#they cant sell this feeling on the streets

[boardboxes]

crying real tears.. my friend loved the book i recommended her

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Initial vibes of my new job based on first day: this place (at least the manager. Probably also the company but they are still a Company) cares about its employees 10000x more than my last job. Which might not be a hard achievement but it's a nice change 😭 it's much less anxiety inducing to work in a kitchen that is making a good profit bc I don't have to feel like every crumb is worth an hour's salary AND no one called me the quiet one!!!!! I hate being The Quiet One but I am always The Quiet One but no one called me quiet!!!

[oh-no-its-bird]

Kakashi Anastasia AU. Specifically bc I started listening to once upon a december on loop, oops

But umm. Anastasia AU. Taking place in a weird mix of old Russia and old Japan with little to no shinobi presence. The Hatake house was once this great, powerful clan that ruled over Iron Country, till a man (stuck between Danzo or Madara— tho also Orochimaru could make for a funny Rasputin) swore to tear them down from their lofty position

Eventually pretty much the entire clan is killed and or scattered, and in the chaos Sakumo and Kakashi manage to escape the palace but are separated. Years pass and the political climate has chilled the fuck out, and while the Hatake's are no longer in charge, Sakumo remains in a position of relative wealth and power

Kakashi, meanwhile, who was a child at the time of the upheaval, has grown up and no longer remembers his father or anything of his former life— he doesn't even remember his previous name, going instead by Sukea.

But there's a rumor on the streets, that somehow Kakashi had survived. And that his father would pay his weight in gold to see him again

And so between markets selling old Hatake belongings stolen from the palace, Rin and Obito strike up a plan to find themselves a Kakashi look alike, train him to the part, and present him as the "real" Kakashi— all for the reward.

And they find the perfect Kakashi in the shape of one street boy named Sukea

So I'm typing this out and I cant lie, I'm a bit torn between Kakashi as our Anastasia or Sakumo. I think both could make for pretty interesting stories, so lets just do both, actually. For fun.

Kakashi as Anastasia

So like I said, Rin and Obito as Dimitri and Vladimir.

They're scrappy street conmen, and their latest great idea to get the hell out of their shitty situation called life is to make themselves a 'Kakashi' to present to Sakumo and hopefully get the big reward.

This plan sounds pretty shitty, but they have one big advantage— Obito and Rin both actually used to work in the palace, and were there the night the Hatake's fell. In fact, that night Obito actually helped Kakashi and Sakumo both escape through one of the hidden servants halls, set into the wall as a false wall. So he came out of that night knowing how they'd escaped and also holding onto a music box that belonged to Kakashi, which he'd dropped.

Obito's big plan is to use the music box to prove his Kakashi is the real one, as presumably only the real one would have it, especially since he'd had it on that fateful night (till he dropped it anyways)

So, Rin and Obito find Sukea, and they're like "oh man this is perfect, you have the hair and everything!" and Sukea is like "??? who are you people leave me the fuck alone???"

And the thing is, they dont like. Want to tell Sukea they want him to pretend to be Kakashi, bc he'd say no. But they have an advantage bc Sukea just so happens to have a very poor memory of his childhood, is an orphan, and is about the right age! So they instead just begin to gaslight him into believing he really is Kakashi

After a couple roadblocks, this works,,, surprisingly well, actually.

Anyways just Rin, Obito and Sukea road trip to fire country to reunite Sukea with his maybe dad, Sakumo

Over the course of getting there, little bits and pieces of his childhood begins to come back to Sukea. Helped along, ofc, by Obito and Rin feeling his own history to him.

And ofc as Rin and Obito are feeding him this information he's going "omg its all coming back to me,, I remember that guy,, I also remember (thing they never told him about)"

And they're looking nervously at each other like "??? did you tell him that?? I didn't tell him that"

and Sukea is taking to their lessons incredibly easily (almost like he really did this all as a kid, wow how impressive)

And at this point also just, have fun w the Hatake lore. Really get in there, there's a great excuse of Rin and Obito teaching him about his families history.

Uhh fun scene of Obito teaching Sukea to ballroom dance,,,, Rin is playing music for them as Kakashi takes to it like a fish to water, quickly outpacing Obito. Rin is giving a side eye at the romantic tension between them as Obito gets way too flustered as Sukea teases him ab who there is the real dance instructor

It's around this time that Sukea really does become Kakashi, even in his own mind

They arrive in fire country !!!

Obito and Rin are both starting to feel uhh,, a bit of guilt for having so thoroughly gaslit Sukea into thinking he's Kakashi, especially as when they arrive, they are hearing rumors of how there are plenty of other fake Kakashi's hounding Sakumo.

And like. Oh man, if their Kakashi is caught as a fake it'll probably fucking crush him. They've convinced this man that he's going to meet his long-lost father.

But also, hey, if they get him in, everyone's happy, right? Sukea gets a father, Sakumo gets a son, Rin and Obito get their money!

And then they'll split ways. And that's fine. Obito is so fine about that. There's no reason at all why he'd feel bad about having to split up from Kakashi now, like, at all. In the slightest. Shut the fuck up Rin.

(Obito might be starting to catch a feeling or two and its just all a mess. It's a slow moving car crash and they're in too deep to back out now)

So they approach Sakumo— or try to, anyways. Seeing as he's, yk, the last standing Hatake, important guy, all that, they don't get very far. But they do manage to get an audience with one of his servants. Who for this we're going to say is uhhhhhhh

throwing a dart at a board here, yk what? Dan. Sakumo's trusted second in this au is gonna be Dan, Tsunade's dead boyfriend. Good for him.

So they get an audience with Dan, and Obito and Rin are like "omg look its the REAL Kakashi !!!!" and Dan is like "yeah thats what the last 10 "real Kakashi's" all said."

But he starts asking Kakashi questions, ab his history, all that, and it's going pretty well. Kakashi has remembered a lot of this, and had a lot more of it trained into him by Rin and Obito— who are, by the way, also in the room and sweating bullets as the interrogation happens.

But then Dan asks the final question. How did Kakashi get out of the palace that fateful day.

And Obito is like oh fuck I didn't tell him that one. But it's too late, bc Kakashi is thinking it over, and finally Kakashi goes,

"there was this boy,,, and he,, opened up a wall, I think. For us to escape through."

Which, again, Obito never told anyone about.

So Obito is like [incredibly loud 10 car pile up noises] oh FUCK this is THE ACTUAL KAKASHI

but he cant say shit bc the interview is ongoing and hey, good news, they passed!! Dan will go tell Sakumo he has (another) Kakashi here to see him.

So as they wait, Kakashi wanders off for some fresh air and Obito tells Rin what he realized, and Rin is like, oh my GOD????? Oh fuck, we ,,, actually found his family. Obito, we actually found the Hatake heir

and Obito is like I KNOW!!!

and Rin is like Obito, we FOUND THE ACTUAL HATAKE HEIR !!!!!

And Obito is like I KNOW !!!!!!!!!!!

So they're freaking the FUCK out but then Kakashi comes back in and they have to pretend like they weren't hyperventilating 2 seconds ago while Kakashi kinda side eyes them and goes "damn, and I thought I was nervous about this"

So. They are allowed to see Sakumo.

Specifically, Obito is allowed to see Sakumo while Rin and Kakashi wait outside in the hallway.

So Obito is brought in by Dan, whos like,

"hey boss, this is uhh—"

"Uchiha Obito"

"This is Uchiha Obito, he claims to have found Kakashi."

and Sakumo, who is hella depressed and totally sick of this shit, is like "oh great, another one."

and Obito is like, "omg ur uhh. Highness. Majesty. Sir Hatake. Fuck."

And Sakumo is looking at him, very visibly unimpressed, and it's really not helping Obito's nerves right now.

So Obito tries to make his case but Sakumo is frankly just not hearing it— he's seen so many fake Kakashi's and he's just. So tired. He wants to be left alone. His son is dead, he's given up hope.

And suddenly Sakumo is squinting and going, wait what was your name again?

And when Obito tells him, Sakumo is snorting and going "yeah bitch, I've heard of you. Werent you holding auditions for a good person to play Kakashi?"

and Obito kind of bluescreens and is like, "I mean— Yes, but— Listen, you dont understand, this is the real Kakashi!"

And Sakumo is like "Yeah, sure he is kid. I bet you trained him real nice and authentic too. Bet he's very impressive. Get the fuck outta here."

And Dan pushes him out of the room— straight into Kakashi. Who heard everything and has made some pretty damn logical assumptions, and is now totally devastated

So Kakashi Rin and Obito (but mostly Kakashi and Obito) get into a shouting match as Kakashi is just. Devastated. So what, Obito and Rin have been using him this entire time? It was all a lie? They never really thought he was Kakashi, they just played into his vulnerability and desire to know his family, because they wanted the reward money?

And Obito and Rin both are trying to say no, they promise— Or well, at first, but you have to hear them out, he's the real deal!

But they're tripping over their words in their panic and Kakashi— Sukea —isn't hearing it. Isn't interested.

Sukea stomps off, leaving a totally devastated Obito and Rin and a pretty awkward Dan, who just kinda stood by and watched this all happen like "damn, tough luck"

But it's not over yet, Obito and Rin both refuse to let it be over yet. So Rin distracts Dan as Obito proceeds to car jack Sakumo when he goes to leave the opera house this whole thing went down at.

And Sakumo is like "I will literally fucking kill you. Pull the car over NOW." as Obito is absolutely terrified for his life but more determined than ever (and just praying the glass between him and Sakumo protects his ass)

And they finally get to the hotel Kakashi and them had been staying at, and Obito slams the door open and is like "LOOK—"

Sakumo punches him in the face.

Obito is pretty sure his nose just shattered.

Obito tries again, through the blood and pain, with a now harder to understand but no less determined, "LOOK—"

His nonstop determination to be a fucking maniac is impressing Sakumo just a little bit by now, so he decides to see what this loser has to say.

Obito gives Sakumo the music box he picked up from the palace way back in the beginning of all of this, and begs him to just see Kakashi. And Sakumo, sick and tired of all of this but genuinely shaken by the reappearance of his son's music box... agrees.

So! Sakumo heads upstairs to where Kakashi is very angrily packing his shit up, getting ready to haul his ass back to Iron Country, alone. And he knocks on the door and Kakashi shouts at him to go the FUCK AWAY, OBITO !!!! HE DOESNT WANT TO SEE YOUR LYING BITCH ASS EVER AGAIN !!!!!!

And Sakumo is like, "well. You have the attitude to play my son, at least."

And Kakashi freezes and is like, "oh my god Im— Im so sorry. Oh fuck, Im so sorry, why are you here, I— I'm sorry, this is a waste of you time, I never meant to pretend to be your son, I just wanted to know who I was"

And Sakumo just kind of watches him as Kakashi keeps talking, apologizing, cursing Obito and Rin's names both, trying to explain he had no idea that this was supposed to be a con, refusing not to even look at Sakumo.

Kakashi just keeps talking till Sakumo finally interrupts, admitting, "I have to say, you are the most convincing actor I've seen so far."

Kakashi kind of blanks.

They talk.

Kakashi shares things he remembers. Sakumo listens. He tries not to hope, he tries so hard not to hope, but he can't help the feeling that wells up inside of him each passing moment that Kakashi speaks.

This entire time, Kakashi has had a necklace. It's nothing too special; he likes to fidget with it sometimes. He's had it as long as he can remember. It's now, that Sakumo notices it. Asks him what it is.

"What, this?" Kakashi looks at the necklace, which he genuinely forgets he has sometimes. "I've had it since.... forever, I guess."

Sakumo shows him the music box, and immediately, Kakashi knows what to do.

The necklace fits into the music box's lock like it was made to be there. Probably because it was.

Kakashi looks at Sakumo with the same painfully hopeful eyes, the same expression of 'Was this it? Did I do it right?' that he used to aim at his father whenever he learned something new.

Sakumo crumbles.

So!!! Reuinion time !!!! Kakashi and Sakumo both cry, it's a big messy thing, they are very happy. Tears and emotional vulnerability all around.

Rin finally makes it home, looking a little ruffled from some presumed off screen fight between her and some security guards, but fine over all. She approaches Obito, gasping out an urgent, "How did it go?"

Obito doesn't even look at her, only nods up towards the second story window. "Look for yourself."

Rin follows his gaze, greeted with the sight of father in son hugging each other like they were scared the other would disappear if they loosened their grip so much as a single fraction.

"Oh." Rin says, torn between awe and relief.

"Oh." Obito echoes, feeling about the same way.

Later that week, Obito is called in to accept his reward money. He's already discussed it with Rin, and they both agreed— they can't accept it. It... doesn't feel right.

Sakumo is surprised. Impressed, even. He walks Obito out and they pass by Kakashi, who is like, "well have a GREAT life, Obito. With all your stupid REWARD MONEY, since that's all you ever REALLY wanted!"

And Obito doesn't argue, doesn't deny it, just leaves. Figuring it's the best thing he can do for Kakashi. But as he goes, Sakumo turns to Kakashi and is like "yeah so he didnt accept the money lmao"

Kakashi blue screens.

"He,,, didn't accept,,, the money?" Then, what was this all for? What the fuck? Kakashi, above all else, finds himself really fucking mad.

So what. Obito and Rin trick him, lies to him, brings him here under false pretenses that... end up not being so false, if only by chance. Then they have the gall to NOT accept their reward, to return home in defeat, abandoning Kakashi here, like cowardly little BITCHES

Long story short: Kakashi chases after Obito in the street. It's a very busy street, they have a large audience— not that either of them seem to care.

There is screaming. There may be a punch thrown. Possibly two.

In the mess of it all, someone kisses the other. It's unclear who starts it, but the next thing Kakashi knows there are lips on his, teeth clicking angrily against his teeth as they swap from fighting with their fists to fighting in a much less effective way.

When Kakashi drags Obito back inside, his father doesn't look as surprised as Kakashi feels like he should.

Umm then they all lived happily ever after, the end <3

I ended up not really using a Rasputin character for this, which tbh Im ok with. I think the more down to earth take is kinda fun in itself, so I'll stick to it.

Anyways. On the flip side:

Sakumo as Anastasia

I think Sakumo could make a particularly interesting Anastasia in part due to his age. Because where Kakashi is this young man, honestly still probably like 18/19 year old guy, reuniting with his dad, learning about his past, all of that good stuff— Sakumo is in his early 30's, a whole grown man with a child, doing the same thing.

There's no cap on how old you can be to learn about your past or rediscover yourself, and I think Sakumo would make a fun Anastasia for that alone.

Also it's an excuse to use his mother in a plot, lmao

Sakumo has already had Kakashi, so he's like lugging around his 5 year old son with him this entire adventure, which is fun for the both of them.

I think the sanin would make for a very funny Dimitri and Vladimir. It's Jiriyah and Tsunade leading the charge on this excellent get rich quick scheme, Orochimaru is along for the ride

I spent so long on Kakashi as Anastasia, I kind of don't want to go too in depth with a Sakumo as Anastasia au, but like. It could be fun. Obviously, it'd hit p much all the same beats— this is one of those easy AUs that follow the original story pretty much one to one, tho idk if Sakumo's route would include any romance like Kakashi's did

Uhh, Sakumo/Orochimaru anyone I guess? I do love that pairing, it is true

Anyways now I'm watching this and this compellations of Dimitri, picturing him as Obito, Vladimir as Rin, and Anya as Sukea/Kakashi and having way too much fun giggling about it

Final thoughts: Anastasia is an excellent movie, you should watch it.

[reaperexe]

Coffee?

Summary : When a bad drink causes misunderstandings and sacrifices of taste buds.

warnings : tooth rotting fluff

He knew he was running late and to soften the blow of your anger he decided to grab a coffee. the new coffee shop across the street looked pricey but it was his best option if he didn't wanna be any more late to meet you.

As he walked into the unfamiliar place and stood in front of the bored barista he decided to just order the new launch coffee. the barista busied herself with the order as he pulled out his phone and texted you a quick sorry message and you quickly replying with a 'its ok get here safe' to which he visibly blushed.

The barista rang up his order with a bill that costed as much as his groceries for two days. he grabbed the two brown drinks and rushed to library.

He entered the library and looked around to see you quietly studying in the corner with your books splayed out. He felt guilty approaching you but as soon as your eyes fell on him, a familiar warmth spread through him at your smile.

"Here i got this for you" He says sliding a cup your way as he sat down next to you. "Coffee?" You question taking the warm cup in your hands.

He takes a sip from the mug the hot liquid, scalding, burning his tongue temporarily till the overly sweet taste settles on his tongue and he grimaces at the taste.

You too take a sip of the drink, the sweet taste making it hard for you to not visibly cringe as you turn to him to ask him the contents of the drink trying to sound as polite and nice as possible.

He holds back as you ask, assuming you liked the drink and tries his best to remember its contents, he curses himself for not being thrown off by the four pumps of vanilla while ordering.

He explains to you how it was a limited edition drink, the way he explains it makes you feel bad for disliking the drink thinking he had liked it and wanted you to try it.

"Like it?" He asks at the end and that sells it for you as you muster enough courage to take another sip and nod your head.

"Yep its good".

Seeing you like it was enough for him as he takes a sip too, struggling to not frown at the taste and focus on the task at hand.

After hours of hopeless flirting and small sips of the coffee that just didn't seem to end, your mutual friend decided to show up.

"What's up" He announces taking a seat across you two "Is that coffee?" He asks pointing to the drinks on the table which was followed by the shove of both drinks in his direction with a chorus of "Here you can have it".

"Ok never knew i had such nice friends" He says picking up a cup and gulping before pulling the cup away to a face of disgust "Ugh, what is this sugar in a cup? this sucks" He announces harshly.

You both look at each other expecting the other to be offended by the insult to the supposedly liked drink but neither actually care to defend the drink but rather defend their partners choices.

"You cant convince me this is good" Your friend drones on as you decide to finally stand up for him "Hey if he likes it then its fine" You say confidently.

He looks taken aback 'he likes it?' he thinks, do you think he likes it? but he thought you liked it "Wait i thought you liked it?" He voices his concern.

"I think its fine" You say trying to not hurt his feelings.

"Too sweet is what it is, its not fine" Your friend cuts you off, looking bored.

"Well yeah it is" You admit sheepishly and his brows furrow, "Wait a minute you don't like it either?" He asks.

"Either?.." You say

"Wait so you don't like it?" You ask

"Oh thank god i fucking hated that drink" he groans out loud earning a few shushes from others around the library as he mutters out a sorry.

"Yeah i never liked it either" You admit embarrassed.

"i thought you did-" You both say quickly before giggling at each other.

"I was gonna buy it again for you tomorrow" He admits "Oh god no" You groan.

"Uh thank you to you too" Your friend scoffs crossing his arms as you two laugh.

"Thank god that cleared up".

[lucaslovescats]

Pink heart, pink helmet - Demitra kalogeras x male!reader (fluff)

Tw: None!!!

Requested!! (Male reader teaches Demitra how to skate)

Authors note: I loved writing this so much!!! So sorry for the delay, life is hard

Word count: 750 (approx)

Demitra💖

What should I wear?

You

Wear something simple, like a shirt and some pants

Since you do need protection

Demitra 💖

I cant just wear yours?

You

Nah, doubt they fit

But we can buy you some next to the park

They sell them in all colors, definitely going to be some you like

Demitra💖

Even in pink?

You

Even in pink, baby

—

You open the store's door, signature squeal being heard as the glass door slides against the wood floor. You stepped aside, letting Demitra go in before going in yourself.

It's a small, comfortable store with the basics. Wax, guards, helmets... basically everything you need to start out, just insanely overpriced

Demitra walks towards the helmet section, immediately starting to look around through different options, picking a few up even but none really catch her eye.

"Do you think I should get this one?" She asks after a few minutes, showing a baby pink helmet with different kinds of pink stars.

"I think you should check out the guards first, get ten matching and all" you say after considering it for a while, knowing she probably wants her elbow and knee protectors to match her helmet. “Maybe I should” she says, smiling at you before walking with you towards the side of the store with protectors

—

On the way to the park, Demitra looked excited. Both of you engaged in some conversation talking about whatever came to your minds, but as you give her a simple explanation on the first step, she looks far too worried for such a simple thing, eyebrows furrowed and pout visible

The step was simple, just getting on the skateboard and then learning how to keep her balance for a few seconds

"Are you sure this is like, enough protection?" She ask, uncertain . You giggle a bit, think on how you watched people first get on the skateboard with nothing to protect them self in areas were the ground is hard to skate on. “Mitra, I’ve seen people start skating barefoot and shirtless on the streets next to the beach, you will be fine"

With that, she takes a little nod, bracing herself to get on, but not before she grabs your hard tight. Once on it, she looks a little dubious of raising her leg, even if you're right there, still holding tight “Promise me if I fall you will catch me" she says, head turning to face you. "Always" You reply, almost as if it's a fact. Which, at least to you, it was. She raises her leg for no longer than five seconds before quickly putting it down on the floor, and repeats this a few times before she starts moving the skateboard slightly.

She smiles at her progress, looking down slightly at you before immediately looking forward, like you taught her on the way here.

You look up at her, following at the same speed, smiling at her progress too. Maybe being a teacher wasn’t so bad after all, or atleast, being Demitras teacher wasn’t.

In the end, you spend hours in the park. She insists on you holding her hand for the first few minutes of trying something new and once she feels sure enough, she makes you trail slowly behind her everytime she moves, you hands out as if you were following a clumsy toddler learning how to walk, but it's the prettiest girl you've ever seen, who also happens to be your girlfriend, learning how to skate because she wants to do this with you.

You catch her every time she gets unsteady, sometimes even stopping her even though she wouldn’t fall, and everytime she would whispers a little “thanks” and kiss you wherever. On your hands, arms, shoulders, wherever of yours was closer to her head at the time. She only falls once, and that one time is on top of you. You're not hurt and neither is sle, but it does end up with both of you laughing on the floor for a lot longer than you should have, not being able to get up as each time would just be met with another wave of laughter from one of you.

All things considered, the first class went well.

[icarusredwings]

I love how you write call girl Wade and having her as gender fluid, honestly I live for a gender ambiguous take on him, it scratches the brain PERFECTLY

And Logan would be obsessed

Just constantly having Wade in his lap, not letting her get more than an arms reach away unless absolutely necessary for their little scams

Girl why you always in my inbox as anonymous.

Were friends. How am I supposed to tag you in cool posts if I dont know who you are.

I do like genderfluid wade and ive been messing around with them for a bit. Wade is literally the "I think im gender fluid but theres a gunfight going on 24/7 so idc about that rn"

So if logan were to genuinely ask, gently bring it up, Hed probably joke at first like wym haha im not a girl and logan would just blink and be like "Just be who you want to be" and suddenly- He's at a dress shop, sitting outside the dressing room awkwardly making eyecontact with the employees who walk by to see him holding 18 different dresses.

"Sir you cant smoke in here"

"You want me to put it out on your forehead?"

When wade comes out theyre in this really pretty kind of pinup dress. "What do you think!?"

Logan sighs, puts it out on his boot and smiles fondly. "Well arnt you gonna spin around?"

So he does and then giggles. "It has pockets!"

So he looks up to the clerk like "What other colours you have of that?"

Wanda has all sorts of dresses now but her signature for gamble nights is a short sparkly one almost similar to sabrina carpenters and a garter with prada heels.

Even pearls. Real pearls to match what ever colour suit logan is wearing. A small "dibs" on her at all times.

By definition Call girl means a sex worker who works by appointment only rather then standing the streets or working for a "any time" brothel.

Sometimes tables get suspicious.

"Whos the girl?"

"Ahh nutin. Just a call girl."

"You pay'er to walk around witcha or smth?"

"Something like that. I play better if I have someone pretty to look at instead of ya ugly mugs."

Pretty much, anyone who makes an appointment dies. Mainly because thats her profession. To butter up her targets, take'em home and then takem out in body bags. Since call girls are "higher class" then regular prostitutes they often have protection with cartel or mafia, especially in this particular setting.

So yeah, sometimes Logan has to grit his teeth and play pimp. "Sell" Wanda off to a sorry sap but it makes him so happy to know she just comes back home and fucks him silly to soothe his jealousy. Its a rush lifestyle. Always on the go, always having the adrenaline of winning or the endorphins of flirting, leading them on, the relief that rushes down wandas back when she finally gets to kill them.

Its a great little scheme they have going on here but sometimes theres more trouble then they bargin for or sometimes one of the players will call wanda ugly and it sets Logan off and sends wade into a hysterical session of tears and refusing to let anyone see them for awhile without any make up on. It pisses patch off a lot actually because he works hard to make sure she feels pretty at all times, even telling her how pretty she is while holding her hair back and their head in the toilet. Cancer is not any kinder to them in this au but at the end of the day if Wanda can make everyone in this room want a piece of his ass while said ass is sitting on Patches lap? Theyre happy.

[archangeldyke-all]

hi hi hii sweetheart. Oh my lord. Your writing is literally so good, you honestly deserve the best, mind blowing, legs shaking, knees bucking, cant even talk orgasm. I'm so sorry. someone had to say ittttt. But I was wonderingggg😋 could you maybe do a drabble with reader and sevika are selling their house because maybe they have a little fucker on the way and they need more room, so they are goin through the house one last time and sevika starts js randomly naming out all her favorite times they have had sex in each place of the house...and she recalls like Hella details not even reader remembers. (Reader has pregnant mush-brain.) But could sevika be like..."wanna find a place we haven't fucked before..?" AND ITS LIKE THE HARDEST THING TO FIND BECAUSE THEY HAVE LITERALLY DONE IT EVERYDAY. But they end up finding a spot and sevika gives reader defo on the top 10 best sex they have had in that house. Could sevika maybe have a penis or even js her strap on in this...?:3 ANYWAY I WOULD LOVE THIS BUT IF YOU CANT DO IT ITS OKAY TOO!! I love you so so much your writings literally amazing!!!

this is so cute i love it!! (and thank u so much, i'm so glad u like my stuff eeek!!<3)

men and minors dni

you should probably be feeling a little more sentimental and sad about leaving behind the house you and sevika have been living in for seven years now.

these four walls have been your home through some of the best days of your life: meeting sevika, marrying sevika, realizing you're pregnant with sevika's baby-- it all happened here. you guys built your lives together here, and overtime, they became so intertwined and connected that you've become a 'we' rather than a 'me.'

but in all honesty-- you're thrilled to be leaving.

you hate this house. the floors are slanted, the roof is leaky, the windows aren't weatherproofed, so it's freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. you haven't been able to take a bath in the tub for three years now because there's cracks in the caulk and any water above an inch deep starts to flood the bathroom. it's a shitty house, and you've been wanting to leave for years.

sevika's always been the one to convince. it's not that she loves your house, it's that she doesn't want to put the effort into finding a new one. but, upon the two of you finding out that your family will be growing in a few short months, sevika finally relented.

and now, just ten minutes down the street from this place, you've bought a beautiful family home, big enough for the two of you, your future baby, and whatever other family members (both human and animal) that might spawn in the future.

your inspector gave it an A+, the yard is spacious, the floors are level, there's not just one, but three bathtubs,-- and the one in the main en-suite is like a hot tub-- big enough for you and your wife to fit and lounge. you're so fucking excited to move in, that you're not even a little sad to leave behind the old space.

sevika's been eyeing you with worry all day as she lugs boxes and furniture to the moving van. she's waiting for your pregnancy hormones to hit you and for you to become a blubbering mess at the thought of leaving behind your place. you can't blame her, your pregnancy hormones can and have turned you into a puddle of tears over much less. just last night you cried for thirty minutes because one of the celery stalks in the bunch you'd bought was wilted, and all his celery friends were still green and healthy, going on living without him.

but, really, you're fine.

she's not buying it.

"sevika, for the last fucking time, i'm okay!" you groan. the house is mostly empty now, just a few boxes and some lamps left. sevika's taking a snack break, one of her arms wrapped around you as she looks at you with concern.

"i'm just saying babe, we can't come back after tonight, so if you need any, like, sentimental pictures, or a good cry--"

"oh my god!" you laugh, elbowing her. "sevika, i'm okay, really. i'm so fucking excited to go, i'm so excited for our future. i'll cherish the memories this place gave us forever, but i don't really care about the place itself." you shrug.

sevika studies you carefully, and then she pouts a bit. "it doesn't make you a little sad?" she asks. you raise your eyebrow, surprised to hear your usually-so-stoic wife is feeling ...sentimental?

"what makes me sad?"

"babe, this house is the first place we ever fucked in!" she whines. you burst into laughter. sevika points to the empty bedroom behind her. "you're not sad to leave that room behind? after all the times i fucked you into incoherence in there?" she asks, her eyes wide and sparkly like she's actually a little emotional. you can't stop laughing as you reach up to cup your wife's cheek.

"honey, you're gonna be fucking me into incoherence for the rest of our lives." you remind her. sevika smiles a bit at this.

"yeah, but... we had so many good times in this house." she sighs wistfully. you chuckle, pecking her cheek.

"we did. remember when you dented the drywall with the headboard?" you ask. sevika giggles a bit, her gaze snapping back down to yours, her hand reaching around your body to start gently stroking your ever-growing belly.

"'course i remember, i had to plaster it back up myself." she chuckles. "remember when we almost started a fire when we were getting kinky with the wax?" she asks. you blink up at her, drawing a blank and pouting.

"no." you whine. "tell me, it sounds hot." you demand. your pregnancy's been blessedly healthy, but the one symptom that's hit you hard is your baby-brain. sometimes, you're just total mush in the head. sevika's been patient and kind each time. right now, she just smiles salaciously at you and presses you against the counter.

"you don't remember?" she asks. "our second anniversary, we wanted to try wax play? you got the special lotion candles and everything, wore those pretty lacy panties i ruined last year on your birthday, and i let you tie my hands up." you smile, the memory slowly coming back to you, heat building between your legs as she speaks. "anyways... it was goin' real good until i kicked over an unattended candle." she whispers.

you break into laughter-- the memory suddenly flooding back to you. "shit, i miss that blanket." you snort, remembering the way the comforter seemingly spontaneously combusted.

"you were screaming as you tried to pat out the fire, and i was tied to the fucking bed that was goin' up in flames-- i thought i was gonna fuckin' die." sevika cackles.

you snort, and kiss her cheek. "i saved you, though." you brag. she laughs.

"yeah, you did."

"c'mon, tell me another." you demand.

sevika raises an eyebrow. "another what?"

"another sex memory." you say. sevika giggles. "they're all fresh and new to me, i like remembering how fun and hot we are."

"hmm..." sevika thinks, her eyes darting around the house. she snatches your wrist and drags you to the bathroom. "i'm still pretty convinced i got you knocked up in here six months ago."

"which time?" you ask. sevika smirks, kissing your cheek and pinching your ass.

"exactly." she teases. you snort. "no, but for real, there was this one time-- i'd just finished my workout and you'd had a big glass of 'shower wine'" sevika puts this in air-quotes, teasing the habit you indulge in each night, "and i fucked you against the sink so good that you had to get right back in the shower once i was done with you. fuck, i came my fucking brains out, honey, i couldn't speak for like ten minutes afterwards." your thighs clench a bit at the memory, your stomach bursting into butterflies at the way sevika's voice has gotten all heavy. her eyes are dark when she looks over at you. "and then, boom. two weeks later you're pregnant." she says, grinning.

you giggle. "you think that was the one, huh?" you ask. she nods.

"what's your theory?"

"i always thought it happened when you fucked me on the couch while we were watching that stupid cop-buddy movie." you say. sevika laughs.

"so you remember that-- a lazy, unromantic fuck after a long weekend of both of us lounging and not showering-- but you don't remember the good ones?" she asks. you just giggle and shrug again.

"they're all good ones with you, baby." you say. sevika's teasing look melts away, something needier taking it's place. you know what she's going to ask for, so you speak before she can. "you think there's a place in the house we haven't fucked?" you ask.

sevika blinks, considering it for a second. "i dunno."

"i wouldn't wanna leave the house with a room un-fucked in, sev, that would be a real shame."

"fuck, it really would, wouldn't it?" she asks. you snort and nod.

"so?" you ask. "you think we've checked all the boxes or can you think of a place we might need to--"

"the attic. you think you can crawl up there in your state?" she inturrupts you, rubbing your stomach as she eyes the little hatch in the ceiling of the hall. you burst into laughter.

"the attic!?"

"c'mon!" she laughs, jumping up and grabbing the string, pulling the stairs down. "you go first, i'll catch you if you fall. she says, steadying your hips as she walks you up the first few steep steps. you can't stop laughing as your wife basically herds you up into the attic.

you've never been up here, execpt for the few times you've had to put a pot down during a rain storm to stop the leaks from coming down into your home. it's dingy and dusty, and you can't even stand up straight-- you have to crawl to the end of the small storage space so sevika can fit up beside you.

she seems just as disgruntled with her choice as you are, but she's determined to make it work, quickly stripping herself of her shirt and laying it down behind you as a blanket. you giggle. "lay down." she requests, holding the back of your head as you lower yourself down so you don't bonk it on any beams or bars.

you can't see her like this. you're flat on your back, and your stomach is huge. you don't know what she's planning, so it's a shock when sevika starts tugging at your pants.

you burst into giggles, lifting your hips up to help her. "what's your plan here, babe?" you ask as she starts kissing your bare legs.

she hums against your thigh, considering your question. she trails a hand up your thigh, teasing your cunt with a feather-light touch, before lifting her mouth from your leg to speak.

"'m gonna get you knocked up again." she says.

you burst into laughter, and you can see sevika lift up from between your legs to admire your smile. you grin down at her, and widen your legs. "give it your best shot, baby." you choke out between laughs.

sevika, grins, and then ducks back down to disappear beneath your tummy and bury her face in your cunt.

fuck, you're horny. the baby's been giving you crazy hormones, and while sometimes that means you can cry at sad celery, other times it means you're so insanely horny you could cum from a strong breeze.

"oh, fuck, baby!" you cry as sevika buries her tongue inside of you. she hums, reaching up to start working her fingers in the mix.

"gonna cum already?" she grunts before ducking back down and sucking your clit. you smack your hand against the dusty floor beneath you-- too round to reach down and tug her hair like you want to.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum all over your fuckin' face, sev." you whine, your brain turning to mush as you get closer. she groans against you at your words, and you take it as a sign to just let your mouth run. "'y feel so fuckin' good, 'y fuck me so good, shit, sevika, sev!" you scream as you cum.

before you can even ride out the first wave of your high, sevika's jumping on top of you to mount you so quickly that her head smacks against one of the low hanging beams in front of you.

you gasp-- still cumming and horrified at the loud "SMACK!" that rings out as you watch your wife's head collide with the beam-- then you burst into pitying, whiny giggles as sevika curses.

"shit!" she groans, reaching up to hold her forehead. you reach up to cup her face, laughing and shivering and somehow still cumming.

"are you okay?" you giggle, pulling her down to kiss the bruise already forming on her forehead. she grunts.

"i'm fine."

"liar." you giggle. you tilt her head from side to side, giving her pupils a good look as a half-assed concussion exam. "poor baby. need me to take you to the urgent care? see if you got a concussion?"

"i'm fine. just need to put my dick in you." she grunts.

you laugh, but shut your legs before she can sink into you. she huffs and glares up at you, and you pinch her chin. "remind me to check you out for real once we're done, okay?" you ask. she nods. you glare at her, knowing she won't. "sevika, you're my brain until the baby comes, i don't care if you don't want me to remember, you really gotta remind me. if you have a concussion and die because i let you fuck me instead of taking you to the hospital-- how am i supposed to explain that to the baby?" you ask.

sevika groans. "okay! okay! i know! ''re you gonna lemme fuck you or what?" she asks.

you pucker your lips, and sevika's annoyance melts as she swoops down to kiss you. you hum happily and open your legs, smiling up at your wife. "okay." you agree. sevika grins, and then she sinks into you with one smooth thrust.

you both gasp, your open mouths just a breath apart from each other as sevika starts to work her hips against yours. "fuck." you whine. sevika smirks down at you.

"fuck." she agrees.

your thighs are shaking-- her cock fills you up perfectly, like she's made for you, made for stretching you just right. each of her thrusts is accompanied by a wet smack, and you bury your face against sevika's shoulder in embarrassment as the wet sounds grow louder. she chuckles.

"you've been fuckin' leaky since i knocked you up. your cunt's so fuckin' needy, isn't it? already put a baby in it and it's just droolin' for more." she grunts against your ear. you cum the second the words leave her mouth, your nails sinking into her shoulders as you shake apart. sevika grins down at you. "fuck, it's so fuckin' cute how easy you are when you're carryin' my kid. i just put it in babe, you're already cumming?" she teases again.

you bite her neck, relishing in the way her breath hitches as you try to collect yourself, then hiking your leg up over her hips and gripping her hair in your hands. "it's your fault." you whimper as you try to catch your breath. "you knocked me up 'n now i'm fuckin' stupid and horny and-- and you feel so good." you whine.

sevika shivers on top of you, and you tug her hair harder.

"'m yours, baby." you whimper. "all yours."

that's the final nail in the coffin-- sevika screams a "fuck!" as she cums at your words. you grin, clenching around her cock and giggling at the way her arms nearly give out beneath her. "you're an evil woman." she sighs appreciatively. "i love you so much."

you laugh, and sevika ducks down to kiss your exposed neck. "'m your evil woman." sevika's dick makes one more feeble twitch inside of you at your words, the reminder that you're hers. you giggle in delight at the feeling.

"damn right you are." she mumbles, grinning.

you sigh as the euphoria of your orgasms wears off and the hard floor beneath you starts to kick in. "you might need to carry me back down the attic steps."

sevika bursts into giggles. "you might need to take me to the hospital. i can't tell if i'm seeing stars because i just came so hard or if it's a concussion."

you groan, and sevika muffles her giggles against your neck.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Down Bad - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 800 Summary: You get ghosted after a one night stand with your handsome neighbor. Warnings: Drinking, smut remembrance, angst. A/N: Happy Tortured Poets Department release day! Thank you to @beskarandblasters for the amazing Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge AGAIN. I previously wrote Paper Rings for it. TBH, I stayed up until 3:30 AM listening to TTPD last night with @ohheypedrito and your girl is STRUGGLING TODAY, but well worth it. What an album.

Masterlist

One night out with your friends, one shared glance, one half smile, one opportunity, one drink bought, one phone number drunkenly tapped into his phone. 

One date, one heated make out session in his truck, one moment of being heaven struck, one naked body left alone in your bed as he quietly leaves without a word. 

One text telling him you had a good time, one week since you’ve heard from him, countless hours of yearning for your neighbor. 

Across the street and two houses to the left, Joel Miller lives. Well manicured lawn, cute daughter who goes door to door selling Girl Scout cookies, large truck parked out the front dinged and well used. 

You’ve been down bad for him since you first moved in, a quick introductory hello and wave one early morning as you took your dog for a walk, how could you be so attracted to a total stranger?

That stranger ignoring you from that moment on, leaving you feeling nuts. Sometimes you’d take your dog for a walk when you’d notice him mowing the lawn, sneaking a glance under your sunglasses, watching the sweat make his skin glisten. Teenage crush vibes, teenage petulance coming out because you can’t have him or his attention. 

You never see him with another woman there, only his loud, precocious brother Tommy who stops to talk with you whenever you’re outside. You know he likes you, but you’re too drawn to his older brother’s beam to even want to lead him on. 

That night shared between the two of you, it almost feels like an evil experiment. He fucked you, fucked you hard, stared into your eyes as he came all over you, devoured your cunt as if he was starving, made you cum so hard it felt like you were floating in a cosmic cloud of sparks, then he left you naked and alone. He owned your body, like it was some sort of hostile takeover. 

You’re barely even sure it happened, like if you speak about the existence of that night, everybody will tell you it never happened, that you’re nuts.

Why did he leave you like that? Why did he strand you the way he did? Why can’t you have him? Why cant you have an us? 

Doesn’t he know what you would do for his attention? How you feel like you could just die when you think back to that night? You’re pathetic for him, isn’t it romantic?

You replay the words he uttered against your skin as he fucked you. “You feel so fucking good, like you were made for me.” 

The taste of your sweat against your lips makes you almost want to cry as you try to run the thoughts of him away on the treadmill at the gym. The last time you sweat like this his cock was stretching you, his hand holding your cheek, his tongue languidly licking into your mouth. 

——

After a night of staring at the ceiling, sleep not visiting you, tossing and turning not being able to get the thought of the weight of his body against yours, you decide to sit out on your porch with coffee in hand, staring at the sky as dawn approaches. A door slamming across the street startles you. He’s outside. This is it, you live in the same old familiar town, he can’t escape you, you can’t escape him. You trudge across the street, only clad in your shorts and your old Rangers shirt. You wave at him to get his attention as he finishes lifting his tool box onto his lift gate. 

You see him swallow as you stand at the edge of his driveway. 

“G’morning,” he nods. “Quite early.”

“It is. Could’t sleep.” 

“Happens to me too.”

“Mm,” you tap your foot, arms folded across your chest. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“S’complicated.”

“Try me, it’d make no difference.”

“Alright,” he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re too good. I don’t think it’s smart… for me to be with someone right now. Too much going on, ’n it’s safer if we just leave it at that. It’s better for you.”

“So, you fuck me, whisper all those sweet things in my ear, make me feel like I’m the chosen one, then just leave? How romantic Joel.”

“Never said I was the romantic type.”

“No, you’re just the fuck ‘em and strand ‘em. I guess.”

“Listen,” he looks down at his watch, “I gotta get goin’, got an important job to start. I really would like to talk more, I respect you too much ’n I really like you, I just think it’s better if you find someone else.”

“Right, well, see you around neighbor,” you bite.

Fuck it, you can’t have him. 

[crguang]

Can I request a SFW Kafka x gn!reader with number 8 "look at me. I love you." from the fluff request and number 92 "it was always you. No matter how many times I disagreed, it was always you." from the angst one? :3

-🧸

cant believe i finally wrote this i wanted it to be extra nice for you and ended up being scared to write it at all hadbskhdf but who doesn't love new beginnings and a set up for "fell first" "fell harder" with kafka

Round lenses soften the blinding sun rays that warm your skin and paint the world an unnatural rose color; bustling streets and selling merchants, running children passing you by and yelling mothers following some steps behind, and in front of you, a low ponytail swinging like a metronome with every self-assured step its owner takes. An amalgamation of sounds converge in your ears as you walk through a lively market, a cacophony of mundane chatter that surrounds you from all sides and makes up the lives of the locals on this planet, which eventually fades into barely perceptible background noise. The swaying ponytail that brushes unfurrowed black leather ahead of you holds all of your attention. Hands resting comfortably in the front pockets of your jacket, you follow wine red hair through the dense crowd like a leashed puppy and it never occurs to you to look away. The spider just below, with its numerous thin limbs glued onto the coat, beckons you closer, close enough to see the carefully spinned web around your torso; a trap. The less distance between you, the tighter its hold on you becomes. You are aware of this particularity as Kafka turns to face you, the end of a lollipop on her tongue, and tilts her head with a perfected Mona Lisa smile on her lips. She speaks, you don’t make out her words blended in the market’s ruckus. She outstretches a gloved hand, you take it without question. Spidersilk wraps around your ankles. 

Her right hand glides the bow over the instrument resting on her shoulder, and the melody she creates with her fingers seems composed by your own heart. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is shut, her mind is miles away somewhere inaccessible, but she is speaking to you through the bright notes of her violin. She stands in the middle of the room, fading sunlight clinging to the ends of her hair and the cuffs of her sleeves, her head tilted towards the wooden instrument that has seen the interior of her heart, and you curse every blink that dares hide her from sight for even an instant. You hear her, you want to tell her that you hear her deep within your blood vessels like her music is the oxygen flowing in your body, yet you are rooted to your privileged seat some feet away from her, your palms on your thighs and your gaze drinking her in. You feel at once light and compressed in a tight space where it is impossible to lay down, the dichotomy between these visceral sensations renders you immobile. Her face twitches near her left eye with a misstep your untrained ear doesn’t register and Kafka doesn’t falter as she continues to play the melody of your heart. When the last note rings out and her hand lowers the violin, she doesn’t meet your glossy eyes. You feel webs irritating your throat.

You wonder if there is a hollow pit past the barriers of her being, if her soul is quiet, and if that is why she conceals it behind easy smiles and nonchalance. You wonder, as you sit with your head in your hands and a weight on your chest, if her rejection is effortless because she’s known nothing else. Or maybe it’s you. How pathetic you are, to look for reasons within her when the issue likely lies in yourself, but you’ve stopped fighting for fairness when you turned old enough to hold a firearm. You are caught in her silk and she is suffocating you. Such fragile material wrapped around your throat, you must be weaker than you thought. She is everywhere; in the passenger seat on the way back from a mission, mere rooms away in each safehouse you stay in, sprawled all over your thoughts until your mind is more hers than it is yours. You can’t escape the ache in your bones after a failed attempt to see through the opaque walls she sits on, looking down on you with a blank gaze. And despite the helplessness, you try again. 

You remember one night, in an alley at the back of a bar, pulsing bass muffled by its rusty door, the smell of alcohol mixed with a hundred bodies’ sweat is overshadowed by the cigarette Kafka lights up. She brings it to her lips, inhales, and the smoke that leaves her mouth only cloaks her features for a few seconds but fresh tobacco fills your nose almost instantly. Her gaze turns to yours and she lifts her hand in invitation. You take the cigarette from her. Your lips wrap around where hers have just been, and because of this moment’s indulgence, you inhale for too long at once. You think you hide the mistake well. Kafka smiles. Her fingertips graze your own as she takes back her cigarette.

“Wanna go back?” She asks, leaning back on the brick wall of the building and releasing gray tendrils of smoke into the air. You shake your head. “Mmm. Me neither.”

In the darkness, with only the back door’s overhead light flickering near you, you rely on the picture perfect model of her in your mind to fill in the part of her face untouched by the unstable yellow light. 

“I think I’ve relaxed enough for one night.”

“Oh, really? Does that mean you won’t call that pretty redhead?”

You look away from her amused expression and stare ahead at the identical brick wall across from where you stand. “What would be the point?”

“To have fun. I think I saw her fall for you a little bit in there.”

“Falling in love is stupid.”

“Isn’t it?”

Kafka blows her smoke in your direction. You turn to meet her eyes through the fumes and like always, you don’t have a clue what’s simmering within them. The bangs over her eyebrows brush her skin with every movement of her head and each silky strand is closer to her than you’ll ever be. You glance at her mouth despite yourself, observe the way her lips close around her cigarette as she takes a drag, and Kafka watches you watching her. She slows down like the world around you, keeping the smoke past her lips for a couple seconds longer than usual before softly exhaling in your face. The smell does nothing to you anymore other than provoke a fleeting tightness in your chest. The bar music has faded away because most things stop in their tracks when you look at her. You stare at each other for an extended moment, in a dark alley on a planet you’ll be robbing of its future tomorrow, and the quiet attempts to cover a vulnerable truth you are both already aware of. 

“Yeah,” you reply after too long, unable to distinguish the colors around her pupils. “I’m too smart for that.”

Kafka smiles. “Yeah, you are.”

You don’t like smoking, even if you gesture for the cigarette she holds between her fingers. Kafka never offers you one after that night. 

The next evening, gunpowder replaces the familiar scent of burning tobacco. Your vision blurs, sometimes closing entirely before you’re jolted awake by two sharp slaps to your right cheek. The stimuli in your ears is distorted as you walk on the edge of unconsciousness, lying on the cool ground of a manufacturing facility. You blink once and the second takes a while to come. Above you, Kafka’s features are hazy. There’s the same smile on her lips when your eyes try to focus on her face, and in your dizzy state, you don’t note the strained edge at the corners of her mouth. Her hands press on your lower abdomen and the acute pain that shoots through your torso makes you cough, the taste of iron at the back of your throat. You shut your eyes with furrowed brows, then receive another couple of firm slaps to your face.

“..ay awake,” there’s a ringing in your ears now, but you make out Kafka’s raspy voice through the fog of your mind. “Thought you were too smart for...”

You don’t hear the rest of what she says and the sight of her moving lips turns dark as you finally lose consciousness. 

When you wake, you don’t recognize your surroundings. Your stomach area aches, but the pain isn’t as severe as it was the last time you were conscious. It takes some time for your eyes to blink open, the effort too great to execute at once, and your lashes flutter with the movement until you’re able to see the white paint peeling off the wall across from the bed you lie on. There’s little light in this space, the outside world is hidden under a layer of paper journals glued to the only window in the room. The faint rays of morning light illuminate the end of the bed where your legs are covered by a thin blanket and the figure to your left wiping dried blood from her sunglasses. Your throat is dry, you can only stare at Kafka sitting on a plain stool at your bedside without acknowledging your state. She isn’t wearing her coat, and her shoulders are bare and tainted with a few streaks of crimson she hasn’t bothered cleaning up during the hour you were transported to this place. Her hands are free from the silk gloves she wears like a second skin. The cuffs of her sleeves are dark with blood. Yours, you think, from when she stopped the bleeding of your abdomen earlier. The events preceding your injury come back to you like a mocking slideshow emphasizing your foolishness; the Stellaron was secured and in the chaos of your exit, you took a blow meant for Kafka. You remember her surprise mirrored by your own, how her eyes widened an inch and her gaze dropped to your stomach, then yours following her line of sight right after. You didn’t think before placing yourself in front of her and were too shocked to register the sound of her guns hitting the ground as her hands reached for you and stopped your fall. 

The air is filled with uncomfortable confessions that don’t need to be uttered— yours, always yours. Your abdomen is bandaged, no longer bleeding profusely from having protected her without a thought and she sits at your bedside, pretending to care for her dirty sunglasses. She is a picture of disinterest, if it isn’t for the way she never meets your eyes. The elephant in the room grows the longer it is left unaddressed. After another minute, Kafka lowers her glasses and looks at you below the neck.

“You’re awake, good,” she says, “that means you’re not as badly hurt as we thought. We still have to stay here for a while, though. You gave us quite a scare.”

“Are you mocking me?”

Once again, you feel suffocated. Your voice is groggy and your words are raw, and you stare at her intently, daring her to hold your gaze. Kafka’s small smile is veiled with uneasiness, you know she can sense the emotion bubbling up your esophagus. 

“I was going to say thanks.”

“You can’t even look at me.” She sighs and faces you. Your eyebrows twitch at the unfamiliar spark in her eyes and agitation takes hold of you. You lift a hand to gesture towards her face. “What is that? Guilt? Now you want to feel guilty?”

Kafka doesn’t respond. You continue after swallowing twice. 

“So what if I got hurt because my feelings for you made me stupid for a minute? What does that change for you?”

The silence that follows your declaration irritates you. She averts her gaze with pursed lips and stares blankly at a corner of the room. She’s known what you feel for her for some time, you know she has. You feel crazy pretending not to see her as more than a companion whose fates are intertwined for the time being while she ignores your chances at getting to know her deeper than her guarded surface. She knows who you are, but you’re not worthy of more than mere glimpses at her heart. Now you’ve said it out loud and it can no longer be ignored or dismissed.

“Look at me.” Your chest rises with emotion you don’t want to contain anymore. You steel yourself so that the words don’t trip on their way out of your mouth, refusing to tear your eyes from her still figure. “Look at me.” 

Kafka stares at you. Your features twist, upset, and she doesn’t look away.

“I love you,” you say firmly, “It was always you, okay? No matter how many times I disagreed, it was always you.”

A weight is lifted off your shoulders once you speak the truth. Kafka’s eyes flit between yours, unreadable, as if making sure of your honesty. You don’t shy away from her attention this time, this is who you are and this is how you feel no matter the fact that she doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. You’re at least free of holding them in like a terrible secret and can start moving on from this embarrassing situation now that everything has been laid on the table. You blink, unaware of the sheen in your gaze.

“...Why are you crying?” Is all Kafka says a moment later.

You wipe your eyes. “I’m not crying.”

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again. Say you love me.”

You frown. She smiles teasingly at the sight, chuckling to herself, and just like that, some levity settles in the room. Despite being injured, you weakly throw your pillow at her and bite your tongue at the pain the action causes you. Kafka catches it easily.

“What? You were so serious just now. Who knew you could be so charming.”

“Shut up!”

She stands to take a seat at the edge of the bed and flicks your forehead with her middle finger, a softer expression painted on her lips. 

“Next time, no need to play the hero. You can just tell me you love me whenever you like.”

Her words seem conceited, but you’ve spent an egregious amount of time looking at her and you can tell hearing this confession from you makes her happy. She hasn’t refused you outright and is instead observing you like she’s seeing you in a new light, and that is enough for you. Kafka stays in the room until you start complaining about crime and near death experiences making you hungry, to which she rolls her eyes. She still fetches you something to eat. After that day, telling her that you love her gets you the same genuine smile as the first time, and you start figuring out all the ways she expresses her affection in return.

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Finished the megan phelps roper autobio a few days ago. Left me with some thoughts.

The first thing to say is that it was very well written and interesting, especially earlier on pre-exodus, in its portrayal of the wbc. There was smth especially captivating about how she described what was essentially a soft coup within the church transforming it from a consensus-run collective to a formalised patriarchal gerontocracy—its worth reading if for no other reason than to get an insiders visceral feeling of what its like to live in that kind of an activist/religious community from birth

There is this tone the book adopts, tho, especially towards the end, which is obviously absolutely integral to its appeal but nevertheless offputting to me. Its a sort of contrite attitude, portraying her decision to leave and denounce the church as an act of penance for the vile crime against humanity of living a life of Hate. Again, clearly the book wouldnt sell without that line, its the essence of her entire personal brand as an author and speaker (the high market value of which—tho she ofc does not say this in print—must have featured at least somewhat in her decision to leave, if by no other means than relieving certain anxieties about her ability to sustain herself afterward). So its not surprising she would put it so front and centre.

But approaching this penitence objectively it just seems... kind of misplaced? Not that i have anything against public acts of apology and grovelling! But, frankly, its hard to read the account and not conclude she is much more of a victim than anyone she protested or besmirched into hurt feelings. Partly by her family in the form of the inevitable abuse attendant upon being raised in that kind of insular fortress community—tho she does a good job not lazily smearing them as some kind of sadistic cult, part of why i thought her description was so interesting and insightful. But also by counterprotesters and others riled up by her churchs activism: she describes their having faced sexual harassment, physical intimidation and violence, even arson in the face of what were clearly and pointedly constitutionally protected exercises of free speech. All of the former manifestly worse than the latter. Often with cops looking the other way! In a just world these targets of her "hate" would have a lot more apologising to do to her than the other way around

The book even caused me to reconsider the degree of my disgust with their most notorious practice: funeral picketing. Not having followed the pickets at the time super closely, i had interpreted them reflexively as incursions (perhaps constitutionally protected, but still unwarranted) on private family grief, turning what would be a personal act of mourning into a spectacle of vitriol and political grandstanding both ways. So i was surprised to hear the familys official statement on the matter:

So long as the families, military, media, veterans groups, and community-at-large, use funerals or memorial services of dead soldiers as platforms for political patriotic pep rallies, we will continue to picket those pep rallies. If they put the flags down and go home, we’ll go home. Not before then.

This seems basically entirely levelheaded, aside from my disagreement with the object level views they were voicing at these events. Privacy is a two-way street: if you are going to turn yr sons funeral into a patriotic circus, you cant fairly complain about ppl returning fire with a concurrent anti-patriotic circus. No heat, no kitchen. I suspect the actual operative principle in many ppls minds is that it doesnt alter the sacrosanct private character of the funeral to engage in socially normative politicising, but socially abnormal politicising crosses the line. Which is just clearly a grotesque and inherently conservative (derogatory) unprincipled distinction to draw

Speaking of which: its sort of tricky to place the church as conservative/rightwing or liberal/leftwing at all. Even setting aside fred phelps earlier and very laudable struggle against institutional racism. In some sense they were part of the rightwing backlash to gains in gay rights, but not in a way that dovetailed with any serious rightwing political projects on that front. They were the paradigmatic doomers: there was no point engaging in legal efforts to stem the marriage tide, say, bc the american experiment as a whole had incurred gods wrath and was living on borrowed time. To the extent they did have any significant legal impact, it was overwhelmingly positive: they were the ones that brought us snyder v phelps, a heroic win for freedom of speech. They remind me as much as anything of a certain kind of maoist sect, like revcom, not just in style but in content (fervent anti-americanism, racial equality, confidence that The End Is Nigh and the only serious question is how to respond to this imminent demise of the existing order, free speech fundsmentalism clearly for instrumental reasons joined with strict internal censorship, even a version of "no investigation, no right to speak!" inculcated from early childhood)

I think one of my first ever posts on my old blog was on this topic with a nascent, less informed version of the views im expressing here. Some forms of freezepeach contrarianism are just part of my unchanging core ig

[megumimania]

AOT LONDON BOY HCS PT 2

featuring: reiner, onyankopon, armin

a/n: this is part two of these hcs, part one is here! thanks for tuning in its kinda rushed my bad 😪, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

ARMIN

-armin would be from islington or finchley maybe even south, but I don’t see him living in like bougie areas such as kensington or chelsea or like richmond

- him and eren went to the same primary and secondary together

-armin was literally his get out of jail free card because of his stellar reputation in academics

-he always gets free stuff from the corner shop or the chicken and chip shop

-doesn’t own a car, he either bikes or takes the tube because he cares about the environment and doesn’t want to add onto the extra pollution in london

-his dress sense is very casual like a t shirt, a pair of loose fitted trousers and some trainers but when he cant be bothered he’ll wear a tech fleece

-he has a very good sense of direction, like he knows the fastest routes for anything, like when eren and connie dragged him to carni (if you went this year im saur jealous 😩 but anyways) and it was time to get home armin found a quicker route that got them back pretty fast

-knows all the best secret spots in london for anything! which makes hanging out with him more fun because you experience a new part of london when you’re together

-he isnt a fan of eren’s scamming ways but when eren asks for help he always answers as long as he’s not a part of it

-london men i feel like are terrible with their feelings but armin is the exception, he would be very open with you about his feelings and such

-reads so much, you’ll catch him at hyde park or greenwich park reading till the sun sets

-he smokes cigarettes but he’s trying to cut it out for you

-his playlist would be very diverse since he’s been brought up in a multicultural area, like it would go from bashment, to rnb, drill to pop

-unlike his unserious counterparts *cough cough* eren and connie, he’s very loyal!

ONYANKOPON

-my ghanaian king, shoutout to my ghanaians!!

-he speaks twi so well that people forget he was brought up in the uk

-he would be from peckham or lewisham for suree, he’s deffo been dragged around by his mum round rye lane market on a saturday morning carrying that trolley with him

-he goes to a pentecostal church, he’s always leading youth service and helping out at church events.

-the aunties love him for this because he’s the perfect son that they don’t have and they just love him in general

-ony can cook and im being for real, so you guys never eat out unless ony wants to show you to a new niche restaurant somewhere

-he has snap but doesn’t have a bitmoji because he thinks it’s immature 😕 but eventually he caves and makes one because you ask him too

-hes always promoting his boys stuff whether that be music,

-he deffo went to an all boys secondary and then he went to a mixed sixth form after, he gives me those vibes

-he used to go to the library to link girls after school 😭 he had a big playboy phase but hes calmed down

-he used to be one of those people at stratford westfield trying to sell you magazines before you enter

-hes not stingy with his money, hes always spoiling the people he loves

-he has a bunch of caps and grills that he likes to rotate out weekly, he has great style

-he works in corporate london so its rare that you dont see him outside of a suit and tie but he always makes time for you

-ony is always holding your bag for dear life when you go to bait areas like oxford street or westfields or like the tourist spots because people be getting their shit stolen loool

-he loves late night tesco trips anything that he can do at night i.e late night walks, drives etc

-bossman is always giving him discounts on stuff because ony is loyal customer.

REINER

-look at that man and tell me he wouldnt be from essex tell me!! like thats pure dagenham material right there

-if you search up a typical person from essex, he would come up

-he probably owns those skintight chinos with those ugly polos with the church shoes

-he tries to downplay his accent a bit since sometimes its hard to understand him but when hes upset his accent comes through in full force

-always at spoons or at the club till early hours

-reiner gives me bricklayer vibes so thats what im gonna roll with

-when he comes home from work in summer hes like hot and sweaty but it makes his biceps glow so its kinda sexy idk

-has a bunch of tattoos, most of them are birthdays of family members and a picture of his grandma who passed away

-has a british bulldog called belle, the dog is fucking scary but reiner thinks the world of her and thinks she can do no wrong

-listens to mainly dnb, garage, techno

-downs pints at the pub like it’s nothing, he has a high alcohol tolerance

-proper geezer that’s all i have to say tbh!

[cyanidedrinkers]

Animalistic(Feral) mutants Part 2!!!!

I'M BACK!!! Ya'll liked this a lot- Like a lot alot and it's given me so many more ideas and i've seen a lot of good stuff :) so let me braind dump once more! I have also been told they're apparently called Ferals! So for the purpose of my fingers i'll refer to them as Ferals I wanna see kids who appear more human only for their more animalistic features to appear later in life I want them to be scared and freaked out. To cry and not know what to do I want everyone to know about Xaviers and for them to run there or to hide themselves away intel one of the X-men, find them either scared or tearing a mans throat out I want to see them doubt themselves only to be told they aren't a monster. They just need to be taught how to deal with becoming themselves I want to see adult Ferals that've been used all their life find piece and help other younger Ferals find their way too I want to see a young Feral hide under Logan's legs because they're playing hide and seek I want to see Logan who has 1-3 baby ferals in his hands at times because they wouldn't sleep without him around I want to see Logan cursing a mother out because she kicked out her kid whos a young feral I want to see Logan who spends more time in the feral nursery then anyone else I want to see a kid grab food out of their friends hands because it's not halal and they don't want their friend to go against their religion on accident @wolfstarr-the-sequel Gave me the idea for these next prompts/brain dumps/food/yeah! So thank you for letting me use your brain pickings! <3 Give me teenage and Adult Ferals that learn how to use their abilities for good. Give me teen Ferals who rush over to a bystander and as they start to grab onto things because they can smell low blood sugar from a mile away Give me a feral who stops some kids in the street to tell them that if they want to do illegal things theres better things to do then sell illegal substances Give me ferals who find their way by becoming like service animals Give me Hank who sets up a training thing and teaches kids how to identify when someone is having a seizure or low blood sugar only for Logan to stand and the corner and say "Low blood sugar smells bitter. Like someone made really strong coffee" So anyone the kids that can smell that type of stuff can identify it because damn it's useful to know that the person fighting next to you is gonna pass out. Give me a kid taking food out of their friends hand while frantically checking over them because "Theres strawberries in this! are you okay!? did you eat any?!" Also, Thank you @god-of-idiots for giving me this idea :D Give me young ferals who feel bad everytime they rip their clothes due to their sharp nails/claws Give me young ferals who cant help but cry and whimper because they're to overstimulated Give me baby ferals who hit and scream because they lack the ability to physically say that their ears are throbbing due to all the sound imputes

And lastly, Give me Wade who comes in every so often to talk to ferals of any and all ages that havent taken so well to the change and let him talk about understanding that it's weird having your world flipped upside down. Let him be an anchor for kids or ferals that started out fairly normal till their features or abilities came in later in life. Let him be an anchor for those who were taught to be weapons Let him look at all these people and speak some truth, That it's all not that bad and while he'll never be allowed in the mansion they should be lucky they are because he didnt have this support system at any point in his life Let him be like the fun uncle who randomly breaks into your heavily guarded house and is probably screwing more than one person in their

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

I can't stop thinking about this moment in "The Secret of Sherlock Holmes" ...

[Sorry for the bad audio quality, as far as I know there's no better recording. The script is under the cut below so you can read along, although it's not verbatim. Also be aware, there's shouting at approx. 0:42 in case you get startled by sudden loud noises (like me).]

Holmes is scared and lives under a feeling of impending doom, beginning to lose his grasp on reality, imagining not only Moriarty's presence but also having conversations with Watson in his thoughts ... And when Watson finally arrives, Holmes of course "can‘t say “Thank you”; he cant say “Good night,” can’t say “Help.”" ...

So he asks Watson for a match to have him close for a moment (they are in Baker Street, Holmes must have his own matches lying around) - I think this is the most logical explanation. He craves Watson's assistance, but he does not know how to ask for it. So he asks for a match instead.

Ahhh, I would sell my soul to travel back in time and see this on stage! (Yes, this is a photo from the play - but I have no idea from which scene.)

Here is the link to the full audio recording of the play on YouTube: Act I - Act II You can find the script via this post by @muchtohope ! I also used it for the text under the cut, thank you OP! :)

The mood changes again: darker, menacing, intensified by sound.

HOLMES becomes aware of another presence: the terrifying image of MORIARTY. His shadow stretches across the stage, street lit, in a London mist. HOLMES is alert, afraid.

HOLMES Professor Moriarty, I presume…? (The shadow remains. Silence) When the time is right, my friend, when the time is right…

The shadow moves away. WATSON's voice is heard.

WATSON Holmes? (HOLMES stays perfectly still) Can I be of assistance?

HOLMES Your presence might be invaluable.

WATSON You speak of danger. You are afraid of something?

HOLMES Well, I am.

WATSON Of what?

HOLMES Of air-guns.

This comes as a terrifying shriek from HOLMES. WATSON's voice has been in HOLMES' mind. Now his voice can be heard off-stage.

WATSON Holmes?

HOLMES (with quiet relief) My friend…

HOLMES rises from chair, as WATSON in outdoor clothes enters in natural light.

WATSON How are you, my dear fellow? I've brought you a cake. Mary baked it especially for you.

WATSON presents a cake tin. HOLMES peers inside, the briefest of glances. He puts in on the desk.

HOLMES How kind. And how is Mrs Watson?

WATSON She is extremely well, and sends you her compliments.

A pause.

HOLMES Watson… I think you know me well enough to understand that I am by no means a nervous man. At the same time it is stupidity, rather than courage, to refuse to recognise danger when it is close upon you. Might I trouble you for a match? (WATSON lights HOLMES' cigarette and sees him staring ahead in a momentary trance before he becomes aware of WATSON's presence again) You have probably never heard of Professor Moriarty?

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

I know you’re on a villain streak rn but can we get some headcanons for fantasy AU shouto? Sfw or nsfw up to you 👀

I really can't see Shouto as anything other than a prince in a fantasy AU

but the kind of prince who hates his role, wishes he could run away and live a normal life

He became the heir of his kingdom after his oldest brother had a huge breakdown, tried setting as much of the castle as he could on fire, and ran off to another kingdom. Then, his other brother married a princess from another kingdom, deciding to join her family rather than make her join his. These actions caused both brothers to be disowned by the King, leaving Shouto as the new heir.

You were a thief of sorts, and after a whole scenario where in attempting to steal something valuable from Shouto he agreed to give it to you only if you took him with you wherever you were going, and you decided it was the easiest course of events, and you could ditch him later

Except, you didnt ditch him. Unknowingly, he used his pretty face to convince you to keep him around and teach him how to defend himself and steal

Months of days and nights alone together in the forests, traveling through towns, surviving with each other and living lavishly as criminals drew the two of you insanely close, until a night mixed with a little too much alcohol helped some feelings become exposed

Shouto very quickly learned to care for you, even though your meeting was random and him tagging along was clearly unwanted on your part, you saved him from a life he didn't want, and youve shown him more than he ever could have hoped for before. Especially as you become softer and more trusting of him, he came to love you

you really considered selling him back to his kingdom for a while, but you noticed how your heart fluttered seeing this spoiled mans smiles even as you trudged around as dirty criminals

the thought of living as royalty disgusted you, but you never thought someone as lucky as him would choose your life over the one he was given

going back, eventually you do end up together, and this is the only time that shouto ever considers going back. he loves his life now, and he knows you do too, but he also knows its dangerous and as King, he could make sure you were always safe and happy. Except he knew you wouldn't be happy in a castle, you needed the world to explore. So he never did go home

He's never been in a relationship before, and his examples of relationships are scarce and not good. His mother's fear of his father alone told him that he should at least never become like his father

He relies more on his instincts with you, and he acts how he pleases. If he wants to touch you, he does. If he wants to kiss you, he does. He's not shy at all, and can be very blunt with you

He likes taking care of you, hes used to being pampered so he feels like he doesn't deserve it when you pamper him, but he knows youve had a hard life and he wants you to feel comfortable.

He gets playfully annoyed when you bring up his royal status, such as calling him your highness and such

He's incredibly smart, and he learns very quickly, so sometimes youre surprised to find him teaching you something.

He hopes that you two can earn enough money to one day move far away where no one would even slightly recognize your faces, and you can live a normal life

He does want a family one day. Even if you cant naturally have kids, there's plenty of kids living in the streets in the towns you go to, you could just take a couple for yourself.

He is insanely naive when it comes to sexual things. He knows what sex is, but only in very scientific terms. He knows it as how someone has a baby, but the idea of it being for pleasure is somewhat foreign to him.

So when you two reach a point of making your relationship sexual, he is (happily) surprised

Youd take the lead in the beginning, but again, he loves to pamper you, so once he knows what hes doing he loves pleasuring you non stop

Im ngl for a while after your first time, you two would fuck like bunnies. He wants to experiment, and he also loves feeling close to you in a way he didn't know possible

Aftercare is very important with him as well even if he isnt aware of him doing so. If he gets rough he massages your body, he helps clean you up, he tells you he loves you and how beautiful you are, he makes sure that you eat.

Honestly, while there are definitely some things Shouto is completely confused about outside of his princely life, he has never once seemed negative about it. For a spoiled prince, he acts so humble and appreciative of everything, and he is always willing to go outside of his comfort zone - this is one of the things that you love about him

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Venus in the 8th: More Observations & Tips

Venus 8th House - Their sensuality is potent & is very magnetic. Their allure is contagious, and they tend to have others wanting to worship then. They could understand the dark side of money and how to make it. I see something about sex work being a thing for a few people with this house placement, but most of all it could be that you are aware of how money works in society and dont look it at from a good or bad perspective. You know that money can be made in all ways and its truly what you do with it is what counts. Hidden secrets around relationships and lovers. You might be able to spot when your lovers are walking out on you, you just know. When it comes to everyone else relationships you can see through them, something you learned during your adolescent years. Youre able to pick up on the energies of people very easy, so it is no wonder you're able to pick up things from others relationships.

I notice if you're a woman with this placement others tend to 'hide their wives/husbands' from you. They think you'll steal them, your sex appeal is extremely high so no matter what people will think youre some 'slut'. Sugar daddies may come out of no where for you guys, the 'streets' chose you not the other way around.

For some of you, you could know some pretty successful people in high places. They gravitate to your aura because it is very dark and powerful, so this can be used as opportunity. You can see into their lives and they trust you with what you know. The more higher youre up on the ladder the more hidden knowledge you tend to come across.

Gifted in the occult, you can be healers in areas that have to do with the sexual organs. Can heal others with your hands (reiki) and could also make money off this if you choose.

Last thing I wasnt to say is that you guys can have a lot of jealous women around you. Girl, guy, non binary. Doesnt matter. Its because since youre personal power comes from your sensuality it can shine light on other peoples darkness.

'Like why is this person so pretty?' 'why does everyone gravitate to them and not me?' like... they cant seem to understand what it is about you. You dont have to be some ig model or extremely attractive to be 'sexy' with this placement you ARE it. You are the embodiment of sex appeal.

Tips I would have these placement holders is to hold on to their sex appeal as long as they can because as they mature in life they'll be individuals that will try to make you turn it down. Hold your head up high & never let them see you sweat because trust me they're waiting it on it. If you have any moment where you are vulnerable thats when the vultures come through and try to attack so privacy over your self & your feelings is necessary.

If you are an artist you can sell your art and can get a lot of vendors and sponsors who want to see your stuff. I say this because people some of you with this placement may be prone to insecurity around your artwork however your passion is noticed in your work. So it should be seen in the spotlight because it gives us a chance to feel the passion and hard work in what you've created.

Another thing I will say before I end this, is that love for yourself & the world at large creates more energy for you to live off of and makes your aura stand out from the rest. You guys are actually work really well with community and you should use your magnetism for the workspaces of helping groups that need your compassion and grace.

thank you for reading <3