be times where you two would chat into the night while the tv played in the background. 

—you’d ask each other about your day, tell stories about gabriella, bond over shared interests, fueled debates over a quality of a certain movie, until fatigue hit either you or miguel.

—usually you were the first one to fall asleep, and he would watch you silently.

—the flickering lights from the tv would accentuate your features in the night, and he never knew he could find you even more handsome.

—your complete vulnerability was enticing. 

—you would curl into the blanket he’d given you, and miguel would take the time to count the seconds it would take for you to exhale your dreams.

—the longer it was, the deeper you were into your sleep.

—it wouldn’t be until thirty exhales more that miguel would send himself to bed.

—five seconds, miguel would find himself mimicking the pattern of your breath before he drifted off into the night.

—then there would be nights where the subject matter would be more personal, more than miguel would have liked.

—does it get lonely sometimes?

—i’d be lying if i said no. not all the time, though. i have gabriella.

—huh…

—is that why you’re a complete grump all the time?

—watch it.

—i’m kidding! good thing you have me too, right?

—yeah.

—good thing i have you too… miguel sighed heavily at the empty side of his bed, staring into the darkness until the shadows from the night had forged a shape of your body.

—he closed his eyes when he felt a whisper of your lips near his, barely ghosting over his pair, and stroke himself to the possible reality of you becoming his. 

—fuck... he then lied on his stomach and began humping into the bed, against the bed sheets, and held the imagination of your body close to his own, protecting you like his life depended on it.

—i need you… miguel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the memory of your shampoo as he polished his hips further into the bed. 

—his cock rubbed in between his body and the soft sheets as he’d imagine unsheathing himself in and out of you at a slow yet steady pace.

—because he needed to savor you.

—he would imagine how you’d respond with every thrust. 

—your words would glue to your throat because you’d be too overwhelmed by his size, by the pleasure that miguel would finally be delivering to you, by the doting hold around you, and with the aid of his hips, your words would like crystallized honey.

—miguel would push his cock into you deeper, taking in the sound of your voice into his with a warm kiss. — i— 

—you would draw out sounds from your throat until they were practically begs when miguel would pull out excruciatingly slow to tease, then a demand as he would doubt your confession by cautiously following the outline of your pucker with the tip of his cock.

— need—

—his hips would lift, then come down onto you like hail. hard and sudden as his cock would ram into your tight fill, knock your breath back into the tight of your throat.

— you— 

—you need him. 

—miguel could tell from the way you completed allowed him to invade your reserve until he was balls-deep inside of you. 

—from the way he’d pull out once more and your hole would memorize the shape of his cock, down to his thick girth. puckering to the recollection of his throbbing veins.

—and he’d be the one to bridge the puzzle pieces together as he would press himself forward and bend your legs back before slamming his cock back into you  with the delirious evocation of lust.

—you would stifle your moans into your forearm as the bed rocked to the strong rhythm of miguel’s thrusts, but he’d pull your arms away and hold your wrists above your head.

—he needed to hear you.

—hear how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

— i’m going to come—

—you’d grunt in between the heavy and sticky sounds of your skin colliding against one another, into the thick air that you and miguel had mutually forged together. 

—his other hand had been wrapped around your cock, jerking the throbbing muscle to every count of his balls bouncing off your bottom. 

—he would squeeze and stroke, your pre-cum coming down in thick drips, and he would thumb at the slippery wet slip until the pad of his thumb was layered in your thick substance.

—until his fist was covered in a glorious amount of your warm cum, inking him deep with your devotion before feeding you of your own need. 

—he would bring his hand up to you and slip two fingers inside of your mouth. your tongue would slowly roll over his cum-covered digits, sucking the bittersweetness off of him.

—it wouldn’t be long until it would be miguel’s turn. 

—miguel would continue bringing the remaining fingers up to your mouth for you to cleanse him off, and it would be enough for him to have him in shambles.

—imagining you devour your own sweet lust until all five of his fingers were polished clean awakened him to another level of pure ecstasy, and miguel groaned, rocking desperately into his bed.

—your warm hands would all over his toned body, fueling the tension in his stomach as you would prioritize the center of his abdomen.

—fuck, come in me—

—miguel would his weight onto you, his large body practically devouring you in sheer size as the heat and sweat confined you to the parameters, and he’d hold you close once more by slipping his arms around you.

—a cycle of thrusts quickened every round and you held onto him. kissing at the side of his neck. suckling at the round of his shoulder. 

—i’m coming… he muttered to himself, to no one but the wrinkled sheets beneath him, and fucked his cock harder into his bed.

—and when you heard a shudder coming from the depths of miguel’s strained throat, you licked a stripe at the center of his throat to pacify him, making your way to the plush of his lips, and kissed him at the pivot of his climax.

—miguel would exhale hard against your mouth before kissing you and spilling delirious moans into the captivity when he would begin flooding your insides with his thick and warm cum. 

—heavy ropes would ricochet off your violated inside, but miguel would press into you closer, harder, and intimately so, until your foreheads were bruised into one another.

—in occurring reality, miguel painted his bed sheets in thick layers of warmth and musk. layers of cum wetting his bed as he desperately held onto his fantasies with sensitive rolls of his hips.

—his tongue would tangle into yours, practicing a slow, sensitive waltz as his softening cock would sink deep into your hole. 

—and you would moan and suckle around him as you felt every drop of cum warm you from the inside and out, shielding you from the goosebumps that would frost your skin.

—the kiss would remain its passionate dance as you both relaxed into each other. your legs unwrapped to tangle into miguel’s, expertly lifting the blanket over your feet in the process. 

—he would hold you tighter once he broke the kiss, turning you on your side as he lied flat on his back. 

—your head would rest on his chest after pulling the remaining blanket up to your bodies and you would sigh, suddenly feeling drowsier with miguel’s warm caress aiding sleep against your back.

—for the remaining moment, he would gaze at the sheen of sweat that highlighted the flush of your skin. 

—he would listen to the beat your heart, slowly coming to its resting pace as you succumb to sleep under the spell of his doting touch.

—and he would strangely feel a need to hold you, shelter you inside of his arms because he feared something would happen to you.

—fuck.

—miguel quickly rolled back onto his back in the midst of catching his breath, the shadows that had formed the image of you unfurling into obscurity. 

—he felt his heart race, bullets rebounding off the beating surface like a drum, and he placed a hand over his chest to pacify at the sudden swell of his chest. —i think i love you.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[punksocks]

Signs Your on the Right or Wrong Path:

(Check your Moon sign, Mars sign, Ascendant, and/or North Node)

(Also wrong path behaviors tend to fit underdeveloped energy, so you may recognize these behaviors in low vibrational people with these placements)

Right path:

-Aries: You feel energetic, you may start working out more/doing more physical activities, you’re going on new adventures, pure enthusiasm, you’ve got a lot of new prospects, you still charge into situations and sometimes arguments but you avoid constant fighting and long term grudges

-Taurus: You’re making money/feeling abundant, you’re feeling creative, feeling satisfied with physical comforts (perfect meals, great self care, etc), feeling stubborn still but in a reasonable grounded way with a bit of flexibility

-Gemini: You’re quick on your feet, constantly coming up with new ideas, you’re winning a lot of verbal sparring matches/debates, suddenly absorbing a lot of new information, feeling like you’re in an intellectually stimulating environment

-Cancer: Emotionally at ease, feeling protective without being defensive, feeling at home with whatever loved ones you’re around, peaceful nostalgia, comfort in your environment/home life, being nurturing without forcing it, feeling more fertile (as straightforward as pregnancy but as all encompassing as getting a lot of new ideas or being great at cooking or growing a garden that blossoms, etc)

-Leo: Gaining attention effortlessly, increased self confidence/charisma, more creativity, getting more compliments than usual, feeling empowered and like your gettting the right amount of attention and feedback on a regular basis

-Virgo: Great productivity, being seen as reliable and supportive and being appreciated for it, getting to cross items off your todo lists, -less- anxiety and overthinking/finding ways to soothe this, improved mental health, your hygnine and routine improve and flow better, being supported and given space to rest and relax when you need to

-Libra: increased charm/beauty (a glow up essentially), peace in your social life, increased romance, getting more compliments than usual, ease in making choices, generally feeling more balanced, feeling more creative

-Scorpio: Being around people/a person you can actually really trust, being allowed to open up in your own time, great intimacy with passion and payoff and all that, transformations come easy-like shedding a second skin, feeling rewarded with safety in exchange for the vulnerability you do show, depth and understanding even if it’s only with one or two people

-Sagittarius: constant stimulation and exciting adventures (big or small), growing understanding and philosophies, more opportunities to travel and good things coming from travel, more opportunities to learn about cultures outside of your own, increased optimism and luck

-Capricorn: making money/long term investments & projects starting to pay off, clear and healthy skin, getting money from random places, your new ideas work out better than expected, gaining recognition for your hard work, elevating to new heights/gaining promotions at work, being able to carve out your own path of progress

-Aquarius: embracing your uniqueness and being celebrated for it, one of a kind ideas, feeling innovative, feeling good will and participating in humanitarian efforts, getting involved with the local community, embracing chaos and being rewarded for it, losing the desire to fit in.

-Pisces: good dreams, fluidity in daydreams and reality, new sparks for your creativity coming from your subconscious/good spiritual efforts, heightened clarity, peace of mind and tranquility coming more naturally, understanding what you process subconsciously and trusting your intuition more

Wrong path:

-Aries: Feeling lethargic/losing energy after short bursts, headaches, restlessness, constantly being stalled when you try new things, constant fighting with everyone and anyone that never seems to end

-Taurus: You’re losing money/abundance, you’re feeling rushed, you’re overindulging/binging on comforts- none of your luxuries fill the void, every hill is a hill you’re willing to die on (feeling especially stubborn)

-Gemini: You’re bored, feeling stuck, you’re having issues communicating (suddenly stuttering or drawing blanks, for example, you could even lose your voice), trouble learning and thinking, feeling like no one around you can match your intelligence

-Cancer: constantly manipulating emotions around you/your emotions being constantly manipulated, toxic codependency on family/loved ones, chest pains, yearning for the past and dissatisfaction with the present, lack of care, lack of fertility

-Leo: attention starved and you have to beg for others to pay attention to you, back pains, feeling like you only get attention at the wrong times/for the wrong things, a lot of envy/jealousy, acting out in bratty/diva ways, partying too much

-Virgo: overthinking (like you’re always going to overthink, but when it’s bad you cannot stop overthinking), uncontrollable anxiety, stomach aches, a lot of busy work with very little progress, endless to-do lists, sudden forced changes to your consistency/routine, being used for support and this being thankless, insane levels of restlessness

-Libra: Loss of appeal (not being ugly but finding your charm and general appeal towards others works less than it usually does), being depressed/uninspired about your looks, feeling like all your connections are shallow/loss of romance, being surrounded by conflict, finding it impossible to make decisions, loss of creativity

-Scorpio: feeling like -something- is off and not being able to shake that feeling (something probably is off, trust your gut), feeling like you need to guard your secrets/yourself with your life, gossip and rumors about you coming from your inner circle, intimacy that doesn’t feel worth it, you or others trying to bar you from changing & transforming, shallow connections, repeating cycles of toxic behavior

-Sagittarius: Boredom/stagnancy, shutting down discussions/learning by being too blunt, close mindedness in general, feeling stuck or cagey, environments that lack cultural stimulation, sudden bouts of bad luck/things falling apart

-Capricorn: losing money/going over budget, business ventures failing, skin problems/breakouts, drowning in work but not being able to finish any of it, being stuck in toxic systems/patterns of behavior, being controlled/dominated, having your ambition capped/hitting a glass ceiling of some sort in your goals

-Aquarius: conformity/changing your identity or ideals to conform to others, feeling cold/too disconnected towards others (like seeing people as a problem to solve instead of individuals to help), calculating behavior in general, lack of ingenuity/out of the box ideas, being too rooted in the past/how things once were

-Pisces: nightmares, not being able to tell the difference between reality and daydreams, increased problems with mental illness, being triggered uncontrollably by your subconscious, dealing with more illusions and lies, creativity stalling, romanticizing your connections and the people around you (seeing depth where there is none or vice versa)

[sylvesterelle]

Meditations in an Emergency Part 1

Fem!Reader/Simon "Ghost" Riley/John "Soap" MacTavish

“Like it feels so good to get and give a compliment and we should normalize doing it more often. Strangers reaching out across the great abyss for a moment of connection,” you say, leaning back and gesturing broadly. “Ships passing in the night with naught but a toot-toot of mutual appreciation.”

“I don’t think that’s how the shipping industry works.” Or: How to live well and get railed through the power of compliments.

Part 1 of 3, 5.8k words, mature, cw: alcohol, cannabis, bisexual lusting in every direction

Read on AO3 I Read part two | Read part three

"I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love. "

Frank O'Hara, "Meditations in an Emergency"

“I just think people should compliment each other more, that’s all,” you declare, biting the cherry off the plastic sword that Kat, the bartender, had stuck in your Dirty Shirley. “Like we think these things all the time. Her scarf is pretty, or that guy’s got a cool haircut or whatever. We notice them, we think about them, but so rarely do we sayit, you know?  Even though being complimented is the best,” you say emphatically, using the tiny sword to punctuate your words.

Kat nods and gives you a second cherry because Kat is good people. Kat serves you doubles while charging for singles and listens to you ramble and lets you spread your notebooks and laptop on the bar when it’s slow, like tonight.

It’s early on a Friday evening which means you’re supposed to be writing. You pay the bills as a ghostwriter during the week, and you like it, you do. The flexibility to work strange hours late into the night, remote so you can write in coffee shops and cocktail bars and anywhere loud enough to drown out the more distracting of your thoughts. 

The problem is you devote so much time to other people’s work that you’d promised to use weekends for your own ideas. Easier said than done, without an irate publisher on the other end setting deadlines and demanding pages. The other problem with your ideas is that you just have so many of them; find it hard to complete one without getting distracted by another, your hard-drive a graveyard of drafts in various states of decomposition. But routine helped, so there at the bar you’ve sat every Friday night for almost two months, even if you’ve spent proportionally less time writing than people-watching and sweet-talking Kat into making you interesting drinks off-menu. (“This is a dive bar,” she’s told you more than once. “We don’t have a menu to be off of.”)

It’s not not part of your writing process, you reason. You’re a firm believer that life is stranger than fiction and many of your most delightful ideas have come from chance observations and surprising interactions—the very reason you’d been thinking about the importance of compliments in the first place.

“I just think we should be more intentional about finding joy in each other. For example, what would you say, darling Kat,” you begin, batting your eyes at her sweetly, “if I told you that you look fucking incredible now and always, you’re so hot it gives me hives if I look at you straight on, and more specifically that little curl that’s coming out of your ponytail is particularly fetching and I like it a lot?”

She rolls her eyes, which is as good as a smile from Kat. “I would say you should slow down on the Shirleys.”

You wouldn’t say the two of you were friends, not really, but there was a familiarity and ease in the relationship now that warmed you. You’d met her your very first night while on your usual ramble to learn a new place, strolling until you make sense of its curves and corners and spirit.

The neighborhood you’d found an apartment in wasn’t the best, but it was furnished and month-to-month and good enough for you. Best of all, you’d only needed to wander in the late fall snow a couple blocks before you’d struck gold: drawn like a moth to a blinking neon sign and a door just opening, spilling warm light and the sounds of overlapping laughter into the night. 

Inside it really was a dive, all sticky floors and dollar bills pinned to the ceiling, a jukebox that took dimes and a blonde bombshell behind the counter who served with a decided lack of smile. But a week of you showing up and chattering at her had cracked that icy shell enough to get a name and a few raised eyebrows, instead of complete silence. By the time you’d earned your discount as a regular around the third week, she’d occasionally deign to comment on your more interesting trains of thought; offer some piercing observations of her own if she was in a good mood.

Fast-forward a month and change, and now you know her well enough to bring a second iced coffee when you breeze in for the evening, Kat pulling a bottle of Irish cream from the well as you pop off the lids in a dance thrilling in its routine.

Your coffee’s slowly melting beside you, abandoned in lieu of the syrupy-sweet mess Kat had waiting for you. She sips at the dregs of her own as she considers her verdict on your compliment, hip propped against the side of the bar.

“I don’t know if I’d particularly appreciate a stranger saying that to me. Don’t want strangers saying anything to me, really,” she frowns, “but particularly the bit about the hives.”

“I might have gone too hard out the gate with that one,” you admit. “But more importantly, I think you might be in the wrong profession for strangers not talking to you.”

She flips you the bird causally as she goes to greet the two regulars slipping into place at the end of the bar. It’s early in the night and still mostly empty; only a few singles and two-tops stopping for an after-shift drink, giving you and Kat plenty of time to talk. It’d get rowdy enough later on—the voices louder, the jukebox queue a little more violent—but you’d found among the chaos was when you were at your best.

“Hives aside, you know what I mean though, right?” you pick back up when Kat returns. “Like it feels so good to get and give a compliment and we should normalize doing it more often. Strangers reaching out across the great abyss for a moment of connection,” you say, leaning back and gesturing broadly. “Ships passing in the night with naught but a toot-toot of mutual appreciation.”

“I don’t think that’s how the shipping industry works.”

You wave this aside, already mentally on a sailboat somewhere sunny, tropical, salt-air in your face. “I always thought it’d be fun to be a sailor,” you say dreamily, propping your chin on your hand.  “Kerouac was a Merchant Marine, did you know?"

Kat makes a face. It’s upsetting how prettily she pouts.

“What, you didn’t like the book?” You’d loaned her a copy of The Dharma Bums the week before, slim and beloved enough that you carried it with you instead of borrowing a copy from the local library, like you usually did. You kept a collection of those library cards rattling around in an old Altoids tin—the only souvenirs you kept from all the various cities you’d visited in your travels.

“It was fine. Good, even, if you’re into that sort of thing,” Kat offered, swirling her coffee around. “He’s just so fucking mopey. I wanted to shake him, like c’mon man, you need to stop thinking about your life and actually fucking live it,” she finishes, as animated she ever gets. Which, admittedly, is only slightly more expressive than usual: eyes narrowed a touch further, three degrees more derision in her tone.

Kat prefers nonfiction. History. Facts. Still reads everything you recommend, but rarely finishes one without getting frustrated with protagonists making dumb decisions and whining about their life choices. And while some of the books she recommends to you are a little dry at times, they’re certainly illuminating—and the last one about organ harvesting was surprisingly catalytic for story ideas.

You shrug, acknowledging the point. She’s not wrong, but you live most of your life in your own words and your own worlds, so it doesn’t quite bother you in the same way. Although, now that she mentions it…

“You know, all of that is kind of to my earlier point. Giving someone a compliment is like the ultimate shortcut to living outside your head. You’re not all wrapped up in your own thoughts and issues, but appreciating the world and the people around you. Even if you don’t say it—which you should—it means you’re paying attention. Noticing.”

You drain the last of your Shirley, swapping it out for the coffee and swirling around the diluted ice. “Proposal: we make a game of it, tonight. We notice.” It wouldn’t be that different from what you and Kat normally did: share little observations about other patrons, trade theories on this person’s job or that person’s backstory. They’d just be a little more…intentional about it tonight.

"Keep your eye out for any interesting hats or weird pins or extremely sexy noses and come and tell me. That way we can both enjoy it,” you entreat her, clasping your hands together in anticipatory delight.

You know better than to suggest Kat actually compliment anyone. You’re optimistic, not delusional.     

“What constitutes an extremely sexy nose?” she asks, frowning at you beautifully.

“Oh Kat, some things can’t be taught,” you tell her with a pitying shake of the head.

She rolls her eyes and heads to the other end of the bar, greeting a nicely-dressed couple as they sink onto the cracked vinyl stools. Looking around like they might be feeling just a wee bit out of place. You catch the gaze of one of the women and smile. “I love your dress,” you tell her, and feel the joy of her answering blush bubble sweet and bright in your veins.

…

You pride yourself on having excellent ideas, but this is easily one of your best. You get a tremendous amount of writing done, unusually productive riding the high of giving out compliments left and right. Not so many that it feels insincere and never any you don’t mean, but Baader–Meinhof is a real sonofabitch because it’s true that the more you look the more you see to appreciate. 

Like Bobby, the union electrician who wears his name in blue, embroidered on the pocket of his work shirt. Not machine-stitched but hand-made, the careful stitches illuminated when he leans over to call out his order. His wife’s handiwork, he shares when you ask. “Paid special for her embroidery but still makes time to do all of my shirts. So I can carry her love around all day,” he tells you proudly, unabashed even when his friends rib him good-naturedly. 

After Bobby comes the lady whose leopard print nails match her furry coat, the one who winks at you when she catches you looking admiringly from across the bar. Then there’s the burly biker who sits down to share a themed photoshoot of their toy poodle when you compliment the photo on their lockscreen. Others in between, some you speak to, some you don’t—but all you appreciate in a way you vow to do more in the future.

Inevitably, little pieces of what you observe trickle onto the page, fleshing out bits of characters and sparking ideas you jot down in bursts of inspiration. You won’t know until later if you’ll end up keeping any of it, but you like the thought that that you’ll always have some part of this moment—the people, the place, the time—woven into your writing. A little souvenir in-and-of-itself.

Though the night gets progressively busier, Kat swings by from time to time to share her observations: money fished from strange locations, custom bank cards, funny pins she spies when customers lean close to shout their orders over the music—partially your fault, after you compliment an old geezer’s song choice and spend twenty minutes combing through the catalogue with him, cackling as you feed dime after dime and queue enough yacht rock to last a fair few hours.

All told, you’re feeling fucking incredible as synth solo from Toto’s “Rosanna” sends you wriggling in your seat. You’ve a few thousand words under your belt and the high off all those little moments of kinship is making you feel sparkling and happy and well, which, historically speaking, can sometimes be a challenge for you.

Not tonight, and you grin at Kat when she slumps next to you, enjoying a brief reprieve from new customers.

“Whatcha got for me, killer?” you ask her, fishing in your bag for a granola bar. She takes it with a grateful look, shoving half of it in her mouth and words mumbled as she chews.

“You’re gonna fucking love this. A mohawk, dude. In 2024.”

You perk up. It’s pretty packed now, but you can’t believe you missed a cut that attention-getting. “Liberty spikes?” you ask hopefully. You adored the punks of your acquaintance—always had interesting thoughts and insider tips on the local music scene.

Kat shakes her head. “Nah, it was short. Gym rat type, I think. Good tip, nice accent. Scottish,” she clarifies around the last of the granola bar. “Talked some shit about the ‘self-evident superiority of whisky over bourbon’ as he ordered a Maker’s for his friend.”

You hum, craning your head. “See where they sat?”

She shakes her head. “Asked about smoking though, so probably on the patio.”

Calling it a patio was generous—a small bit of grass with a couple white lawn chairs and an ashtray, mostly. But there was a heat-lamp that worked roughly sixty percent of the time, which made the bar very popular with those in the know on cold nights like this.

“Speaking of, ‘bout time to take your break?”

If it wasn’t too busy Frank, the bouncer, would watch the bar while you and Kat split a joint in the back, sitting in companionable silence and pointing out shooting stars and passing satellites—clear skies a benefit of the city’s frigid nights. Kat knew a startling amount about astronomy but absolutely zilch about astrology; could tell you the history of the universe up to the surface of last scattering but only blinked when you’d asked if she was a Capricorn or a Scorpio.

Kat pushes her bangs off her sweaty forehead and checks the clock, then whistles to get Frank’s attention. You shove your laptop into your bag but don’t bother with a coat—your cheeks are flushed from the warmth of the crowd and you don’t mind the cold, not really. 

The patio initially looks abandoned, silent but for the wet sound of car tires moving through the snow-choked alley. Not totally surprising; most balk at below-zero temps even with the lamp. Snow clumps heavy and wet on the plastic chairs and the overturned garbage pail that serves as a footrest, but the sky is clear—a thousand tiny pinpricks visible in the heavens.

You breathe in until the night air fills your lungs and you feel fresh and clean and cracked open wide, just pouring out love into the world.

Movement in your periphery catches your eye and oh, Kat was right, not a punk at all.

You’re not quite sure what to make of the two men standing half-shadowed near the lamp. Big is the first word that comes to mind and perhaps that’s sufficient for now, since you can’t seem to stop ogling the breadth of their shoulders and the curve of those mouthwatering thighs long enough to bother with anything else.

Kat had thought gym-rat but you’d put money on those muscles not being just for show—there’s too much strength, too much potential for carnage disguised in that plush softness that comes from power in repose.

“Why hullo there, barkeep,” the one with the shaggy, soft-looking mohawk greets Kat, his accent just as charming as promised. “And barkeep’s friend,” he nods warmly to you as you come close enough to get a good look at his face. To latch on to details like the too-blue shade of his eyes and the too-sharp canines in his smile, the silvery-white starburst of a scar across his stubbled chin.

“Christ you’re pretty,” you hear yourself say. This happens sometimes, your mouth just venturing off on its own to get you into trouble.

Kat groans overlap with the man’s chuckle. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” he purrs, propping the lit cigarette between his lips and sticking out a hand. His palm is broad and callused against your own as you properly introduce Kat and yourself.

“I’m Soap, this here’s Ghost,” he offers in turn, nodding towards his friend who steps forward, murmurs a quiet greeting. He’s enough in the light now to reveal dark eyes shadowed under a hood, skeleton gloves and a matching skull-print balaclava pushed up far enough to accommodate a lit cigarette.

“Fuck me, that’s cool as shit,” you grin goofily at him, immediately charmed by the weirdness of it all.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” the man says affably, his voice a rumble deep in his chest. He doesn’t smile but there’s a little twist of his mouth that could be amused, if you squint.

“Jesus Christ,” Kat’s eyes shut briefly in second-hand embarrassment. “She’s on a mission about compliments tonight. Noticing people,” she tells them with bemused emphasis as she clears off the chairs, kicks snow off the garbage can.

“I just think it’s important to be more open with our affection, even with strangers. Especially with strangers,” you argue, dropping into one of the seats.

You pull out the battered Altoids tin that holds your stash and a few pre-rolled joints.

“Will this bother you?” you ask the men, holding one up.

They shake their heads, amused.

“Good, because it’s my fucking bar,” Kat snorts, plucking it from your fingers and dropping into the chair next to you.

“What, you own this place?” you say, flabbergasted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kat holds the joint in her mouth and cups a hand around her lighter flame, coaxing it to life despite the wind. She takes a deep drag, tilting her head up before releasing a thick cloud of smoke into the air.

It looks wicked cool right up until she folds in half, coughing desperately on the tail end of the exhale. You can’t fucking blame her; you’d bought it off your teenage neighbor, a science prodigy who claimed to have developed the perfect strain. Ivy League, he called it, since it had paid for his entire college fund.

Kat straightens up, red face feigning composure as she passes you the joint. “You never asked,” she finally says, voice a little strained.

And that was just…well, fair, actually.

“Huh,” you say brilliantly, struggling not to cough on your own exhale and bidding adieu to any dreams of looking cool in front of all the fucking fashion models around you. “You know, I did wonder when you’d get in trouble with your boss about the free drinks thing. And the drinking on the job thing. And the this on the job thing,” you say, frowning as you contemplate the joint.

You offer it up to the men and Soap takes it, your hands brushing long enough to send a little frisson through your blood.

“You’ve known each other long, then?” he asks, taking a puff. Turning a vibrant shade of red as he heroically—and futilely—tries to hold in a cough.

“Oh, we go way back,” you say very sincerely. “I helped her bury the body of her ex-husband years ago, a mafioso named Jimmy the Janitor because he cleaned up, if you know what I mean.”

“I met you two months ago. And I’m a lesbian,” Kat contradicts blandly.

“I didn’t know that, either!” you exclaim, smacking her in the shoulder. “What the fuck, dude, I would have started flirting with you ages ago.”

“You’re not my type,” she says devastating, and Ghost snorts when you mime a dagger to the heart. The joint glows red between his full lips, crossed with scars that shine silvery in the moonlight and trail up beyond his mask. Exhales in one long, smooth breath and looks suitably smug about it, the fucker.

“I do seem to remember you saying something earlier about me being ‘so hot I give you hives.’” Kat reminds you. “You telling me that wasn’t flirting?”

“Nah, that’s just being neighborly,” you beam at her.

“I shudder to think what your flirting does look like.”

“That’s the appropriate response, honestly.”

Ghost barks out a laugh and you shoot him a cheeky wink before turning back to Kat. “Alright then killer, gimmie the goods. What is your type?” you prod, hooking your ankle around her own. “Is it a black cat, golden retriever thing? I can bark, babe, just say the word.”

Soap damn near chokes on his drink but Kat only sighs, more fond than exasperated. She takes the joint and leans in, bringing your faces only a few inches apart. You watch, riveted, as she brings it to her cherry-red lips and inhales deeply. Holds your gaze and leans ever so slightly closer, the moment stretching into eternity as she releases a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke directly into your face. You bring a hand to your mouth, think you might actually be drooling.

“MILFs,” she answers finally, devastatingly. She tucks the joint between your fingers before patting your hand and heading back inside—as good as a kiss on the mouth from anyone else.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap's voice is rough as the door closes behind her.  

“You’re telling me, pal,” you sink comically in your chair. “I think she broke me.” You’d already been drunk off the night’s joy but now you feel lightheaded with desire, literally dizzy with it.

This is not an uncommon response to Kat, you suppose. Nor, you expect, to the pretty lads that remain.

You summon your forces and sit back upright, kicking over the newly empty chair in offering. Ghost takes it, the plastic frame creaking under his bulk while Soap drops down on the garbage pail, resting his elbows on jean-clad knees. You pass around the rest of the joint in companionable silence, and it’s just…nice, all of it. The cold at your back and the heat of the lamp on your face, the fading alcohol buzz replaced by the sweeter, steadier high of the weed, always better at gentling your nerves and clearing your head. The easy camaraderie of smokers cast out into the cold, the same thing in almost every city and country you’d ever seen. You smile, thinking back on all those shared lighters and bummed cigarettes over the years. All those ships passing in the night.

“Gettin’ us a refill,” Soap finally says, standing up and snagging Ghost’s empty glass, hooking their pinkies together briefly in the action. You note it and immediately drop the thought, scalded. Know you will literally, actually combust if let your brain run-rabbit imagining the two of them together. All that muscle, all that strength, curved around each other, curved around you…

“What’ll it be, bonnie?” Soap’s warm voice snaps you out of your reverie and you flush, sure from his smirk that he can read the direction of your thoughts. You were legendarily bad at poker—couldn’t keep a neutral expression if they paid you to.

“Dealer’s choice, please and thank you,” you grin at him despite your embarrassment—turning down a free drink was against your moral code.  

He gives you that shark-like smile and Ghost tsks as he heads inside. “You’ll probably regret that, birdie. Johnny’s got atrocious taste.”

“Ah can fucking hear you, you Manc twat,” Soap calls from the door, a little extra Scottish in his snark. Ghost chuckles low, stretching his feet out into your space.

“It’s Manchester then, our kid?” you ask, kicking your foot playfully against his boot. Leaving it there when he lets you. “Whose your fighter then, Liam or Noel?”

He considers for a moment. “Liam. I like his spunk.”

“‘A man with a fork in a world of soup,’” you quote, nodding approvingly. “I get that.”

You toy with the Altoids tin, debate lighting up another one. Ghost fishes a pouch of rolling tobacco out of the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and holds it up questioningly.

“Clever boy,” you praise, and he leans forward to pass it to you, big hands dwarfing your own.

When he settles back in his chair, he tangles his feet with yours properly and you feel a little flutter low in your belly.

You prep the blunt in a practiced motion, balancing the tin on your knees as you sprinkle the peaty tobacco overtop the flower evenly. “I’ve always been more of a Blur than Oasis fella, myself,” you finally offer to distract from the weight of his gaze. “Damon Alburn, the man you are,” you murmur, putting a fervent hand to your heart.

“Oi, we talking about the Gorillaz then?” Soap calls out, juggling glasses as he kicks the door shut behind him, muffling the chatter from inside. “Fucking choon after choon, them,” he declares, dropping back onto the pail.

He passes Ghost a rocks glass filled with an inch of amber that matches his own, his eyes tracking where your tongue runs across the filter paper, wetting it. He trades you the finished smoke for a glass with something alarmingly orange in it, a pink plastic sword stuck with three cherries on top.

You sniff skeptically, all sweet and citrusy and strong. “This must be off-menu.”

“Dive bar innit, no menu to be off of,” Soap points out, and you smile at the familiar response.

You take a curious sip, looking up in surprise when you taste a bright splash of orange and vanilla across your tongue. “That’s fucking incredible,” you say, eyes wide. “What is it and why haven’t I been having it all night?”

Soap grins at you, looking suspiciously pleased with himself. “Had a feeling you were a lass that’d enjoy a slow, comfortable screw against the wall.”

Ghost groans, and you squint skeptically at Soap. “Who doesn’t, what’s that got to do with my drink?”

Soap laughs, delighted. “That’s the name of the drink, bonnie. A Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall,” he says with emphasis.

Ah. Well. That’s—oh, motherfucker. “Does Kat know that?” She’s probably laughing her ass off in there, the sadist.

“Oh, aye. She seemed amused. Though she made a fucking unnerving amount of eye contact while stabbing the wee cherries,” he says, eying the garnish. “Scariest fucking thing I’ve seen in a minute. Reminded me of a friend of ours, actually,” he says, giving Ghost a wry look as he takes a sip and sets the glass down.

He pulls out his own lighter to coax the blunt to life, a battered Bic with SOAP scrawled in thick, Sharpied letters. He lets out a pleased sigh as the opaque smoke curls through the cold air, then leans forward to rest his elbows back on his knees.

“Now, as for why you weren’t getting it slow, comfortable, or otherwise before now, I couldn’t say,” he tells you, blue eyes glinting with mischief. “But I think I speak for both of us when I say we’re more than happy to provide for the rest of the night. Isn’t that right L.T.?”  

“Right enough there, Johnny.” Ghost’s voice is closer to a growl, setting off a delightful curl of heat in your belly.

You nibble on your straw and pretend their attention isn’t going straight to your head, twice as good as the drink or the drugs. “You know what they say about variety and spice of life. Might get bored with just a screw against the wall. Got any thoughts on horizontal surfaces?” you tease, enjoying the way Ghost smirks around the blunt.

But oh, is that a dimple you suddenly see carving out of one scarred cheek? Before you’re even conscious of it you’re leaning in for a closer look, balancing with one hand on his thigh. “I adore your dimple,” you tell him sincerely, undoing any hope you had of appearing cool and hard-to-get. “It is very cute.” You give him a businesslike pat on the knee and start to pull away, but he catches you gently before you get too far.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he purrs, petting over the soft skin of your wrist with an adoring thumb. “We’ll keep you entertained, don’t you worry. Bored is the last thing you’ll be, right Johnny?” Ghost say. He squeezes gently once before letting go, settling back with a satisfied smile. You try to play your delighted shiver off as one of chill, but you suspect your violent blush isn’t selling it.

“Oh, I fuckin’ swear to it, L.T.,” Soap answers, winking at Ghost before unfolding his big bulk from the garbage can. “We’ll give you what need, bonnie, promise. Starting with this.” Then his arm is around your waist and you’re in the fucking air and—

Oh, that’s not so bad, actually.

Soap sinks into the lawn chair and settles you across his lap, surrounding you with delicious warmth and a scent like whisky and salt air. Your brain goes a bit soft and cottony for a moment and you latch on to the gentle pressure of his arms. Manhandling has always been a shortcut to your most devastated self, the kind of stupid and sweet and sated that you’ve only found once or twice through chemistry or luck or sheer fucking determination, and it bodes very well for the night to come.

Besides, for all he wears only a bomber jacket, the Scotsman is radiating heat like a furnace and it’s the perfect sensory foil to the plummeting temperatures, a few clouds coming to fleck the sky.

“Saw you shiver. Couldn’t let our girl be cold now can I?” Soap says, chucking you under the chin like a kid. Should be stupid but you fucking like it, can’t help but smile up at him. Can’t remember the last time someone treated you so sweet, like you were something to protect. To indulge.

Ghost’s eyes are fond on the pair of you, reaching out to trap Soap’s feet the same way he had yours a few moments before. One of his hands reaches to splay possessively over your thigh, resting it there and turning your insides liquid.

There’s no reason it should be as easy as it is, getting all wrapped up in each other as the night stretches on and the clouds continue to gather, chatting quietly and smoking through the rest of the blunt and finishing your drinks just as the first fat, fluffy flakes of snow begin to fall.

You watch, delighted, as the storm kicks up in a sudden flurry; a magical, glimmering coat that turns the world into one whole thing. Untouched and perfect and silent except for the tides of your breath and the slight hum of the heat lamp, small sounds within a vast, quiet night.

You sigh in Soap’s arms, totally and unexpectedly content, luxuriating in the way your blood hums in anticipation of the night’s inevitable conclusion.  

People asked if you got lonely, sometimes, traveling the way you did. Never staying anywhere for more than a few months, only occasionally breezing through past towns for a few loved-up reunions before the wind starts pressing at your back.  

And though it’s true you’ve been seeking a place of your own, a place where you could belong, this, too, means something. To have these beautiful, fleeting moments of connection with once-strangers, to lose yourself completely in the headiness of such quick intimacies, no less passionate or kind or devastating for their brief duration. All those countless moments of connection—romantic, sexual, platonic—coalescing into a kind of soft sweetness to hold on to long after you’ve forgotten a name or had a face grow fuzzy with memory.

All of that sweetness is swirling inside you as you nudge Soap’s chin with your head, drawing his attention from where he’d been conversing softly with Ghost, one hand petting absently at your waist.

“Take me home?” you ask softly, and his eyes melt at the question, his hand coming up to thumb a little desperately at your mouth.

“Oh, the Cap’n would love that,” Ghost drawls. “Fall arse-over-tits over a sweet thing like you walking through the door.”

“My home,” you clarify, though you’re not opposed—especially if their friend (captain?) is anything like them. “I live like four blocks that way,” you chuck a thumb vaguely over your shoulder.

“Well why didn’t you say so, bonnie’,” Soap says, standing up and dumping you on your feet. Before you can be too offended, he grabs your chin and presses his mouth against yours, searing hot and leaving you breathless when he pulls away too soon. You look up at him a little dazed and he pets his thumb across your chin, grinning. “Ghost is right. Too sweet for your own good, darlin’. T’wouldn’t be right for us to let you walk home alone, sweet thing like you. Not in a neighborhood like this.”

“Au contraire mon frère, I’m fast as shit,” you tell him, narrowing your eyes. This occasionally happened when you got crossfaded in particularly the right way, became possessed with the urge to tear off down a darkened street; drunk on the feeling of wind against your face and your heart hammering in your chest. Feeling like you could fucking fly. “No bad guy’s gonna catch me, no way.”

“That right, little rabbit?” Ghost moves as silent as his name, a sudden warmth at your back without you even noticing he’d left his chair. He curves that big body around you, nipping at the soft skin at your neck and caging you in against the firmness of Soap’s chest. “Gonna let us chase you?” he near growls.

The thought sends goosebumps rising along your arms. To be wanted, to be chased. To be caught.

Ghost groans when you lean back against him, tipping your head back to nip at his jaw in return. “Home. Now,” he commands lowly, pulling down his mask.

You can’t help your shit-eating grin as you tug them through the door and the thinning crowd to collect your long-abandoned things from the bar.

Kat eyes the three of you suspiciously. “If I find cum anywhere on that fucking patio I will have your balls in a bear trap,” she threatens.

“No promises,” you wink at her, laughing when she flips you the bird. You shrug on your coat and pick up your bag, which Ghost immediately appropriates, slinging it over one shoulder. He ignores your amused tug on the strap, looking over your head to plot the swiftest exit.

“Don’t wait up, babe!” you say, blowing a kiss to Kat as Ghost tows you and Soap toward the door.

“Call me if you need help burying the bodies,” Kat offers in response, and you cackle at the uncertain looks the late-night crowd shoots you both.

And then it’s just the three of you and the cold and the night, pressed together like you’re one body in the snow-crowned streets. 

Read part two

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER ONE: WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE

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SUMMARY ↳ A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other. A particle accelerator. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne wc: 2.1k

In every universe the Spider is a hero. Some go by different names, some can create their own organic webs, and some have their own cat burglar to wrestle with. One constant, for sure, is that they all are bitten by a spider. You are not the exception.

You were bit when you were 13, and for the last 5 years, you have been the “one and only” Spinnerette! It had been a rocky start, but things are looking okay now. You’ve got a family, a real, strong and fun family.

“You’ve been officially added to my hitlist, Tony, watch you’re motherfucking back.”

“Oh, goody. You might be the only person who hasn’t hired a sniper on me before.”

Loving family, of course.

There was an idea to put together a group of remarkable people to see if they could fight the battles humanity could not. It was called the “Avenger Initiative.” A billionaire, super soldier, scientist, Russian spy, master archer and a God walk into a Shawarma restaurant, wonder what it leads to. The Avengers currently all (mostly) live in the former Stark Tower.

You also currently live in the former Stark Tower. It’s a dream come true. Everyone is happy, everyone is healthy, and your relationships with each Avenger is thriving.

“When’s the last time you ate, kiddo?” asks Tony, stepping inside your personal lab he had gifted you for your 15th birthday. Your hands move deftly, fluid and familiar in fixing your web-shooters.

“A definitely normal time,” is your reply. “Hey, what did you do with the Iron Spider suit? I’ve been looking for it everywhere. I’m thinking about tweaking some of the web combinations.”

“It’s charging, where else would it be? Also, here.” He puts a bag of sandwiches from Delmar’s. You grin and reach out for it. “You know me so well.”

“I know you best,” he clicks, and reaches out to ruffle your hair, only because you let him. “Can you tell Nat I fixed her widow bites? And tell Sam I fixed that dent in his wings, too.” You take a bite of a sandwich. “I’m unna pakrol inna vit.”

He pinches your cheek. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgraceful.” Stay safe.

“[Name], it may be more efficient to patrol without music blasting in your ears,” says your ever so faithful AI, Karen.

You huff goodnaturedly. “ Ear , Karen. Singular. It’s never screwed me over before, I promise I am a responsible music listener.” The thwip of your webs shooting out has always been a comforting sound. It’s a reminder, of who you are, of what you stand for. All your accomplishments (failures too, but the pain is grounding.) “Also, please place an order for the new Batman comic, I forgot to do it earlier.”

“I find it contradicting how you say you are a casual enjoyer, yet own nearly every issue of any and all related Batman comics.”

“I don’t believe in consistency… or whatever Hobie would say.”

The discovery and confirmation of the multiverse was not as surprising as it should’ve been, but it was daunting all the same. You’ve never really been alone since your life at the Tower, but it was a whole new type of connection, finding out there were other Spiders, other you’s . Then, of course, there was that whole “Miles, you’re the original anomaly!” fiasco. Luckily, the situation ended up resolved, and there are (mostly) no hard feelings. You haven’t met another [Name] [L.Name] yet, but there are plenty of other Spider’s to learn from.

“Numerous suspicious activity reports have taken place downtown. I suggest checking it out.”

“You’re the boss, Karen.” You twist your body, changing your momentum and direction, heading downtown. You do flips and tricks, with all the grace of a ballerina. The nanotech is perfectly flexible enough for your dramatics. Tony had spontaneously made the suit for you, as the fabric of your old one didn’t provide as much armor as he needed for peace of mind.

“I am detecting a multiversal instability. Tread carefully.”

The eyes of your suit squint. “Get Miguel on this.”

It isn’t often a multiversal problem pops up in your universe. With people like Stephen Strange and Wanda Maximoff holding cosmic power in relation to interdimensional activity, and the Space Stone itself, your universe holds up well in defense to multiverse activity. But even so, space is unpredictable.

Miguel, despite all his grievances with you and the Peter Parker of Earth-199999, equipped you both with a Web-Watch (you and the other Spiderlings agreed Gizmo was lame). You don’t use it much unless it’s to go chill at the Spider HQ or visit the other ‘Lings in their universes. Whatever iota of guilt he felt after the whole Miles thing manifested itself as overprotectiveness, and he insists on dealing with all spatial related problems himself. You’ll indulge him, if only to bother him about the tech in his universe.

You’re met with a warehouse, abandoned, because of course it is. “No heat signature’s,” you mumble, the suit scanning for signs of life. You hop down through a hole in the roof silently, looking around. There’s random tech and machine parts scattered around, which is never a good sign. It’s easy to miss for the untrained eye, but you spot a hidden elevator mechanism and step inside it. If anything goes wrong, you trust your spider-sense to get you the hell out of dodge.

The way down is ominous, if not for the almost complete darkness, then for the red blinking lights. Your sense tingles, not sensing any immediate danger, but very uncomfortable down here.

d on’t feel good not safe for long leave quickly

Going en pointe (because going on your actual tippy toes to increase stealth is just way too good), you sneak carefully. Just because there are no living dangers doesn’t mean there are none at all. The room is as dark as the rest of the place, and while you can turn on night vision, it’s not as efficient in understanding what the hell you might be looking at.

“Karen, is there a light switch in here?” Your voice echoes in the large room.

“To your left, [Name].” Sure enough, there actually is a light switch that you find after groping the wall. “Huh,” you hum, pleasantly surprised. A flick of the switch activates the many overhead lights and reveals a daunting sight.

A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other.

A particle accelerator.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Ok- uh. Karen, contact Tony, and Bruce. Can you tell if it’s been active recently?”

“I am picking up a recent signal, yes. I theorize the recent earthquakes are because of test runs.”

Miles once told you his story. Finding the particle accelerator, his Spider-Man’s death. You remember placing a hand on his shoulder, and you remember him grasping it tightly. It was a complicated time in his life.

“How did he destroy it again…?” you murmur, looking around the machine. “A goober.. right. How did Peni make it, though?” Pulling up your wrist, you scan the machine. “Please contact Peni as well, K.”

Stilling your posture, you look up at the accelerator. You have no doubt nothing good will come from whoever is behind this. Those who try to manipulate powers greater than them always receive a rude awakening. Maybe, by the grace of some higher power, you can somehow rope the Space Stone into this. You know better than to think they don’t have some kind of sentience. Maybe you’re just getting ahead of yourself–

watch out! behind you!

When you turn around, there’s nothing behind you. You’re on high alert now. Your sense doesn’t make mistakes, so either a sniper is pointing his gun at you, or someone who can cloak themselves in around you, and neither of those are good. You breathe in, honing your senses, the situation is far too delicate for you to stumble.

“Show yourself,” you demand. “If you’re smart enough to build this then understand when I say I will find you.”

there! right there!

You turn and send a web to where your senses pointed. The person grunts, trapped in your solution. You pull them toward you. “Show yourself,” you repeat.

A sigh leaves the person's mouth. Then, slowly, their form reveals itself. It’s like Miles' ability to go invisible. Before you is someone your age, must be. And yet the way they carry themselves is reminiscent of somebody who has been through far too much for someone their age. So, basically every Spider you know.

Which is on brand apparently, because this person must be like you. There is no other possibility. The web patterns on their suit, the bug eyes of their mask, the invisibility thing.

“You’re…” you mutter.

“Like you,” they finish.

Your eyes narrow. “The hell are you doing, man? Surely a Spider knows this if some fuckshit,” you gesture to the massive machine. “What are you even doing here?”

Their suits eyes squint. “It’s a delicate matter.”

“Yeah. Obviously,” you roll your eyes. “Not like a bridge to different dimensions is any walk in the park.”

“It’s none of your business,” they huff.

“Hell yeah, it is. You’re me, basically. You’re building a particle accelerator in my universe. By the way, let’s talk about that. Why not just carry out your evil plans in your own home? Did Venom get you or something? We can like, do something about that. Probably–”

“Enough nonsense,” they spit.

“Oh, okay.”

The room lights up, and the particle accelerator whirls to life. The room shakes, no doubt another earthquake beginning to affect the city. A whirlwind of colors fill your vision. Your hand curls the cuff of their suit into your fist.

“What did you do.”

“I’m doing what I have to.”

It happens fast, far faster than your senses could have warned you. Your web restricting them snaps and their hands grab you.

“You’ll survive.” Their hands destroy your watch. “I’m not so cruel.”

And you’re thrown into the web of the universe.

Waking up in an unfamiliar environment has happened far more times than it should have. It’s instinct that pulls you up from the ground. Your body is sore, your head hurts, and the eyes of your suit are genuinely tweaking.

“Karen…” you groan.

“I am unable to connect to any Mr. Stark’s satellites. I detect multiple bruises all over your body, no broken bones. The suit is in functioning condition, 92% charge left.”

“Yeah, we are definitely not in New York anymore. My New York, anyway.” You look up. Your environment is gloomy, the skies are gray, and the buildings have seen better days.

“I’ve connected to the satellites I can detect that are currently in orbit.”

“I need out of this suit, K.” The nanites retract into your web-shooters, now disguised as regular bracelets. You pause and think. “Gimme some glasses, actually. I still need you.” A couple of nanites crawl up your body and form frames on your face. “I can always count on you, K.”

“I’ve created a route to a public library with computers for you.”

The walk to the library has you on edge. Your sense isn’t exactly reacting like it would when you’re in immediate danger, but it’s buzzing constantly. You sigh to yourself. There should’ve been a protocol made for this as soon as you found out about the multiverse. It would’ve definitely been called the “We’re Not In Kansas Anymore Protocol.”

“I’ll start making that protocol for you,” Karen says. You hadn’t realized you’d been talking outloud, sighing. “Thanks, K.”

People keep glancing at you when you walk by before ultimately minding their own business. You’re sure that you give them that uncanny valley feeling, even if you look like a regular human. Effects of being from another universe, you guess. 

Walking up the steps to the library, you think about your next move. You should worry about living your situation. You have no clue how long you’ll be here before someone finds you (or, god forbid, you build your own way back home). You know how to be sneaky and steal, hopefully it doesn’t have to come to that though. You look up, thinking, and pause when your eyes spot something.

Gotham City Public Library.

What. The. Fuck.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t be so surprising. Infinite universes, infinite possibilities, so on and so forth. It had never crossed your thoughts that the silly stories you like (read: obsess over) could be a real universe out there. You don’t like to think about it too hard.

“Karen. Where are we.”

“My map tells me we are currently located in Gotham City, New Jersey.” Big yikes.

“Okay. Change of plans. We are going anywhere but here. Let’s just make up a fake identity, first. And get a job. I deserve a couple of days to think.” No way in hell are you going anywhere near that library where goddamn Oracle works.

It’ll be best to avoid everyone all together.

notes: title is a lyric from "Saturn" by SZA.

[aestheticpearl]

— ‘you’ve got to press it on you.’

characters. dewdrop, rain, swiss, mountain, phantom

themes. SMUT

[warnings] smut, blood, biting, dacryphilia, size kink, corruption kink, light choking, mirror sex, spanking

[gender neutral reader]

ghoulettes

a/n: they’re ghouls, read at your own risk

➳ dewdrop

he def fucks with a PASSION

very accommodating

if you want to go slow, he’ll go slow

if you want it rough, he’ll be rough

he can be whatever you’d like, praise or degradation

‘oh yeah, that’s it baby— fuck you really know how to move, where’d you learn that hm? you fucking the other ghouls?’

POWER BOTTOM

i said what i said

dew loves to watch you ride him

and he loves to hold your hips to guide your movements

it’s definitely his favorite position

he doesn’t mind topping tho

this ghoul will mark you up until your neck is painted in your own blood

he’ll lick it up cause he love how sweet you taste

“such a pretty thing covered in your own blood and my cum, fuck you turn me on.”

you lay breathlessly on top of the ghoul as he pets your head. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, your mind fuzzy and fucked out.

“few more rounds yeah?” dewdrop states moving so he’s now on top of you.

he slips himself back inside you with little effort, using his own cum that’s on you as a lubricant.

you groan into your pillow at the stretch of him. no matter how many times you do it, it still burns in the best way possible.

“that’s it, you’re so good at taking my dick.” he says before leaning over to bite your shoulder.

➳ rain

he doesn’t fuck

he makes love

and he’s so good at it

gives the BEST head

he would stay between your legs for hours if you’d let him

shower sex

y’all are always fuckin in the shower or in some kind of water

oddly enough he’s not a fan of bath sex

the water splashes on the floor and you almost slipped because of it one time

shamelessly loud moans

he breathes heavily after he cums that’s so hot holy fuck

he’ll definitely thank you while cumming

‘thankyouthankyouthankyou— hgnnn i love you so much’

loves to make out with you while he’s inside you

he’s def cried after sex cause it felt so good but don’t tell anyone that

your lips are starting to go numb because of the heavy make out session between the both of you. it almost distracts you from the slow but skilled rolling of his hips into yours. almost.

“you feel so good around me, satan i love you so much.” rain says before moving back into the kiss and pinning you more up against the shower wall.

the water pours down both of your bodies and something about it just absolutely does it for rain.

“you look so amazing like this, soaking wet while i drill my cock into you.” he moans.

➳ swiss

kinky bastard

degradation king

but like his aftercare is amazing so it’s fine

corruption kink

fav position is doggy

loves shoving your face into a pillow while he plows you from behind

also likes to lean down and yank you up so he can hold your neck

has marked you everywhere

needs to let everyone know you’re his

‘you’re mine, don’t forget that’

almost bit a major artery in your leg

ALMOST

there was a lot of blood but it’s okay cause you didn’t die and it only turned him on more

he will try any angle that feels good

he MAKES you flexible

this bitch definitely growls

LOVES to make you watch how he disappears inside you

def has a mirror next to his bed

“look at how good i fuck you.” swiss grips your face and makes you turn to look at yourself in the mirror next to him bed. “look at how well your slutty hole takes me ahh fucking whore for my cock.”

you let out a pathetic whimper that makes swiss chuckle as he pushes your head back into the mattress.

“keep your eyes on me.” he whispers in your ear as he holds the back of your neck. he plants a swift smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it gently to soothe the sting.

“good play thing.”

➳ mountain

he knows his size

he also knows how to use it

OH LORD

he is so gentle tho

a little scared he’ll hurt you

he also can’t degrade you

he tried and HE ended up crying

loves how he towers over your body

can and will man handle you which means he will fuck you everywhere he can

the wall, the bathroom, the practice room

everywhere

loves the thrill of getting caught

‘shhh baby you don’t want us to get caught do you?’

he loves when you’re vocal, since he kinda just grunts and groans

mountain lifts your leg gently for better access and you can’t help but moan loudly before his hand covers your mouth and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“so loud, i’m starting to think you want someone to catch us pretty thing.”

your eyes squeeze shut as your body is hit with another wave of pleasure as you feel mountain’s free hand take yours to guide it down your chest and stop at your abdomen before pressing down.

“i’m right here, you feel that?”

➳ phantom

i love phantom i do but he’s younger and doesn’t have as much as experience as the other ghouls

that being said

he focuses a little too much on himself but

HE WHIMPERS

‘ah fuck’

he loves holding you close to him while thrusting into you

doesn’t pull out all the way, he kind of just jerks into you really fast

lil jackhammer

he learns how to make you feel good from your guidance

likes when you communicate how you feel during sex

he likes seeing you cry but only because it feels good

he doesn’t like hurting you

bites you but not hard enough to draw blood

he likes praising you

very possessive

phantom places gentle kisses over the fresh indent of his teeth on your neck while holding onto you for dear life.

“such a good little thing for me nghh so tight, all mine.”

you’ll admit he was going a little too fast for it to feel good on you end, that was until you adjusted your hips and he started hitting a certain spot that had your legs shaking.

phantom takes notice of this almost immediately.

“i hit your sweet spot didn’t i?”

“p-phantom i need to you slow down and keep that angle.” your eyes are practically rolling back into your head at this point as he listens to your instructions.

“fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

feral i’ve gone feral you guys

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[hehe-69]

Bonfire part 9

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

This song + Jacob x reader😩

Warnings: •LIL BIT OF WOLFPACK• •SUGGESTIVE MATERIAL• •SOFT JACOB• CURSING •CLIFF DIVING• •Awkward Swan Dad Charlie• •HINTS OF SUB JACOB BALCK•

YOURE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION

“No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft and sentimental”-Noah Kakan

Summary: After spending so much time with the Wolfpack. Jacob decides it’s time for the two of you to spend some one on one time together. (I got dragged into more Wolfpack moments, but don’t worry, the rest will be Jacob and reader.)

Tage List: @coldonez

—————————

After you all give up on beating Embry or Leah at Muggins. You move onto twister, and it’s a disaster.

———

While your waiting for Sam to find the mat for twisters. Embry asks Quill to throw him some nature valley bars from the kitchen.

“Shit thanks man.” Embry says as he catches one of the bars Quill throws him. But Quill just keeps throwing them. “Shit thanks man.” Embry repeats laughing as he catches another one.

The fifth one doesn’t make it to Embry, instead it hits you in the head. You were off to the side talking with Jacob as it hits you, Quill goes oh shit and starts laughing. You’re wheezing and Jacob is trying so hard not to laugh, asking if your okay because it hit you square in the face.

———

It’s Paul, Embry, Quill, and Jared in the mat. Couple of spins in Embry and Quill get caught in a comprising position.

Quill is bent over Embry’s back caging him in as they are both trying to stay on their colors. “Huh, I always thought Embry would be the top.” Jared teases, and as Paul has to move his right leg to green he horse kicks Jared in the gut “by accident.” And Jared tumbles over and loses.

“Karmas a bitch.” Paul says laughing to himself.

Paul and Embry end up tying, after it becomes apparent that both of them are surprisingly very flexible.

Shout out to @coldonez for this glorious idea

———

Next up is you, Seth and Jacob who you and Seth had to practically bully into playing. Jacob was adamant that he wasn’t flexible enough for this game. And he was right.

“Come on Jacob.” You say through a fit of laughter. “Blue is right there you almost got it.” Jacob is shaking laughing trying his hardest to reach the blue. Finally he stretches far enough to finally put his left hand on it.

And you and Seth can’t stop laughing. Jacob’s ass is in the air and he’s bent over across your body. And Seth is twisted in and awkward position with his face fight under Jacob’s ass. “Seth can see your past, present and future.” Paul laughs out. “Okay hurry up and spin so I can get out of this position.” Jacob’s face is beat red. And your wheezing so hard you end up falling down, and you lay there in a fetal position trying so hard to stop. Seth ends up following you as he is dying laughing.

Jacob ends up winning by shear luck alone.

———

Eventually you all have to move on to monopoly via Sam’s request, after a match of twister between Leah and Paul gets really heated. Those two are way to competitive to play a match one on one.

You don’t participate, you know what monopoly does to friendships…it rips them apart and eats them alive. But you do watch as pretty much everyone else plays except for you, Jacob, Quil, Seth and Emily.

“I’m suprised you aren��t playing Quil.” You say as he sits and watches the game. “Oh I learned the hard way that it’s much more enjoyable watching then playing.” Quil laughs. “They all slowly lose their shit trying to beat Sam. Embry just plays to stir the pot, and piss off Paul.”

“It’s pretty funny.” Jacob admits with a shy smile. You grin at him. “You’ve always been a sucker for drama.” You tease lightly and Jacob laughs but doesn’t even attempt to dyne it. Instead he pulls you close as you watch the chaos unfold.

———

“WHAT THE FUCK EMBRY YOU DONT EVEN NEED THAT HOUSE!” Paul shouts, Embry bought a house on the block Paul was working hard to own. “No I don’t.” Embry says grinning. “But you did, so I bought it before you could. It’s called strategic thinking.”

“NO ITS CALLED BEING A FUCKING BITCH!” Paul hisses out.

———

“Sam played monopoly a lot growing up.” Emily explains sitting next to you on a couch. “Him and his dad used to play every Sunday.”

“That explains why he’s so good at it.” You reply softly watching Paul crash out as Embry buys another shop on ‘his block’.

“Him and I play every once in a while, I’m starting to get closer to beating him everytime we do.” Emily admits laughing softly to herself. “Sam says it’s just because he’s getting rusty, but I think it’s cause he’s trying to let me win a little bit more each time.”

———

“GOD DAMN IT!” Leah growls, as she lands in jail for the 12th time. She started out in the lead but quickly lost it to Sam. You can see the steam coming off her body. “I HATE THIS FUCKING GAME!” Leah shout beofre flipping the bored and storming out.

“I told you she’d do it, pay up Jared.” Embry brags as Jared sighs sadly handing the slender boy a 20.

“Well if she didn’t I would’ve.” Paul hisses.

———

Leah comes back to gab Seth to go home. But she stops over by you and hugs you again. “We’re hear if you ever need to talk, or just want to hang out.” She tells you before letting you go.

“Thank you, both of you. I hope you know that the two of you can always reach out to me if you ever need anything, and I promise, I will be there.” You tell, her looking her in the eyes. And looking Seth in the eyes too. “We know, it’s kind of your thing.” Leah’s eyes shine with warmth. And Seth hugs you tightly before leaving with Leah.

“Careful.” Jacob comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, and putting his head on you left shoulder. “I think Leah might steal you from me if you keep talking to her like that.” Jacob says teasingly before pressing his lips to the edge of your jaw, right below your ear.

“We couldn’t have that now could we.” You say playfully before turning around and hugging him. “Thank you.” You whisper as you burrow yourself into Jacob’s warm embrace. “No need to thank me. Like I told you.” Jacob’s voice is soft and smooth. “Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You attempt to sound playful, but you’re tired and really just want to be with Jacob. Alone, so you can just rest beside him. “All I want right now is you.” You admit shyly.

“I’m all yours.” It’s all he says, before you and him say your goodbyes.

Paul reminds you that if you ever need him, he’ll be there ready to kick some ass.

Embry tells you that you’ll never have to be alone again if him and the pack have anything to say about it.

Quill says that he’ll make sure you never have to spend another year alone.

Emily makes sure you know that you’re always welcome at her house, even if it’s the middle of the night.

Jared awkwardly says that he may pick on you, but you’re like the an annoying little sibling her never knew he needed.

And lastly, Sam tells you that as far as he’s concerned, you’re part of his pack.

By the time your back in Jacob’s truck, you feel like crying all over again. “Hey.” Jacob says before taking a hold of your hand. “You’ve always been there for me, you saw me at my lowest…my most weak.” Jacob looks you in the eyes as he talks, and you can tell he’s trying not to cry. “And you still chose to love me, I’ll never forget that. I’ve loved you for years, and now that you and I are here. I’m never, ever going to let you be alone again. Your stuck with me, for a lifetime. And whatever comes next.” You smile and try your hardest not to cry.

“Never doubt how much I love you, I said I would show you the deep well of my devotion. And I meant it, you’re going to spend the night at my house. Charlie and my dad will be there, I’ve got everything you need for the night-“Jacob.” You say softly interrupting his rambling.

“I’m more then down. Now onwards lover boy, you owe me some cuddles.” Jacob chuckles and shakes his head. “I love you too, more than anything.” You say simply, too tired for a speech. But the simplicity of that statement doesn’t take away how much it means to Jacob. He looks at you, smilingly warmly and it’s like you matter more than anything else in the entire world.

———

“Hey there kiddo!” Charlie says cheerfully once he lays eyes on you. He gets up form his spot on the porch so he can give you, what can only described as, a good old fashioned dad hug. “I haven’t seen you in months. Tried calling you…well I guess yesterday now, but found out you weren’t home. How are you holding up?” If you couldn’t tell Charlie is definitely a little tipsy. He’s got that hint of beer to his usual smell. Billy and him have been sitting outside catching up and drinking a bit.

“I’m doing better.” You say honestly. “It’s good to see you Charlie, how have you been holding up?” You definitely know Charlie isn’t happy about Bella getting married. Charlie lets you go before speaking, putting his hands on his hips, his typical dad pose.

“Oh me? Well, I’m doing alright…just that my daughter is getting married at 18 to a boy she’s known for only two years.” Yikes. Charlie stares off for a couple of seconds, shaking his head as he still struggling to come terms with it all. “Well…if you ever need anything just give me a call. I know I’ve been busy, but you still like my own kid to me.” Charlie pats your shoulder awkwardly, in his Swanly way of trying to change the subject and offer you some comfort. “Thanks Charlie.” You say trying not to laugh at his awkwardness. “I really appreciate that.”

“Don’t mention it kido.” Charlie says smiling at you. “Well I guess I’ve kept you from Jacob long enough.” Charlie says before shaking Jacob’s hand. “If you hurt them I’ll hunt you down.” Charlie says seriously, staring Jacob down before patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t have too much fun you two.” Charlie says changing his tone to a more playful one before sitting back down on the porch next to Billy.

“Yeah, we’ll be watching.” Billy teases, glaring playfully before turning to Charlie and talking about fishing trips.

You look to Jacob who looks only a little scared of Charlie, and with a grin on your face you gab his hand and drag him inside the house.

———

Once your in the house, you and Jacob head to his room. Jacob gives you the same pair of pajamas pants and long sleeved shirt that you wore the first night you spent by his bedside. Except now they smell like him, and have been washed. “Did I leave these here?” You ask confused how he got them.

“Kind of…my dad snagged them to throw them in the laundry. But they weren’t done before you left.” Jacob says sheepishly. “I decided to keep them here, incase you ever had to stay the night again.” Jacob looks slightly embarrassed as he scratches the back of his neck.

“We also have an extra toothbrush here for you too.” You grin at this, he and his dad planned this all out just so you could spend the night here again. “You’re such a dork.” You tease playful, and Jacob straightens up and glares at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “You’re one to talk, besides, you love it.” Jacob says before attacking you with kisses and ticking your sides. You squirm trying to escape his grasp, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“RELEASE ME!” You mange to screech out between fits of laughter. “Okay, okay fine.” Jacob says, laughing himself. There’s a carefree grin on his face, and joy fills his eyes beofre he kisses your forehead.

“Now go get ready for bed before I change my mind.” Jacob teases and boops your nose, which scrunches up at the odd action. But you don’t say anything before darting out of the room.

Jacob stands there for a while, grinning to himself like an idiot alone in his room. He’s been so much happier and free these days, thanks to you. It’s like he’s that long haired teenage boy again, with no troubles or worries except for homework. Jacob likes who he is when he’s with you.

———

You and Jacob fall into a little routine the both of you discovered from when you stayed at his house the last time. It’s smooth and terribly domesticated, like you and him have been living together for years. On occasions where you happen to squeeze past him, he’ll poke your side or steal a quick peck to your cheek.

If you think this is too cheesy I’m sorry, I’m a sucker for cheesy romantic stuff

When you’re both ready for bed he insists that you sleep in his bed, and if there’s not enough room for the both of you he’ll take the couch. Due to size differences, you’re both able to make it work. The plus side is, both the bed and Jacob are extremely comfortable. Get that head out of the gutter, it’s not yet time for that

You both end up falling asleep, Jacob on his back with you laying half on-top of him and half on the bed. He has an arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your hand as it rest on his abdomen. It’s one of the best rests you have had in a while. Both because of the exhaustion of the day setting in, and due to the comfort Jacob brings you.

———

Billy wasn’t worried about the two of you doing anything crazy, he knew Jacob would keep his hands to himself. With Charlie also being at the house the two older men had nothing to worry about….for now😈

———

You’re suprised to find out that you’ve woken up before Jacob. He’s snoring softly, as you lay there for a while looking up at him admiring his features. He looks so peaceful, you’ll never get over how truly beautiful Jacob is. Before you start to feel like a creep for watching Quileute boy as he sleeps, you notice his hair is shaggier as if he’s growing it back out.

You take your time as you slowly and carefully detangle yourself from Jacob. By the time you have finally finished and as sitting in the edge of the bed, you realize it probably took you about 20 minutes. You sit there a bit, letting yourself fully wake up. Just as your about to get off the bed, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around you and pull you back down an onto the bed.

You laugh softly as Jacob mumbles grumpily and incoherently. All you catch is that he’s dead set on not letting you escape him. Smiling to yourself you turn around in his arms. Now facing him you manage to move a bit so that his face can borrow its self against your neck, slightly above your collarbone.

Neither of you say anything, you sit in silence with your hand running through his hair, and only the sound of each others breaths filling the air. Sometimes, real love is quiet and steady.

———

Both you and Jacob feel the heartbreak of how much energy you have both spent contorting, performing, earning, and chasing after scraps of love and approval.

Jacob was angry for so long, he didn’t understand why he was never enough for Bella Swan. Even when he begged her, she never chose him, never stayed. He was angry at the world, at what he’s become. You have spent so much of your life just wanting to be seen, heard, loved by your mother and others. Spending so much of your life being loved for your performance and capabilities, never being truly seen.

But here, together, in this silent, comforting room. Neither of you feel the need for any of that, and it doesn’t need to be spoken. You both can feel it, intertwined, sewn together, like a rock that bears the weather. Bound to one another, in every lifetime.

There is something so deeply freeing in being seen and known by someone you love so deeply.

———

It’s nice, just being around one another. No one else, no pack, no big group of friends or family. Just you and him. So Jacob decided that he’d start making time for just the two of you to be together.

———

“Are you sure about this.” You ask nervously, cliff diving looks fun. But when you’re standing at the edge getting ready to jump, staring down at the crashing waves…you’re not so sure about this idea.

“Don’t worry, I’ve gotcha.” Jacob says smiling brightly. “This was your request after all.”

“I know, it’s just…a little intimidating when you’re actually about to do it.” You say, not even looking at him as you stare down at the water in horror.

“Hey.” Jacob says softly before cupping your face in his hands. “Look at me.” He’s voice is calming and sweet, it convinces you to meet his gaze. “Everyone is a bit scared the first time, you’ll be okay. I’ll save you if you start to drown.” He teases gently and you glare at him. “Great, now I’m worried about that too.”

“I’ve got you, pinky promise.” You roll your eyes as he offers up his pinky to seal the deal. “Okay, but if I die I’m haunting your ass for life.” Jacob laughs softly at that. “You won’t die, not on my watch.”

———

“Okay…you can do this-” Jacob doesn’t get to finish. Because within a sudden burst of confidence, you jump off the cliff taking Jacob down with you. You can faintly hear him freaking out from shock, before you hit the water.

You can feel the laughter bubbling up from within you, but you try your hardest to hold it back as you swim up to breach the surface. You break through the water just in the nick of time, laughing and coughing breathlessly.

“Oh yeahhhh, real funny.” You hear Jacob say sarcasticly. “Oh I thought it was hilarious, especially when you screamed like a little girl.” You tease before laughing again, you begin to struggle with holding yourself above the surface. To the point where Jacob has to help you swim to shore through fits of laughter.

When you finally get to shore, you lay there for a couple minutes, giggling like a madman as you struggle to catch your breath. You can hear Jacob laughing with you after a while, like your joy brings him joy as well.

———

You both eventually make it back to the cliff side where Jacob’s truck is waiting. You’re wiped out, between the adrenaline wearing off and how much you’ve been laughing. Jacob seems unfazed by such things, though he looks happy and content in this moment.

“We should do this again sometime.” You say smiling tiredly at Jacob as the two of you sit in the bed of his truck. You’re both drying off with the towels he brought, Jacob is pretty much completely dry thanks to his overheated body. You’re still pretty damp.

“You say that now,” Jacob begins as he looks you in the eye with playfulness filling his. “But I seem to remember you losing your shit earlier.”

You grin at him bashfully. “Well you did scream like a little girl when we finally jumped-“Only because you threw yourself off the cliff taking me down with you!” Jacob defends himself and you laugh out at him. “Uh huh sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” You tease and yelp as Jacob pulls you into his lap, tickling you.

“Nonono! STOP STOP I YIELD I YIELD!” You screech out, and Jacob decides to show you some mercy. “Not so tuff now? Aren’t you?” Jacob says all smug and teasingly, smilingly big and bright.

You do the only thing you can do when Jacob Black is smiling at you, all teeth and crinkling eyes. You kiss him, as deeply and lovingly as you possibly can. And Jacob melts into the kiss, pulling you close as soon as you readjust yourself to straddle his hips.

You can’t help but smile into the kiss, there he was, all smug and prideful. Now look at him, he’s kisses you like your the very air he breathes and pulling you as close as physically possible by your hips.

Your hands are in his hair once again, it’s just too irresistible, knowing that it’s one of his weaknesses. You’ll exploit is over and over again, just to hear the breathless sighs and soft whines you can pull from his lips.

Jacob’s eyes are screwed shut as he kisses you, desperate for whatever you’re willing to give him. But he’s not pushing for anything more than heated kisses. Your body swells with pride as you give your hips an experimental roll against Jacob’s, and earn yourself a soft moan from him. It’s muffled against your lips, but you use the opportunity of his open mouth to sneak your tongue into the kiss.

You can feel Jacob’s shaky hands move to rub your thighs up and down as you continue to roll your hips. Your heart is racing at every sound Jacob makes, you nibble on his bottom lip and immediately Jacob opens his mouth to invite you in once more. The taste of him is intoxicating, you grip his hair at the nape of his neck and Jacob groans out at the feeling.

There’s not an ounce of the fatigue that once flowed through your body, as you pull back from the kiss just enough to look at Jacob’s face. He chase after you as he lets out a soft whine at the loss of your lips, before he’s breathing hard into your open mouth. And his eyes open half lidded filled with not lust, but love and admiration. “Too much?” He asks breathlessly, and his voice is deeper and husky. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” You whisper out as you stroke his cheeck bone. And Jacob grins, cheeks flushed and breath heavy.

Everytime you think you have discovered your favorite smile on Jacob’s face, he graces you with another that takes your breath away. “I love you.” You whisper out, and Jacob melts even more at those words. “I love you too..” Jacob trails off, his voice soft and gentle. “So much, more then I ever thought possible.” And he kisses you once more.

———

I hope you enjoyed this part. I decided to take my time with it. If y’all want I can continue the ending a bit in the beginning of part 9. Man I can’t BELIVE I’ve written 9 already.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this. I’m trying to be careful about not over sexualizing both the reader and Jacob. And I hope the ending didn’t go too far.

I’m having a lot of fun giving sweet Jacob the attention he deserves. Because he is one of my top favorite characters. The books really did him dirty.

Im also sorry for any misspellings or bad grammar, I cannot spell to save my life. Thanks for putting up with my bad writing.

As always, feel free to request whatever you’d like to see in future parts.

There will be a part just labeled smut, so you can skip if without missing plot. It will be a bit later on in the story, after Bella changes into a Vampire also Jacob and Reader will be aged up to 18 as they are going into thier senior year of high school

Love ya🫶

Thanks again for reading

Part 10

[claypigeonpottery]

What's the process like for slab building mugs? I've only done them on the wheel before and i was wondering how hard it is to get a smooth rotational symmetry when you don't have the wheel helping you

they’re pretty straightforward, but they definitely take practice. and I think an aspect of slab building (and hand building in general) is that it’s not going to be perfect. I had to learn to accept that and to love it for what it is

I use two tools to get my slab-built mugs nice and round:

1. a turntable/banding wheel. spinning it as I’m refining the shape helps keep it round, just like wheel-thrown pottery

and

2. The Cone

The Cone can be any cylinder that’s narrower at the bottom at wider at the top, and the right size to fit in your mug. just press it in and shape the rim to it, don’t leave it in the mug as the clay shrinks

but here’s the whole slab-building process!

under the cut

1. roll out clay.

this time I cut it straight from the bag so it’s air-bubble free, but otherwise it should be wedged first. I use a rolling pin with measured rings on the ends so I can easily roll it out 1/4” thick

2. I used to use a cardboard template and a pin tool for this (you can find the templates online and print them, or you can cut up a disposable cardboard cup to make a template)

but I upgraded to cutters a little while ago and I love them.

remember also to cut out a circle for the bottom of the mug.

3. smooth

4. let sit for a couple hours, or put it in front of a fan for awhile, so it’s not too floppy to work with. it should be flexible, workable, but not floppy. it shouldn’t crack if bent but it should stand up on its own once you’ve got it in a circular shape

5. I usually make a handle right before starting to build the mug, so it’s firm enough to work with by the time I’m done with the cylinder part of the mug. I prefer handle-making tools, rather than pulling them by hand

6. cut the mug edges at a 45 degree angle. you can eyeball it or use a tool. remember to flip the slab before cutting the other side, so they line up lol. I only made that mistake once.

I used to not do this step but my seams are a lot cleaner now.

7. score and slip, then join. once I’ve blended the two sides together a bit with my fingers, I like to use a soft rubber rib to smooth out the seam on the inside and outside, adding extra slip to fill any little gaps. it’ll be ugly at first, just keep refining it!

8. score and slip to attach the bottom piece to the cylinder. I add extra slip around the inside of the mug where the bottom attaches, and once I’ve flipped the mug back over, I smooth the extra slip along the seam on the inside with a brush or sponge, to help fill any gaps and attach everything nicely

9. here I usually use The Cone. the rim is going to warp again as I add my handle, so I’ll use the cone again later. it’s just helpful to have the rim round before adding a handle

10. attach handle. I like to attach them over the seam so as to leave the rest of the mug as smooth as possible for decorating

11. use The Cone again, refine the rim, cover mug with plastic and leave until leather hard

12. trim it, clean it up, etc (here’s one I prepared earlier!)

and here’s your mug!

[julymusings]

Dick Grayson x South Asian!Reader HCs

requested | reader is fem; like with Jason's hc post, I tried to keep it non-specific to any country, hope i achieved that😬

also it's barely mentioned but as a special treat: reader is trained in Indian classical dance😏😏😏

batboys x south asian!reader masterlist

He loves watching Bollywood movies, but gets especially into the music…like really into it

This man becomes OBSESSED with Shreya Goshal; you come early one night to find him singing along to both parts of the duet Manwa Laage from Happy New Year while doing the dishes (which, if you don't know, is a very high-pitched song). He's so off-key but so into it you don't have the heart to tell him that your neighbors texted you to ask if a feral cat got loose in your apartment💀

Then it escalates— he tries to learn Hrithik Roshan’s dance from Dhoom Again (which has nothing to do with the fact that you told him Hrithik Roshan was your childhood crush)

(if ur not desi, it starts at timestamp 0:38 I highly recommend watching it for full context it's incredible— if you are then I know you already know what i'm talking about LMAOO)

And since you're a dancer you learn it with him but he’s genuinely upset that it’s so easy for you but so hard for him

"I should be getting this! Do you know how bendy my body is?!"

For some reason I feel like he would love the strong female lead-type movies (probably because he’s so eldest daughter coded) so movies like Queen, Dangal, Chak De India, that’s his jam, but he loves Kal Ho Naa Ho when he needs a good cry

If you’ve ever seen those tiktoks of families who dress up their dogs and cats in traditional wear…you’re doing that with Haley 100%

I think Dick is familiar with hair oiling because of his Romani background, but doesn’t start doing it until you guys are dating because you do it regularly so he just starts joining you

OR he does do it, but…badly. with one of those over-priced chemical-filled Sephora brands, and he doesn’t even apply it correctly. The first time you see him do it you’re legitimately offended. You spend the entire afternoon teaching him the right way, first taking him to the Indian market (they’re in new jersey so you know there’s plenty💀) and collecting all the ingredients and explaining the benefit of each one, then going back to his place and showing him how to properly toast the herbs and spices and then warm the oil with them, how to massage it all throughout his scalp and find all the pressure points.

He’s sooo attentive and genuinely interested, plus he just loves how passionate you are about this

He loves pani puri (obviously, he’s dick and they’re balls WHO SAID THAT)

But seriously, you make them and he’s just throwing them back non stop

He calls you rani (queen), meri jaan (my love), pyaari (cutie I think)

Dick learns how to drape your sari for you— he knows where all the pins go, where to make the folds and where to tuck in the fabric. He loves how happy it makes you and how you twirl in the mirror when he’s done. Once your relationship gets more serious, he loves to buy you new ones until you have all different styles for every occasion

He loves when you wear payals. You wear them once for an event, and he encourages you to wear them around the house because the sound they make when you walk is just so pretty

Another reason why he LOVES watching you dance. The ghungroos you wear make it all the more mesmerizing

Given how flexible he is from his acrobat training, he’s great at yoga. Much better than you, and you often require his help to get the positions right. He doesn’t mind, though, as long as it means he gets to have his hands on you as he guides your body into the correct stance

Of course he’s learning your language so he can communicate with your relatives. That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though

Most teaching sessions end with tears and/or yelling

“WHY ARE THERE SO MANY POSSESSIVE PRONOUNS??? WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE SPECIFIC SCENARIO FOR EACH ONE????”

“I DON’T KNOW DICK THERE JUST ARE”

In the least foot fetish-y way possible, he thinks the tradition of wearing toe rings is so attractive. When you tell him that only married women wear them, he considers proposing just for that reason (I mean he already has the ring, so what’s he waiting for?)

Speaking of marriage (😏), he’s so excited for you to get his name hidden somewhere in your mehendi/henna. When you’re getting it done, he keeps trying to peek into the room to see if he can spot it until the artist gets fed up and locks him out😭

On your wedding night the first thing he does when you get a moment alone is start searching for it

You told him about the tradition of stealing the groom's shoes beforehand. You did not, however, tell him about the bargaining portion of the tradition

So when he and his siblings are "looking" for them (come on now, they're world class detectives, but they don't want to ruin the fun) and ultimately "give up" like "okay! you got me! where are they!" and your family starts talking about a 5-figure ransom to see them again...

He's going insane trying to tell them that his father is the billionaire, not him, but your relatives could not care less. And the whole time he knows exactly where they are but he doesn't want to be that person and make all your relatives hate him😭

He manages to coax them down to 4-figures

He wanted 3, but after your youngest cousin read him to filth ("Oh the trust fund nepo-baby can't spare some change? Is this the kind of husband you are? Is this how you plan to support your wife?"), he had no choice

You KNOW he’s doing a dance number at the reception. Bonus points if it's the Dhoom Again dance

And of course he wants you two to do a number together. When he tells you as much, he thinks it'll be fun and silly and a way to spend time together— he's wrong.

Like a true Indian classical dance teacher, you are a DRILL SERGEANT. He gets transported back to his old Robin-training days, except Bruce is 8 inches shorter and wears 5 pounds of bells around his ankles. It's worth it for the end result, though.

You obviously eat him UP but he does a very good job

Which number? I'm SO glad you asked........

It's Kala Chashma

ok this really got away from me but i loved writing it. as for kala chashma i just thought it was funny😭but if you have any other songs you think would fit i would LOVE to hear

[mxauthor]

Creativity

Summary: Y/n is a photographer and Spencer is a great model.

Word Count: 1,135

Warnings: fluff, kisses, probably false statistics, giggly spence at the end.

November 4th. 

That was the deadline of when Y/n’s assignment was due. 

That date was one week away and she had no idea what the hell she was going to do. The whole class was given three weeks to complete the assignment and Y/n was running out of time. 

She’s an aspiring photographer.

Several of her works have been published in magazines and have won many contests. She even has a website dedicated to her photos as well as other young photographers wanting to pursue their passions. 

However, most of her clients don’t want an amatrue to take any of their photos, hence the course. Even though her boyfriend, Spence, has rattled off statics about not needing classes to become a photographer; it still made her feel better: more official

But now, her photography course is requiring her to submit new artwork instead of some of her old pieces. The professor said he ‘wanted to put their learning to use and catch something they’ve never thought of before.’ 

Y/n hated it. She was hitting deadend after deadend. Everything she’s shot is within her comfort zone, not new. 

With a loud groan Y/n threw her head back on the couch she was perched on. Spencer only rounded the end the moment she was looking up at their light tan ceiling. 

“Still can’t find anything?” Spencer asked. His tone knowing the answer, but wanting to be caring still. 

“Not a thing.” Y/n replied, enunciating every word in the sentence. Spencer looked at her with a sympathetic look. Knowing the frustration not being able to achieve something. 

He thought about the requirements of the assignment, having told him once she first got it. Spence wanted to help, he really did, but it was the first time he’s drawn a blank. 

“I have no clue what to do. All the photos I’ve taken are like the ones I’ve taken before.” Y/n raised her head and looked at her boyfriend of a year. “Nothing new, nothing that’s caught my eye.” 

“You know statically, most photographers set up their master photos. All of them have been staged and made to look candid. A lot of the photographs that I’ve studied since you’ve started your classes I’ve noticed that a lot of the items seemed to be perfectly placed. Just like it was made to be a photoshoot of some sort. While a lot of your works are within the moment, scenery or candid of people.” Spencer rambled. Y/n watched him intently as he talked, never liking to cut him off once he started, “So I believe that your professor is asking you to do something of the sort, to make a piece that you have to stage. I would suggest using someone that you are comfortable with, which will trigger a higher dopamine output as well as a higher serotonin that allows cognitive flexibility and an increase in mood.” 

Y/n looked at Spence. A sparkle within her eye that Spencer knew to be trouble. 

“Comfortable, staged and someone I know.” Y/n summarized, Spencer nodded along enthusiastically, always touched when someone listened to him all the way through. 

“Yep.” 

“Well then, pretty boy, I just found my client.” Y/n said, her eyes sparking with, what Spence can only describe as creativity. And lust. 

The nickname alone should’ve told him that he wasn’t going to like this idea nor was he going to be the most comfortable with it. However, when Y/n had jumped up from her seat and started to set up her equipment with a huge smile on her face, Spence couldn’t really say no. 

Y/n had placed one of their kitchen chairs in the living room (after she moved everything out of the way). Claiming that it was perfect. Her lights and camera were setup to where he supposed was his place in all of this. 

He watched with a little nervousness as he stood in a white button down and some black pants. He was demanded asked to change from his comfortable warm pajamas, into this more serious ‘photo worthy’ outfit. 

“Okay now, I need you to sit in the chair and I’ll be right back.” Y/n commanded, her voice left no place to argue.

So Spencer sat down. Patting his legs while he waited for the final piece of this photoshoot.

About 2 minutes had gone by before Y/n walked out, red lipstick painted on her lips. As well as a tub in her hand. If he looked close enough, he could see kiss marks on her hands, some more faint and one very vibrant. 

Spencer studied the way Y/n walked up to him. Almost like she was trying to seduce in a way. As she got closer, Spence could see a smirk playing on her lips. 

“What are you-” Before the genius could actually ask his question, Y/n had kissed him. 

His brain short circuited. His IQ is now at 60. 

It took a second before he kissed back, before it could get more heated Y/n pulled back. She studied the lipstick print on her boyfriend, liking how well it was placed. 

Spencer’s face had flushed, he stared at her surprised, trying to understand what’s happening. 

Before he could ask Y/n started talking, “The assignment is to do something new. To try and incorporate all of the lessons we’ve learned up into now. As you’ve said all of my past works were either scenery or candid photos. Something that has just happened or there for anyone to see. What I’m doing here is different. This is a photoshoot, not candid. You are normally sophisticated and well cleaned, however at this moment your unshaven and floppy hair. As well as dressed in something more date-casual.” 

Spencer tried computing everything that was said, only to realize what she meant. His flush grew a little as Y/n looked at him for a silent ask, him nodding his answer. 

She started to unbutton the top four buttons of his shirt. Spence started to grow even redder as Y/n started to kiss all over his neck, face and chest. 

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, all this attention and kisses making him hot.

But one thing is that he couldn’t stop smiling. Neither of them could. Y/n’s kisses varied in shape and size, trying hard to control the smiles on her face. Spencer giggled and flushed until she stopped. 

Y/n looked at the lipstick marks with a proud smile and a flush of her own. Giddy to take the pictures. 

“Okay hold still.” Y/n commanded, trying to capture him flush and giddy. 

Trying to catch her Spencer, the goof ball that’s in love with her, in a living memory.

[silv3rswirls]

Their s/o struggles with anxiety

Requests are open!

Note: So sorry this is late anon! I took a little break from requests. Thank you for requesting though! I hope you like it 💕

Anon asks: Hi lovely here to keep ya busy. How about a reaction with dearest Stray Kids in which they spot signs of anxiety on their s/o and help em out...

♡Chan♡

He’s observant, his eyes are always on you when out in public. He knows how hard social settings can be for you especially when they’re overcrowded and hectic as the one you were currently at was. He’s become so good at reading you, comforting you, knowing when you’ve reached your limit. He’ll slip away somewhere quiet with you; let you calm down, do breathing exercises, get you whatever you need, etc. He always knows what to say to make you feel even just a little better.

♡Minho♡

He always holds your hand whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed. He squeezes it and runs his thumb over your knuckles, telling you to just focus on breathing. He’ll pull you aside and give you a gentle pep talk if you’re feeling upset about it. He’s the kind of giving you security when your feeling like this, going along for the ride as you learn how to cope with your anxiety.

♡Changbin♡

You found going out in public to be overwhelming most of the time. It’s always easy for you to get overstimulated, and Changbin has grown to know when you are. He doesn’t mind if you need to put headphones on or something to help you get through things. He’s flexible, offering to go somewhere quieter or less crowded if he feels like the function will be too much. He helps you resettle and adjust when needed and is always by your side as long as you want him to be.

♡Hyunjin♡

When you turned to him and nervously admitted you felt like throwing up, Hyunjin nearly had a heart attack. He had no clue your anxiety over what was happening was that great, but got up with you immediately. He waits in the doorway worried and ready to comfort you when you step out to try and recollect yourself. He combs his fingers through your hair, gets you something for your stomach, and assures you it’s okay and it’s fine with taking you home to rest.

♡Jisung♡

When you’re feeling down and overwhelmed with emotions, Han doesn’t mind staying home to be with you. He’ll stay in bed with you all morning, letting you rest or cry or vent to him. He gets you whatever you want; warm drinks, comfort food, extra blankets, etc. He understands feeling this way and wants to take care of you like you do for him.

♡Felix♡

Chest and stomach pains were nothing new. You were always telling him in stressful or anxiety inducing situations how your chest would tighten and hurt, or your stomach would turn to the point of pain. He listens and pays great mind to your social cues, and doesn’t mind cutting anything short of you’re in discomfort. He holds your hand, draws shapes on your skin, and lets you curl up with him.

♡Seungmin♡

It took him a bit to notice how bad your nail biting and skin picking was, but when he does he offers to help you try to break the anxious habit. He tries all the usual tracks with you; lemon juice or bitter tasting nail polish, helping file your nails down short, bandaids, etc. it makes him sad when he notices you’ve picked around your nails until they’ve bleed. He helps take care of them and stop you when it happens. If you're insecure over how torn up they get, he assures you there’s nothing wrong with it.

♡Jeongin♡

When you can’t settle your mind down to go to sleep he’ll gladly stay up with you. He’ll lay there and do nothing, or get up and do something with you if you want. He could talk calmly with you or just sit in comfortable silence; whatever you need. He’ll listen to whatever worries are keeping you up and try to talk through them with you. He’ll try things like tea or exercising that are supposed to help you sleep. He’ll cuddle with you, let you vent, anything you wanted.

[what-even-is-thiss]

If you’re trying to get yourself out of the purity culture mindset of even touching or thinking about “bad” things corrupts people and you’re still Christian or at least still believe in God in some capacity my advice to you is to remind yourself that

A) God is not your judgemental aunt. They see everything and therefore probably have a pretty good understanding of things like harm reduction and how the human brain works considering They invented it. Yours and other people’s involuntary thoughts and coping mechanisms aren’t the enemy winning they’re part of being human and if anything knowing the thoughts you have shouldn’t be acted on is a good sign about your personal character.

B) Certain things you’ve been taught are harmful either aren’t harmful or aren’t as harmful if precautions are taken. Premarital sex is the classic example. Traditionally abstinence was the only reliable way to prevent STIs and unwanted pregnancies but we’ve got the technology now to reduce the chance of that stuff significantly. Besides, if you like it and are being careful and respecting your partners it’s very likely no harm at all will come of it. If you cause no harm on purpose, that’s not a sin. That’s just using what He gave you to have a good time. And even if it was a sin His whole deal is forgiveness. This doesn’t just apply to sex either. Watching media that depicts “immoral” acts, doing drugs, and many other things can be done safely or at least have their impact minimized. Follow your best judgement on these things and when appropriate try to guide people around you to reduce harm in their own lives as well, but don’t try to dictate for them what right and wrong is in their own lives.

C) God basically is the entire universe. They can’t be harmed or destroyed by human action. The universe isn’t a tug of war between God and evil. God made the rope. You or anyone else making mistakes, having a difficult time forgiving someone, sinning, having weird or nasty thoughts from time to time, or doing or making something that blurs the lines between morality or immorality can’t hurt God or the universe. She’s too big for that. And forgiveness and mercy are kind of Her whole thing. One mistake or even many isn’t an earth shattering event. You’ll be okay.

Basically what you need to remember when trying to train yourself out of this mindset of purity culture and never doing anything bad ever is that you need to work to make your default assumption that you’re trying your best, so is everyone else, and judging whether or not something is actually harmful isn’t always a clear cut and easy thing. God understands nuance. They gave us humor as a gift to cope with the struggles of the world. Learning a bit of flexibility with yourself and others isn’t always easy, but you can do it. Rethink your knee jerk reactions. Pray about it if that helps you, and most importantly be kind with yourself and others who are on this same journey. It takes time to unlearn some harmful attitudes you may have been taught. And that’s okay. You’re doing fine.

[8figurehustler]

Where & How I Finally Started Getting Paid With Affiliate Programs | 💰💰💰

The Harsh Truth About Affiliate Programs (And What Actually Worked for Me)

Let’s be real—not all affiliate programs are worth your time, especially if you’re just starting out. I tried a few, and let me tell you straight up: some of them SUCKED.

The Flops:

1. Digistore24

Absolutely not. From faulty links, unreliable dashboards, to emails that wouldn’t stop even after deleting my account, Digistore24 was a complete waste of time for me. I’m not even going into details—it’s just that bad.

2. Amazon Associates

Trash. The only way you’re making even $100/month is if you have a blog on your own domain, 100+ affiliate links, and consistent traffic. And even then? That payout takes forever to build up—and don’t forget the payout fees and percentages they take. Imagine earning 50 cents and having to pay a fee just to cash it out. No, thanks.

Better Option: The Amazon Storefront

If you’ve got a face-based brand on TikTok, YouTube, or Twitter, consider applying for an Amazon Storefront instead. It’s more creator-focused, but they’re picky.

What Actually Worked:

3. Small Brand Collaborations

When I was starting out, I personally emailed a bunch of small fashion and beauty brands. Most of them didn’t even have an affiliate program—but because I reached out, they created one with me or offered me a custom collab.

Why it worked:

• I had a solid email pitch highlighting my strengths and how it would benefit them

• Small brands are more likely to say yes

• They’re open to flexible deals

• It’s mutually beneficial if you grow together

• Just don’t overcharge—be realistic. These are small businesses, not Nike.

The Game Changer:

4. ShareASale

This is where the real affiliate income started for me. ShareASale is a marketplace—meaning it’s not just one business, but hundreds. You sign up once and can apply to merchants in your niche (fashion, beauty, finance—you name it).

What I love about it:

• No need for a huge following—you can have a Tumblr, Pinterest, or Insta

• Most merchants approve you easily

• You can earn flat rates or commission

• It’s now partnering with Awin (even more brands!)

• You’re not locked into one niche—you can explore multiple

If you’re a beginner and want to see actual results, start with ShareASale. Take note that AWIN has owned ShareASale since 2017 and from the end of 2025 onwards, ShareASale will be completely renewed through AWIN, so if you’re signing up for the first time, I suggest starting now with a profile on AWIN so you won’t need to worry about the transfer unless you’re just looking to explore and don’t plan on doing affiliation long term.

Bonus Tip: Pinterest = Goldmine

Pinterest has become my go-to platform. If you’re serious about building traffic without showing your face, Pinterest is perfect. I created an eBook, the M3, that teaches you how to get 1 million monthly views in under 6 months (yes, it’s possible, if i did it you can too)

I’ve already helped over 20 people, and I’m proud of it. If you’re new to Pinterest or trying to scale your account, the M3 is your guide.

If you’re already doing well on Pinterest but don’t know how to monetise it, download my new ebook Pin to Profit which teaches you how to analyse, learn more on SEO & more.

all links down below

⸻

If you’ve tried the affiliate game and you’re tired of the fluff, I hope this helped clear the air. This is real talk from someone who’s been through it, earned the cents, and finally found what works.

Sign Up Now For Free On ShareASale(AWIN): click here

New to Pinterest & looking to grow your audience : click here

Don’t know how to monetise your Pinterest : click here