#stillness has salt reserves

[stillness-in-green]

Anon1, get back to me when we find out where on earth Spinner is after all those portals got opened up, but know that in my heart of hearts, the answer is:

Anon2, same deal. I will be leaping to theorize more about Spinaraki and its importance to the endgame just as soon as we know Spinner's current whereabouts, as I think that will tell us a lot about Horikoshi's intentions for him from here on out.

If he, unaccountably, got left behind at the hospital, I think we can fairly assume he's down for the count, and we probably won't be seeing him again until the fight is over.

On the other hand, if Kurogiri rescued him from the hospital (and I certainly can't think of any satisfying reason why he wouldn't have), then I have got a full armload of theories ready to go about the thematic weight of Shigaraki's first use of the All For One quirk and the importance of Shigaraki cradling Spinner in his lap to mirror the reverse in Deika and so on.

Sorry for the vagaries on both answers. I just need Horikoshi to give me oooooone more line on all this. Ideally, it will be letting Shigaraki demonstrate reciprocal friendship and valuing of Spinner's presence in his life, rather than all the references to them bonding over games coming from Spinner's perspective only.

I feel pretty safe betting on the value of friendship in a Shonen Jump comic, but we'll see. Thanks for the asks, both of you! Stay tuned!

[caffeinewitchcraft]

You are a Blacksmith

Set in the universe where your destiny is written on your arm

(The Hero and Hope) (Being Villagers) (You are the Demon King)

You are a Blacksmith.

That’s why the dragon’s fire doesn’t burn you.

“Pretty sure dragon fire is hotter than a forge,” your party’s leader pants. Kent is a veteran adventurer of twenty years to your two years and he’s seen his fair share of dragon fire before today. There are curling scars dragging the corner of his mouth down into a permanent scowl that pairs oddly with how high he has his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. He exhales noisily. “I think you’re just a freak, actually.”

“Not nice,” Sella says. The archer is your age with twice your experience. Her leather armor is well-beaten by four years running around with Kent and getting far closer to battle than an archer should. Her red hair is tied with golden thread that matches the golden charms dangling from her necklace. She adds a new one with every successful monster kill. It’s lucky she’s so stealthy or else she’d be jingling with every step. “Mande is an exception, not a freak.”

You’re a party of exceptions. Most adventurers are Villagers or Guards, common destinies that don’t always find a place within a town or village that have so many of each already. There are days you report for a mission, and you’re offered a blacksmith’s job on the spot just because of the mark on your arm.

Kent is a landless Lord. There’s a story there, you know, but it’s not one he’s ever volunteered. You can see his destiny pull at him in the remote reaches of the Kingdom, where no Lord has laid roots and the monsters run roughshod across the barren soil. Nights where you’re too far from civilization find him gazing up into the stars, his fingers curled like claws into the earth. The look on his face then is so hungry that the first time you saw it, you offered him provisions from your own pack. He’d shaken his head wryly, his scarred frown twisting, and walked off into the night by himself, only returning in the morning light.

Sella is a Guardian without anyone to look after. You knew her story before she told it to you, whispering it like a bedtime story before the end of the world. She was part of a traveling theater group. She looked after them, feeding them and retrieving those with wanderlust from their journeys before curtain call. When a monster siege led by a Demon King fell upon the city they were performing in, the Lord called his people into his castle and locked the doors.

The troupe were not his people. But they were Sella’s.

Until they weren’t.

You drag your battle hammer up and over your shoulder. Conveniently, the dragon fire has burned away the wet viscera that had been clinging to it. The metal is dark with soot, but undamaged.

The things you smith can’t be melted by any fire except your own.

The skeletal trees make the scene of this final battle oddly silent. Ash drifts from the sky, carried by a wind too high to feel. You can hear your party sniping at each other behind you and the gentle gurgle of the beast’s body settling comfortably into death.

The red dragon is beautiful. Its scales gleam and sparkle like rubies in the late afternoon sun and its talons shine like obsidian. Each part of the creature could make an average family rich for a month. You consider it from an arm’s reach away. You chew your bottom lip as you think. Your adventures have taken you across the continent from the southern coast you call your home, to the western land of rivers, to the northern desert and then here, to the eastern dry lands. After all your travels, you find yourself still thinking of home often. Crab is a delicacy where you’re from despite being so close to the water. The preparation can be tedious which makes it a dish reserved from significant occasions. Cracking the shell was always your job…

“Oh,” Sella says faintly. She makes an attempt to rise and nearly tips over in the process. If it weren’t for her bow, she’d be on the ground. Her knees shake as she uses a combination of a tree and her bow to pull herself up. “Mande, rest first! In an hour I can help you—”

You bring your hammer down on the jaw of the dragon. The bone shatters after just two blows. It’s best not to think about how beautiful it looked flying overhead or the intelligence in its eyes. You’ve always had a single-minded focus and you rely on that now.

“Leave her to her dismantling,” Kent grumbles. He’s now curled up on the ground is if in his sleeping roll, hands tucked neatly under his chin. It can’t be a comfortable position given his full suit of armor no matter how peaceful his expression. “If she’s got the energy for it, who are we to argue? Just keep the ribs intact. That’s what the client wants.”

Smash!

“It’s our turn to do the dismantling,” Sella says. She glares down at Kent. “Mande already did last week’s gryphon and the hydra. Get up!”

Smash!

“I’m an old man who needs his nap time.”

“You’re an irresponsible leader who needs to do his part.”

Smash!

“Once Mande stops swinging that thing around, I will.”

“She won’t hit you—”

“She hit me last week!”

“And I apologized for that,” you say through gritted teeth. You let your hammer fall by your feet. Your last blow sent tremors through your arms. The dragon’s jaw is like glass compared to its skull. “Sincerely.”

Sella makes a gagging sound when you fall to your knees next to the cracked skull. “Mande, don’t put your hand in there, that’s – oh, that’s so gross.”

“The book I read said it’d be…aha!” Your fingers graze something cool and metallic. You abruptly feel like crying. It’s been seven months. Seven long months of endless missions and danger and being away from home. This entire dragon is priceless, but you’ve forfeited your share for this. You blink rapidly to keep your tears at bay. You aren’t going to cry. Not until you’re sure that you’ve really found it. “Quick, hand me my waterskin.”

Your urgency gets even Kent up and bustling towards the dragon’s corpse. With trembling fingers you accept the water from Stella, pulling out your prize. It’s smaller than you thought, only about the length of your arm or a third the length of the dragon’s skull.

With bated breath, you gently trickle water over the length of it. Your party kneels beside you, watching just as raptly.

“What is it?” Sella breathes.

Kent is wide-eyed as, inch by inch, your treasure reveals itself.

“A dragon’s silver wit,” you say. The silver is mottled by the dragon’s black blood and grey brain matter. “The last ingredient I need for a Hero’s Sword.”

-----.

“You can’t just make a Hero’s Sword,” Kent is still saying a week later. He throws his hands up to the sky. “Heroes make them from air and magic and righteousness. Blacksmiths just repair them!”

You didn’t ask for Sella or Kent to follow you home. In fact, you assumed they wouldn’t. The slaying of the red dragon marked the end of your time in the Adventurer’s Guild. Now you’re ready to return to your position as the southern port’s best blacksmith and you thought they’d be ready to return to the best two adventurers the Capital Guild had.

“I’ve heard legends about it,” Sella says. She’s walking backward. You’ve already warned her that the roads this far away from Capital aren’t as smooth, but she’d scoffed at your concern. Now it’s pure stubbornness to prove you wrong that has her continuing to walk backwards despite nearly tripping twice already. “Excalibur was manmade.”

“The legend of Hero Arthur is manmade,” Kent retorts.

“If you believe that,” you say, “you really don’t need to come home with me.”

Kent blinks. “Well,” he says slowly, “on the off chance it’s not a fairytale, I desperately want to see it.”

“Then shut up and follow Mande,” Sella says. She elbows him and mutters under her breath. “Or else she might not let us stay at her house.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure the dragon fetched enough coin for the both of you to get your own rooms at the inn.”

“Sure,” Kent agrees. He grins wickedly and the expression makes him look ten years younger. “But we’re not going to do that, are we Sella?”

“Nope,” Sella chirps. She loops an arm through yours before you can protest and squints at the horizon. “Is that your hometown over there?”

A hazy line of blue and white roofs is barely distinguishable in the fading light of day. Sella has better vision than you. You’re sure she can see the masts of ships in port, the green and yellow flag waving over the chief’s house, maybe even the orchard that creeps right up to the edge of the bluffs.

You can’t wait to see it yourself.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been smiling, but your face hurts by the time you find your voice. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

----------.

Mom hurls a loaf of bread at your head when you walk through the front door, Kent and Sella in tow.

Kent catches it an inch from your face. “Whoa, whoa!” He waves the bread as if unsure whether he should drop it or throw it back. “It’s your daughter! Mande! Put down the bread basket!”

“Mande and friends,” Sella says cheerfully. She waves at your Mom, Dad, and little brother. “Hello! I’m Sella.”

“I threw it because I know who it is,” your mom says. The grey streaks on either side of her temple are wider. Her round, kind face is pale with anger. “We thought you were dead.”

“We got your letters,” your dad says before you can ask. His hair hasn’t changed; he’s bald. He’s wearing his leather apron from the forge at the table. He takes a bite of soup. “All three of them.”

“Not nearly enough,” Mom snaps. Then, “And they could have been forgeries.”

“Who would forge a blacksmith’s letters home?” you ask in exasperation. Is that why she never replied? “Mom, please.”

“Don’t giveme that when you’ve been dead for seven months,” she says. She stands abruptly. “Three of you? Sit down. I don’t have enough soup, but bread will fill anyone’s stomach.”

“I’m Kent,” Kent blurts out before Sella can push him into a chair. He sits with a thud. “Sella, it’s rude to sit before introducing yourself!”

“Ruder than not knocking or coming for dinner without an invitation?” Sella hisses at him. She turns a charming smile on your little brother. “Sorry to intrude. You must be Axton. A pleasure to meet you.”

Axton doesn’t return her greetings. His eyes are fixed to the package strapped to your back. “Is that…?”

You swallow hard as your family’s eyes turn to you. You carefully pull the cloth-wrapped rod from your back. Your little brother isn’t so little anymore. You can see he’s taller than you as he stands in unison with Dad to clear a spot on the table. His long, thin hands make quick work of the ties.

There’s complete silence as the burlap falls away to reveal gleaming silver.

Axton’s throat bobs. He’s barely eighteen with the soft look of a fawn hovering around the edges of his jaw and cheekbones. Mom and Dad have done a good job feeding him while you’ve been gone. Seven months ago your brother looked like a wraith, all the light taken from him as if it all came from his hero’s sword.

“You’re going to make me a sword,” Axton says at last.

You’ve thought about this moment for seven months. You imagined you would say something like it’s okay now or maybe big sister fixed it. When his hero’s sword was taken from him, you thought about all sorts of things. It took a month for you to set out on this quest rather than one of revenge. It wouldn’t have helped Axton if you’d forged a hundred weapons of war to punish those who’d hurt him. It wouldn’t help Axton to pretend you fixed anything.

So instead you tell the truth.

“It won’t be the same,” you say. “It won’t work the way you want it to. Not right away. You’ll need to train with it and learn it as you would any other weapon. Your instincts won’t help you. But…it won’t break when I’m done. It won’t bend or chip. It won’t melt. It will serve you, Axton, until the exact moment you don’t need it anymore.”

Axton flies around the table to throw his arms around you. It’s amazing you came from the same parents. Where you are short and stocky, he’s really like a deer. His long arms could encircle you twice as he lifts you with a hero’s strength. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

And then you’re being hugged all around. Your dad’s strong, Blacksmith arms are crushing you to your brother, your mother’s soft cheek is against your shoulder, and there’s plate mail digging into your spleen while a sharp elbow digs into your spine.

You manage to turn your head just enough to see Kent hugging your from behind and Sella hugging him from behind. It’s her elbow that’s jabbing you.

“This is sweet,” she says. Her voice is a little muffled from how her face is pressed against Kent’s back. “We should hug more.”

“Does this make your brother a Hero?” Kent asks.

“This is a family hug,” you say.

“Duh,” Sella says. “That’s why we joined.”

You really can’t argue with that.

-

(Patreon)

Next week's story: Everyone in LA has two job. You've got a big smile and a talent for seeing ghosts. It's no surprise what your jobs are.

[sakurapandadreams]

୨♡୧ ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT 5

Please take all of these predictions with a grain of salt I'm not a professional astrologer.

Here's my masterlist

& if you have any questions here are the GUIDELINES

NATAL OBSERVATIONS

🫐 Aquarius Mercuries also leave people on read thinking they'll reply later, dude reply now you guys will forget later on.

🫐 Venus square Pluto may get bullied by women and the men they reject.

🫐 Your Moon also shows what you overthink about :-

Eg : Virgo Moons overthink whether their intelligent enough or not.

Libra Moons overthink whether people love them or not.

Capricorn Moons are busy overthinking about who's lying.

Pisces Moons are busy overthinking about fictional characters or things that have not even taken place.

🫐 Mars in Taurus is also quite sensual and these people may have a high libido. Most of them know how to channel their energy.

🫐 Venus in Virgo tends to look good no matter what they wear [at times they may wear clothes that won't necessarily be their style but they will still end up looking good in it].

🫐 Cancer Moons are also good at manifestation.

🫐 Pisces Sun, Pisces Moons are better at hiding things, stuff, their personal life. Basically they lie where required.

🫐 Mars in Capricorn reminds me people who are more active mentally than physically. These people know when to play and when to be serious.

🫐 Cancer Risings I can't just blatantly state you guys get bad partners, it's just you guys often fall for people who have a tough time expressing themselves emotionally. You guys also end up being in karmic relationships many a times.

🫐 Moon square Mars tends to feel emotions very intensely. They should journal their anger on a clean piece of paper and then burn the paper.

VEDIC OBSERVATIONS

🫐 If you have a moon darakaraka, only in this placement you can marry a person with the same sign as yours.

🫐 Mars in the 2nd house may eat alot of meat, it's like they'll love meat and find it hard to be a Vegan or Vegetarian.

🫐 Also Mars in the 2nd house swears or curses a lot doesn't matter what sign. They can end up creating new cuss words too lol.

🫐 Rahu 10th house is a good placement however the natives with this placement struggle to choose a career for themselves.

🫐 Venus in the 9th house also tends to be asexual or sapiosexual.

🫐 Rahu in the 9th house makes you doubt your morals. Whether your a good person  or  not.

🫐 Sun-Mercury conjunction in the 7th house can give a spouse you has solutions to mostly all of your problems. Even if their not too educated they may still have solutions to your problems.

🫐 Sun Nakshatra people have so much perseverance like no matter what they go through they always stand tall facing their problems all by themselves.

🫐 Like 12th house reminds people of spiritual, paranormal, esoteric, escapism but what people forget is this house represents creativity as well.

🫐 12th house lord in the 9th house could mean your creative and would want to pursue a career in something artistic.

🫐 Venus in Pisces in any nakshatra gives you such ethereal dreamy looking face these people never age.

🫐 Sometimes I feel Mars atmakaraka has trouble asking for help.

🫐 Sagittarius Moons and Capricorn moons easily argue with each other then 5 min later their bffs like dude [yeh rishta kya keh lata hai.]

Credits for the images and dividers goes to the rightful owners

Copyright © 2024 sakurapandadreams | All rights reserved.

[luveline]

Hi Jade, for a Halloween ask could I request tasm! Peter or James trying to persuade their s/o to dress up in a couples costume? Tyyyyy

When James comes home that evening, it’s with the attitude of a man entrenched in love. Like, you’ve suddenly become a more enticing woman, his honeymooning, doting, squeezy sort of affection timesed by a thousand. He takes your face in the middle of the living room and holds you like he’s worried you might walk away. 

“Alright,” you whisper. “What do you want?” 

James holds you imploringly. “Oh, please, I just want one favour.” 

“You never want just one favour, James.” Still, you draw a heart over his face with your eyes and resign yourself to saying yes to whatever whim it is he’s going to ask of you. 

James smiles. He’s never not smiling, genuinely, but he reserves a softer super-happiness for you, and blesses you with it whenever he feels you’ve done something inconceivably kind. It’s the first sign of peril. 

He has a plethora of ideas and none you like. The first being M&M’s. Then, I’ll be Jack and you’ll be Sally. No, I suppose I’m not skinny enough. He offers Gomez and Morticia; salt and pepper; a vampire and their unwitting victim, wherein he’s the victim, of course.

“I feel like all of these require too much body paint,” you say. 

“What about…” He brings your hand to his lips. “Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Black?”

“Darling,” you say, lovingly disapproving, “absolutely not.” 

“But what will we be, otherwise? I’m running out of options.” 

You’re on the sofa now. James lays across you, a little big for it but too sweet to push away as he opens your hand, talking against your palm. 

“You haven’t suggested beans on toast.” 

“Would you–” He stops as you laugh. “Tease.” 

“I have the perfect one. We’ll be Sirius and his unavoidable penchant for mischief.”

“So, Sirius and Remus.” 

And while that would be funny, you have a far better idea in mind. You lean over him and turn his face by the line of his jaw, murmuring in his ear. “We’ll be lovebirds,” you decide, knowing the cheesier the costume the better, that a handmade headband and onesie will make his entire year. “How’s that? You can dress me up in feathers. And when everyone asks–”

“It’s brilliant. God, it’s inspired, it’s magnificent,” he says, but it’s all so soft you’re not truly listening, letting him pull you down for a kiss. “We’ll be the talk of the town.” 

Sirius will piss himself laughing, but James will be happy. “Glad that’s sorted.” 

[withleeknow]

how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: hyunjin x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; mentions of menstruation bc obviously; erhmmm unedited and also i haven't been properly writing for like over a month now so this is basically just me easing my way into it again, i understand that this sux lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

hyunjin, who takes it upon himself to be your personal butler the very second you mention in passing, in the most casual tone possible, “my period must be around the corner.”

hyunjin, who makes you hold a heating pad while he wraps you up in a tight burrito despite your countless protests and reassurances that you are not in pain. you literally don’t know how he does it; sometimes, his shoelaces come undone ten minutes after he leaves the house and yet, he’s able to tuck you in so tightly that you – a whole human being – can’t even wiggle your way out of the burrito.

hyunjin, who tries to be the perfect boyfriend and make you something decent to eat, but ends up having to call minho to ask for help when he realizes there isn’t a whole lot that he knows how to cook.

hyunjin, who ultimately has to order takeout from your favorite restaurant because he still manages to mess up dinner despite minho on facetime walking him through every step. (he mistook salt for sugar at one point.)

hyunjin, whose hobbies include filling his sketchbook with drawings of you as you nap on the couch with your head in his lap and kkami resting by your feet.

hyunjin, who washes your hair for you when you’re too tired to do it yourself, who rubs your stomach and massages your shoulders every night before bed.

hyunjin, who cancels all his plans just to stay home and watch bad romcoms with you, because there really isn’t anywhere else he would rather be. (this one is arguably more about him than it is about you; canceling plans is an introvert’s favorite thing to do after all.)

hyunjin, who already treats you like a princess on a daily basis but he gets to amp up the affection during that time of the month. he doesn’t mind; sometimes he even looks forward to having an excuse to wake you up with sickeningly sweet smooches all over your face, kiss you every time he walks into the same room, or simply crank up the doting that he thinks you deserve every day of the year.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 14.10.2024]

[cheriladycl01]

I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader

Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.

For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.

Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.

You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.

Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.

"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.

You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.

Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.

"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.

"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.

"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.

"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.

"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.

You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.

Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!

But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.

Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.

And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.

He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.

"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.

He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.

He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.

It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.

And god you loved him for those attributes.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.

But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.

He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.

And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.

He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.

You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.

Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.

But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.

And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.

But ... now wasn't the right time.

You would always take your Whiskey neat.

And Lando ...

Well.

He was far too sweet.

Taglist:

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[zarnzarn]

The doors to Olympus are sturdy and strong, given everyone's preferences for drama and slamming said doors open and sending them cracking into the wall whenever the opportunity arises. Which is why it's a surprise when they creak open during the once-a-decade pantheon meeting; less so because no entity worth their salt would take so long to open the doors, and more so because everyone who is anyone is already there.

But if everyone is being honest with themselves- which no one is, usually- these gatherings are boring enough that the bland conversation is dropped immediately in favour of craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming to relieve them of their boredom.

When the doors finally open however, several of the pantheon murmur in surprise.

"Odysseus," Athena whispers, wide-eyed as she pushes herself off her throne to her feet. It is him- in the king's garb he was buried in but the face he has when he reached home, hair till the shoulders and speckled with grey, face oddly blank. His feet are transparent.

"What are you doing here, sceptre?" Poseidon booms, hair the color of a stormy sea. Zeus, beside him, looks reserved, observing the ghost with something approaching curiosity- eyes flicking to the lightning scars on his daughter's face and back. "Your time has long passed, and Hades-"

"It is a temporary agreement," Odysseus says curtly, barely sparing him a glance as he approaches his patron. "Athena."

Her armour clinks as she steps forward and the gods all twitch, trading glances. Owls are silent creatures- to have her aspect so affected to make noise was... uneasy to say the least. She even holds herself different than usual, something like confused delight shining in her eyes. "How did you-"

"Did you sleep with my wife?"

The throne room is silent. Several jaws drop.

Athena straightens back up, blinking in surprise. She looks a bit shifty, some of the nymphs closest whisper to each other, which- well, almost every single god present owed some part of their existence to the mere story of Odysseus loving his wife.

Would he fight his own patron goddess over it in front of Mount Olympus, though? He certainly was unbalanced enough; Athena herself looked rather uncertain of her odds, even though-

"Are you addled in death, King of Ithaka?" Artemis drawls, looking amused. "Did you forget that your own patron is celibate? Whatever rumor you-"

"No, I-" Athena says suddenly, shifting her spear to her other hand. "I did."

Artemis chokes on her breath and several assorted divine beings gasp in shock and the rest shouting for explanations, although everyone is nearly drowned out by Aphrodite's loud, "WHAT?"

Odysseus inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you."

"She asked-" Athena starts, only to be drowned out by the din of various beings screeching and shouting about the scandal.

"ATHENA!" Hera hisses, peacock tail fanning behind her sharply as she pushes herself up. "Explain yourself!"

Athena half-turns to face her, face creased in a frown. "Mother, I-"

"LET ME REPHRASE!" Odysseus cuts in loudly, and the shouting settles down into silence. He walks to his patron, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe," he throws his clenched fists wide as he growls the last word, "-you took Penelope to bed-" Athena surprisingly stays still as he reaches her, mouth falling open as he grabs her by the chiton to yank her down, uncaring of the gasps of horror from all around as he snarls, "-before you ever kissed me."

And then Odysseus grabs Athena by the face roughly and kisses her.

This time Aphrodite's shriek cannot be escaped by anyone.

"Aphrodite, please," Zeus says a few moments later, wincing as his throne reforms around him, stained oddly pink. Quite a few minor entities have discorporated, and the ones nearest to her are still trying to regenerate their hearing. "Control yourself."

Their eyes land back on where Athena has dropped her spear- dropped her spear, Ares in the corner seems to be having some minor hysteria over this, well warranted- and is also on the floor, still being thoroughly kissed by that insufferable, mannerless hero of hers, perched on her stomach to reach. Zeus inhales in fury, Poseidon close behind him as the shock wears off, lightning crackling around his fingers as he opens his mouth to shout- of all the indignities-

"If you two ruin this for me," Aphrodite thunders, warping in front of them and glaring. "I will make you both regret it."

Both gods visibly blanch at the threat, taken aback for one brief moment. Threats from Aphrodite are far worse than any of her more violent siblings, at the end of the day.

Zeus visibly gathers himself just as Athena's helmet clatters to the floor, and he gains a second wind immediately, eye twitching as he spreads a hand to the spectacle in the middle of the hall. "WHAT MANNER OF DISRESPECT IS THIS? TO BARGE INTO OUR MEETING AND THROW ONE OF THE OLDEST GODDESSES TO THE FLOOR LIKE A COMMON WENCH-"

"Zeus," Hera says quietly. Everyone falls silent, although it's not quite enough to stop the two tangled together on the ground. She clears her throat, which finally seems to get through to Athena, who had finally seemed to have gotten over her shock enough to reach out, hands hovering over Odysseus hesitantly. Still, at the noise she seems to remember herself, pushing herself up on an elbow and dislodging him enough to break their necking. He pouts at her, but Athena's eyes are too glazed over to notice, heaving for breath.

Hera opens her mouth to speak, crown manifesting on her brow as she steps in front of the throne, but closes it as the door rattles again.

This time, the spectre shimmers with a faint hint of scales that comes with a freshwater nymph's heritage and excited whispers starved for drama explode across the room as the Queen of Ithaka steps into the room, skirts hitched in her hand and panting as if she'd been running.

"Your Graces," She bows respectfully before entering, Spartan princess through and through, until she catches sight of her husband and Athena, the former of whom seems to have taken the opportunity to start kissing the wisdom goddess again, fingers in her curls.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, rushing over. The entire courtroom holds its breath. She slaps her husband upside the head, making him yelp and move back to shoot her a betrayed look. Athena looks even further dazed than before, cheeks red. "Argos has more manners than you! No wonder Lady Athena wanted nothing to do with you- ah, hello, darling, by the way."

"Penelope," Athena murmurs hoarsely, and the Queen of Ithaka leans down to kiss her as well.

Odysseus chuckles, then jumps with everyone else as Hera slams a hand down on the throne elegantly, cracking it to the base.

"Ah, goddess-" He says, clambering off Athena to bow.

"Silence," Hera interrupts, holding up a hand, eyes cold. "You will not say anything to me apart from an explanation. My agreement for your release from Ogygia was due to the assurance that your marriage was one of the truest I have ever witnessed, conveyed by Athena herself when bartered with all of us to let you go. Tell me, was it a ploy? Because from the disgraceful looks of it, this seems to not be the case in the slightest."

Odysseus frowns, face twisting in confusion. "Athena bartered with...?" He turns to look at his patron, who stares back, unspeaking. His eyes flicker to the lightning scar over her right eye as Penelope traces it with horrified eyes and a gentle thumb, and understanding seems to dawn.

For a moment, rage seems to fill him, glaring with a hatred towards Zeus that everyone whispered later wasn't met by the god king with anger, but a flicker of remorse- before he visibly throws it away behind Athena's old smile and bows.

"God-queen," He says formally, gracefully. Hera twitches a bit, and they'll all talk later about how odd it was to so clearly see Athena's younger mannerisms in the man, down to the curl of the letters. "My marriage to Penelope has never been false, never been broken, this I promise you." He takes Penelope's hand and squeezes it for emphasis, and she raises them as acknowledgement. "But... can you not argue that Athena has been part of our marriage all this time? From its start, where she advised me on courting and her on what to look for, to the twenty years she spent with both of us- me on the battlefield and Penelope in the court; to say nothing of how she helped raise our son and lived in our palace in the days after. And is she not so unbearably beautiful that even my Penelope couldn't wait-" He shoots a glare at her, which Penelope returns with a smile. "-when the chance was presented? How can you fault us for disgrace, after being so long apart from our wife?"

Hera raises both eyebrows at the impudence, the kind of disbelieving expression that hides a warning to tread carefully. "So you claim to be both married to Pallas Athena?"

"In every way that matters except legality," Odysseus says, fearlessly. He is dead, after all, what much can you do to a shade that they didn't already put him through when alive. He is sort of worried about Athena, though, as they both help her back to her feet, Penelope busy whispering compliments and updates and endearments in turn- she's not usually one to be quiet in face of a problem.

Hera tilts her head. "Ah, but you see. I need the legality, if I am to finally-" A helpless, excited smile pulls at her lips once, twice, before unfolding into a bright grin, peacock tails unfolding to their full wingspan. "-finally arrange for a marriage for my eldest daughter who has not once- oh finally, I can hardly believe this day has come-"

"I do not like the way you grabbed her, Sacker of Troy," Ares steps forward as Hera starts ranting half to herself, half to an equally loud assemblage of joyful entities about wedding arrangements, eyes narrowed.

Odysseus barks an incredulous, loud laugh, gesturing to Athena with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "This lady has broken- and I do not exaggerate- every single bone in my body before I saw my sixteenth year. I have punched her a hundred times in the face when she taught me how to fight. We'll survive, thanks."

"That is fair," Ares steps back, hands raised.

"What duties will you provide as spouses, Ithakan Queen?" Hestia questions, stepping forward.

"Oh, the same we did when we were living," Penelope huffs a laugh. "Keep her busy, make her laugh, be of mild frustration to her, love her well, worship her-"

"I do not. Need to know," Hestia closes her eyes and raises a hand to cut her off, stepping back. Around them, the din catches speed and volume as no further objections arise, excitement spilling into the air.

"What is happening?" Athena says faintly, looking around as if she was just waking up.

"-oh, and we can get out the decor once more! Hebe, Aphrodite, loves, do you remember where we kept the fountains-"

"-finally, a reason to celebrate! Call them all out of hiding-"

"-can't believe this is finally happening, oh sister, what songs should we-

"Why am I getting married," Athena says with much more alarm and horror. She turns to Odysseus and shakes him by the shoulder, eyes wild. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"How is this nothing? Do you have any idea the headache-"

"Athena, sweetheart, will you consider changing into that beautiful piece you made for the ceremony?"

Creakily, she turns her head to Hera, disbelief pasted across her face. "Mother," She says slowly. "They are both dead."

"Oh, I'll make a deal with Hades or something, you hush!" Aphrodite leans forward and snaps, before her irritation melts back into a manic joy. "Oh, what paint shall we do?"

Paint, Athena mouths, looking afraid for possibly the first time since her conception.

Penelope laughs and tugs on Athena's hand to make her turn, tucking dishevelled curls behind her ear. She wonders if the goddess knows how beautiful she is when she's flustered. "Take us away," She whispers. On Athena's other side, Odysseus leans against their patron with a besotted, helpless smile as he stares up at her, her helmet and spear in hand. She'd missed Athena like a limb, missed her deep laugh at night when they'd discussed the day's court, the dry jokes, the hands over hers as she weaved- but Odysseus wasn't himself without her, happy though they were in Hades' lands together, all of them.

"I'm-" Athena wavers, then looks around once more at all the excited screaming, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Almost against her will, her eyes fall to Zeus, who is sitting silently and staring back at her. Poseidon looks like he still wants to start a fight, but clearly by his wary looks below can tell he will be heavily outnumbered by the overexcited crowd to not try, but Zeus just stares back at her, face blank of any emotion.

"We ask you formally this time," King Odysseus says, walking in front of her to take her attention away, holding onto her hand. His voice has strength in it, drawing the eyes of the murmuring crowd, but he's deaf to it as he stares up at her.

"Will you be our wife?" Queen Penelope asks, joining him, watching their beautiful patron shudder for breath she does not need as her eyes flick to one of them and then the other.

"Yes," She whispers and cheers erupt all across Mount Olympus.

"Finally!" Odysseus complains, and then pulls her down once more to kiss her, all three of them fading at the edges as one of the generous gods present there- who seems to realize that they're not very inclined to stop anytime soon- thankfully teleports them away into a nice room with a large bed.

"Finally," He whispers as he breaks apart to lay her down, cupping her face, voice heavy with the longing of a full lifetime and more. Penelope circles to the head of the bed and starts undoing Athena's braid, staring at them both lovingly.

Later the ones closest will murmur, as the silhouettes faded away, that tears had slipped from proud Pallas Athena's eyes as she placed one hand against Odysseus' cheek, trembling.

"I missed you," She will whisper back, and all three of them fade away to their own story, yet to be made.

[yanderefarm]

Currently caught up on your posts and saw what 🪐 anon said so to make this better lets break some more yanderes!!

We already got some Nephy content so let's step it up a notch..

How about making some of the yanderes totally codependent on us in order to even live?? Like we go really extreme and remove one of their limbs sort of things because if they're willing to do anything to keep us then we should return the favor to them

I have an issue...

-🐝

cw;; cannibalism, gore, amputation, violence, abuse, ableism (kind of?? this isn't meant to be realistic depictions to begin with so take it with a grain of salt), amputation kink, dehumanization, dumbification, pet play, dead dove don't eat

ohhhh the amputation ask was about us doing it. still. its an amputation kind of night so we're doing it.

i can only see this with a few of them so im just gonna write about them. tbh i could probably also do something with ajax but i don't know what.

silvan;; he can't hurt himself anymore if he doesn't have arms. after being particularly bad and hurting himself enough to leave an ugly scar you decided to go through the process of having his limbs removed. it's usually reserved for cruel pet owners but in your case it's necessary for his own well being. well removing his legs wasn't necessary but you thought it would be better that way. he's completely dependent on you, he has no choice but to spend his days being carried by you or his maid because you refuse to give him any mobility aids. the only time he gets a taste of freedom again is during parties where you outfit him in beautiful but barely functional porcelain prosthetics. he can't move his hands and he can just barely walk so he still has to rely on you.

imagine him cutely waking you up by crawling over top of you. you open your eyes and look up to see his cheeks red and tears in his eyes. poor thing needs you to carry him to the bathroom, you give him a little kiss before you put him on the bed. you watch him squirm and try to sit up before you finally pick him up like a child. his tears soak your nightshirt as you carry him to the bathroom. he's so pathetic.

achilles;; the ultimate punishment. one of your regulars in your streams and as a customer asked you one night how much for a leg, normal question for you. except he meant achilles leg. and he was willing to pay millions for it. achilles and you spend a long time talking it over. it's not that you don't love the idea of taking away his life and making him solely dependent on you but you're worried about him waking up one day hating you for doing this to him. he assures you that's impossible and even if he did wake up one day hating you he would want you to break him back into place. he asserts over and over that his life, his body, his mind are all yours to break as you will. so he loses a leg. and then an arm. and soon enough your cute toy is just a sweet little thing that needs you for everything.

imagine him crawling as best he can over to you whining the whole way. you take pity on him and pick him up, sitting him in your lap while you play games. everyone in the stream says hi to him so excited to see him and his face that was once the picture of stoicism lights up with glee. he waves a nubby arm at them and almost falls off your lap. you give him a gentle kiss as you fix him between your legs. you have to remind him again to use his words and he struggles to think like he has every day since he became a happy little toy. "fhank you!!" so cute.

noemie;; he's premium meat and you've always found it a waste not to eat him no matter how much you like him. so when he gets on your last nerve you decide you've had enough. he screams and cries like a proper pig but you can tell even through his tears he's so happy. you only take his limbs and let him keep the rest because that's how much you like him. he is so grateful when he watches you eating one of his legs and you're kind enough to feed him some as well!! and now, you take your four legged piggy and you put him in your bedroom, metal on his nubs, hook in his nose, a little fake pig tail in his ass. he's a reward for you after a long day of work. sometimes you take him out and carry him around for some fresh air and to see everything you've been working on.

imagine opening the door to your bedroom to see your little piggy sitting in his bed on the floor looking excited to see you and immediately oinking. you pick him up and carefully remove his nose hook before you start to head to the bath. you're covered in blood and grime from work and he smells sweaty. he'll cuddle against your chest while he talks about what he thought about all day and how much he missed you. in the bath he'll splash and blow bubbles and be all excited you have to take him out and wrap him tightly in his towel so you can actually clean yourself. but he'll never stop talking and praising and smiling at you.

[scoobysnakz]

1940’s hubby miguel who decides to make dinner that night. he tells you to go have a bath, pour in those bath salts he’s spent so much money on, and relax. he’s got this sorted.

he makes your favourite and even decorates the table all nice and pretty for you. there’s a candle in the middle with the fancy white doilies you got as a wedding gift from some cousin however many times removed on his side. he even uses the china that is specially reserved for when either of your parents come over.

1940’s hubby miguel who plants a soft kiss to your neck as he pulls the chair out for you. “can’t let you get your freshly manicured hands dirty now, can we, doll?” he teases playfully.

you push him off, grinning, because you know full well he cleaned the house before you got home.

1940’s hubby miguel who spends the whole of dinner showering you with compliments and praise. at first you’re suspicious but his soft, dimpled smile calms your nerves.

you’re having an amazing time, just him and you with no negative emotions to get in the way of what will surely be be a great evening.

1940’s hubby miguel who eventually realises tonight can’t be all flirting and smiles because he has to be honest with you.

miguel clears his throat, drawing your attention away from your food and back up to him with your wide, admiring eyes. “we need to talk, doll.”

bile rises in your throat and your head feels heavy. he sounds so serious, anxious even, you’ve never seen him this way before. what is it he has to tell you? is he, fuck, is he cheating? is that why he’s been so nice, to let you down slowly?

“it sounds ridiculous, unbelievable, and i won’t be surprised if you slap me and tell me to grow up,” he starts, a slight edge to his voice, “but i’m spiderman.”

1940’s hubby miguel who can’t hide the hurt in his eyes when you burst out laughing. it’s nice, to see you smiling and giggling right after staring at him with such wide, intense eyes. but it still stings that you find this funny.

“dios mio, what’s so funny, amor?” he questions, trying to soften his tone.

it takes you a moment to catch your breath, tears threatening to spill as you clutch your chest. “what am i meant to say to that?” you just about manage, “is this some new roleplay you want to try out?”

he hadn’t thought of that, actually.

“no, no, doll, i’m being deadly serious right now,” he allows an air of urgency to enter his voice, hoping it conveys the amount of vulnerability he’s showing.

“no way,” you declare, arms folded across your chest, “i’ve met him and he’s a slimy pompous ass, who thinks just because he’s saved a few thousand lives he can just pick up some random married woman.”

he smiles sheepishly at you, pearly whites and ever sharp canines poking over his lips. “ouch.”

you shake your head, still refusing to believe him. “if this is true, how haven’t i figured it out yet?”

“i’m a little hurt that you haven’t. you spent so long oggling over him on the news that i was sure you already knew.”

1940’s hubby who, after much back and forth, slowly convinces you.

“show me your webs.”

“muñeca, i can’t.”

“i know you can, migs.”

he pauses for a moment, glaring down at you with your determined frown, his expression mirroring yours. “how?” he finally sighs, a smile creeping up on him.

“i have a few ideas…”

since u asked for a tag

@laysmt

prev < > next

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 crusty first kiss rookanis enjoy 🪶

By the time they come out of the Diamond and into the marketplace, even the crystal peddler is closing up.

"Mierda."

"What?" Rook comes to a halt next to him. Little less than a week ago, he would have stepped away from just how close she stands to him.

"I meant to buy groceries. We're out of some spices."

Rook is quiet, like she's working up courage to speak her mind. Strange.

"I mean.. I've got groceries at home, if you still got time."

"How would you know the contents of the cooking rack?" Lucanis asks, despite motioning for her to lead the way. "I've not seen you use it once."

"Because someone always hogs the stove." She playfully knocks her shoulder into his arm. "No, I meant in my pad. It's just- well, up the roofs, but down the road. You get it."

She takes his hand and guides him down the road, up the trellis, over beams and through strategically broken windows.

"It's probably smelly in here," she says as she pulls out a keyring from under her cloak and opens a doorlock hidden behind an overgrown trellis. "Haven't been here in.. oh, over half a year."

"Hit the Antaam and hauled out of Treviso."

"For all the good that did, yeah. Oh, dear, sorry about that!"

Smells like stale air and rotten onions. Spite makes gagging sounds next to him as they both thread themselves through the open frame.

"Kitchenette's over there, you can just pick up whatever you like - let me open another window." She says over there as though her room wasn't so small it was already crowded with two short Crows and a demon.

A grunt, as she breaks open another of her windows. "Curse this forsaken rookery."

Sweet. Rook lives in a rookery.

"I'm sure her name hasn't been Rook her entire life, Spite. Or that she lived in a rookery all her life. How would a babe even get up here?"

If Lucanis had been told a year ago that he would comfortably talk to a demon inside him out loud while his dear is well within earshot, he would have fallen off a beam cackling.

Rook laughs. "It is a little funny, he's not wrong." Smart girl.

"Varric's chosen Rook for the chess piece, though. Says I think in straight lines. Can't imagine why."

"What's wrong with your own name?" Instead of going through her cabinets, he watches her light what seems like enough candles to burn down half of Treviso as she weaves a path through the clutter on the ground. Messy girl.

"He has this old friend of his, from where he comes from, who he'd given it as a nickname. Also an elf. Shorter than both of us, still, apparently. But she was Daisy first, I guess."

"I'm taller than you are."

"And I heard what Teia said to you about me. How you found the one Crow shorter than yourself." No bite or judgement, none at all. He's said worse to Davrin on a good day.

There's a spell of quiet, as he turns to actually take inventory of her reserves and she collects things she wants at the Lighthouse off the floor into an enormous backpack. Clothes, mostly, from the sound of it.

At least, quiet except for Spite logging every individual smell he registers. Every herb, every spice, the old must of damp fabric on wood planks, garlic so rotten the cloves have turned liquid inside. Lucanis' own cologne and Rook's strange mixture of cocoa and wet soil, though he dismisses those as Known and therefore uninteresting.

"Your kitchen is well-stocked, Rook." When she leans against the side of her tall cupboard, her plumed jacket hangs haphazardly over the doorknob behind her. By the door, her overstuffed backpack and a strapped milk crate filled with shoes.

"Don't sound so surprised. I remind you my shit-frys were at least edible, as opposed to whatever Harding does to the poor produce."

"That you call them shit-frys makes me all the more concerned." His sigh is playful, and she knows it. She hands off a basket to him, to collect the kitchenette's loot in.

She moves her hair over her bare shoulder, watches him collect containers of dried herbs, pink salt and ground garlic, syrups, jams. Some jerky, preserved damson.

"I don't actually put shit in it, you know." Through the sleeve of his shirt, she pinches at his arm.

"Do I know that?" She plays at offense when she catches his glance.

"Shit-fry's said faster than random assortment of fried vegetables. If I had grains, I'd call it Crow Feed."

It hits him like a blind bird hits a tall window, the domesticity of what they're doing here.

The achingly familiar weight of her skin on his. The unconditional trust as she lets him raid her kitchen. The fact that, when he'd asked to touch her back just that morning, to rub the visible tension from the muscles along her spine, she'd brushed her hair over her chest and turned away from him.You don't have to ask, Lucanis. You never have to ask.

The way that, even though he holds himself still as marble, his muscles still soften to accomodate for her touch.

Her forehead rests square against his triceps. Fingers curl in the fabric of his waistcoat, the other hand covering the edge of the countertop with the familiar ease of having suffered many injuries at its points.

Lucanis doesn't dare move. The spell of the moment would be broken faster than a splinter takes to skin. Spite runs across all four walls and the ceiling like a rabid cat.

"Never thought I'd see this place again," she admits, quietly. "Funny. I always hated it here. That I could never dream to live anywhere better. That this rancid, abandoned nest covered in birdshit was all my life would ever amount to."

The fingers in the fabric of his waistcoat pat gently against his small back as she collects herself with a deep, steadying breath.

"If you miss it that much," Lucanis starts, slowly. He holds himself so taut he can feel her brows pull together, even through his shirt. "You can always come back. A hideout from the hideout."

He moves to meet her gaze when he can feel her move to look up at him.

"Are you coming, too?"

"If you lead, I will follow."

Spite hurls curses at him in languages Lucanis never heard in his life, for reasons he isn't privy to, but it doesn't matter.

Not with the way Rook looks at him, right now.

"I really want to kiss you, Lucanis," she whispers. Her eyes flick up at his, down at his mouth.

"So do I." Spite chokes on the lump Lucanis tries to swallow out of his throat.

"Oh, good."

And then she leans up and does.

It's short, doesn't even last a heartbeat, and somehow it's both the smallest and the biggest thing that ever happened to him.

Her hand settles, surprisingly warm, on his low back. Even Spite is quiet, crouching in the sink with eyes wide as saucers. Rook's palm is still shielding him from the countertop corner.

People kiss like that all the time. Good-morning, good-night, I'm-still-too-sleepy-to-speak, I-just-felt-like-kissing.

It means nothing, and it means everything.

She comes back up for another.

YES. Again. More!

And another.

Her lips are parted now, wrap warm and soft around his.

Or his around hers.

Lucanis isn't sure.

The noise out of her throat, from balancing on her bad knee, rings loud as a chantry bell to him.

He's still holding on to the sweet potato.

Drops it to steady her, hand near her elbow. The sound turns curious, but she leans into the touch. There's renewed strength behind her lips now.

"Maker provide me," Rook huffs when she comes back down. She abandons the countertop corner, her nails slide onto his welt pocket.

When he looks at her lips, somehow there's more glitter on them than before.

"I could get lost in your puppy eyes for the rest of all time."

Lucanis has neither breath nor words.

So he ducks his face down to hers again.

🪶

this is spite

ALSO I PUT MY THESIS INTO THE HANDS OF MY COORDINATOR TODAY IM FINALLY FREE WHEEEEEEEEEE

also idk what first kisses w someone you actually care about are like dont come for me the reason I write like a wattpad preteen is bc when it comes to intimacy i AM the wattpad preteen

@lanafofana what we talked about is coming i promise <3

[~rina]

[riririnnnn]

So, do you guys remember what exactly Sae said about Isagi to Rin after the U-20 match was over?

Yeah:

The instinct part to be exact.

I never looked into that too deep, y'know. Yes, I thought it was sweet that Sae mentioned it, but other than that, I always thought, "Um, was that necessary? Hm?" I then used to brush it off by thinking, "Eh, it's just the usual anime-esque speech, nothing else."

HOWEVER.

The recent chapter (271) changed my whole thought process and when I had finally thought that I had seen everything the Itoshi brothers had to offer, I got whiplashed again.

Rin's 'instinct' can be interpreted as his berserk mode (yeah, that crazy drooling one) and Sae knew about it for the longest time:

And that's exactly what happened a few minutes before the U-20 match ended, right? Rin went into his destruction/berserk mode and went head-on against Sae, right? And he won, he WON against Sae in their 1V1, right?

So, guess who was the one who pushed Rin into that state.

Guess, guess.

Yep:

Exactly. Yep.

Exactly.

EXACTLY!?

It was that very moment when Rin was like, "I want to fight on my own!" And realised that Isagi and the whole team just didn't let him be alone!

I understand that he included the whole team in his inner monologue later, but the start of the spark was Isagi! It was Isagi who slid into Rin's blind spot and sparked the start of his berserk mode!

You getting me where I'm going with this one?

Even before Rin's goal, it was Isagi who low-key and unintentionally riled him up:

It was after this small chit-chat that we saw Rin going straight to lock horns with his Nii-chan and then scored a goal!

You getting me?

YOU GETTING ME!?

And this panel has always stood out to me:

The above happened after the the first half was over and he was ready to leave with a reasoning roughly saying, "I saw what I had to see." And then we see the above—the rather soft gaze—I thought maybe he was just thinking about Rin celebrating his goal?

But now that we know more about them, I can say that it meant much more.

Please say that you are getting me.

And if we were to take everything I said with a grain of salt, then we can say that Sae was subconsciously also looking for the one who can bring out Rin's true potential, and Shidou happened to be just the right person—I don't think I need to elaborate on this; no wonder Sae changed his mind and hopped back into the game once the demon was taken out of the reserve.

So, if you were to look into things through my perspective, Sae acknowledging/praising Isagi makes so much sense now—he is still trying to keep his promise after all.

And this idiot.

You dumbass. You buffoon. You absolute donkey. Have you learnt nothing!? Your Nii-chan still cares for you! Open your goddamn eyes, you stupid Itoshi!

[moonastro]

pick a picture⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚

𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙢 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙨 𝙥𝙩.2

left to right(top)-> 1,2

left to right(bottom)-> 3,4

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.

°Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).

° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

PILE 1-

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may have a significant-like a strong/muscley back or have problems with back pain--also the spine!!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may regularly change hairstyle often, perhaps cut their hair a lot and dye their hair often. i see them leaning towards having red/blue/grey hair.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may like sparkly thing, for example diamonds, glitter, glass and so forth. anything with sparkles on it intrigues them.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may also be into star shaped jewellery, stars may be an interest of theirs.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may wear hats or like to wear hoods.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚loves sleeping, is a deep sleeper.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may prefer winter/ autumn more than summer/spring. prefer the cold weather in general. may constantly have a fan/air con on at all times despite the weather outside.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚like cooking, preparing meals for others. are interested in learning new recipes.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚like history, are fascinated about historic events and eras.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚are most likely into skincare and haircare, have a designated routine that they do every day.

thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed!!✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

PILE 2-

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚are definitely a high achiever, may have a lot of achievements academically speaking.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚are sensitive to sounds, sound is very important to them. For example, may like loud music blasting in their ears or are the opposite and hate loud sounds, like hating fireworks because of their loud sound.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may have green eyes, blonde/red hair.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚love children, would want a family for sure. has a soft spot for kids.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚has multiple of ears piercing, may have other body piercings also.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚hate being in tight spaces, are picky about clothes and overall personal space.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚very caring and nurturing. is the kind of person to anonymously do something to protect you without craving for the attention of recognition.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚has some signature sitting position/habit that they have when sitting down. may cross their legs or bend one leg and so forth.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚love warm weather, especially watching the sunrise- are perhaps a morning person as well.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚love movies, might have a comfort movie that they watch over and over again.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚have longer than average legs.

thanks for reading!!!✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

PILE 3-

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚loveee music, may make/create/produce music themselves.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may prefer gold jewellery or may have/own a lot of gold accessories.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may be lactose intolerant or just hate diary, cheese-- may be vegan/vegetarian or follow some sort of a diet.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may like dark themes, clothes, style, music, aesthetic etc.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚weird way to explain it but may hate how time goes fast, may be afraid of aging or growing up. even may be afraid of death also.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚they don't get bored easily, can sit still doing nothing for hours on end.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚have a very hypnotic/sweet/classy voice. i feel like their voice makes people melt ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚keeps to themselves most of the time, and i don't mean that in a shy matter but in a energy reserved way- they just would much rather have/prefer their own company. or aren't bothered by being alone.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚might not celebrate their birthday. or may think that there is no need to.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚love thinking about the higher cosmos and the outer worldly possibilities.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may not drink enough water/don't like water/forget to drink water.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚prefer to stay silent than to express what they think.

hope you enjoyed this reading PILE 3!!!✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

PILE 4-

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚are sly with things, almost like hypnotic. their actions are so hypnotising that you cant say no to them.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚have a soft spot for old things, may like to go thrifting, collect lost things, love getting generational stuff passed down to them etc etc.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚definitely go with he flow, they may not think much of their future and are too busy thinking about the present moment.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚like to try new things, may like to go along with the current trends on the internet and social media. may like to make social media content also.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚think about others before themselves.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚may be from a hot country-may be racially mixed.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚are very loyal.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚keep very good secrets. i feel like they are the friend who is always getting the tea☕🍵😭

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚are good with little details, are always confronted with "how do you know that" or "how do you remember that??". because they surprise people of how good they remember the tiniest of details of a situation or person.

thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed PILE 4!!!✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

FRIENDLY REMINDER- paid tarot readings are available (DM or check out here for more info!!)

*IMAGES ARE NOT MINE*

[hauntedestheart]

Confidence Booster (Male Bodyswap)

Part 1:

Hector Rivera had woken up that morning in bed missing forty pounds of muscle, six inches of height, and four inches... somewhere else. So already that was a bad start to his day- but then when he'd stumbled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, it had gotten a whole lot worse.

Ray Baldwin. He'd been turned into fuck Ray Baldwin! He didn't have anything against the guy but he was just so... not like Hector.

In many ways the two were complete opposites: while Hector was bold and outgoing, a natural leader, Ray was more reserved and docile, a meek follower. These personality traits extended to their physicalities as well, with Hector being a towering specimen of manhood (built like a brick house) while Ray was short and slender (a textbook geek, pun intended). And now Hector was short and slender while Ray... where was Ray?

As a small blessing, Hector had still been in in his own bedroom, but everything looked out of place because of his shorter vantage point and it made him feel a bit like an intruder. His phone was still on the bedside table where he'd left it before and when he finally got his wits about him to check it he found a barrage of texts from Ray waitinf for him. While most of them were panicked nonsense, Hector gathered from some of the more sane ones that Ray was making his way over on foot. Meaning Hector's body was out there wandering the streets without him!

Of course Hector wasn't going to sit around and wait- he set out to meet Ray halfway. Mortifyingly, the only thing he had that fit his new body were an old hoodie that a girl had left at his place and a pair of athletic shorts that managed to stay up when he tightened the drawstring all the way (and even then they still hung down past his knees), but he didn't have any other options so he gritted his teeth and walked out the door dressed like a clown. He was halfway to Ray's place when he spotted a tall brown hunk stumbling down the street with a confused look on his face- Hector's face.

He'd choked on air at the sight of his real body- he couldn't believe the outfit Ray had crammed his body into! The white tank top was practically transparent, his nipples plainly visible as his pecs strained against the fabric, and the skimpy shorts left nothing to the imagination. His entire body was on display for anyone who walked by to see!

Being trapped in Ray's body was bad enough, but seeing his incredible body on display before him was just salt in the wound. The two men locked eyes, and Ray let out a little whimper.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Hector hissed, staring in horror at the clothes the muscular young man standing before him was stuffed into.

Ray, seeming just as uncomfortable as Hector was, grimaced. "When I woke up this morning your body tore through my clothes and this was the only thing I had that fit." Ray crossed his arms for a little pout, which made his biceps bulge, and it was Hector's turn to grimace. "I lost the shirt I got on my trip to Texas! I loved that shirt."

"Will you forget about your old shirt? I look like a stripper playing a track and field star!" Hector lamented, eying the too tight shirt and the too short shorts distastefully.

"It's not my fault, it's this body!" Ray exclaimed. He threw his arms out to the side for emphasis, stretching them out to their full impressive wingspan. "These shorts are usually baggy on me but your body just has a lot more going on down there. You're just so... big."

Hector's face grew dark and his temples began to throb. How dare this guy talk about Hector's body like it belonged to him!

"I want my body back right now," he snapped, and Ray shrunk back.

"And trust me, I'd give it to you if I could!" Ray sounded completely genuine when he said this, a slight whimper to his voice as he shifted himself around. From the way he held himself it was clear that he was uncomfortable in his new body, and he confirmed it a moment later. "I feel like the Incredible Hulk right now in a bad way, I'm all... bulgey!" He shuddered as he said this, and then winced when the motion made his package jiggle. He sighed with exasperation and stomped his foot, gesturing towards the bulge in his shorts. "And I'm tired of this thing bouncing around!"

Hector gaped. "Dude, stop manhandling my junk in public!"

"Sorry, it's just..." Ray reached down and adjusted his crotch, pushing down on it in an attempt to flatten it out, but the soft flesh immediately bounced back. "How do you deal with this thing? It's always in the way!"

Ray frowned down at his new junk, barely hidden by his shorts, and he jostled it around as he searched for some mystical position that would make it go away. Almost defiantly, as if it were mad at the notion of being hidden, Hector's penis elected to grow instead.

The real Hector's eyes widened as he watched his old body growing aroused. "Dude, cover that up now!"

Ray stared in horror at the obscene bulge forming in his shorts, only semi-hard and already straining at the fabric.

"Oh no!" He shouted, doubling over and placing both hands over his crotch in a desperate attempt to block his growing erection from view. "Sorry, it's just, your penis is so much bigger than mine and I–"

Hector winced at the comment and shuffled uncomfortably, trying desperately not to think about what he'd seen when he'd taken a piss that morning. "Trust me, I'm painfully aware of the size difference."

"I'm so sorry Hector," Ray gushed, tears brimming in his eyes. "I didn't mean to disrespect you and-"

And then he started crying in earnest, which meant Hector was stuck with a six foot tall hunk wearing what was basically lingerie sobbing in the middle of the sidewalk with a full boner- he hated his life. It was early in the morning so the two were alone, but they were still on an open street, and Hector needed to calm Ray down fast.

"Stop apologizing, okay?" He said firmly, reaching up to grab his own shoulders and squeezing them with as much might as he could muster. Something about it must have gotten through to Ray because he paused in his sobs and looked at Hector, who did his best to smile reassuringly. "Look, it's just- I know we're both freaked out about this, but stressing out and losing our minds isn't gonna help anybody. We need to calm down, okay? Just, take a deep breath or something."

"A deep breath, yeah, okay, I can do that," Ray babbled, and then his massive chest heaved up and down. His breaths were frantic at first, but gradually, he relaxed.

"Feeling better?" Hector asked, and Ray nodded. "Okay good. Now, do you have any clue how this happened?"

"No, I just woke up this morning and I was like this! I had to sneak out the window this morning so my family wouldn't see me–" A panicked expression crossed Ray's face. "Oh no, what am I going to tell my family? I can't go home looking like this!"

"You aren't going to tell them anything, because if we tell them we switched bodies they're going to send us to the loony bin," Hector said firmly, and then he scoffed. "And by the way, looking like that is a goddamn blessing, okay? Show some respect to my body."

"Sorry, it's just–" Ray shuffled uncomfortably and fiddled with his hands, his meek body language looking rather out of place on Hector's hulking body. "I'm not really used to being a big guy like this."

Hector sighed and rubbed at his temples, fighting an oncoming headache. He may be small now, but he was clearly going to have to be the leader in this situation.

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out, okay?" Hector finally said, and Ray nodded in relief. "But until then, we don't do anything to draw attention to ourselves, okay? We just lay low for a while."

Ray smiled with his handsome new face. "Definitely."

Part 2:

Ray was not laying low.

Research into getting their own bodies back was going slowly (Google search results for "men switching bodies" just turned up online erotica) but perhaps it would be going faster if Hector had some help. Unfortunately, Ray was too busy making an ass of himself to pitch in... which normally wouldn't be a problem, except he was using Hector's ass to do it.

See, Ray had realized what Hector had known all along: being hot is fun. After the initial shock of waking up in a different body had faded, Ray had taken stock of what he'd gained in the swap, and he found he liked it.

For one thing, he had pecs now. Pecs. Huge slabs of muscle that jutted out from his chest that jiggled when he jumped up and down. Tight, perfectly formed, and with a pretty brown nipple at the peak of each- he hadn't been able to resist giving them a little squeeze, and he'd nearly fallen down when one of his fingers grazed one of his nipples and it sent shockwaves of pleasures throughout his body. His old sunken chest certainly hadn't been this fun!

And down below those pecs were the abs, which he was really a fan of. As a skinny guy, he'd always had a flat stomach, but he quickly realized there was a difference between having a flat stomach and having a toned stomach. Ray didn't know how many sit ups Hector had done in his lifetime to get those cheese grater abs, but he was glad he'd done them.

Big arms were nice too. Ray had a habit of scratching behind his head and he noticed that every time he did so eyes were always drawn the way his bulging biceps would flex when he lifted them- not that he could blame anyone for staring. It was a beautiful sight! Hector's arms were the part of body that belied his strength the most, almost intimidatingly large, and Ray quickly learned that many situations could be controlled just by crossing his arms and letting the muscles pop out.

The ass had taken a bit of getting used to (there had been several embarrassing incidents where he'd knocked things off of tables because he forgot to account for how much junk was in his new trunk) but Ray had quickly come to embrace it- in fact, he was embracing it often. He loved the feeling of the firm, supple flesh beneath his hands, which was surprisingly soft considering how tough the rest of Hector's body was. It was a proper bubble butt and it became Ray's favorite part to show off, ready to shake at a moment's notice.

And his new dick... Ray knew size wasn't everything, but he wasn't exactly opposed to getting an upgrade in that area. At first he'd been annoyed by the damn thing because it was nearly impossible to hide the bulge it made in his pants, and he felt like all eyes were on him when he was just trying to walk down the street. It wasn't his fault it looked like he was smuggling produce in his shorts!

But he didn't have to be self-conscious, he realized, because people weren't judging him. They were jealous of him. Lusting after him. They wanted what he had, one way or another, and he should be proud of it. So he stopped hunching over, stood up straight, and let everyone see what kind of man he was.

Not to mention the stamina of Hector's body was incredible. His cock was practically spring loaded, jumping to attention at the slightest hint of arousal, and being trapped in Hector's stupidly sexy body meant that Ray experienced that any time he so much as glanced down. He'd managed to hold out for two days before caving and seizing a hold of his manhood and pumping one out– and there was no turning back after that.

That orgasm had opened a floodgate in Ray. He already had a new body, but after that, he felt like a whole new man. And it turned out that man was a bit of a show-off.

While Hector was an outgoing guy, Ray had taken it to another level. He lost his shirt at any opportunity, eager to expose his new treasures to the world, and it was never long until his pants followed as well. It was excessive, but the sight of an adonis like Hector Rivera in his underwear, bulge swinging heavily, was something nobody wanted to complain about.

Invitations to parties and nights out were flooding in– everybody wanted to bring "Hector" along because sooner or later his shirt would come off... and he wasn't shy about letting people feel either. Ray was taking any opportunity he could to flaunt Hector's rippling muscles, and he was having the time of his life doing it.

The real Hector found it infuriating– one because Ray was making everyone in town think that he was an exhibitionist, and two because seeing his body flaunted in his face just reminded him of what he was missing.

If anything Ray was getting a bit too comfortable in Hector's body, which made the real Hector nervous. If Hector did find a way for them to switch back, would he even be able to convince Ray to take it?

Part 3:

"Ray, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Hector shouted, stomping down the driveway towards where Ray was making a display of himself jumping rope. Ray gave him an unimpressed look.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm working out," Ray kept jumping rope, which made his ample chest heave up and down; the sweat on his tan brown skin caught the light and made him glisten. "I wanna keep this body in shape after all."

"Okay, but why are you doing it shirtless in my front yard?" Hector protested, glancing around nervously. A few of his neighbors were milling about, not-so-subtly enjoying the show Ray was putting on for them, and Hector waved at them to look away. "Everyone can see you!"

"So?" Ray shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'll give 'em something to look at. You know your chest bounces, right?"

He sucked in a deep breath and puffed his chest out, creating an impressive sight as his bulging pecs jiggled obscenely with each bounce, and the jump rope dropped the floor while his two hands slid up his body and cupped around his pecs. In full view of everyone he began to squeeze them, and as he did so he smiled fondly down at them like they were beloved pets.

"Stop feeling my body up like that!" Hector hissed, and Ray rolled his eyes but planted his feet on the ground and lifted his hands up, palms open. Hector huffed in relief. "Thank you. Now can we–"

"Sorry, just gotta stretch for a second–" Ray interrupted him, and Hector blinked. Then Ray reached both of his arms back behind his neck, muscles popping as he bared his armpits, and arched his back so his hips thrust forwards like a stripper. Through the thin grey fabric of his sweatpants, it was obvious he wasn't wearing underwear. "Oh shit that feels so good."

He squinted his eyes shut and gave a groan of relief that was louder than strictly necessary that echoed down the street, and a passing car nearly crashed into a stop sign. Ray relaxed to a more normal pose and threw the dazed driver a wave and a wink.

"That keeps happening," he chuckled as he watched the car speed off down the street. Then he threw one muscular arm behind his head, baring a sweaty armpit for the world to see, while the other hand rubbed absently at the six-pack on his belly.

Hector's mouth was wide open in shock at the shameless display before him– what had happened to the shy Ray he knew? Hector's face reddened and he grabbed at Ray's arms, attempting to pull them down and tug the man back towards the house, but with Ray's skinny frame he had no chance of moving his former body even an inch. He gave up and tossed his hands in the air in frustration.

"You've gone mad with power," Hector gasped out.

Ray shook his head and shrugged. "Chill out Hector, I'm just having a little fun."

"You're acting like a cam boy is what you're doing," Hector snapped, crossing his skinny arms and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "It just seems like you're getting a little too cozy in my body... almost like you don't even want to switch back."

Ray's shoulders slumped, and for a second Hector could see a glimpse of the shy guy he was more familiar with.

"Look, for the last time, I didn't do this! I miss my family and I miss my life," Ray sighed, but then shook his head and drew himself back up. "But since it happened, I'm gonna take advantage of it! Do you know what it was like to go from that–" he pointed at his original body. "to this?"

He spread his arms out and spun around, allowing Hector to take in the full view of the body that used to belong to him. Ray hadn't been lying about taking good care of it- perhaps it was just that he was seeing himself from the outside now, but Hector's body looked better than it had in his entire life.

"I went from being a beanpole to having B-cup tits and an ass you could balance a latte on!" Ray reached out to the side and flexed one of his arms, the toned muscle rising into a small mountain. "Your arms are wider than my neck! And your abs are probably harder than my bones." He tittered with excitement, but then his smile softened. "Getting to be you has been incredible and I just... I wanted to enjoy it. But I'm not evil Hector, if you find a solution, I'll give you your body back. Until then though? I'm gonna enjoy every second of it."

Hector frowned. His time in Ray's body, robbed of all of his physical advantages, had been quite a bad time for him, and Ray had to live with that all the time. Could he really blame the little guy for going a bit over the top?

"Okay, I'm still mad at you for acting like a whore," Hector chastised, and he watched Ray shrink before him, which was comforting in a way. Even with their bodies switched, they were still the same guys inside. "BUT, I get it. You officially have my blessing to have a little bit of fun- while we look for a solution;"

"Really? Thanks Hector!" Ray smiled, yanking the other man into a bone crushing hug. Hector winced in pain, but returned the embrace with good faith. "Tell you what, why don't we go research how to switch back right now, okay? Just let me wash off first."

Ray released Hector and then grabbed the hose from off the ground and lifted it to his face, spraying the water dramatically into his face and shaking out his hair. Water cascaded across his nearly naked body, falling like a waterfall from his pecs and trickling through the ridges created by his abs.

Hector swallowed. "Any chance you can do it less... sexually?"

"Nope."

[smalljxnnie]

⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝

ׂ ֢ ⠀𔓕 glimpses of your reaction about the first meet/union with your future spouse/partner 𔓘 ׂ ֢

⏜ ︵⊹︵ ⏜ ︵ ୨୧︵ ⏜ ︵⊹︵ ⏜

01. 02.

03. 04.

˒🌷៸៸ ꒰ disclaimer ୨୧ ⋆

All of the images was collected and saved through pinterest. Take all everything as grain of salt as no one can really truly predict the future. Any resonated results are purely product of the current energy. Every option for each pile are from left to right.

˒ 🌷 ៸៸ ꒰ copyright ୨୧ ⋆

All right reserved by smalljxnnie 2023. Do not copy, re-publish, transmit, and exploit this reading in any way. Please do obtain permission of the creator. Any infringement of copyright are punishable by the law.

Pile 1

Aura: reconciliation - unrequited love - deception - past life relationship

It seemed the aura is about past; a past life lover and soulmate and for few an ex. You have known each other before or either of you have know the one. The first meet and relationship seemed not to be ready for the both of you leading for breaking up or parting ways. It might be as well the spark isn't enough to create friction of attraction and it is imbalance. As of now, the universe each one needing to be healing from the past to move forward, it may taking it for a long time. When the time has come, the love you will share with one another is genuine. The past will be the lesson which can help you out for understanding the missing puzzles of attraction and relationship.

Your reaction about the union: 3 of wands

You seemed to be confident about this meeting and you are fully aware that this is the one; your future spouse/partner. You will be like, this is the person I want to have for the rest of my life, to spend and create memories; either be bad and good.

Their reaction about the union: The empress

You are a marriage (partner) material for this person. In meeting you, they do love you deeply and unconditionally. They are grateful that finally they have found the person they want to end up with and is confident about it as well. This person is attracted to you in physical and sexual sense.

The place you actually meeting them: clover - scythe

In places of a greenery land, a large field, planting garden, store for plants and seeds, farmlands, a casino, junk shop, kitchen tools section/stores, dental clinic.

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Pile 2

Aura: free yourself - chemistry - getting to know each other

Either one or both has been free about something or to someone which it seemed to create chemistry to attract your partner. The universe represents you an award from battling your emotions and freeing yourself from the past. Then they give you gift of romantic partner and to experience the great passion of romance in your life. Upon meeting this person, you feel the love and attraction you may not feel from the past. It create a butterflies of sensation which able you to feel drawn about the person. This aura almost share same feelings and in pretty much in common and the universe is offering each other the new affair of romance to embark.

Your reaction about the union: 4 of cups

You fear about taking a risk or doesn't fully absorb the idea of this is the person you are going to end up with. Your mind probably occupied by something else to the point you doesn't really recognize what is the universe presenting you. You are not yet ready for the enter of this person in your life, -you might still stuck from the past. Also your partner is the first one who will reach you out however you will never paid attention for it because your mind is for something or even someone else. And here they are offering their love for you but actually ignoring it.

Their reaction about the union: 6 of cups

They deeply drawn in you and you remind them something very familiar perhaps they meet you before but actually doesn't remember it probably bcz you are soulmates or even in meet you in dreams or you look similar to someone that they have good memories with. Your person, don't fear to show how much they like you and how happy they are to meet you.

The place you actually meeting them: letter - tree - star

Mail office, online messaging app, school and university (office), healthcare facilities, worship places, garden, forest, organic shop products, in north place, a place of stargazing, in night, dark sky, star decorations store?

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Pile 3

Aura: true love - attraction - honeymoon - wedding

Wow, having genuine love for one another is such a goal. This is an honest interaction and conversation with each other and you fall deep in love. The kind of love that would never be die and is alive eternally. You have smell the sweetest fragrance of love in above all and this is the best gift you ever be receiving in your life. Happiness and laughter come and join to dominate you each: together. In this life, you are happily grateful to attract your truest love of all; the attraction that create spark and connect all the pictures of promising future. You may have a honeymoon first before tying a knot or enjoying the bliss of holidays with one another before the marriage.

Your reaction about the union: 3 of wands

You are confident that this is your person and you envision your future with them perhaps see them in your dreams before you actually meet them. And you have find the right person to work with and to company along the side for the rest of your life. You believe that this is the person you would want to grow and make memories together.

Their reaction about the union: 10 of cups

They know you are their behalf and their person forever. Life's would not be empty anymore as you are on their side and wanted to see you frequently, whenever they come home. They see you are perfect to build a family and home with, you are someone who is spouse/partner material and they are grateful to have find you.

The place you actually meeting them: clouds - mountain - stork - ring

In places of airport, airplane, your flight, mountains, nursery, high places, jewelry or gift shop, wedding, engagement.

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Pile 4

Aura: past life relationship - wedding - healing family issues

This person is your lover or soulmate from your past life. You share lots of things from the past however even though it last, the love remains in inner self of each other. In this life, you are destined to be bond with one another and share the same feelings and attraction like it is new. Either one or both of you are somewhat dealing with family issues that need to solve before the union cuz if doesn't resolved it before tying a knot, it will somewhat affect the marriage life/ living together. It takes time to forgive someone and what they do have done with you but someday you realize that forgiveness is the key for all.

Your reaction about the union: wheel of fortune

Your reaction is like this is my person and the one that I will spend the rest of your life, and that this is your soulmate. You feeling it deeply that they are yor partner. In all of the people, you are lucky to have and meet them in your life, you believe that you are meant to be for each other.

Their reaction about the union: hierophant

Your partner reaction is like "that person is the perfect one to be a role model of being a partner". You are suited as someone marriage/partner material for this person and would want to end up being with you. They are assured about you and how you would bring stability into their life, their love and intentions about you is all pure. They would believe that you are someone good to be with and they want to deepen the connection for each other.

The place you actually meeting them:

In places of church, sacred place, near cross/altar, near doorway/gate, keychain store, junk shop, casino, plant and seed shop, greenery area, large/apartment building, shopping malls, office, school, university and military places, capital place.

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[bonefall]

Bones Bones Bonesss wc Star full book spoilers already out in the wild (forums)......... Looking forward to your thoughts when it officially comes out (or whenever!) cause. I will not say. But ohhhhhh it sure was a book............ :33

You know I'll also be doing a full read when I get my grubby paws on a copy, but I do have some strong feelings assuming that the leaks are totally accurate!

The no-spoiler version of my opinion; BOY this ending is a stinker. This arc truly was a blundering mess of lost potential and wasted time. As someone who still feels the first few books were STRONG setups, from 3 onwards I feel like I've been watching a train run out of track and derail in a slow, pitiful fashion.

It's not even a FAST trainwreck. The ending was predictable insofar as they clearly had no good climax or message in mind. Infact it's kind of a marvel how utterly bloodless this arc was, and how any violence they DID show came out of left field because they failed to build up to it.

HOWEVER. I am not just a reader, I'm a scavenger. This stuff is GREAT for BB. The ending gave me the most important pieces I need, and now I know how BB!ASC is going to rework it.

But I'll not get ahead of myself; quickly, I'll just talk raw first impressions of the spoilers.

(As always, take this with a grain of salt and the knowledge that the spoilers may be incorrect. Opinions may change once I read the book myself.)

Splashstar is a garbage villain. He is absolutely bottom-tier for me.

His "amorality" comes out of nowhere and quite frankly he reads like a Chick Tract Evil Atheist.

I don't get how people can accept the way the characters call him "manipulative" when his plots are utterly brainless.

He is the type of naunceless evil that makes me want to hurl. Splash reads like a writer trying to "repeat" the evil of Tigerstar without any of the intelligence of early TPB.

Tigerstar was a RESPECTED warrior. He leveraged his standing in the Clan to secretly carry out his assassinations and forge alliances. He was established strong to begin with.

Splash is like cat-18 and able to kill-no-miss strong warriors with his Evil Jump, and then keeps the Clan in line by holding his siblings hostage.

It makes me not understand how he has ANY followers, because he has no consistent ideology or rhetoric.

Anything they did use (like claiming he'd make the Clans strong and saying tigerheartstar wanted to take over the whole forest or whatever) isn't consistent because they failed to establish these over the SIX BOOKS THEY HAD.

It feels like he was only a legitimate threat for like 2 out of 6 books

And then he's dead in chapter 13. Halfway through the story. Incredibly lame.

I want to reserve my judgement on the Frostpaw vs Splashstar battle, but it's absurd on its face. Harelight went down in 1 hit but Frostpaw musters all her strength to use his move and overcome him?

I have to see it first before I conclude if it's something I want to salvage though. Sometimes fights just come across better when you're reading them.

But on the note of battles, it's frustrating how bloodless this arc was. We started off with tigerHeartstar invading and occupying RiverClan-- yet we're looking at a total body count of 5, with one heart attack and one illness.

And speaking of deaths.

Whoever decided to give Berryheart a redemption death should get offscreen greencough.

UTTER shite. You have this whole arc with radicalization as a major theme, show Berryheart trying to brutally murder her in-law with a snake, grabbing at power desperately to the point where she CHANGED CLANS to be Splash's deputy, and decide that her ideal ending is "she would die for her baby :(((("???

Ffffuuuuuck yoouuuuuuuuuuuu

This is why we can't have good, nuanced villains, these writers trip over themselves the MINUTE they have a sad parent. It could never actually STAY about power or politics, they cant allow a parent to truly be willing to sacrifice their child for their own ends.

No matter how badly or violently they treated you, They're Still Your Parent. Hogwash. I'm sick to death of this thought-terminating cliche.

Being a parent does NOT automatically mean they'd die for you. They already did this earlier with Curlfeather, and the absolute insult it is to the theme of radicalization aside, having Berryheart repeat that sacrifical death cheapens hers.

Now it's not that CURLFEATHER is the one who would never go so far as to allow her daughter to die for her own ends, contrasting Berryheart. It's Just What Moms Do.

And furthermore if they were going to do a "redemption death," it REALLY sucks that they decided to have Berryheart refuse to kill Yarrowleaf and not FRINGEWHISKER.

It's not even indicative of GROWTH or RECONSIDERING HER BELIEFS or anything. She won't kill her SISTER.

It might have meant something to have a chance for revenge and refuse it, but nooooo. Yarrowleaf. My god. Yarrowleaf.

and don't @ me about Yarrow being ex-kin, they both joined and rejected it at different times.

All that said...

There are some things I like here!

Frostdawn and Whistlebreeze getting their names at the same time was really sweet. I like them a lot.

Sometimes a predictable choice is the right one. Icewing becoming leader is a good move. Icestar my beloved.

I'm personally excited to get to Icey's leadership ceremony in my own rewrite, the canon one was as fanservice-wanky as you'd expect of modern arcs but I LOVE rewriting those.

Though I would have preferred Froststar, I'm ok with this.

The fracturing of RiverClan is a great move. I love the idea of there being a mass exodus following these events. It's wild we haven't gotten that before.

While I bemoan the awful politics and lack of setup, I do LIKE the idea on paper of there being "ex-Splash Supporters" to cause problems in future arcs. Not that these writers know what setup and payoff is, but hey, more for me.

I liked the sort of desperate feel of Frostpaw being exhausted in StarClan and deciding if she wants to go back or not. Im a little iffy on how much other cats PRESSURE her, though.

I need to read the chapters myself but I fear that it might not read like her own choice, but another thing that she's being forced into.

Shut UP Tree why are you HEREEE

The part where they all point out that without her, RiverClan wont have a holy messenger and that's bad, fits the consistent way the writers try to portray StarClan as a good thing when they're really not... but.

I think it would have made a fascinating moment for Frosty to realize that SHE is the one who really holds the power in this situation. What spirituality is going to look like in the future of her Clan is in HER paws now.

They are absolutely going to toss this potential away, but I guess the things I like most about the ending are the ways it kinda softly threatens the status quo.

The fracture of RC and the exodus of cats, Frostpaw deciding she will return and fix RiverClan, Icestar accepting help from the other Clans to fix the camp...

It's not ALL bad, it's just that the negatives outweigh the positives and this is exactly the kind of ending I feared. I hope that this isn't just a tease of a change to the status quo, but I've learned to not get my hopes up.

And, lastly, Owlnose deputy and Nightheart's ending chapter are just straight up beyond parody. I can't even be mad, they're such bad moves they're funny to me at this point.

[extremely-judgemental]

Cassian is ugly and his arc is messier. The more you look into his past and his chemistry/dynamic with other characters, his behaviour doesn’t corroborate with his words, and it becomes harder to see him as the goofy, sunshine guy SJM wants us to believe.

(response to this by @flat-neines. I agree with everything you pointed out and I didn’t want to hijack your post, so here we are. This has been in my drafts for months and I didn’t have the mental capacity to put them in a coherent order, and it’s a LOT (also because I didn’t want to dedicate another post to this mf, really). So, have an open mind and take it with a grain of salt. If anyone doesn’t want another long rant, you should read that one lol.)

Cassian is devoted to Rhysand.

For a bastard who’s constantly dismissed in his life, Rhysand is the first one to give him the validation he craves. Of all the boys, he was the chosen one and his life turned around when he was basically adopted (I’m not gonna repeat this again, you can read it here). Because of this, he is more loyal to Rhysand than his people, his title, his armies, or even his court.

Cassian doesn’t see Azriel as his equal.

He’s been enjoying this new life for a whole year and only befriends Rhysand after Azriel comes into the picture. They both are bastards. They both are underprivileged. Cassian’s unwarranted aggression towards an already abused boy, who doesn’t know how to fly or fight, outside their training can imply that he saw him as a threat to his status with Rhysand. So, he put him in his place.

There are two other instances where his sense of superiority comes through. First, in the dinner scene in MAF where he boasts about giving Azriel hell and he doesn’t hesitate to share about his captivity. There’s no emotional cue in the conversation that indicates he truly feels bad for either of those. Morrigan has to interrupt the guy who is supposedly emotionally so capable of reading the room that he gets Feyre’s trauma during their training better than anyone and ‘knows’ what Nesta needs to heal.

Second during Eris’s seduction in SF. Cassian is jealous only when Eris is dancing with Nesta. Azriel can keep up with her too, but he isn’t bothered by it. It’s dismissed because they are friends and he trusts his friend. But Cassian’s insecurity is that he’s a brute through and through and it’s why Nesta sees him as less than. And Azriel is well-mannered compared to him in every way. He’s polite, he sings and dances, and also he has a way with people which is noted in his interactions with the Archeron sisters and the priestesses. But his mannerisms don’t bring out these fears in Cassian. (Insecurities don’t understand if you’re their friend or foe.)

If, instead of being a bastard, Azriel had been a true son of a lord, their dynamic would’ve been so different. 

Cassian doesn’t love Morrigan.

Both are bastards, but Morrigan, the second woman he encounters in his life, is drawn to Azriel and not him. Cassian knows Azriel longer, he knows how much he’s been deprived of love, and he knows his reservations around people. He still chooses to hurt him and only realises his mistake when he sees the look on his face, but he already knew his brother is in love. The reason that makes sense is Morrigan validates him by sleeping with him, proves that he isn’t at the bottom of the pyramid, there’s someone else beneath him—Azriel. Once he got that, he moved on. It’s why he’s not bothered by her endless partners which clearly affects Azriel. Which is why he still flirts with her because he doesn’t regret it.

And now, he still doesn’t love Morrigan. He’s infatuated with the idea of the 17-year old big-eyed girl who saw him as a saviour. With the sexual element thrown in, she became the standard against which other women in his life are measured.

Cassian doesn’t want a mate.

His dream is to have children—not specifically a mate—so that he can be a better father. He only mentions ‘mate’ because he knows he has one. Mating bonds are rare and the one he witnesses is the worst of the ‘mating bond gone wrong’ cases with Rhysand’s parents. His desire for a mate is not as woven into his identity as it is for Azriel. He wants a woman to bear his children—like the other Illyrians, and for him, it’s convenient that she’s already chosen. Even without a mate, Cassian would have settled with any woman as long as he could parent someone. This also shows in the way he treats Nesta. If he yearned for such a bond, he wouldn’t disrespect it as much as he did and definitely wouldn’t prioritise Rhysand over it.

The second bond he witnesses is between Rhysand and Feyre. Since he doesn’t know what happened UtM, all he sees is Feyre knowing the ‘bad guy’ act and still falling in love with his best friend, Feyre supporting him and going along with his every decision. Given how Cassian idolises him, he wants to replicate their relationship even to the point of breaking Nesta to his will. He wants someone to be his Feyre.

His treatment of Nesta in SF is more than his loyalty to Rhysand. The first and only woman to nurture him is Rhysand’s mother. She took him in, fed him, clothed him, educated him. She cared for him in ways his mother should have and couldn’t. Cassian wants an amalgamation of Rhysand’s mother (the ideal mother for his children) and young Morrigan (his dream standard). But he’s stuck with Nesta who is neither ‘motherly’ to anyone nor does she admire him. When Cassian says ‘he’s shackled to her’, he means it. So, he moulds her into someone who is in awe of him, puts him on a pedestal, and makes him feel like a superior male.

Cassian’s arc is fake and forced.

The beginning of SF is quite strong with Cassian doubting himself. He is a War General and yet he struggles to earn the respect of his people because of his status. He’s thrust into the role of a courtier and he questions himself more and more as he’s not a high-born, nor is he trained to handle such diplomatic situations. 

Cassian is no Jon Snow.

His insecurities stem from the fact that he’s a bastard born to an unnamed father. It’s rooted in his core identity. However, Cassian’s situation is not so unique. Of course, he lost his mother because of his birth and that’s an incomparable trauma but it’s also common among his people who breed women. Every boy is thrown into the camps and trained, and only rightful ones are allowed in the Blood Rite. They don’t even live with their families and the only exception is Rhysand. Not to dismiss his trauma, but his insecurity falls flat and undermines the narrative when we factor in Illyrian culture.

All this could have been fixed if Cassian had tried to earn the respect of his people instead of the courtiers who were never going to anyway. Though he’s a War General, he doesn’t share camaraderie with his soldiers, he doesn’t live with them, and he has no respect for them. He does nothing to change his own beliefs or prove to others that he's more than a bastard. Instead, he uses a ‘you have no right to judge me’ attitude while constantly looking for approval everywhere.

Instead of addressing it where it counts, he’s comparing himself with Lucien and Eris, but not Vassa (a human queen) and Jurian (a renowned human War general). Why does an Illyrian who yearns for respect from his people compete with a select few who are only high fae and are of royal blood?

Nesta is his cure-all.

There’s one instance that truly marks Cassian’s supposed growth—where he sees his real ‘worth’—when Nesta admires him for his wits and apologises. In the same conversation, he admits his act was inspired by her. This is meant to be a ‘We make each other better’ moment but it fails miserably as Cassian spends the entire book tearing her down. He shows little to no concern for her wishes or needs. He assaults her in her room, stalks her, dismisses the bargain, and coerces her into an imbalanced relationship. For someone who cares so little about Nesta and her opinion of him, his fears being wiped out in a single conversation is laughable. For someone who doesn't believe he's smart, he sure seemed quite smug about outdoing an evil witch instead of it being pointed out by others and coming to the realisation being a bastard has nothing to do with being a hero.

(This could also be seen as his jealousy which leads him to fuel her self-loathing and fears so that Nesta never realises she deserves better than him. Which is quite similar to what he does with Azriel. The only ones he allows to surpass him are Rhysand, Feyre by extension, and Morrigan since he already got what he wanted from her.)

On the other hand, the one whose validation he truly seeks is Rhysand. Cassian's inner monologues clearly suggest his attempt at embodying him during the different meetings. Despite this imitation, he says the aforementioned to Nesta which can only be seen as a manipulation tactic.

I don’t even think this conflict was even in the OG Cassian character. SJM slapped it on him just for SF because it’s convenient and he needs an arc in his book. But she doesn’t want to fix Illyria or even give it a spotlight, so she stuck with Cassian trying to beat Eris. His insecurities aren’t even resolved. He still hasn’t come to terms with him being a bastard. His healing requires acceptance from himself first and also deep self-reflection. Nesta is only a supply for his ego and an emotional punching bag. Honestly, Cassian disgusts me more than Rhysand.