#((and now. in seven days... it will be my turn

[hxney-lemcn]

Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)

Master List

You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.

Riddle Rosehearts

Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).

Leona Kingscholar

…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).

Vil Schoenheit

Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.

Idia Shroud

Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.

Malleus Draconia

Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.

[dazednmatthews]

(crazy how) this love thing seems unfair~ m. sturniolo

short mini fic cause i lurve this song so bad. angsty asf w a semi-happy ending. enjoy my loves <3333

“mattttttt,” her voice is coated in sleep. “come back to bed.” matt is standing at his closet door, rubbing his own tired eyes. it’s about nine in the morning, much too early to be doing anything other than laying in bed with her.

“you know that i can’t, sweetheart. i have to go work with the guys.” he finally picks a top, a soft, white sweatshirt that’s semi-cropped.

“boooooooo.” she sits up, pushing the curls that escaped her bun away from her face. the look on her face almost makes matt want to say fuck it and stay right here.

after he puts on his shoes and cologne, he walks to the side of the bed and sits. she sinks into him, body melting into his touch. they sit there for a moment, no sound in the room except their breathing. it’s peaceful.

she leans up in his arm and places a kiss at the shell of matt’s ear, making the boy groan softly. “don’t do that. it makes me want to stay right here.”

another kiss, this time under his jaw. “that’s the idea.”

one of matt’s hands are kneading the flesh of her thigh, pausing momentarily to rub circles with his thumb. the other hand is planted gently on her waist. he grips a little tighter when she kisses the corner of his mouth.

“stop touching me like that if you’re leaving.” she whines, pulling away slightly. “so not fair.”

he pulls her back. “give me a real kiss.”

she shakes her head. “ew, no. morning breath, hello.”

matt gives her a flat look. “i put my literal tongue inside of you twenty four seven and you think i give a fuck about morning breath?”

she shoves his shoulder with an incredulous laugh. “it is nine in the morning, matthew!” her eyes are sparkling now. “tone it down.”

matt shrugs. “i’m just saying.”

there’s a brief moment where they lock eyes, and suddenly it’s like all the air in the room has been sucked out. matt moves his hand up, feeling the thrum of her heart beating rhythmically. it’s one of his favorite sounds.

she moves into his lap, his hands coming to the swell of her ass to steady her. her arms loop around his neck, face close.

she pulls him in, gently connecting their lips. the way the interlock is something out of matt’s wildest dreams, serenity coating him from head to toe. he’s tugging and grasping with all his might, always needing her closer.

he can feel her lashes on his cheek, can feel her nails on the nape of his neck, can feel her love through every swipe of her tongue. he never wants to be anywhere but here.

there’s a knock at the door. “matt, we gotta go!” it’s chris. “y’all are too quiet in there so i’m staying my ass out here.”

she breaks the kiss with a giggle. “duty calls.”

he groans, resting his head on her shoulder. “so not fair.”

though it’s a fight, from matt mostly, she untangles herself and stands. she extends a hand to pull matt up, giving him a chaste kiss. “it’s okay, matty, go. i’ll be right here when you get back. always.”

***

turns out that always didn’t mean forever.

there’s a low static sound coming from the t.v, but matt pays it no mind. he’s been sat there for what feels like hours, staring into the distance. he has no idea where his brothers are, something about a friends house or something.

it’s been a couple months since the two split. since matt’s entire world shifted off its axis. he hasn’t seen you since you came to drop off the box of stuff that was filling your apartment. still hurts like the first day though.

matt fights with the same urge he gets every night at about this time. during the day is easier. he’s either asleep or so busy with work that he doesn’t really think about the you-shaped hole in his life. doesn’t really think about the absence of your toothbrush in his bathroom, or the lack of your perfume on his sheets. yeah, the day is infinitely easier.

it’s at night, when he cracks. when he turns in bed and there’s no one there. when he can’t hear the sink running because you’re doing your ridiculous sixteen-step skincare routine. when he walks to his bed just fine because there’s no ill placed bag in the middle of the floor to trip over. it feels like walking into a room and immediately forgetting what you were meant to be doing. he knows something is missing, but he doesn’t know how to get it back.

he wants to call you. wants to talk. to sort through all the communication that wasn’t handled well. it wasn’t a messy breakup, or even a hostile one. and somehow, matt thinks that’s worse. he’d prefer yelling and arguing and just knowing you weren’t right for each other anymore.

but it wasn’t that. instead it was distance and tears and feeling like right now there just wasn’t enough space in each others lives for one another.

he didn’t want this. at all. he wondered if you felt the same. he’d stared at the phone countless night willing himself to dial the number. to draft a text. he’d spent just as many willing you to do the same. it never came though.

matt knows tonight is different. the hum of the ac is lulling the anxious feelings in his stomach. he knows by the way his shaky hands grab his phone that this time is going to be the one.

he doesn’t know what to say, nor how to get it out. he wants to pour his heart out, but he also can’t do that without looking at you. without seeing you and feeling the rush of unwavering love he always got whenever his eyes met yours. it wouldn’t be fair.

so he starts off light and hopes for the best. you always did used to say that he had a way of knowing you better than anyone else.

he hopes to god that’s still true.

a/n: i’m tewwwwww good to y’all fr. jus sumn lite bc i love that damn song soooo bad and it came on this morning and a giant ass cartoon lightbulb went off in my head. anyway number neighbor part five & six later today cause ik that’s what u guys really want 😭 i hope u guys like this okie bye i love you all sooooo bad!!!

TAGLIST:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @giannasturn @iluvmattsbeard @mattsmad @bambi-slxt

(also if i add tags based on requests and on comments so if u ever want to be taken off let me know!!!! jus send me an ask or a message and it’s no problem <3333)

[jordyn14]

Hey

Can you please write a Joe x wife reader where Joe and reader have been trying to get pregnant for a while and then reader finds out their pregnant and tells Joe in a cute way and he can’t contain his happiness

Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem first person

Words: 1600

Notes: since it’s my bday week and I’m having so much fun writing, I’m trying to get out fics a little faster this week! :)) thanks for the Request. <3

My eyes filled with tears as soon as I flipped over the pregnancy test and saw those two blue lines on the ClearBlue test. For 7 whole months Joe and I have been trying to get pregnant. We started after our wedding, hoping to see those two blue lines within two weeks, but two weeks turned into a month, and one into seven. Every single time we flipped over that test and saw one line and not two, we tried our best to stay positive, but it was hard. There were so many tears and I felt like we should just give up. I didn’t know how many more times I could take Joe’s same speech over and over again about how no matter how long it took, we would have our little family one day.

But now I was pregnant. I didn’t have to look into Joe’s eyes and tell him we weren’t pregnant for the millionth time. I didn’t have to stare into Joe’s blue eyes while he tried to hold back tears of sadness and watch as the hope was slowly draining from him.

As I looked up at myself in the mirror, tears rolled down my face and onto the counter under me. I was going to be a mom. It felt surreal to look at my stomach and realize that there was a little growing baby inside. I put my shaking hand over my mouth and I couldn’t stop looking at those 2 blue lines and at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I was on top of the world and thinking about telling Joe in just a couple of hours when he came home from practice overjoyed me. “I’m pregnant.” I told myself, not able to contain my excitement.

For the next two hours, time seemed to be going so slow. Every time I looked at my phone and expected a half an hour to pass, only ten minutes passed. I was restless. I wanted to tell Joe so badly. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized he was going to be a dad in just nine months. Not only were we going to be parents together, but I would get to raise a child with the most amazing man ever who isn’t just easy on the eyes, but is an incredibly person inside and out.

When I finally got the text from Joe saying he was on his way home, I practically sprinted upstairs and to my nightstand drawer where I kept a little mini Joe Burrow jersey and laid that down on the bed with the test on it. From the moment we started trying to get pregnant, I knew that I wanted to surprise him with his little jersey for our little son or daughter to wear when they’re born.

I sat on the bed and tried to pick through my different emotions. I was nervous, anxious, happy, worried, but mostly excited. Excited to be a mom. Excited to start our little family. From the moment I fell in love with Joe, I knew I wanted to create a family with him and now that was becoming a reality. Before we knew it, we’d have a little mini Burrow running around the house acting like a fool, and I couldn’t wait. Hey, maybe I was even carrying twins.

Before I knew it, I heard the front door swing open and just like clockwork, Joe said, “I’m home.” As soon as he said this, I couldn’t hold back the tears and started to cry some more. I just couldn’t contain the excitement. “Jordyn?” Joe called out, sounding a little worried, wondering why I wasn’t running over to give him a hug and ask him how his day was like usual. I wiped off a tear and sniffled back the tears a little bit. “Up here.” I answered him and stood up to meet him by the door. As I walked to the door frame, I could hear Joes footsteps getting closer and closer. My heart beat so incredibly fast in my chest and I couldn’t stop smiling.

As soon as Joe came into view and saw me crying, he dropped the bag that he was holding immediately. “hey, hey, are you okay?” He asked me and wrapped my in his arms. One hand was placed around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and the other was placed on the back of my head. With a smile, I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair he decided to grow out for the season. “Everything is more than okay, Joey.” I said. Once I said this, Joe pulled back to look me in the eyes and once he did, I noticed the slightly confused look on his face.

Leaning forwards, I placed a small kiss on joes lips and then let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. “Go look on the bed.” I said. Joe looked past me and at the bed and noticed something laying on it, but I could tell he was still confused. Dropping my arms from around Joes neck, he slowly let go of me as well and walked closer to the bed. I followed after him, waiting for him to realize that he was going to be a dad.

A small gasp left Joe’s lips as the realization that I was pregnant set in. I couldn’t help but smile as he reached down and grabbed the pregnancy test. After a few seconds, I walked to the side of him and watched as he ran his fingers over the mini jersey while holding the pregnancy test in his other hand. As I studied Joe’s face, I started to get nervous. There was almost no emotion or expression on his face. What if he changed his mind about kids? What if he didn’t want me to be pregnant right now.

Before I started to freak myself out more, Joe looked over at me with those gorgeous, tear filled blue eyes. “Oh wow.” Joe said simply as his bottom lip began to quiver slightly. I sucked in a breath at his reaction and started to cry more myself. Joe put his hand on his chest and took a step back, taking everything in. He kept looking at me, then the pregnancy test, me, then the pregnancy test. “I’m going to be a dad?” Joe asked me excitedly. “You’re going to be a dad.” I said, wiping off a tear that streamed down my cheek. The both of us started crying more as he closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me. Without me expecting it, he picked me up off of the ground gently and spun around in a circle, a little excited laugh leaving his mouth. I giggled while up in the air before he placed me back down on the ground.

Once down on the ground, we both held each other so incredibly tightly, so overwhelmed with the news. I buried my head in Joe’s chest and I could tell he was crying quietly. Unlike every other time we flipped the test over, they were happy and relieved tears. After so long of trying and feeling like nothing would work, he was finally going to be a dad. “I can’t believe this,” Joe said and pulled his head back, revealing his red eyes and nose, “our little baby’s in here right now.” He said, letting out a deep breath while looking down at my stomach.

It was hard for me to talk because of the tears. I opened my mouth to say something, but I knew if I tried to talk I would cry harder. With a smile, Joe took his hands off of me for a second and swiped his thumbs under my eyes to catch the tears before holding my face gently in his hands. He nodded with a small smile, letting me know he understood what I wanted to say. Letting go of Joe, I did the same thing and swiped under his eyes, getting a laugh out of both of us before gently grabbing his wrists, the both of us just gazing into each other’s eyes. I took a deep breath and let it out with a small laugh.

“We’re gonna be parent’s, Joey. Can you believe it?” I asked him. Joe just shook his head and looked back at the pregnancy test. “No. No, not really.” He chuckled and sniffled a little. “At least we know why you were sick this morning before I left for practice.” Joe said. “I totally thought it was those crab legs, they looked a little bit odd.” I giggled. Joe laughed and nodded. “They did look a bit funky didn’t they?” As we looked into each others eyes, Joe looked at me like I was the most beautiful, fragile, perfect women on the entire planet before closing the distance and placing a kiss on my lips. When we pulled away, we rested our foreheads together while making eye contact. “I love you…and our baby,” Joe said and looked down at my stomach, “more than anything in the entire universe.” Joe said. “Even SpongeBob?” I joked with him. “Yes, even SpongeBob.” Joe laughed and nodded. “Well in that case, I love you…and this baby,” I said and glanced down at my stomach like Joe did, “more than anything in the entire universe as well Joseph Lee Burrow.” I said.

[lizardsfromspace]

What's the worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years, and what's the worst thing about fandom that's always been true of it?

The worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years has been the incentivizing of fandom-as-conflict: not merely as a field in broader culture wars but as the field for endless intra-group battles.

This manifests in many ways: as seven hour videos complaining about The Last Jedi, as Twitter backlash campaigns, but also as stans defending their faves from any and all criticism real or imagined, as the endless boom-and-backlash cycle to any fandom meme or joke you see on Reddit, and as the drive for people to look for evidence other people discussing a thing they like are hysterical illiterate dolts, before anything else.

Or, in other words: a lot of fandoms are full of assholes these days, whose main interaction with fandom is using it as a reason to be an asshole, and to defend being an asshole. The actual “fandom” part of fandom no longer really exists for them. The discourse more or less is their fandom; someone whose main fandom activity is sharing videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) isn’t in the Steven Universe fandom, they’re in the videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) fandom. I mean, the chief fandom for many people is their side in the fandom war. What type of fanfic you write is secondary to what your affiliations are vis-a-vis battles over fanfiction

(One trend I've noticed is people who aren't at the stage where they only talk about what they hate and not what they love, but are at the stage where they can only talk about what they love in relation to what they hate. "I love this movie...and it proves this other movie is bullshit made by a hack". No ability to say just "I love this movie", period, end of sentence. This is how like two-thirds of Film Twitter talks about film, the remainder are all the grindhouse people going "man you've GOT to see Wrong Turn 5")

Another one, that I think is related, is that fandom’s become...more transitory, maybe? There’s Big Fandoms that are inescapable and then everything else feels like it’s here for a weekend and then it’s gone. And we’ve always had fandoms that endure and fandoms that vanish quickly, when the show runs short or turns out to be bad/boring, but we did use to have a lot of enduring if small fandoms for Okay shows most people hadn’t heard of and now you don’t really. Or they burn themselves out fast.

So we’ve reached this stage where fandoms are either so big they have seven hour long discourse videos, or they’re a smattering of fanart over the course of two weeks last August. But that isn’t really the fault of fans so much as modern media release schedules.

A lot of fandom activities of old are just...impossible now, with many shows? The slow build of speculation and fan works and in-jokes and theorizing and analysis simply can’t exist in a world where the premiere comes out the same day as the finale, and you can’t talk about the finale because you have no way of knowing if the person you’re talking to binged it all in one weekend or is still on episode four. That was the kind of thing that sustained the fandom of something that wasn’t a big hit, or even something that was. My fave fandom experience ever was watching the online Lost fandom wildly theorizing for all six years of Lost, and we’d never get “and what if the Smoke Monster is a dinosaur but only the head?” under a Netflix release model. Now at a base level, we either have shows nobody can discuss because nobody’s sure who’s seen or what, or shows where everyone just discusses the finale right away, and where you get One Week of Show and then a massive hiatus, which either kills all momentum or...drives fandom in the direction of hyper-analyzing everything and fighting because, well, what else is there to do? And that plus the outrage cycles of social media plus the fact that “man who yells at Star Wars” is now a viable career choice result in, well. *gestures upwards* All that

(Really, shout out to Cartoon Network for engineering the Steven Universe fandom to Be Like That through their inscrutable strategy of dropping episodes during one random week every five months or whatever)

As for something that's always been with it...cliques and a certain fannish elitism, like, that sees engaging with media in a fandom sense as more creative or analytical or intelligent than your average person. You see it now in the form of, like, people holding up fanfic above published fiction as more representative or authentic (I’ve seen more than one post on here strongly implying queer rep doesn’t exist in mainstream non-fic storytelling???), or going “well, we think about shows, unlike those normies watching sports”. But that was probably way more pronounced a thing in the past, in the 40-50s sci-fi fans were calling non-fans "mundanes" and calling themselves "slans" as an in-group signifier (a reference to a book with superintelligent psychic mutants known as slans). Like at the very least we should be happy no one’s calling non-fans “muggles” anymore. In the evolution from “mundane” to “muggle” to “normie” normie’s probably the least bad one

[mssainz]

PART 5 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: None

You woke up from the sunlight radiating from your window. It's been a few days since you and Carlos met. You don't want to talk to him after what happened.

Cael, I want to kick your father's crotch sometimes or maybe pull his wavy hair. Why does he have to be an ass?

It's still seven in the morning and Cael is still sound asleep on his bed. You went to his room and gave him a kiss before going to the kitchen. You have your morning coffee and a bagel, hoping that it would somewhat boost you to start your day.

You were scrolling through your contacts at the counter, when you felt a tiny hand grasping your pajamas. You were startled, almost choking yourself with the bagel. You looked down and saw Cael rubbing his eyes.

“Mama up,” Cael said, spreading his arm towards you. It is Cael's thing. He says that when he wants your attention and affection. He also does this randomly when he feels like you are having a bad day. Cael is an empath we might say.

You lifted Cael and kissed his plump cheeks. His head immediately rests on your shoulder. “Good morning, baby. How's your sleep?”

“Still sleepy Mama,” Cael said groggily.

“My baby is still sleepy. Okay, do you want to go back to bed or do you wanna have breakfast, honey?,” You replied, rubbing Cael's back.

“Breakfast Mama. I want a pancake,” Cael said, still resting his head on your shoulders.

“Okay, will you help Mama make pancakes?” Cael face you and gave you a nod.

Max, Lando, Carlos, Charles, and Daniel went for a quick break from playing padel. Everyone got their drink and sat down on the foldable chairs under the shade. They are taking their time before the race weekend.

“You're going aggressive with the ball man, huh?” Max said, pertaining to Carlos who is madly attacking whenever the ball touches his racket.

“I have a four-year-old son,” Carlos said, looking blankly at the esky.

“Oh yeah? Well, I have twins, a girl and a boy actually,” Lando said sarcastically, not believing a word Carlos said.

“You met him?” (Max)

“You mean Cael?” (Charles)

“Finally.” (Daniel)

Max, Charles, and Daniel said in chorus. Carlos confusedly looked at the three. On the other hand, Lando is busy gulping every single drop of his drink.

“You guys know Cael?” Carlos replied to the three.

“Who’s Cael? What am I missing?” Lando blurted out. Wiping and licking remnants of his drink on the corner of his lips.

“Yeah,” Max replied.

“What the hell? Since when did you know Cael?” Carlos asks, feeling betrayed.

“Ever since. Like when he was about to turn one.” Charles replied this time.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Lando said, trying to grasp what is going on.

“Why didn't you tell me, you bastards?” Carlos said. He is upset that how come that these guys know about Cael since he was one. But he only got to know him, now that he is already four .

“She wants us to tell no one about Cael, especially you. Plus, it's not our story to tell Carlos. You know that,” Daniel explained.

“But how did you meet him? Li- Like how?” Carlos asks them curiously. He is puzzled how it happened.

“YN contacted us telling us that she wants us to be your son's godfather,” Max said while swirling the RB drink in his hand.

“Godfather? Who among you is Cael's godfather?” Carlos confusedly asked. Max, Charles, and Daniel raised their hands.

“Plus, Lewis,” Daniel added.

“Wait, you and YN have a child? And I, Lando Norris, who is closest to her, is not a godfather?” Lando said in disbelief, summarizing what is happening at least in his point of view. He is feeling more betrayed than Carlos is.

“‘Cause you can't keep your mouth shut, Land,” Max said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, you will probably run happily to Carlos and tell him about Cael,” Charles added, teasing Lando.

“Yes. Spitting facts,” Daniel said, agreeing to both of them.

“But, btw how did you know Carlos? Did you meet them already? Did she tell you?” Carles throwing multiple questions.

“We met at the plaza by accident. She told me Cael is mine,” Carlos replied, not mentioning the details how.

“By accident? What happened then?” Daniel said, looking intently at Carlos like a gossip girl.

“Cael got lost at the plaza. I found him and gave him back to her. And you know what? Cael seems to know me. But looking at her reaction when I saw her with Cael, I can tell she doesn't want us to meet that way. So I introduce myself to Cael as Uncle Chilli.”

“Uncle Chilli what the fuck? HAHAHAHA. Cael knows you man. He knows that the Carlos Sainz is his father,” Max replied, laughing his ass off at Carlos.

“So there is still no proper introduction yet?” Charles said while covering Max’s mouth, shutting him up from laughing.

“Yeah, Y/N and I actually had a heated conversation,” Carlos said, almost a whisper.

“Don't tell me you fucked it up again?” Daniel asked, squinting his eyes at Carlos.

“Based on how he play padel, he did fucked up,” Max replied, answering it for him.

“Shut up Max,” Carlos rebuked. He knows he fucked up he don't need the boys shoving it into his face.

“I still don't know what to do. I'm still finding a way to talk to her again, maybe after the Spanish Grand Prix. But I guess, we just need to cool down for now.” Carlos stands up and walks back to the court with his racket.

“Yeah, you need to cool down but try not to smash the ball six feet off the ground!” Max said, not missing a chance to let his thoughts win.

Max and Charles followed Carlos to the court to play another round. Daniel remained sitting down for a bit to rest.

“Hey Lando, come on. What are you sulking about?,” Charles called out for Lando, who was pouting and not blinking.

“I'm not a Godfather,” Lando said, giving him a death stare.

“What the hell?” Charles replied, being done with the whole godfather thing.

“I know what you need to do. Baptize your son again and let me be a godfather. ¡Por favor, Carlos!” Lando yelled out to Carlos at the court. He just sighed and rolled his eyes at Lando, before throwing him the padel ball.

TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo

[tuliptic]

My Way: Finding My Place in Adulthood

Don’t be afraid, dreams are everywhere, just keep going as I always have, this is my way.

Henlo adults here, this is another reading for y’all. This reading is specifically targeted to all adults: young adults to ease their minds; regular adults to get used to adulthood. Adulthood is really… Something… And this is coming from someone who’s turning 30 soon. I still have no grasp about what I’m doing, how I’m living my life, etc. Adulthood is still scary to me, though I have to say I’m seeing myself getting better and better day by day. Taking baby steps is important, as we all grow from what we experience.

Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and ask yourself the question: How am I supposed to move around in adulthood, being an adult? Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.

Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck.

Pile 1: Don’t be afraid, dreams are everywhere

One card to represent you: The World

I feel like there’s some sort of fear and enlightenment here. Some of you have an idea of what you want to do or achieve in your life, some of you know your life purposes, most of you are content with how your life is right now and are just going with the flow. However, all have a certain discomfort in common, which is fear of uncertainty. Most here may have earth influence in your chart, where stability is needed, where you are able to hold certain control over your own life. What if I do this and I could no longer go back? What if I give up my job and pursue something else? You have the answers to these questions, but you’re not ready to take the first step because of how certain you are that things will not go as you planned and hence, you’re in a standstill. (PS: Some of you may be into spirituality as well, and you might be called to use this gift to achieve enlightenment for yourself and the people around you.)

1. What are the expectations I have for myself? - Four of Wands rx

For some reason, I feel that… You expect difficulties. You don’t expect or believe good things can come to you without lessons or pain. You believe in fairness and balance, that amazing things can only come to you if you put in the effort and work hard. Hence, you tend to not take certain opportunities either because you think you don’t deserve it or you don’t think you’re capable of it. In a sense, I’d say that this way of thinking has caused quite some conflict and tension, not allowing you to enjoy the peace and security you usually like. What has brought you comfort in the past is now hindering you to accept new happiness in.

2. Feasibility on achieving those expectations? - Seven of Cups rx

Seven of Cups is a card of illusion, but with it in reverse, it is a card of choice. This relates back to the first card pulled, the card to represent you. You know what to do, you are capable of doing it, but there’s fear holding you back. Or maybe, fears. To you, you’re not only jumping out of your comfort zone, but into a danger zone where you have no idea how to manage the risks. Accept your fears, let yourself fall, let yourself fail. Have courage, believe that you’ll still be able to stand up after the fall and grow better from it. You’ll be surprised with what you’re capable of.

3. What are my weaknesses and how do I compensate? - Death rx

This card here is very self-explanatory: You fear change. That’s it. You prefer stability over anything else, and you fear losing control over what you have. What is yours needs to remain yours. This may stem from insecurities that were caused by traumas when you were younger, may it be people leaving you, or being disappointed by others, or something else. It has definitely affected your thought process, your understanding of the world and your way around it. The first thing that came into my mind was therapy, because there are some deep-seated issues that you may have. You’ll need to identify your fear, the root cause of it, work it out, and step out to try something new, constantly regenerating yourself on the way.

4. What are my strengths and how do I get better at them? - Nine of Wands

You’re resilient. You may not think so, thinking that how you function is just the norm and everyone else does the same. No, you’re different. You have gone through a lot of things and those experiences help you manoeuvre yourself around the present issues, and you learn as you grind through the challenges presented. People may see you as an inspiration with how you manage to not dim your lights through the darkest nights. You need to know that you have a side like this, and that you’re able to encourage others through you being you. Shine. Accept yourself and shine brighter, be the inspiration you’ve wanted to be. You’ll be surprised with how things will fall in place and come to you.

5. What is it in adulthood that I should focus on? - Eight of Wands

I’d say building connections would help you in the long run. Eight of Wands is a card that talks about action, which is… Again, self-explanatory. But what sort of actions should you be taking? In what field? Connections and networking. I’d say most of you have a way with words, or some may even have 3H or 11H placements. By building a web of connections, you’re able to gather information and help from various parties that will help you to get on the right track. Some may even push you towards the direction that you want to head to. Be proactive in making friends, talking to people, and taking the first step. Once you throw yourself out, people will know you and will be able to provide the support you need. And then you can vroom your way.

6. What are the directions and advice that I need to know/hear? - Five of Pentacles rx

One comforting message here is that difficult times shall pass. You may think you overcame something but there’s more to work on, which you’ll realise that the issue you face is still affecting your decision making as of current. You’ve got to review your past and learn your lessons, know that you can’t afford to stay in this mindset for long. This card acts as a sign that it’s time for you to move from feeling insecure to a more adjusted mindset, which will be prompted when you see new perspectives. You will be receiving messages from your guides and higher selves in various forms. Trust your gut feeling, believe in every reason that makes you feel better.

Overall energy: The Tower, Five of Cups rx

The themes of lesson, growth and replacing things and values that no longer serve you. Liberation will come to you when you move past that phase that’s holding you back. Hmm… Lemme reword myself. This pile gives me the feeling of something promising is coming, but you’ll need to go through the lessons (aka accepting that good things can come to you without your expected cost, it’s alright to fail, the need to find out the root cause of insecurities, etc). Life will present opportunities to learn, and will bring in new people for you to grow together. You know you are loved. If you don’t know it, now you do. Believe it.

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Pile 2: Finally we begin

One card to represent you: The Empress

I would say that you have a gentle energy, you’re the person others go to when they’re feeling down or when they need some advice. You radiate a warmth that’s calming, providing a space of comfort for the hurt and wounded to rest and heal. You are intuitive, tho I have to say that your wisdom outshines it. It’s not just wisdom, it’s not just gentleness, but also a sense of belonging, a place where one returns to. Your intuition is what gives you the ability to see through things, people as well as the unknown. Some of you may have clair abilities, especially claircognizance. 

1. What are the expectations I have for myself? - Ten of Pentacles

I would say that you expect to build a life, build a family of your own, to be your own source of whatever you want. You do not want to rely on other people for things, especially financial abundance and happiness. You want to be your own provider so that you would feel secure with it, and that you’ll be able to contribute or give out what you have without needing to be conscious of how others look at you. There’s a hint of family themes among this, so it could also be you wanting to be the provider in your new found family without losing your own independence, if this makes sense.

2. Feasibility on achieving those expectations? - Ace of Swords rx

It’s doable, but it’s difficult. I feel that there’s quite some conflict between you and your family, resulting in you wanting to build a new family or to have your own found family. There’s this tension in you that is blocking a lot of blessings, I’d say. There’s a lack of clarity and undefined goals, preventing you from achieving success and happiness (depending on what you define them as). You will need to review your expectations, to set clear and measurable goals, only then you’ll be able to see your progress and further decide on how you want to proceed or to make changes along the way. Do not try to cover up facts or find excuses. You know that it’s not going to help you in the long run. Face it, accept it, work with it. 

3. What are my weaknesses and how do I compensate? - The Sun

Optimism is great, but being overly optimistic is not good. You tend to see the good side of things and may end up beautifying them, exaggerating them, or even fabricating them unconsciously. For some reason, I’m also seeing that you may be beautifying self-sacrificial tendencies, or attempt to attract people with your pain. You want to shine, want others to pay attention to you. Some of you may be prideful, but some would use whatever they’re “lacking” to attract attention. Example: Your friends use iPhone, and you use Android. Instead of saying you want to be different, you probably will go with the approach of “people who use iPhones are just keeping up with the trend and thinking that’s the higher end”, when in reality you can’t afford an iPhone. This is just an exaggerated example illustrated here for you to have an idea.

4. What are my strengths and how do I get better at them? - Death

Change is your forte. Some of you may not know it, but some of you do (and perhaps do not accept it). It’s not flexibility that we’re talking about, but more of an open-mindedness along with acceptance. Once you’ve overcome your weakness, you will be more open to listening to what others have to say, and forming your own opinion based on whatever information you’ve gathered (from others, from your own research, as well as updating outdated data). The transitioning phase will be smoother during then, when you shift from the old to the new. Right now, I’d say that there’s still a part of you who’s unable to accept that you’re wrong, or incorrect at certain things. There’s no fault in having pride over your knowledge, but if it is hindering you from improving, then you may need to work on that. 

5. What is it in adulthood that I should focus on? - The Emperor

Focus on your goals and what you want to achieve. For you, I’d say, one of your goals would probably be something that’s legacy related, may it be inheriting something (finance, career, skills, connections, etc.) or starting a new legacy (starting your own company, building network from scratch, starting to take up a very specific and niche role, etc.). I would also say that you’ll need to look straight ahead. The Emperor can’t afford to look around, only focusing on the path that’s in front of him where he tread carefully but boldly, carving the steps out for his people to follow (somewhat a legacy too). Do not be distracted, do not easily give in to temptation.

6. What are the directions and advice that I need to know/hear? - Eight of Cups rx

First thing I’d like to say is that your journey is going to be lonely. It’s not just going on that journey alone, but it’s something akin to a burden or a mission that you can’t tell anyone. You may have tried telling a family or a friend about it, and they don’t think it’s a big deal, resulting in you swallowing the pain alone, no longer willing to trust. The disappointment and disillusionment has uhhhh thicken around you. Think of them as fogs around you, and as they thicken, the more difficult it is for you to see your path. That. Communication with boundaries is very important for you right now, where you can put a balance between the socialisation and exposing yourself thoughtlessly. It’s difficult for some people, where you unknowingly overshare too much. Learn from it, find out a way that works for you. Open yourself to things, allow yourself to be open to inspirations from things and people around you.

Overall energy: Strength, Six of Swords rx

You’re strong, knowing where to go and how to reach your destination. Just that whatever that’s happening around you is preventing you from moving forward. You’re holding a lot of things back because whatever situations you’re in, but your passion and faith in life is strong enough to support you. You are doing your best with whatever you have right now, looking for opportunities in life’s challenges and learning the lessons. It is a difficult time, but have faith that things will turn for the better. Prepare your boat, and once the wind blows, set sail.

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Pile 3: No matter what I’m going my way, to the place I’ve dreamed of every night

One card to represent you: The Chariot

I would say that you’re someone who’s goal oriented. You know what you want and you'll work towards it. I would also say that you may be impatient at times, wanting to achieve things in a short time. It feels like you feel that you're running out of time, especially when you compare yourself to your peers. For example, people your age have been talking about career advancement while you're still figuring out what to do, or your friends are married with kids and you're still single and feeling miserable. You know you're on the right path at your own pace, and you appreciate your days and blessings, but sometimes you just feel anxious about being “left out”. 

1. What are the expectations I have for myself? - Three of Swords rx

You expect yourself to be healed from your wounds and traumas soon. You want it quick, you want it urgently, and you’re pushing yourself far more than you can deal with at the moment. You probably may have gone through some childhood traumas and you’ve left them as they are. It may be due to the society or environment you grew up thinking that whatever you experienced was normal (Asian families, perhaps?). You thought vulnerability was a fault until recent years, where you learn to accept and honour them, and from there you proceed to heal your inner wounds. You may have thought that once you’re done with Phase 1, you can immediately complete Phase 2 of your healing, and… Sorry to break it to you, it’s not gonna happen that way.

2. Feasibility on achieving those expectations? - Two of Swords

It feels like you’re asking yourself the question: Am I healed or not? And your answer to it is either yes or no. Which… Is not how healing works. Healing is a process; a journey, not a mathematical equation which is either right or wrong. You may think you’ve been healed but in reality, you may not have achieved that yet. You’re not seeing a lot of things yet, which is why you need to rely on your senses, especially hearing. You need to learn to listen to the whispers of others, may it be your friends or your guides. You are not alone, you have people accompanying you through this journey because you are loved. Healing is not linear, so take your time.

3. What are my weaknesses and how do I compensate? - The Fool rx, The Devil

I would say that you have expectations and you may think you’re living up to that, believing that you’re better and you live like it. … Lemme rephrase myself: You think you’re alright and that you’re living as how you expect yourself to be when you are not. It’s like you’re putting on a mask to deceive yourself and to show others that you’re doing fine. There’s this saying that you’ll need to fool yourself first if you want to fool your enemy. That’s you. You’re pretending and putting up an act, which will eventually cause your downfall to be greater than what you’ve experienced. Your insecurities are devils in disguise, which you probably know of. Now that you know of this side of yours, you will need to think and use your brain to figure out as you go. 

4. What are my strengths and how do I get better at them? - Four of Swords rx, Eight of Pentacles rx

I would say that you’re very action based, and you think a lot. One thing that’s special about you is that you know when to stop thinking. Unlike most people, once they start thinking, they spiral into their thoughts and have no way out. You, however, know when to stop and how to pull yourself out from that headspace. From there, you then use that energy and time to focus on earth-themed items, such as career, work, fame, building something, etc. You’re basically the healthy combination of brain and physical energy, making sure both of these aspects are taken care of, working on them when others are still trapped in their heads. If you think that you do not have this trait, maybe you can try it out. I believe all can achieve this, but your pile is able to tap into it easily as compared to others.

5. What is it in adulthood that I should focus on? - Four of Pentacles

Learning to focus on yourself, to put yourself first before others. I’m not sure if you’ve been called selfish for putting your needs above others, but you’re not. You can only share when you have extra/excess, and that’s when sharing becomes something comfortable and meaningful. Remember, you are not supposed to burn yourself to warm others. Let yourself have your own time, build connections with yourself and with others. Collaboration is something that you can work on, may it be work related projects or personal projects. Passion projects are things that will help you redirect your energy, and for you to keep yourself occupied when you realise your thoughts are jumbled up again with the excess energy.

6. What are the directions and advice that I need to know/hear? - Three of Cups

I would say that you will need to build your own home with people you trust in, with people you’re comfortable with. You may have gone through quite some family trauma, and your safe space may no longer lie with it. Remember, home is where the heart lies. As long as you feel comfortable, comforted and safe, you are home. For some reason, you may have been seen as the black sheep of your family. You have been told that you have great communication skills (may also have 3H placements), and it would be great if you know how to use that skill to its full potential. There’s more you can do with it, may it be drawing people to you, or drawing people away from people who harmed you. 

Overall energy: Judgement, Wheel of Fortune rx

I feel that you tend to judge yourself a lot, or people may have passed their biased judgement onto you when you’ve decided to not go their way. There are also some… Remnants? Of feelings of unjust? You have felt that life was unfair and things have not been going your way. Though you may have put that thought aside real quick cuz you believe in yourself more than what the stars or fate has said. You prefer to take things into your own hands instead of whatever higher beings there are out there, and I’d say that you’re doing a good job with it.

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Pile 4: I admit it now life is a long marathon, the difference is that I set the course

One Two cards to represent you: The High Priestess, The Lovers rx

The first word that came to me is intuitive. You know you’re intuitive and you have used your intuition on a lot of things that came into your life, may it be making decisions or using it to discern those who come close to you with agendas. But still, you probably have some… Troubles with love? Not necessarily romantic ones, but platonic and love towards yourself as well. For some reason, I feel that you may feel called to be a lover. It can be self love, but personally, I feel that the energy here is more outwards, where you are supposed to love others, and yet there’s no one out there deserving of your love. Some of you may have 12H or Pisces placement as well, which may give others an impression of being dreamy or drunk in love. (My logical head thinks so, but for some reason I’m feeling that heart-clenching feel, as well as a sense of loss. Not sure how to phrase it well tbh.)

1. What are the expectations I have for myself? - The Moon rx

Weirdly, for some reason, I’d say that you expect yourself to be… Different? You know you’re different and that you may sometimes feel that you are unable to align with how this world functions. Hence, when you feel you’re becoming too “earthly”, you may feel torn, because you expect yourself to do or achieve “unearthly” things, eg: to be a spiritual guru, to do reiki healing, etc. You are definitely one pile that is more prone to the spiritual side of the world, where you’ll often have a nagging feeling at the back of your head when you’re not doing anything of that sort. 

2. Feasibility on achieving those expectations? - The Empress

It is definitely something achievable, that is, if you focus on healing yourself as well as creating meaningful bonds with the people around you. One of the main themes of The Empress is to nurture, which you are called to not only nurture the people around you, but also to nurture yourself. You will also need to be with the right group of friends who will be able to help you flourish (and of course, you helping them as well, as this is a mutual relationship). I honestly don’t know what else to say about this because the message is repetitive, and I think you know it as well. 

3. What are my weaknesses and how do I compensate? - Two of Cups rx

This card in this position talks about tension, deception or even lack of trust between you and your spiritual side. For some reason, I’m feeling that you are holding too strongly to a certain thought or a belief. It causes stress and fatigue, making you lose hope in the process. Instead of taking a forced “temporary” approach, it would be better for you to reflect on what it brings you, and to let go of past beliefs that no longer serve you. Two of Cups is supposed to be a card of joyful celebration, a union between two parties. You will need to turn the card upright. It’s time to release the old and embrace the new, only then you’ll be able to grow into your very best self.

4. What are my strengths and how do I get better at them? - Six of Swords rx

I would say that one of your strengths is special, because it is not so to a lot of people. You do not let your problems push you, but you work your way with it. See, most people’s first reaction is to solve the problem or to run away from it, but you choose to live with it and rebuild your life around it. There’s a part of you that is unwilling to make your life a mess by running and avoiding the problems. You surrender. Not in a negative way. You surrender the pain and stress, you abandon the old, limiting beliefs, and you live in the present. The best way I can describe it is… It’s like you’re a monk, where you live with whatever that is happening around you. Waves (troubles and challenges) are around you, and you’re on the boat, keeping yourself calm, not bothering with what the world is doing, keeping your calm. It's like you know there's a life after death and that you're working on it right now instead of being present in the current earthly life.

5. What is it in adulthood that I should focus on? - Ace of Wands

Ace of Wands is the first card in the Minor Arcana. What I’m picking up from here is that you’ll need to create a new beginning for yourself. I wouldn’t say it’s The Fool kinda journey, because The Fool’s journey is of meeting people and learning the lessons on the way. Your kind of journey is understanding what you want, seizing opportunities, and turning your enthusiasm into actions. You have an idea of where you want to go, when you want to reach there, how you’re going to move, with whom you will want to travel on this journey. I would also say that it would be a great time for you to filter your circle so that you’ll be able to go on this journey with the least distraction.

6. What are the directions and advice that I need to know/hear? - Four of Pentacles rx This is a time where you should consider relaxing your mind and remember that you cannot control what others are doing or holding. You know you have enough, and instead of focusing on the action of others, focus on yourself instead and how you can block out the noises. With this done, you will be able to move from a period of control and fear and anxiety to a stage of being more open (and blank). It’s like… Once you are able to clear your mind, those noises no longer mean a thing to you, and you’ll be able to focus on yourself and what you want to achieve. I’m also picking up words like “zen”, “calm” and “enlightenment”. … Yeah the word “monk” too.

Overall energy: The Devil, The Chariot

I am feeling some self-sabotaging themes here. It may sound difficult to accept but I do think The Devil here talks about you, where you’re embodying some traits, thoughts or beliefs that you’re unwilling to let go. Y’know how some things turn toxic when there’s excess or if you hold onto it for too long? That. It’s burdening you and you probably are actively trying to run away from it. I’m having the image of you being annoyed at how you’re not progressing, and you end up flipping the table, scattering all the plans you’ve made for yourself. Probably some big changes are bound. Clear up the space and welcome your spirit guides to show up in wondrous and unexpected ways.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Cash Slave, reporting in...

Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!

I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!

Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!

I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!

See you tonight, master!

Hello sir.

It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.

You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.

That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.

Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.

Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.

Thank you again, sir.

Hello boss.

Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.

I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.

It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!

The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!

Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!

Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!

Tell my wife hello for me, master!

Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.

The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!

You deserve it all.

I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.

Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!

I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!

Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?

I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.

My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!

As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!

As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.

I'll be awaiting your return, sir.

Hey little bro,

I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.

He's such an idiot.

Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.

I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.

Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!

[andreisvechnikov]

Hurricanes’ Seth Jarvis leans into status as an honorary Harvard grad

By: Luke Decock, April 24, 2024

When Tripp Tracy was asked to speak at a meeting of the Harvard Club of the Research Triangle last week, he naturally invited the Carolina Hurricanes’ two other Harvard Men to join him. Jack Drury, owner of a Harvard diploma, class of 2023. Seth Jarvis, owner of a “Harvard Alumni” T-shirt, class of not quite veritas.

Neither Drury nor Jarvis could attend because of the team’s pre-playoff dinner gathering, but Jarvis was nevertheless welcome despite his self-proclaimed “Grade 6” education, because if there’s one thing that’s true about the Hurricanes’ third-year forward above all else, it’s that if you try to make him the butt of a joke, even a heartfelt, good-natured one, he’ll find a way to turn it back around on you.

When Drury returned from his Cambridge graduation last summer with the crimson T-shirt as a gift for Jarvis, he never expected Jarvis to cut off the sleeves.

He never expected Jarvis to make it his undershirt and wear it under his shoulder pads every single day of the season. For every practice. Every game. Every postgame interview.

“I thought, there’s no better way to put it to use than cut it into a tank top and wear it under my gear,” Jarvis said.

Seth Jarvis. Harvard alum. The shirt says so.

“There have been a few people who have seriously asked me if I went to Harvard,” Jarvis said, “and they’ve obviously never had a conversation with me.”

The Hurricanes have always had a strong connection to Harvard, through Tracy and his youth teammate and future front-office executive Jason Karmanos, through players like Craig MacDonald and Craig Adams.

They’ve had players from the rest of the hockey-playing Ivy League schools as well, other than Brown: Jeff Hamilton (Yale), Kevin Westgarth (Princeton), Lee Stempniak (Dartmouth), Riley Nash (Cornell). Now Drury. And, apparently, Jarvis.

“I think it’s been awesome,” Tracy said. “I would have liked to have had him on the roster.”

Even within the hockey world, it’s hard to imagine two teammates as different as the goofy Manitoban and the cosmopolitan Harvard grad becoming so close. Jarvis left home at 14 to play junior hockey in the Western Hockey League and was in the NHL by age 18.

Drury, scion of a prominent hockey family, spent two years at Harvard and another year overseas in Sweden; even though Drury is two years older than Jarvis, Jarvis has played more than 100 more NHL games than Drury.

The two are akin to brothers as much as they are friends or teammates, so when Drury gave Jarvis the shirt, it was with the best of intentions. Still, give Jarvis an inch or two, he’ll take all 200 feet, same in the dressing room as on the rink.

“I got it for him hoping he would wear it,” Drury said. “Using it as the undershirt, I love that. I didn’t know he’d do that. Once he started to do it, I thought it was awesome. He’s a character. But you couldn’t have a better guy around the room.”

Every single day, the shirt goes into his laundry bag to be laundered with the rest of the team’s base layers, an old-school throwback amid the sweat-wicking, high-tech gear.

By now, seven months into the season, as the Hurricanes head north for Thursday’s Game 3 against the New York Islanders with a 2-0 lead in their first-round series, the T-shirt should probably be in tatters. It looks just fine. Other than the missing sleeves.

“It’s hung on,” Jarvis said. “It’s high quality. Only the best at Harvard.”

At the end of the regular season, when Jarvis sat in on the Bally Sports broadcast with Tracy and Mike Mansicalco while sitting out Game 82, he told Tracy he would have liked to major in “micro-macro engineering” at Harvard, which sounds like a typical Jarvis malaprop, mishmashing economics and engineering. But it also could very well be somebody’s bespoke “special concentration” in Harvard’s engineering school, studying “theories of engineering principles” or the “interactions between microscopic innovation and large system models.”

Jarvis, with his elite hockey IQ and even quicker wit, may be more evidence that you don’t have to be book smart to be smart. He plays up the dopey-goofball angle because it gets laughs — “There’s still a lot of stupidity going on throughout my day,” Jarvis said — and won the Josef Vasicek Award this season for his quotability, but he’s the son of two educators, and there’s a spark that animates both his personality and his game, burning bright under all the self-deprecating humor.

“He plays a little dumb, but he’s pretty smart actually,” Martin Necas said. “I’m positive. He’s pretty smart. He just makes himself look like it on purpose, sometimes.”

Watching his game grow over the past two seasons, as he spent last year becoming a two-way player and this season reaping the rewards, it’s fair to wonder what would happen if he applied himself in the classroom as he has to his hockey career. Who knows what might be possible.

“It’s never too late,” Drury said. “He plays it up a little bit but he’s smarter than people realize. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

And the T-shirt over his shoulders to sort-of prove it.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Ughhhh, it happened again! I swear this is almost every time I go out these days, it's getting ridiculous! I was out running errands, about to get some coffee, when I took a moment to hold my belly and pant a bit. You know, normal contractions every girl carrying quintuplets gets like constantly. I'm only six months along! But I guess an ambulance parked nearby saw it and, well, you know the new laws. Basically pregnant girls are public property, and at least in my line of work (school teacher), I have to maintain a pregnant physique or I can get fined, even lose my job. Same with healthcare, food service, retail, hospitality.... Most jobs, honestly. Welcome to Georgia, I guess. Still happy I got transferred here a couple years ago but these laws are a bit out of hand.....

Speaking of which! The ambulance pulls up, two men come out. I try to stop them but they insist on testing me for signs of labor. I explain that I'm only six months and they tell me to be quiet so they can do their jobs. They remove my clothes with scissors and shoot me up with some kind of opioid that makes me really loopy and high. They take me to the hospital as the men take videos of me on their phones, spreading my legs, showing off my pussy, spreading it open under the guise of looking for how dilated I am. But they were literally playing with my pussy, rubbing it, sticking their fingers in with gloves, shoving instruments into it. At one point about seven different instruments were jammed into my pussy and I came, squirted all over. They got mad and told me if I act up like that they can't perform their jobs. I apologized for cumming.

They took me in and surprise-surprise, the ER was full of pregnant girls. Some were texting on their phones, shaking their heads as they got C-sections, filming themselves having it done, as others impatiently waited to be stitched up afterwards, grumbling about just wanting to go home and get knocked up again already. Aloof male nurses and physicians would pass them by and tell them not to be so impatient, that they were very busy...... mostly just probing and abusing cute pregnant girls.

They ran their 'tests'..... again, happened to me just a few days ago. So I'm used to it. They squeeze my tits and got 'milk samples'. I have to give them urine samples, over and over, as I piss with no privacy in a busy auditorium they used as an ER, full of girls like me, with various lines for either labor, forced C-sections, or general 'testing'. They of course gave me an enema, in a crowded room, complaining about the mess I was making as other girls were subjected to the same in one corner that was all tile with some showerheads. We were sprayed off and dried off as they had salon workers there doll us up before we were subjected to 'labor sensitivity testing'.

I tried explaining that I'm six months but they had ten different men with huge cocks fuck my pussy. A few even tried my ass, too, to see if I was susceptible to being induced. Nope. My womb can handle all the punishment Georgia can throw at it. I commute on public transportation, doesn't matter how pregnant I am, men try to fuck the babies out of me, like, every day. No luck! So, after that they told me I was OK'd to go home, as my babies weren't quite big enough for them to put me in the C-section area with all those other bored influencer girls.

So, with my hospital bracelet, purse, and jewelry as my only clothing, they spanked me on my way out the door of the hospital and told me not to be a stranger. I walked home naked, got fucked about ten times on the way back. I was even paid by a few guys who thought I was turning tricks. Guess I can add whore to my resume now. I even got fucked in line, paying for my coffee. The man behind me didn't say a word. I started paying and he just rammed his cock in me and started fucking me. Big fat nerdy guy, but his cock was big. Probably hasn't showered in a week. Instead of telling him to stop having his way with me, another cashier opened a different register, and they said nothing until he came inside me, spanked me, then smacked my belly a few times while climaxing. The cashier finally told me I was holding up the line after that, and I left, not before one of my neighbors fucked me as I checked our mailbox. He apologized afterword and told me I look incredibly sexy so pregnant. I thanked him and reminded him I'm only six months.... Now it's time for a shower. After that I might go back out. Who knows.... another ambulance might spot me. ❤️"

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

TW: NSFW, bondage, uncomfy situations

The next time you see Dr. Julian, (which isn’t at the jail, because you fucking tried to go bail him out and they just looked at you like you were crazy when you kept insisting Dr. Julian Mercer had to be in there) he has a red mark around his neck, a black eye, and a bump on his temple that’s almost the size of a chicken egg. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you hiss, rushing over to him. He takes your elbow and ducks the two of you into a supply closet. You think he just wants to have a private conversation, until he backs you into the shelves with a tonsil-inspecting, toe-curling kiss, his big hands digging into your waist. You grab fistfuls of his lab coat, you are so surprised it doesn’t even occur to you to fight him. When he finally pulls back you are breathless—and in shock. 

He seems to find this adorable, reaching up to caress your face. “Now all that was worth it,” he says cheekily.

You blink up at him, stupid as a lamb. “Did he hurt you?” you demand, trying to inspect the mark around his neck. 

“We reached an understanding,” Julian assures you with a dark look, taking your hands in his own. 

“But—“

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. Really.” It comes out like an order, and you don’t really like it when he talks to you that way, but you guess you understand that he doesn’t want to talk about Ludlow anymore.

“Ok.”

You are so going to worry about it. You also know there’s no way in hell that he’s going to want to see you anymore.

He looks down at you with that soft expression that warms your insides. “When’s your next day off?” 

You blink again. “Friday?”

“Can I make you dinner?”

“You want…to cook for me?”

“At my place. Around seven. I’ll text you the address.”

You’re still not sure if that was a request or an order, but you’re so dumbfounded that it doesn’t even occur to you to offer an opinion.

“But what about…?”

“I’m not scared of him, y/n.” The marks on his face indicate that maybe he should be, but the set of this man’s jaw indicates that maybe Ludlow has met his match. 

“I’m really sorry. About all of this.”

“I already told you, it’s not your fault.” There’s a flinty note in his voice, and you can tell he just wants you to drop it. Inwardly you flinch a little, but you nod. 

***

You suppose because he’s banned from being treated by you at the hospital, pulling you over in the dead of night after your shift becomes his go-to game. Maybe you should have started taking a different route home, but the highway was the fastest (and usually safest) way to go, and the thought of changing your personal day-to-day just for this asshole makes you see red. You refuse, and so you keep getting pulled over, four more times for weaker and weaker excuses. Not signaling when changing lanes. Using your phone (you weren’t). An obstruction to vision hanging from your rearview. And the cherry on top—too dim fucking blinkers? 

He even has the gall to check up on you, going so far as to inspect your wrists one evening, and turning your head from side to side with an authoritative finger hooked under your chin. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demand. 

“Just making sure Dr. Bitch is behaving himself.”

“That is none of your business.” 

“If he hurts you I’ll make it my business.” He just says it so casually. Water is wet, the sun is hot, and Tom Ludlow will fuck up Dr. Mercer’s day if he hurts you, even with consensual rough play. No one has ever stuck their neck out for you like that, and it is not helpful, what this misplaced concern does to your insides. This guy is 300% Pure Asshole. You should not be warming to him. 

Truth be told, you are nervous about your date with Julian tomorrow night. Maybe he’s being sweet and cooking for you—but it will also be on his home turf, like meeting a wolf in his den. You don’t really think Julian would hurt you. In fact, the thought seems absurd. But then again…people never cease to surprise you. You see the result of mankind’s insatiable bloodthirst every day at work. 

Despite your completely misplaced feelings for Officer Tom Ludlow, the fact stands that he is absolutely harassing you, and what he did to Julian outside the coffee shop was totally unacceptable. Maybe you don’t have any money to sue the LAPD like Julian does, but you’re not totally without a voice. The next morning you find yourself going downtown to the Police Headquarters to file a complaint. 

The place is bustling, filled with uniforms and plainclothes and people from every walk of life. It reminds you of the hospital in a way, and a wisp of a thought occurs to you that it’s interesting that you and Officer Ludlow engage in the two professions that truly hold together the fabric of society. Politicians like to think what they do is important, but the two of you do the real dirty work to help people survive through their day to day. There could have been something to that between you—if he wasn’t such a fucking creeper in his off hours. 

You follow the signs and the directions from various people behind desks to the Complaints Department. It’s a cordoned off area enclosed by glass. With your hand on the door handle you see who is sitting there behind a cheap mdf wood desk, looking unfairly handsome in his black beat uniform.

You freeze. 

How the fuck is he everywhere at once? It dawns on you that if he’s working his shift here during the day—he’s fucking with you on his own time at night. It simultaneously creeps you out and thrills you to your toes, and you know you are one sick puppy. 

You know you don’t have the guts to march in there and face him, so you decide to bounce. Of course, not before he turns his head at just the right moment. It’s like this man has a radar for your very presence, and your eyes meet through the glass. 

He knows exactly why you’re here, of course, and he smirks at you as though to say, ‘Tell me all about it.’ 

Bastard. 

You turn on your heel, and pray he doesn’t follow you. 

***

Later that night, you find yourself seated at the island with a glass of white wine in Dr. Mercer’s Spanish Revival style home in Santa Monica, watching him cook for you. He’s utterly edible, in a pressed light blue button down and khakis that should look dorky but somehow he just makes them look GQ worthy. He’s even worn a tie for you. He’s also wearing an apron, and it’s not so corny as to say Kiss The Cook but you did anyway first thing upon walking through the door. You’d asked if you could help with the meal, and he’d declined with a gracious smile. 

Now, you’re pretty sure he parked you here so you could get a view of his tight little rear end as he works at the stove. 

You take another big sip of wine. It’s really not fair in the least. 

He serves up chicken piccata with fresh vegetables out on the patio, complete with candlelight. The warm night breeze is like the breath of angels, and it’s possibly the most romantic dinner anyone has ever treated you to, and it makes you almost uncomfortable inside, how nice all this is. You know he’d said that he liked you, and he didn’t want a perfect girlfriend…but you can’t help but feel like an imposter here. 

There were no candlelit dinners with homemade Italian food and fine wine back in Kansas. There were bonfires in someone’s daddy’s back farm field, copious amounts of beer, and you were lucky if you didn’t get knocked up on the bench seat of someone’s rusty old pickup truck before the night was out. Yee fuckin’ haw.

“You alright?” he asks, reaching across the table to touch your hand. 

You realize that you have zoned out, while he was talking, again. 

“Fine,” you answer quickly, bolstering yourself with another sip of wine. You’re on your second glass now—you should probably slow down, but it’s so good. “I was just thinking…about how nice, all this is. Thank you, Julian. You’re so sweet.” 

He smiles at you from across the table, a winsome and heart-squeezing curl of lips, and he’s so handsome even with the now healing black eye. 

“I’m maybe sensing some anxiety stemming from Imposter Syndrome,” he says gently. 

“Is that your official diagnosis, Doctor?”

You can tell he likes it when you talk this way to him, even outside of the hospital. You can see it in the sparkle of his lovely mocha-brown eyes.  “Something like that.” He leans in towards you, his elbows on the little bistro-style table, pinning you with that acute stare. “I don’t know what happened to you, where you came from, y/n. Maybe you’ll trust me enough to tell me later. But I do know that it’s in the past, and it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something nice for yourself now. Does that make sense?”

It hits way too close to home, and with a sigh you lean back in your chair, unable to meet his eyes again. 

“It sounds so easy, when you put it that way.”

He tilts his head as he examines you, and you’re afraid that attentive stare misses nothing. “I could make it easy, for you,” he offers quietly. Something about that soft but oh-so-sure tone lifts every little fine hair on your body, a wave of gooseflesh erupting across your skin. You feel like a rabbit flicking its ears at the sound of danger, not quite sure which direction it’s coming from. 

“What do you mean?” you dare ask. 

“It’s part of the appeal of submission for some people, to hand over complete control to someone you trust, to let them make you feel good. It can be an almost…therapeutic release. I think I could do that for you.” 

Your heart chooses that moment to lodge itself in your throat, and it takes an embarrassingly long few seconds for you to find your voice again. As usual when you feel wildly uncomfortable, you opt for humor.  “Wow, do you subscribe this to your patients often?”

He chuckles, and it is dark and rich as bitter chocolate. “No, though maybe I should.”

You can’t help but notice you haven’t even made it through the main course, before he is bringing this up again. It must be something he really wants from you—and a part of you still finds that so hard to believe. He’d said your defiance on that patient’s discharge triggered this need in him. You wonder if there are other things about you, that has made him zero you out. It’s happened to you before. Narcissists just seem to sniff you out like they’re fucking bloodhounds. 

Is Julian like that, underneath all the good looks, the pleasantness, the charm?

Does he think you’d be easy to control? Or does he want a challenge because your dumb ass is stubborn as a mule? 

Does he know that if things go badly, you have no one here to offer recourse?

Unless, of course, you count Officer Tom Ludlow, but dear lord that is not the backup plan you want to rely on. 

“Well…I’m still thinking about all that,” you deflect, throwing your attention into coiling pasta around your fork, trying not to appear like a complete philistine.   

He has the grace not to appear disappointed, though there is a certain sharpness in his look now, and you have a feeling Dr. Mercer is not used to not getting his way, eventually. 

***

Julian does let you help with the dishes, and pours you yet another glass of wine. “Digestivo,” he says with a perfect accent and a little smile to himself. He explains it’s the word for the “after dinner drink” in Italy. Apparently it’s usually a liquor, but it seems he doesn’t want you that drunk. 

At least, not yet.

He asks if you want to watch a movie or listen to some music? You agree, ask him to pick something out, and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. When you return he is stretched out on the couch, looking utterly handsome, and you find yourself just staring while his head is turned towards the massive TV.

“I know you’re there,” he finally says with a little smile, turning to look at you knowingly. Cautiously you approach, glad for some reason that the tall back of the leather couch is between you. Perhaps the soft little woodland creature that will forever live inside you senses the wolf nearby, even if it’s wearing Brooks Brothers. 

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, soft-pawing further into the room. You dare to lean on the back of the couch to look down at him, not quite ready to join him on his level. He seems to understand all too well, and is completely amused by it.

“That’s ok. I can’t keep my eyes off you either. You’re so beautiful.”

You let out a long breath through your nose, never comfortable with what to say to it. You’d been assured by so many people in your early life, that you were in fact an ugly little toad worth less than nothing. Later, those that told you that you were pretty, hurt you in different ways. You wish you could just…take it at face value, and say thanks, without overanalyzing it six hundred ways from Sunday.

“You don’t think so?” He asks, looking up at you with curious eyes. Since you walked through his door tonight, you’ve felt like he’s been studying you, and you sincerely hope it’s not to find your weaknesses and exploit them but rather understand them. 

It would be so nice to be understood by a man like Julian, even if he is chaining you to a wall and whipping you while doing it. The thought makes you giggle, and this seems to perplex and amuse him. 

“Well?” He asks, reaching up to boldly smooth your cheekbone. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?” 

You try to blame your honesty on the wine when you answer truthfully: “not really.” 

Most men don’t want to hear about insecurities and flaws; they want self actualized, confident women who carry themselves in a way you’ll never be able to. It's hard to have self esteem, especially when you’ve spent the majority of your life getting told you shouldn’t have any. 

“Hmm.” His thumb rests lightly on your chin, and he parts your mouth a little like he means to kiss you, although he makes no actual move to do so. “That’s another thing I could help you with.”

You're a little lost in the white capped crash of your thoughts, of the pleasant heat in his long, skilled fingers, of the endless dark in his blown black eyes. It takes you a full thirty seconds to think about the conversation, and even then you have to stupidly ask: “what?” 

“Feeling beautiful, because you are.” Maybe you don’t mind the bossy, matter of fact tone as much when it’s demanding that you’re worthy and pretty. 

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You ask, because you can’t stop thinking about how good his mouth feels on your face. 

“Ask me nicely.” That big thumb runs a torturous line over your parted bottom lip.

“You ask me,” you challenge, giggling at your own insolence. 

Oh, he loves that, when you push back. The wicked, lazy grin says it all. “How about I make you?”

You press your tummy against the soft, worn leather of his couch to lift yourself up and over, cupping his cheeks and pecking a little kiss to his silky lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

Apparently this is the absolute wrong thing—or absolute right thing—to say to this man, to make him spring up and over the couch, lithe as a panther in his pursuit of you, a feral grin in place. You are not proud, but your first instinct is to bolt, a little scream escaping your lips.

Which is stupid, of course, because he has the body of a runner and legs that are a mile long. You have no idea where you are going, down a convenient hallway. You make it three steps before this man has you grabbed up in his long arms, and he is kissing you as though he means to inhale you. He presses you into the wall, his solid weight so delicious against you, and you know there is no escape unless he decides to let you go.

Somehow, you don’t forsee that happening any time soon. 

You surge up on tiptoe to meet him with a moan, your hands sliding over the trim muscles of his chest. He easily grasps both your wrists in his one, obscenely big paw, pinning them above your head.

He pulls back to assess what you think about this, his dark eyes blown wide with desire. You can barely breathe past your heart thundering in your chest, your thighs pressed tightly in a sad attempt to relieve some of the ache between them. You lips are kiss-swollen and moist with his saliva, and you lick them, tasting him. His gaze fixes on your mouth hungrily, before lifting to your eyes again.

When you give the barest nod, he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, but no less claiming. His lips are soft, and clever, and wreak havoc with your ability to think coherently. And when he slips his lean thigh between your legs so that you might get some relief, you think you might just expire from the pent up desire threatening to burst you at your seams.

It’s not good, you know, when you can’t help but think about Detective Tom Ludlow, and how part of this aching madness in your loins is built up from his brash brand of torture, and you can’t help but imagine what it might be like to feel his rough hands pinning you to the wall like a butterfly. Maybe it’s just the wine, but these distracted thoughts are not good at all.

Julian half carries you, half guides you in a halting walk further down the hallway, opening a door and ushering you inside. It’s a bedroom, though if its his room, you can’t really tell at a glance. It’s nicely decorated, fairly normal, no chains hanging from the ceilings or racks on the walls, and the bed is soft as he presses you back into it with another bone-melting kiss.

He props himself on his elbows so he can look down at you with a mischievous warm smile that lights up your insides. “You really are beautiful,” he tells you gently, tracing your hairline at your temple.

God. If he keeps telling you like this, maybe you will start believing him. 

You tug on his tie to bring him back to you, craving another of his sweet kisses. He narrows his eyes at you playfully, and you watch with fascination as he reaches up to loosen the silk noose around his neck. 

“Wait.” You halt him, hand on his chest, and he stops the little show. 

“What? You okay?” It doesn’t occur to you that this man is just as needy as you are until you hear the heavy pant in his voice, the gravelly scratch of desire polluting his usual smooth pitch that reminds you way too much of someone else that you’re trying not to think about—and failing miserably at. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that,” you say honestly, opening up raw in exchange for the concern on his pretty, angled face. 

“Being tied up?” He asks, smoothing your hair off your temple. 

“No, I’ve been tied up before.” Although that’s a story for a different day, it’s not like you’re the Virgin Mary, and you don’t want to be—you don’t want him to think that you are—a prude. 

“Was it…a bad experience for you?” As he asks this he strokes your hair, petting you like soothing an animal with his light touch.

You hate to say, it’s working.

“Kind of.”

“Maybe…they didn’t stop something you didn’t like when you asked them to?”

That was the understatement of the century.

You close your eyes against the sinking feeling that overcomes you, when you even slightly crack the lockbox that is your stockpile of unpleasant memories from your youth.

“No,” you answer simply, but you know he can hear it all in the roughness of your voice in that one small word.

“What if we have a safeword? If I do anything you don’t like, you say the word, and I promise you I will stop.”

You freeze like a rabbit that's been spotted by a predator, as you mull this over. You know that’s how these things are supposed to go. But once a man has you tied up and at his mercy…he can do anything he wants with you. And men can be so awful, when they feel like they have all the power in their hands.

Is this man awful? It certainly doesn’t seem so. But dear god, you have been so wrong before.

“Maybe….” You roll your eyes up to the ceiling, searching for the right words, determined, for once, not to hide your own needs in favor of someone else’s. “Maybe if you help me understand why this is something you need so much?”

You know it’s possible you’re killing the vibe with such a demand—but maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to slow down and talk.

He blinks down at you, undoubtedly not used to being inquisitioned like this by anyone. “That’s…a big question.”

A surge of annoyance rises in you—as if dating isn’t dangerous enough for women as it is—he’s literally asking you to trust him with your life.

“Oh my god. Ok, get off.” You start to squirm beneath him, pushing at his chest. For a moment you panic, because he is big, and you know he’s not going anywhere, unless he wants to.

To his credit, and your great surprise–he actually does. He seems disappointed, and his breathing is heavy, his beautiful hair disheveled, but he’s not angry. At least, as far as you can tell. He shoves his hands in his pockets, maybe to keep them off of you.

It is hard not to stare at the sizeable bulge in his preppy khakis.

He blows a long breath out of his nostrils, closing his eyes. “I like to be in charge,” he tells you quietly, not opening his eyes, “Because when I was far too young, my stepmother groomed me to be her pretty plaything. I thought I was getting revenge on my father, because I was angry at him for divorcing my mother. But the joke was on me. I did…anything she asked, and she asked a lot. I didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, until I went away to college. When she sensed she was losing her hold on me, she actually tried to get me to drop out, then she tried to get me expelled. She was a fucking piece of work, and that’s why I am the way I am.” 

When at last he works up the courage to look at you, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed in your pretty dress like a rumpled flower, with tears in your eyes for him. “I’m so sorry, Julian…” You reach for him, even though you’re unsure he even wants to be held.

“And I like to bind my partners’ hands, because sometimes being touched during what should be the most wonderful act a man can enjoy reminds me of her, and I can’t stand it. Even…when I’m with someone who I want to touch me.” He gives you a pointed look then, and you understand, and you don’t think he’s trying to manipulate you. He’s just telling you an ugly truth.

Now, it seems you’re both agitated, and what had promised to be a lovely evening is now spiraling down into the abyss. You can’t help but feel responsible for that.

Julian shakes himself, and shakes his head. You feel him drawing away from you, even before he’s moved his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Then he does start to retreat, but you reach out to him. “Julian, wait…”

He freezes in his tracks, looking up at you through the curtain of his silky hair.

“Pineapple.” 

He lifts an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Excuse me?”

“That’s my safe word.”

To be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you’re doing this because you want to, or because as usual, you sense someone needs a part of you for their own wellbeing, more than you think you do.

His mouth twists in a smile seemingly involuntarily. “I suppose that isn’t something one usually hears in the throes of passion.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Yes.” His look sharpens upon you then, and you feel a fresh gush of moisture between your legs, your bare toes curling. Suddenly, he seems taller, somehow, as though he’s taking up more space in the room than before. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

Not really, but this won’t be the first time you jump in head first to something you don’t know if you can handle. “Yeah. I believe you, when you say you won’t hurt me.”

Maybe you’re not sure exactly where the whole punishment thing fits in he was talking about earlier, but you assume you’ll get to that later.

He nods, his nostrils flaring as he looks you over again. You watch as his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. And then he returns to loosening that shining blue silk tie from his neck, sliding the fine fabric between his long fingers. “I picked this color tonight because I thought it would look so pretty on you,” he admits. 

“How…thoughtful?” You can’t help but tease him, even if your heart is suddenly hammering in your chest.

“Hmm. Someone always has something smart to say.” He strides across the room to you, boldly standing between your legs at the edge of the bed. 

“I think you like it?” You can’t help the squeak in your voice, and it makes him smirk down at you. It’s unnervingly similar to someone else who likes to throw around an insouciant half smile, and your fingers curl in the bedspread by your thighs.

Do not think about Tom right now.

It’s too late, of course.

“Give me your hands.” There is that authoritative tone again, that makes everyone at the hospital and out in the real world stand at attention. Everyone, but Tom Ludlow, of course. Unbidden, the image of Tom’s fist making that irreverent gesture out the window enters your head—and like the idiot you are, you smile.

It causes Julian to look at you strangely, searching you out. “What’s so funny?”

You sigh, closing your eyes against that probing stare. “I don’t know,” you deflect, master of the witty riposte as always. Hoping to distract him, you offer up your wrists. “Like this?” you ask, and golly if your ploy doesn’t work.

“That’s my good girl.” A damning warmth spreads through you from his praise, and you watch with fascination as he loops your wrists with the blue silk, tying it off with a beautiful bow that does look pretty against your skin. “We’ll start with this,” he tells you. “If you really want, you can undo it with your teeth.”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, appreciating the gesture. 

“Tell me the safeword?” He asks, lifting your hands up above your head, looking absolutely feral, ready to eat you alive. 

“Pineapple,” you tell him, flexing your hands above your head and pushing your tits out for him. God, it’s been forever since you’ve had anything inside you besides your own boring fingers, and you’re more than ready for him to take the straining bulge out of his pants and slip it into your perpetually aching cunt. 

“Keep your hands above your head for me?” You can tell by his tone that it’s more of a demand than an ask, but at least he's trying to be sweet despite wrestling internally with some beast that wants to bind you immobile and shove a gag in your mouth. 

Every hair stands on end at just the thrill of having his silky, non committed tie around your wrists, so you wonder how you’d fair in something stricter. Apparently, your vagina likes the theory of it, because she pulses insistently for some kind of attention—Jesus, any kind of attention that’s not just from you.

You and her may argue sometimes—much more now that Ludlow has kicked the imaginary door of your life down and stormed in for a raid—but you still share the same brain, and both of you agree that Julian is very fucking hot while he takes off his upper attire to reveal toned, tight, thin muscle and perfect golden skin. 

“Is there, um, anything you want me to call you?” You ask, little toes curling and flexing on his comforter. 

“You want to properly address me?” His teeth peek out of the wayward grin, hands slipping the belt out of his pants and filling you with Tom thoughts again. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“How about Doctor? Something familiar?”

“Something tells me you’ve thought of this scenario before,” you muse, toying with the wrought iron post of his bed. You have to admit, Doctor isn’t your favorite term of endearment, but you suppose that if it makes him fuck you sooner it doesn’t really matter. 

Sans pants, his cock tents and fills his briefs, and that tiny creature living inside you comes out of her burrow to remind you that she’s very, very hungry. He really is a gorgeous specimen of a man. You could probably find his mimic in a museum statue or erotic magazine with only one huge, girthy difference. 

How the fuck is that monster not going to hurt you after years of only having your own little fingers for comparison? 

“Jesus,” you breathe, unaware that you say it out loud at first. 

He pumps his hand once or twice over the silk coated shaft, showing off that big, beautiful cock and rubbing a bead of pearly cum over the tip. “Hands above your head, y/n, and don’t make me say it a third time.” 

You bite your lip hard to keep from groaning in protest and place those conniving, sneaky limbs up above you again. “Yes, Doctor.” It would sound strange to you if you had any common sense right now—if your brain wasn’t currently leaking out of your cunt. 

A little piece of you—actually and worryingly it’s more than just a little piece—wants to challenge him to see exactly what he’ll do. 

“Do you want me to tell you what I wanted to do to you when you disobeyed my orders?” 

“Spank me?” You ask, words too bold for how you’re feeling—how your whole body is overflowing with burning, bashful blood and sinking into the cushion of his bed to hide. 

He laughs, low and wicked, and shakes his head. At least you get a little needy grumble from him, although you’re not sure if that’s because he’s stroking his cock or not. “No, not spank you. I think you’d enjoy that too much.”

“Then what?” You raise your chin a little bit, and the look he pins you with reminds you of what wild horses must see in the person’s eyes that wants to ride and break and domesticate them. A little panic alarm lights up your brain, and it gets louder the more he talks. 

“Instead of rubbing these tired, sore feet, I would have gotten a thin piece of finished wood and whipped them with it.” 

Your toes instantly curl and tuck in defense, heels digging into the bed to shy away from his mean words. “I don’t know if I’d like that,” you admit.

“That’s the point of a punishment, little girl. You’re not supposed to like it.” Julian transforms into something scary for the first time, and you think this might be that dominant side of him coming to bat again. You don’t really like it when he’s all business no play, void of jokes and grins, snarling like a rabid jaguar. 

“Julian, I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. It scares me.” 

His ferocity goes limp right along with his dick, and the sight of that makes you want to scream and cry and pound your fists on the floor like a tantrum throwing child. Your vagina, who was just minutes ago getting along with you, once again wants you dead. 

Dr. Jekyll sits beside you on the bed and puts a soothing, heating pad hand on your belly. “I’m sorry, are you alright? I shouldn’t have gone into that so fast. I got carried away. It’s been a while.” 

Although his apology is warranted, and what he says is true about going too far, that caretaker in your blood wants nothing more than to soothe him while he has a mini existential crisis about making you feel uncomfortable. You sit up and rub his shoulders with bound hands. 

“Julian, it’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he replies, combing a hand through his soft hair. “We should have discussed details before jumping in. I just”—he cups your cheek and kisses your head—“I’ve wanted you for a long time.” 

The thought of having to go through a detailed discussion before having sex with your partner every time has the opposite effect of Tom Ludlow’s—fuck, here he is again—spontaneity and makes your pussy dry up. 

As though he senses you’re about to take your teeth to his very nice silk tie, he turns to unbind your hands with one deft pull. You feel fine, but you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your wrists. You sit there in the quiet together for what feels like a long time, your head resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” He takes your hand, kissing your palm. “That thing I told you? It’s not something I offer up freely to anyone. Not even my playmates.”

You nod against him. “I understand.”

“I just…wanted you to know me.”

The human need to lay yourself bare in the hopes of acceptance is something you understand all too well—and something you never do anymore, because it just always ends badly. That he wanted you that much squeezes your heart in a merciless fist, because the healer in you wants to help him, but you’re not sure you can give this man what he really needs.

“Did you…want me before I talked back to you?” Suddenly the question is burning in your brain and you have to know.

Julian smirks at that. “You’ve always talked back to me, y/n.” With that he kisses your forehead, and starts to get dressed again. 

What a goddamned shame.

It’s totally not helpful, but you can’t stop yourself from thinking that if Tom had you in this position tonight, you wouldn’t be able to walk right, and not because you’d said the wrong thing and got yourself punished with a sliver of wood or whatever the fuck Julian kept in his closet.

You wouldn’t be going home feeling even emptier than when you arrived.

Maybe, you wouldn’t be going home at all.

Julian asks you to stay with him a while longer to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie—some cheap new thriller that makes you both jump and gasp. It’s sort of funny, to watch the man that was just spouting off his desire to use ancient torture methods on you get scared at a guy with a shiny knife popping out of bushes. 

At one point, while you’re laying on his bare chest and inhaling the citrusy sweat of his skin and becoming increasingly warm to the idea of giving his discarded silky tie another try, you start tracing your fingers down the hard line of his stomach, flicking over the elastic of his thin sweatpants. 

He stalls your movement, and looks down at you apologetically. “Not tonight, honey.” 

You know he was just fiending for your bound form with his dick in his hand, so you’re not sure why he’s stopping you, but your woe-is-me brain immediately, and as usual, jumps to the conclusion that he never wanted you in the first place. 

You will not be the giving tree anymore. You will not be the obsessed, lovesick girl willing to do anything just to get that same love back. You won’t—you can’t—do it again. 

“It’s late,” you sigh, sitting up. You’ve long sobered from dinner, and you’re tired, and you kind of want to be alone so you can go home and cry. “Thank you for dinner.” You’re not so sure about the rest, and in the rueful curl of Julian’s lips you can tell he’s well aware how disappointing all this was. For both of you, you suppose. He kisses you goodnight at the door, and you get in your car to drive home.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Daisy Chains and Kept Promises

George Weasley x reader

Based on this request🫶🏽

Summary: George Weasley was never one to break a promise. Especially not one sealed by a daisy chain ring.

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It was the first sunny afternoon in what seemed like forever, but in reality had only been a few days, and the residents of the burrow were eager to escape onto the vibrant, green lawn.

“Fred, George you stay out of trouble now!” Molly shouted from the kitchen as you run out the door with the twins.

“Come on now, it’s our last summer before they ship us off to Hogwarts! We gotta make the most of it!” Fred replies, sprinting out to the shed where the Weasleys stored all their brooms.

“Hurry up Georgie, or I’m taking the good broom!” You tease as you race past the other boy, snatching the best broom from the rack before he has the chance to protest.

“Aw c’mon! Why’s she always get the good one?” Ron complains as he catches up with you all.

“Oh shut it Ronald,” George retorts, not bothering to give his youngest brother a second glance.

The four of you spend the afternoon zooming across the field, a beat up quaffle tossed between you in carefree bliss as the sun shines down on you and Ginny watches from the ground below.

Eventually you all tire and you find yourself lying in the shade of the old oak tree that loomed over the garden. Thankfully the rain had scared off the gnomes that had a habit of sneaking into the garden for a tasty treat.

“Show me how to make those daisy crowns? Like the muggles?” Ginny asks, bringing over fists full of the little white flowers.

“Not now Ginny,” Fred sighs, rolling his eyes at the young girl.

“No, no, we can do it now,” you argue, patting the ground next to you, gesturing for the younger girl to sit beside you.

“Yeah, let her stay,” George agrees, smiling fondly at you.

Fred snorts at his brother, eyes rolling once more.

“You always side with her, you’re supposed to be my twin! How are you two going to survive without each other?” Fred retorts, leaning back against the tree.

“It’ll only be a year, then y/n can join us in the fun,” George replies happily.

“Oh at this point you might as well just marry her,” Fred responds with a huff.

You feel your cheeks begin to grow red and you turn to focus all your attention on the young girl beside you, showing her how to intricately wrap the stems together to form a chain of daisies.

You’d known the twins for as long as you could remember. You’d practically grown up with them. Your father Remus did the best he could raising you on his own, he really did, but it was hard. Especially on full moons. The Weasleys always took you in on those nights, often resulting in you staying for days while Remus recovered.

George had had a soft spot for you since the beginning, always being the slightly softer twin while Fred was more severe and brash. You could remember a particularly bad night when it had been storming, the loud thunder making you shake with fear. George had stayed up with you all night, making sure the storm didn’t get you. You had been seven at the time.

It had started back then you supposed, your little crush. It had confused you at first as you had thought of all the boys as your brothers, but now, at the ripe old age of ten, you could tell that Georgie was different from the other Weasley boys.

“There!” George announces excitedly, shaking you from your thoughts as he brandishes a single daisy up into the air, its stem tied rather roughly in a small circle.

Without warning, he grasps onto your hand, sliding the makeshift ring onto your finger, looking rather pleased with himself.

“There. You’re my wife now,” he says proudly as you stare at the little flower adorning your finger.

“You didn’t do it right! You have to ask her to be your wife. Everyone knows that!” Ginny exclaims, watching the two of you with a dopey little grin on her face.

“Oh. Right. Y/n, will you be my wife?” Georgie asks, batting his eyes dramatically at you and sticking out his bottom lip.

“Yes I will,” you reply with a laugh, admiring the pretty daisy that now sat on your finger.

“You two are so gross,” Fred says, making a face.

“Oh, oh! Do the promises! The ones where you say I do!” Ginny urges excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Alright. Do you promise to always laugh at my jokes, always be there for me when I need you, and always take my side when we argue with Fred?” George asks.

Fred begins to make dramatic gagging sounds.

“I do.” You reply with a giggle as Fred just glares at you. “And do you promise to always make me smile, always protect me, and always make me hot chocolate when I can’t sleep?”

“I do.”

It was dark. The whole house was dark really. All the time. Dimly lit and constantly smelling like mold and rotting wood. And the furniture seemed to be permanently damp, the coldness settling into your bones.

You hated it here at Grimmauld Place. The constant shrieking of decrepit, old portraits, the eerie feeling of constantly being watched. The only positive attribute about living in this wretched place was the fact that Remus had never been happier.

It had taken months to do it, but after Harry had been able to help Sirius escape the dementors, Dumbledore had inconspicuously been able to move Sirius into Grimmauld place where you had been staying ever since.

It had been strange at first, no doubt. You had only just met the man, but he grew on you quickly. Like a fungus. You loved seeing how comfortable he made Remus who visibly softened whenever the other man was near. And you hadn’t seen Remus smile as wide or as often, well ever. You could tell that the two of them were just meant to be side by side, and honestly, that was enough for you. Especially in dark times like these.

“Lighten up love, we have a surprise for you before dinner,” Remus announces, entering the drawing room where you sat wrapped in a pile of blankets, a book in hand as you tried to ignore the screeching bag lady in entry way portrait.

“Is it another one of those horrendous sweaters that Sirius keeps digging up from somewhere?” You ask, nose scrunching at the thought of another one of the putrid smelling things being presented to you. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you detested the nasty things, so you had been giving them to Kreacher to dispose of rapidly. “I know I keep telling him that they’re lovely, but how many of the things does he think I need?”

Remus just laughs, shaking his head. “I’ve told him to move onto something else, but he’s determined to fill your wardrobe I think. But no. It’s not another sweater. For now at least. No, I do believe you’ll quite enjoy this little surprise.” He tells you before leaving you to your book and your thoughts.

Dinner time couldn't come fast enough as you eagerly eyed the clock every fifteen minutes, only to be disappointed by how little time had gone by.

About thirty minutes before the three of you usually ate dinner, you began hearing a chorus of voices coming from the entry way. And not the familiar voices of the Black family portraits.

"Well where is she then?" a loud voice asks.

Hearing the voice, you immediately perk up, not quite believing you'd heard correctly. This place might be driving you mad.

"Oh bloody hell mate, don't seem too eager now," comes the sarcastic response.

You'd know those voices anywhere. Practically throwing yourself from the couch, you eagerly scramble to the door and down the staircase to be greeted by the whole Weasley family grinning up at you.

"Look Georgie, there's your wife, don't get your knickers in a twist now," Fred scoffs.

You fly into George's arms, sighing contentedly as his arms wrap securely around you.

"Well hello to you too," you hear him laugh as he gives you another squeeze before releasing you.

You hadn't seen him, or the other Weasley's for that matter, in what felt like ages. He and Fred had grown their hair out, and you didn't quite remember them being so tall last you saw them. His smile never changed though.

Bashfully, you greet the rest of the Weasley bunch, even Fred giving you a quick hug, before rubbing the top of your head affectionately and effectively tossling up your hair. You stick your tongue out at the boy in response, batting his hand away.

"I missed you all, so much! I've been going absolutely bonkers being here alone for so long," you tell them.

"Well not to worry love, we'll be here all summer. Hermione too, though she's not coming for another few weeks." George tells you.

Feeling eyes on you as you laugh with the boys, turning to see both Sirius and Remus gazing at you intently, eyes flickering between you and George.

Sirius silently points at you, then George before drawing a line across his neck with his finger before giving you a wink. You feel heat creeping into your cheeks as you turn back to the boys.

"What are you all doing here?" you ask eventually as the adults begin to file into the kitchen.

"Came to be used as house elves of course," Fred replies, earning him a nudge from George.

"Mum said that Sirius volunteered the house to be headquarters for the Order," Ron butts in.

"Yeah, then mum volunteered us to help clean the place up," Ginny adds.

You make a face at that.

"We have a lot of work to do then, this place is disgusting," you tell them, leading them up the stairs to the room you'd been staying in. On your way up the stairs, George's hand never leaves yours, fingers intertwined as you guide him up the dusty staircase.

"Long as there aren't any spiders," Ron replies, eyeing the spiraling stairs with suspicion.

You just look back at the boy with concern, pity overtaking your face as his own face turns pale.

For once Grimmauld place was silent. A rare luxury you'd found, especially since the Weasley's had moved in. Not that you minded, the red headed family made the grim, old place feel alive and vibrant. Something you thought the it needed desperately. But you liked the quiet too.

It had been a strange couple of weeks as everyone, the adults especially, seemed to be on high alert. And who could blame them? Hermione had just moved in, sharing a room with you and Ginny. You could hear their breathing now as you stared up at the dark ceiling above.

After the Weasley's arrival, you had all spent countless hours decluttering Grimmauld place. Sweeping, dusting, banishing the more mouthy portraits to the attic. It was hard work, but you had loved every second of it with George making you laugh until you keeled over, tears streaming down your face. His presence just made everything better. You thought so at least.

In the darkened room, your mind drifts to the conversation you had heard between the adults just hours ago. It definitely wasn't a conversation you had been meant to overhear, but Georgie had given you a pair of extendable ears that he and Fred had developed, and you just couldn't help yourself.

"Oh really Sirius, they've all practically grown up together, George would never do anything to hurt her," Molly had said.

At the mention of George's name, you just had to find out what they were talking about.

"We never said he was going to do anything malicious, we just don't want to see her get hurt," Remus replied with a heavy sigh.

Her?

"They're practically adults, you can't protect her forever. So what if they fancy each other? They're not children!" Molly retorts.

"Oh that's rich coming from you. Just the other day you were going on about young witches and wizards rushing into marriage during the first war. And how many times have you told the twins that they're forbidden from joining the Order hmm? They're adults, Molly, you can't protect them forever," Sirius responds.

"Oh but at least I've done all I can to protect them up to this point. What have you done for y/n? Nothing. Because you've been locked up!" Molly spits. You can hear the fury in her voice.

Your fists ball up in rage at her comments. None of it was Sirius's fault. He didn't do anything wrong. How dare she?

"That's enough!" you hear Remus cut in, a sharpness in his voice that you hadn't heard before. "We weren't coming to attack George, or the way you raised any of the children. We were simply raising our concerns, as any good parents would. Now that we've made our point, if you don't wish to interfere, fine. We won't either."

After that the only thing you had heard was the shuffling of feet as they abandoned the dining room. They had most definitely been talking about you. No doubt about it. You hadn't realized they were concerned about you. They never said anything. And it was only Georgie. The two of you had been married for six years now. In all the ways that mattered to you at least. He would never hurt you. In fact, he'd made it a promise.

Mind racing and unable to sleep, you slip out of bed, careful not to make a sound as you slowly creep to the drawing room that you so often took refuge in. To your surprise however, a dim light was already flickering inside when you approached, and a familiar head of red hair sat facing away from you on the sofa.

"Georgie?" You whisper cautiously, not wanting to spook him.

His head turns in surprise, but his face lights up when he sees you.

"What are you doing this up this late, love?" he asks.

"I could ask you the same."

"Fair enough. Just a lot on my mind I suppose."

"Me too," you reply.

A silence falls between the two of you as you stand, watching mesmerized as the light flickers on and off of the boy's handsome face.

"Want me to make you a hot chocolate?" George asks finally.

A smile grows on your face and you instantly perk up at the mention of your favorite treat. George always knew how to put you to sleep, and he always made the best hot chocolate. Nodding enthusiastically, the two of you make your way down to the kitchen where George begins gathering supplies.

One thing you'd always admired about him was that he never minded doing things the muggle way. While Fred was always quick to magic his way through things, George was content taking his time.

"Help stir the milk so it doesn't burn?" he asks, gesturing to the pot now on the stove.

You silently take the wooden spoon from his hand, fingers brushing ever so slightly, before focusing on the task at hand. George sets out two mugs on the counter before helping you melt in the chocolate.

It all felt terribly domestic. As if there wasn't a sociopathic murderer on the loose. Like it was just the two of you.

It isn't long before George is pouring the dark liquid into the mugs, sprinkling in a few little marshmallows and a cinnamon stick or two and the both of you are retreating back up to the drawing room.

The first sip sends shivers of satisfaction down your spine as you lean into George who wraps his free arm around you. You pull a blanket over you and revel for a moment in the comfort.

"Care to share what's been on your mind?" George asks, breaking the silence.

"Only if you go first," you reply, not quite sure how to explain that he was really the only thing on your mind these days.

George just sighs. "It's nothing you we haven't told you before," He tells you. "Mum is just fighting for her life to keep Freddie and I out of the Order, but Moody agrees with us. We're of age. There's nothing she can do to stop us."

"Will you be safe?"

"Safe as can be. Mum has made sure they don't give us any real missions. Just patrolling Diagon Alley since that's where we set up shop."

You simply nod your head, letting it fall against the boy's chest as you feel his even breathing and let it overtake you. You'd never admit it out loud, but you were grateful for Molly to an extent. The twins had an abysmal lack of self preservation skills, and you didn't know what you would do if you lost Georgie.

"And what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You feel your shoulders shrug as you think carefully of what to say.

"I overheard our parents talking today," you mumble, not exactly sure where you were taking this.

"Oh?"

"Dads are worried about us," you tell him, hiding your face in his chest.

"Worried?"

"I dunno. They said something about your mum talking about how a lot of wizards and witches rushed into marriage during the first war, and there was a lot of talk about you being of age and what not. It got intense. There was a lot of yelling."

You feel George's chest rumble with soft laughter at your words.

"Well that's a silly thing to be worried about considering we've been married for years now at this point," he says.

You're not sure if he's joking or not. Maybe the exhaustion was finally getting to you.

"I'm being serious Georgie. I didn't know they were so worried about me. And Sirius sounded so upset," you reply, sitting up to take another long sip of your hot chocolate.

"So am I." he responds, looking you dead in the eye. The usual mischievous gleam is gone this time and you know he's never been more serious about something. "You know I'm not one to break a promise."

The air grows heavy as you feel yourself freeze for a moment at his words before you sink back into his warm embrace.

"I still have it you know. Your ring. Your mum charmed it for me so it wouldn't wilt. She knew all along," you tell him.

"She tends to have a sixth sense when it comes to these kinds of things."

Another silence falls between the two, but this time, the silence brings comfort as you feel your eyes growing heavy. George tries to stifle a yawn, but it escapes anyway. It was later then you had realized.

"I'm glad it's real for you too," you murmur, leaning further into the boy as your eyes flutter close. Something about being in George's arms provided a sense of security you couldn't find anywhere else.

"It was always real. I'd never break a promise to you, love."

bby's first non-slytherin boy fic🫣

don't ask me if I edited this- the answer is no and I don't want to talk abt it💀

tag list: @sol-lupin-black @breeistired

[suguci]

— JOTARO KUJO X FEM READER SMUT IMAGINE

— MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+ ONLY

— SUMMARY: It's the middle of summer in a heat wave, and while you and Jotaro are trying to cool off, Jotaro seems to have other plans to raise the heat instead.

— WC: 3.0k

— WARNINGS: Temperature play, ice play, brat taming, ass slapping, fingering, edging, p in v penetration.

— A/N: Hi! This is my first fanfic in quite a while. I've written fics before but it's been abt a year or so since I've written, so I hope it's not too bad! Thank you, hope you enjoy!

It's the middle of the summer in Japan─where it's hot and humid, the sun is blaring through the windows, and the sounds of tree frogs and crickets are relentless.

You and Jotaro lie in the bed, unmade, with your clothes strewn off to the side, laying skin to skin, with a few electric fans plugged into the walls of your bedroom–the only thing that seems to be keeping the both of you cool.

Normally, the air conditioning would be on, and you wouldn't have to be in this sweltering heat, but, the summers of Japan in the countryside are hot and brutal, which eventually decides to even break the air conditioning unit after staying on twenty-four-seven, wearing it's efforts thin.

Jotaro's fingers gently trace small circles on your sticky, sweaty back before he groans and turns from his side to lay on his back, breaking the miserable silence of just lying still under the unbearable heat.

"Fuck," He groans once more. "I wish we had a swimming pool out here, or we lived near the beach."

You can't help but let out a weak chuckle as you grab another ice pack from the cooler that's sitting beside your bed, and you toss it on top of the large, sweaty man who lies next to you.

"That's the fifth time you've said that Jotaro," You mumble, also taking an ice pack from the small cooler and placing it on top of your forehead in hopes of cooling you down.

Jotaro grumbles and sits up, taking the ice pack you handed him and he glides the cooling pack along his face and neck to help cool him down quicker.

"Didn't know you were keeping count."

You sigh, and you sit up. You look behind you, looking at the towels you laid down on the bed, and upon seeing your sweaty body imprint you groan at the sight, wondering just how much water you must've expelled from your body by now.

"Well, there's not much to talk about other than complain about how hot it is, so, I just wanted to see how many times you'd complain about not having a pool, so I've kept track."

Jotaro just chuckles and he rolls his eyes at your retort, too hot to even think of an answer to retort that. Instead, he continues to drag the ice pack across his skin, letting it move from his neck and down to his chest and over his abdomen.

Your eyes follow his movements unashamedly, and, out of the corner of his eye, Jotaro catches you staring.

He chuckles at your lack of shame, but he isn't even one to judge simply because he's been staring at your sticky, sweaty body for the majority of the time that you've both been nude.

"Care to tell me why you're staring?" He asks, his eyes now following yours.

Your eyes flick back to his facial features and you see a smug grin plastered onto his face, and instantly you feel heat rise to your face from being caught, but you're quick to retort.

"Like you're one to talk─You've been gawking at me the entire day."

Jotaro shakes his head and he rolls his eyes, finding your attitude almost chuckle-worthy.

It's his turn to look over at you now. His eyes wander over your sweaty figure, how your hair sticks to your skin, and how the sweat droplets glisten off of you in the afternoon sun, mainly paying attention to how pretty your breasts are covered in sweat, too.

He sees that you're looking at him in the same way he's admiring you, and he suddenly understands a certain thickness forming in the air alongside the persistent humidity. Slowly, he reaches over and runs a hand up and down your waist as you sit hunched over with your poor posture-his fingers teasing the curvature of your stomach-and presses his fingers against your skin.

You get the hint, and slowly he guides you with his hand, guiding you to sit on top of him. He gives you another smug grin meanwhile you give him a pout.

"Jotaro, aren't we only going to get hotter with this-"

Your question is interrupted by Jotaro's command. "Don't care. Come here." He taps your hip-a signal you know to hover over him-and in one hand, he takes his hardening cock, and pumps it a few times until he's fully erect, and slowly, he swipes his tip over your entrance to feel how wet you are, and when he decides it's good enough, he slips it inside of your hot, wet cunt, and immediately both of you let out a moan at the penetration.

Jotaro grabs your hips, and slowly, he pushes you down on his cock until your hips are flushed together.

You let out a whine at the dull sensation filling you up and making you go dizzy, loving how thick your boyfriend is, how you can feel him stretching your walls out, and how his fat tip sits perfectly on your g-spot.

God, he feels so good, you think to yourself, while your hands find a mind of their own and grab his thick quads to find purchase to start riding him, but Jotaro quickly grips your hips in protest.

"No, stay put. We'll get too hot, remember?" He smirks, using your own words against you, and you let out a frustrated groan.

"Please, Jotaro," You beg, which catches you by surprise, finding it funny how easily he already has you falling apart.

He seems to find this surprising too, as one of his dark eyebrows raises, and that smug grin of his reappears upon his lips.

"No, don't want you to move quite yet, sweetheart. Just stay still and... let me cool you down..." He says, his voice low as he grabs the ice pack that you left on the bed, and slowly, he brings the cold pack over your skin, gliding it, and watching water droplets form as he drags it across your body.

You watch with bated breath as Jotaro drags the ice along your skin. You swallow thickly, as your chest rises up and down, your eyes following his every move, and how your breath skips when the ice suddenly gets too cold when he moves the pack over your breasts and the peaks of your nipples.

Jotaro's eyes watch your chest rise up and down with interest, finding the way you react to the cold against such a sensitive part of your skin to be almost gratifying. He watches closely, and intently, seeing the water move across your skin almost as if it's mesmerizing, and how goosebumps rise across your skin from the sensitivity. He smirks at that and looks up at you.

"I see you're cooled down."

You huff, shaking your head, because it's quite the contrary, feeling as if your skin is on fire from how close Jotaro is─how his piercing green eyes look so intently at your breasts, and how good he feels buried deep inside of you. You swallow thickly and reach down, your hands gripping his thighs once more and digging your nails into his skin, hoping you'd return a stinging, hot sensation to him.

The hiss he lets out confirms it, and you flash him a smug grin back at him. Your hips then grind down onto him, moving in a circle, and Jotaro immediately lets out a groan and grips your hips tightly, digging his fingers into you.

"F-Fuck, stop that," He groans, halting his movements with the ice pack.

You watch as his eyes flutter from the pleasure of you moving your hips, how his Adam's Apple bobs, and how his mouth hangs open─you think he looks so good like this, so you let your eyes wander over his pretty facial features, and down his neck, looking at the droplets of sweat adorning his strong, scarred body-it's all such a good view, and it doesn't stop you from moving your hips, that is until Jotaro grips your hips harshly with his strong, calloused hands, causing you to come to a halt and your breath to hitch.

He's silent when he stops you except for the sound of his heavy breathing, which leaves your heart pounding a million miles a minute, wondering what he's gonna do next makes the atmosphere incredibly palpable.

He's silent for a minute more, leaving you anxious, and so, you start moving your hips again to gauge his reaction, but his grip on your hips only tightens and he lets out a huff. You raise an eyebrow at his refusal to acknowledge the silent situation, but, before you can blink, he quickly takes hold of you in both of his hands and flips you over so your face is pressed into the pillows.

You're breathless from how fast the movement is, unable to comprehend the situation fully, you can't even give Jotaro a remark before his rough hands grab hold of you once more to position you with rough grunts; where he grips your hips tightly pushing your ass into the air, and pushing on your back till it curves, and then he grips your thighs and pulls them apart as if he were tearing open a tightly sealed package.

Your eyes are wide with how rough he's handling you, so you grip the bedsheets tightly as if your life depended on it. You swallow thickly, knowing that it was your refusal to stay still that caused all of this.

"J-Jotaro..." Your voice is weak from the newfound tightness in your throat, as well as the fact that your face is pushed into the pillows in front of you. With this, you're practically begging to be recognized with the fact that you're sorry, but, you can hear Jotaro huff with frustration from behind you, making it seem as if he isn't too keen on forgiving you.

"I told you to be still..." He mutters, and you can feel one of his rough hands grip the globes of your ass-cheeks-pulling you slowly apart─and his calloused thumb swipes gently over your poor, weeping hole which reluctantly pulls a soft whine out of you.

His thumb trails down and, as if he were pondering about something, he slowly swipes his thumb over the soft folds of your cunt, making you let out another reluctant whine. You turn your head back to look back at Jotaro to ask for forgiveness, but a quick slap on your ass that has you lurching forward and letting out a quick yelp tells you that he was already reading your mind.

"Won't take an apology, sorry," He says bluntly, and he grins from knowing that he's probably making you annoyed.

You huff, begging to differ, but once you feel a large finger push forward inside of you, it's as if you've felt all of your complaints wash away in a matter of seconds. Your body leans back into his touch, and Jotaro is amused at how easily you lean back into him.

He groans and smiles at how good you look like this, and slowly he begins to curl that finger inside of you, making that motion over and over again, which makes you grip the covers of the bed needily.

"You gonna be good now, now that your wet little hole is weeping from my fingers?" He asks in a gruff voice, clearly finding your easy submission quite amusing.

You nod slowly, and you push back on his fingers as if you'd like them to go deeper, but Jotaro grips your hips tightly once more and with his free hand, he slaps your ass again, shaking his head.

"Seems like you're not gonna be still, so I'll just take my time here," He mutters, and he reaches down with his other hand and pinches your clit, sending a warning to you, which has you let out a frustrated whine.

"Jesus, Jotaro... I'll be still for fuck's sake," You murmur into the pillows, your head feeling a little shaken from Jotaro pinching your clit.

A smug smirk appears on his face, and then slowly, when his fingers start to move again, his face returns to its stoic expression as he watches his finger curl into you before adding another one which makes you moan, and you grip the bedsheets once more.

Once he's satisfied with your moans, he slowly then brings his other hand down and begins to gently rub your clit with his thumb, making you let out another moan.

You feel as if you're in heaven from the way his fingers feel, just enjoying how they make you feel so full and how they curl to hit that spongey spot inside of you every single time. Your head feels so full of bliss as you revel in the feeling of his fingers, knowing that if he kept going, you'd feel close to climbing your climax soon.

In the meantime, Jotaro is watching you intently. He watches the way your body reacts, his eyes watch your pretty cunt clench around him, and how your legs tremble whenever his fingers curl into that spot so deliciously-needless to say, he's focused on you, hoping to see when you're close.

Of course, however, you're giving him everything he wants, with your legs trembling from how good his rough thumb feels on your clit, drawing small, slow circles, you feel the familiar feeling of a rope tightening in your stomach, making you moan louder than were you before, and your breath becomes heavy as a result.

At that moment, Jotaro decides in a split second and quickly removes his fingers from you, and instantly your eyes pop open and look back at him in anger as you lose focus on your incoming orgasm.

"W-What the hell?! I-I was being still!" You retort with eyebrows furrowed, and piercing eyes like daggers as you stare at Jotaro, feeling as if you've lost all of that pleasure at once.

He gives you a smug smirk in response and he leans down, his dark curly bangs falling in front of his face and he nips at your neck.

"I know... just felt so good to get you back," He says, and the smug smirk on his face is practically audible as he leans down to press his soft lips along your skin, and as much as you want to roll your eyes at him, you let out a soft sigh as you feel his warm breath dance along there anyway, just wanting to feel him again.

"Now..." He grunts and sits back up and lifts your ass by gripping your thighs and pulling you towards him again. You let out a surprised yelp at that and he spreads your ass cheeks again, before reaching down to grip his cock. He groans as he slowly begins to tease the tip on your entrance, and as much as you're tempted to push yourself on it, you refrain from doing so because you know he'd only tease you about it.

Jotaro sees this remarkable effort you're making and he grins and lets out a low chuckle, finding your sudden obedience very entertaining.

"There we go... did the heat finally get to that little brain of yours?" He asks, and you huff and roll your eyes at his remark.

"Shut up and just fuck me, Jotaro," You murmur, not finding his teasing amusing at all, and you grip the pillows in front of you for support.

Another grin tugs at Jotaro's lips when you fire back that retort, and he sighs and slaps your ass one more time for good measure which makes you squeak before he slowly pushes himself in. He groans as he slowly moves inside of you, and your mouth drops open when you feel that familiar stretch.

Slowly, he begins to rock his hips, making you instantly let out soft moans from how good he feels─his thick girth slowly opening you up more than you already were from his fingers. Eyes roll to the back of your head and your fingers slowly grip the sheets as you feel the over-encompassing heat swell up within your body, feeling as if the heat wave is starting to finally get to you. Clearly, it seems to be getting to Jotaro too as you hear him groaning, and breathing deeply as he picks up his pace, his hands moving to grip your ass tighter so they wouldn't slip from the amount of sweat the two of you have accumulated over the past twenty minutes or so, inhaling and exhaling each other's heat. 

The heat passing between the two of you is almost more than you can bare as your breath picks up with Jotaro's quick pace─his thick cock hits that delicious spot inside of you earning him moans and shaky legs, and the sticky, wet sound only increases in volume as Jotaro keeps chasing that heat, wanting to finish as his cock twitches inside of you. 

You can only moan at this point, feeling so dizzy and hot as you can only take Jotaro's cock as his quick pace suddenly turns more punishing. You whine, feeling your body tighten and your legs shake and jolt from getting so close to your orgasm. 

"C-Close..." You murmur, letting your head fall forward, letting the heat build up inside of you until it's close to coming to that breaking point. Jotaro can only groan in response to your murmur, knowing he's close too. 

Finally, with a few more thrusts, Jotaro lets out a groan and he grabs your hips tightly, you let out a long moan as your legs shake and that hot blaze inside of you finally bursts free as you finish. 

Jotaro finishes and pulls out of you, groaning as he cums on your ass, watching the white, sticky warmth flow down your ass cheeks. He huffs as he watches, trying to catch his breath, and his eyes drift down to you to see you falling limp against the mattress. He chuckles.

"Looks like the heat waves finally got to us, hmm?" Jotaro remarks, and he sighs as he watches your whole body finally go limp against the bed, he slowly lowers himself next to you with a smug expression written all over his face when you turn to look at him. 

You just groan and roll your eyes, letting your breath calm down as your mind is swimming with bliss, trying even to comprehend his words.

"Yeah, yeah... still would've been better if we had a pool."

[dazednmatthews]

number neighbor!matt x reader: semi face to face (part four point five)

the thrum of the facetime ring had y/n very rightfully shitting bricks.

it wasn’t that she was scared of matt, nor would she ever let him know what she really thought of him, but the thought of finally talking to him semi-face to face was something that sent a weird hum through her veins.

they’d been talking for close to three weeks now, annoying him becoming a quintessential part of her days. she wouldn’t admit it to him, but she liked matt. as a friend. he was funny, and despite what she constantly told him, he wasn’t boring at all. she would have stopped trying a long time ago if he was.

on the third ring, matt picks up. the lighting in his room is warm, pale yellow filling her screen. the motherfucker is laid in bed, shirtless of course, hair fluffy and curling into his eyes.

it makes her sick to her god damn stomach the way the silver chain sits on his collarbones. and the way she can see stubble aligning his jaw. and the way the blanket just barely covers his chest. she wants to hang up.

she’d lost her ability to speak suddenly, so when matt raises an eyebrow, she knows he’s about to start something with her. “hello?” he draws out the ‘o’. “are you going to say something or am i gonna talk to myself during this?”

it’s enough to snap her out of whatever the fuck trance he had her in. “it’s been twenty seven seconds and i already wanna hang up.”

he smirks slightly, “i think that’s a lie.”

“whatever,” she grumbles. “why don’t you have any clothes on? classless.”

“i have pants on. wanna see?” y/n holds her hand up to the camera, flipping her middle finger. matt laughs. it’s a nice laugh. oh fuck. “am i distracting you?”

“i will hang up if you start this shit again.”

“fine, fine.” matt sits up slightly, angling the camera more on his face. he leans forward, eyebrows furrowed. “let me see your room.”

y/n is sitting at her desk, avoiding open makeup bottles and random pens strewn about. she shrugs, flipping the camera. her room is filled to the brim with things. her walls are covered in posters; from her favorite horror movies and icons and just films in general to her favorite musicians. she even has a funny minion poster in the corner that her best friend got her for a gag gift. she loves it just the same though.

“other than that fucking minion poster,” matt rolls his eyes. “you kind of have good taste.”

she scoffs. “kind of? bye. my taste is impeccable.”

matt eyes the poster right next to her closet door. “you like mac miller?”

she nods fondly. “he’s one of my favorite artists.”

something in his voice changes. “me too.”

“you wanna be me so damn bad. it’s flattering.”

it’s matt’s turn to scoff. “i actually couldn’t think of anything worse.”

y/n ignores him, giving him the full tour. she shows him the extent of her cd collection, which he of course, has something to say about all the disney channel soundtracks. she simply states that, “good music knows no bounds. it’s not my fault shake it up had the best ghost writers.” and yeah, matt does laugh at that.

she shows him the various pieces of art her sister has drawn her, which he’s actually really loves. they bicker about whether or not astrology is real, again, when she shows him her crystal collection. predictably, it ends up with her calling him a bastard and him telling her she’s insane a thousand times.

when she gets to her book case, he looks surprised. “you read?” his eyes are scanning the screen. “those are all yours?”

y/n’s face twists at the borderline insult. “are you calling me fucking stupid or something?”

“no!” he sounds kind of frantic. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just meant i didn’t know you enjoyed books like that.”

she shrugs, flipping the camera back to her and sitting back at her desk. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me, matt.”

she pretends to find something interesting in her reflection, not seeing matt’s eyes turn slightly soft. “yeah. i see.”

when it’s his turn to show his room, y/n’s surprised at how clean it is. there’s a bed and a desk with a monitor, headphones next to the keyboard. his bed is big and looks comfy, dark red silk sheets on it. it makes something in her stomach flip. she tells it to shut the hell up.

she teases him for the few stuffed animals he has on his bed. “aww, matt. you big softie.”

“yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. they’re cute.”

“mr. tough guy, making room on his bed for his plushies. adorable.”

“go to hell, y/n.”

there’s not really much else in there but a couple framed pictures, so it’s over pretty quick. and when it is, something weird happens. the two sit on the phone, for hours. they talk about any and everything, bicker about the same things and tell each other more about themselves. y/n learns that he has the cutest little dog named trevor, he also likes to read from time to time and that he’s obsessed with watching tv.

she tells him about her parents and how they aren’t as close anymore, her siblings and how she wishes she could see them more and that she has an unhealthy attachment to word searches.

it’s nice, she decides.

it only ends when there’s a bang at matt’s door, followed by it flinging open. “matt, can you take me to the gas station? i want twizzlers.” one of his brothers says.

the other one flops down next to him on his bed, poking matt in the stomach. “i need chips in my system, like now.”

matt closes his eyes and sighs. “you both are so fucking annoying.” he turns to the side. “i’m on the god damn phone.”

the middle one in that one picture matt sent, chris she thinks, pokes his head into the frame. “oh shit, is that the girl that you’ve been texting?”

the other triplet, nick, let’s out a laugh. “you mean the one he never shuts the fuck up about-“ and suddenly the audio is cut off and matt is out of his bed.

y/n is taken aback by the statement. matt talks about her to his brothers? she would definitely be putting that in her back pocket for later.

she watches matt leave his own room and hears the sound come back. “i’ve gotta go, y/n. they’ll only get more annoying and i don’t feel like cleaning up a crime scene if i kill them.”

she smiles in amusement. “that’s fine, i should probably finish my laundry anyway.”

there’s a moment of silence and then she can hear the smirk in his voice way before she sees it. “yeah i noticed. do you wash that pair of lacy black underwear on your floor on delicate or regu-“

“goodbye, matthew!”

her face heats up as she presses the end call button, cutting off his maniacal laughter.

as y/n sits in silence for a second after he’s gone, she wonders if matt felt the shift between them just as much as she did.

a/n: yes the inspo is the still of matt from the new tiktok cause that shit got me soooo bad. anyway hope you guys liked this!

TAGLIST:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez

[2goldendarkness]

I usually reblog, rather than make my own posts, but seeing everyone in the gaze community deal with their grief by writing things down has given me some courage to do the same. I hope it will help me in my grieving process and i hope to help everyone who does relate to what i write. So this will be my farewell letter.

Dear Reita,

I got the news seven days too late, like how it usually is for me coming into a fandom.

I became a fan about 8 years ago, i was doing a creative education as a designer, listening to random music on Youtube with autoplay. Suddenly i found Red, the first song that got me into the Gazette, i was glued to my screen and intrigued with the looks of all members. But why the hell was that one guy wearing a band around his nose? I needed to get into it. So i did.

The gazette then became my first and favorite Visual kei band, i’ve been trough a lot in my life and whenever hardship struck me, there was always an interview that would make me laugh. When i had boring days in school we even played a game, my friends would ask me “why is he covering his nose?” And i would make up the weirdest stories on the spot. That resulted in some charms with titles like ‘reita and the smelly drummer.’ And ‘reita the drugs dealer.’ It varied from poking fun and making up the stupidest thing, to making you some cool guy who fought bad guys. It would always make us laugh, even though, i was making up these stories to friends who weren’t even necessarily in the fandom, because everyone who saw you once, knew your name and so knew who you were.

I wrote fanfiction, many in where you play a big part of the story, not as a love interest, but as a brother of a character based off of me. All because you once said in a radio show that you feel like you’d be a great older brother, hell did i take you up on that one.

I never got to see The Gazette live, i used to curse you all for skipping my country and forcing me to travel for 5 hours to see you all. In 2018 i was almost at that point, but i couldn’t go because of my exams and because i had no friends who wanted to come with me. I always promised myself: one day, i will see them.

It hurts me to realize that day will never come, at least you won’t be there anymore. I accidentally open instagram, and find a grief post written by Hiroto of Alice nine, in the hashtags your name. Shock, that’s the first thing i felt. I must be going crazy. But next up was Miyavi’s post and as i read that it slowly starts downing upon me, my heart sinks to my stomach and a lump forms in my throat as i rush to jrocknews to confirm they aren’t just playing a sick joke.

I start crying like most of the sixth guns, but only after i start reading the members messages. Why am i crying? We’ve lost a talented bass player who inspired so many people to also start making music. The world lost ‘the world’s Reita’ who was always poking fun at the drummer. The bookstores lost their most unexpected romance buyer. Many lost their source of love and joy. I’ve lost my fictional brother.

But most importantly, your actual family lost a loving family member who bought his mother an entire house to repay her for raising him well. The Gazette lost a member. Kai lost his fear during interviews of whatever you are going to say next. Ruki lost being in your personal space no matter how big the dressing room. Aoi lost the person who’s jokes he could laugh the hardest about. Uruha lost his longtime best friend, and now can no longer feel your heart racing before the show, nor can he feel your hand searching for his heart.

I hope everyones feelings reach you, i hope that whichever way you passed, was peaceful and without pain. I hope that whenever it is our time, you come in your mustang to pick everyone up. Usually as a driving instructor i call shotgun, but i’ll leave that space to your close relatives. That way i can’t judge you for turning around while parking, rather than using your mirrors.

Thank you for everything Reita, you will never be forgotten. Once my grief is gone, i promise to remember you with a smile rather than cry. I also promise to be a fan of The Gazette no matter what they decide to do now you’re gone.

And to whomever read my entire message, thank you for reading this unhinged post.

[lunar-wandering]

i'm so obsessed with my "reaper that's scared of ghosts" oc that it's not even funny like it's starting to become an actual problem

“Hey, kid.”

The voice made Annette look up. Before her was a man, who was bending over slightly to be at her eye level.

“My name is Rocky.” He said, glancing off to the side as he did so, “And I'm going to be your reaper for the day.”

Now, Annette had already known she was dead. This did not come to a shock to her. She had been dead for about a week after all. That was totally enough time to become accustomed to her new state of being. Totally.

The reaper was a surprise though. After seven whole days of nothing she had begun to think that this was going to be how the rest of her 'life' was going to play out.A lifetime spent living alone, all by herself, with nobody able to see her, and no one to talk to.

“You're late.” She decided to say, as the reaper tilted the pole end of his scythe towards her, indicating for her to grab it, waiting until after she'd done so before turning around and starting to walk, with her trailing behind him.

“I know, I know.” Rocky said, looking forwards, “But there was a lot of evil spirits on the way between your location and the nearest entrance to the Otherworld, and I figured it'd be better to get rid of them first before leading you there. Easier to wait a little bit instead of having to fight while protecting someone, right?”

Annette supposed she could see the logic behind that.

“I still would've liked to have known that there was going to be a reaper though.” She said, “Couldn't you have come and talked to me first?”

Rocky didn't respond. Annette kept her eyes firmly on the reaper's back as they turned a corner.

“...And why are you having me hold the scythe anyways?” She asked, “Most of the times when people talk about a reaper leading someone to the afterlife, the reaper holds the person's hand.”

Still no answer. Hm. Maybe she only got to get one question answered after death, and she'd wasted it.

Well.

No.

Actually.

Her first statement hadn't been a question, had it? So that couldn't be it. Maybe this reaper in particular was just rude. That would be just her luck, getting stuck with a rude reaper.

Either way it was clear this guy wasn't going to answer any more of her questions, so she decided to shut up, focusing on the area around her as she walked. This was a path that she herself had taken many times on her way to school when she was alive- was there really a path to the afterlife this way?

Suddenly, Rocky stopped, Annette only having seconds to stop herself from running into him. And then, he turned, down a side street- one that Annette knew for a fact looped back around to the street they were already on. Still, she remained quiet. Maybe the entrance was somewhere down this way?

Except it wasn't. Except, a few minutes later, they were back on the same street they had started on, just a little bit further down.

Annette blinked for a moment, glancing behind her, and then glancing back at Rocky.

To hell with staying quiet.

“Why'd we do that?” She asked, “It would've been faster if we just stayed on this street.”

“...Evil spirit.” Rocky muttered. Ah, so he could answer her, he just was choosing not to.

“I don't see anything.” Annette glanced back at the street behind her again. “Also, didn't you say earlier that you'd already gotten rid of all the evil spirits? What, was there just something about that street in particular that you didn't like?”

From the way Rocky's back tensed, she must've been right on the money. Once again she looked back, trying to spot anything on that part of the street in particular that could make a reaper want to avoid it. As far as she could tell, it was just the same as the part she was currently on.

Or well, it was the same... if you ignored the Halloween shop that had opened up there a few days prior to her death. A little funny of her, she supposed, to die in October, but-

“Not a fan of Halloween?” Annette smirked a little as Rocky did a whole body twitch, like he had winced. “What, is it offensive to reapers or something?”

“No... m-most of the others actually like that sort of thing.” Oh, his voice had trembled for a moment there. He suddenly started to walk faster, and Annette had to swap to a light jog in order to keep up.

“So? Why don't you like it?” No response. Well, Annette wasn't one to let a mystery just go unsolved. She wracked her brain for a moment... “What, do you not like the horror movie type stuff? Are you scared of it?”

Rocky froze midstep, and this time Annette did run into him. Rocky awkwardly jerked when she did so, like his body had tried to jump away from her and he had done everything in his power to keep it from doing so.

And, thinking about it, now that she had brought it up…

“You're scared of me too, aren't you?” She asked, “I mean, you haven't looked at me once this whole time.”

“No I'm n-not.” Ah, his voice had trembled again.

“You so are.”

“Not.”

“Turn around and look at me then.” She let go of the scythe to put her hands on her hips, tapping her foot as she waited. Slowly, Rocky turned around, and after a few seconds of simply staring at some space above her head, looked down at her for the first time.

A cat chose that exact moment to walk straight through her. It was an odd sensation, to have things walk through you, but she was starting to grow used to it.

However, it seemed to have some kind of effect on Rocky, who suddenly listed a bit to the side, stumbled, and then crumbled to the ground.

“Ah.” Annette said, rather calmly, turning to the cat that was now sitting innocently beside her. “He died.”

He'd actually just passed out, but sudden death was much more dramatic.

Rocky shifted, before slowly starting to push himself off the pavement. Annette crouched down beside him as though she were watching a rather interesting ant.

“Hey, Mr. Reaper?” She said, “Y'know what? Being scared of ghosts cannot be all that good for your health. I think you need a paid vacation.”

“I w-wish.” Rocky muttered, “I don't even get paid.”

[yesihaveaobsession]

Looped In Time

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Like Groundhog Day the reader (you) are experiencing a endless time loop, she asks The Radio Demon to get her out but that involves a deal.

Y/N- Y'all might argue and say, " Groundhog Day." but the real ones know it's actually "Mystery Spot."

You woke up again. Again? Yes. You found yourself trapped in an endless time loop, with no idea why. Each time, you died in the most outlandish ways: Frank, Sir Pentious's Egg Boi, shot a lasher, it hit you, and then you woke up in your bed. Another time, Cherri Bomb threw a grenade in the hotel lobby, and there you were again... waking up in your bed. Normally, you'd have no idea what day it was in Hell... but you sure as hell knew it was Wednesday.

You wanted to pull your hair out at this point; you needed out. So, you went to look for the man you knew who could help you: the Radio Demon himself. Said demon was returning from his radio tower. He was much taller than you, so you practically had to jog to catch up with him. You didn't want him to disappear, so you shouted.

"Alastor! Just the guy I wanted to see." Alastor stopped and turned to face you with his smile. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Not wanting anyone else to hear what charade was tormenting you, you grabbed his claw and dragged him into your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it.

Alastor let out a chuckle. "That is one way to get your point across." Was he mocking you? You finally turned to face him. "I'm stuck, you baboon."

"Stuck?" He smiled, but his eyes showed confusion. "I'm stuck in an endless time loop that never ends, and I can't do anything about it!" You ran your hands through your hair, trying to catch your breath.

"That does not sound very pleasant at all." Maybe this was a bad idea. He seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. And God, did you hate it.

"No shit! I somehow die in the dumbest ways and wake up, and it's Wednesday. In fact, this is the hundredth Wednesday I've lived through!" Alastor sat on your bed with his legs crossed over each other. "Sounds... frustrating."

You finally looked over at the deer demon, who clearly was enjoying it by his grin. But he did want to help; he saw the desperate glint in your eyes. "You do realize that you are essentially in Hell currently, yes?"

Seriously? "Yes," You replied flatly. "And you know the only way to break the cycle, yes?" He stood from the bed and made his way over to you, clutching his cane, bending down and sliding a finger down your chest, then pausing and looking up at you.

"No, tell me." You gripped onto the flaps of his suit jacket desperately. Just where he wanted you. "Perhaps I can offer you a way out of this tiresome cycle. But, of course, everything comes at a price." Your giddiness came to an end when he said this. "I'm way smarter than making a deal with you." You replied, letting go of his suit and crossing your arms. To think this was the game that Alastor played. He also knew that getting through to someone looking for help like you was a lot easier.

"I assure you... the price is very reasonable..." He said with animated hand gestures. You were now glaring at him. Was this sensibly a price to pay? Although you weren't sure if he believed you or not. You didn't know how to get out. A part of you felt like Alastor put you in this to get something out of you.

"You're not getting my soul." You spoke. He smiled more. His arms were behind his back, and he started to circle around you, slowly, like you were his prey.

"Oh, you will not have to sell me your soul. Just your services, if you agree to my terms." Terms? What terms? You thought to yourself. You felt your heart start to pound in your chest. The tension between you and the seven-foot man was weighing down on you.

"Why do I feel like you're mocking me?" You pushed, knowing he was hiding something behind those yellow teeth. Alastor chuckled. "No mocking here." He let out a sigh before continuing. "Only a simple contract, and you'll be free of the time loop for good... at least, that is my offer." Alastor held out his hand, with his antlers growing from his head. You took a step back. "Do you have some demands that, if met, would break you out of the loop?"

"I was hoping you'd help me without a deal."

"That technically is not an option, my dear." His hand remained stretched out in front of him. You weighed your options. "Why?"

"Think of this situation as a business transaction, my dear. There are no freebies in this plane of existence. There is a price to pay for everything. And I am only being so generous to you because I want something in return, from you."

Either way, you needed out. "Deal." you replied and shook his hand, you woke up in your bed and looked at the clock it said Thursday, you let out a sigh of relief only to realize you don't know what you agreed to.