#How to Trade using Head and Shoulders Pattern

[truedatafinancialpvtltd]

Head and Shoulders Chart Pattern in Stock Trading

The Head and Shoulders pattern is a chart formation that often signals a reversal in the trend of a financial asset like stocks, commodities, or currencies. Traders use this pattern to spot when a market is about to shift from an upward trend to a downward trend (or vice versa), making it an essential tool for both beginners and experienced investors. This pattern has three peaks with the centre peak shaped like a ‘head’ supported by the two ‘shoulders’ or smaller peaks on either side which gives the pattern its name.

Read Full Blog Post: Head and Shoulders Pattern in Technical Analysis

[chrissssssmut]

How about a yandere fic for Karina for her b-day?

In where Karina invites her fellow idol Y/N to come celebrate her b-day in her home. Hopefully you add some smut 🫶🏻

HER BIRTHDAY, HER RULES

Karina x Male Idol Y/N

AN: Happy Birthday Karina! Decided to make this story first since its her birthday today! Back to regular programming!🥰💕

You hesitated outside the door, shifting the wrapped wine bottle in your hands. Karina had texted you personally a week ago.

“Hey Y/N. My birthday’s coming up. I’m throwing something small, just close friends. Would love for you to come.”

The fact that she’d invited you—you out of all the other idols—made your heart stutter a bit. You two had shared a few polite moments backstage at shows, stolen glances in green rooms, nothing more. Still, Karina had this way of making everything feel personal when she spoke to you. Like you mattered more than you should.

The door clicked open before you could knock.

Karina stood there, dressed in a silky midnight-blue robe that shimmered slightly under the warm lights behind her. It hung off one shoulder just enough to show the smooth slope of her collarbone.

“Y/N,” she purred, her lips tugging into a slow smile. “You made it.”

You smiled back, slightly stunned. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss your birthday.”

She leaned in, gave you a soft cheek kiss that lingered longer than expected. Her perfume was sweet—jasmine, maybe vanilla—and it fogged your brain just a bit.

When you stepped inside, the silence hit you.

No music. No chatter. No guests. Just the flicker of candles on the coffee table and a half-empty bottle of champagne.

You glanced around the penthouse. “Uh… am I early?”

Karina turned, pouring a glass like it was nothing. “Not at all. You’re actually the first one here."

She handed you a flute and raised her own. “Cheers.”

You clinked glasses with a soft smile. “To you.”

“To me,” she repeated, eyes locked on yours as she sipped.

Minutes turned into an hour. You sat on the couch, trading stories, laughing more than you expected to. Every few minutes you’d glance at your phone, expecting more guests to buzz the door, but nothing happened.

Finally, you asked, “So… are the others late or something?”

Karina blinked, then gave a tiny shrug. “They said they’d drop by. Maybe they flaked.”

She leaned closer, her fingers lightly brushing your knee. “But I’m glad you came. Honestly, I only really wanted to see you.”

Your throat tightened, heartbeat ticking a little too fast.

“Me?”

She smiled. “Yeah. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately. I figured tonight might be the perfect excuse to get you alone.”

Her words danced between casual and dangerously intimate.

You looked away, trying to collect yourself. “Maybe I should slow down on the drinks—”

Karina refilled your glass before you could protest. “Don’t be shy, Y/N. Just relax. It’s my birthday, remember? That means I get what I want.”

She sat closer, her thigh pressing against yours.

You took another drink.

Some time later…

Your limbs felt warm. Too warm. You were buzzing—not wasted, but definitely past the point of making sharp decisions.

Karina had settled on the floor in front of you now, sitting between your knees, her chin resting on your thigh. Her robe had slipped further, revealing the delicate strap of a lace bra.

“I always wondered what kind of drunk you are,” she murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your knee. “Turns out you’re cute when you let your guard down.”

You chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “And you’re… kinda dangerous.”

She grinned, tilting her head. “Is that a complaint?”

“No. Just an observation.”

Her eyes darkened a shade. “Good. Because I like when you look at me like that.”

She leaned in closer, lips inches from your throat. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said other people were invited. I just… never sent the invites.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

“I wanted tonight to be just us. I wanted…” She paused, her hand slipping up your thigh, slow, deliberate. “…to finally have you to myself.”

Your breath caught.

She leaned up, kissing your jaw lightly. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

She pulled back just slightly, eyes glittering with heat. “Didn’t think so.”

Your pulse was a wild thing beneath your skin, thudding in your ears like war drums.

Karina straddled your lap now, her knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of your hips. The silk robe slid open as she moved, a glint of smooth thigh and lace flashing beneath it. Her fingers dragged up your chest slowly, nails light enough to tickle, but firm enough to leave you chasing every touch.

"You're so tense," she whispered, brushing your hair back. "Let me take care of you."

Your breath hitched as she leaned in, pressing her lips to your neck—not kissing, not yet. Just letting them hover, her breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea,” you rasped, voice lower than it had been all night. “How long I’ve imagined this.”

“Oh?” she purred, dragging her tongue up the shell of your ear. “Tell me. What did you imagine, Y/N?”

You swallowed thickly, your hands finally moving to grip her waist. Her robe was hanging off her shoulders now, nothing between you but the thin silk belt and your self-control—both of which were about to snap.

“I imagined you like this,” you muttered. “On top of me. Taking control. Making me beg for it.”

Karina let out a soft, low laugh that vibrated against your throat. “Beg? You don’t need to beg. Not tonight.”

She leaned back just enough to untie the robe’s belt, slow and teasing. The knot slipped loose with a quiet whisper, and the robe fluttered open, revealing the full curve of her chest barely contained in a black lace bra, the matching panties hugging her hips like sin.

She reached for your shirt, tugging it up. “Off. I want to see you.”

You didn’t hesitate.

The second it was gone, her palms were on your bare chest, gliding, exploring—fingertips dragging down toward your abs like she was memorizing every inch of you.

"You've been hiding this under stage outfits and leather jackets? What a waste."

You laughed, breathless. "You watch me that closely?"

She smirked. "Only all the time."

Then her lips were on yours—no teasing now. No hesitation. Just heat. Her mouth was soft but demanding, her tongue sliding over yours with perfect control. She kissed like she meant it, like she needed it, and every brush of her lips made your body thrum.

When she pulled back, her lips were slick, swollen.

“I want you to do exactly what I say,” she whispered, grinding her hips against your growing bulge. “Can you be good for me, pretty boy?”

You groaned. “I’ll be whatever you want.”

Her grin turned wicked. “Lie back.”

You obeyed instantly.

Karina rose just enough to strip off the robe and toss it aside, then climbed back over you—only now, she took the belt from the robe in her hands. She leaned down and gently, with deliberate slowness, took your wrists and pinned them above your head.

She bound them together with practiced ease, then tied the belt to one of the couch’s vertical bars.

You tugged slightly, testing. Secure.

“Comfortable?” she teased, her eyes glittering with heat and something darker.

“Only if you sit on my face next.”

Her breath caught—and then she laughed, genuinely. “You’re cute when you’re desperate.”

She slipped down your body, kissing a trail across your chest, tongue flicking one of your nipples just to hear you gasp. Then she undid your belt, popped your jeans button with one hand, and tugged everything down in one swift motion.

Your cock sprang free—hard, leaking, and throbbing.

“Oh,” Karina whispered, staring for a moment before biting her lip. “Pretty.”

She wrapped her fingers around the base, pumping slowly, teasing you with feather-light strokes.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to see this?” she murmured. “All those times backstage when you’d talk to me with that perfect smile, and I’d wonder… if you’d fuck me as well as you sang.”

“Why don’t you find out,” you growled.

She glanced up, eyes dark. “Oh, I will.”

Then she leaned down—and took you in her mouth, slow and devastating.

Her tongue curled around your shaft as she sucked, mouth hot and wet, lips stretched perfectly. She started shallow, teasing the tip with little flicks of her tongue, before taking you deeper, inch by inch.

You groaned, arms straining against the restraints.

She moaned around you, the vibrations making your back arch. Her hands pinned your hips down, keeping you still as she worked you over—messy, relentless, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

“Fuck, Karina—” you gasped. “Gonna cum if you keep that up—”

She pulled off with a pop, saliva trailing from her lips. Without a word, she let your cock rest against her tongue, then lightly slapped it against it—once, twice—watching the way it twitched, glistening with spit. Her eyes never left yours as she dragged her tongue slowly up the underside, savoring the mess she’d made.

“Not yet,” she said sweetly. “You don’t get to finish until I say so.”

Then she stood, peeled off her panties, and straddled you again—her folds glistening with arousal, her chest heaving.

You looked up at her, completely undone. “You’re evil.”

She grinned. “You like it.”

She reached down, guided your cock to her entrance—and then slowly, deliciously, she sank down onto you.

Both of you groaned in unison.

She was tight. Warm. Wet. You could feel every inch of her, the way she clenched around you, how perfectly she fit.

She started to move—slow rolls of her hips, rocking back and forth, her hands planted on your chest. Her rhythm was devastating, pulling you right to the edge over and over.

“Look at you,” she moaned, riding you deeper, harder. “Tied up, moaning for me. You belong to me now, Y/N. No one else is going to get you like this.”

You could barely speak—just gasps, curses, your body shaking beneath hers.

“Say it,” she demanded, picking up pace. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you choked out. “Fuck, Karina—it’s you. Always you.”

Her face lit up with something more than lust. Something fierce. Possessive. Triumphant.

She rode you harder now, skin slapping, your moans echoing in the room, tangled bodies slick with sweat and heat and everything you weren’t allowed to feel on stage.

When Karina’s rhythm grew erratic, her hands gripped your chest tighter, nails digging crescents into your skin. Her head dropped back, mouth parted, hair clinging to her damp neck as her moans turned into frantic whimpers.

“Fuck—Y/N—” she gasped, voice breaking. “I’m… I’m gonna cum—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

Her thighs clenched around your hips, trembling as she rode you harder, faster, chasing that edge with a wild kind of desperation.

You reached up, your hands now free, grabbing her hips to hold her steady, thrusting up into her as her body tensed.

“Karina—cum for me,” you groaned. “I wanna feel you fall apart on me.”

That did it.

She let out a strangled cry as her orgasm slammed into her—“Oh my god—fuck, Y/N—yes—” Her hips stuttered, grinding down hard as her walls clenched around you, pulsing with heat and need.

Watching her come unraveled you completely.

“Shit—fuck—Karina—” you growled, eyes locked on her as your own climax surged through you.

You spilled into her, deep and hot, groaning into her neck as she kept moving—slow now, milking every drop, dragging her soaked folds along your cock with deliberate, overstimulating rolls of her hips.

“God, you fill me so well,” she whispered breathlessly, body twitching from aftershocks. “I can feel it inside me… so warm. So mine.”

You let your head fall back, completely ruined beneath her, chest heaving, sweat-slicked skin against silk and lace.

She leaned down, brushing her lips over yours with a satisfied smirk.

You lay back, skin damp, your heartbeat still stuttering as Karina curled up beside you on the couch.

“Happy birthday,” you breathed.

She smiled against your shoulder. “Best gift I’ve ever had.”

Then, after a pause, she whispered:

“You’re mine now, right?”

Your head turned. “Huh?”

She was still smiling, but there was something unreadable behind her eyes now.

“I mean, after tonight… there’s no going back. You know that, right?”

Her fingers trailed your chest, light but possessive.

You swallowed hard.

She leaned up to kiss you again—slow, sweet, and a little bit dangerous.

And in that moment, you couldn’t tell if you were drunk on the alcohol… or her.

[lazysoulwriter]

warm kisses, cold mountains. - lando norris.

using this request to say that i'm writing for lando now! ♡ (sorry if I take too long bubs)

----

The cold air bites at your cheeks as you adjust the goggles resting on your forehead, your snowboard tucked under your arm. The Austrian Alps stretch endlessly behind you, a breathtaking backdrop to yet another Red Bull-sponsored training session. Snowboarding has been your life for as long as you can remember, and now, being one of the top athletes in the sport, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Well… except maybe for the man currently watching you with a grin from the sidelines.

Lando Norris, the McLaren driver who somehow became the love of your life, sits on a snow-covered bench, bundled up in layers, his nose and cheeks slightly pink from the cold. He’s been here all morning, watching you practice, cheering you on between his sips of hot chocolate.

When you reach him, shaking the fresh powder off your jacket, he immediately opens his arms for you. “Come here,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around his neck.

You don’t hesitate. Settling onto his lap, you feel the warmth of his body seep through the thick layers of your clothes. He tightens his arms around you, nuzzling his face against your shoulder.

“You look amazing out there,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jaw. “I swear, I could watch you do this all day.”

You chuckle, running a gloved hand through his curls. “That’s literally what you’ve been doing.”

“Yeah, well…” He grins, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “Still not enough.”

You sigh, letting your forehead rest against his. The contrast between his warm breath and the crisp mountain air makes you shiver, but it has nothing to do with the cold.

“You should come with me on the next run,” you tease, tilting your head slightly. “I can teach you a thing or two.”

Lando lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I like my bones intact, thank you very much.”

You roll your eyes. “Coward.”

“Smart,” he corrects, his lips curving into a smirk before he kisses you—slow, sweet, and lingering, the kind that makes you forget about the cold entirely.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours again, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your waist.

“I don’t get how you’re not freezing,” he mutters, pulling you even closer.

“Years of training in the snow,” you say with a small smile. “And maybe the fact that you’re a human heater helps.”

Lando hums, clearly content. “I like being useful.”

“You are.” You brush your lips against his cheek. “In more ways than one.”

He grins at that, squeezing your sides playfully. “Good. Because I plan on being your personal cheerleader forever.”

You shake your head with a laugh before standing up, grabbing your snowboard. “Alright, since you won’t come with me, at least wait here. I have one more run, and then we can go back to the cabin.”

Lando groans dramatically. “Fine. But only if there’s hot chocolate involved.”

You wink. “And extra marshmallows.”

His face lights up, and before you can turn away, he grabs your wrist, pulling you in for another kiss—this one a little deeper, a little more lingering.

“Now go,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours for a brief second. “I’ll be here. Always.”

With one last smile, you strap your board on and push off, knowing that, no matter how many slopes you conquer, nothing will ever compare to the warmth of Lando’s love.

And later, when the two of you are back at the cabin, tangled up under thick blankets, his hands tracing lazy patterns on your skin as the fireplace crackles softly in the background—you realize that some kinds of warmth have nothing to do with the temperature outside.

----

[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU

Masterpost

Angel Dust "Angie"

So I can avoid confusion between Angel and angels, his stage name is Angel Dust but he goes by Angie casually.

Side note: I'm too ace for this guy, yikes. Don't mind me clutching my pearls.

Spider family:

More notes under the cut to reduce clutter. There's info about the whole Spider family and some info about the Mafia as well.

Angie's redesign took me a while to nail down. I looked at other people's designs for inspiration, but nothing felt right. I wanted to give his head shape more structure, but it's too iconic to significantly change. Many people added spider fangs but I think they always look too cluttered and ugly. I also wanted the right balance of masculine and feminine for his outfit.

I am not a fan of heterochromia in character design, unless there is a reason or it's used sparingly. Angie's design is complicated enough with the gold tooth, extra eyes and arms, and body patterns that the heterochromia would just be too much.

Instead of giving him fangs that jut out like a real spider, I chose to just give him a main pair of fang-like teeth, while the rest are smaller.

It didn't make sense to me why he's able to retract his tertiary set of arms, beyond simplifying for animation, but I also do not want to manage all of them all the time, so I'm keeping that little ability. I'm justifying it with the idea that he was only ever somewhat interested in the family business, so he had less of a hand in it than his Pop or Arackniss(both of which cannot retract their extra limbs at all). I also wanted the sets of arms to have a hierarchy in how he uses them. Also didn't like the shoulders canon gives his secondary arms. They look weird to me.

The main set has 5 fingers on each hand and are relatively normal, because they're the equivalent of his human arms. The secondary set is a little smaller and a little more bug-like, with 4 fingers. The tertiary/retractable set are smaller and have 3 fingers.

I tried giving him a spider butt, but I couldn't wrap my head around how he would wear any type of pants. Not that he would be opposed to going around nude, but I just wasn't interested in that.

Casual:

I remember reading somewhere that Angel likes to dress more comfy rather than provocatively outside of work. So I decided his work outfits are the skimpy, sexy stuff. His main outfit is his typicall out-in-the-town fashionable stuff, which tends to cover him up more(gotta pay for those goods). And lounging clothes are just purely for comfort.

Main outfit-

I really wanted something that alluded to his mobster background. He may not really be involved of all that now, but it's still a part of him and that would linger. For as much as he modernizes, he's still a product of his time. Anyway, that's why I gave him pinstripe pants and a blazer.

I didn't want to lean too far into either masculine or feminine styles. He is undoubtedly feminine, but he was raised in an environment where suits and violence was the fashion. I actually searched for 40s gangster costumes for women, counting on the fact I'd find the silly sexy costumes so I could get ideas for a more feminine spin of the classic mobster.

I tried a boob window shirt for awhile, but it didn't let me show enough chest fluff. So I traded it for a V neck, which can work for both masculine and feminine styles.

Eventually I settled on a crop top blazer, since it gives a sort of suit jacket vibe while being feminine. I preferred the short gloves from the pilot, at least on his main arms, and used the longer style from the show for his secondary arms.

In canon, his "skin" color and the white of his clothes just don't have enough contrast. So I used more pink, and had the color of his fluff be a different hue than his shirt. I liked the stripes on his jacket before, but I didn't want to add any more complexity, especially when I already committed to the pinstriped pants.

Overall, I like this outfit for him. Maybe that has something to do with my personal tastes, but I think it suits him.

Body markings:

He wasn't a star until Val came around in the 70s, so he wouldn't have been quite so glam before that. He still had more mobster habits. I used his older, pre-pilot, Zoophobia design as inspiration, which used a low saturated purplish color. I thought it struck a nice balance between his mobster roots, and his later glam style.

I wanted to make the pattern something easy for me to remember. The heart design got pushed lower down because I needed more room for his chest fluff. His hands don't have anything because I didn't like how it looked with his lounge clothes. The stripes on his arms reference the stripes on his canon, pilot, and pre-pilot jackets. The stripes on his legs represent garters(suspenders that hold up socks or stockings).

Human- Anthony "Tony"

Many human versions of him that I've seen make him look too modern. I think they would absolutely work for a modern human au, but not for the 1940s. So this is my take on what he would have looked like while he was alive. The Mafia is almost exclusively Italian, and overwhelmingly Southern Italian/Sicilian. Sicily was settled by the Greeks during the antiquity period, so many people there have Greek ancestry. The vast majority had dark hair and a tanner complexion(less than 7% are blonde in modern day). Northern Italy has more variety, with up to 25% blondes in modern day. I find it unlikely that an Italian-American mobster would have such light blonde hair(darker blonde, maaaaybe). I found only a couple of a blonde mobsters, and the pictures still look pretty dark. I just believe he would have had a more typical Mediterranean appearance: naturally dark hair and olive-toned skin, rather than the fanon platinum blonde more typical of Scandinavian areas.

Hair coloring in the 40s was always done professionally, and primarily used by women, and they usually didn't want it to be obvious. Bleached hair on a man(especially with naturally dark hair) would be far too much to maintain discreetly. He hadn't publicly embraced his feminine side while he was alive. His family was Catholic, and being gay was a no-no. But murder was okay for some reason. Don't question the mobster logic.

His brother and sister knew he was gay, parents did not. Arackniss was too tired to care, and Molly was supportive. She would take him to be her "bodyguard" when she would go out and do fun things, but it was partly an excuse she provided for him to do gay things.

Angie had mixed feelings about his participation in the mob. Sometimes it was fun, other times he'd really rather be partying. But he was a made man and swore an oath of loyalty. He can't just back out.

He spent his free time with drugs, guns, and hot guys. Then died of drug overdose in his early-mid 30s in 1947.

He wasn't publicly out as gay until Hell. His parents hated it and basically disowned him when they found out. But why should Angie care at this point? He's already in Hell. So he just parted ways with them(technically the oath of loyalty ends at death. It's not like the Mafia can really kill him for leaving now, since they all just regenerate anyway) and has kept in sporadic contact with his siblings. They aren't close anymore.

Spider Family:

Ma and Pops were mostly because I wanted to play with character design. And since they have no official designs, I had more room to play with it.

The whole family became spiders because they were involved with the "web of crime" that is The Mafia. Family relation does not automatically mean sinners will look similar. They usually don't.

Pops (real name Enrico, the Italian version of Henry. Nickname "Big Cig". Almost every mobster listed on wikipedia had a nickname) inherited the position of mob boss from a relative. I'm not thinking hard about historically accurate crime families, so this is a fictional family that we will pretend had a significant presence. He died not long after Anthony, in the early 1950s in his mid 60s via gang violence. He never managed to get to the same level of power after his death. He's a minor Overlord at best, but does hold some influence.

In Zoophobia, Angel and Arackniss had a dad named Henroin. A play on "heroin". So when considering a real name for him, I searched for a variant of Henry that sounded more Italian. I designed him before I knew he had a design, but I wasn't exactly impressed by Henroin's design, so I totally ignored it anyway.

Design-wise, I wanted to go for a stereotypical mob boss vibe, and it lends itself well to the more bulky, crustacean look. The resemblance to Mr. Waternoose was unintentional. He cannot retract any extra limbs.

Spider traits- I wanted to give everyone varying degrees of spider traits, partially determined by their level of Mob involvement and how dangerous they are. Pa is venomous(through his clawed hands), has super strength(because spiders are proportionally strong compared to their size), can super jump(cuz jumping spiders is the theme), and can summon a couple of guns. He's too large to crawl on walls and can't spin webs.

Ma was always at Pop's side, helping with the less violent aspects like finances. She did her share of poison murders as well. Ma died alongside Pop and is still at his side. She's arguably the more dangerous of the two at this point. She looks easy to take advantage of, but it turns out she has potent venom.

I didn't have anything canon to go off of, so she's technically an OC. I haven't put a ton of thought into her name, but I think I'll just go with Maria. Molly is named after her, I guess.

Design- Had to go with a femme fetale mob wife. The hourglass motif is because of her venomous nature, and not for any husband-killing. She can retract her extra limbs, because she is more dangerous than she initially seems.

Spider traits- she's more venomous than Pa(through her extra limbs), can wall crawl and super jump with her extra limbs, and spin webs(to ensnare prey. I think it might come from her hair bun and/or mouth, but I don't want to think too hard about it.). She's actually the more dangerous of the two, partially because she appears less threatening, and partially because the way her extra limbs are set up gives her more reach and agility. She cannot summon guns, and she doesn't have super strength.

Arackniss (real name is Giovanni, Italian version of John. Goes by Jon. Nicknamed "Little Cig", "Don Jon") worked as the underboss until Pa died, then took over as mob boss, making sure Molly was taken care of. He died in a shootout with police in the 1960s. He was around 50ish. He is on speaking terms with their parents, and sometimes works with them. He's tired and very addicted to coffee and cigarettes.

Apparently an old QnA revealed his real name to be Jonathan. Not sure if it's still true, but I didn't find anything more reliable. I found no examples of any historical mobster named Jonathan, despite there being many many Johns/Giovannis.)

Design- I wanted him to be unable to retract limbs, unlike Angie, but also wanted to avoid drawing all of them. So I used his overcoat to cover them, and he habitually keeps his hands in his pockets. Again, he can't retract any limbs because he was heavily involved with the mob. I changed his eyes from red to yellow, because I felt the yellow suited him better and reduces the overuse of red in general.

Spider traits- He can wall crawl, has super strength(which most don't expect because he's pretty scrawny), has super jump, and can summon guns. He cannot spin webs, and his venom is non-lethal and inflicted via bite(which isn't super useful to him).

Anthony/Tony "Wild Tony" was a soldier in the Mafia. He could have been a Capo(caporegime) if he was more committed. But he had a tendency to party and goof off. Technically, membership of the mob ends through death. Being the first to die, he was separated from the mob and didn't care to recommit. Angie partied hard and enjoyed gun violence, until Valentino came along. Valentino swept him off his feet with promises of fame, fortune, and love, convincing Angie to sell his soul.

Design- already covered most notes, but for organization: he can retract one set of extra limbs because he was involved with the mafia, but he was lower level.

Spider traits- He has less than the previous three. So he can super jump, spin webs(via mouth...he can make it kinky), and summon guns. He technically can wall crawl, but not for very long, and he usually uses it for things like pole dancing. He is not venomous at all, and does not have super strength.

In canon, Molly is in heaven, but I don't find it likely because of how the Mafia works, so she's in Hell now. (Real name is Marietta, which is an Italian version of Mary, and Molly is a nickname)She was the spoiled daughter and knew about the family's criminal activity. She knew, profited, and didn't care. She's guilty by association. Anyway, I'm gonna say she died about 10 years after Anthony, approx 1957, around the age of 40. Haven't thought too hard about how she died. Then she probably went and found some powerful, hot guy to sell her soul to. Not sure.

Design- I was going to give her an extra set of legs, but I couldn't wrap my head around the anatomy of it and just decided to stick with extra arms. She can retract all her limbs because she was "hands off" with the mafia.

Spider traits- she has the fewest because she was the least involved with the mafia. Aside from the obvious physical traits, she can only spin webs(because it is symbolically more domestic. Also via ponytail and/or mouth, but I don't want to think hard about it). She cannot wall crawl, or super jump, has no venom or super strength.

The Mob:

The Mafia is very patriarchal, so all members are men, as women were never formally initiated. But women were still significantly involved in a variety of ways. Most often by instilling mafia culture to the kids, drug trafficking, finances, or economics. Some helped as launderers, couriers, shills(con artist), drug traffickers, informants, and other typically non-violent roles. Some acted as proxies for their husbands in prison(which is becoming increasingly common in modern times).

Quick chart for Mafia organization, via the FBI.

Simple rundown of terminology because I didn't know the difference between Mob and Mafia, and I've now done too much research to not write it down in a relevant place:

mob- a group of people, usually disorderly

gang- crime group, ranging from loosely organized street gangs to structured syndicates.

syndicate- group of individuals or organizations that unite for a common goal. Can be legal or illegal.

cartel- (type of syndicate) a group of individuals or organizations that collude to control a business market via supply and demand. Can be legal or illegal.

The Mafia- originated in Sicily. Ethnically Italian gangs, referred to as "families" that may or may not have actual familial relationships. Characterized by a distinct hierarchal structure.

The Mob- the American extension of The Mafia. (ie. it's the same thing)

The Commission- the alliance of the various Mafia/Mob families. Older generation members, called "Mustache Petes", only worked with fellow Italians, sometimes even only Sicilians.

The National Crime Syndicate- multi-ethnic alliance of various criminal organizations. Most prominent being The Mafia/The Commission and Jewish syndicates.

All somewhat organized crime groups are gangs. Crime syndicates have a higher level of organization, and cartels deal in specific businesses. Eventually the terms mafia and mob were applied to other ethnic gangs that operated similarly. Such as the "Jewish Mob" and "Russian Mafia". But THE Mafia and THE Mob refers to Italian gangs.

(Jan 28, 2025- fixed the tags) (Jan 31, 2025- added a couple more notes about his human design, particularly the hair color)

[gimmethatagustd]

take care of me | jhs

You’d never trade quiet, sleepless nights with your boyfriend for anything in the world, even when sometimes it feels like the world is falling apart around you.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: Established relationship, smut, fluff

Word Count: 3,066

Content Warning: Cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal sex

A/N: Repost in honor of Jay-Slut.

Soundtrack: Sabrina Claudio - Belong To You (ft. 6lack) [Remix]

Gentle. Always gentle. A long time ago, you used to hate being treated gently. The vulnerability that came with someone taking care of you, being soft with you, knowing every little detail about you enough to shape their world around you… it was hard. Scary. Gross, even. You wanted to be tougher than that because one day that gentleness would end and how would that leave you? 

Empty. 

That is, until you met him. 

You felt Hoseok wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest so he could tuck his face into the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled goosebumps across your shoulders and arms, but his grip kept you grounded. His hands pressed into your sides to hold you in place. Like a weighted blanket, you felt secure with him on his side behind you, the rise of his chest comforting as he breathed against your back. 

His warmth and the pattern of his breathing was almost enough to lull you back to sleep. You couldn’t tell what time it was. The storm raging outside knocked the power out just before the two of you climbed into bed, but you assumed only an hour or so had passed. 

“Hey,” Hoseok whispered in your ear. You let out a small ‘mmm’ in response and nestled backwards into his arms even more deeply. “Are you having trouble sleeping?” 

You nodded, eyes still closed. A crack of lightning briefly lit up your dark bedroom with white light bright enough to penetrate your eyelids. 

“Want me to make you some tea?” 

Forcing your eyes open, you twisted around to face him. Hoseok’s hair was messy, wavy strands flopped in every direction. You reached up to brush his bangs away from his eyes. He’d been growing out his hair and you quite liked being able to ruffle the strands around, watching them fluff up and flop to the side. Especially the hair at the back of his neck that was now longer than you’d ever seen it. You liked the way it made him look rugged and slightly unkempt; the exact opposite of your responsible, well-organized Hobi. 

At this point, you were just barely able to make out the details of his features in the dark. But you felt the way he leaned into you and you knew to meet him halfway so he could give you a light peck on the forehead. Gentle. Always gentle. 

“No, it’s okay,” you insisted. You gave him a tap on the nose. “You’re too considerate sometimes.” 

“Never.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“Only a little bit.” 

“A lotta bit.” 

A pout was his next rebuttal. You reached out to press your fingers against his lips as though you were trying to smooth them out. When you moved to pull away, Hoseok caught your hand and pressed it against his mouth again. He kissed your palm, then each fingertip. The softness of his touch sent shivers down your arm. 

“It’s because I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice tired and thick. 

Before you could respond, he cupped your face and pulled you towards him. His lips moved against yours softly, guiding you into a slow dance you’d only dance with him. A smooth hand ran down your side to stop at your hip, squeezing it lightly. Your fingers found Hoseok’s hair, tangling in the loose waves at the back of his head and tugging just enough to make him sigh against your mouth. You captured his bottom lip between your teeth when he slightly parted his lips, taking advantage of the opportunity to nibble and suck on it. 

“You’re gonna start something,” Hoseok spoke gruffly when he pulled away. You tugged at his hair again and got the quietest of moans out of him. “I’m serious.” 

Even if he hadn’t said anything, his growing erection pressed against your body said enough. 

“Maybe I want to start something.”

The room stood still, shadows from the swaying tree branches outside the only movements. Eventually, Hoseok shifted, pressing his chest against yours with enough force to roll you onto your back. Wordlessly, he shifted beneath the blankets to hover above you. His forearms rested on either side of your head while you felt him spread your legs apart with his knee. Slotting himself between your thighs, he lazily rolled his hips into yours. You whimpered from the pressure and the heat radiating off of him. Soon you felt that heat on your neck as Hoseok sucked hickeys onto you, swirling his tongue against your skin. In the past, you thought making love was boring, that you needed to be treated roughly in order for sex to be fun. You were accustomed to being used. Sex with Hoseok, though? It was heated and weightless. 

He left wet kisses along your throat while his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Well, his t-shirt, an old baggy one he never wore anymore. He cradled the back of your head as he pulled it off, careful to rest you back onto your pillow. 

“It’s so cold,” you whispered. 

“Mhm.” 

Hoseok pulled the blanket up, making himself disappear beneath it in the process. With him out of sight, you lifted up the blanket slightly to peek at him, only to drop it in favor of squeezing the bed sheets beneath you as you felt him drag your underwear down your legs. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed forward so your legs were lifted up, feet against his shoulders and pussy on display. The inability to see what he was doing under the blanket only heightened your desire and you felt your arousal drip down. 

One hand pressed hot into your hip where your thigh creased from the angle Hoseok had your legs pushed up. The other slipped between your thighs. 

“Hobiii,” you moaned, head slightly lifting off the bed when you felt his fingers swipe at your wetness gathering around your entrance. 

He coated his fingertips before sliding his fingers upwards, parting your lips until he got to your clit and began circling it. You clenched, though the way he had you folded into yourself made it difficult for you to get any friction to provide relief. Instead he kept you raised and spread open, fingers slippery and sticky. It was easy for him to slip two fingers inside of you, even easier to hit that sweet spot on your front wall to have you lifting off the bed again. The way he pumped into you was sleepy and slow, but you hadn’t expected anything faster. Hoseok shouldn’t have even been doing this; you knew how exhausted he was. He should have been sleeping. 

Instead, you felt him shift, his shoulders dropping down slightly. And then you felt the tip of his tongue flick against your clit. 

“Fuck, babyy, oh fuck.” You immediately let go of the bed sheets and slipped your arms beneath the blanket, fingers digging into Hoseok’s hair. 

“Mmhmm, uhh huhh,” Hoseok moaned into your pussy, his lips closing around your clit. He suckled it softly, applying such light pressure while his tongue licked at you that you felt like you were going to explode. 

“More, baby,” you whined. “Faster.” 

He shook his head, smearing his lips with your arousal, and you weren’t sure if that was an answer to your requests or just him enjoying his late night snack. Likely the former since he returned to gently sucking your clit and taking his sweet time pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

“Please, Hobi.” 

Begging usually got you what you wanted, especially when you used the breathy, high-pitched, pornographic whine that you knew drove him crazy. To add to your plea, you tugged a bit harder on his hair, dragging your fingers through his bangs to pull the strands out of his face. 

Suddenly, his mouth left your pussy and your next whine was that of disappointment. When his tongue returned it was to lick along your lips, and he occasionally pressed kisses everywhere but your clit. 

“It’s bedtime,” you heard him speak from the darkness. “I’m going slow to lull my baby to sleep, okay?” Then his lips were burning into you once again. 

Your build up was gradual, a growing throb as your clit became even hotter and more swollen with every lap of Hoseok’s tongue and curl of his fingers. You squirmed and arched your back beneath him, cursing him for taking his time with you even when you both knew you loved it. The fact that your sheets were already soaked through was a testament to that. Who the fuck cared if you were tired and supposed to be sleeping? Every drag of Hoseok’s hot tongue across your clit, every drip of his saliva coating your pussy had him practically exorcizing your soul from your body. 

But when Hoseok unexpectedly slipped a third finger inside of you and sucked your clit with a tiny bit more force, he finally got you unraveling in a flash of white light that you weren’t sure was you cumming or the lightning outside. 

Your legs twitched uncontrollably where they’d flopped over Hoseok’s shoulders and down his back. Exhaustion made them heavy, and you struggled to move them while Hoseok wouldn’t let go of you. He’d removed his fingers from you and had both his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping you spread open as he continued sucking your clit. 

“Hobi, oh my god, please, I came already,” you whimpered, pulling his hair to get his attention. He moaned a response into your skin and began lapping against you, flicking your clit from side to side. Your body jerked forward, but Hoseok’s grip on your thighs kept you pushed down. 

“Jung Hoseok.” 

Rather than sound threatening, your voice cracked and Hoseok had the audacity to laugh. 

Tears welled up in your eyes and your body jerked again when you felt his teeth gently graze the top of your clit. A guttural moan was torn from your throat as you came a second time, squeezing Hoseok’s hair so tightly you were sure you’d ripped a few strands out accidentally. 

Finally, finally, Hoseok emerged from beneath the blanket. He crawled up to hover over you once again, chest heaving and arms caging you in. 

“It was hard to breathe under there,” he laughed again. 

You opened your mouth to speak but all you could do was whimper once again. 

“What was that, baby?” Hoseok drawled. He dipped his head down to nip at your earlobe and your eyes fluttered. 

“Felt good,” you finally found your voice. 

“Better than tea?” 

“Much better.” 

Hoseok chuckled, sleepy eyes meeting yours through his bangs that fell forward, slightly obscuring his face. The storm outside wasn’t raging as loudly against the windows, but the occasional lightning bolt still lit up your bedroom, allowing you to see more flickers of his face. You brought your fingers to his throat, running them along his Adam’s apple until you reached the dip where his collarbones met, before venturing down his bare chest. When your fingers dragged down his abdomen, you felt Hoseok suck in his stomach and heard him hiss lightly. 

“What about you?” you whispered. You reached the waistband of his briefs, but you didn’t move any lower. Still, you could feel Hoseok’s cock twitch against you. 

“I’m okay, baby. Don’t worry about me. I want you to sleep.” 

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck for a moment before he began to pull away from you. There he was, being too considerate again. How many times had he insisted he didn’t need anything from you? You’d never met someone more selfless. It wasn’t fair. 

You quickly slipped your hand into his underwear and squeezed his cock, rolling your palm around the tip where precum already started to drip out. 

“Shit, babe…” Hoseok stayed nuzzled in the crook of your neck and bucked into your hand with languid thrusts. There wasn’t a desire to chase a high, but more so a desire to relish in the warmth of your hand, the firmness of your grip, the comforting smell of your body wash. 

“Is it embarrassing,” he took a deep breath and pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes as he thrusted again, “that I could cum right now, just from this?” 

“Maybe a little bit.” 

Your honesty and the giggle that followed brought a frown to Hoseok’s face. You had no intention of letting him cum in your hands. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smoothed out his frown when you pulled him into a kiss. Your hands traveled the lean muscles of his back, reaching down to squeeze his ass. 

“Feisty.” You felt him smirk against your lips. Hooking your fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, you pulled the clothing down his thighs and waited for him to sit back to completely remove them. 

“Come up here,” you ordered him, but Hoseok shook his head. 

“I’m too tired to fuck your mouth. Let me put my energy into fucking you the right way.” 

You felt a shiver down your spine and nodded silently as you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. 

Hoseok ran his hands down your legs until he could reach around to the back of your thighs. Pushing them up, he folded you nearly in half as he had when he ate you out, keeping you slightly elevated and wide open for him. Since his hands were occupied, you reached between your bodies to guide him. Hoseok’s breath hitched when you lined his cock up with your entrance. 

He sunk into you slowly, taking his time slipping inch by inch to allow you to adjust and to savor the high that came with that initial thrust. Your mind was still foggy from two orgasms and a lack of sleep, so you appreciated his thoughtfulness as he eased into you. 

“Mmmm,” he sighed once he bottomed out and your bodies were flush against each other. Leaning forward slightly, Hoseok rested both of your legs on his shoulders. 

“Yeah baby?” Your voice trembled as you watched him brush his lips along your calf, planting a soft kiss at your ankle. His hands fell to your waist to hold your hips down as he drew back. He pulled out of you as far as he could just to slowly ease into you once again. Each thrust was thoughtful, intentional. His strokes were slow, but long and deep. 

“You know you leave me speechless,” Hoseok groaned, pushing a bit deeper in his next thrust. Your whimpers got louder when you felt him brush your cervix, his fingers pushing you hard into the bed. 

Hoseok was definitely the biggest you’d ever been with, but even more importantly, he was the most fluid in his movements. He knew how to move his body with flexibility and grace, which for you was the most satisfying aspect of sleeping with him. You never had to put in work to get yourself off; every roll of Hoseok’s hips made his cock glide against your g-spot and his pelvis stimulate your clit. You weren’t an object for Hoseok to use to get off. No, Hoseok put your pleasure in the center of everything he did. 

Although sometimes that wasn’t necessary. He brought his fingers to your clit, but you swatted him away. 

“I’m tapped out,” you sighed. You really didn’t need him to try to make you cum three times. What was this, porn?? Two orgasms was plenty. 

“Are you really?” he smiled, a hand creeping back towards your clit. You swatted at him again. “Alright, alright. I’ll cum without you like an asshole.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You clenched your muscles around his cock and Hoseok let out a low moan. If he was ready to bust from a simple handjob, you were sure he was having to work hard to keep it together now that he was inside you. 

“Do that again for me, baby,” he said in a shaky breath that confirmed your suspicions. Another moan rumbled from him when you did as you were told, tightening around him and pressing your thighs against his abdomen. “Fuck, fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth. 

You loved to watch Hoseok fall apart. The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth when he bit down on the muscle as he was concentrating on each gentle snap of his hips against yours. His strong hands squeezed your waist to ground himself once his thrusts became a bit erratic. His messy hair fell into his eyes when he leaned his head slightly forward to watch your bodies collide. 

“Hobi,” you moaned, reaching up to pull him into a kiss. “Cum for me, baby. You’ve been so good for me.” 

“You,” he took a deep breath, “You are so fucking sexy.” 

Your legs fell down to wrap around Hoseok’s waist as he leaned into your kiss. One hand stayed at your waist while another slid down to grip your thigh against his hip as Hoseok picked up his pace. His breathing came out ragged against your cheek, his lips sucking little kisses along your jaw until he was back to marking up your neck. 

He squeezed you hard when he came, whimpering and moaning your name into your neck like the sweetest lullaby. When he slowly eased his body on top of yours you welcomed the pressure of his weight, even though it was difficult to breathe. 

“Better than tea?” 

Hoseok snorted, but you saw his eyes sparkle in the moonlight as he gently pulled out of you and found his spot beside you once again. “Much better.” 

His long arms dragged you backwards so you were pressed against each other with chests still heaving. 

“Thank you,” you said after a moment. You were beginning to crash from your orgasmic high. Darkness eased your eyelids lower and lower until you couldn’t bear to open them again. 

“You know I’ll always take care of you.” Hoseok nuzzled your neck and squeezed you against his chest. “I hope you sleep well, baby.” 

You murmured a “you, too” and fell asleep to the steady pattern of Hoseok’s breathing and the knowledge that there was no one else who could care for you the way he did.

@rkiveslibrary @mar-lo-pap @likecrazy22 @iadelicacy

[delilahsturniolo]

⟡ ݁₊ welcome to the end of the world! (please leave your sanity at the door.)

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 . . . four friends: nick, matt, chris, and you—find themselves stuck together at the end of the world, trying to survive a zombie apocalypse with nothing but their wits, a questionable supply of snacks, and zero emotional maturity. you’re just trying to stay alive without losing your mind—or falling for someone on the team.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . . . violence, mentions of weapons, cursing, romantic tension, slow burn.

CHAPTER TWO: BEAN COVERED ZOMBIES

read more parts here

you’ve seen some weird stuff since the world went sideways—zombies in bathrobes, a guy trying to trade a bag of toenail clippers for beef jerky, chris wearing a traffic cone as a hat for two full days—but nothing quite prepared you for the chaos that was today.

the four of you are huddled behind a tipped-over dumpster outside what used to be a convenience store. it smells like melted slushie, wet cardboard, and regret. chris is holding lieutenant whiskers like he’s a sacred relic. matt is peeking around the side of the dumpster, gripping his crowbar like it’s about to audition for america’s got talent. nick is furiously scribbling something on his clipboard even though you’re currently under attack.

“how are you writing right now?” you whisper-shout.

“documentation is essential,” nick hisses. “if we don’t track patterns, how will we optimize our future looting runs?”

“we’re literally hiding behind trash while zombies sniff the air for our brains,” you say. “read the room.”

“ooo! write that down,” chris adds helpfully. “that was a good line.”

you risk a peek around the dumpster. three zombies. slow ones, thank god, but still enough to ruin your day (and your limbs). one of them is wearing a cheerleader uniform. you don’t know why that makes it worse, but it does. you were never a cheerleader. too much enthusiasm. not enough sarcasm.

“we can take them,” matt says, eyes flicking between the group.

“we as in all of us, or we as in you beat the undead to a pulp while we awkwardly flail and yell things like ‘nice swing’ and ‘watch out for the one with half a jaw’?” you ask. he looks at you, that tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “flailing’s part of the plan.”

your heart does that annoying flutter again. it’s fine. you’re just sleep-deprived. and possibly emotionally compromised. definitely not because matt keeps looking at you like you’re not just a liability with decent knife skills.

“okay,” nick says, “here’s the plan—”

before he can finish, chris stands up, hurls a can of beans directly at a zombie’s head. typical chris. the can makes impact with a loud thunk. the zombie stumbles, wobbles, and then goes down. the other two immediately groan and start dragging their crusty bodies in your direction.

“you absolute menace.” nick hisses.

“that was kind of impressive.” you admit.

“it was a precision strike,” chris says proudly, cradling lieutenant whiskers like a proud parent. “he’ll learn this technique when he’s older.”

matt doesn’t waste time. he moves like a storm—fast, focused, and slightly terrifying. his crowbar meets zombie skull with a crunch that makes your stomach lurch, but also maybe… swoon a little? okay, gross. focus.

you dive in to help, blade in hand, and together you take out the last one with minimal screaming and only one scraped elbow (yours, naturally). when it’s over, you’re panting, hands shaking a little, adrenaline buzzing through your veins like cheap coffee.

“we’re alive,” you breathe.

“of course we are,” matt says, brushing zombie gunk off your shoulder. “you did good.”

it’s two words. you did good. but coming from him? it feels like a poem. or a confession. you didn’t know, but it felt amazing.

“uh… thanks,” you say, trying not to smile like an idiot. you fail. just a little.

you all shuffle into the store, stepping over the fallen, bean-covered zombie. inside, the air smells like stale chips and apocalypse. shelves are mostly empty, but you find a few cans of soup, a bag of marshmallows, and—miraculously—two rolls of toilet paper. nick looks like he might cry.

“this is the most beautiful thing i’ve seen in weeks,” he says, clutching the toilet paper like it’s made of gold. matt tosses you a bottle of water from behind the counter. “you okay?” he asks, voice low, casual.

“yeah. you?”

he nods. “you’re getting better with that knife.”

you shrug. “guess i’ve had a good teacher.”

he looks at you for a beat longer than necessary. “you’re easy to teach.”

your cheeks feel warm. definitely the post-fight adrenaline. definitely not that look. god, why does the apocalypse have to come with feelings? nick interrupts your spiraling with a triumphant, “we’re done here. let’s go before chris tries to tame a raccoon or starts a cult.”

“i’d be a great cult leader,” chris says, stuffing marshmallows into his hoodie pocket.

you head back toward your makeshift base as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows on broken streets. your group walks in that familiar, weirdly comforting formation—nick mumbling to himself about inventory, chris humming the jurassic park theme song, matt walking quietly beside you, close enough that your arms occasionally brush.

maybe the world ended. maybe everything is broken. but you’ve got food, friends, and feelings you’re not ready to name. and, apparently, a cat named lieutenant whiskers. so yeah. not a bad day, all things considered, except maybe for the zombie that’s now following you from two blocks away.

but that’s definitely a tomorrow problem.

© delilahsturniolo

[hanihaato]

a/n: yandere aventurine x female reader, suggestive, non-consensual touching and forced kisses

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t say a word, darling,” a glowed finger pressed to your lips makes words die on your tongue almost as effectively as the Aventurine’s vivid, piercing eyes. Except for the shallow breaths, you stay in silence, and he glides his hand from your lips to cup your cheekbone. “I must say, you are really bold, testing my connections like that to find you. Being sceptical is a great quality…”

He pushes you onto the bed and lays on top of you, interlocking your fingers together so you don’t ever try to push him off yourself. He stares at you, his smile growing smug with your every try to wiggle out yourself of the embrace.

Aventurine’s head falls on your shoulder. You shiver as he chuckles and his warm breath sends a chill through your spine he muchly adores tracing his fingers on.

“…But not when it comes to me.”

You turn your head away from him. Ugh, you wish you could have at least a full day without him, but you could pride yourself in having a plan good enough to escape the room he locked you up two weeks ago when you first arrived on this planet.

Though, it hurts your ego a bit that Aventurine doesn’t seem to be bothered at all.

He shifts on the bed, and you hate how the sheets that smelled of the hotel’s cleanliness are already starting to stink with his perfumes. The smell you once loved now suffocates you with each breath.

He wraps his arm around your waist so he spoons your back for a second before grasping you tighter and throwing you over himself, having you face him. He entangles your legs before you can think of hitting him with a knee.

You whisper into the pillows.

“…At least I know you are a real deal.”

Aventurine chuckles in a tone you would find endearing if you didn’t feel he laughs at you. When he first started to show you the best parts of the world he’s been living in—the casinos that always had a nice pianist playing on a grand piano, the numerous vine tastings, the breakfasts that make your mouth water, clothing that feels like silk in touch—you could hear the tone everywhere, usually just by your ear. He then told you how he loved how your eyes shone and how much more enchanting you look every day.

You wonder which night he started to plan to cut you off from both worlds, yours and his, to only have him as your everything.

“That’s news to me,” he says, theatrically raising his eyebrows. “You didn’t believe me at all? You must know, darling, that everything I told you after we got together is true. That’s a real privilege right there.”

His finger starts to trace circular patterns on your forearm’s skin. Your heart throbs painfully.

“Aventurine…” Your voice is as demanding as can be the voice of a woman squished in the arms of a man who knows how to use words and guns. “I don’t believe you really love me. That’s not how love looks like.”

The man is still in his position. He blinks, and his eyes are fully on you. You have yet to find out if that look is a warning for you or whether he is enticed by what are you saying. Or maybe he just wants to hear your voice—you know Aventurine is not a man above misleading you into believing you aren’t in a hopeless position just to hear your pleas.

“When you love someone, you want the best for them. You want— You see them as equals. You don’t strip them of what they love to do, and… and people they love. You just… join their life and slowly build a new one together…”

When you fall silent, Aventurine pulls you in and with the other hand brushes hair off your face.

He hums. “That’s an inspiring speech. Oh, and I loved how you looked when you talked about it. Such a view. You must’ve thought about it for quite a while, huh?” He pats you on the head, lingering a bit to loosely twirl your hair on his fingers. “But, dearest, everything you’ve said, well, it all checks out.”

“No.”

“I do view as equals. We have a trade: my everlasting love for a bit of your freedom. It looks like a good deal.”

“It doesn’t look like—”

Aventurine shuts you up with a kiss. You hate, hate, hate this feeling, because in these moments you wonder if you could ever truly fall in love with a man you despise that gives you the hugs you long for and kisses you think about for days.

As he pulls away, with your free hand, you wipe off the traces of the kiss on your lips. Of course, you know it’s meaningless—he kissed you many times, you would have to count in hundreds at least—he will revenge you for that later.

“Awh, don’t be like that,” He says, kissing you again and holding your wrists this time. “You know, I pride myself in being a good businessman. If you are going to put your undying love for me, I will give you the freedom back.”

“You may beg all you want, but with begging you can’t get my love.”

It’s a brave thing to say when you are at the mercy of a man who’s famished for your affection.

“Hm, is that so?” Aventurine chuckles, but for the first time in the evening, it lacks the usual flippancy. He begins to pepper your neck with kisses, and you feel his sturdy hands travel down your stomach and a tugging on your shirt. “Well, say what you want, darling. But since you’ve been by my side for such a long time, you must know I only engage in bets I know I will win.”

[bluefootedbooby]

Hmmmm what about jinx x reader with the hexstrap? 🤭🤭

Take it so well.

nsfw

Jinx was tinkering at her desk, hands fastening intricate leather straps together with rivets. You stride over, smile on your coy face before hugging her.

“Leather? Didn’t realize I was dating a leather smith.”

She chuckles, turning her head to kiss your jawline. “I’m a jack of many trades.” Jinx nibbles the angle of your jaw, kissing and licking your sweet spot. Your hand gently trails to her chest, softly caressing and squeezing her small breasts. Jinx grips your wrist with a smile. “Alright, I gotta focus!” She tilts her head back to her work. You take a moment, your chin on her shoulder, to observe her work.

Yeah… you recognized what it was, a strap-on, but more than that. The leather was embedded with runes, tubes and metal pieces. At the top was a small circular slot that protruded out similar to the one on her zapper gun. On the side was a pouch of glowing crystals, her hex gems that she stole.

“Man, I haven’t seen those since…”

The air seemed to suck out of the room, your mouth shutting immediately. Your eyes instinctively going towards the child drawings on Jinx’s mirror. Jinx twitched slightly eyes wide before her hand combed through her buzzed hair to get herself together. She kissed your hand holding it close.

“I was going over those notes from the Golden Boy. Lots of useful stuff in there. Some of these runes are really powerful. And ya know, a little combining and they make a whole bunch of new stuff! Pretty neat huh?”

She bounced back so quickly, but honestly it was for the best right now.

“Yeah.”

You smile, your hand touching the etched leather.

“So… it’s clearly a strap-on. But um… What does it do?”

And then… that wicked smile that meant you were in for a ride. Jinx grabbed one of the stones, holding it between her fingers a moment.

“Head to the bed, kay? Lemme suit up!”

Jinx laughed out picking up the leather strap-on. She whisked off to somewhere concealed from your view. While she was gone you made your way to the bed, sitting down on the messy surface and waiting for your blazing bluenette. Of course, Jinx always took too long just to tease you and after five minutes of you waiting and squirming in your own pool of excitement she came out wearing the strap-on, the shaft glowing blue with a holographic texture, pasties over her tits shaped like hearts, and high lacey stockings that she customized with her stripe pattern. Jinx held her hands behind her back as she made her way over, the strap almost looked flaccid but when Jinx got near you and your breath panted in front of the toy you swore you could see it twitching.

“Ya like? It’s special… I can feel it all~” Jinx poked the tip of the toy causing her to squirm a little at the sensation. “Whaddaya think?”

You pause, looking at the slightly erect toy in front of you. It’s almost an instinct but you lean in and kiss the side of it. Jinx whined, the toy lifting up more as Jinx grew more aroused. Your eyes raised in wonder seeing her get harder and harder until the toy pointed up in a slight curve twitching and throbbing demanding attention.

———

You barely prepped, Jinx was behind you with her hands kneading your ass as the tip of the holographic dildo kissed your soaked entrance. “Shit toots-- I can feel you —you’re so good…”

Slowly it eased in, Jinx gasped at the electric currents firing her nerves and causing an insane rush of pleasure. It didn’t take much effort for her to glide the toy deep into your core. It was so new, so tight and warm.

“That feel good?”

“Mhm…” Was all you got out before Jinx began to thrust her hips forward and back, rocking into you as her hand remained on your waist. Sure, you’ve used dildos before but seeing Jinx’s fucked out face as she got to feel how warm you were made the whole thing feel so much better.

Lewd and pornographic, their positions changed like a dance routine each second as Jinx wanted to feel you at every angle. Biting her lip as she stared down at your face as your eyes rolled back. “Oh look at you, look at this cunt! You take it so well.. fuuuck! Gonna make me nut in you, bet you’d loveee that.” Your head nodded, tears welling in your eyes as she put her all into you.

In, out, in, out. The slapping noises filling the room as Jinx got closer and closer. “Fuuuck… Fuck! Trinket, I-I’m gonna cum inside you..” It thrilled you those words, her cumming inside you. You didn’t know how that felt, you’ve only been with Jinx and you didn’t care to change that. But the thought did excite you so much that when you began to feel her throb harder inside you, you pushed over the edge first.

“Ah! Jinx! Mm— oooh..!” Your pussy tightened, heating up like the inside of an engine pipe as your orgasm washed across your body. Just feeling that… hearing that. You felt it, some sort of fluid shooting inside you. It didn’t matter what it was or where it came from, those questions you can figure out later. But she was cumming inside you. Her nails dug moons into your skin as Jinx moaned and bent over so her chest was pressed to your body before she pulled out to let her fluid paint your back and ass just because she could.

“Holy… fuck… toots.”

She panted out, bottom lip heavy and eyes tired. From your aching cunt white and slightly blue shimmering fluid dripped onto your clit and down to the bed. Your legs shook and eventually you collapsed down onto the bed. The toy was now soft and Jinx pressed a button and the holograph faded. Soft lips meeting your cheek before you felt a tongue slide across your back and ass as she licked up her ropes.

“Mm, gross.” You joked with your head in your arms. Jinx sat up before lying down next to you to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes. “You love me though~” She teased as her fingers pinched your red and sensitive cheek.

“I do,”

“Good, cause I love you too.”

—————————————————————————

💙🪿

[kimoralov3]

yes i am once again writing blurbs based on things that happened to me

---

rafe had grown used to many things since you had moved in with him. you crying on the kitchen floor was not one of them.

“baby? what happened? why are you crying?” he asks as he kneels down on the floor beside you. you lift your head up, the redness and puffiness of your cheeks paired with the tear streaks sending an ache through rafe’s chest.

“it’s all wrong!” you manage between sniffles. rafe grows even more confused, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. he tried to think of what could have possibly made you this upset, but nothing immediately came to mind.

“what’s all wrong? use your words, baby.” he says as he rubs soothing patterns on your arm. 

“my cookie dough. it’s all wrong.” you mutter as you wipe some tears from your face.

cookie dough. you were crying over cookie dough. he shouldn’t be surprised, really. to him shit like this seems stupid, but he knows how sensitive you can be sometimes. that’s the only thing that keeps him from smiling at the situation.

“what’s wrong with it, hm? tell me.” he instructs as he helps you stand on your feet, brushing some dirt off your dress. 

“well i wanted to make you snickerdoodles because you mentioned a few days ago that you’d never had one before, but the dough is just… wrong. i can’t roll it together because it’s too sticky.” you explain as you brush some of your hair out of your face. 

rafe nods, taking a look around the kitchen. the mixture in the bowl looked pretty normal to him, but what did he know? you were the baking expert around here. 

“we can fix it, right? i’m sure you’re not the first person to mess up their cookie dough.” he says as he wraps his arms around you. “why don’t you go calm down a little while i look up some solutions, hm? does that sound good?”

you nodded, taking one last sad look at the mixing bowl before leaving the kitchen. rafe watched as you left, standing with his hands on his hips. god, you were really something else. he wouldn’t trade you for anything, though.

---

@ivysprophecy @murdockcastleslut

[corvidcrossbow]

I crave the kinda mornings with Daryl where you're both mostly asleep, locked in that dazy trance you tend to have after waking up just enough to be conscious, enough you can mildly function, but you still feel so hazy, but you need each other.

It'd already be pretty late in the morning. Neither of you had any reason to get up, and didn't want to: your bed was just so warm and comfortable, especially with Daryl spooned around you from behind, his strong arm draped over your waist and holding you to him.

He'd start to grind himself up against your clothed behind, lightly groaning a little against the back of your neck.

“Dar…” You exhale softly, eyes still closed. You bring your hand up to trace patterns on the forearm he has you secured in. You arch your back just the slightest bit, pressing him further into you, feeling how his dick starts to harden.

“Pleas’...” He grumbles sleepily, and you know exactly what he's asking for. You reach your arm down to push your pajama pants and whatever underwear you have on, maybe none, down to your upper thighs, blanket still draped over part of your body.

You help him to do the same, weakly tugging at his pants and such, too lazy to put actual effort into doing so, again just enough so that his cock was out. Daryl nudges his knee forward, pushing against your top leg to shift your position and angle your hips up, spreading you a little wider.

He rubs himself up against your soft asscheeks, mumbling incoherently into your skin and hair. He's just slowly humping you, enjoying just how smooth you feel against him – the silkiest, most addictive texture he's ever known.

He says something with a little more structure to it, but again, it's mostly unintelligible. Yet you know him so well you don't need actual real words to communicate. So you reach back, lifting your leg some and helping guide him to you, gathering some spit in your palm and running it down the shaft before he eases into you with another groan.

You let out a drawn out moan, relaxing back into the bed now that you're situated and don't have to do anything more. Daryl readjusts his hips then continues his rocking motion, going deeper into his humps as he now slicks in and out of you each time.

He snakes his other arm under your torso, hand finding its way between your legs to start and touch you too. You layer your arm over the one he has you wrapped in, slightly gripping at it.

“Mmm… baby…” You mumble, needing to recalibrate the pattern of your breathing. You arch further, pushing him deeper and bringing your upper back flush against his chest. He grunts in response, moving a little faster, but never going ‘quick’. He didn't want to rouse enough to lose this fuzzy, sleepy state.

His breath would grow heavy and ragged, pressing his forehead into your shoulder blade. You sway to meet him, helping keep the rhythm when he wavers a little, and the bedsprings whine some from the slow movements.

He keeps that arm around you the whole time, holding you against him, tighter as your body tenses and trembles and you cum, grunting as he feels your walls tighten up like they're begging him to finish too. He rolls you the smallest bit, using his body weight to push as deep inside you as he can and fill you, shoving his knee to spread your legs further apart. He tries to watch himself, but his forehead just falls to your spine.

You gasp a little, that familiar warmth spreading through you. He rolls back, removing his hand from your pelvis, but staying inside you as he softens. He presses messy kisses over your shoulders, back and the nape of your neck.

“Love ya, sunshine,” Daryl whispers, tucking his head back into the crook and cuddling close to you.

“Love you too, angel,” You reply, leaning into him. The two of you would stay like that, lazy and just drifting back to sleep, ignoring the obvious morning and daylight that peers through the blinds. You wouldn't trade this for anything.

Who needs warm cups of tea or coffee in the morning when you have warm creampies ♡

[baocean]

Okay I have a blurb idea them moving in together but also maybe them finally having sex for the first time in the apartment they share or house if you feel comfortable if not then just them moving in together

the kitchen smelled like fresh paint and takeout food, the result of a long day unpacking.

your friends were taking up any space available on the couch and arm chairs, as you stood in the kitchen.

noah, sarah and john's three year old, was sat on the kitchen counter in front of you as you slyly handed him another oreo, one of the only foods jj packed before the move.

"busted." jj catches your attention from the doorway, leaning against it as he smiles.

you turn back to noah, a fake look of shock painting your features as the little boy giggles through a mouth full of cookie.

he stepped closer, his arms coming around your middle and letting his head fall to your shoulder.

"how many of these have you had today?" jj lifts another oreo towards noah. just as his little hands come to grab it, jj pulls back and pops the entire thing into his mouth.

"too many. but he keeps asking and i can't say no." you say, turning your head ever so slightly to meet him for a kiss.

"i'm gonna have to play bad parent one day, i just know it." jj shakes his head, before smiling when he sees the look on your face.

you'd never talked about having kids with jj, it was always sort of implied. it never got old, the feeling when jj reassured you he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

"is he eating oreos? yn!" sarah scolds from across the room, jj flying away from you.

"now you're really busted. let's get out of here, kid." in one swift motion, jj picked noah off the counter and set him back down on the floor, grabbing his arm to run out of the kitchen.

you're laughing when jj turns to look over his shoulder at you, grinning so big it makes your heart hurt.

it’s sometime past midnight when the house finally settles. the only sounds now are the hum of the fridge and the low rustle of blankets as you and jj lay in bed, tangled in each other.

your muscles ache in the best way, worn out from a day full of lifting, laughing, and life. the mattress is still too firm, the sheets smell like the cardboard boxes they came out of, and yet, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

jj’s on his side, facing you, one hand lazily tracing patterns on your stomach under the hem of your shirt. his hair is still a little messy from earlier, a rogue piece falling into his eyes.

you reach over and smooth it back, fingers curling into his hair just to keep touching him.

“this doesn’t feel real yet,” you whisper, your voice quiet in the darkness. “it’s like…we played house all day. and now we’re just waiting for the grown-ups to come home and tell us we made a mess.”

jj smiles at that, tired and soft and so deeply him. “except we are the grown-ups now,” he says. “terrifying, right?”

you let out a little laugh, nose scrunching as you nod.

he watches you for a second. then, more serious, more real, he says, “but if i’m gonna screw up adulthood with anyone, i’m glad it’s you.”

"jj. dont say things like that, were not gonna screw up."

"definitely not with your detailed, color coded lists for every situation were in." he smiles, brushing his thumb gently along your cheekbone, "i love you."

you smile, because it’s the easiest thing in the world to do when he’s looking at you like that.

“i love you too,” you whisper, kissing him slow, like you’ve got forever. because you do.

and when the kiss deepens and he pulls you closer, closer than close, you know there’s no need to rush. this is just the first night of the rest of your life.

masterlist

taglist -  @dr3amgrlll /  @jjmaybankmylovee / @smokahontas-113 /  @abigailovesz / @enchantedstarfish / @reeseswirl / @lmaowhatt / @moonywhisp3rs / @dylsdaily /  @idli-dosa / @bloodofadoll / @cokewithcameron / @mariamadison6-blog / @rrosiitas / @always-reading / @sunflouer04 / @bambigirl10 / @mirellef2001 / @wasiasproject / @kissesandmartinis / @gublerstylesobrien1238 / @isinpfortvdmen / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @mjwashere / @sideboobrry11 / @ameliacione13 / @wrtzia / @sanriobuny / @dramagodesss / @luvrclub / @yesshewrites1 / @ayy1234567 / @doesnt-care / @rainingcecilias / @4jjsbank / @blythee1

[markkiatocafe]

i just wanna say i love your writing sm!!🩷🩷🩷 (and also came here to request a johnny fic lol literally about anything, i just wanna read a johnny fic because theres NOT ENOUGH and im so down bad for johnny 🙏) have an amazing day my glorious queen!

3:35pm

𖠚 warnings: johnny vaguely calls reader pretty, brief skinship, the reader is obsessed with pride and prejudice (bc i am…), nothing else that ik of !!!

𖠚 synop: just because johnny complains about your repetitive watching habits, he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

𖠚 pairing: fem!reader x bf!johnny

𖠚 w.c: 369

𖠚 a/n: oml tysm (っ◞‸◟c) maybe a lil tmi but i have always had a love for writing n being able to mix two things that i love so dearly is such a blessing… ntm the fact that you all enjoy my writings so much!!!! that makes me so happy :( have a beautiful day!!!! i hope you enjoy this short johnny fic ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა also i’m sorry i keep mentioning pride and prejudice in my fics…it’s jst THAT good </3 p.s i love your pfp sm, it’s so cute !!!!

you and johnny were out on his porch, doing nothing much, really. you were sitting on his swinging chair, he was scrolling on his phone looking for a show, your head was laid on his shoulder. you were planning on reading some more of your book, which was placed on your lap open upside down, using your legs as makeshift bookmark, but that was quickly forgotten as your pointer finger traced his tattoos, eyes admiring the intricate patterns.

johnny glanced down at you, cracking a smile as he saw the way your eyes glittered at the ink on his skin. “what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

you were snapped out of your little trance as he spoke, looking up at him and letting your hand fall to his thigh, running your thumb over it absentmindedly. “nothing much,” you replied casually, but you could feel a bit of a warmth trailing up your neck. “did you find that show you were looking for?” you quickly changed the subject, tilting your head towards his phone.

he shook his head, rolling his eyes. “don’t even get me started,” he said, knowing you already did. “i can’t find it anywhere. literally, anywhere! i even googled it, it’s like it doesn’t exist or something.”

you laughed softly, leaning over to look at his phone and letting out a tsk. “unfortunate…,” you said halfheartedly, looking back up at him, “can we rewatch pride and prejudice together again?” you offered, wiggling your eyebrows.

johnny groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “we’ve watched that 4 times in the past month! do you watch anything else????” he complained, forcing down a smile. as much as he joked about how much he hated it, he loved watching anything with you. he thought of you sharing things you liked as your way of making him a part of your life, a part of you, and he would never turn that down.

“what can i say??? it’s good!!!” you retorted, laughing fully, now. deep down in your heart, you also knew that johnny wasn’t literally mad. if he was, well, he probably wouldn’t have watched it with you the other 4 times.

[corduroyserpent]

“How do I look?” Tianlang-Jun steps out from behind a floral screen, already posing with his chin placed delicately against the back of his hand. His dark claws are hidden for the moment and the vibrant red of his nail dye nearly matches the gentle dashes of rouge across his cheeks and lips.

Su Xiyan has been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and she straightens her spine now that the wait is over. The faint sound of other inn guests wanes as she steps deeper into the cozy room she purchased for the night. Having changed into Tianlang-Jun’s robes in far less time than it took him to put on hers, she has had ample space in which to grow used to the trailing sleeves and ill-fitting length. She moves slowly, with grace, so that she does not trip over a dark hem embroidered with a swirling golden pattern.

Her own clothes are less ostentatious, though she also prefers to wear black. She can’t quite say that her robes suit Tianlang-Jun—her lover is taller and has more width at his back and thighs—but with the demure way he’s holding himself, his hair devoid of ornamentation, a certain beauty emerges.

Not to mention her belt hugs his waist in a way that should be against the law.

“Well?” Tianlang-Jun lowers his voice, peeking at her from beneath long eyelashes. “Don’t be shy, my dear. Tell me I’m pretty.”

Su Xiyan says, “Your shoulders are too broad. Take it off.”

“Eh?” Tianlang-Jun’s tapered brows pull together as he’s caught between dismay and confusion. “What’s wrong with having broad shoulders?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want you to tear my clothes.”

“Ah, but my Xiyan is so affluent. Surely she can afford a new set of robes.” Tianlang-Jun’s smile returns. “Though why bother, when you can simply wear mine?”

She hums in neutral acknowledgement, distracted by his mouth. The deep red stain in the middle of his lips. She doesn’t wear any cosmetics so she’s uncertain where he procured his. That silent nephew, most likely. Regardless of where he got it, he looks unreasonably good.

“Oh, I almost forgot about these.” He takes out the small black stones set in his earlobes and offers them to her. “Trade with me.”

She reaches up to remove her earrings—a pair of azure flowers each with a dangling stem of silver. They were a gift from her shizun. She holds no emotional attachment to them. And Tianlang-Jun, it turns out, wears them better than she ever has.

Su Xiyan takes him by the chin, tilting his head down. “You are pretty, aren’t you?” 

“Devastatingly so,” Tianlang-Jun agrees, gaze unfocused from the shrinking proximity. “You had better hurry and make me your wife before my beauty captures the heart of another.”

She doesn’t allow his eager lips to land, turning his head away. Undeterred, he kisses her high on the cheek, just under her eye. 

“You’ll leave a mark,” she chides.

“Don’t I always?” Tianlang-Jun wets the pad of his thumb and rubs at the pink stain. He clicks his tongue, sheepish but far from apologetic. “I think I’m making it worse.”

“Coincidentally,” she says, “that is also something you always do.”

Besides, it’s not as if they have anywhere to be. Su Xiyan wouldn’t have agreed to this little dress-up game otherwise.

Tianlang-Jun takes her ribbing with good humor, and this time his lips do manage to capture hers. Tianlang-Jun kisses her, rapturous and slow, taking his time to enjoy her like she’s a well-loved copy of his favorite play.

Heat slides through her, warm and comfortable and embarrassing. She nips at his bottom lip, growing restless with desire. Her feelings for him are a terrible nuisance. It would be better if she liked him less, if she didn’t crave him during the days they were apart, but she can’t help it. 

Her shizun would be furious if he knew.

Good.

She breaks the kiss, tugging at Tianlang-Jun’s collar. “I was serious before. Take this off.” 

“What a scoundrel you are,” Tianlang-Jun says, playing the scandalized maiden. His voice goes soft and his eyelashes quiver. “Getting me alone, begging for me to remove my clothes in front of you—ah, Xiyan, we can’t. It’s not proper.”

“Shall I disrobe first?”

Tianlang-Jun gasps. “Heavens, no!” He pulls away dramatically, a hand to his head. His other hand stays at her waist because he’s absolutely incorrigible. “How would I resist the nude form of such a handsome young cultivator? We can’t, my darling, we mustn’t.”

He’s so annoying. She needs him. Desperately. 

Face impassive except for a telling flush at her ears, she pushes him towards the bed. He “resists” which mainly involves a good deal of making whimpering noises that no one in real life has ever made, and shamelessly feeling her up as he pretends to fight against her.

When he trips backwards onto the bed—his own doing—his hair spreads out around his head in a wavy puddle of deep black. He says, “You must take responsibility if you do this.”

Su Xiyan climbs on top, her legs bracketing his thighs. She’s breathless for some reason. Tianlang-Jun’s acting is atrocious but the robes and the rouge and his long eyelashes… She slides her thumb along his bottom lip. 

“I suppose I can.” She slips her thumb into his mouth. He closes his lips around it, eyes heavy-lidded but focused on her own. “If my wife insists.”

Tianlang-Jun’s breath stutters. She feels it. And there’s another thing she can feel awakening beneath her.

“Well?” She moves her thumb. Small, subtle in and out motions. Tianlang-Jun’s tongue drags against her and when she finally pulls free, his chin jolts up as if in chase. “Is that what my wife wants?”

Tianlang-Jun circles his arms around her neck and says, starry-eyed, “Yes, husband.”

Su Xiyan kisses him, deeply, feverishly, no longer able to pretend she could bear to hold back.

And all through the night until morning (plus a while after) she makes certain to take very good care of her wife.

[also on ao3]

[mushroom-words]

Honey, You're a Golden Star || Sirius Black

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Sirius Black x GN!Reader Words: 1188 Note: This has been rewritten and reposted from a previous blog. This has never been my favorite work, but I think rewriting it has improved it a little bit. Warnings: None. There's some making out, but that's about it. Very light petting. Summary: You and Sirius celebrate moving into a flat of your own.

MAGIC PULSED THROUGH the air and filled the newly furnished apartment. It vibrated with happiness and a beautiful light that neither natural nor artificial illumination could cast. The pleasant thrums of energy mingled with the joyful laughter and conversation which celebrated what was apparently a momentous occasion.

        Moving out of your parents’ home was a difficult decision for you to make. Especially when it meant that you would be, at least in part, leaving one world to join another. Trading a traditional one for a magical one. But it had been a necessary choice. Saving up had been the most difficult part of it. You’d barely had enough for you to get your own place.

        Moving into the flat with your boyfriend, however, was far scarier. Yet you had done it. With the help of your friends and their enviable powers. You couldn’t be happier.

        Lily raised her wine glass. “To our friends, for taking this big step in their lives,” she smiled.

        “To (Y/N) for being brave enough to take on Padfoot alone,” Remus amended with a hearty chuckle.

        “Without magic,” James added.

        Peter grinned. “It’s admirable, really. I don’t know how you do it.”

        Your head tossed back in light peals of laughter. The friendly jests had become just another part of this life that you’d grown to love. It was teasing that you knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that was only good-natured and filled with nothing but love for their friend. The group had been linked at the hip since they were eleven, when they’d all attended their first year at their wizarding school.

        You shared a similar friendship with Lily. You had grown up as her neighbor and best friend. The two of you were in the same class until she had received her own acceptance letter when she turned eleven and left to attend Hogwarts. That was where she had met the boys. She had been the one to later introduce you to Sirius Black.

        Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re all hilarious. Really witty, the lot of you.”

        He took a sip of his wine. Despite the wry drawl in his voice, his eyes glimmered with the deep fondness he had for all of them. He couldn’t very well hide the small smile that teased his lips. You smiled and stepped into his side, wrapping an arm around his waist as you held your wine glass in your other hand. He slung his over your shoulder and tugged you closer.

        Lily smiled sweetly at you. She then rolled her strikingly green eyes and nudged James. “Be nice,” she scolded. “This is supposed to be a celebration. Don’t be nasty.”

        Remus chuckled. “You’re right, you’re right.” He cleared his throat and raised his glass in the same manner as Lily had. “To our friends, Sirius and (Y/N), for taking this next step—for moving towards independence,” he said.

        James huffed. “I don’t know how I feel about this independence thing.”

        “James!”

        “All right, all right,” he chuckled. “To our friends.”

        “To our friends!”

The sun had long since kissed the day goodbye by the time everyone decided to take their leave and give you a chance to settle in for your first night in the flat. In its place was the moon, shrouded behind gloomy clouds and rain that danced against the windows in a peaceful pattern.

        You glanced towards the kitchen to make sure the well-used wine glasses were being cleaned. The sponge swirled each glass before the soap bubbles were rinsed down the drain. It was only a small display of what you knew magic could do, but it amazed you nevertheless.

        Your eyes drifted to where Sirius sat beside you on the couch with your legs slung over his lap. He was distinctly focused on the program playing on the TV that he had first mocked when he was first introduced to the “Muggle box with moving pictures.” His gaze was like the light first breaking through a storm, and his dark curls fell to frame his sculpted face in his typical end of the night style.

        Sirius had no right being as utterly, devastatingly beautiful as he was. But he was all yours. Your northern star to guide you through the dark. The thought made you smile.

        Sensing your stare, he turned his head and smirked. “I know I’m beautiful, love, but you can’t just admire masterpieces for free.”

        You immediately rolled your eyes at him. He always had this air of arrogance surrounding him, but you knew how sweet he actually was beneath it. It made it all that more enticing to you. Sirius knew he was good-looking. He also knew the effect he had on you. But it was those moments where his real personality shone through that had the butterflies still fluttering around in your stomach.

        Playing along, you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “There. Does that cover my fee?”

        “Hardly,” he scoffed. “I need about a hundred more of those.”

        “Let’s negotiate.”

        He raised a brow at you, but before he could say anything more, you had pulled him in for a proper kiss. Your fingers turned his face to yours, your lips melding together gently. You dared to tease him with the tip of your tongue. It would rile him up, and that was one of your favorite things to do.

        Sirius rose to the bait, just as you knew he would. His hand ran up over your knee and squeezed your thigh. He pushed forward to deepen the kiss, enticing your mouth to open more to let him in. Your hands weaved into his hair and twisted the silken curls around your fingers. You pulled soft grunts from the back of his throat every time you would tug the wild strands.

        When you finally broke the passionate connection, Sirius had moved you down onto your back and settled between your thighs. A hand held your leg in place as it hooked comfortably over his hip. You smiled and bumped your nose against his, closing your eyes and taking in his scent and his presence.

        “I love you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

        “I love you.” You opened your eyes again, and your breath was immediately stolen by his smoldering gaze. You bit your lip. “So… does that cover my fee?”

        Sirius chuckled softly, his fingers stroking your leg lovingly. “Just about. But I think you’re still a little short there, love.”

        “You’re insatiable,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes again. But you gingerly scrape your fingernails across the back of his neck, smiling at the way he shivered and nearly purred, melting into your touch.

        Your hips tipped up to rub against him just faintly. “It is our first night together in our own place.”

        Sirius hummed and rocked his hips forward. You gasped softly and let a small moan slip past your lips. His gaze darkened at the noise. He had always known just how to get you right where he wanted you. Using it to his advantage was his best game.

        “So let’s go break in the new bed.”

[lauren-likes-to-type]

Artistic S/O Headcanons

[Inside Out 2] Valentina [Val] Ortiz x Female Reader

Summary: General and romantic headcanons for Val with an artistic female S/O.

Word Count: 1.19k Content + Warnings: None Category: Fluff || Headcanons

[A/N]: This was fun to write! I included general artist stuff like sketching and painting, but I also included Reader being a musical artist and if Reader likes to write.

Enjoy!

Personally, I like to think that Val has an artistic side herself

Whenever she’s not practicing or training for hockey, she’s curled up somewhere sketching or painting whatever comes to mind

I like to think she’s a pretty decent artist too

So when she learns that her S/O is also into art, she’s thrilled

She’ll come to you most of the time for advice or ideas on a piece, especially if you’re at a higher skill level than she is

Sometimes there’ll be days where you’re hanging out alone together and just sitting close to each other while you both draw

If she isn’t in the mood to sketch or paint, or if she just doesn’t have any ideas, she’ll either lean against your shoulder to watch you work, or she’ll settle behind you and pull your back into her chest so she can hold you

When in the latter position, her arms will rest comfortably around your waist without getting in the way and her head will plant itself gently against your shoulder so she can peer over and watch you work

She’ll throw in plenty of compliments here and there about whatever it is you’re working on

If you’re looking for inspiration or encouragement, she’ll provide it for you somehow

If you like to sketch people and she sees that you’ve drawn her, she’ll get uncharacteristically sheepish, telling you that you made her look so good in your style and that she feels honored you chose her as your model

Definitely likes to do that challenge where you trade off drawings every five minutes and add something random to it until it’s a finished piece

I can either see her as having a really loose, relaxed style, or a unique abstract style where she focuses more on the angular sides of things

Regardless of her own style, she 100% likes to doodle you from time to time, especially if you’re nearby and she can use you for reference instead of going based off of memory

If she doesn’t draw or anything, then she’ll happily ask you to give her quick lessons here and there

Though, most of the time she just stares lovingly at you, adoring how passionate you are about your craft and how easily you can explain things to her (even if she’s not necessarily listening)

If you don’t have your sketchbook or anything solid to draw on, she’ll offer you one of her arms and a few pens or markers so you can doodle something random on her skin

She likes the feeling of you holding her arm so still and tracing random patterns or shapes against her skin, and she often gets lost in a daze just watching you draw on her

When you finish, she’ll keep her sleeves rolled up. Partially to let the ink dry, but mainly to show off what you’ve drawn on her

Not sure if she’d be the type to get tattoos, but if she ever did get one, she would go to you immediately to help her design one

If you ever enter your pieces into competitions or shows for school or otherwise, she’s going to be your #1 supporter the entire time. Even if you don’t get first place, she’s cheering you on and offering you every ounce of encouragement she has in her body

You’re always there to cheer her on during her hockey matches, so she likes to return the favor, even if it’s just a small competition

If you ever open commissions, she’s the first one to buy one from you, and she’ll continue to buy one from you at least once or twice a month

She’ll bring it up to her team and gladly show off your work, telling them you’re open for commissions

They all also buy a piece from you each time, wanting to support you almost as much as Val does herself

Her teammates adore you with all of their hearts, and they love how happy you make Val, so they want to return the favor and let you know that they admire and appreciate you

Val absolutely spam-likes your posts if you have an art account. That, and she’ll post each and every one on her story with compliments (as well as lowkey bragging that she has such a creative and talented girlfriend)

Will 100% pose or model for you if you want her to, though she’ll crack plenty of flirty jokes throughout your process, wanting to see you smile as you work

If you’re just wanting to have a chill session where you’re just drawing (separately or together), she’ll put on music in the background, occasionally singing along with it if she knows it

Speaking of music:

If you’re more of a musical artist, she’s absolutely wanting to listen to whatever you make, even if it’s just something as simple as a beat

If you play any instruments or sing, she’s sitting right by your side or holding you from behind as she listens to you play or sing

I can see her having a pretty voice, so if she were to ever sing with you, she’d likely make harmonies or duets sounds great

Definitely listens to any music you make and will support you all the way if you choose to try and make it into a career

There’ll definitely be mini concerts in the kitchen or while listening to music together while cleaning the place, and she always makes sure you know just how beautiful your voice is

She’ll help you come up with lyrics or melodies if you need it

To make sure you know she’s being genuine with her support, she’ll throw in specific things she likes about your art, musical or not, so it doesn’t sound like a vague, generic compliment

She’d compliment how bold your strokes are when painting or sketching, how specific features of a face or item you doodle look stunning, how captivating the color palette you chose is, etc.

She’d also compliment how smooth your voice is if you’re singing, how catchy the melody you came up with is, how the chords you chose match the tone of the song perfectly, and so on and so forth

If you like to write stories, she’s reading each one the moment you tell her she can

Writing a book? She’s there whenever you need help coming up with a scene or a plot point

Typing up a random short story to get the creative juices flowing? She’s listing out potential names for characters and describing things that could catch the reader’s attention

She’ll help you develop your own writing style over time and will celebrate every little victory with you, even if it’s something as simple as finishing a chapter or scene you were struggling with

Overall, she’s an incredibly supportive girlfriend to her artistic S/O, and she absolutely wants everyone to know just how incredibly talented you are. She joins in regardless of how good she is at drawing, painting, sculpting, singing, making music, writing, etc. because she loves making sure you know that she’s just as passionate about your interests as you are

[viktorarcanedeservesbetter]

whimsy jayvik drabble???

pls <3

Viktor loved the farmers market.

It was his favorite thing in this little grassy land town, besides the fact he and Jayce were accepted into the population with no question at all. The market reminded him of early Zaun, of being carried on his mother's and father's back, as they shopped in the small stalls of the lanes.

When he got older those trips died, both due to their increase in workload and the increase in enforcers, and he hadn't realized how much he missed it.

This shopping trip wasn't for anything important. They had enough seeds and small plants in their garden for herbs and vegetables, their chickens had been producing enough eggs, and Betsy gave them enough milk to make butter and cheese.

So, this was what Jayce liked to call a "sweet treat" trip.

One of the first booths was a little pottery sale, bowls, plates, pots. Viktor stopped, shouldering his tote, and picked up a small bowl. It was cute, made from clay and painted in blues and greens. With a start, he jumped, and held up the bowl to Jayce when he realized what shape it was.

"Jayce, look!" He said, holding it in front of his partner's eyes. "A turtle bowl!"

Jayce took it from him, rolling it in his hands. "Cute," he decided. "What would we put it in though? We only have one set of keys, and we put those on a hook."

Oh yes, their key hook, which they'd also found at an antique store. Whenever you hung something, it would lower the mechanism, and a cat would pop out! Jayce had refurbished it to be like new, turning the cat from rusted white to orange. He said it matched their personalities.

A million different uses passed through his mind. Coins, nails and screws, ticket stubs from their trips to the theatre, all other small things. They had a ton of stuff lying around they could put in the small bowl.

"We could use it for things, Jayce!" He argued. "We have many things lying around that could fit in it."

Jayce looked at him from the corners of his eyes. "We could always organize our things?"

Viktor blinked at Jayce.

Jayce blinked back.

His partner turned to the owner, handing over the bowl. "We'll take this." Viktor beamed, wrapping his hand around Jayce's elbow. His partner kissed the side of his head, then leaned, plucking up a teapot. "This one is fun," he said, showing it to Viktor. "Elephant."

It was fun. It was bright blue, molded into the shape of the animal, with the nose acting as the spout and the head as the lid. Two large ears stuck out from the side. It matched none of their dinnerware. Nodding, with an even bigger smile, Jayce handed the teapot over.

"This one as well."

They watched as the woman running the booth beamed, wrapping the item in newspaper and tying it up gently. She slid her card into one of the folds, then wrapped it in a large cloth, tying up the ends. Jayce handed her a wad of cash.

"Thank you!" She smiled, as she traded the items for the money. "By the way, the cloths I wrapped your things in have many uses. I use them as napkins, I wrap breads in them, I use them to decorate. They're scraps from my quilting."

Viktor carefully placed both at the bottom of his tote, placing his own protective cloth he kept inside over them. He watched as she calculated their change, handing over the rest of the bills, and nodded at them both.

"Do you sell quilts as well?" Viktor asked. "I quite like your clay, as you can see."

"I only do commission work," she told him. "My address is on my card. I run a shared shop with a few other creators. You can stop by any time and place an order for a design. Takes me two weeks to a month."

Jayce pocketed the rest of their money back in his wallet, dropping it in his own bag as he wrapped an arm around Viktor's waist. "We will certainly stop by this week. We're needing a new quilt for the winter. Do you do any design?"

"I try!" She said. "I've done dragons, chevron patterns, swirls, suns and moons, you name it! If I can find the fabric, I can do it!"

"That is wonderful." Viktor stepped aside with Jayce, allowing more people under the tent and into the booth. "We cannot wait. Thank you again!"

"You're welcome!" She waved, as he and Jayce walked down the path again. Jayce leaned into him, smiling, and rubbed his back up and down as they passed multiple soap and candle booths. That was Jayce's no for today-they had three baskets full and did not need any more.

"What kind of quilt were you thinking?" Jayce asked him. "I kind of want something celestial. Stars, planets, the like."

Viktor hummed in agreement. "It will look nice, I think. Perhaps we can find fabric for her, if she uses outside sources. Maybe real constellations."

"Won't match anything in our bedroom, though."

Viktor nudged him gently in the ribs, grinning when Jayce peered down at him. "We just bought a turtle bowl and elephant tea pot," he said. "Neither of which match the flower plates we have been using or the marble-green tea cups."

"Yeah," Jayce said, lifting his scarred hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. "You're right."