#actually this post is about me buying too many books

[kyouka-supremacy]

Mmmhh...

[colleendoran]

How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

[sykostyles]

subject to change 1.1 (final)

w/c: 6.3k summary: in which Harry gets his head out of his ass and goes after y/n. but is he too late? part one

a/n: hi again! thank you all for the love on part one to this story! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!

cw: PLEASE LOOK HERE BEFORE YOU READ! impact play, breath play if you squint, general rough sex, implied cheating (no actual cheating takes place), breeding kink, creampie, anal play (he puts his thumb in her ass lol), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, besties) general manhandling. If I forgot anything pls let me know!

Harry did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.

He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.

Sometimes Harry swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.

You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.

It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Harry hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Chase? Who was Chase? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.

Oh, a new post.

You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.

Interesting.

Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.

You’d tried to move on from Harry. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Chase, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 

You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Harry had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Harry’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Chase was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 

You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.

“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Chase would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.

Chase broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.

Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 

The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”

About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 

“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.

“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 

Harry studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Cut the crap, Harry. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.

“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 

“I don’t know, Harry,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.

“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”

He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”

Walking into your hotel room with Harry in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.

“What are you actually doing here, Harry,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.

“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.

“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 

You were born at night, but not last night.

“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 

“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.

“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Harry? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”

“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”

“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”

“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.

“No, Harry,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 

“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Chase as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Harry.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.

“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chase.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.

“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Chase’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Harry sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.

“Harry, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 

“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.

“H-harry, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“P-please, t-touch me.”

“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Harry presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.

“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.

Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.

“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Harry chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.

You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.

“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Harry grins down at you.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not you,” you whisper. Knowing that Chase isn’t your boyfriend anymore.

“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Does Chase take care of you like I did?”

“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He won’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.

He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Harry would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.

“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 

“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 

“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 

You nod. 

“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.

You smile. 

Big.

“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.

“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Harry for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 

You nod frantically in his hold. “H-Harry please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.

“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”

“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.

“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 

He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Harry? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.

“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.

“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.

“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 

You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Harry slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 

“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.

“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.

“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 

“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.

“Fuck my throat, Harry,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.

“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 

“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 

“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Harry spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 

“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.

“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Harry,” you plead with him.

“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Harry’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.

“Y-yes, Harry,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Harry settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.

“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 

“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”

Harry dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck, Harry,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his curls, tugging at the roots. 

“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.

“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 

“T–too much, Harry, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.

“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.

“So fucking good, Harry,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 

“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Harry with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 

“Hgnh, Harry. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Harry knew.

“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Harry begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Harry reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 

But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so go–od.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 

He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 

“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Harry.”

“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”

“G’na cum, Harry,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 

“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.

“H-Harry, please, please please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.

“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 

“F–fuck, Harry,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Harry swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back in one hand.

“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.

“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it?" he chuckles darkly, his free hand landing smack after smack on your ass. "C’mon pretty, give me number five.”

“H-harry, I–I ca-can’t.”

“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 

Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding a hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Harry’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.

“G’na cum again, oh god, Harry. G’na cum!”

“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Harry’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Harry was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.

“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.

“I-inside. Fill me up, Harry,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.

“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that? Hm?” 

“F-Fuck, yes, Harry. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Harry. So good, baby. So good.”

“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”

The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The way your face reddened every time he kissed your cheek goodbye. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.

He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.

“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.

“If I believe in love.”

“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.

“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 

There is none.

“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.

“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.

c/n: weeeeell. what do we think? 🙈 I know it says final up there but I think I may do a check in or two for our pair here. We shall see!! Thank you for coming along this journey with them! I hope you enjoyed!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[uyuforu]

Astrology Observation: Synastry & Composite with In-Laws pt.1

This post will be about Synastry and Composite observations with in-laws. It is only observations, and are not observed on many charts so take it just as a study. I'll make more in the future when I have more details and placements to study. This is also not something I have seen yet, so this is really a theory right now. Take everything you see lightly! In this observation post, I also include brothers and sisters in laws when I talk about In-Laws! Pretty much the family of your spouse. When looking at the Synastry, we look at what the two individuals feel for each other. While Composite is for looking at how their relationship is.

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ How to know when you will get married?

જ⁀➴ How to make a solar return synastry

જ⁀➴ Boda in Signs, Houses, Degrees

જ⁀➴ Boda Aspects

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*IL= In-Laws

𝜗𝜚 Synastry

₊˚⊹♡ Since In-Laws are ruled by the 9H, most of the times you will have 9H synastry with them. Your planets could often fall in your In-Laws' 9H.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Saturn in your 1H could mean they will have hard time to see you, they could hear a lot about you but it will take time to meet you. In any way, it could mean there are obstacles in the way for you two to meet? It can also that they refuse to meet you, or you can't meet them for a while, or perhaps you don't want to meet them? You are not meeting them fast, that's all!

₊˚⊹♡ Your Saturn in your IL's 9H could mean there is distance between you two (physically) and you can't meet them because you live far away from each other. There could also be language barrier between you.

₊˚⊹♡ If your Saturn falls in your IL's 4H, you could struggle to see them or meet them often. You don't get to see them often.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Ceres in your 3H could mean they feel like they can share a lot with you, they feel like you will understand how they feel. Your IL will also encourage you in your intellectual pursuits and your hobbies too. This is a good communication sign between you two.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Ceres falling in your IL's 11H could mean could mean you see your IL as a friend, someone you like to spend time with, and actually enjoy having conversations with them. You could also like to hangout with them even without your spouse.

₊˚⊹♡ If your IL's placements fall in your 7H, they see you as someone they have a "contract with", meaning they are close to you because you are a IL to them, and they see you this way. By being married to you, your IL also see this as being married to you, meaning they don't really have a choice. Some placements falling in your 7H could mean they don't really like you, 7H is also about enemies!

₊˚⊹♡ IL's Sun in your 5H means they see you as one of their child, they will take you as their real son/ daughter than just an IL. You can have a more close relationship with them than just IL. It's a very good placement tbh.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Sun in your 4H means they actually see you as a family member and accept you.

₊˚⊹♡ IL's Sun conjunct your Union asteroid could mean they like you since the day they meet you. It also means you will "travel" to see them (doesn't mean a long travel, it means you will move yourself to them than the other way around).

₊˚⊹♡ Your Sun in your IL's 6H means you will see them as someone who help you, and you will heal some trauma or some fears you have through them.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Sun in your 6H is reversed, your IL could heal some traumas or fear through or with you.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Moon in your 12H means they can understand you in another level, they can read you even when you don't say anything. If you like them, it's great, meaning you have a good relationship. If you don't, well good luck!

₊˚⊹♡ Your Moon in your IL's 10H could mean you could admire your IL very much.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Moon in your IL's 8H could be similar to the 12H synastry, but it could also mean there could be toxic vibes. You could also feel uncomfortable with your IL, there could be conflicts.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Moon in your IL's 5H (or their Moon in your 5H) could be like a siblings kind of relationship, it could be cheeky and fun too.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Mercury in your IL's 9H could mean you don't talk the same language as them and may learn a new language to talk to them. It could also mean you like to learn a lot from your IL and see them as someone you can learn from.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Mercury in your 5H means they could like to joke around with you and they may talk to you very familiar way, you could joke around with them a lot.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Mercury in your IL's 7H could mean you could talk to them in a respectful way. It's also a nice way, not cold.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Mercury in your IL's 4H means you could talk to them in their native language (if you are a foreigner to them). The conversation could be very comfortable and heartwarming too, you may feel comfortable talking to them.

₊˚⊹♡ Same thing if your IL's Mercury fall in your 4H but they could talk to you in your native language if you are a foreigner instead of you.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury conjunct Mars in this Synastry could mean the conversations are passionate, alive, and not forced, pretty natural. You both could want to talk to each other, but be careful to fights or disagreements.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Venus in your IL's 9H could mean you like the fact they are different from you. If you are a foreigner to them, you may actually enjoy that there is a cultural difference. You could also feel like it's the first time you love your IL so much. The feeling could be reciprocated.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Venus in your 6H could mean they want to take care of you, they could want to give you gift based on what you like (because they listen to you) but also based on what you need, what is best for you in their opinion. They could like to help you and to give you advice. They will care for you.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Venus in your 5H means they really enjoy spending time with you, they could laugh a lot with you and they just are happy to know they can spend time with you.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Venus in your IL's 4H could mean you take care of your IL and you treat them are your real family.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus conjunct Uranus in this Synastry could mean the love and attention the individuals feel are very transformative, they both (or one of them) feel like it's nothing they felt before. For example, my FS and my little brother have that aspect. And my FS is an only child and my little brother is the only boy. So they both could feel like they have the brother they never had.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus conjunct Vertex in this Synastry could mean the love and attention one receive is truly changed by the other one, it could be new or something they never experienced before too. It could also be a major turn for both of them.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars conjunct Ceres could mean Mars person feel responsible for Ceres person and want to appear strong to the Ceres person, they want them to feel impressed.

₊˚⊹♡ My dad's Mars conjunct my FS's Boda also and it could mean my dad will probably be invested in our wedding lol (could he pay...? perhaps?)

₊˚⊹♡ Your Mars conjunct your IL's North Node could mean you will help them in their life purpose!

₊˚⊹♡ Your Mars in your IL's 8H could mean this can be explosive sometimes, you could stand up to them if they get mad, and it can lead to arguments. But you can also help them with that, because you are not scared of them. You stand up for yourself.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Mars in your 10H mean they can admire you a lot and admire how you work, stand for yourself, your confidence, etc. They think you are strong.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Jupiter in your 7H could mean they feel lucky they are bond to you because of the marriage you had with their relative.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Jupiter in your IL's 5H means you feel lucky to be able to have such a close bond with them, you always have fun with them.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's IC falling in your 5H could mean they see you as their child (if they are your mother/father in law). And brother sister if it's another relative.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IC conjuncting your IL's Ceres means you will feel like they protect you and care for you like their own family.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Jupiter in your IL's 3H could mean you have good conversation and you could joke around a lot.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Jupiter in your 9H could mean they could want to see you in your country if you are a foreigner or they will want to travel with you.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Jupiter conjunct your MC could mean they will probably think you are doing a good job and admire you for that, they could also be interested in working with you.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Uranus in your 5H could mean you are the child they never had, or sibling they never had.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Chiron in your IL's 1H could mean they remind you of a trauma you had, you could have hard time with them because they will trigger you somehow. You will also heal those with them probably.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Chiron in your IL's 3H could mean there could mean miscommunication problems between you two.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Chiron in your IL's MC could mean you will help your IL to be more confident and to lead more in life. You will be like a mentor to them.

₊˚⊹♡ Chiron in the others 8H or 12H could be complicated, you could also trigger each other, sometimes it can be a sign of not liking each other. If other aspects are good, then it means you will heal traumas together.

₊˚⊹♡ Neptune in the other's 7H could mean you have the illusion the person has good manners and are very into being appreciated. It could mean you can have a bad view thinking the person is not really like that and just pretending to be this way to be liked. Neptune person feel like that about 7H person between. On the other hand, Neptune person could feel like they are actually quite a charming person. On the bad hand, they could think they are fake.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Neptune in your IL's 5H could mean you think your IL is childish and prefer to have fun rather to take their responsibilities. If Uranus is there too, you could actually confront them about it one day.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Neptune in your 10H could mean they could admire you for your work but they could also not exactly know what you do for living. They could also have a certain view on you that is not true, so they could be mistaken about your reputation.

₊˚⊹♡ Your Neptune in your IL's 3H could mean you don't understand when they speak most of the time, or you could lie to them often.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's Neptune conjunct your Mars could mean your IL could be easily influenced by you and your opinion. If it is in your 10H, they could really admire you.

First Impressions

₊˚⊹♡ Your 1H in your IL's 11H means you will see them as outgoing, chill, cool and very nice. You will think they are the kind of IL who act in a very unbothered way, and you could also think they have an unconventional way to act with you. For example, if you come from a family who are very high on respect forms, your IL could shock you because they will talk to you in a familiar way directly.

₊˚⊹♡ Your 1H in your IL's 10H means you will see them as cold, distant, quite respectable and sometimes scary. They could want you to think they are this way. This can happen more if it is the Father IL.

₊˚⊹♡ Your 1H in your IL's 7H mans you will see them as respectable, nice, charming, outgoing, and you will like to spend time with them. You will think you spend time because of your obligation as an IL. You can think they dress well too.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's 1H in your 2H means they see you as someone who has money, who is respectable and who is someone quite patient, nice and well put together. They can think you are good looking too.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's 1H in your 4H could mean they see you as a family member already, someone they want to take care of.

₊˚⊹♡ Your IL's 1H in your 6H means they will see you as someone stable, hardworking and someone who takes care of themselves and someone who is healthy. They could admire you too, and they could want to help you a lot too.

𝜗𝜚 Composite

₊˚⊹♡ Sun in Sagittarius could mean you have a cheeky and fun relationship. You could travel with your IL a lot or you could want to, you could also help each other learning languages. One can admire the other and one can teach a lot to the other. You could consider each other friends.

₊˚⊹♡ Sun in 6H could mean there are some distance between you two and respect. You care about the other and help each other a lot, you may also give each other advices. You could really be each other's motivation. There are still some kind of distance there, meaning that despite you can have a good relationship, perhaps your IL will still want you to be respectful.

₊˚⊹♡ Sun in Scorpio could mean you are not that close, and you don't speak much. You can have some small talk, and you can sometimes have an actual conversation on things that matter much. But rare I guess?

₊˚⊹♡ Sun in 5H is a sign you enjoy each other's company, you can really like talking to each other when you do, and your IL could consider you as a son/ daughter or a brother/sister.

₊˚⊹♡ Sun in Capricorn could mean one of you really respect the other and look up to them a lot.

₊˚⊹♡ Sun in 11H could mean you can think of each other as friends and sometimes siblings depending who is your IL to you. It's a very nice relationship as you two could play often games and video games together and talk about a lot of things. You could also follow each other on social medias too.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon in 11H means you can express your emotions together freely without having the feeling of being judged, you can also feel like you can talk about anything together. You can feel free and very outgoing with them too. It's a true friendship potential here.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon in Aries could mean you have a way to tease each other a lot and you could also have a lot of inside jokes. You could also get in some fights or arguments sometimes since you express your emotions freely and quite spontaneously together.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon in 5H could mean you feel emotionally safe with this person, and you can also like how close it's easy to be with them. They could think you are like a member of the family already. If it is your Mother or Father IL, they could think of you as their son/ daughter, but if it is another like a sibling IL, then they think of you as a bother/ sister.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon in Gemini could mean you joke a lot together, laughing could be often happening. You can like to talk with your IL and you feel like you can express your opinion freely. But you can also gossip together or about each other.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon in 10H could mean you don't hide what you feel towards each other and actually prefer to face each other about your emotions. You enjoy spending time together and respect each other. You could have a desire to work with each other.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury in Sagittarius means you both joke around and have a good communication, you could help each other with languages and also share your life experiences to each other a lot.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury 7H means you have a fair way to communicate towards each other. Your conversations can be quite charming, and you could talk about relationships, contracts, what is fair and right, appearances, romance, but also enemies. You could gossip also.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury in Taurus is a fair way to communicate, you could have a steady communication. Sometimes the conversation can be boring. It can also mean you have a healthy way to communicate towards each other. This can mean you have conversations about money, stability, food, good things in life, shopping, material things, etc.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury in 11H means you can have a friendly way to talk to each other, and mostly you can joke around easily, and perhaps even talk in a familiar way. You can text often with this person of follow each other on social medias. This means a good friendship can happen if you talk to each other quite often.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury Capricorn means you are not good doing daily conversations with your IL but you may both prefer to have debates or conversations that are more intellectual. One of you may also really admire the other, and so there is one teacher and one student in this one.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury 12H means you can understand each other on another level, but it can also mean you don't talk much to each other. You could have difficulties to talk at first and have hard time to understand each other. It can also mean you have conversations that can be very deep and you could also communicate telepathically together if you happen to be very close.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus in Capricorn means you and your IL could buy each other a lot of gifts or things casually, you could always bring something to each other anytime you see each other. You could admire each other a lot or one of you admire the other. You both show a lot of respect for each other.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus in 7H means your IL could feel like they totally adore you, they can be all over you. They will really like spending time with you, and will probably be proud and glad your partner chose you. They will love to see you and will probably will want to spend time with you often.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus in Sagittarius could mean you love to spend time with your IL, and they do too!

₊˚⊹♡ Venus in 6H could be a more cold and distant type of relationship you have with your IL, but deep down they actually care. You may not say it to each other, but you could both try to improve each other's life.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus in 12H could mean you both don't totally express how you feel towards each other. It means that perhaps you and your IL will not hug each other or actually say you appreciate each other. But you could know actually. It can mean you could be shy together lol, or you could be shy with them.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars in Aquarius is a sign of being best friend with your IL.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars in 9H means you could help each other see the bright side of life. There could be a lot of wisdom shared.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars in Pisces means you don't like fighting with each other. There is a lot of support between you two.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars in 1H could mean you help each other with confidence, one of you could help the other more.

₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter in 6H means you could help each other live a healthier life, and you feel like your life improved by knowing each other.

₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter in 9H means you could help each other learn a lot. If you are a foreigner, you both could help each other learning each other's languages. Even if you are, it could also mean expending your mind to new ideas and horizons with this placement. A lot of positive learning and teaching.

₊˚⊹♡ Saturn in 11H means you could have hard time to replace the link you have with your IL. With other bad aspects this could mean you both don't get along well. With good aspects this means you actually have hard time to replace your IL. You have such a close bond with them.

₊˚⊹♡ Saturn in 10H indicates that in order for your IL to trust you, time will be reacquired. It could take time for both of you to become close.

₊˚⊹♡ Saturn in 3H could mean there is a language barrier between you two. Or you could struggle to understand each other sometimes.

₊˚⊹♡ Pluto in 10H means you will both change a lot ever since you met each other.

₊˚⊹♡ 7H Stellium could indicate one of the base of your relationship with your IL is respect but also a lot of fairness. You could love to spend time with your IL and they do to, you both adore each other. You don't see spending time together as an obligation. You could also both want to solve any problems together if one arise, and you could ask for your IL help. They could be a friend to you. You trust them, and they also trust you. I think this is really good with an IL as it is actually a good sign of a good relationship. Your IL could be very happy to have you as their IL.

₊˚⊹♡ 6H Stellium could mean you will heal a lot with your IL. You both could need to either face things or heal trauma, and it is most likely to happen with them. This relationship could be complicated at first since you may feel a bit disturbed with them. Otherwise, you could care a lot about each other. You could like to help each other but also give each other advices. You could still be cold, distant and respectful towards each other, your IL is not your best friend in your head.

₊˚⊹♡ 12H Stellium means one of you idealize the other, and you two could have a close bond. Anything that you say to each other stay as a secret. You both could confide to each other.

₊˚⊹♡ Gemini Rising means most of people around you will see you two having a playful relationship, you can be seen laughing together a lot, joking a lot, but you can also love to debate together. People just see you two talking together a lot.

₊˚⊹♡ Cancer Rising means people could sense there is a strong sense of family between you two. You both could treat each other as a family member, depending on who this is compared to you. For example, my FS has that with my dad, and my FS could see my dad as his other dad, and my dad could see my FS as his other son. People could see you take care of each other and you care about each other. Tho sometimes the relationship could be tense.

₊˚⊹♡ Aquarius Rising here could mean people see you two sharing a good friendship. You could look very different from one another, yet you could get along well. People could also see you talk a lot about technologies or your friendship could be based on similar interest around the topic.

₊˚⊹♡ Aquarius MC could make you and your IL very open to talk and actually liking to discuss about many different topics. You could get along well because you could be both open-minded. This could be a sign you both challenge each other into having a more open mind and actually see realities in different ways.

₊˚⊹♡ Pisces MC could make you both have a complicated relationship, they don't know if you like each other or not. But it could be because you indeed have a complicated relationship with them.

₊˚⊹♡ Scorpio MC could make you both close to each other and you may help each other a lot through rough time. You have a strong bond with your IL and both of you could trust each other a lot.

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[littlejuicebox]

Handmade

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: Nine years post BG3 / You and Astarion are married; you now work as a Counsellor, Astarion handles your business investments. After a lot of hard work, the two of you have established quite a wealthy, wholesome life for yourselves. / If you're looking for more backstory and HCs for this version of AstarionxTav, check out my Highharvestide fics. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / Holiday fluff / Sexual references / Maybe some mild in game spoilers Word Count: Notes: This is 4/5 "Days of Star-mas!"

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "gifts."

Click here to see my master list.

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Gift giving was, without a doubt, Astarion’s love language. He truly adored spoiling you with the most opulent things money could buy. A plethora of rare night blooming plants, ridiculously ornate gowns, a cabinet full of gem-encrusted jewelry, first editions of your favorite books (more than a few signed by the authors)… in truth, you’d been given it all. 

But well before this year’s Midwinter Banquet, just as the summer turned to autumn and the leaves in your back orchard were beginning to drop and kiss the earth, you explicitly told your husband you wanted something handmade this year. Something from the heart.

The vampire groaned at this stipulation. “Darling, I’ve got so many wonderful ideas. I’ve seen some beautiful dresses in the shops that would look wonderful on you. And a pair of earrings that would go beautifully with your eyes; just this morning I was in discussions with a horse breeder about purchasing you your very own riding horse since you seem to abhor the carriage… you just can’t be serious about this, my sweet.” 

“I am.” You’d responded, tone matter-of-fact, arms crossed, brow furrowed as you address your husband, “My love, we have everything. Everything we could possibly want and money to buy anything else we want or need, too. I’ve been given the most luxurious gifts for nine years straight… but I want something from the heart. I want something from my rogue. From the man that used to leave me flowers on my pillow at camp and steal me sweet rolls from the merchants. I know he’s in there, somewhere.” 

You step closer to your husband, peering deeply into his eyes like you’re searching for something lost deep within the pupil. Then you place your ear to Astarion’s chest and bring your hand up to knock on it. “Hellllooo? Rogue Astarion? Can you hear me in there?” 

Your love chuckles at your antics and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly before planting a kiss on the knuckle. “Very well darling, have it your way. How could I say no?” 

You beam, overjoyed to have won this little debate. Then, for the next few months, the two of you sneak off to prepare your individual gifts for one another whenever you have a spare moment.

More than once in those few months, Astarion had rattled the door to your bedroom, threatening to pick the lock if you didn’t let him in that instant. You’d groan in frustration every time, quickly stow away your gift, and then rip open the door to roll your eyes at the pale elf. 

“It’s only been a few hours, Astarion. You interrupted me right when I was actually getting somewhere, do you know that?” You’d scolded, more than once. 

“Darling, it’s been several hours, not just a few. Why is it not possible for you work on your gift somewhere else? I need use of this room, too, you know. Unless this is somehow your way of telling me you’d like to sleep in separate rooms from now on, my sweet?” He’d challenged more than once, quirking his white eyebrow at you with a rakish smirk. Then he'd sweep into the room with a brief kiss to your temple and ready himself for bed or a bath.

“If I could work on it elsewhere, I would! But I can’t. You’ll see why.” You would always huff in response, wrinkling your nose impatiently at your husband. “And don’t pretend you’d be able to sleep a wink if you were made to lay in the guest chambers, Lord Ancunin. Don’t tempt me with any ideas.”

Astarion would sigh and dramatically roll his eyes at you, but continue to oblige your long stints alone in the bedchamber, nonetheless. He never mentioned that he only ever interrupted you when you exceeded more than six hours holed up in the bedchamber alone; even a vampire had to bathe and sleep at some point, after all. 

As for Astarion? He was regularly in the middle of meetings or reviewing contracts when you were working on your project, so his time had been allocated a bit differently. He would often prepare his gift while you slept… you’d always needed more sleep than he did. The vampire would slip out of bed and down into the parlor, where he would spend a few hours curled up in the sofa at work before cozying back up to you before you woke. 

Soon enough, it was time for the Midwinter Banquet. It was the Ancunin’s turn to host a dinner party; the Ravengards had just done Highharvestide, the Dekarioses had hosted Midwinter the year prior, and Lae’zel and Shadowheart lived a rather nomadic lifestyle that didn’t allow hosting parties. Technically, it should have been Karlach and Dammon’s first year to host, but as they were fresh newlyweds that had barely purchased a property that same month, you’d kindly offered them a pass.

As was typical for an Ancunin dinner party, the dining hall had been completely decked out by the staff. No surface was left untouched from the beautiful combination of candles, pine trimmings, and bunting you’d roped a reluctant Astarion into helping you string. You were quite proud of the bunting, which was handmade with dried oranges, cranberries, and touches of greenery. 

You were, as always, meandering about the dining room, far too fixated on the most minute details of the table settings. Astarion made his way over to you, as he did every time you hosted a party, to force you from your nervous habit of hyperfixation.

This year you were saddened to immediately notice the absence of Scratch as your husband entered the large wooden doors of the dining hall; the dog had passed that summer. Astarion, out of habit, flexed his fingers downward to make contact with the dog’s scruff, only to drag his fingers through the empty air. You’d seen this maneuver from your husband more than once, and as you watched him enter the dining hall, you made a mental note to find another furry companion soon. He’d never admit he was taking the loss quite hard. 

“Darling, it’s time for you to dress. And, it’s time for us to exchange presents before everyone arrives.” The vampire murmurs, taking your hand and pulling you from the dining hall and into the adjacent parlor, where your presents are sat underneath a tree adorned with baubles and more of that fruit-filled bunting you two spent an entire day crafting. 

You grab the small red and gold package sitting under the pine tree and grin, handing it to your husband. “Here, open mine first.” 

Astarion raises his eyebrow as he examines the package, giving it a little shake as he holds it to his ear. The package doesn’t make a sound, and he hums in idle curiosity as he undoes the red ribbon tied around the gift. You’re practically bouncing with excitement and anticipation as you watch him carefully undo the wrapping. 

“Just tear it!” You exclaim impatiently, and the pale elf chuckles at you and rolls his eyes before obeying your command and tearing the paper off the gift. 

Astarion is speechless as he stares down at the labor of your love. It’s a small painting, roughly the length and width of a book. The painting depicts you and… well, it must be him, cuddled in bed together. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, and your hand is gripping the fingers dangling from that same arm. The two of you are laughing underneath the familiar maroon and gold bedspread always located on your four-poster bed. He’s in awe of the details: the little fangs in his mouth, his scarlet eyes and the glint within them, the pinprick scars on your neck, and the freckles along your arm. 

“Turn it over.” You whisper, watching as the vampire obliges with wet eyes.

On the back you’ve written: “My Favorite Place” in your delicate, flowing script. And as his scarlet eyes read the words, your husband loses his barely held composure, cold lower lip trembling as salty tears fall over his waterline. He tugs you into a crushing hug, placing repeated kisses in your hair, and you’re beaming because for once you’ve rendered the loquacious vampire speechless.

You’re teary eyed as well when you sniffle and pull away from Astarion. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to get it right. It’s taken me years, my love. I even snuck in lessons on my trips further into the city to meet with the other Counsellors or Wyll. But I hope you can see us how I see us, now.” 

Astarion nods slowly before placing the gift down on the end table, still overcome with sentimentality. He gives a soft chuckle as he wipes his own eyes and then yours. “Well, darling… now I’m quite worried my gift will pale in comparison, to be honest.” 

“Nonsense!” You promise, as you sit down on the sofa and hold your hands out expectantly. You’re bearing a child-like grin as you wiggle your fingers, bidding the vampire to continue on.

Astarion is nervous. You can see it in his crimson eyes and the twitching of his hands as he grabs the silvery package and gives it to you. His ears are flushed in that subtle way that only appears when he’s extremely embarrassed or aroused… though in this case, you’re quite sure it’s embarrassed. 

As you’re unwrapping the gift with much less care than your husband had unwrapped his, the elf in the midst of explaining himself away, “Darling if you end up not liking it, I’m more than happy to—“ 

But he’s interrupted by a thrilled gasp and ecstatic squeals as you lift a heavily embroidered blanket out of the plain wrapping box. 

“Astarion, how could I not love this? This is beautiful!” You exclaim, quickly opening the blanket and draping it over the couch to admire your husband’s stitch work, “I knew you were talented, my love… but I am blown away.” 

Astarion is beaming now, his ears completely red with some combination of embarrassment and excitement at your praise. He comes to your side and places a hand on your waist as the other one points to the bottom corner of the blanket before tracing up the width and then down the length in a repeated clockwise motion. 

“It’s… it’s symbolism, my darling. Of our love story.” He explains in a still-nervous whisper. 

You move closer to examine the piece and your eyes pick out bits of embroidered details between the floral filigree; you notice you recognize many of the plants from your own night blooming garden. As you move in the direction Astarion pointed, you note several obvious points of symbolism: a dagger, stars and a campfire, glasses of wine, that familiar forest clearing lit up by the moon, his old hand mirror, Lathander’s Mace (he’d conveniently left out the fallen crèche he’d saved you from), Moonrise Towers, the Warding Bond rings you two now kept in a jewelry box upstairs… on and on and on.

You follow the story all the way to the center, where there is a beautiful design of the sun, moon, and stars. At first, you think this is in reference to his proposal, but then you realize it would be in the wrong order. You can't quite figure out the meaning.

Your fingers stroke those center celestial stitches, the only pieces done in shimmering gold and silver thread. “And what does this symbolize, my love?” 

Astarion shifts slightly on his feet, fingers still flexing with anxiety. Your brows furrow as you look from the piece to your husband, wondering why he’s still so nervous when you clearly love the gift. He inhales sharply and bends down, putting his hand in the forgotten gift box that you’d all but tossed aside in your excitement. He pulls out a smaller piece of fabric. It's an infant’s blanket. 

You feel your heart stop in your chest as the vampire slowly unfolds the tiny blanket to reveal a beautiful scene of the sun, moon, and stars all done in that same gorgeous, shimmery thread. 

“My love, I… well, I think it might be time that we consider expanding the family. And Gale seems to be making great strides with the Wish Spell preparations and it seems that might be a real possibility soon and—“

You interrupt your husband’s explanation, crashing your warm lips into his cold ones, and he’s knocked off balance, forced to collapse into the sofa by the weight of your body careening into his. When you pull away from him, both of you are grinning like idiots and slightly flushed at the mere thought of such an impossible possibility. You simply give the vampire a little nod, and then break into delighted laughter, soon joined by him. 

Your husband kisses you softly, and then leans towards your ear, voice dropping into that devilish murmur. “How much time do we have before the party, darling? Perhaps we’ll do a test round before we dress. I would like the two of us to be well practiced when the time comes.” 

You smirk at the vampire when he pulls away from you, his face wearing that irresistible cocked eyebrow and a glimmer of playfulness in his scarlet eyes. You press a finger to your lips and feign humming as if in thought. “I think we might have time for one practice round… if you can catch me, that is.” 

“Why you little—” 

You don’t hear the rest of Astarion’s scolding, but you feel his fingers narrowly miss the curve of your hip as he tries and fails to grasp you. You’re off like a bow shot from an arrow, speeding out of the parlor and down the hall toward your bedchamber, swerving around the poor maid with a shouted apology. You’re grinning as you run down the hallway, thinking that for once you won this little game you liked to play with your love. But then Astarion is snapping his arms around your waist just as your hand reaches for the bedroom doorknob, and you’re laughing boisterously as the two of you crash into the bedroom and onto the bed. 

It isn’t until the maid is knocking on the door roughly thirty minutes later, announcing the arrival of the ever-timely Duke Ravengard, that the two of you hurriedly dress and rush out to greet your guests. Your friends would have been none the wiser, too, if it hadn’t been for the little love bites slowly blooming across your chest throughout dinner. Astarion brimmed with hedonistic delight, and perhaps a bit of subtle pride, as everyone slowly realized what you two had been doing moments before the party and tried with all their might to politely avert their eyes.

Sure, you two had been a bit naughty just before everyone arrived… but hells, if it hadn’t been exceptionally nice.  

[thatgirlchallenge]

Financial Health

I've been reading a lot of books and watching a lot of videos about financial health, and how the system is set up to keep you " poor".

It's extremely interesting, and I didn't realize how much of a victim I was of this system. Like, sometimes, I am thinking of buying a certain very expensive bag to " reward" myself, or expensive skincare ( by the way, I'll make a post about this. A very interesting one, I think).

But genuinely, are those expensive things an actual reward ? Like is there a need to buy these stuff, instead of investing in your financial health...?

Too many trends, too many supposed high brands that target lower and middle classes as a PART of their maketing strategy, and too many influencers, completely out of touch, recommanding products that we don't need.

This very finely curated system is meant to keep you poor.

Right now, I am in a phase wherein I am realizing how much money I've wasted and how that money could have gone to useful or memorable things ( education, investing, travels). This realization part is the most important part of the journey.

Trust me, it's never too late to realize this, and correct the trajectory of your life.

Being an it girl is not about the expensive stuff you own, it's about the mindset. It's about how you carefully invest in yourself.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // twenty-one

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: oh- you guys wanted them to be happy and in love in peace?? my bad. anyway, good a time as any to wish you guys a happy valentines day! lol

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Where are ya takin' those?" Lennox asks you as you're quickly scanning through your piles of books, pulling out one or two at a time and holding onto them.

"I will bring them to Coryo and Sejanus." You smile to yourself, standing up straight as you finish picking out most of your favourites.

"Coryo." Lennox scrunches his nose up. "Why bother? They can't read that many books in a week. Especially when he'll hardly get his hands off you long enough to do literally anything else."

"Oh, Lennox hush. That is not true." You shake your head pointedly, cheeks burning red.

"It is true."

You had kind of explained to Lennox what happened, that Coryo explained, apologized, and that you were wrong about him. Your mother was right, of course, but Lennox still wasn't buying any of it. Although, he wouldn't deny that you seemed happier.

"Ma!" You call out, coming out of your bedroom with the stack of books in your arms. Trying to talk to Lennox about this would never end in him actually listening to you.

"Just out back, honey!"

You follow her voice out onto the back porch. "Ma, do you know if there's a limit of things you can take on the train?"

She looks up at the question, laughing at the stack of books you have steadied under your chin.

"It's not a passenger train, honey. I don't know." She chuckles. "You want to give him all of those? Won't you miss them?"

"Well..." You think about it, placing them down on the ground to rest your arms for a moment. "I don't know when I'll see him again, and books are expensive to post. Besides, I know they'll be in safe hands, and if I want to read them again I can take them from the library."

Your mom smiles sadly at you. "I suppose that's true."

"Yes." You grin, crouching down to pick the books up again carefully. "I shall go drop these off."

"When will you be back?" She asks, just as you're about to walk back inside.

"Uh, I'm uncertain, but I shouldn't be long! We don't have any plans."

"Maybe you should take your brother with you, he can carry those." She suggests and you sigh.

"No, Ma. He's mean." You pout.

"He only wants to keep you safe. Take him with you, please. He'll be driven mad here waiting for you to get back." She insists and you groan, dropping your head back. "I won't ask again, I promise."

"Okay, Ma." You relent, stepping back into the house and letting the door swing shut behind you. "Len! Ma says you're coming with me!"

"So... how do you know where they are staying?" Lennox asks you, half the books in his arms as you practically skip ahead of him.

"Coryo showed me the other day."

"Oh, he did. Of course he did." You can practically see him rolling his eyes behind your back. "Have you ever considered that he could just be using you? I mean-"

"Lennox, that's not a rational thought process. I have nothing that he would want, he already won his prize." You interrupt. "He just came here to spend time with me, we talked about that when I was in the Capitol."

"I can think of something he wants..."

"Lennox!" You turn on your heel, pointing a finger in his face so fast he almost stumbles as he stops. "That is enough. You have so little trust in me!"

"It's not like we haven't been down this road before!" He argues, and you quickly look around as he raises his voice. The path is deserted this time of day.

"And you don't think me capable of learning?"

"Clearly not! Him and Cole are practically the same person!"

"Don't you say that- I didn't like Cole and you know it." You narrow your eyes at him. "Coryo is different. He wouldn't hurt me."

"You do realize that those are like, the famous last words that every teenage girl ever has said and regretted it, right?"

"Do you just not want me to be happy?" You ask bitterly. That wasn't true and you knew it, but you were upset and you knew it would get your point across. He was being cruel.

"The opposite, actually! I just want you to think realistically about fallin' into the open arms of your 'knight in shining armour' who you've literally had nightmares about for weeks on end."

"I am not a child! I am an adult, and I am capable of making my own decisions." You spit. "He's not using me. He loves me, and I love him."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll say that until-"

"Lennox you are such a.. boy!" You groan. "If you must know, if you must insist that I am so stupid, no, I have not slept with him. Is that what you needed so desperately to hear?"

"Gross." He mumbles, shaking his head with disgust. "I don't care what you do with your alone time, actually I'd really rather not know! All I'm saying is you need to be more careful."

"I'm not going to fight with you. You can trust my decisions or not." You grumble, turning back around to keep walking. He follows behind you silently, neither of you saying another word the whole walk there.

You knock on the door, taking a step back while you wait for it to open. You can hear your brother breathing behind you and it's driving you up the wall. You would drop off the books and send him home- maybe you would stay for a while, go for a walk, something.

The door creaks open and you smile when you see Sejanus. "Y/N!" He grins, opening the door wider for you to come in. "Coryo! Your girlfriend is here!" You blush at the term as you walk in past him.

You hadn't discussed any kind of title to what you had, the looming ache of him leaving again so soon holding you back from wanting to mention it. You assumed he didn't want to discuss it either, both of you silently agreeing just to enjoy the time you still had together.

"Y/N/N." Coryo grins, eyes lighting up as he enters the room.

"Hi." You smile, ignoring your brother pretending to gag behind you.

"What brings you?" Coryo asks. "I didn't expect to see you today, I was thinking of coming to see you myself."

"Yes, well, I went through my books and brought some over that I would like you to take." You look back over your shoulder as Lennox is placing the large pile of books on the dining table.

Coryo hums as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. "That's a lot of books." He chuckles.

"You don't have to rush through them, keep them as long as you'd like." You assure him. "I just thought they were some you may enjoy."

"I'm sure I'll love them." He kisses the top of your head. "Thank you."

You turn in his arms to look up at him, ticking your head slightly when you hear Sejanus speak quietly. Clearly, not to either of you. "Hey, I just want to show you something. Come outside with me?" And then the door is shut, and you and Coryo are left alone.

"What's he showing him?" You ask, and Coryo watches through the window as his friend and your brother circle around to the side of the house.

"I am not sure." He answers. Immediately, he's thinking of the note Sejanus had scribbled out for himself. It included your brother's name alongside the dates and times, and those dates were creeping up quickly, the seventeenth being in three days- if he had today's date correct.

"Coryo?"

"Hm?" He looks down at you again. "You were thinkin' for a minute there. What's wrong?"

You were always so concerned. All he had done was take a moment to think, and you seemed genuinely worried. Maybe there was something in his face that showcased his confusion. "Nothing, love." He assures you, but you don't seem inclined to believe it. "Okay, uh, just... Come with me." He grabs your hand, watching out the window to make sure they aren't coming back yet as he leads you to his room.

You step into the small space and smile. He wasn't here for long, but the room already had little touches of him. The bed was made, and there was nothing on the walls but the bedside table had the copy of Romeo and Juliet he had got for you, a folded-up note, and a comb for his hair he had yet to put back in his bag despite him not needing it anymore.

You turn to face him after he shuts the door, smiling. He almost looked normal here, now. Like he was getting used to being here with you, living your life. It certainly wasn't like what he left behind in the Capitol, but to you it was special.

"Y/N, I have something to tell you." Coryo says, serious with a lowered voice. He didn't want anyone to hear it, even though you were still likely alone in the home.

"Okay." You reply, feeling your brow crease as you nod at him. His tone makes you nervous- your heart skips a beat in your chest. For a moment, you feel trapped. Tell him what you need. He won't mind.

"Can you... can you move away from the door, please?" You ask quietly before he has the chance to speak again.

He nods, not wasting a second before passing you and you turn with him, now with the door to your own back. "Is that better? You okay?" He asks and you nod.

"Fine just fine." You smile, trying to be reassuring. "What were you going to tell me?"

"Right, so..." You watch as he runs a hand over his head, still in the habit of pushing back his hair. "I was in Sejanus's room the other day, and I found this note. It had two dates and places on it, and then your brother's name and that was it."

"Oh." That's the only thing you can think of to say. "Well... do you remember the places? Maybe he was just trying to remember Len's name?"

"I don't know, I was hoping you'd know more." Coryo sighs, reaching for the bedside drawer. He had written down what he remembered from the dates and times, because he did want to ask you about it. "But he's been leaving and coming back at odd hours, he won't tell me what he's doing. Is he with Lucy Gray?"

"I don't think so." You frown, shaking your head. "But they have been getting close."

"But that doesn't really feel relevant to the note, or your brother."

"No... It certainly doesn't seem that way."

"Here, so... I wrote it down. Uh... The Hob, August seventeenth at ten pm, and broken fence August eighteenth at four am." He reads off what he remembered enough from the note to write down.

You tilt your head.

"Does that mean anything to you?"

"Well, on the seventeenth The Covey is performing at the Hob, so maybe he planned on going to that." You explain. "But broken fence... there's so many of those around here I couldn't tell you. Although, four am is an incredibly odd time to be meeting anyone."

"That's three hours before our train leaves."

"Oh." You shake your head slightly. "That's very weird."

"I know." Coryo sighs. "He won't tell me either, I've asked if he has any plans that night and he said no."

"Well... We should go." You offer. "Tell him that we're going to the meadow that night, and we'll just go after him. See who he's with."

Coryo raises his eyebrows at you. "I didn't take you for the nosy type."

"Well, I'm a big sister at heart and if it possibly involves Lennox I have to know." You argue. "It could be dangerous. He's always had a few friends I didn't love."

"Are you okay to go back there? I can go without you." He offers.

"I'll be fine." You insist. It's more so out of necessity, you have no choice but to be fine. You have to know- you have to make sure your brother and friend are safe.

"Are you sure about this?" Coryo asks, stopping you outside the entrance to the Hob. "If you want to go home I can take you, I just want you to feel safe."

"I know." You give him a small, reassuring smile as you squeeze his hand. "If I need to leave I'll tell you. I promise."

He nods, taking one last look at you to make sure you still seem okay before he pushes the door open and you both head in.

The building is buzzing- as it usually is when The Covey performs. You smile at the music, letting Coryo pull you close to the side wall as he scans the crowded room for his friend.

"Do you see him?" You ask, and he somehow hears you over the music and shakes his head.

You frown, looking around as well. No sign of Sejanus, no sign of Lennox. Lennox isn't even old enough to be here, but he wasn't at home when you left- and it's not exactly hard to sneak in.

"There," Coryo says, nodding in the direction of the opposite side of the room. You follow his eyes, and spot Sejanus talking to someone you recognize. "Who's he with?"

"Spruce." You explain. "His sister is scheduled to be executed tomorrow afternoon." You add, leaning closer so no one else will hear.

You watch as they head toward the back hall, the same one you ran down just a couple of weeks ago. "Should we go after them?" You ask when Coryo doesn't reply and he nods, watching them as he pulls you down the outside wall toward them.

You make it back to the hall without Lucy Gray spotting you, as far as you can tell. Standing outside the door, you hear shouting. You watch Coryo as he clenches his jaw, shaking his head.

"Wait out here." He tells you, dropping your hand.

"No- I, I should come." You shake your head and he grabs your cheeks, lifting your head to look into your eyes.

"I don't know what they're fighting about but it doesn't sound good. Wait out here." He's stern as he gently brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. "Listen to Lucy Gray, just watch the door. Okay, love?"

"Okay." You agree quietly, slightly nodding.

He kisses your forehead before letting you go, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and disappearing behind it.

You chew your nails as you wait with your ear to the door, trying to decipher who is inside with them. It's hard to tell with all the shouting going on, but you hadn't heard Lennox.

"Y/N." You hear your name, quickly jumping back from the door and turning to face the voice. "What are you doin' here?"

You chew your cheek, trying to avoid Cole's gaze. "Just waitin' for Lucy Gray." You lie, looking down.

"Ah." He hums, nodding slightly as he steps closer to you. "Where's your purebred Capitol attack dog?"

"What are you doing here, Cole?" You ask, ignoring his question.

"We got leave passes for the weekend." He answers. "Hoff said something about 'boosting morale'."

"That's nice." You smile nervously. "Well, I don't want to keep you, so..."

"You aren't." He smirks, tilting his head as he looks down at you. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, you know that, right?"

"I know." You say softly.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Cole..." You sigh, looking down again. "We talked about this I just... We're too different. I'm sorry."

"Oh, because you have so much more in common with that prick- right?" He laughs sarcastically. "He's Capitol! He'll never know you like I do. Honestly, I'm offended that you'd choose him over me."

"I'm not choosing him over you." You frown. "I already knew we wouldn't work before I ever met him. This is very, very different. I'm sorry."

"You are? Oh, I'm glad to hear that." He nods and you eye him suspiciously. "Maybe then after he leaves, you'll give me another chance. He's taking the next train, tomorrow morning, right?"

"I can't do that, Cole." You shake your head.

"That's an awful shame." The evil smile on his face doesn't fade. "I'll have no choice but to report your father."

Your heart drops. "My Pa hasn't done anything."

He sucks in through his teeth. "Well, suspicion is enough to charge, and I don't know... I get a bit of an off feeling from him. It's actually my duty to report any suspicions we have, so honestly I've been protecting you, and I'd like to keep doing that, you know?"

You finally picked up on what he was saying, and immediately could taste the bitterness of fear on your tongue, a metallic tang that seemed to linger in the air.

"So? Do we have a date?"

"Sure." You mutter through gritted teeth.

"Sweet, thanks for finally coming to your senses, bug." Cole smiles, patting your shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon!" He calls back as he walks away.

You don't even care what's going on inside, you can't be alone in this dark hallway anymore.

You pull the door open and rush in, but you're quickly stopped by Coryo's arm as he takes a few steps back, pushing you behind him. "What- what's-"

"She can't be in here!" Spruce spits at Coryo as you look past him, gasping at the sight of several guns on the table and the one in his arms.

"Listen, she's not involved." Sejanus promises.

"Her brother is gonna help us, it's cool. She won't tell." You look at Billy Taupe when he speaks, eyes wide.

"No- this is crazy." Mayfair shakes her head. "She's not coming with us. We're not bringing her or Lucy Gray. I'm leaving."

"No, they aren't coming. I just said I'd ask. Now she knows, so she probably should." Billy Taupe replies and your eyes flick between the couple. You had no idea what was going on, where he wanted you to go, and what this had to do with Sejanus or your brother.

"No! My daddy will have you all strung up for this." She throws her hands up and starts to walk toward the back door. Your heart is pounding in your chest as Coryo reaches for one of the guns.

"Don't!" You cry out, forcing yourself in front of him just as he aims the gun at her. At you.

"Y/N, you gotta move right now." He says quickly, and you hear her footsteps stop behind you.

You can only look at his eyes as they flit between anger, instinct, and fear.

"Coryo." You say, voice cracking and it's only then that you feel the tears dampening your cheeks.

The barrel of the gun is under an inch from your chest, and you can see his hands shaking as he holds the heavy weapon in his hands. He won't shoot you- he won't.

The world around you seems to blur as your focus narrows on the overwhelming sense of fear gripping you tightly. Right now, if someone asked where you were, you wouldn't know. You just as easily could have been standing in the arena. 

He doesn't dare move as he stares at you, eyes wide. He doesn't want to hurt you, but that's why he has to do this. He can't let whoever that girl was have you killed. Still, you stand in front of him. Shaking, but not moving. This was the girl he knew from the games who offered a rose to Coral who in the moments before was threatening her. The girl who so thoroughly hated the idea of bringing harm to others that her own mind blocked it out completely and replaced the story with something else. This was the girl who was willing to give up her life just to be able to give the other tributes an honourable burial that she knew they wouldn't otherwise receive. 

The girl who saw him kill another boy and despite all of that, still had it in her heart to forgive him.

You don't even hear Mayfair laugh and begin to walk away again, you only hear the gunshot that follows. You jump, immediately looking down to assess the damage. Coryo wasn't pointing the gun at you anymore, he had dropped his arms in defeat- and you had mistaken the loud noise for an impact you were expecting.

He didn't shoot you.

"What did you do?" You turn as Billy Taupe screams, eyes widening as you see Mayfair bleeding out on the floor.

"Oh god- oh god..." You mumble, stepping back until you bump into Coryo. He drops the gun back onto the table, pulling you into his arms.

"Don't look, don't look..." He tells you, turning you and pressing your head to his chest so you can't see anymore even if you wanted to.

You can't even make out what Spruce and Billy Taupe are yelling at each other over the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. Until the second gunshot.

You must be sobbing now, clinging onto the front of Coryo's shirt so tight your knuckles are burning. "You're okay, it's okay." He tells you. You don't know what's going on- you don't want to.

Coryo stares between Spruce and the body of Billy Taupe now slumped down next to Mayfair. He needs to get you out of here, now, but he doesn't know how. This has to be handled first.

He's letting you go only to grab your cheeks and get you to look at him. "Go back outside, you have to go back outside, I will handle this."

You can't even speak- can't even move. You try and shake your head. You couldn't leave him, not right now. You feel like you'd die the moment he ceased touching you.

The door slides open again, followed by an angry voice you know too well. "What the fuck?" Cole must have been watching you. He must have heard.

"No..." You cry, shaking your head. If Cole saw this you were absolutely all screwed.

"What the fuck did you do?" Cole shouts again. "Nobody fucking move! You're all-"

Another gunshot. Silence.

"Oh no, no, no..." You try and look behind Coryo but he doesn't let you, holding your head firmly into his chest again.

"It's okay. Don't look." He says again, staring at Sejanus who looks like he's panicking just as much as you are now.

"Why'd you tell them where we were? Now you've gone and screwed us all over! I just shot a peacekeeper!"

"He didn't tell anyone." Coryo defends him. "We followed him, Cole followed us."

"Fuck." Spruce sighs, throwing the gun onto the pile of others still laid across the table. "We gotta bump this up. We have to get Lil now, go tell Lennox to get the stuff and hide it for us like we said."

"Get rid of the guns and pretend this never happened."Coryo hisses. "And leave the kid out of this. It's too late for whatever plan you had now- we don't know where he is."

You can't even hear a single thing going on anymore. You're actually sure you might faint.

When you go from shaking to completely still in Coryo's arms, he knows you have. "Shit..." He mumbles, trying to steady you as your knees give out. He quickly readjusts so he can lift you with an arm under your knees and the other under your back.

"I gotta get her out of here and you have to move quick. Get rid of the guns. Now." He instructs, and surprisingly, Spruce listens. He throws the weapons into a bag and steps over the two bodies by the door before leaving.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Sejanus cries, gripping onto his hair and breathing heavily. "No one was supposed to get hurt!"

"Sejanus, for once just shut up!" He grabs his attention from where his friend is staring at the dead couple, clearly losing his mind. Coryo doesn't have time for this- an unconscious girl in his arms and his friend looking like he's about to be in the same state in a matter of moments.

"It's all my fault..."

"All of this is your fault!" Coryo agrees, looking around at the mess of the room. "It's only gonna get worse if you don't pull yourself together."

"Oh, god..."

"If you breathe a word now, all three of us are finished. Just like in the arena. We came here to see her. If we go down, she goes with us." He holds you tighter to his chest as your hair falls over the curve of his arm, your head limp against his skin. "So now we have to go back to the house, gather all our shit, and act like nothing is wrong. We have to board the train tomorrow like nothing is wrong. Do you understand?"

"I- I don't know." Sejanus sniffs.

"Hey." Coryo says, taking a few steps closer. "Look at me. You have to pull it together. I know you wanted to go with them but now they aren't going. We've got to stick together. You won't get in trouble. I won't let anything happen to you, but you have to listen to me." It was obvious that it didn't matter that none of you pulled the trigger- being in the room was enough; especially when a peacekeeper had been murdered. If you were caught, you'd all be executed. "We're brothers, yeah? Brothers. Whatever you've done, I swear I will keep you safe."

"Brothers. Yeah." Sejanus mutters, still obviously in shock.

"Those guns were the only loose ends besides the four of us, so we're gonna be okay as long as we leave tomorrow." He breathes. "Okay? Not a word."

"O-Okay." Sejanus nods slightly, trying to keep his focus on the boy in front of him rather than their unconscious friend in his arms.

Coryo tried to give him a reassuring smile, but inside he was panicking too. They could escape it all on the train tomorrow, but now came the problem of what to do with you.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[greeneyed-thestral]

I MET MICHAEL SHEEN. 16/03/24, National Theatre

So, if you've read my post about booking tickets to see Michael, you know all about my what-ifs. But the day was finally here.

I arrived at the National Theatre, followed all the Nye signs and here's the Olivier Theatre. I made my sister buy me the show's programme, hoping I would be able to get it signed.

I find my seat, I'm not in the centre but the stage still feels very close and you can see everything (amphitheatres are always the best).

Lights out. The audience is in religious silence. Can't believe I'm actually here, this is happening.

[skip this part in smaller font, if you want to avoid spoilers] In the words of Staged, he really loses himself in his roles. First of all, it's great to hear him speak in a Welsh accent.

But then we also see him turning back into a child, and you can totally believe he's young and innocent again. His stutter feels so real, his struggle and sadness too. The entire ensamble is great during the classroom scene, where they all help Nye against their bullying teacher (using those big canes to make him look scary really works). Hearing young Nye confessing that at times he thinks he 'shouldn't exist' because of who he is was a gut punch; Michael's delivery of that whole part is incredible, in that moment he really becomes a little boy that allows himself to feel vulnerable and says something dark to a friend. The way he jumps while saying "I can visualise and enunciate!" made me wanna jump too, he was ready to give up and then he found the solution through books, it's the joy and relief you feel when you realise that there is another way and your life is not over.

Now, I've watched musicals all my life and let me tell you that man is meant to be in one. He opened his mouth and all I could see was someone that had been waiting a long time for the occasion to show his talent, truly showstopping. He was so free and happy and confident, singing and dancing spectacularly. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, we all clapped.

It's clear he means every word he says, and when he points and shouts his political arguments at the audience, those who feel called out must be shaking; I thought 'This is how people in Ancient Greece must have felt everytime they went to the theatre'. His Nye is inspiring, passionate, someone you'd want to follow, he stands up for what he believes in and lets nothing get in his way.

We get to watch him flirt, on all fours, waggling his 'tail'; everytime we think we've seen all he's capable of, he does something like this and surprises us.

But most of all, we see him being scared, first of having to do something, and then of not being able to do enough for all of us. At one point everyone has requests for Nye and I was expecting him to shout "Heal yourselves!" like Jesus in JCS, it totally conveyed what it must have been like to be in his role at the time, overwhelmed with daunting responsibilities.

In general, I appreciated the fact that it wasn't a linear biography, they chose life moments that have universal situations everyone can relate too, like they do in bio-musicals. I loved the staging. The colour palette is so recognisable; the curtains and the beds are used in many different ways so everything is explored at its full potential.

He is on stage basically all the time for more than two hours (sometimes twice a day, can you imagine?). Also barefoot and in his pajamas from start to finish, he looks like a teddy bear you just want to hug and protect.

He bows, looks at Nye's achievements, then leaves the stage.

Standing ovation, applause. I go back to the theatre lobby, I was supposed to wait for my sister, but she's late. Meanwhile, a fan asks me how to get to the Stage Door. I start too fear that I'm going to miss my chance if I keep waiting inside, so I decide to go on my own. After no more than 5 minutes, he's outside with us. Forget Nye, I am living my fever dream. He has just finished his second show of the day and yet he's smiling and listening to each and every one, signing and taking pictures. I know many have said this, but he really is an angel.

My sister arrives, and as soon as I'm sure she has the camera ready, I make my way to him. The two girls next to me who were speaking to him needed a pen and I lent them my sharpie, so I got my chance to look generous in front of him.

And suddently it was my turn. This is as much as my scrambled mind allows me to remember: I tell him I'm Francesca and I'm from Italy, he asks me how long I am going to stay, I confess that I had arrived that morning and just to see him, that I would be leaving already the following morning. I can't even focus while he's signing my programme, I just want to find the right words. I manage to say how I enjoyed seeing his passion, all these different sides of him and how watching him sing and dance has been the highlight of my evening. We take a picture together, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I realise my arm is around the waist of this person I love. I had to thank him again, telling him that he only deserves good things and that we are so lucky to have him. He wishes me a safe trip home, and I melt. I leave and I can't stop trembling. On my way back to the hotel I hold on tight to my signed programme and the sharpie that was in his hands just moments earlier. Only later I will realise that he's also written 'Ciao!', 'love' and 'X', without me asking for it or anything! Seeing him act live was a big gift already, but what followed outside was beyond my dreams. I can't look at the photos without blushing, the way he looks at me in the video and then also strokes my arm for a moment, I mean pinch me now.

The more I think about it, the more I can't believe it happened.

I want to thank everyone that under my first post pushed me and encouraged me to see the pros of doing this, I share this beautiful moment of my life with all of you. <3

[fishnapple]

CRYSTAL READING: What should you cultivate more in yourself ?

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Feedback is much appreciated ❤️

Masterpost

Buy me a drink or book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. Red jasper

I see a pyramid with strong foundation.

You would need to build a shelter in yourself to stay calm amidst a hectic life.

Life may give you lots of hardship, but if you know how to stay rooted in yourself, you can weather any storms coming your way.

To do that, you need to find your authentic ideals, your own aspirations in life, without outside's interference. Like a personal compass. No matter what you do, where you go, that compass can guide you to the right direction.

But to be able to make that compass, you would need to open up to your own self.

I see that some parts of your are hidden in your own eyes. You need to see all of yourself, both light and dark, both strength and weakness, both selfish desires and selfless devotion. A dichotomy within yourself. It is the opposition that keeps you balanced.

2. Citrine

A leaf or a boat, tenderly floating in the stream. If you could let your heart lead your life and follow the natural flow, you will see that life would be so much easier.

You will be able to see that life works in a very cyclical way. Allow yourself to unfold naturally with time. There is no need to rush.

Strangely enough, by doing that, you would appear to the world as a person holding so much inner power.

I could see that with time, you will become so much more at ease with yourself, and that will create a natural confidence.

Going with the flow of life does not mean doing nothing. It means seeing your dream and having the bravery to take concrete but harmonious steps to come closer to that dream. You would need to cultivate a lion's heart, bravely facing your hidden fears, guilts, and confusions hiding in the dark.

3.Pyrite

There is a focus on relationships.

You have an idealistic approach to romance with lots of fantasies and confusion.

That tends to attract the type of people who are aggressive, domineering, and have a big ego. This kind of relationship would bring lots of stress and disappointment to you.

I notice that my tone for this group is more curt and to the point. Maybe that's how some people feel when they are in your energy. Your energy would bring out some shadows in people.

Sometimes, people would actually have some dark impulses toward goodness. Light would bring out shadow. I'm saying this because I see that opposite of the heavy energy people that you attract, you have a gentle and light energy.

What you should cultivate is a sense of boundary and authority for yourself.

Keep the light, but be more detached and see clearly of what you want, how you want to be treated, and how you can feel nourished in a relationship. Maybe not too focused on 1 on 1 relationship, but be more open to being a part of a community. I see that you are meant to be a soul of freedom, not chained by other's egos.

4.Rose quartz

The energy of a mentor, a teacher.

There is something so strong yet very warm and loving about your energy.

You don't need to be actually in the teaching profession to teach. The way you express yourself, the way you live your life, the way you honour your emotions, and let your inner child shine can inspire many people. People want to learn from you.

I think that you don't need to cultivate something particular, but more like noticing things about yourself to be more aware and navigate them more easily. The strongest thing is the voice. The voice of authority. Be the voice of truth that speaks deep into people's hearts. Even sometimes, that would make people uncomfortable.

I see a playful child with a sharp tongue that speaks some acute observations about the world, but nobody feels offended. That is the special power of children. You could still retain some of that power within you.

5.Obsidian

I immediately see the number four and the Jupiter's glyph (♃, when I actually searched the glyph again, it was a little different from the crystal's image, but I couldn't shake the association) Another thing about Jupiter is that the stone for Jupiter landed on the highest position of the chart, stands between two black obsidian stones (one was the one I chose to represent place of focus, one was this group that you chose). So the theme of Jupiter would be where you should put more focus on cultivating. Travelling, religion, and foreign cultures will bring in lots of transformation for you.

Also, if you are more open about your wish and desires, you would manifest them much easier, broadcast to the universe, and let the universe listen to you. If you feel restricted and not comfortable showing your individuality, this is the message for you to show your light to the world more. Many would appreciate that.

6.Flourite

There is a sense of urgency in this group. The universe is sending you a very urgent message.

It is time to build your lasting legacy. There is something you're meant to create for the mass. It could be something to do with words, something verbal, creative writing, or things created by hands. Things that stir the imagination and deep emotions of the audience. Making this work will bring you sudden fortunes and blessings.

Tap into your dreams. You could get lots of inspiration or source materials from the dreams you have while sleeping or even daydreams. Don't ignore the images. When you put your attention to them, the messages will be clearer to you. Translate them into your works with dedication and steadiness and bring them to life.

Love.

[thebibliosphere]

I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.

[merowkittie]

ATSV INCORRECT QOUTES ☆ !!

This includes x reader and character x character (not in a ship way)

Miguel: Do we have any orange juice left?

Hobie: *pours the remaining juice into their cup*

Hobie: Sorry, we’re all out.

☆

You: *sees someone doing something stupid*

You: What an idiot.

You: *realizes it's Miles*

You: Wait, that's MY idiot!

☆

You: Pavitr ... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Pavitr: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned.

You: …

You: I wrote sanitize, Pav.

☆

You: My life is a mess.

Miguel: You relax, go get a beer.

You: I don’t want a beer.

Miguel: Who said it was for you?

☆

Peter B Parker: I've connected the two dots.

Miguel: You didn't connect shit.

Peter B Parker: I've connected them.

☆

*The gang is learning CPR on a test dummy.*

Gwen: So, assessing the situation. Are they breathing?

Hobie: No, Gwendy. They are not breathing. And they have no arms or legs.

Gwen: No, that’s not part of it—

Hobie: Where are they? You know what.. If we come across somebody with no arms or legs do we bother resuscitating them? I mean, what kind of quality of life do we have there?

Miles: I would want to live with no legs.

Hobie: How about no arms? No arms or legs is basically how you exist right now, Miles. You don’t do anything.

Gwen: All right, well, lets get back to it. ‘Cause you’re losing him.

Hobie: *pumps frantically*

Gwen: Okay, too fast. Everyone, we need to pump at a pace of a 100 beats per minute.

Hobie: Okay, that’s uh, hard to keep track. How many is that per hour?

Pavitr: How’s that gonna help you?

Hobie: I will divide and then count to it.

Pavitr: Right.

Gwen: Okay. Well, a good trick is to pump to the tune of ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees. Do you know that song?

Hobie: Yes, yes I do. I love that song. *clears throat, begins to sing* First I was afraid, I was petrified.

☆

Pavitr: I told Hobie to grab snacks for everyone.

Gwen , looking through the options: Why did you grab fruit snacks? Are you five? Who even likes Fruit Snacks?

*Pavitr, Hobie, and Miles raise their hands*

☆

*In a horror movie situation*

Hobie: I've got no service in my phone here.

Pavitr: Shoot, my battery just died.

Gwen : Sorry guys, I just broke my phone with a hammer.

Miles: Guys, my phone is a book.

☆

You, to Gwen : We had a date!

You: *aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book*

☆

Hobie: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

You: I wrote you a poem.

Hobie, already crying: You did?

Smth simple until I post an actual fic <3 im sorry for keeping you guys waiting sm I have terrible time management 😭

[locketsvault]

「 KUNIKIDA WITH A CUDDLY S/O 」

pairing: kunikida doppo x gender neutral reader

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, cuddling headcanon, very fluffy

warnings: none!

request: I know you made a post already so only if you have ideas and feel like writing it can you write moreeee about snuggles with kunikida? 🤭 only if you want to :) it doesn't have to be a lot. maybe specifically with a reader who loves cuddles and physical touch and is always hugging him at work and giving him lots of kisses, and also loves plushes 🤭🤭 (original request found here.) (cuddling headcanon post).

word count: 1k

a/n: upon looking for photos for his header I have realized his eyebrows are almost always furrowed lol my poor stressed man. btw, I love stuffies, so I relate a lot to this request.

Man I hate to say it but, you definitely do not fit his ideal type. You were not what he wrote down in his book of ideals. And he couldn’t have asked for anything better. It took him a bit to warm up to the idea of dating you, but once he realized how much he’d fallen for you, and how well you two pair together, he decided to screw the damn book and officially ask you out.

To be honest, he spoils you rotten. As I said in my cuddling headcanon post, if he’s in a relationship with you it’s serious. In my opinion, you ground him. Your happiness is his happiness. He wants you loved and cared for. So, even if physical affection is not his thing (it’s not) he’ll do it for you, he’d do anything for you simp.

When it comes to affection, it goes from quality time, acts of service, gift giving, words of affirmation, and then physical affection. Listen, I know words of affirmation is ranked lowly, but I’m sorry this man with his words sometimes is a mess. He’s not the best at verbally comforting someone.

Now what exactly is it like being a cuddle bug in a relationship with an idealist? Let me bullet that for you.

Cuddles are always initiated by you. Even if you’re not feeling well, you always stretch your arms out for him before he can even blink.

On the off chance it’s initiated by him, it comes out of no where.

I mentioned this in the headcanon but I’ll say it again, after a rough day or mission he craves your touch and comfort. I’m going to assume physical affection is your main love language, so it becomes second nature to him to seek out your touch for affection. He’s the type to bury himself into your arms in that case. He’s vulnerable and sensitive, and while I see him as being only dominant in a relationship, sometimes he just needs to be held and cared for.

Sometimes though he will insist on holding you, and that’s a key indicator that something happened where he felt threatened losing you. If that’s the case, let him holding you and baby you for a bit, he needs to reassurance you’re safe in his arms and not going anywhere.

Wow that got angsty haha, my bad. Let’s move onto something more… fluffy. Literally.

He knew about your love of plushies due to you carrying a couple of small ones in your bags, or having plush keychains. He had to admit at first he didn’t understand the appeal, but it made you happy and, you were quite cute with them. He won’t cuddle them though, I’m sorry.

The first time he saw your plushie collection was when you invited him to your house and allowed him to look around.

He knew you loved plushies but seeing just how many you had, he couldn’t fathom how you afforded them all. Or how you manage to give them all attention, but you do.

He actually sits on your bed and listens intently as you introduce every single stuffie to you. He genuinely cares.

And you better believe he wrote all their names in his notebook. Just please don’t let Dazai see.

He will buy you more plushies for your collection. He keeps tabs on your favorite plushies too. Say you love squish mallows and there’s a rare one coming out, he’ll make sure you get it.

He does sometimes get jealous of your plushies though. There’s been a few times he’s come home to you asleep with your favorite plush in your arms, when it should be him. Eh, it’s his fault for being gone late at work no?

It takes a while for him to let you move in, but he doesn’t stop you from taking over his apartment. There’s always special plushies that stay there. Gifts from him and ones you think resemble him. Whether that’s physical appearance or personality. He found himself comforted by their presence when you aren’t there. The fact they smell like you being a bonus. He will never tell you this though. He will die before admitting it.

The most common cuddle positions involve spooning or laying against his chest. If it’s sitting, then you’re somehow in his lap, or laying your head in it if possible.

It’s become a ritual for you to lay on top of him and tell him all about your day, while he plays with your hair and listens intently. It’s fun listening to his heartbeat pick up as he tells you about the stupid thing Dazai had done today.

It’s also the most convenient if either of you feel like reading a book. He does it a lot, he reads through his book or writes in them to prepare for things.

He’s not the best with you being cuddly and affectionate at work, not at first. It didn’t help that a certain suicidal maniac was his partner and would never leave him alone about it. But after rejecting your affections and see how sad it made you, he learned his lesson and will always allow you to be affectionate with him in public. Not too much though.

Actually now that I think about it Dazai has probably playfully flirted with you (in the dumbest ways) as you sit in Kunikidas lap, asking you to commit double suicide with him, etc. Just to drive his partner insane. You both know that, Kunikida still tries to kill him though. Dazai waits for you to be in his lap since he knows you don’t like to be disturbed and Kunikida can’t get up to hit him.

Funnily enough Ranpo helps ease Kunikidas mind about the affection in the office. You two are great friends by the way. He helped you bully Kunikida into being affectionate with you in the office once. It was great.

I’m sorry though, it doesn’t happen much that you’re affectionate in the office. Cuddles are one thing, which is stretching him enough, but kisses are another. And that’s usually a no. It’s not appropriate in the work place. Sometimes some pecks here and there are okay, but he wouldn’t make out with you.

Behind closed doors or at home though he loves kissing you. I hope you know that. He’s addicted. But that’s a story for another time.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

[acupofcappuccino]

Reading Together with Dr. Ratio.

wc. around 800. an. this is my first post here!! i hope its alright :3 reblogs and likes are super appreciated!

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⋆ ★

The phonograph set near the door spins endlessly, letting out a soft classical tune as the several candles illuminate the dark room around you. Your eyes wander around to the many bookshelves set around, alongside the neat desk set in the middle, near the large window in the back of the room, and a couple of stacks of papers lying on top, alongside an open letter, and a couple of quills.

“Stop looking away from the page. Focus on actually reading it instead.” Ratio mutters as he nudges your side, clearly disliking the fact that you keep on getting distracted. “That’s the reason why you’re here with me in the first place. Is this not what you asked for? To read with me?” He says. “You’re lucky I even visited this space station at all.”

He really wants to finish this book, doesn’t he?

His nose scrunches up as he glares down at you. “I already know what you’re thinking.” He seems irritated at your expression, making you notice the subconscious, amused smile growing on your face. “Of course I’d like to finish reading this chapter.” Ah, as always. He knows everything that’s going on in your head. How does a genius tolerate an average person like you?

“Hush yourself, and read.”

You nudge him back, as if to encourage him to turn the page, and he rolls his eyes as he does so.

“Have you actually been really reading it?” You nod yes to his question, and scan over the words on the page as you read through them. It’s a bit odd to read from this angle, and since he didn’t want you to hold the book, you have to sort of peer over his arms to do so. He notices the discomfort on your face and sighs loudly, somewhat annoyed.

“Here, this’ll make it easier to read for you.” Ratio grumbles, pushing and scooting himself to your side as he grasps your hand roughly, forcing you to grab the left side of the book, while he holds the right. “Now, continue to read.”

It takes you a moment to process what just happened, and you peer up at him to see his face. His warmth feels so nice against you.

“What?” There’s that little frown on his face that pops up everytime he’s embarrassed, though he’ll never admit that to anyone. Not even you. “Just-” He scoffs. “Just read.” He glares down at you, gritting his teeth together as he pushes the last words out. “The book.” Bet he wishes he had on his alabaster head piece.

After a couple minutes of silence, besides the occasional “You read too slow.” and “May you hurry up, so I can flip the page?”, you sigh and lean your head on his shoulder, just finishing up the page after his pestering you to do so. His eyes wander over to your hand, gently caressing the previous page with your thumb, as he holds the other side of the book.

“Are you ready for me to turn the page?” He says, his voice suddenly soft as he flicks his thumb under, ready to flip it. You nod, and he swiftly turns to the next page, catching the next page under your thumb as his eyes trail off you, and onto the words sprawled out on the paper.

After a couple of seconds, he speaks. “How do you like it so far?” He asks, turning his head to look at you, as you do the same. He honestly does look prettier up close. “Is it a bore to you?” It’s impossible to not notice how nice he looks in the candlelight, his amber eyes gazing right into you, awaiting your response.

Now that you think about it, it’s not too bad.

“... Is that so?” He processes your answer for a moment, and a small smile grows on him. “If you’d like, I could buy a copy of this book for you.” Ratio seems happy at your enjoyment of said book, but you shake your head at his offer, and his smile falters. “Why not?”

It’s a simple reason, really. If you had your own copy…

Now, there would be no reason to read it with him like this. And that's no fun.

Ratio looks away from you instantly as soon as your words pour out, letting out a small, long sigh as he focuses all of his attention on the book in front of you two. “What a foolish answer.” But even an idiot can notice the growing blush on his face, the nervous frown forming on his soft lips, the way he keeps fidgeting with the next page, anxiously waiting so he can flip to the next one, and take his mind off his growing embarrassment for you.

Well, who’d known this genius would’ve felt so strongly for you? He can’t even hide his embarrassment and shame.

“How ignorant can one person be…”

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 10

Late night post! Couldn't sleep! Have some tooth rotting fluff!

Masterlist

The days dragged on, Mihawk actually busy for once with Navy orders to investigate a new emergence of rookie pirates at the edges of Doflamingo's territory. The world leaders knew that the pink moron would rather turn a blind eye to any criminal activity in his region. 

Even with his experience with much of the Grand Line and the New World, it still took Dracule a few days past a month for him to even return back to Gloom Island. He found that he missed you terribly, to the point that even Perona had pointed out his less than stellar mood. Not that he was ever really expressive anyway. Mihawk ignored her questions as he packed his ship once more for another week of travel. 

Perona floated after him, a scowl on her pretty face, “You just got back, and you're already leaving again? Why? What about me?” 

Hawkeye rolled his eyes, “I have a life outside of this castle, Perona,” he groused out and carefully stacked the books he had mentally chosen on his way back to Gloom Island. Last time he had seen you, you were particularly interested in the Blues. One of the thick tomes he'd picked would be a perfect gift for you. 

“You didn't three months ago,” She snapped back at him and crossed her arms in a pout. She hated being ignored! What was she supposed to do all alone in this dreary old castle? Zoro wasn't here to entertain her any longer. 

Dracule sighs, sweeping his hand through his hair and leveling the ghost girl a look, “It's rude to dig into other people's business. So stay out of mine,” He points out and then closes the bag full of books. Another smaller satchel rests at his feet, though that one is full of small trinkets from his foray into the New World. 

Usually, he strayed away from the market stalls and overpriced jewelry, but a small wind chime made of green sea glass had caught his eye. Dracule had paid for it without looking at the price and then continued on his way, unconsciously keeping a lookout for anything else that he thought you may like. 

The warlord may or may not have ended up with a few more than he had even meant to buy, but Mihawk thought about the look of joy that would cross your face at his gifts, and pushed the thought of how many he'd gotten away. 

“Well someone should be in your business! You've been so sneaky, Dracy! I want to know what you've been up to!” Perona demands again with a huff. She doesn't care that it's rude to butt into his business. He took care of her, let her stay on Gloom Island, and hadn't kicked her out like she knew he could. Perona would look after him, too! 

“Give it up, Perona,” Dracule grumbled, tone final as he picked up both bags and slung them over his shoulder. He fixed his hat with his free hand and then marched out of his study without a word to the floating pink girl. 

Mihawk wouldn't lie and say that he didn't feel at least the tiniest bit bad for lying to Perona. He did care for the girl, in a way like one would a stray cat. But she also had a big mouth, and Dracule had already slipped up once with Shanks. He couldn't do that again. 

The ghost girl pouted behind him as she followed the warlord all the way outside and to his ship. A frown took over her face when she noticed that he was packed as if he would be gone for a while. The ship looked more crowded than usual, and she wondered what Mihawk had stored away. 

“Well. How long will you be gone for?” Perona asks quietly and tries not to let it show how upset she actually was with Dracule leaving already. 

The older man sighs, stepping off his ship to trudge back inside the castle, “I won't be leaving until tomorrow. The trip takes around a week. I plan to stay for at least four days and then a week trip back,” Dracule says and makes sure to keep everything as vague as possible. He glances at the young girl and rolls his eyes when she still looks upset. 

“We will go shopping when I come back. Will that appease you?” Mihawk asks, and it's like a light switch. 

Perona grins in excitement. Shopping with Mihawk means getting whatever she wants. The warlord had more than enough berri to spend. 

“Fine! But I want to go to the best places, Mihawk! You owe me that,” She demands and crosses her arms in a huff, ready to argue her case if denied. 

“As long as it keeps you quiet,” Dracule says instead, and Perona just sticks her nose up in the air again as she floats away to her room. This wasn't over! She would find out what had suddenly taken all of Mihawk's attention. 

Dracule watches the pink girl leave with a fond sigh. He sits in his chair and reaches down to retrieve a bottle of wine from inside his desk. He pops it to let it air and then pours himself a careful glassful. Mihawk admires the red and thinks back on how this same brand of wine had stained your pretty lips. 

Now alone, the warlord allows his mind to drift without worry, eyes closing as he thinks back to the last time he was with you. His overly romantic thoughts have him sneering at himself, as if he were some prince come to sweep you off your feet. Dracule sips his wine. 

He likes to think that it's the other way around. For the most part, life had before a melancholy bore to Mihawk. Either following the government's orders to look for a good fight or nap the day away in his ship. Little caught and held his attention, but you? You are an entirely different story. 

Mihawk had never met someone so sheltered, only knowing of the world through waterlogged books and from the kindness of any pirate that may have washed up on your beach. From what Dracule has gathered, he has been one of the very few who hasn't tried to kill you. 

You were kind and intelligent. He loved the way that your eyes would light up whenever he spoke of what he knew, always excited to acquire more knowledge. Mihawk found that he wanted to teach to show you everything that he knew. 

He frowns suddenly and thinks back to the rather innocent question that had made anger and panic race through him. You wanted to know about him, not his knowledge, and it made him antsy. You didn't deserve to know the hardships and pain that he has gone through to get to where he is today. You did not need to be aware of the atrocities that he has committed over the years. Dracule Mihawk is not a kind man, and his past certainly reflects it. 

Mihawk would tell you more in time, but for now, Dracule wanted to be selfish. Wanted to hoard you away from the world and keep you safe like a dragon would its treasure. And maybe that is what you were to him. A pirate needed treasure, after all. 

The warlord finishes his glass and then stands, intending to fix himself and his ward dinner. He would leave at first light tomorrow morning, not later than that. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Hank whines at your feet, big puppy dog eyes catching your attention from where you sit slouched at your kitchen table. It's been a month and a half, and still, there has been no sign of Dracule. He had promised that he would be back, and the man didn't seem like the kind to break those, but it still made you worry for him. 

Was he okay? Did whatever business he had to attend go bad? Did a seaking attack him and somehow get the better of him? You have no idea, and your chest hurts at all the horrible possibilities that could befall your friend. 

Were you friends? Did that term apply to the two of you? The few romance books that you'd been able to cobble together didn't make it seem like the two of you were just friends. Was he your boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Again, another countless item that you did not know, however, you resolved to amend that when Dracule returned. Whenever that may be. 

“I know, Buddy. I'm sorry that I'm being such a sad sap,” You lament to your pooch and lean down to give the shaggy dog a scratch under his chin. 

Hank's woofs at, and you watch in suspicion when his ears suddenly snap back, and he wheels around to start barking at the front door. You frown as you get up and follow him, curious as to what got Hank's attention. 

That frown turns upside down when the door opens, and Dracule Mihawk strides in like he owns the place. He sets down several bags and pats Hank's head with a soft smirk before the mutt’s attention is caught by something outside. He bounds away, leaving you and Mihawk staring at one another. 

“Snow Angel,” He begins and takes a half step forward, but that's as far as he gets before you slam into him, Snow exploding around the two of you as you bury your face in his chest. You don't even care that his cross necklace is digging into your face. 

“You're back,” you cry. And when did that start? Oh, we'll. You pull away and wipe your eyes, though you can't help the tremble in your bottom lip, “I was worried that something might have happened to you.” 

Warm, calloused hands close around your freezing face, and Dracule leans in to rest his brow against your own. The feather on his hat tickles your face, but you ignore it, not taking your eyes away from the beautiful yellow ones that demand your attention. 

“There is little out there that could truly hurt me, Dear one,” Mihawk says in such a sure tone that you have no choice but to believe him. He strokes your cheeks, wiping away your tears with a soft smile meant only for you, “Though I do appreciate the thought that you worried for me so.” 

You sniff and send him a glare at his teasing. Damn this man and what he does to you. What you hardly understand. 

“You're really that strong?” You find yourself asking him, and lean back to observe his chiseled physique and the sword on his back. A funny feeling shoots through your stomach when you lay eyes on the cross guard, and you frown at the negativity of the emotion. 

You're so focused that you don't notice Dracule's hesitation, though you are quick to tune back in when he speaks. 

“I am. One of my proudest titles is the Greatest Swordsman in the world,” Mihawk admits, and you can't help but think that this is an important event for him, and you delight in knowing that he was finally giving you a peek inside of who he really is.

“It sounds like you've worked very hard for it,” you say softly and reach up to cup his hands with your own, thumbs swiping gently over his knuckles.  

“I did, still do. It is a title that I will happily defend,” Dracule murmurs and slips a hand free so that he can curl his arm around your waist. You shiver at the warmth he emits, and finally feel like you can breathe properly once again. Before you can comment further, Mihawk is twisting the two of you around and backing you up against the door, “Enough of that. Do kiss me, sweet thing. I have missed your taste.” 

Your back hits the door, and then his lips are upon your, closing over your own in a heated exchange that has one of your hands sliding into his hair and pulling him closer. You kiss him back like your life depends on it, opening up for him when Mihawk's tongue licks the seam of your lips. A choked moan leaves your throat when that hot muscle sweeps inside and curls around your tongue. 

Dracule slows, this kiss turning less frantic with need and more passionate, soft pecks of the lips that still leave your heart racing but in an entirely different way. He leaves one last lingering kiss to your cheek and then pulls away to tuck your head under his chin. You take advantage and cuddle close to him, arms dropping to wrap around his waist. You hum when his grip on you tightens. 

“I missed you,” you murmur quietly, and Dracule kisses the top of your head. 

“I know, dear. I longed for you as well,” he says, and your heart flutters at his words. Did he long for you? Did he pine like the men from your storybooks? 

“Wh-What are we?” You ask before you can stop the damming words coming out of your mouth. You flush and bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I know that we're friends, right? But I don't think friends kiss and, um, touch the way we do.” 

Dracule listens to you babble, finding it endearing that you wanted his opinion on this.

 “You can call what we have whatever you like,” He decides on and then catches your chin to lift your face and place a quick kiss to your lips, “But no matter what you choose, you are my treasure.” 

You can't find any kind of words to say to that, so you just reach for him to pepper his face with kisses, giggling when his facial hair tickles your face. Mihawk allows your fun for a whole before he puts a stop to it by flicking you in the forehead. 

“It's later than I intended to arrive, Darling,” Dracule scolds with a smirk and turns to the two of you around and gently pushes you to the kitchen, “You remember how I showed you to properly open a bottle of wine, right?” 

You laugh and dance into the kitchen, gathering the glasses that he had brought from last time and showing him that you did remember his instructions. You haven't touched the dangerous red liquid since that night, but you know that Dracule enjoys having a glass or four in the evening. 

The two of you settle in the living room afterwards, and Dracule sets his wine down long enough to retrieve the smaller bag. He opens it up, and you watch in growing panic as Mihawk pulls several boxes out of the drawstring. He hands over the largest of the parcels. 

“Open them, please,” Dracule instructs, and you set your own mug away to carefully tug at the delicate purple ribbon that holds the box shut. A gasp leaves you when you take the lid off, and you reverently pull out the beautiful green sea glass and delicate metal tubes attached to the fishing line. 

“What is it?” You ask and raise it up to better examine it in the setting sun that streams through your window. You gasp in delight when you hear the melodic echo at the slightest movement. 

“A wind chime. We can hang it wherever the wind blows most,” Dracule suggests, and you nod eagerly as you set the chimes back inside the box for safekeeping. Miahwk takes it away only to replace it with another. 

You end up with a fish bone comb that has been chiseled by masterful hands. A full sand dollar that you are extra careful with, and a large piece of red glass from a broken bottle that has been sanded and polished to a shine. Each item is handpicked just for you. 

Dracule looks like a smug cat, lips tugged up in a smirk as he watches you reverently put away your gifts. You agree to hang up the wind chime in the morning and open his arms for you to fall into. You gladly do, holding Mihawk close and not ever wanting to let go. 

It's quiet between two of you, a comfortable air that puts you at ease. At some point, Mihawk takes up the book, the one that you had read to him from, and begins to read. His soft timber is enough to send you into a light doze, and he slows to a stop, not wanting you to miss anything. 

“Darling, if you are so tired, let's get you to bed, yes?” Mihawk murmurs and rolls his eyes when all you do is give a sleepy nod. He shifts forward and then stands with you in his arms, tracing the now familiar path back to your bedroom. 

Dracule tucks you in, content to leave you for the night, but he doesn't get far before your pitiful voice rings out, “Stay here with me?” 

The warlord is already sitting on the bed and tugging his boot off. You watch with squinted eyes as Mihawk reaches for his belt, sliding it out of the loops and sliding his pants off. You admire his lean form dressed only in black men's underwear. He is radiant, and it makes you a little nervous to have him so undressed and in your bed no less. 

You toss back the blankets and Dracule slips in beside you. It's a little awkward at first, but then you can feel how much heat he is radiating and desperately wants to know how it feels to have so much of his exposed skin touching you. You roll over to face him, smiling in the dim light of the moon when you realize that he's been watching you the whole time. 

“I know you're cold,” Mihawk whispers, and you can hear that knowing, teasing tone that you have missed so much. “Come here, Snow Angel.” 

You don't have to be told twice, happily closing the distance and tossing your arm over his waist, head pillowed on his chest. You press your freezing feet against his legs and are treated with the rare sight of his eyes going wide and a hiss like a cat escaping his mouth. 

You snicker and get pinched in the side for your trouble, but you can't bring yourself to care. This night couldn't get any better. 

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz

[headspace-hotel]

Thinking of your post on the problems of veganism as a movement vs veganism as a lifestyle choice/one technique amongst many, that also applys super well to my issues with degrowth (And anticonsumerism as well) as a movement vs degrowth as one technique amongst many for dealing with the hydra-crisis of overproduction/resource overuse/destroying people and places for resources.

Like, in particular as an autistic person the continual recurring insistence that we need to just "change our desires" creeps me out. As someone who's difficulties were dismissed as just "having a bad attitude" and who's interests were so often dismissed as a waste of time instead of preparing for a job in the "real world" IDK if they truly understand the full horrifying implications of that line of thought.

So here's the thing with the concept of "overconsumption"

I had to do this whole project on overconsumption in my Anthropology class where I compared my consumption habits to those of someone 2 generations older, the prof clearly had in mind that we would discover a particular result that I did not end up finding.

I had to watch this documentary called "Affluenza" which was all about how Americans consume too much and they shop and buy things for fun and it's killing the planet, and it kept making these statements like "The average american does X..." and "X" would be something insane that I've never dreamed of doing.

Now I technically grew up below the poverty line, we were always financially insecure and struggling to pay bills and there was never any extra money lying around.

But my upbringing felt average, even privileged. We had a house instead of a trailer on cinder blocks, we had food and clothes. Compared to the upbringing of my mom and virtually everyone she knew growing up, we lived in fabulous luxury.

And the "overconsumption" lesson was bizarre to me because it brought up things like "going shopping for fun once a week" and "owning 20+ pairs of shoes" as if they were normal. I wear my clothes until they're unwearable and shop for clothes like once a year, and my mom has half as many clothes as I do. She feels guilty buying anything for herself and HATES shopping.

It feels like the dominant resources on living an eco friendly lifestyle presume that we have far more agency in what we buy and use than we actually do, instead of being stuck with the cheapest or closest available thing, and that our lives are full of extraneous, non-essential "consumption."

That class brought up the idea of "conspicuous consumption" a lot, or buying things to obtain social status instead of for their concrete utility. The way "conspicuous consumption" was addressed in the class was not very immediately relatable to me—I never had the option of buying clothes just to appear "with it" socially. My parents couldn't buy an extra car to fit the aesthetic of the American dream—we had enough trouble keeping the one we had running. The "conspicuous consumption" that class addressed was just not available to me.

However, I don't think conspicuous consumption is endemic to stable members of a certain socioeconomic status, because consumption is partially driven by the trauma of poverty. People who grew up poor will buy you more Christmas gifts than you can store or use, because they want to spare you the shame they experienced. Their brains are molded around the trauma of not having enough, and giving you enough is their way of keeping you safe.

Conspicuous consumption as a habit is pushed on you if your ancestors were shaped by this trauma. It is a misrepresentation to think of it as driven by pride, because your ability to perform the behaviors and mimic the appearances of a higher socioeconomic status has a concrete effect on how people treat you.

I know J.D. Vance is a nutjob now and Hillbilly Elegy was...not great (I'm more appalachian than you bitch, and I'm not even appalachian!) but the one thing that book got incredibly right was the idea of "social capital" and the way access to financial security and wealth gives you social capital. This is the main thing the current understanding of "conspicuous consumption" gets wrong—the need to escape the appearance and behaviors of poverty is seen as vain and self-indulgent, when it's a survival mechanism and it's something you're expected to engage in to gain opportunities and respect.

Poverty is humiliating. People with money never think about the fact that they have money. They think of themselves as average, if they think of themselves in terms of socioeconomic status at all. Being poor ends up embedded in the grooves and folds of your brain.

I remember when I was about 12, I gave my friend an informal tour of our house the first time she came over, showing her every room. I realized later that this wasn't exactly a normal behavior—I had done it because my mom did the same thing when she brought her friend over, and my mom had done it because it was a way of saying look, I survived. Look, I have a place to live to call my own, isn't this nice?

At its worst, anti-consumerism just reinforces the myth that your consumption is purely a matter of personal choice. And unfortunately when the conversation is ruled by the privileged, this idea will appear substantiated—because rich people can choose the aesthetics of poverty without concretely affecting the way the world treats them. A rich person can choose to live in a "tiny house" but they will never be "trailer trash."

Anti-consumerism revolves around ideas that are almost irreparably tainted by the mythology of an unequal society. Rich people possess and control the aesthetic of restraint and frugality, allowing them to playact living a Simple Life where they live in a tiny minimalist cottage and eat Healthy Vegan Oat Gruel, while McDonalds is the emblem of American excess. It is poor people's behaviors and habits that exemplify excess and greed.

Anti-consumerism isn't going to change anything until it openly confronts the fact that poverty is traumatic and consumption patterns often arise from poverty survival mechanisms.

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Two - Backpack, Backpack

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Mentions of Bucky’s ‘Old Life’, talks about slight “Violence” (Bucky’s past), talks of a first aid kit, feeling “scared” about being a little, fluff! Obviously! 

Word Count - 2164

Note - I've finished all of Bub and Buck's story now, and I have to say it's been crazy going back and blending chapters/blurbs together to create a more cohesive story. It's been fun, and crazy, and honestly I missed this little place that I loved so much. Cafe BigNSmall is the beginning of so much, not just this account. It was the first little writing thing I put out that really got traction and that led me to where I am now. Going to school in January for creative writing, beginning the process of writing my own book. This little fic that has brough comfort to so many, myself included, is so much bigger than just a fanfiction or just a writing process and I'm so thankful for everyone who has stuck by my side, who has liked, reblogged, and sent asks about it. I love every one of you, I love who you've helped me become, and I've loved every minute of re-writing this series and I hope you love re-reading, or even reading it for the first time. I just have so so so much love in my heart for this and for you <3

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Bucky sat at his same table for the umpteenth time, but this time he sat with a smile knowing someone was on their way to sit with him. For the first time in a while Bucky wasn’t sitting and watching everyone while feeling jealous, instead he watched as a Caregiver hugged their Little and felt hopeful that he might get to have that one day. 

“MR!” Y/n yelled from the entrance like she couldn’t believe he was there, sitting at their table ready for whatever she wished to do. “Hi!” She smiled at him when she got to the table, her usual overalls and t-shirt combo covered by a heavy sweater. He was happy she had covered up more than yesterday, the sky grey instead of blue, and the colder. 

“Hi.” He smiled back, Bucky was sure he looked goofy with how big his smile was but he didn’t care. “Chilly?” He asks as he watches them shiver slightly when the finally sit down. 

“Yeah.” Y/n tilts her head to the side as she seems to contemplate something. “I think ‘m gonna get a hot chocolate.” She rummages around her bag before finding her wallet and pulling out a five dollar bill. Bucky was quicker though, already on his feet and in the line. “What are you gonna get?” Y/n asks as she joins him in the line. 

“Well, I think I’m going to get a hot chocolate too.” He looks down at her, a silly grin on her face as she nods her head. “Their cake pops look good too.” Bucky points to the glass case full of baked goods and premade sandwiches. 

“I know!” Y/n practically jumps. “I had one once.” They frown. “But I never have enough moneys for one, maybe next week I’ll get one.” They nod their head, agreeing with their idea. 

Bucky already planned on buying Y/n a cake pop, but wanted to make sure she actually did like them. Finding out she’s only had one because she can’t afford them has him vowing to always buy her one whenever she’s here. 

The money Bucky got from the government after his treatment went public often sits in his bank account unused, he has what he needs, and most of what he wants, and he hates spending the money on useless things. Yet as he watches Y/n’s eyes flicker to the case full of sweet treats with a frown on their face he’s happy to know he finally has something, someone worth spending money on. 

“Hi, what can I get you today?” The barista smiles at Bucky, giving an extra sweet grin and a wave to Y/n. 

“Can I get two medium hot chocolates, please?” Bucky places his hand on Y/n’s shoulder to get her attention before asking. “What kind of cake pop do you want Bub?” 

“I can’t.” They shrug their shoulders, clearly not aware that Bucky’s already ordering for her. 

“I’m buying you one. Which one do you want, Bub?” He adds some clarification, leaning down slightly to be at Y/n’s height, pointing to the cake pops in the case. “I love vanilla, I think I’ll get a vanilla one.” He says, hoping that him getting one will make Y/n feel less nervous. 

She begins playing with her hands, twisting her fingers together, something Bucky’s noticed she does when anxious. “Um, I like chocolate.” She whispers, looking back at Bucky with weary eyes. “But I don’ wan’ you to buy it, I -” Bucky doesn’t let her finish her sentence, instead he stands and orders both cake pops before paying. 

With both hands on Bub’s shoulders he moves them over to the wait station. “When you’re with me I’ll be the one buying things, okay?” His tone is sweet but also somehow firm, hoping his words make sense and are final, but also hoping he doesn’t seem too overbearing. 

“Like a, like when.” Bub stumbled over her words before turning around to face Bucky, his hands dropping from her shoulders only for her to grab his left, glove covered, hand to fidget with it like she does hers. “Like a caregiver?” She asks, finally meeting Bucky’s glance. 

“Exactly like that.” Bucky nods. “I’ll act like your caregiver when we’re together, okay?” He regrets using the word ‘act’ the moment he says it, Y/n somberly nodding at his words. He wants to be her caregiver all the time, he doesn’t want to just act as one while around her, but he met her yesterday. Neither of them know each other well enough for that kind of trust, yet Bucky seems to feel like they both are on the same wavelength. Like they’ve waited long enough for someone to be their other, why wait a little longer. 

“I’d like tha’.” Y/n nods, turning back around in Bucky’s arms to wait for their cake pop and hot chocolate. 

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For a whole week Bucky and Bub met up everyday, getting hot chocolate and cake pops. Y/n kept giving Bucky colouring pages to take home with her signature at the bottom, his fridge now covered in them after a frantic late night trip to buy magnets. Walking into his house and seeing the fridge coloured in pictures made him love the fact that he bought a huge fridge able to store at least another week's worth of pictures without having to remove anymore of the ones he’s already been given. 

“Hi, Mr!” Y/n smiled as she sat down on her booth seat, her backpack placed on the table as she got comfortable. “I made you something.” 

“You did?” Bucky unpackaged her cake pop and placed it on a napkin, sliding it over to her along with her hot chocolate. “Careful it’s hot.” Bucky warned as Bub went straight for her drink the moment it was in her line of sight. 

“Otay.” She blew a breath onto the cup, though Bucky wasn’t sure how helpful her hot puff of air would be in cooling it down, instead pulling it back to himself and blowing cold air on it for her. “Here.” She placed a piece of paper onto the table. 

This picture wasn’t one from a colouring book, but one on regular plain paper, drawn by Y/n and coloured by her to. Two figures stood hand in hand with a box of crayons in the middle. One person was obviously Bucky, the other Y/n. Even if he couldn’t tell Bub had written their names “Mr” and “Bub” below each of their persons. “I love it.” Bucky smiled, sliding the, now less hot, hot chocolate back to Y/n, her taking a sip immediately and humming in content. “I’ll have to put in on my fridge.” He said aloud, though he meant to keep the words to himself, not sure if it was wrong to admit he had grown attached to Y/n enough to want her pictures on his fridge. 

“Really?” Her usually playful voice grew serious, her eyes filled with tears. “My drawing?” 

“Yeah, Bub.” He smiled, glad she seemed happy over the idea. “I have a few of your drawings on my fridge already.” He admitted. Before he could place it in his bag Y/n was up and out of her seat sliding into Bucky’s booth before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Oh.” Bucky lets out a surprised sigh. 

“I like you, you nice.” Y/n said as she pulled away, though didn’t leave the booth. 

“You’re nice too, Bub.” Bucky said in disbelief. He knew the two of them were making good steps towards fully being comfortable around one another, Y/n seemed to slip further and further into regression, showing she felt safe around Bucky, and she had even asked him if he was the Winter Soldier and hadn't run when he said yes. But he hadn’t expected her to feel comfortable enough to hug him, yet he wasn’t going to argue or complain. 

Y/n eyed his bag for a minute or so before asking a question. “Wha’s in your bag?” She asked, this being the first time she had truly seen it. 

“I’ll show you what’s in my bag, if you show me what’s in yours?” He offered, having been wondering what she brought with her to the cafe everyday. “Deal?” He asked, and she perked up, agreeing before sliding out and back onto her seat, something Bucky frowned at. 

“Otay!” Bub squealed, opening her green backpack before digging around a little bit. The first thing she pulled out was a small zipper pouch, the fabric printed with frogs and plants. “This has m’ keys, an’ my phone.” She pulled both out, her phone being secured in a bag inside her bag making sense as to why it took her so long to find it when her alarm went off. “An’ it has my tic tacs in it! D’ you wan’ one?” She asked with a smile, holding out tropical tic tacs to Bucky. 

“I’m okay, but thank you Bub.” He smiled, proud of her manners and willingness to share her things. He knew he couldn't take credit for her good behaviour, or her manners. She was a sweet girl even if he didn’t remind her here and there of her manners, yet he was still extremely proud of her. 

“M’kay.” Bub nodded her head, popping a few tic tacs in her mouth before moving on. “Dis, um, dis is my frog.” Bub’s once very confident attitude dulled slightly as she brought the frog stuffie out, like she was waiting for someone to say something rude. 

“He’s very cute.” Bucky reassured her, his hand brushing against the stuffed animal's foot, his fur in perfect condition. “What’s his name?” 

Y/n still seemed on alert, but opened up a little more. “I call him Green Bean.” She pats his head. 

“That’s a perfect name.” Bucky chuckles, loving how creative his Bub is. “Where did you get his outfit?” He asks, referring to the knitted overalls and t-shirt, identical to Y/n’s everyday outfit. 

“I made dem!” Bucky was happy to see her peppy spark come back as she spoke about her stuffy. Giving him the rundown on how she made them, and made clothing for all her other stuffies at home. Then she gave him the rundown on a bunny stuffie she really wanted that was identical to the one she has at home. Though “He’s no’ the same Mr! He’s a different colour!” something Bucky quickly made a mental note of. 

Bub only had her wallet and a sweater stuffed at the bottom of her bag, and a small bag of long forgotten goldfish that Bucky immediately threw out left to show. “Your turn.” Y/n reminded Bucky, gesturing to his backpack. 

“Well.” He started, opening his bag, pulling out his wallet, keys and phone. “These are the things I have on me at all times.” He said, watching Y/n pick up his keys and fiddle with them, clearly loving his accumulated keychain and key combo from the last 100 years. “Then I have a First Aid Kit.” He pulls out a bulky box, a few things banging around inside. 

“In case someone ge’s hurt?” Y/n asks, concern dripping from her expressions. 

“Exactly.” Bucky answers, though he doesn’t admit that he mainly carries it out of fear that he’ll hurt someone and need to patch them up, but he hopes that Y/n’s just thinking about scrapes and small cuts and not the carnage he’s left behind. 

“Do you have princess bandaids?” She asks with all seriousness. 

“I have princess ones, paw patrol, and starwars.” He playful one ups her, the two of them laughing before he continues. “Then I have extra crayons, colouring pages, and a couple water bottles.” He pulls out the extra things, Y/n’s hands immediately going to the colouring pages. 

“Can I do this one, please?” She asks, bouncing in her seat, her frog underneath her arm. 

“Of course, Bub.” He smiles, the frog page she chose the one he printed off last night in the hopes to give it to her. 

After the small show and tell the two of them sat together eating their cake pops and drinking their hot chocolate. Everytime he looked up Bucky realised just how lucky he was, to have found a Little who was as chill as Bub was, and as sweet as she was too. He realised that while he wished he could have met her sooner, he was happy he waited. 

“Why don’t we go to the park tomorrow?” He asked, thinking it could be good for them to get out somewhere other than just the cafe. 

“Yes!” Y/n practically jumped out of her seat at the idea, the two of them chatting about how excited they were for their adventure tomorrow.