#with each other there’s finally the opportunity to rest. to share their burdens. let the exhaustion fall away a bit

[clanborn]

i’m glad my little comic was able to introduce people to the wonderful concept of squirreldaisy

[bobcatsquad]

Wow! My first writing I am sharing with the world! And my first post to tumblr. Heres to hoping someone else likes my little (hopefully not too out of character) headcanons. Minimal fluff! We want all of the villain fuckery around here.

Having a relationship with Albert Wesker

(As a fellow researcher/umbrella employee)

(Possibly morally gray reader)

So you wanna date the evil scientist…

First and foremost, Wesker is married to his job. His work will ALWAYS come first. And for you to be his partner, you would need to be a workaholic yourself and/or accept this fact. He greatly appreciates space.

That being said, you definitely can’t be clingy or constantly demand his attention, he is a very busy and focused man. Else he will begin to see you as more of a burden than a partner and he will retract. Independence is a highly attractive trait to him.

It can by no way effect his career nor divert his focus.

Respect this and he might let you in closer past his stone walls he’s put up to the rest of the world.

Before dating he didn’t pay you much mind and would often give minimal words. But as you proved your competence in the lab, showed interest in his achievements, showed interest in his actual wellbeing, and continued to genuinely try and form a deeper connection with the quiet, reserved evil genius, he started to truly see you. Started to pick you out from the faces he simply worked with to achieve his goals. He’d never had anyone show such care towards him, the companionship intrigues him.

This stoic intimidating man finally began to crack jokes with you and let you in on his dry humor.

Lots of bringing Wesker food on the days he forgets to eat because of project tunnel vision and giving him massages on particularly bad days after work. Sometimes he’ll even return the favor. He has lots of knots and aches from poor posture.

Wesker isn’t a very physically affectionate lover. It’s easy to think of him as cold or distant however he just shows his love in other ways.

This man can easily get along with others and cooperate in teams to get what he needs, however there are very few people he truly likes being around. You actually enjoy each other’s company, even if it’s just working alongside each other in silence sometimes.

The way to Weskers heart is to show genuine interest in his work! Even the scary and darker parts (love us a madman) It makes his tiny lil heart grow when you excitedly ask questions about his work, wanting to know more. And seeing your face light up when he reveals details. And of course all of the compliments to his genius-ness are lovely. He’s very passionate about his work and will never decline an opportunity to talk about it. It’s one of the rare times you see his genuine smile. Not the fake dry one he usually gives when dealing with others, but instead a soft, warm smile on relaxed features.

He likes to tease you a lot.

When he gives you a hard time, it’s because he cares and wants to see you succeed and bring out all your hidden potential he sees stored inside.

Sometimes even after work is wrapped up, you find yourselves just chattering away.

Nobody will ever mess with you, knowing you are close to Wesker. And if they do, they will surely regret messing with the human the blonde had grown quite fond of. We all know Wesker is the master of manipulation and can be very threatening when he wants to be. He is not a force to be reckoned with.

Although he rarely initiates physical affection on his own, one of his favorite things to do sometimes when waiting for a chemical reaction or something else in the lab to finish, he will briefly come up behind you, place his hands on your hips and rest his head in the crook of your neck, pulling you slightly into his chest as he watches over your shoulder whatever you are doing in the lab for a few moments. When nobody else is around of course, as he has appearances to upkeep. It’s kind of a de stressor for him. (And if he’s feeling frisky he might move his hands down to give your cheeks a squeeze before leaving with a dramatic fwoosh of his lab coat)

His love language is definitely gift giving. Actually you both do a lot of gift giving. You may bring him coffees, food from the cafeteria when he is too busy to get it himself and would otherwise miss out on eating, little desk trinkets you think he’d enjoy. One time during a party to celebrate the researching team finishing up a large, challenging project, Wesker presented you with a slim rectangular black box with a golden ribbon tied around it. When you opened it, inside there was a beautiful watch you briefly mentioned liking several months ago. He is very observant, showing that he obviously considers and listens to what you say. His gifts are always thoughtful.

Fancy dinners after hours, you will definitely be spoiled

Not big on pet names but will lovingly call you ‘dearheart’

You are the only one who can remove his glasses to look into those beautiful blue eyes without possibly getting an arm broken.

Just because he may never properly say “I love you” or do PDA or a lot of physical affection in general doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate you nor care.

When he fully trusts you he will let you in a little bit on his frustrations with umbrella, leading to lots of plotting together to take them down. Maybe you even start your own secret project together because what better way to bond than to build bioweapons with your s/o.

He grows to truly care for you and enjoy being around you and I think that’s the best thing you can ask for with this man. It’s not exactly a conventional relationship, but Albert Wesker the crazy scientist isn’t normal either. No fairy tale romance here fellas

If you are like me and love RE men and want to connect with fellow villain simps, I recommend joining the Arklay Mountains discord server where you can make new friends and thirst over murderous men together! ✨(Disclaimer: Server is 18+ only)

[deepspacedukat]

How about Picard with an S/O who is a badass security officer but given the chance, she'd rather be listening to music and painting? <3

Absolutely, nonny!

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I Would Not Dull You With My Song

Captain Jean-Luc Picard (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff.]

Warnings: Established relationship, Picard has it bad, constant heart eyes, a Frenchman's romanticism, mentions of Q's mischief, Picard thinks in Shakespeare quotes bc of course he does.

~*~

By the time he returned to their shared quarters that evening, Jean-Luc was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with his lover in his arms and drift gently off to dreamland. Q had paid the Enterprise a visit, and that always meant trouble, even when the entity was behaving in a somewhat benign manner.

As soon as the door slid shut behind him, Picard let out a heavy sigh and finally allowed his shoulders to drop. For the next two days, there was nothing more strenuous on the agenda than a few minor repairs and some maintenance as the ship moved steadily toward the nearest Starbase for an overhaul.

Faint musical notes floated toward him, and a smile stretched his lips as he pulled himself from his thoughts. The Captain looked toward the far end of the room and found his partner sitting behind an easel, brush and paint palette in hand. Her concentration seemed to have masked his entrance, so he took the opportunity that was presented to him.

Moving almost silently, he walked closer, watching the way her hands - beautiful, strong, and capable of hurting or comforting - laid such delicate brushstrokes upon the canvas before her.

She was second only to Worf in matters of security. He'd watched her acquaint belligerent, combative opponents' faces with bulkheads, walls, and fists, yet here she sat painting a meadow they'd seen together on an unnamed planet a few weeks before. Looking at her in such moments was akin to watching a fierce lion rolling in a patch of particularly soft grass.

Jean-Luc was just as captivated by her as he had been the day they met.

"But that wild music burdens every bough, And sweets grown common lose their dear delight. Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue: Because I would not dull you with my song."

The last lines of Shakespeare's 'Sonnet 102' flowed through his mind as the Bard's words so often did, striking him as a perfect set for the pair of them. They were both reserved in their own ways, and, especially in moments like these, he didn't want to disturb her peace. Neither wished to burden the other unnecessarily, but their love was so forthright that they couldn't help but be drawn to each other like magnets.

He must've made some sound or other despite his attempts not to bother her, because he quite suddenly found her eyes fixed on him, a gentle smile playing across her lips.

She froze him in place with merely a glance - there was something hypnotic about her eyes.

"Long day?" She asked, and he could bring himself to do no more than nod his head as she set her palette aside. Her brush lay rinsed and resting upon a cloth, abandoned by those fingers which chose to grasp his own and coax him toward their bedroom.

And he was all the luckier for it.

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[ellekhen]

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 41 - The Return

Chapter Summary: More than two decades before the adventure - before even Lydia, Mairead, and Tavi - Church met his first friends in unlikely circumstances. In the present, Church tells the rest of his companions (most of) the truth, and it only adds to the warlock's burdens as they get closer to the Shadowlands. He and Astarion share a cozy moment together as they explore their new dynamic, but an unwelcome visit swiftly brings a dark reminder of reality to the both of them.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 193K+ words; Chapters 41/65

Excerpt below:

“And what have you got there?” Astarion asks him curiously, eyeing a small jar clutched in the tiefling’s hand.

Church glances down at it with a start — as if surprised to see it there himself.

“Ah — horn balm,” he explains, gesturing vaguely at his head. “Prevents them from getting dry and flaky and keeps them… looking presentable?”

“How have I never seen you do this before?” Astarion asks in astonishment, holding his hand out. Church sheepishly relinquishes the jar for his examination.

“I usually do it in the morning, actually,” he chuckles. “Normally I’d do it at night, but…”

He trails off, flushing slightly as the elf holds the jar up to his nose and breathes in the fragrance deep.

“But…?” Astarion raises an eyebrow.

“Well… lately… I mean before we got… here…” Church stammers, clearly flustered. “You and I would be… together, at night. The balm can get a bit greasy and I wanted you to have…” he blushes deeper. “...a good grip. You know.”

He groans at Astarion’s delighted, sharp-fanged grin. Mortified, the tiefling holds out his hand to collect the jar.

“How… considerate of you,” Astarion simpers, not making a move to return it. “Well, now that we won’t be engaging in such tussles, why don’t you go back to your usual routine? I’d love to watch,” he adds in a lascivious purr.

Church chuckles at him, but smiles in consideration. “Perhaps I will. But, I already got started, so…” he beckons impatiently for the jar. “Come on — I’ve got to sleep at... some... point...?”

His trails off as Astarion, instead of returning it, crawls closer to him, nearly straddling his lap as the elf continues to study the jar with mild curiosity.

“Such a pity,” he hums, dipping a couple fingers in and swirling them hypnotically atop the waxy surface. Church’s eyes blink slowly as he ogles up at him. “There��s an opportunity to add a bit more fragrance to this, and make it a tad more alluring…”

“There’s herbs and shit in there,” Church interjects with a startled laugh as Astarion maneuvers himself completely onto the tiefling’s lap. His hands reflexively settle at the elf’s hips — holding him gently, but steadily.

Astarion smirks down at him and the tiefling looks up with bright, round eyes as the rogue finally retrieves his slicked fingers to begin applying and massaging the balm into one horn — and then the other.

“A-ah,” Church shudders, closing his eyes at the sensation of his touch. “Ohh. This is strange. When I’m not the one… ah…”

“Why the hells did you not let me do this earlier in our journey?” Astarion grumbles, no longer teasing with his touch as he gathers more balm, warming it between his hands before massaging each of them around both horns simultaneously. “I’ve got very talented hands.”

“No one ever does it right,” Church mumbles sheepishly. “And I didn’t want you to…”

He trails off, sighing and leaning into the elf’s ministrations.

“Didn’t want me to what?” Astarion asks in exasperation.

“I… didn’t think you wanted to touch me more than necessary,” Church admits hesitantly. “You already did enough. I didn’t want to ask… more of you.”

They sit together in silence for a bit as Astarion continues to rub in the balm, thoughtfully.

“Astarion—,” Church’s worried voice begins, but the elf interrupts him.

“Let me do this for you,” Astarion says tersely. “Now, and… whenever you need it. At night.” 

Church answers with uncertain silence.

Astarion scoffs. “And if I’m not doing it right, just show me how instead of letting me bumble off with it.”

“It’s not that,” the tiefling chuckles. His hands still brush tentatively against the elf’s hips, which shift subtly upon his lap with every movement. “You don’t have to do this for the sake of my — ah,” he clears his throat past an inadvertent moan. “You don’t owe me anything, remember?”

“I don’t,” Astarion says lightly. “But perhaps selfishly, I want to do this for you. If only to hear your little noises again,” he adds suggestively.

Church smiles weakly up at him before closing his eyes into his touch. “That should be good enough,” he says softly. “You only ever need a bit, so that should take care of me for a couple days, honestly…”

Astarion finally replaces the lid and relinquishes the jar into the tiefling’s hand, grimacing at the grease upon his skin.

“Let me take care of that,” Church chuckles, setting the jar down and brushing his hands upon Astarion’s, cleaning them with a spark of prestidigitation. He seems quite pleased with himself that he can finally do that cantrip again. 

They stay there for just a beat… 

…before Astarion’s cradling Church’s face in his hands, kissing him thoroughly as the tiefling’s arms wrap around his waist. They taste and hold each other close, moaning softly between each breath lost between their lips. It’s only instinctive that Astarion lets his body move lithely upon the tiefling’s lap, following the motions of his mouth, his hands, and chasing the soft sounds the tiefling can’t help but make at the drag of the elf’s tongue against his…

Astarion knows what he would normally do in this position. He would let out a soft moan, grinding down upon Church’s stiffened cock. Maybe he’d shove the tiefling back down into the bedroll, lavishing upon him an efficient, but pleasurable experience. Perhaps the horn balm would become an interesting improvised lubricant. He’d have the tiefling whimpering and climaxing into the very skilled hands that had been massaging his horns just minutes earlier…

That’s what he’d do… if that’s what he wanted.

But for now, he simply pulls away from Church’s delicious lips, nuzzling his forehead against those strange scales sprouting from his sighing, smiling companion’s forehead. 

What was it the tiefling had said the other night? Ah, yes —

“And just like this is… pretty perfect as it is.”

Astarion breathes in deep.

Start from the beginning!

[jujitto]

. . . . . . . . . 하룻밤만  ★  𝗃 𝗎 𝗌 𝗍 𝗈 𝗇 𝖾 𝗇 𝗂 𝗀 𝗁 𝗍

wc ! 𝟣.𝟪𝗄

contents warnings ! 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾!

synopsis ! 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗎𝗉 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽.

Why did he feel out of place? Almost as if he shouldn't be here. But yet he should. For you though. If it were anyone else he wouldn’t have come. Jake stuck out like a sore thumb against the crowd. But seeing as this was possibly his only chance to see you cheer before he traveled back to Korea. Some part of him couldn't believe he let you beg him into coming to this game.

Not that he didn't want to see you cheer but Jake was more into soccer than football. Pushing through the crowd the Aussie continued to make his way towards the stands, feeling a bit uneasy at the crowd surrounding him. The mask and hat he wore didn't help much in concealing his identity, but he hoped it would at least provide some anonymity. As he finally reached the stands, he searched for a spot where he could blend in better.

Why didn't he tell you he couldn't make it instead of actually showing up? He knew for a fact that you knew his group was on tour and yet he couldn't resist the opportunity to see you cheer in person, especially for the first game of the college football season. Gosh, he was such a sucker for you. Jake's heart raced as he found a spot in the stands where he could discreetly observe the game without drawing too much attention. He stole glances at you, your energy and bright smile illuminating the whole stadium. Seeing you so passionate and happy made him feel both proud and melancholic at the same time. When would he ever get to see you like this again? Now looking back on it you two were on two separate paths now.

Jake living his dream of being an idol and you living out your dreams as a cheerleader in America. No more of you two sharing the same city, going on adventures together, or spending lazy Sundays in each other's company. It was a bittersweet realization that their lives were diverging, and it tugged at Jake's heartstrings. He couldn't help but wonder if he made the right decision by pursuing his career in Korea.

As the game progressed, Jake's attention kept drifting from the field to you. Memories of your time together flooded his mind – the laughter, the support, and the moments of understanding that seemed to bond you two so closely. He missed the simplicity of those days, where distance and time zones were never an issue. Now, being oceans apart, he yearned for a way to make things work. No more of the same thing. As you stood on the sidelines, your eyes couldn't help but search the crowd.

Jake had to have come, right? He wouldn't miss the opportunity to see you in action. He wouldn't, would he? “Y/N.” Your cheer mate called getting your attention. Turning back towards the game, you tried to push the thoughts of Jake aside and focus on cheering. Jake’s eyes never once left the field, his gaze fixated on you as you cheered and encouraged the team. He wondered if you saw him or at least recognized him behind the disguise. But the distance and the crowd made it unlikely for you to spot him.

As the game reached its climax, Jake's internal battle raged on. Part of him wanted to reveal himself to you, to embrace you and confess how much he missed you, but another part of him feared the potential awkwardness and complications it might bring. He didn't want to burden you with his feelings or disrupt your life in America. Yet, his heartache and longing were becoming too much to bear in silence.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game, you and the rest of the cheer squad erupted into cheers and celebration. The team had won, and the stadium was filled with joyous energy. As the crowd began to disperse, Jake hesitated. Should he approach you now or wait until later? He felt torn between staying hidden and showing himself to you. The fear of rejection was eating at him, but he couldn't let this opportunity slip away. Taking a deep breath, he finally made his decision.

Carefully removing his mask and hat, Jake stepped out from his discreet spot and started to make his way towards you. His heart pounded in his chest, nerves and excitement overwhelming him. He hoped that you would still feel the same way about him, even after all this time and distance.

“Y/N. Seems someone is waiting for you at the edge of the field," your cheer mate said, nudging you with a playful smile.

Confused, you followed your friend's gaze and found Jake standing there, looking slightly anxious but determined. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him. It couldn't be, could it? The distance and the fact that he was supposed to be on tour made you doubt your own eyes. Tears welled up in your eyes as you ran to him, the second you reached him you couldn’t help but embrace him tightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist, not caring about the crowd around you. The emotions of seeing him again overwhelmed you, and you couldn't hold back your tears.

Jake held you close, his heart swelling with happiness and relief. He never wanted to leave your side again. As you both held each other tightly, the world around you seemed to fade away. He let his own tears fall as he whispered, “I missed you so much.” You pulled away from the embrace, tears still streaming down your cheeks, but a smile on your face. "I missed you too, Jake," you whispered, your voice filled with emotions.

As you looked into each other's eyes, all the doubts and fears seemed to melt away. The connection between you two was undeniable, and the love you shared remained as strong as ever. It was a surreal moment, and you couldn't believe that he was actually here with you.

"I can't believe you came all this way," you said, wiping away your tears. "But why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I wanted to surprise you," Jake replied, gently brushing a tear off your cheek. "And I couldn't miss the chance to see you cheer in person."

You chuckled through your tears. "You've always been full of surprises, haven't you?"

Jake grinned, a hint of his usual playful self returning. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." You couldn’t help but shake your head as you finally kissed him. As you kissed Jake, the world around you seemed to disappear once again, and all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace and the love you both shared. The crowd's cheers and the excitement of the game faded into the background as you lost yourselves in the moment.

As your lips parted, Jake gazed into your eyes, as he softly spoke, "I love you, don’t forget that.” With a smile, you replied, "I love you too, Jake, and I'll never forget it." The joy and relief in your heart were palpable as you held his hand tightly. As the night fell, Jake walked Y/N home, their hands still tightly intertwined. The streets were dimly lit, and a gentle breeze brushed against their faces, carrying the scent of autumn leaves. Neither of them wanted this moment to end.

As they approached Y/N's doorstep, she hesitated for a moment, not wanting to say goodbye just yet. With a hint of nervousness in her voice, she asked, "Jake, would you like to stay with me, just for the night?" Jake froze as the words fell from her lips. Jake looked into Y/N's eyes, a mix of surprise and joy evident on his face. He couldn’t lie and say that he hadn’t expected her to ask the question especially since he, wanted nothing more than to spend the night with her. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose or make things complicated for you," Jake replied, wanting to be considerate of her feelings and the potential consequences of their actions.

Y/N smiled warmly, cupping Jake's cheek with her hand. "I'm sure. I want to be with you tonight. We have so much to catch up on, and I don't want to waste a moment," she said, her voice filled with sincerity and affection.

With that reassurance, Jake's worries melted away, and he nodded with a soft smile. "Okay, then. I'd love to stay with you tonight," he said, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. As they entered Y/N's home, the atmosphere was filled with both excitement and a hint of nervousness. It had been a long time since they were together like this, and the anticipation was almost overwhelming. Yet, as they settled in, it felt strangely familiar, as if no time had passed between them.

They sat on the couch, talking and laughing like they used to, reminiscing about their adventures together and sharing stories of their time apart. It was a beautiful mix of joy and melancholy, realizing how much they had missed each other and how much they had grown individually.

Noticing it was getting quite late, Y/N stood from the couch and suggested going to bed. As they made their way to her room, Y/N couldn’t help but notice Jake standing at door looking in. With a gentle smile, she reached out to take his hand and led him into the room. “Stay here. I think I have some of my brother’s shorts that might fit you and an old shirt of yours somewhere.” Jake smiled at the mention of his old shirt. Of course, it brought a smile to his face when it came to her and her goofy sentimental ways.

As Y/N rummaged through her drawer to find the clothes for Jake, he couldn't help but glance around the room. Photos of you and him together adorned the walls, reminding him of the precious memories you had shared. As he looked at those pictures, he felt a sense of nostalgia and warmth. Y/N returned with the clothes, handing them to Jake with a playful smirk.

"Here you go. It might not be as stylish as your usual outfits, but it'll do for tonight," she said, teasingly.

Jake chuckled, taking the clothes from her. "Thanks. I'll manage," he replied, slipping into the shorts and shirt.

They both settled into bed, lying side by side, their fingers intertwined as they gazed at each other. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, and neither of them wanted to break it. Y/N finally spoke softly, "I'm glad you came tonight, Jake. It means the world to me."

Jake gently traced shapes on Y/N's hand with his fingers. "You couldn’t keep me from seeing you no matter how hard you tried. That’s how much I missed you.” Jake whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before pulling away. Silence settled into the air as Y/N smiled to herself as she listened to the steady rhythm of Jake's breathing. She was happy to have him here with her. Even if it was just for one night.

[royaleofury]

hii, i hope you're doing well? firstly, you have my permission to read for me! if it's alright, may i please have a reading on my future spouse's traits?

my initials are KS and i'm an aries moon. thank you for your time and energy. <33

Thank you for participating. 🌸

Cards I got for you: The lovers , 6 of pentacles, the fool , 9 of cups , 10 of wands , king of pentacles, acs of pentacles and knight of cups

How will love appear in your life?

Your spouse will enter your life when you need them the most. You will find them who will start looking for them. The lovers is a beautiful card suggesting meeting your significant other when are looking for them the most. While looking for them, you may get a number of choices but your heart will only call out for them

Where will you meet them?

You may meet your fs when you are doing some kind of charity or helping someone out. This can mean an ngo or charity work in general. But the themes will include helping others out. This can mean literal charity work or this can also mean volunteering for an ngo or helping out a friend. But something around those themes.

Traits of your person

Nine of cups signifies a person who is satisfied with what they have. They are the kind of person who will be contented with what they have. Eyeing on the treasures of others is not their thing. But at the same time, they also believe in sharing. But sharing only includes on their part. They do not like taking things of others. If someone wants their things or materials, they will all ready to give it to them.

Let's pull out another card to see more about their personality. I got The Strength for you. They are very hardworking person. They believe in " no pain no gain". No matter what, they are the kind of person who will finish their work first and then go for rest. Sometimes, they may also have a tendency to push themselves harder than they can and even take the burden of other people. In work settings, they will most likely take the tasks of other people and not complain about it at all.

What will you two do together?

When you two come together, it always starts with finding the great unknown. You two will make sure to not to let any pages unturned. Both of you will like to just go with the flow of time and see what's there for you. Enjoying with no care and just letting yourself dwell into each other. You two will act like as if there's no tomorrow and just enjoy in the company of each other. I see lots of trips to nearby places like amusement parks, rides, etc.

What is their strength?

The strength of your fs is that they don't complain at all. They are happy with what they have. They love to push themselves and find out their limits. Whenever they take up any task, they make sure to complete it and not leave it in between. This makes them the happiest. They are more like lone worker. They do not the interruption of another person in their work.

What is their weakness?

The weakness of your fs is that they may have a carefree attitude most of the times. They do not like thinking about the future. They do not make plans for future. Living in the present is good but one also has to think about if their finances are enough for them to lead a happy life in the future too.

What physical markers can you use to detect them?

I got ace of pentacles for this question. You may start seeing lots of balls nearby you. This can be anything like tennis ball, cricket ball, foot ball, etc. but like balls in general. You may sense meeting them when you have changed jobs or looking for another opportunity. When you have abundance in your life meaning all the things that you wanted to achieve are finally achieved by you.

How to approach them and make connection with them?

With knight of cups, they are the kind of person who maybe hopeless romantic. But they wouldn't make the first move on anyone they like. I picked this up intuitively, but I see you making the first move. They maybe on the reserved side when it comes to confessing. They would expect you to come to them like a knight and do all those cliche things for them like keeping a secret love letter on their desk. They are chaotic in love . My cards were literally flowing out.

[ayda--demir]

First Therapy Session - Nov 23, 2022

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Ayda sinks into the plush cushion of the couch, a leg crosses over the other, her fingers laced together and resting on her lap. The toe of her heel taps along with each tick of the clock. 

“I know asking for help is the hardest step. You should be proud of yourself Ms. Demir for taking those steps. Today we will go at your pace.” Dr. Celik assures her, a notebook on his lap and a pen in his hand. 

She had promised Nevra that she would go to therapy to help deal with her issues. The Turk was willing to give this a try for her friend. Doing it for someone else was never the right step, but it was the gentle push that she needs to finally deal with everything that consumes her. 

Her nails start to pick at the tailored suit dress pants she is wearing, the nerves settling in. Now given the opportunity to talk freely about what lay on her chest had her freezing up. Opening up was something she rarely did. Ayda suffered in silence, not wanting to burden others. That was what started her alcohol problem. 

There was one person she needed to let go, but she wasn’t ready to speak about him. That was too personal for her to open up about first. 

The brunette takes a deep breath, both her feet moving flat on the ground, palms rubbing up and down her thighs and she sits straight. 

“I think the easiest to start with is my family.” She pauses for a moment, her eyes looking at him before she looks away. “I come from a Turkish family, which I am sure you could have assumed. I am the youngest of five and I have four older brothers. You can imagine how protective they can be.” She honestly was shocked they let her and Berat be together. Perhaps they saw how he protected her from the altercations they ran into growing up. 

“Two years ago I started my own path and moved away from the family business. For the most part they understood that it wasn’t for me and let me go. I was able to open my own business and start something that was solely mine.” She wasn’t going to mention it was the business she and her ex planned to open when they left the gang life.

She heard the scribbling of pen on paper, wondering what notes he was taking. The brunette was trying not to feel like he was judging her. It was his job to listen and help her work through her problems. 

“How did they feel about it, when you told them you were going down your own path?” His hand came up to remove his glasses from his face and place them down on the table beside him. 

“My Pa, I don’t think he was too pleased with it. Part of me wonders if he was grooming me to take over the family business. Which I find odd, considering my oldest brother was better suited at it.” Hasan had the drive and desire for gang life. “I am a disappointment to him. He has told me a few times.” She shrugs her shoulders at him. It was the truth. That was why he was probably trying to marry her off. 

“What about your mother? How did she feel when you told her this?” He asked. 

Ayda had to think about that. Her mother, she knew the woman loved her, but wasn’t the most affectionate. “She wasn’t the softest woman. My ma, she complimented my father very well. She may not have liked some of his choices, but they shared the same passion. I feel that is what made them strong.” The Turk was always the odd one out of the family, no matter how hard she tried to fit in, she still stood out. 

“She was disappointed, too. She might not have voiced it like my pa, but I could see it in her eyes.” Her gaze glances down at her lap. “Hasan was the only one who understood that I didn’t fit into that world, and when I was ready to finally take that step out, he helped me.”

Dr. Celik nods his head, going to write more down in his book. “Do you still talk to your brother?”

“Yes, more so recently. He likes to check in with me. I have started to go back to family dinners and my father ambushed me with an ultimatum.” Her voice trails off. 

“And what is that?” He replies, looking at her when she finally looks back up. 

“I have a year to get married, otherwise he will arrange one for me. It is common in our culture, but to me, it feels like he’s giving it another attempt to pull me back into something I don’t want.”

“Why don’t you tell him no?” 

Ayda snorts and shakes her head. “One does not simply say no to Mehmet Demir. And if I did, I would no longer be welcomed in the family. I don’t think I’m ready for that step.” She knew Hasan would always be there for her, but no matter how cruel and fucked her family was, they were still her family. 

“There is your dilemma. Why do you feel you need their validation? You are a grown woman who can make her own choices in life.”

Why did she feel like that would be something some would say? One face in particular who mentioned that they couldn't escape their name. 

There was this sudden urge to punch the doctor in the face, not that she would ever do it.

“They are my family.” She retorts, knowing damn well that wasn’t a good enough answer. 

“Is that how a family should treat each other? Forcing you to do things you do not want?” He asked her. She was starting to hate his fucking questions. Everything he said to her was in the form of a question  when she wanted solutions.

"No. It isn't." But my family is not a normal fucking family. She left that part out. 

"Then why do you let them control you like that?" His tone is neutral, making a few notes.

Her body grows rigid and she sits up, going quiet. He doesn't say anything to her, giving her time to process what he asked of her. 

It was a question that haunted her. She was thirty years old and capable of living her life the way she wanted. 

Five minutes passed and she finally found the words. 

"There is no working things out with my family, especially my ma and pa. If I refuse, and turn my back, I will be seen as a traitor. And given my last name, it will follow me around." She takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid of being alone. The last time I was, I turned to drinking heavily." 

"Ah, and you are afraid what might happen to you if you do? Not with your family, but you." A smile etches into his features, feeling like he was getting somewhere with her.

"Yes."

"Then that is something we can talk about. Finding you a support system if you decide to go that route. It is not something you have to decide now. It would be best that you take some time and really reflect on what your values and goals are now, not then. Letting go of the past is hard, but necessary." His eyes flicker up to the clock. 

"It seems that is the end of our session for today. You did well Ayda. I will see you in two weeks."

She nods her head and stands up. "Thank you Dr. Celik. I'll think about what we talked about." Could she finally give up her family? Was she ready to be seen as a traitor?

[guy-j]

Finals Season, Depression, and Things I Want to Experience Again.

It's finally the dreaded portion of the fall semester- the boss stage for those of us that haven't been keeping up with our studies, yet are too committed at this point to drop out, regardless of how necessary that might be. The thought of doing that, after all of the blood, sweat, and tears that have been shed on the journey to this hill, so the only way out is through.

I find myself spending the majority of my nights as I plan to today, hunched over my computer, writing like a madman, with math tutorial videos playing as company. It makes me feel like a maniac. After a while, the numbers become familiar, and I find myself stopping my writing and reflecting to attempt math problems, and yet, it doesn't get any easier. It's enough to make me laugh hysterically in my dorm, making me thankful when no one else is home. The stress is enough to shatter even the sanest among my peers, myself included. It's gotten to the point that I'm not sure how much more I can take of the constant pressure. I have a scholarship that runs out at the end of next semester, and a part of me feels that this could be my excuse to leave this hellhole and try the vast opportunities that the world supposedly has to offer.

I've had some very close calls these days. Recently, I got closer than I ever have to losing any chance at trying anything else in my life at all. I refuse to describe the event- none of you need to read it- but I was laying on the floor, phone in hand, tears streaming down my face, and I realized that I can't keep up with this any longer. Something needs to change or I will not make it out of here alive. I've always prided myself on my strength, my will, and my resolve to "keep on trucking", but next time I may not have the epiphany. I'm not sure what would happen the next time. This isn't healthy for me, and truthfully, I need to seek help for it, but my fear, the one that underlies all of my actions and drives me to do most things, prevents me. Why have humans evolved this mental block? What makes us say, "I can't tell anyone what I am experiencing", even when the alternative might kill us?

It's easy to tell people in similar positions to "seek help" if they begin to feel like the anxiety is seeping into the fissures of their mind and threatening to break the structure, but this is so much easier said than done. As I collapsed there, I called someone, the only person I could think of not being busy. This person was my lover at one point, and is now a dear friend- let's call them "N"- and the only person I could imagine not being occupied. Even in the total throes of despair, I felt like my unwellness was a burden to those I loved, for reasons the human mind can never explain. N picked up immediately, and I was tongue-tied. I didn't know what to say, so I simply said, "I just wanted to say hi, and let you know I love you." It isn't unusual for us to say that to each other, such is the depth of our shared experience, so I don't think they picked up on the desperation in my voice. "I love you" was the only way I could think of saying "I need help". N replied with a confused "I love you too, and...hi?" and I hung up.

It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life, and all I could do was tell this person that I loved them. N is not the closest person to me, not by a long shot, but they were at the top of my recent calls list for some odd reason. I'm not even sure if the call helped at all, but I got up, brushed myself off, and dried my face. Moments later, my brother and sister arrived, and I acted like everything was normal. For the rest of the evening, I was my normal self, despite the distress and fear I was under moments before. I wondered, as I was sitting there joking with everyone, how many other people had experienced this. Movies and awareness campaigns never show the person that acts as if nothing happened, although, of course, this wouldn't make for good TV I suspect.

I'm glad I am still alive. Since then, I have thought of all the things that I love about life, and while it's illogical to say that I would have missed them, I am glad that I can have a chance to experience them again. Listening to my favorite music, drinking my favorite drinks, eating my favorite food, reading my favorite books... and then above that, the creative experiences I love so much. Writing, drawing, composing, painting. I could have never spent another day in a comfortable chair sketching my dog. I could have never sang another song in the shower, or written a short story that brings joy to my friends. I could have spent my last moments in complete agony, crying over something as ridiculous as school grades. It's worth it to stay here, even if it's hard.

[yandere-sins]

Past and Future

Horrortober Day 2: Decision  |  “It’s your decision. Choose wisely.”

Day 2 woop! Got a chance to work on my Kazuha a bit more. I hope to write for him more in the future!

Warnings: Yandere, Manipulation, Possessiveness, Stalking Mention Characters: Kadehara Kazuha x Reader

Kazuha couldn’t not notice the yearning in your gaze as you looked across the plaza at your old friends. These scumbags. Wannabe goody-two-shoes. Oh, how much he despised them. And yet, you longed for their laughter in your ears, the wrinkles in their eyes as they grinned and smiled at each other cheerfully. They were celebrating something Kazuha didn’t know about. But undoubtedly, you remembered after having been close to them since early childhood. 

And yet, you didn’t belong to their circle anymore. You hadn’t been invited to wine and laughter, food and celebration. Instead, you absentmindedly squeezed his hand tighter, and Kazuha took that as a sign. “Come on,” he mumbled, watching how sadness overcame you with every passing second. Frustration and anger, but mostly disappointment, snaked their way into your expression. You had been so excited for today, going out with him, exploring Liyue Harbor with your boyfriend, but the mood was ruined now. 

When you didn’t react, Kazuha used his free arm to lay it around you, pushing you forward despite your feet being unwilling to move. Part of you wanted to go to your friends, to join them in their festivity. But without being invited, you were way too hesitant to approach, and it hurt you even more. Your head hung low as you two finally disappeared in the crowd of people working and shopping, the night market making for a great scene. Still, you couldn’t take it in anymore after remembering your past heartbreak now.

Kazuha wasn’t the type to leave you alone, never wishing to be separated from the warmth and comfort you gave him by being by his side, but in your depressed state, it was hard to do anything with you. Placing you on a bench, Kazuha left to get you something to drink. His mind was wrecking itself of how to help you as he bought your favorite, seasonal beverage, still hot and steaming in its cup, and brought it back to you. 

Unfortunately, no one heard the clattering sound as he dropped it, watching you talk with some of your old friends. When did they come over to talk? Why were they here? How did they notice you? Why now of all times? This was his evening. His time with you. And yet, you hadn’t been as happy with him all night as you were when you talked to them. Kazuha’s expression changed from worried to upset as he had to watch you laugh with them, even though the mood seemed awkward from afar. Maybe they were apologizing, or perhaps just trying to replicate the good old times with you, but you seemed very receptive to their presence, smiling in a way that you never did when you were with Kazuha. 

It had taken a lot to break you guys apart. Not willingly, but they weren’t a good influence for you. He had never done anything to them, but one day they had decided they didn’t like the way he looked at you. That Kazuha was too ‘possessive’ and that the ‘took up all your time’. They told you to stay away from the outsider, to ignore the soft, wonderful feelings you two had for each other—the strong bond you were forming with your boyfriend. Your friends decided he wasn’t good for you but were they really your friends when they made you choose between them and your love? Gods, he hated what they did to you. Hated how miserable they could make you. You had been so nervous and anxious after they started harassing you to leave him, crying at night and into his shoulder when you didn’t know what to do. The first time you said you loved him was while you were assuring him that you still had feelings for him; that being the reason why it was so hard on you to be forced to make this decision. It wasn’t a romantic moment, but one filled with tears. Kazuha would never forgive them for robbing him of his amazing confession from your lips.

However, in the end? You chose him—naturally. You chose him for this very reason. Because you love him. Kazuha never made you decide. Sure, he didn’t like your friends, but he didn’t go out of his way to engage with them. He only ever had eyes for you, following you whenever you met with your so-called friends and making sure you’d be safe from them. However, he was better than them, and even if they made you cry on your way home, he never once went back to hurt them just as much as they hurt you, even if his blood was boiling. Kazuha would rather spend his time comforting you, asserting his place in your heart, than stick to the ones who were desperately trying to tear him out of said place. 

But maybe he should have.

Maybe he should have demanded that you decide on one side. After all, you were already distancing yourself from these people that kept hurting you in the name of ‘only wanting the best for you’. He was the best for you. There was nothing that could be better for you than Kazuha. He was strong; he was safe for you. No one else tended to you as gently and lovingly as he did. Comforted you when you were down. You had to wear the burden of everyone around you, but Kazuha only committed to you and your worries. He was the saving grace and the helping hand you needed in your desperation. The person your friends should have been if you had actually mattered to them. 

In return, you were the same for him. You gave his life a meaning that he had long searched for. A new friend and a love to wake his lonely heart again. No one could ever stir him like you did, and he was thankful. Thankful for the opportunity to be by your side, to warm you on cold nights, and to tell you about the past he never shared with anyone else. You were the listener he wanted; gave him the attention he needed. And Kazuha...

Kazuha wouldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t lose someone again. Not you.

Marching up to you and your friends gathering around, he listened to the meaningless conversation you had. “We’re sorry for saying such harsh things,” and “We were worried about you.” Loads of empty words, in his opinion. But seeing your eyes tear up at them made his heart sting and his blood boil all over again. It made him furious. Furious for you. You deserved so much better than these lies. They didn’t care about you!

Pushing through them without roughly, Kazuha only looked at you, finding your eyes instantly. You were surprised by his appearance but quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and returning to the silly, little smile you usually graced him with. One that was as empty as your friend’s words. One you adapted just to please him and not worry him further, but once he’d put an end to this, Kazuha knew you’d be able to smile at him properly again with a sincere one. 

“Choose,” he prompted, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion while your friends began to grow tense and murmur between themselves. 

“These people-” he made a vague gesture between the few gathered around, “-aren’t good for you, and you know it. They dropped you when you needed them the most while I’ve been with you all this time.”

“You can’t be serious,” you breathed, but Kazuha didn’t confirm your wish. He was serious, even if that meant upsetting you. This was for the best. “It’s your decision. Them or me. Choose wisely.”

“That’s unfair!” one of your friends cried out, upset about his intention, and Kazuha looked at them sharply from the corner of his eye, silencing them effectively. “It’s not unfair,” he shut their argument down, looking only at you as he spoke. “They made you choose first and broke your heart. I never have and never will hurt you. But I am not so sure about the people who already did it once.”

Kazuha’s words had impact; he could see it in your eyes. You, too, remembered the bad times that felt like your heart was ripped into pieces by the people you put so much trust in. And instead, it had been him who was there, making sure you ate and drank in your troubled times, and got rest when you needed it. Even if there was no luxury in his life, he still had been a better friend than any of them. Kazuha completely missed that he suggested dropping you the same way your friends had when he made you choose. He didn’t want to believe you would choose anyone over him after all he did for you. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you. That’s how love worked. 

“I love you.” 

A dirty trick. One that your friends couldn’t use. Kazuha directly pulled at your heartstrings, making you miss a breath as you grew even more blindsided. “I don’t want to lose you, again,” he didn’t hesitate to add, noticing how your friends’ faces grew worried and upset at his words. He was hinting at the bad time you two had gone through. The one that made a part of you die. But you only looked down, hands balling into fists as you felt conflicted. There was no need for you to wreck your pretty head over these nobodies, Kazuha decided, holding out his hand. You only needed him—as much as he needed you. 

Timidly, you reached for his hand, and he gripped yours tightly, pulling you up from your seat and after him, away from these fake friends and their fake worry without another word to them. “It’s better like this,” he assured you, dragging you through the crowd so you wouldn’t be able to look back at your past. He was before you, your future, and he wouldn’t let anyone take you from him and ruin this for you. 

But when you were unresponsive, he threw a glance back over his shoulder, noticing the tears streaming down your eyes. You two came to a stop as he turned around, cupping your face and pulling you into a kiss. Even though your hands came to rest against his chest, pushing, you never managed to escape his grip, forced to kiss him until neither of you could hold your breath anymore. Leaning his forehead against yours, you were left speechless, but not Kazuha.

“I love you. I love you so much. Promise me you’ll never go back to them.” It was hard to commit to that, but his hands grew tighter around your face, desperate to hear it. “You chose me,” he insisted, pain swinging in his voice. “You’re not leaving me.”

There was no way of saying where those emotions came from, but he didn’t give you time to think them over. This was the future he chose, by your side. And that night, you chose it too, even if you ended up not liking it once you found out that your friends had been right all along.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

Death to All Might, Rebirth to Yagi Toshinori

So about All Might. I’ve been extremely wary of talking about what could happen to him because straight up saying “I don’t think he’s gonna die” is asking the universe to spite me. Plus it also feels like a room full of people turning to stare at me as if I said the Sun isn’t a star. Man has death flags everywhere, I know. 

But, okay, *Bill Nye voice* consider the following:

Mr. Yagi here, if he overheard everything, just received the final nail in the coffin on his career. His time as the symbol of peace is not only over, it was in fact partially responsible for the current state of things, since he once did so much on his own that his absence now makes heroes and civilians alike ill-prepared to cope. I think it was very apt for that one guy to be wearing an All Might shirt--he was acting as a mouthpiece for the latent societal problems embedded in All Might’s legacy. 

We know already that he’s been feeling useless. I love this scene and although I’m not gonna talk about it right this second, remember what Aizawa says about just “being here” being enough:

And we know from conversations with Inko that Toshinori is also reframed his purpose around looking after Izuku. But in the end, Izuku rejected his help, and it was his classmates instead who were able to save him. Now the very progress of humanity is rejecting him too. You may me wondering how on Earth I don’t see the logical conclusion of all this being his death. Hold on. It actually has a lot to do with the fact that we’re all expecting it. Nighteye himself saw it, and despite any contrary convictions anyone might have, the plot doesn’t seem to be veering away from that end. All Might Is Gonna Die, says absolutely everything. 

It’s occurring to me that I have previous experience with this kind of plotline that probably little to no one else in this fandom shares, being that I’ve read a certain book series in which the main character is told in no uncertain terms that he will die (no, I’m not talking about hp). The series in question is T*e Und*rland Chronicl*s (censoring so it doesn’t get put in their side of tumblr) and I’m sorry but I’m about to go on a shameless tangent about it and spoil the ending for you.

So in this series there is a prophecy in every book, each one having something to do with war and conflict, and so far all of them have been right. In the last book [mc] finds out that it’s prophesied that he will be killed. Lots of the things in the prophecies are convoluted and metaphorical, but no, this one literally says “when the [mc’s title] has been killed.” He spends the whole book coming to terms with this, and he gives into it, only to find himself waking up in the hospital instead. “Wow, plot twist. /s” you may be thinking, and yeah sure, the mc in a kids book survived, big shocker. But it doesn't end there. After the war, there are peace talks, but they escalate until the two sides are on the verge of declaring war again. And [mc], bless him, has just been caught in the middle of all of this the entire time. He’s sick as shit of fighting, of watching the suffering and death of people he cares about. He draws his sword against both of them angrily, gives a speech saying he won’t take a side, and then promptly breaks his sword across his knee: “There. [mc’s title in the prophecies] is dead. I killed him.” He’s giving a huge middle finger to everyone there, to the man who wrote the prophecies, to the entire fucked up culture of it all. And so something that was taken literally turns out to be metaphorical. That is, if you still believe in the prophecies at all.

Hopefully you’re catching my drift here. What I’m saying is, even though this other series has nothing to do with bnha, it goes to show sometimes it’s the most absolute certainties that are red herrings, and a “death” can consequently be a symbolic one. In All Might’s case, it could be the death of hero society and a rejection of his own past. In other words, character development for Toshinori himself that reflects on the way the world is changing, too. Also there’s the fact that the mc from that other series I’m trying not to name has an honorary title, and I’m imagining that role he occupied “dying” could correspond to something that amounts to, “All Might is dead. I (Yagi Toshinori) killed him.” 

And here’s another thing: we also have to ask ourselves what good a dead Toshinori is to Izuku, narratively speaking. Yes, Izuku has spent his whole life idolizing even the more toxic parts of All Might, and his idealized vision of his hero does need to “die.” But how about Toshinori as a father figure?  Izuku regretting that his last interaction with Toshinori was to reject his help may drive home the fact that he shouldn’t go off on his own, but at this point it’s kinda redundant. If anything it would negate some of the progress that was just made because it’d make him extra paranoid about losing other people too. To be honest, the whole “Uncle Ben” trope, the mentor/father figure who dies and gives the mc a reason to do better, is so tired. Experiencing the death of a loved one really doesn’t deserve to be romanticized like that. I might as well admit that I’m speaking from experience, and let me tell you, losing someone you love suddenly, when you weren’t around, and with unfinished business--it makes you paranoid as hell that it will happen again. It literally gives me nightmares. Y’all, I cannot stress enough that trauma does not equal character development. Granted, just because I know this doesn’t mean Horikoshi does, but in general he does seem to lead his characters toward healing.

Okay, back to the present. Toshinori is turning away from UA. He likely feels useless and rejected. We can infer that what happens next will involve Stain, and we have a couple of extra clues to go with it: Stain considers All Might a true hero, and has stated that he would let All Might kill him. And since Horikoshi loves his parallels, we also have this fight between Endeavor and this random villain who admires him so much that he wants to die by Endeavor’s hand:

This suggests a confrontation in which Stain challenges All Might to live up to himself as he once was, so that as a hero he can vanquish Stain and symbolically overcome society's perversion of that role. But based on what All Might has learned about the system he upheld, Stain is wrong. All Might is not a “true hero” in the sense that the societal issues Stain witnessed exist not in spite of All Might, but (in part) because of him, because he took too much of the responsibility for himself.

Stain probably had no idea about the personal cost of All Might’s lonely burden until after the fact. Maybe he’s seeing it now. So then perhaps the confrontation would be more about Stain claiming he’s just as fake as the rest. Either way, Toshinori has the opportunity to denounce himself and be rid of “All Might,”  to stop living in his own shadow. Nighteye’s vision has been defied before, and I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the combination of society shifting + Toshinori’s own conviction is enough to do it again and work fate in his favor.

He is not All Might. He is Yagi Toshinori: quirkless, worn down, and directionless except for his dedication to Izuku. If he survives his interaction with Stain, he can resolve his imperfect mentorship by confessing about his shortcomings and simply supporting Izuku as a part of his family, not as his teacher (as Aizawa said, just “being there”). And that’s how you really get character development, for both of them. I mean, shit, imagine Toshinori straight up telling Izuku to stop calling him All Might.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Modern Scenarios with Genshin Boys

Brainrot time - be glad, today was supposed to be angst but I had a change of heart.

"Hey, pick on someone your own size!" The first time you met Childe was when you were being bullied by some annoying bullies that had nothing to do but want to pick a fight. It was something you can handle really, and you were about to disperse the commotion when this big guy suddenly appeared as if you were his knight in shining armor. "It's the duty of the strong to protect the weak!" Did he just-?! THE AUDACITY!

Spurred on by your annoyance and your want to prove your strength, you joined the Karate club in your school where you heard he is part of. And in under a month you reached the second tier of the yellow belt. But you needed to become stronger, to reach that guy's black belt status so you can spar with him. He was too high to be directly involved with your training after all.

Finally when the fateful day comes, he looks at you with admiration at the other side of the mat, your determination and fast rank up had him enamored. But you had different plans. When the spar session started, you maneuvered around his kicks and finally did what you've always wanted to do— you wiped your dirty, uncovered foot against his face in a kick. Somehow he fell in love more.

You've been his lover for a while now, and restaurant dates are nothing uncommon in your relationship. And you know his habit of leaving behind his wallet even if he offered that tonight's date would be taken care of. After your lovely dinner session, lo and behold, he DID forget his wallet. But as the considerate lover, you took the liberty to bring your wallet with you even if he said you shouldn't-

Only to realize you brought the wrong wallet, only counting spare change for chicken nuggets. As compensation, you two spent the rest of the night forced to pay off your late bill by doing the restaurant dishes. It was not at all part of your itinerary, but as you start singing to alleviate the boredom and with Zhongli singing along, you had the most fun dancing around the kitchen with soapy arms and loose aprons.

You didn't even know that Zhongli could sing and dance that well! Plates were cleaned faster than any of you expected, and after the IOU contract that you're for sure fixing the next day, the two of your walk home hand in hand with the brightest smile you two had ever shared.

Oh, god, more frogs. Welcome to Biology class! You are partnered to be laboratory buddies with the ever enigmatic, science genius Albedo. He was so epic during Chemistry class, and you were praising the gods for finally bringing this ray of hope to raise up your grades effortlessly. You would think this class would flow by ever so nicely as you finish the plant studies, that is until zoology started and the professor starts talking about dissecting kits.

Your first project was to bring a frog to school to prep up for dissection. Okay, very wack, you thought as you turned to Albedo to ask how you two would even get a frog for the project. Until you saw a curious glint in his beautiful, teal eyes. Next thing you know he was over your house and as you two go around the fields in casual wear.

The fact that stores exist for buying frogs SPECIFICALLY for Biology and dissections was something Albedo held back from you, opting to wish to experience the class firsthand and beyond. It was in all honesty to get to know you better, even if most of the time you tripped on your ass over the mud of the fields trying to chase or run away from a frog. In the end he finally suggested to just buy one, to which you were furious, thankful and elated that you at least got to know the genius more.

Heavily inspired by Driver's License. You've just recently broken up with your boyfriend a day before you got your license to drive, something you were so proud of and excited to exercise together with your lover. But yet here you are crying your eyes out as you drove on the long and winding road of... somewhere. A deserted area with the next stop over or town miles and miles away, so when you happened upon a dejected voyager who clearly needs a lift, you offered him to be a hitchhiker. Xiao was thankful, really, but the ride was ever so awkward with the obvious puffy eyes and tear stains on your cheeks.

At one point, you remembered your ex once again and had to pull over before you end up killing the both of you through tear-stained vision. With sympathy, your hitchhiker offers to drive and a listening ear to your burdens, and it indeed lifted your spirits as he offers helpful advice on your pain. You part when you reached his home with a huge thank you for the lift, and you realized that you were just a town away from him.

The next time you saw him was an embarrassing moment you didn't expect to happen or come by so fast. Awkwardly standing by the roadside where your car was supposed to be, towed away because you didn't realize it was illegal to park there, an motorcyclist with a neon decorated bike suddenly pulled over in front of you. And when he takes off his helmet to offer you a ride, the smirk on Xiao's face doubles the embarrassment. You accepted the offer.

You are a secret agent tasked to assassinate a target you've been following and gathering data on for weeks now, the perfect opportunity happens to be a gathering of high class people, a party or ball even. You thought it would be a quick and easy operation until you realized a man named Kaeya seem to be hovering around your target too closely for your taste and ease. It seems the guy has a body guard in hand. Now your focus was on swaying this bluenette, who was thankfully very, very receptive and welcoming to your advances.

When you finally FINALLY managed to let him off your case and successfully separated him from your target, you hurried over to finish the assassination as you realized you've been lingering for far too long— only to see Kaeya about to stab your target before your interruption. It seems that instead of his body guard, Kaeya was actually a hitman hired to kill your target too, and had been dancing around together with you because he thought YOU were the body guard.

"Woah, this your target too?" "Hell yeah." "Yoooooo!" How ironic, you two laughed the coincidence out nonchalantly as your target bleeds to death besides you both. After escaping your almost jail time when the true body guards came to check on their boss, which made a very awesome action sequence as you exchanged bullets next to Kaeya, you learned that your agency had recruited a new fellow under its ranks. You didn't need a name and face to know who the sly bastard was.

You're not really the type of person to be into parties, not since high-school, and still no in college. Things were already a pain to deal with as the midterm examinations rolling in, but your roommate somehow managed to drag you into a popular college organization's midyear party before unceremoniously dipping to drink with the org members. As you cradle your alibi cup in a corner, staring into the raucous party, you realized someone else who's solo is accompanying you in silent brooding.

The two of you awkwardly introduce yourselves to each other before realizing that you've already met once or twice in campus grounds. "I don't really wanna be here." "Me neither." "Wanna dip?" Your relief didn't even need words to confirm your wants as you two slipped away from the mess, growing in intensity that you wouldn't even be suprised if the local authorities were to be called later on.

A little food date in the local 24/7 fast food restaurant nearby and exchange of numbers made your night a little bit better. So when you two found each other in another party you were dragged in again, your hand was held warm and tight within his as you two snickered, skipping out of the venue to have your own little party.

Hello there, welcome to the start of the fluffy days. Figured you're all sad and broken enough to finally enjoy some good ol' flutters.

@sk1nnyangelic @kookieyachi @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @scarletroseneko @albaedhoe @xiaophilia @heisenwurst @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop

[hookingminor]

ilyana! congrats on 2k!!!! 48 from list 2 with our favorite man to scream about, mr. tyson jost :-)

48. “We’ve known each other for years and I don’t think we’ve ever had a proper conversation.”

two / three

-

Your brother’s friends could be described as one thing: annoying.

For years you had to deal with obnoxious boys overcrowding your home and eating all the food in your pantry and teasing the shit out of you. You were just the irritating little sister they had to put up with, and one older brother had actually turned into five with how often they were at your house.

Thankfully, when your brother went off to college, the chaos calmed down and you could finally eat through an entire bag of chips by yourself without worrying one of them would snatch it from your hands. Then, you went off to college and the guys became nonexistent. Now, your parent’s home served more as a vacation spot rather than home, but that also meant you had to go back to sharing spaces when your brother brought his old buddies over.

You knew the only reason they spent so much time at your house was due to the large pool in your backyard, but the summer time was almost unbearable with how much they were in it. Every turn around the corner you were met with one of your brother’s friends.

They whispered about you behind your back, and especially your brother’s back, among themselves. Mostly, they were brief comments about how your figure had really filled out since you were sixteen. It was a complete one-eighty from when they saw you last, but they’d rather be dead than caught trying to flirt with you. It was simple bro code, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t look and appreciate your body.

You weren’t oblivious to their stares. They probably thought they were inconspicuous or not noticeable, but you weren’t dumb. The extra attention was flattering even if you weren’t going to do anything about it. If you were to get with any of your brother’s friends, it was going to be Tyson Jost, but he hadn’t spared you a second glance since seeing you again.

Tyson had been the only one of your brother’s friends to ever catch your eye. He was always handsome, but beyond that, he was so fucking nice. He didn’t partake in the teasing the rest of your brother’s friends gave you, and he didn’t think you were a burden every time you needed to catch a ride somewhere. He never went out of his way to speak to you, but he never treated you badly.

And you wanted him so bad.

He was just as respectful now as he was back then. Even after years of playing in the NHL and making millions of dollars, the fame hadn’t changed him. His arms had gotten bigger and his thighs more muscular, and his scruff was doing nothing to cool your sinful thoughts, but he was still just as kind.

Out of all your brother’s friends, he was the only one that didn’t irk the shit out of you. If anything, you kind of wished he would say something stupid so you could kill your stupid crush.

It was another hot day, the summer sun beating down on you at what felt like a thousand degrees, and you were taking advantage of the nice weather by lounging by the pool when a chorus of deep voices sounded from the sliding door.

You peeked one eye open under your sunglasses to see five idiots in swim trunks try their hardest not to let their gazes linger on you as they filed outside with a case of beer in hand. Your brother wasn’t with them, presumably still in the house, but Tyson pushed past all the guys and pulled out the lounge next to you.

“Beer?” Tyson asked, holding out a Coors can, and you thanked him as he slid the cold metal into your hand.

The other guys were still looking at you from afar, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling behind your sunglasses.

“Tell your friends they’re gonna catch flies if they don’t close their mouths,” you said, flipping over to your stomach.

You weren’t expecting Tyson to respond, but you were happily surprised when a hearty laugh sounded from his throat. Your head rested on your arms, face turned towards Tyson, and you let a smile quirk at the ends of your lips.

“I’m sorry they’re idiots,” he apologized half-heartedly.

“Not your fault,” you said. “I hope the company in Colorado isn’t as idiotic as the one you keep here.”

“Hate to break it to you, but guys of all ages are stupid,” Tyson explained, glancing over to you. His hair was curly and looked so soft you were half tempted to reach over and run your fingers through it. It was much longer than the cut he used to keep in high school, and you were a fan of this current length.

“I hope they don’t play beer darts at least,” you commented, referring to the night before when the guys sat out back for two hours playing that dumb house party game and progressively getting more drunk throughout it. Nick had taken one straight to the shin, and you could see the bandaid over his leg from your view across the pool.

“Not that stupid at least,” Tyson chuckles. “College boy stupidity is a different kind of stupid.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” you groaned.

You watched the guys, now joined with your brother, shotgun a beer and jump in the pool in quick succession.

“You know, we’ve known each other for years and I don’t think we’ve ever had a proper conversation,” Tyson says after a minute of silence, and you peer at him over the rim of your sunglasses. He leaned back against the chair, sunglasses on and beer in hand.

“I don’t think I’ve had a conversation with any of you that didn’t consist of whining about how you had to drive me to school or to the mall,” you teased.

“Hey! I never said anything,” Tyson said in defense.

“True,” you conceded. “You were the only one that didn’t piss me off back in the day.”

“I tried my hardest not to,” Tyson laughs.

I wish you would’ve tried harder to talk to me.

“Tyson! Get your ass in the pool!” Your brother interrupts, causing both of your attention to snap back to the crowd in the water.

“I think we’re good out here,” Tyson called back, and a few of the guys took the time to splash water at you.

There were loud boos shouted your way, but they left you alone after that.

“How’s school going?” He asked.

“It’s fine,” you answered cautiously. “Stressed about what to do after graduation this year, but other than that it’s all good. How is Colorado? What are the mountains like?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t do a lot of hiking,” he grins. “You should visit some time though if you’re into that. I’m sure I could scout out a few trails to take you on.”

“Really? I’d love that. I’ve barely traveled,” you admitted with a sigh. Being broke and in college with loans to pay off didn’t leave you much opportunity to do much sight-seeing.

“Of course, you can always crash at my place too if you need a place to stay,” he offered, and the gesture warmed your heart.

“Maybe I’ll make a trip later this summer then,” you thought out loud.

“Yeah?” Tyson smiled. “I think you’d love Colorado.”

“If it’s good enough for you then I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” you mused.

“Tyson!” Your brother shouted once again. “Stop flirting with my sister and get in here.”

You knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop the heat from flooding your cheeks in embarrassment. No one would be able to tell since the sun had your face feeling hot all day, but Tyson only laughed and set his empty beer can on the ground beside him.

“Why don’t you text me later if you’re still serious about Colorado?” Tyson suggested as he sat up to his full height. “Oh, and maybe we can just keep this between us?” He looked a little sheepish then, asking you to keep quiet about a possible trip where you’d see him, but it sent tingles throughout your body.

“Of course,” you replied. “I’ll text you later.”

Hope filled your stomach at the thought and tucked your face further into your arms as you tried not to ogle Tyson’s tanned, and very fit body, climb off the chair and jump into the pool.

[fieryhonesty]

“Story’s based on a request from a Nonnie and they are right! Our Xiao needs hugs and rest a bit.”

Words: 1910

Genre: fluff, f!reader

Xiao is always keeping things for him. He will never seek company to share his burdens. After all, there is no trouble which will last long enough, he says. However he can't deny there are moments when he is fed up. Be it the never ending war he fights or his own problems. Which are having roots back in history.

Sometimes there's too much to handle at once, yet he stands tall and faces it headon. Never argues or falters with decisions. As long as it means he can protect Liyue. 

To anyone who has never seen him or rarely, he looks like a strong and cold man. But is he really like this? He is an Adeptus, he has seen a lot and experienced some battle scars. Was Xiao always like this? Back in the days when all other Yaksha existed. 

Many things happened in his life. He can't even count or remember it all. But all those things made him who he is now. Although there are things which still surprise or confuse him. 

He never liked showing himself in front of mortals. There are just a few ones which he tolerates or even allows to talk to him. If he is in a good mood of course. The ones who know Xiao also know about keeping distance when he is upset.

But there's one mortal whose boldness or maybe stupidity never ceases to amaze him. He told you so many times to leave him be, added harsh words and yet... you didn't turn away. Instead approached and offered a companionship. 

He eventually gave up with chasing the silly female away. At first he didn't know why she was so stubborn. Mortals are strange but you are like one or two levels stranger than anyone else. Just why do you wish to spend time with somebody like him?

You are like a bridge between the silent and closed up Adeptus and mortal realm. Part of him is still hesitant and refuses to share his burdens. He might have allowed you to stay beside him, be it in silence or tell him what you did that day. What strange things happened or something. He would just sit there and listen. But none of this means he will let his guard down. He will always be fully aware of what's happening around. 

You are often asking yourself: does he ever rest? As you know him for a while you are able to recognize when he is really sad and you shouldn't say much. Or when he is quite alright and willing to listen to your rambling until you fall asleep. The fact you can peacefully sleep in Xiao's presence amazes him.

Today is one of those nights when he would have preferred to be just alone. But why does he feel this burning desire to pay you a visit? Is it because you didn't come for a few days and he got worried? No. That can't be it. Xiao has no attachment to anybody, especially mortals.

Truth to be told, he feels tired and despite feeling the way he feels. He decides to silently knock on your door. At first he thought he knocked too lightly. For a brief second he thought to himself to leave. Why is he here anyway? But then he heard your footsteps from behind the door. 

He feels so conflicted. He shouldn't be here, seeking anyone's company. Solitude and sadness are nothing to him.

When you open the door of your apartment, the cold is immediately making you shiver. Not wasting any second grabbing Xiao's wrist and pulling him inside. The cold is too much for you. How the heck he can just stand there and not shiver?! 

Be it anyone else touching him, he would have asked them if they do have a death wish. He got used to your touch at least a bit. You sometimes gently squeezed his hand in a friendly gesture. To assure him you are there, willing to listen to anything or just sit silently and observe the sky.

Letting go of his wrist and looking into his golden eyes. As usually his expression is the same but you can feel he is not alright. His shoulders are unusually down and overall his posture is different. 

"Is something wrong?"

You ask with a slightly tilted head to the side. You are not even aware of this, you do it automatically all the time. It's kind of cute but don't expect the Adeptus will say it out loud. He is already confused. He wanted to be alone, why did he come here. He is clearly delaying your bedtime. He should have never come. But the words escaping his lips are even more confusing him. 

"You didn't come..."

Is he really worried about a mortal? Didn't he promise to himself to never get any attachment to anyone? Not even to another Adepti. 

Your next move is really bold and unexpected. Xiao gasps in surprise as you wrap your arms around him.

"Y/n? What are you...?"

Perhaps embracing him would not be the brightest idea if you consider how little he knows about human interactions. But you couldn't help yourself. Feeling a bit guilty for making the poor man worried. He already has a lot on his plate.

"I'm sorry if I did worry you."

You said as you gently rubbed his back, drawing circles in a soothing manner. 

It took him a while to realize what was going on. He seen this act between other mortals but never cared what does it mean. It's just two people are in close proximity, touching each other. But there's something strange about the act. 

Your warmth. 

He didn't feel cold while being outside, he is used to it. But when he feels your warmth he can't help it but feel a bit at ease. When you pull back to check on him, he feels a little... sad? Perhaps he missed the opportunity to repay the act. 

"You know. There's something I had noticed about you, Xiao."

He lifts an eyebrow at you. Unable to contain the curiosity.

"How much do you trust me?" 

You ask while trying to keep your smile. Aware of how much the question doesn’t make sense with what you said before.

Xiao on the other hand is pondering over your question. How much does he trust a mortal like you? And why are you asking him in the first place?

"That's stupid thing to ask. You should have known the answer already."

There we go again. Xiao and his not so sugar coated words. Surely you know he has at least a bit more trust in you than other humans. But would he let you touch him even more? No matter how you put it, it will sound wrong.

"Well then... it just crossed my mind out of nowhere but. Uh... There's something that always bugged me. Do you ever rest or relax at all? I mean yes you do just hang around at Wangshu here and now. But I mean like a real rest..."

You had to stop yourself. Feeling how your monologue was getting worse by each said word.

"I don't need to-"

"Yes, you do." 

Oh no. It slipped out faster than you could think of it. He is silent, eyes slightly narrowed. Did you anger him? It's quite easy to do it after all.

"What do you propose then?"

"Eh?" 

"Don't 'eh' at me. If you think I need to relax then you should have an idea how."

You are finally on the same page. Sometimes you hate your brain to jump into way too fast conclusions. You motion for him to follow you to your living room where you both sit on the sofa. Telling him to sit turned back to you. 

You are sitting behind him. What are you planning? Ah! A gasp escaped his lips making him feel embarrassed. You just barely touched his shoulders. Not even using too much force, just a gentle squeeze to test waters. 

"So, can I give you something that my mom calls a medicine for tired muscles?" 

A simple massage. Just by a single touch you could feel how tense his muscles are. He nods. Being glad you can't see his face now. Biting his bottom lip. He didn't know how much his back actually hurts. Not paying attention to it anymore. But now, he is melting under your touch. 

You try to be gentle but also applying some pressure to help his muscles to relax. You had learned how to massage when you were teen as your mother always had back pain from her work. This was the fastest help, along with pain killers.

Xiao deeply exhales, closing his eyes. He hates to admit it but this feels good, maybe too good. Perhaps he could let his guard down for a bit, at least for now. Letting your skilled fingers caress him. Exhaustion and fatigue is slowly getting under his skin. And this warm feeling, he wants more. Just like when you embraced him a while ago. 

You noticed how much he relaxed under your hands. You can't help it but smile from ear to ear. The mighty Guardian, always so rigid can't endure the pleasant feeling. 

"If you are tired you can sleep over, I don't mind. Unless... you have plans to mess up your back just right when I fix them up?"

You had secretly hoped he wouldn't disappear when you are done. You know when he leaves your place he will go back to his stiff attitude again. 

"Somebody has to keep you safe at night. Take it as a payment..." 

You giggle as he says that. You could tease him about admitting he likes this but decided to rather not.

When you were done and brought him a spare blanket you noticed his blush. Not saying anything and just offering the warm cover. What you did not expect was him grabbing your wrist. 

"Xiao?"

"How can... I keep you safe if you are in the other room?"

Oh damn. Your brain is preoccupied with why he just won't admit he wants to keep you close. 

"Um, you want to move the sofa into my bedroom?" 

He groans. Why you must play dumb now? All he wants is more of your warmth. When you embraced him, when you touched him. He felt at ease  which is new to him. Is it too much to ask for more? Well, maybe he should actually ask and be straight for once.

"Just... stay close." 

"Oh-"

That escalated quickly. For both of you. You decided to spare him from more suffering as you could see his face was slowly turning to tomato color. And you? You weren't much better. Turning off the lights before sliding under the blanket. For once being glad to have a bigger sofa. 

As you are both laying on your sides you feel Xiao's hand hesitantly go over you to pull you closer to him. Don't even think of escaping when he falls asleep. He has you secure. And certainly he won't admit any of this the next morning.

He is tired and confused by his behavior but he decided to blame it on his fatigue. You better don't mention any of this. Not even the way he is having a firm grip of your clothes. Or how quickly he fell asleep.

[robininthelabyrinth]

I'd love more from your deaging NHS AU verse! Maybe little NHS hanging out more with WWX? Or little NHS meeting JC? Or getting spoiled by JYL?

sequel to Little (deaging NHS - need to read that first)

Hosting another sect leader was both a burden and a privilege.

The burden was mostly logistical – although they’d reclaimed the Lotus Pier, they hadn’t managed to fix it all back up, and it was one thing for all of them to be living in a state more fit for wild bandits than a Great Sect but another thing entirely for them to let someone else see them do so.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t do everything himself, even if he was trying to, so Jiang Yanli stepped up to assist: she turned the kitchens into something livable, requisitioned disciples and laborers to focus on the main hall and the guest rooms, supervised the hiring of those who did the laundry and removed waste, all the important things needed to make their home an inviting one, as long as you were careful to only look at the main parts and not the rest.

Luckily, their guest was Nie Mingjue, not any of the other sect leaders, and he didn’t care. That was, Jiang Yanli suspected, the only reason that Jiang Cheng hadn’t had a full-on heart attack as the date of the man’s approach arrived.

Sure enough, he arrived with as little fanfare as possible, greeted them politely, and promptly sequestered himself, his younger brother, and his chief disciples into a room with Jiang Cheng to discuss sect business. By the time they emerged for dinner, Jiang Cheng looked worn out but immensely pleased, they’d signed a half-dozen treaties, and Jiang Yanli had enough food to feed a small army waiting for them. A good thing, too, since apparently the Nie ate like they’d been starving the week before their meal. Even Nie Huaisang made the food in front of him vanish at lightning-quick speed, and he didn’t even have the build to explain away where all of it was going.

By far the most interesting aspect of it for Jiang Yanli, however, was that Wei Wuxian had made an appearance.

This was something of a rarity recently. Something about the war had hurt him, deeply, and that reason, or for whatever reason, he was very obviously avoiding Jiang Cheng – and, as a result, neglecting the duties that ought to be his as chief disciple. Jiang Yanli knew that it was unintentional, that he still cared for both her and Jiang Cheng, for the sect. But it didn’t make it any easier for them that rather than helping them, he instead spent his days skulking around wine shops, and nothing either of them said seemed to make any difference.  

Both she and Jiang Cheng had already resigned themselves to Wei Wuxian snubbing the Nie sect entirely, but to their mutual surprise he was there with a smile that Jiang Yanli hadn’t seen in weeks, boisterous and loud and trying to steal some of the plates of Nie Huaisang’s food whenever the other man turned to say something to Jiang Cheng. Without success, since being notoriously poor at any martial skill did not keep Nie Huaisang from effectively slapping away Wei Wuxian’s wandering fingers without even looking.

He even volunteered to show them around Yunmeng the next morning – meaning a walk by the river, since the Lotus Pier itself was largely not showable in its current condition – and Jiang Cheng agreed to the idea with no little relief, since he needed some time to get the treaties filed and implemented.

“I didn’t know you two had gotten so close to the Nie sect during the war,” Jiang Yanli murmured to Jiang Cheng, who rubbed his face in exhaustion and joy.

“I think it’s because it’s a reminder of happier days, with Nie Huaisang?” he said hesitantly. “Maybe? Anyway, can you make sure they get snacks along with their tea this evening? Chifeng-zun said he was full when he finished his plate, but Nie Huaisang was definitely eying his neighbor’s bowl longingly at the end there.”

Jiang Yanli hid a smile with her hand. “Of course, A-Cheng. Leave it to me.”

She made an entire pot of soup, plus a handful of side dishes, and brought up the portion to the rooms set aside for the main Nie sect herself. It wasn’t just to give them face, though of course that was important given that the Nie were their most important allies barring maybe the Jin sect – it ought to be the Jin sect, but they were playing games with it, and certain overtures by Madame Jin had led Jiang Cheng to speculate that they hoped to finalize the revival of the engagement between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan that Jin Guangshan had unilaterally raised not long ago before agreeing to provide any actual aid.

They hadn’t yet decided if it was worth playing the game back, hinting and implying and leaving themselves wiggle room in case Jiang Yanli really didn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan in the end; luckily, this visit by the Nie sect would put off the necessity of that for a good while. Maybe even for good, depending on how good some of those trading contracts were, and Jiang Cheng’s expression gave Jiang Yanli some hope.

Still, despite the absolutely critical importance of the relationship, that wasn’t why Jiang Yanli decided to go act the part of a servant personally.

Instead, she was hoping to use the opportunity see if she could get some insight into whatever they’d done to make Wei Wuxian smile like that, and to see if she could replicate it.

She wasn’t expecting to hear Wei Wuxian’s voice from the guest quarters they’d assigned to the Nie sect.

Not only because it was a little too late for any visit to be appropriate, but because Wei Wuxian had been avoiding the Jiang clan rooms for – rather a while, now. He wasn’t even sleeping in his own bedroom.

And yet – here he was.

Talking like a child.

Jiang Yanli’s heart stopped briefly in her chest when she heard the familiar whine Wei Wuxian liked to adopt when he was playing as A-Xian: it had always been their special game, her favorite way to indulge her mischievous little brother who sometimes liked to be fed and hugged and tucked in at night, and she would have sharp words for anyone who dared criticize it. But – in front of another sect leader –

“A-Xian, stop,” Nie Mingjue’s deep voice said firmly, his amusement audible even through the door. “Give Huaisang the toy back.”

“But da-ge,” Wei Wuxian whined, even though Nie Huaisang’s laugh made clear that he had handed back whatever toy they were talking about. “Why does he get to have the toy and I don’t?”

“I brought you three toys, you brat, and Huaisang only has one. Not everything is for sharing; some things are yours and yours alone.”

Jiang Yanli reflected briefly on the differences in child-rearing techniques between the sects – if it had been Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, she would have encouraged Jiang Cheng to share, and instructed Wei Wuxian to share in return – before realizing that Nie Mingjue was reacting to Wei Wuxian’s nonsense with extraordinary calmness. Almost as if he’d dealt with it before.

Almost as if he accepted it.

Jiang Yanli steeled her spine and knocked.

“I brought some snacks, Sect Leader,” she called.

There was a brief moment of quiet – some brief murmuring in low voices – but at last he said, “Enter,” and she did.

Wei Wuxian was sitting on the floor with his face buried in Nie Mingjue’s thigh, Nie Mingjue’s hand petting through his hair in a calming gesture; behind them, a small child of around seven, dressed in oversized Nie robes, lolled around on his stomach, his legs kicked up in the air, as he toyed with some puzzle game. Jiang Yanli hadn’t realized the Nie sect had brought along a child – one certainly hadn’t been present at dinner – but under the circumstances she opted not to comment.

“I thought you might still be hungry,” she said with a smile. “So I made some snacks, and soup.”

“Soup!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, lifting his head to reveal red cheeks. “Da-ge, you have to try shijie’s soup!”

“I intend to,” Nie Mingjue said. He was looking at Jiang Yanli thoughtfully. “Would you care to join us, Mistress Jiang?”

“I’d be happy to,” Jiang Yanli said, though she’d originally intended no such thing, and settled down to serve it out. “Thank you for taking care of A-Xian.”

“It’s nothing,” Nie Mingjue said. “A charming child, and one that speaks very highly of you. You must be very proud.”

“I am,” she agreed, and from the corner of her eye saw all the tension drain out of Wei Wuxian’s shoulders at her affirmation of their game. He scrabbled over to her side, abruptly affectionate, and cuddled up. “A-Xian, no! I need that hand to serve the soup. Didn’t you just say that you want Nie-da-ge to have some?”

Wei Wuxian pouted, but withdrew his sticky tentacles. The child on the bed laughed again and rolled over and up to his feet, hopping over to where Wei Wuxian was. “Wei-xiong can play with me while we wait.”

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian agreed at once. “We can play tag!”

“Don’t break anything,” Jiang Yanli said, and discovered to her amusement that Nie Mingjue had said the same exact thing at the same exact moment. He smiled crookedly at her, very briefly – his expression was not one usually given for smiling, typically stern and grim even when it was neutral, and the expression made him look suddenly younger.

“Younger siblings,” he said, an explanation and an excuse, and abruptly Jiang Yanli knew who the child must be. She didn’t know how it was that Nie Huaisang had physically regressed into childhood, as well as doing so emotionally the way Wei Wuxian did, but she supposed it didn’t really matter.

“Yes,” she said, and smiled back at him. “A-Xian likes it when I feed him his meals. Does…?”

Nie Mingjue shook his head. “Huaisang is very proud,” he said, voice fond. “He wouldn’t accept that sort of help from me, though perhaps he might accept it from you if he sees A-Xian getting a treat.”

“Children that age can be very jealous of each other,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “It’s a good thing that A-Xian is five today, so he can play with his friend, and not three. Maybe he can be three another time.”

“I must admit I haven’t noticed much difference so far,” Nie Mingjue remarked. “He’s still always clamoring for hugs.”

“Da-ge gives the best hugs,” Nie Huaisang said loyally.

Wei Wuxian looked a little shifty, but Jiang Yanli nodded at him supportively and he smiled. “They’re really good, shijie,” he confided in her. “He can pick me up!”

Jiang Yanli’s smile broadened, even as Nie Mingjue’s shoulders went up a little in embarrassment.

“We’re all good at different things,” she assured him. “Nie-da-ge is good at hugs, but I bet I’m better at doing your hair, right?”

“Yes! Shijie’s the best!”

“I want my hair done by Jiang-jiejie,” Nie Huaisang declared, eyes avid. “Can I?”

“After we eat,” Nie Mingjue said. “And only if you ask very nicely, and Mistress Jiang says yes.”

“I’ll say yes,” she said, and then, as an aside to Nie Mingjue, added, “You can call me Jiang-meimei if you like. If I’m calling you Nie-da-ge and all.”

He smiled again.

At some point, Jiang Yanli would need to examine how exactly Wei Wuxian had ended up taking Nie Mingjue as one of his caretakers, as well as how Nie Huaisang managed a full-fledged bodily transformation – and they’d need to bring Jiang Cheng in on this, somehow, even though he was neither caretaker nor little, simply because he would be jealous at being left out. And there was still Wei Wuxian’s unusual behavior, his inexplicable distance from all of them…

But that was a problem for later.

For now, they could just be there for them.

[a-n-conrad]

Painting (Steve Rogers x Reader)

[Summary: You decide to paint your friend, Steve Rogers, realizing that no one had ever painted him without his uniform. However, things start to get heated after you start to daydream during your painting session. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but with emotions), Not Canon Compliant (Because fuck you, Marvel.), Swearing, unprotected vaginal sex

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

You and Steve Rogers were widely considered to be an unlikely pair. There were a lot of things that you didn’t exactly agree on. Steve was a lot more social, being bold and outgoing. You were a bit quieter, preferring to avoid the company of a crowd. Steve was prone to waking up early to exercise. You stayed up into the quiet hours of the night, choosing instead to get a majority of your sleep in the morning. You weren’t exactly fond of Steve’s workout routines either, though you would join him on a short jog on occasion.

While you were technically considered an Avenger, you were really only brought out to fight for emergency circumstances. You had some incredibly powerful, incredibly volatile powers, but you really had no interest in using them unless it was completely needed. So you ended up making a few deals. You’d be treated like an Avenger, but you were basically benched unless some drastic, world-ending issue came up. So until then, you were kept on hold in Avengers Tower, spending most of your time painting in the studio that Tony had gotten set up for you.

Despite this power, and despite your title as an official Avenger, you were still a bit of an outsider among the team. You tended not to talk to them a lot, becoming a bit easily overwhelmed by the chaos that the team seemed to radiate. But surprisingly, you and Steve got along incredibly well.

You had originally bonded over your love of art. You loved Steve’s drawings. You admired the linework and shading in his drawings. He could do so much with just a pen, let alone if you gave him a few colors. He admired the amount of emotion you managed to instill into every single painting that you made. No matter what you painted, whether it was a portrait, a landscape, or something entirely different, it was always filled to the brim with the emotion that you had felt while painting it. It was like looking through a window into your soul. It was so honest and refreshing.

Eventually the two of you started to talk a bit more while you worked. It started pretty tame, just discussions of how your day was or general questions about each other like “What’s your favorite color”. But eventually you moved on to the harsher topics of your lives. Steve would talk about how exhausting it was to be the face of America, to be held on such a pedestal while also being expected to sacrifice everything at the drop of a hat. You talked about how cold and dehumanizing it felt to be seen by the American government as nothing more than a weapon, a walking nuclear bomb.

Your struggles overlapped at certain points. You both spent a lot of your time being used by the government. You were both seen as tools more than you were seen as people by a lot of the general public. You were a weapon and he was an idol, some sort of trophy. So you bonded a lot over your shared struggles as you talked to each other and worked on art side by side. And when the hard stuff got a bit too heavy, you’d sit and talk about art. About subjects that you just loved to add to all of your work. About what each shade of every color meant to you, about the emotions that you saw in every tiny color shift.

It was so nice, for both of you, to have something like that. The studio that you spent time in was so safe and peaceful for both of you, since the other Avengers tended to avoid it. And the two of you had started to see through each other’s masks enough to truly get to know each other. Steve couldn’t remember the last time someone had known him as Steve Rogers more than they had known him as Captain America. He had Bucky, but Bucky was far too busy with his own issues for Steve to even consider burdening him with anything else. But with you he could truly be himself, even if that meant getting angry, sad, or frustrated.

So the two of you had become incredibly close, despite your differences. And every day that you had some free time without any big meeting or mission, you would be in the studio helping each other with art. It was a good way for you to relieve stress, just relaxing with each other. It was one of those days that you came to a realization.

- - - - -

“Has anyone ever painted you?” You asked suddenly one day as the two of you sat side by side in the art studio. He looked a bit surprised, and then he looked confused.

“Of course. There are murals of me up all over the place, (Y/n).”

“No, there are murals of Captain America,” you responded, shaking your head, “They don’t really look that much like you. You really only look like that when you’re working as Captain America. So has anyone ever painted you? As Steve Rogers?”

He looked surprised again. And you could tell as the emotions cycled through his face that he didn’t really know how to respond. You supposed it was a bit of an odd question. And you knew that it was a bit odd to think of someone and their superhero persona as two different people, but Steve couldn’t disagree. He wasn’t Captain America all the time, and he loved that you understood that, “I suppose I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess not.”

You hummed a bit, “That’s a shame. It feels like a waste that everyone paints a costume. You should let me paint you sometime.”

You said it in a way that he wasn’t sure if you were serious. Your face was entirely serious when you said it, but you said it so casually, not even really looking at him, “Really?”

You finally looked up at him, noticing the pure confusion on his face, “Of course. I mean, you’d have to sit still for a while, but honestly, you could probably just sit and sketch for a while. You just seem too good of a subject to not be painted without the costume.”

Steve wasn’t really one to blush, but it was quite the compliment coming from you. He had women trying to hit on him all the time now, being Captain America, but that never really felt heartfelt. It had been a fairly long time since he had actually felt a real connection with someone. But to hear you compliment him, thinking of him as Steve Rogers instead of Captain America, made his heart flutter a bit. And the fact that he knew that you were rather picky about the subject you painted only made it more effective.

“I, uh, think that’d be cool,” He responded as soon as he was sure that he could trust his voice not to crack, though he couldn’t hide the slight stutter. It was honestly endearing how much his personality changed when he wasn’t working. While he was still headstrong and stubborn, he was a bit less confident. He knew he could win a fight. He knew that he looked good on television. But he didn’t really know how to interact with people in the new modern age. He was lucky to have the friends that he did. At least, that’s how he felt about it.

“Wonderful,” You hummed, starting to put away all of your supplies, “Why don’t we pack it up for the day and I can start painting you tomorrow if we aren’t too busy?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

- - - - -

The next day was surprisingly slow. You had to say that you were thankful. You had been looking forward to getting to paint Steve, even though you knew it was making him a little nervous. You were honestly excited to have a new project, and part of you was excited for the opportunity to stare at Steve for a bit without it being considered weird. He was easy to admire, both physically and on a personal level, so you found yourself staring more often than you’d like to admit. You were pretty sure that you had been lucky enough to avoid being caught though.

He was physically gorgeous. Obviously. But something about the way that he looked when he was drawing was nearly angelic. The way he furrowed his brows just a little and turned his paper at odd angles to make sure that the proportions of his sketches were right was adorable. The look in his eyes when his work started to come together made your heart melt. When he got a bit frustrated and would run a hand through his hair you could feel your heart skip a beat. You felt a bit dumb to be drooling over your friend, but you had to admit you were falling pretty hard for him. So you’d use this painting as an excuse to admire him without any questions.

He was already blushing a bit when he came into the studio, and you had a feeling that part of it was from Tony teasing him. He had a habit of giving the two of you a bit of a hard time about how much time you spent together. But the blush was still adorable. Something about Steve when he was nervous stole your heart. He was surprisingly soft when he had the space to be.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” He asked as he strode over to your work station that you had already gotten set up.

“Just pull a chair up in front of me. You can get comfortable, start sketching, and I’ll get a base outline and block out as much as I can. Just let me know if you need a break and try not to change your pose too much. At least until I can get all of the base shapes right,” You instructed, trying to keep your voice even. You were surprised at how well you managed to hide the fact that you were completely lovesick.

“Alright, sounds good,” He responded, pulling up a chair and getting himself situated. He crossed one of his legs over the other, resting his ankle on his other thigh to give himself a place to set his sketchbook. You tossed him his pencil once he got himself settled, and then you got to work.

You had to admit you had started to get a bit frustrated with how easily you managed to get distracted by him while you were trying to paint. You had hoped that maybe painting him would help. You had no reason to get distracted from your painting when you were painting him. At least, that’s what you had thought before you started sketching out the form.

You felt yourself losing focus as your brush moved smoothly, the incredibly thin, light paint building a form that you found yourself wanting to know a bit more intimately. You tried your best to stay focused on the canvas in front of you, but you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting. You imagined what his body looked like under his clothes as you blocked out the lights and shadows of the fabric that rested over his abs. And the vivid image in your brain, the detailed picture of his body that you had conjured up in front of you, followed your brush as you worked.

The brush slid smoothly across the canvas, outlining his muscles, almost all of which showed through his thin t-shirt. Your brain almost instantly conjured up a matching image, the fantasy becoming more and more dynamic as you went on. It shifted from regular images of what his abs looked like when he was shirtless to more detailed images. Thoughts of his biceps flexing a bit as he held himself over you, his arms covered in sweat. Thoughts of his hands sliding across your skin. It only got worse as you moved down, eventually reaching the point between his legs.

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?” Steve’s voice finally broke you from your thoughts, his eyes which had been focused intently on his drawing when you had last looked were now trained on your face, scanning for any sign as to what was causing you to space out, “You don’t normally get distracted when you’re painting, is everything alright?”

“Oh,” You tried your best to pull yourself back to reality, though the fantasies seemed to be burned into your brain, “Yeah, sorry. I was, uh, spacing out a bit.”

“Do you want to take a break for a bit? Maybe we should get up and stretch,” He suggested. You nodded in response, hoping it would help you refocus on your painting.

It didn’t help much, though, as Steve stood, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt lifted up just enough to show some skin, and his pants were riding fairly low. Your eyes almost involuntarily moved to look at him, landing right about the button to the jeans that he was wearing. The muscles in his hips and stomach formed an almost perfect V shape leading into his pants.

“(Y/N)?” You had been caught staring. You tried your best to look casual, relaxing your posture. Your mistake was to try to lean on the table, setting your hand directing on your palette, which was covered in paints.

You froze, and Steve’s eyes landed on your hand, the red and blue paint gushing out from the sides. You felt like an awkward teenager, doing stupid ridiculous shit in front of your crush. You watched intently for a reaction from Steve, not really knowing what to do and hoping that the way that he reacted would give you something easy to respond to.

He raised one of his eyebrows at you, a look of confusion, with a small hint of amusement under the surface painted across his face, “You seem to have set your hand in your paint.”

“Uh, yes, it would seem so,” You responded awkwardly, finally lifting your hand out of the paint. You still really weren’t sure what to say, and not knowing where to put your hand so that you wouldn’t smear any paint anywhere wasn’t really making you feel any better. You cleared your throat a bit, trying to think of something smart to say, something that wouldn’t signal exactly how far gone you were into your fantasies, but instead you just signaled to Steve how flustered you were.

You knew that Steve had never been the biggest ladies’ man. From what he had told you, he was actually pretty awkward growing up, but the confidence that washed over him as he finally figured out what was getting you so flustered was visible. He walked closer to you, standing close enough to emphasize how tall he was, “Got something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh, uh,” You stuttered, not sure what to say. You could tell that he knew from the smirk on his face, but you could feel your face heating up as you thought about explaining your fantasizing to Steve. He smirked even more as you got visibly flustered.

“It’s okay, honey, I don’t mind if you stare a little,” He said, standing a bit closer, his hand moving to hold your chin. You swallowed deeply as his fingers brushed against your skin softly. Your eyes locked with his as his hand tilted your chin up just a little.

As much as he was keeping up his confident, masculine persona, you could see the complete warmth in his eyes. He softened completely when you looked at him, pure admiration in your eyes. He had to admit it warmed his heart to see you looking at him like that, like he was your whole world. And maybe it was because he felt the same way. He had been falling in love with you slowly, and as he looked at you, he wanted to find every way possible to express it.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his voice soft.

“Please.”

His lips were much softer than you thought they’d be, but you didn’t think about it too much as his lips moved against your own. It was soft at first, but it began to escalate quickly, getting rough and more passionate. His hands moved to your waist, pulling your body into his own, and your hands moved to his face, too focused on the kiss to notice the fact that you were smearing paint across his cheek.

He pulled back, allowing you to get a breath of air. That was when you noticed the red and blue streaks across his cheek, “Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about,” He brushed it off, before pulling you into another kiss. He truly didn’t seem to care at all about the paint, choosing instead to focus on you.

This kiss started off much more passionate, building even further. Before long he pulled away again, pulling a groan from your mouth as you instinctively wanted more. Your complaints were silenced, though, as he began to kiss down your neck, nipping slighting at a few select spots, leaving marks for you to see later.

“If you want me to stop, just say it,” He said, as his hands started to move towards the hem of your shirt. He was moving slowly, giving you the chance to stop him at any point. You didn’t.

Before long, your clothes were entirely discarded, scattered haphazardly across the floor. Steve’s followed shortly. Neither of you could keep your hands to yourself, feeling the curves of each other's bodies as you continued to kiss. Both of you were desperate, the tension that neither of you even realized had been building finally crashing to the ground around you, any sort of restraint being thrown out the window.

However, you had to take a few moments to admire his body. You knew that it was perfect, he was a super soldier, of course it’s perfect, but you didn’t really know how perfect until it was right in front of you. There was no way you could’ve imagined it in a way that did it true justice. The warmth under his skin, the pace of his breathing, the firm feeling of his grip on your waist. Those were things that you could never have imagined fully.

He lifted you up without any issue, placing his hands under your thighs, carrying you to the work table and setting you on a clear section of the table without breaking the kiss. His hands slid across the tops of your thighs before grabbing your hips. Yours moved from his cheeks to rest on his bare chest, smearing a bit more paint across his scalped chest. You could feel his erection brush against your leg as he leaned over you, the two of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

You were breathing heavily, your brain clouded with need, both new and left over from your earlier fantasies. Fantasies that were coming true, “Please, Steve.”

“What is it, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, looking down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire, “What do you want?”

You began to grind against his thigh without really thinking about it. He had to admit that something about you needing him this much turned him on, but he wanted to wait until you said it before he did anything, “Please fuck me.”

He would’ve liked to have a bit more foreplay, but both of you were so needy, having built up to this for so long with so little release until now. So he complied with your request. He pulled you quickly to the edge of the table. You were forced to lay your upper body down completely so that he could pull your hips to hang over the edge a bit. He took a few moments to rub himself against the entrance to your pussy, coating the head of his cock with liquid that was practically dripping from your pussy. Finally, he pushed himself into you slowly, making sure to monitor your reaction for any sort of discomfort. You were indulging in the feeling of him slowly stretching you out, completely enjoying the feeling of having him as close to you as possible.

He started moving after he was sure that you were comfortable, his hands beginning to wander your body, squeezing at your hips and breasts, basically any part of you that had a bit of squish, something for him to grab. His mouth latched on to the base of your neck, leaving a deep, dark hickey. You could feel every movement of his hips, his cock brushing against your internal walls again with each thrust.

You couldn’t hold back your moans as he found the perfect spot to hit, one of his hands gripping one of your hips tightly to hold you in place as his thrusts gained momentum. He started picking up speed a bit, taking care to continue to hit the spot that made you moan the loudest. His other hand slid down further, his fingers making their way between your folds. He was surprisingly quick to find your clit, not that you were complaining. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head as he started to rub small circles over it, keeping pace with his thrusts.

You were practically putty in his hands, falling apart as he found every way to make you moan. Touch, squeezing, kissing, and biting exactly where you needed him to. You had no idea how he knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t really care as a knot began to build in the pit of your stomach.

You practically screamed his name as the knot finally snapped, Steve continuing his motions, continuing to rub your clit, as you rode out your climax, your whole body feeling as though fireworks were shooting through your veins. Your walls tightened with the waves of your orgasms, the fluttering feeling clear to Steve as he continued to bury himself inside of you. Soon after your climax finished, you could feel his thrust begin to get a bit sloppy, focus clear on his face as he tried his best to hold on longer.

He couldn’t hold on that long, though, soon giving in to the building pleasure. He came hard, his hips snapping into your own and his head being buried in your neck to hide his curses as he came completely undone. You could feel the thick hot ropes of his cum coating your insides as he finished. You both stayed like that for a few moments in order to catch your breath.

As you started to come back to reality, you finally noticed the mess you had made. Steve’s hair was a mess, blue paint sticking some of the tips together. You couldn’t even remember when you had grabbed his hair, but the paint smears left a clear map of where your hand had wandered. The blue and red stripes across his face and chest were clear, too. In fact, you had gotten paint all over his sculpted body, the blue smears outlining his muscles.

“We should probably clean up and get back to work, huh?” He eventually sighed, his eyes never leaving your body.

“I suppose.”

(A/N: Thanks for reading! If you want to send me a tip for my writing feel free to tip me over venmo! My venmo is Al3x13l. Tips aren't required, but as a broke college student, they are appreciated.)

[sobdasha]

been thinking about the really weird dynamics of the Honda family

and the ways they parallel with the Souma family.

Tohru's relationship with Grandpa Honda has always been really inscrutable to me. It seems like Kyouko liked him quite a lot, and the feeling was mutual, so their relationship ought to be close, right? But despite relying on Grandpa around the time of Katsuya's funeral, I get the impression that Kyouko and Grandpa aren't very close after that? He takes Tohru in after Kyouko's funeral, but doesn't provide a place for her to stay during the renovations, and they don't seem to keep in touch.

I figured this was for the convenience of the plot. If Tohru was close with her grandpa, then she wouldn't have no family, no one left, after her mom died. If Tohru had somewhere else to go, it wouldn't be so vital that she be allowed to keep living in the Souma house.

I've been thinking about Shiki, though, and about Akito and Shigure as parents within the Souma estate, and I'm wondering now if this wasn't actually a parallel playing out in brilliant Takaya fashion.

Starting with a recap, because a summary of info is always useful to me:

Kyouko grows up in a family that is very much about Keeping Up Appearances and Knowing Your Place. Her dad is verbally and emotionally abusive and isn't above slapping people either. Her mother isn't affectionate and doesn't protect her, probably because she's primarily concerned with protecting herself from the fallout when anything sets off her abusive husband. Kyouko has never had her emotional needs met and she's never been socialized to see others as real people with real feelings. Before even 7th grade she's become part of the gang scene in a cry for help and attention, and because these are the only people she can kind of understand. Her father has told her she's kicked out of the house at least once prior before he finally makes good on it and disinherits her at the end of 9th grade.

Katsuya and his younger sister grow up in a family that is also very much about Traditional Values and Keeping Up Appearances. Grandpa Honda is a teacher, and he puts a big emphasis on Proper Manners (and probably also other things like Good Grades, Fitting In, and Knowing Your Place). He's stern and pressures Katsuya to become a teacher as well. We don't know what Katsuya's mother was like, but I'm assuming she was also not particularly affectionate. It's only after her illness and passing, probably when Katsuya is somewhere around 20, that Grandpa Honda reevaluates his life and what's most important to him.

From a young age, Katsuya flew under the radar by heavily masking--ie, he made a cardboard cutout of what society expected him to be, so Polite, Quiet, Respectable, Studying To Become A Teacher, while underneath it all being filled with apathy, resentment, and loneliness. His moral compass is deeply skewed--see his teasing of people, his attitude of looking down on people, his bragging admittance to using his father's influence to get away with things, his creepy expressions that are identical to those of The Root Of All Evil (ie, Shigure). He has no real interpersonal relationships--family, friend, or romantic. He's a 23 year old TA who is fixated on and marries a 15 year old girl because she's the first person he ever recognized as human--he saw her in the middle of a violent meltdown and it was the first time he was ever really struck by the realization that someone else might feel the same feelings he does.

(Which, in addition to the dubious legality and widely-regarded ickiness, is just downright pathetic. I'm sorry, but it's true. Fruits Basket itself backs me up.)

The first parallel that jumps out at me is between the stories of Kyouko and Katsuya, and Ren and Akira:

Ren is an Outsider. We don't know what her family life was before joining the Souma clan, but based on everything about her I feel it's safe to assume it was also abusive. A large percentage of the Souma family is against the marriage, but Akira is adamant because Ren is the first person he's ever connected with. Similarly, the Honda family (save Grandpa) disapproves of Kyouko and she remains forever an outsider to them.

In Kyouko's case, Katsuya is able to ditch his family and start fresh with Kyouko. Ren, on the other hand, has to live within the toxic Souma family to be with Akira. Both husbands die, leaving a grieving widow and child behind. Kyouko treasures her daughter and finds a new reason to live in Tohru, away from the rest of the Honda family; Ren, already jealous of Akito for getting in the way of her relationship with her husband (and not dealing well with being pulled even further into the Souma family bullshit with all this curse stuff), and trapped within the toxic Souma family with no one on her side, chooses to perpetuate the cycle of abuse.

The thing I've been thinking about most is the parallels between Tohru and the Honda family and Shiki and the Souma family:

As I said before, Tohru's relationship with Grandpa Honda is very strange. It's not just me--Yuki and Kyou make comments to this effect also, I'm pretty sure. But I think I can finally make sense of it now, if I think of it in light of Shiki.

I think there are a couple chapters of FBA out there that I haven't read (the one with Akito, and were there other chapters beyond volume 3?), but Mutsuki implies--and I think we should take this at face value--that Akito and Shigure hope that Shiki will leave the Souma family. They are not kicking their child out. They want this as loving parents, who have done their best to raise their child in a good home in the midst of a very toxic environment. I like to think they will do a good job of explaining this to Shiki, explicitly and clearly. Akito could have walked away from the Souma family, but she chose to stay because she had a hand in perpetuating the toxicity and generational abuse in the Souma family and she is taking responsibility for trying to end the cycle. She has finally stepped up as the head of the family. She could have walked away, but she didn't.

Shiki had no hand in making the Souma family what it is. Shiki is not obligated in any way to put up with that bullshit. Shiki can and should walk away from that toxic environment, go somewhere new, and be happy. He and his parents and all his non-toxic relatives can visit and call each other and still maintain relationships, but in healthier places, as everyone learned to do at the end of Fruits Basket.

This, I believe, is what Grandpa is also doing for Tohru. He's just less explicit and messes it up at first.

I don't know exactly why we don't see more of Grandpa's relationship with Kyouko and Tohru after Katsuya's death. Is it because Tohru, as the narrator, is prioritizing Only Me And My Mom stories? Is it because Kyouko didn't want to be a burden (is that part of where Tohru absorbed it)? Is it because Kyouko couldn't maintain a good relationship with Grandpa with the Honda Family Toxicity in the background?

The Honda family toxicity shows up in full force again when Kyouko dies. Tohru is a riceball that doesn't belong in the Honda family fruits basket. No one, save Grandpa, will take her in.

And then he invites his daughter's family, which he knows is toxic and will abuse Tohru, in to live with the two of them.

I don't know who came up with the idea--if it's Grandpa, that's a bit cold, as he should be caring for Tohru. If it's his daughter ("Dad, you're getting older, you should be living with us so we can take care of you") that does make sense, both as a reasonable social expectation (which dad raised her to adhere to) and as a power move (the Outsider shouldn't be getting so cozy with dad, and dad's inheritance, without supervision). I'm leaning towards the daughter, as I don't think the family combining was intended to get Tohru to leave. I think the remodel, though, was something Grandpa Honda saw as a good opportunity to convince Tohru to leave the Hondas.

I think "I'm having the house remodeled and I'm staying with my daughter, but you weren't invited, I could pull my weight or maybe you could find your own accommodations with a friend?" was intended to give Tohru permission to not feel obligated to the Honda family. I think it was intended to let Tohru find someplace she would actually be happy, a found family living situation where she could flourish. I think Granpda sincerely thought Tohru would move in with Hanajima, instead of into a tent, and realize that she was so much happier and fulfilled there that she never came back to the toxic Honda family and had no regrets.

Grandpa's judgment was a little iffy there but he tried.

I'm realizing that, if everyone moved into Grandpa's house because it was bigger, and it's being remodeled specifically for that purpose...the fact that Tohru is sharing a room with her cousin is very significant. Grandpa was so confident, there is no place for Tohru in that house. Tohru was never supposed to come back after the remodel.

(I don't know that much about houses so it's possible that they just didn't have room; depending on whether that's the uncle or the son, you've got to have 4 or 5 separate bedrooms, which I guess could be a lot. But this is a manga, they aren't strictly constrained to realism, and Takaya makes every damn detail count.)

Tohru isn't supposed to come back after the remodel, but she does. She does, and the family is toxic to her, and Grandpa tells her more overtly that she is not obligated to live here out of familial loyalty. If there's somewhere else Tohru is happier, even if it's a really unconventional living situation, she should feel welcome to choose that instead.

Grandpa's a parallel to Akito here. He's been becoming aware, since his wife died, that his priorities were all wrong. That he raised his children wrong. That Katsuya appeared to have no real emotions and had never connected with anyone outside of Kyouko and their daughter. (Maybe he learned to make work friends?? But I doubt it.) That his daughter is judgmental and cares more about the appearance of being proper than about not being rude.

Don't think poorly of him, Grandpa says. Deep down, they're just evil people. But Grandpa recognizes that he had a hand in creating those evil people. And instead of being like Machi's mom, who goes "well maybe I fucked up" and then throws her out of the family, Grandpa takes responsibility for the family he made. He recognizes that he raised his kids in a way that caused them to be shallow and rude and to think of people as means to an end, and he also recognizes that it would be shitty to reject his kids for turning out exactly as he raised them. He has to live with them (and his choices), he says, but Tohru doesn't.

Looking at it like that, I respect Grandpa Honda more. He seemed a bit wishy-washy before--useful for some plot and character development points, but wishy-washy all the same. But it's a tough decision, and having to prioritize people is always shitty. Grandpa not rejecting his daughter means sacrificing a stable home for Tohru. Akito staying as the head of the Souma family so she can ensure the freedom of the former Zodiac means that her child will be subjected to the same generational abuse, no matter how loving and supportive of a home life she and Shigure provide.

But they're both trying to do a right thing in a crappy situation.

And Tohru, like so many of the former Zodiac, does find happiness and fulfillment in the new family she's able to make for herself. She learns to make her world bigger, and she learns that leaving doesn't have to be the same as cutting ties. And so I'm very optimistic that Shiki will find the same.