#and that’s okay!! it’s good for things in life to change

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc—There are better ways to meet someone.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main. Soul mates.

---

"Exactly... what does this ring do?" The shining ring was still attached to his finger. This wouldn't worry him if it weren't for the fact that, with each passing minute, the ring emitted more light, and that can't be good.

The cult leader refused to speak. He wouldn't even look at him, seeming particularly attentive to the material the floor was made of. Very funny that now he was scared of him when, an hour ago, he was giving a very cliché speech about how humanity was doomed because it would summon the evil of evils.

It wasn't very smart of him to perform his summoning precisely in Gotham City, home of the Dark Knight.

Red Hood was getting impatient. He placed the hand without the ring on his weapon; if words didn't work, a real threat to his life would. And this didn't really break Bruce's 'no killing' rule because the gun was only loaded with rubber bullets. However, just as he was about to advance and shoot the guy, he saw Batman grab the leader's tunic collar and lift him up.

The man, of course, screamed in fear. "Speak, what does that ring do?" No jokes. Batman's voice was deeper than usual, showing that he was upset, no, rather angry.

Or worried, but Jason could never consider that possibility. For the moment, he was only surprised, although it didn't show through his helmet.

"I-I don't know," the leader replied. Poor guy, he seemed about to cry. Batman, not content, tightened his grip even more; he wasn't willing to tolerate a lie this time.

Red Robin raised an eyebrow. "You managed to gather a bunch of magical artifacts for your summoning and you don't know what they do?"

The man looked away. "No..." The rest of the cult members also looked away. Very brave and stupid of them to all agree to lie to the bats. Jason himself wanted to mock them, but the ring kept shining. He couldn't mock when the ring kept shining and he didn't know what it meant.

From the communications, Robin could be heard. "Tt, this wouldn't be happening if Hood hadn't put on the ring." Jason suppressed a growl.

"Kid, I didn't put on the ring. This thing stuck to me the moment I touched it." It was true. In the middle of the operation to stop the ritual, Jason had pulled the ring, which at that moment was a kind of necklace by the chain that ran through it, from a member who was wearing it. The ring in his hand began to glow and suddenly teleported to his ring finger, then stopped shining. It was when everything calmed down that the ring began to release a different, but constant light.

Approximately ten minutes have passed since then, he thought as he looked at the ring, ignoring all the magical stuff; it was actually a very simple ring. Suddenly, the ring began to blink.

Oh, no. That couldn't be good.

Batman, fed up with the leader's silence and his followers, threw the man meters ahead. "Oracle, call Zatanna now, we need more information about the ring," he ordered as he approached the man who was in pain from the fall. The guy, terrified by the violent aura of the Dark Knight, tried to retreat.

Finally, Nightwing stepped between the man and the brutal beating he would receive if he didn't speak.

"It's okay, B, calm down." With his hand on his father's shoulder, Dick tried to ease the atmosphere. "I understand your concern. We are all worried about what the ring might do to Hood. But we can't let fear and anger control us. Hood is important to all of us. He is our brother, your son. We can't lose our cool now. Let's call Wonder Woman. If no one wants to talk, she can help us with the lasso of truth."

Total silence. Jason didn't know what to say; he didn't think his family would react like this over a blinking ring. That is... he doesn't know. Suddenly, the ring's light began to blink faster.

Batman, after Nightwing's words and seeing the change in the ring, understood that he couldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't talk. "You're right, thank you Nightwing." Looking at the others, he said: "We need to act quickly, we don't know the effects the ring might have on Hood. We need to take him to the cave for a thorough analysis, no discussions." The last part he said looking at Jason. "Until then, don't try to take it off or use it."

Jason scoffed, as if he would.

"Oracle, you heard, call Diana. Red Robin and I will take care of the rest of the cult. Nightwing, take Red Hood to the cave." Batman began giving orders as he reached the leader and began dragging him towards the rest of his cult. The leader, in a failed attempt, tried to resist. "Agent A, please prepare a stretcher. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

On the other hand, the touching speech and the strange family moment of the bats seemed to soften the heart of a girl from the cult, who in a whisper said: "The ring, nothing will happen to him." Although she spoke quietly, everyone present heard her.

The leader, panicking that the information would be revealed, exclaimed: "Catrina, shut up!" However, he was struck by Batman, who was already fed up with the guy.

"What do you have to say about the ring?" he asked.

The woman hesitated to speak. "We thought of using the ring to subdue the king of the dead and make him listen to our orders..." She paused, not knowing how to continue. "There is a real legend about the ring. A long time ago, a witch wanted to know who her soulmate was, so she created the ring. This allows one to be guided to their soulmate through the red thread. I think everyone already knows what the red thread is." Nervous, she looked around. Only Nightwing nodded, and that was enough for her to continue telling. "Well, the witch's red thread connected with a prince. Unfortunately for everyone, the prince was not happy that his soulmate was a witch. So he had her killed." The girl looked at her hands; that part of the story was sad. "The witch was angry, but still wanted her soulmate to accept her, so she rewrote the ring's original purpose. It was no longer something that united you with your soulmate, but now it was something that allowed you to subdue your soulmate... uh, this." She pointed to a book that was lying in a corner. "With another spell, in fact, it can be used to subdue anyone, even a king of the dead."

With the whole story already told, Red Robin asked: "So, what is the ring doing to Red Hood?"

"It's tracking his soulmate. I... didn't get to put the other spell on it. I could only activate the ring's primary function. Your brother will be fine."

That definitely changes things. Jason swore he could hear his heart beating. A soulmate, wow. He admits he's read many romance novels and maybe once dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen, wow.

Suddenly, the ring stopped blinking. Five seconds later, everyone saw a red thread shoot out from the ring's gem. It quickly moved in one direction, went through the wall, and kept going. The process was like a fishing rod when it catches a fish.

"Does this mean it already found its soulmate?" Red Robin asked. Astonished by the red thread, he tried to touch it but his hand went through it; apparently, the thread was intangible to anyone else.

"Yes," the cultist also seemed astonished.

Jason felt a look on him, turned, it was his brother. Oh no, not that look, he knew that smile; Dick would tease him so much in the coming days. For his part, Batman sighed in relief. Well, it wasn't such an extreme danger, but it was still dangerous. "Agent A, cancel the stretcher." He never imagined this would mean a soulmate case. "Oracle, don't cancel the call to Zatanna or Wonder Woman, we need to verify the information. We'll stay here until the police arrive."

How nice it would be if everything ended like that, right? With Dick joking with Jason, Tim analyzing the thread, Barbara laughing at the turn of events, Bruce relieved and Damian surprised. However, one must remember the story.

The witch changed the ring's original purpose. Unexpectedly, the thread began to retract, as if it had caught something. It did so so quickly that Jason grabbed his hand in pain. It was then that everyone had a bad feeling. The wall the thread had previously passed through suddenly exploded, the noise and dust alerting everyone, especially when once the chaos disappeared, something horrific could be seen.

An arm. A fucking arm. Apparently freshly torn from its owner. Oh, no. What did it do to his soulmate?

...

Somewhere else in the world, somewhere in the United States, Danny gasped in pain. What the hell? What was that? Ancients! Where is his arm?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Edited on 06/21/2024 - Note two: Thanks to redflagshipwriter, who continued this idea below. And to Sakuravalelp who made me laugh with the complement.

[verstappen-cult]

# USING YOUR SAFEWORD

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher.

GWEN’S MESSAGE. hi besties! this is based on this request: ‘a headcanon type blurb thing with the drivers reacting to you using your safeword?’ sorry it took me so long!

★ — LANDO NORRIS

Lando’s sitting at the foot of the bed, watching you as you try to regulate your rapid breathing. He wants nothing more than to hold you and let you know that everything is okay, but when he tried to touch you, after you whispered your safeword in between sobs, you pushed him away. Lando knows you need a little space to feel safe again, so he stands up very carefully to grab one of his shirts to give to you. His heart breaks when you avoid making eye contact, just whispering a simple ‘thank you’.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he hears your voice. “I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing that leaves your mouth, followed by: “I just – I was too in my head and I couldn’t keep going. I’m so–” Lando climbs on the bed but doesn’t move closer to you, he waits until you’re the one reaching for his hand. He spends most of the night reassuring you that he’s not mad and everything is okay.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC

Charles stops immediately, reaching for the glass of water waiting on the nightstand. Your face is flushed and there are tears in the corner of your eyes, one falls down your cheek when you make eye contact with him; when you open your mouth to speak, Charles stops you with a hand on your shoulder and a shy smile. “What have we talked about. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” It doesn’t matter how many times he says those words, you have a hard time believing them.

He knows you need to feel him closer, that’s why he lies down next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat to relax. You stop crying and shaking eventually, thanks to your boyfriend taking such good care of you. Charles makes sure you feel comfortable.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI

Oscar is a bit shocked when he hears the words, not knowing exactly what to do more than stop and pull away. You’re the one reassuring him that things are okay, even if you feel a little too lost in your head. It’s only when he sees you trying to cover your body with the sheets that Oscar snaps out of it. He asks if you need anything and makes sure you feel comfortable and safe with him around. It’s cute how he doesn’t know what to do but tries to do anything just for you.

You reassure him that it has nothing to do with him, so he doesn’t need to worry or overthink anything. Oscar listens attentively to what you have to say and makes sure you know that he doesn’t care about anything more than you and your safety. You two fall asleep hugging each other.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN

Max makes sure you’re cuddled and warm in the bed, feeling safe before sprinting out of the room to get you a cup of tea. He comes back with a frown which makes you want to cry even more, but he’s immediately climbing on the bed and wrapping his arms around your body. Feeling his warmth and affection is exactly what you need, Max also knows you need to hear him say that, “I’m here with you, okay? Nothing is going to happen.”

You really don’t know what you did to deserve such a gentle and caring person, but you’re so thankful for Max. He knows you better than you know yourself, and never judges you. Not even when you’re in the middle of it, and you blurt your safeword. No matter how many times it happens.

★ — ALEX ALBON

Alex apologises like his life depends on it, panicking to the brink of crying because, “I didn’t want to hurt you, love. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” And you need to stop for a second and reassure him that it’s okay, that he didn’t actually hurt you. But Alex just keeps rambling and waving his hands and you find it somewhat funny.

He peppers your face with gentle kisses, making you both laugh. Alex ends up helping you to change into some of his clothes and you order something greasy to eat in bed. He doesn’t leave your side the whole night, still whispering little sorrys.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO

Daniel holds you close against his chest as you try to get out of your head, his voice soothing, enough to calm you down. When you open your mouth to apologise, he beats you to it. “Do not apologise. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” You hum weakly and just let him hold you for as long as you need.

But he also thanks you for being honest which makes you feel a little better after ruining the night. You don’t say that out loud because you know what he is going to say, and you really don’t want things to get awkward. Daniel massages your arms and back, with some kisses in between, helping you relax and release the tension.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER

Mick holds your face and wipes your tears, a frown adorning his handsome features because you don’t stop apologising and, “It’s all good, sweetheart. You did so good, I’m proud of you.” You stop rambling and crying eventually, and it’s then that Mick leaves you on the bed to go prepare you a hot bath.

He picks you up very carefully and helps you get in the bathtub filled with your favorite bathbomb and perfumes. Mick doesn’t pressure you at any moment and just stays there, helping you bathe.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 26] Change of Plans

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“What do you mean your parents are here?” Worry consumes Satoru as soon as he hears about the announcement. His eyes go directly to Ren, who looks around confused. Why is Sayo’s parents showing up a big deal? Ren sees his parents everyday and it’s not a big deal. 

“I don’t know why they’re here. One of the maids just came into my room with the announcement and I– I don’t know.” She’s running her hands through her hair, taking deep breaths to keep her cool but it’s hard. She’s freaking out and Satoru can’t blame her.

“It’s okay, Sayo. Deep breaths.” Satoru tries to get her to calm down while he freaks out himself. It’s Ren’s birthday, he doesn’t want the night to be ruined because Sayo’s parents decided it’d be a great day to stop by. “Ren, come here.”

“I thought you were going to open mommy’s gift?” Ren asks, but he won’t question it further. Satoru had a change of heart, that’s a good enough answer for Ren. He walks back to his father, and Satoru’s hand goes to the top of his head. 

“What are we going to do– I mean you have your son here, this birthday party clearly isn’t for you. What are we going to say?” Sayo rambles, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before she has to go downstairs to greet them. “What do we even say?”

“I don’t know. I…” Satoru is unsure of what to say next. What should he do? He looks down at Ren and takes a moment to really think about his options. He can’t hide Ren forever, and he isn’t going to.

Satoru isn’t proud of a lot of things in his life because quite frankly he hasn’t made the best decisions, and Ren is everything to him. His pride and joy. He doesn’t want to keep hiding him, Satoru is done with all of this.

“I think it’s time to come clean.” Satoru says, words that are dreaded by her. But she somewhat understands. Satoru just has a beautiful family that is waiting for him– Or whatever you have going on, either way, it’s time to put an end to this. She bites down her lip before nodding in agreement.

“You’re right.” She agrees as a sigh escapes her lips. She wanted this to go on a little longer… No, she wanted this to keep going forever since she can’t deal with the truth. But Satoru isn’t her little puppet, and he has his own feelings to cherish and protect.

Her eyes are filling up with tears, and she tries to turn quickly to leave. She doesn’t want Satoru to back down or to think she wants him to; she’s simply overcome with emotion because this is it, after tonight, she won’t have a family. Satoru speaks before she can walk away, making sure to cover Ren’s ears beforehand, “Sayo, you might not be my wife but you’re still going to be my family.”

“I appreciate it, Satoru.” She manages to say, before walking away. Satoru takes his hands off Ren’s ears and smiles down at him.

“Change of plans, I’ll open your mommy’s gift later. Let’s go downstairs.” Satoru tells Ren, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room. He’s not letting the boy out of his sight for even a moment, he’ll proudly show off his son tonight.

“Who are–” You’re right outside his door when he opens up, and he interrupts you to answer your question.

“Sayo’s parents.” He says, and your eyes widen. You don’t know much about the situation, but you can only assume this isn’t good news. Mrs. Gojo is chatting with them, keeping them occupied but from what you’ve heard, this isn’t good news.

“Do you want me to leave and take Ren for the time being?” You ask him, trying to grab your baby boy’s hand but Satoru shakes his hand.

“Time to put an end to all of this. I can’t hide him forever… He’s my whole world, how can I?” Satoru responds, and you feel your heart flutter. Your face begins to get warm, and you can’t believe you’re feeling fuzzy because Satoru is being a good father. 

“This won’t cause too many issues, right?” You question, and Satoru won’t tell you the truth but he won’t lie to you either. So he chooses to ignore the question, and picks up Ren from the ground. Satoru walks past you, and you begin to follow behind him. 

You don’t know what’ll happen next, and you’re sure it’s not going to be the best scene. You’re almost sure that you’ll be the one that’s going to be blamed for everything, but there’s no way you’re leaving Satoru alone with Ren in this mess. You really do wish you could leave with Ren right at this moment, but you understand that this is something Satoru has to do.

“Satoru–” A woman that looks just like Sayo, simply slightly older, begins to speak. She’s taken back by the boy that Satoru holds, her mouth agape as she stares in complete and utter confusion. Could be a cousin of some sort, though the boy looks too much like Satoru. “Did you and Sayo–”

“Who is this boy?” Sayo’s father steps in, and Satoru feels the nerves slowly consume him, but he’ll remain brave. The process of merging just began, and this will surely ruin everything but it doesn’t matter anymore. All Satoru cares for is the little boy that he holds in his arms– And you who stand behind him. 

“My son.” Satoru answers before putting Ren down on the ground. Before he can say anything more, you grab Ren and take him away because he shouldn’t witness any of what’s about to happen. Satoru holds his breath, waiting for a reaction from the pair.

“Sayo!” Her father couldn’t be any louder, as it dawns on him that his son-in-law has a son; a son that is very clearly not his daughter’s.

“She’s not at fault for this, so leave her out of it.” Satoru quickly says, but he knows his words won’t change anything. He’s seen how they interact, it’s the reason why Sayo doesn’t want the news to come out. She could do nothing, but her parents will find a way to blame her for everything.

“She’s known about this, she definitely is at fault.” Her mother responds, and Satoru takes a deep breath. He wants to leave so badly and enjoy the very special day with his son and you, but he can’t leave Sayo alone. Not in this mess at least. 

“Sayo! Get down here!” Her father yells once again, getting desperate for his daughter to come downstairs. But it’s not her who comes down, but you. Their eyes fall on you, the woman who took away Satoru’s son, which can only mean one thing to them.

“You’re the tramp.” Her mother says, and both you and Satoru are completely shocked by her words. You have yet to speak, yet she’s already managed to insult you. You somewhat expected this though so you can’t say you’re too surprised; you’re still a little hurt though. “What the hell did you do to him? Satoru would never–”

“Get out.” Satoru’s voice is harsh, making it clear that they’re unwelcome into his home. Sayo has yet to come down to face this, but Satoru isn’t going to allow it. Not tonight at least. They’re staring at him as if they haven’t heard him, which makes him yell, “Get out! You’re not welcome here!”

“We’re going to talk about this, we’re not leaving.” Sayo’s father says, but Satoru isn’t willing to listen to this now. This is supposed to be a special day for him and his son, yet he feels as if the night is ruined. He feels sorry for Sayo, since she won’t get to deal with this tonight, delaying the inevitable confrontation once again. Satoru just isn’t up to listen to them anymore, especially after the woman insulted you. 

“You’re leaving. I told you that you’re leaving, and if you don’t start moving within the next thirty seconds, I’m dragging you out.” Satoru is seeing red. He’s always had a particular dislike for Ssayo’s parents, but they’ve never made him this angry before. 

They see that he’s very serious about this, and they won’t argue with him now. They’ll leave for the moment, as a birthday present. But they’ll come back tomorrow, and they’re not going to leave until they get a proper explanation from him and their daughter.

“Happy birthday, Satoru, and happy anniversary to you and my daughter.” The woman makes sure to say before leaving the house, doing it to remind you that Satoru is a married man. 

“Where’s Ren?” Satoru asks the moment they step out of the house. He’s not going to allow anyone else to ruin tonight. He’s spending the rest of his birthday with you and his son.

“I left him with Sayo so she wouldn’t come down. I’ll go get him.” You answer, and Satoru nods in response. He runs to the kitchen while you go upstairs to grab your baby.

“Mommy! Look, Sayo and I started playing Mario Party!” Ren exclaims when he sees you step into the game room. You smile at him and at the woman that sits beside him. You found her nearly sobbing, you knew she couldn’t go downstairs with how she was crying. 

“Your daddy wants to see you, Ren.” You tell him, and he pouts. His game just started and you’re tearing it away– it’s fine, at least he’ll get to have cake later.

“But our game just started!” Sayo protests, and you chuckle. You agree,

“Alright, but ten minutes. You know Satoru is impatient.”

After Ren loses to Sayo too many times, he gives up on his game. Which is good for Satoru who was growing a little too impatient while he watched them play. He knows it’s only a matter of time before his mother comes in, asking him to fix this mess. He’s not in the mood for any of this tonight though, and while he wanted to celebrate the day with so many other people, he’s changed his mind. 

He feels bad for leaving everyone else behind when they’ve come to celebrate Ren’s birthday, but he can’t stand being in the place for much longer. He takes you, Ren, and the cake, practically forcing you into a car. You can’t protest much, and you won’t because it’s also his birthday and you’ll grant him just about anything that’ll make him happy.

“Can we have some of the cake now?” Ren asks as he sits right next to it. He was dragged out last minute from his own party, he might as well get a piece of his cake. 

“When we get to where we’re going.” You answer, although you’re not sure how long the ride is. Satoru dragged you out with such urgency, and you wonder if someone is expecting you. Are you late for something? You guess you’re not, Satoru just needs a breath from his home. 

You’re proven right when he pulls into the home that he took you not too long ago. You can only imagine the scene that Mrs. Gojo was going to cause, so you understand his decision.

You exit the car, and grab the cake before Ren can get his hands on it. Satoru picks up his baby boy and takes him inside the house, commenting, “Soon enough you’re going to be too heavy for me to carry.”

“Grammy says the same thing.” Ren points out, and while they chatter, you look around the place. It’s more ready than before, filled with new and luxurious furniture. Satoru’s moving in soon, that’s what you can gather. 

You don’t stare for too long since the cake is getting heavy for you to carry. You remember the way to the dining room, so you go there and set the cake down on the table. You hear how both of them laugh which brings a smile to your lips. Ren loves his father more than anything, and you’re happy that he can finally spend his birthday with Satoru. 

“Mommy!” Ren yells, and you follow the voice that calls out for your name. You find them in the kitchen, Ren on the kitchen counter while Satoru looks for something to eat in the fridge. When Ren sees you, he immediately asks, “Can we order a pizza?”

“If that’s what you both want.” You answer, and Satoru immediately closes the fridge.

“Good because we have nothing here.” Satoru comments, and you let out a chuckle. 

“Satoru, you’re more than welcome to get something without asking for my permission.” You tell him, and he shakes his head. He’ll rather ask for your permission beforehand. “You’re a grown man, Satoru.”

“I’m grown too!” Ren chimes in, and Satoru side eyes him. 

“What did you just say, pipsqueak?” Satoru teases him as he picks up Ren from the counter. Satoru pulls his chubby cheek and says, “You’re only grown when I can’t carry you anymore.”

“You said that it’d be soon.” Ren reminds his father, and Satoru purses his lips. Ren got him there.

“Yeah, soon. But not now. See, I can still carry you.” Satoru responds. And he’ll still be able to carry Ren for many years to come so Satoru isn’t too worried about it.

“Let me order the food.” You tell them while they begin to bicker about the fact that Ren thinks he’s old now.

After eating your dinner, and playing some games, Ren finally gets to cut his birthday cake. Ren sits on his father’s lap, while Satoru lights up some matches since he forgot to bring the birthday candles. It’s a simple mistake with an easy solution. 

Ren isn’t too upset about the five matches on his birthday cake since he’s too focused on the frosting on the cake. Ren is trying to sneak some of the icing while you two sing happy birthday. He finally sneaks it in when you’re clapping, though Satoru notices. Satoru is laughing, telling him, “Blow out the matches.”

“It’s your birthday too.” Ren reminds him, the evidence of his crime all over his lips. Satoru clicks his tongue before blowing the matches for Ren since they’re burning a little too fast. Ren claps for Satoru, as his father takes off the matches from the cake.

“I guess I get the biggest piece since I blew out the fire.” Satoru says, which makes a frown appear on Ren’s face.

“He is right, plus you already got a taste of it.” You join in, and Ren crosses his arms.

“It’s my birthday!” He makes sure to remind the two of you, which makes you chuckle. 

“It’s also your dad’s birthday, you said it yourself.” You say, and Ren begins to get upset so you decide to drop it. You don’t want to tease him too much tonight. You reach over and kiss his cheek before saying, “Let me go get a plate and a knife so I can give my baby boy the biggest piece of cake.”

“I’ll go with you.” Satoru gets Ren off his lap, not wanting for you to spend too much time looking for plates. And maybe he wants to be able to talk to you one on one, especially since he didn’t get the chance to look at the present you gave him.

“You know that leaving Ren with the cake is a bad idea.” You tell Satoru as he follows behind you. He knows that it’s a horrible idea, but if Ren wants to eat the whole cake, he’s more than welcome to. The cake is for him and for nobody else, he can eat it all on his own if it’s what his little heart desires.

“I have a question.” Satoru changes the topic, and you hum. “I didn’t get to see what you got me and now I’m curious.”

“Why don’t you just wait until you get home?” You suggest and Satoru pouts. Maybe the fact that he blew out the five matches has some sort of meaning, he and Ren share one age.

“I’m probably not going back tonight. C’mon, just tell me!” Satoru insists, and you roll your eyes. You’re searching for the plates, and it’d be more helpful if he actually guided you to where the plates were. Your task would be easier if the house didn’t have nearly a hundred cabinets in the kitchen. 

“Help me find the plates and I’ll answer.” You respond, and Satoru sighs before walking over and opening the cabinet for the plates. He won’t take them out until you give him the answer. “Fine. Before my mom left your house, she stole something from you and I’m giving it back.”

“What did she steal?” Satoru’s curiosity just sparked. Your mother isn’t a thief, he knows that she isn’t, so what could she possibly take?

“You remember that music box your parents got for you when you were a baby?” You tell him, and his brows perk up before he nods. “My mom snuck into your room and stole it when she found out I was pregnant. Told me my son will inherit something from his father, and it was that. Ren doesn’t care for it anymore, so you might as well have it back.”

“Really? I was going crazy looking for it. I swore my mom threw it away.” Satoru answers, and you almost feel bad for taking it. But listening to the lullaby was the only way your baby Ren would fall asleep. “I don’t need it back, if Ren has had it this whole time then I’m happy I lost it.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what else to get you since you have pretty much everything.” You respond, and Satoru can’t blame you since it’s true. Satoru has everything a man can ask for… Well almost everything.

“Give me a kiss.” The words blurt out of his mouth, and your eyes grow wide. “Since you claim I have everything. That’s the one thing I don’t have.”

“Tell me why I should kiss you?” You put a hand on your hip, and he sticks out his bottom lip.

“It’s my birthday.” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes again. 

“If I wasn’t in the delivery room, I would’ve been convinced you somehow reproduced with yourself.” You mutter before walking over and kissing his cheek. You know he meant more, but he’s not getting more. Either way, it makes his cheeks turn pink because it’s been a while since he’s felt your lips on any part of his skin. 

The air suddenly becomes thick, and you have to take a deep breath. Before you can speak about it, you decide to change the topic, “Your house is nice by the way, when are you moving in?”

“It’s not mine, it’s yours. I bought it for you.” He answers as he finally grabs the plates that he was withholding. You freeze in your spot, trying to think about the words that he just said. Is he serious? Did you hear right?

“What do you mean mine?” You question, and he’s fighting back a smirk. He kisses the tip of your nose as an extra gift for himself. He begins to walk away and you yell his name, “Satoru! What do you mean?”

“This is your house!” He yells, before completely leaving you alone in the kitchen. You stand dumbfounded, unsure of what to say to him.

You look around the big kitchen, slowly taking it all in. This is your house.

[biolumien]

Hi Hi! first time requesting like this and I just recently finished watching the latest episode of Kaiju number 8. I was wondering if your could write something for Vice Captain Hoshina.

I was thinking something along the lines of a reincarnation storyline? Maybe Reader is a renowned painter or something. And one day they come across a dream of Hoshina in their past life and they paint his face. And Hoshina is suddenly bombarded by a few officers/cadets a few days later about a sudden article blowing up online with a painting that had extremely similar structure to his face. And maybe they'd end up meeting because of it?

I love your writing. Particularly the one with the glasses reader that I read a few days back. You're free to change things as you see fit. And I'm sure whatever you come up with will be very nice. Sorry if my words are confusing. I don't speak english language that well. 😊👌 Thank you if you decide to write for this ask.

notes: ok the way i am. actually obsessed with this i hope you enjoy!!

every 'one line' drawn.

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings, i think wc: 1768

in your dreams, you always see the same face. red eyes watching your face, purple hair framed over his face and the feeling of a callused hand on your hand, on your cheek. and every time he leans into kiss you, you find yourself pressing your face closer to his, as if desperate, and then you wake up. 

and when you wake up, you always feel the telltale trickle of a tear down your face, the feeling of salt on your tongue. 

there’s no time to wonder what the dreams ever mean, what with your job as a painter. you lived commission to commission—and while your customers were always high brow and paid generously, still meant that you couldn’t be lost in daydreams forever. 

and in your studio, with the pungent smell of turpentine and linseed oil, with your hands inevitably smeared with oil paints, it was easy to forget the stranger whose hands felt rough and weary, and yet held your face with measured gentleness. it was easy to forget him—up until you went back to bed, and you’d always be back in the same dream. 

“i keep seeing you,” you murmur in your dream. “who are you?” 

the man laughs. 

he seems sad, for a second. 

“a dear friend,” he responds. you see it on his face, the way his lips twist at his words, that it’s not quite true. and he leans in again, watching your face. “it’s okay if you don’t remember me.” 

“but i do,” you say in protest. you think you remember this face. “i want to.” 

you must remember this face, surely—this face that, upon your words, looks sadder. and then you wonder if he’s even real—or if this is simply your subconscious, saddened that you can’t remember. saddened that your mind replays this moment, again and again, a repeated brushstroke pulling open the blank canvas underneath. 

“we all want things we can’t have, sometimes,” the man says. 

he leans into kiss you, 

and you jolt up out of bed, awakening to a phone call from your manager. 

“hello…?” you mumble into your phone, pressing it against your cheek as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “it’s rare you call me randomly like this…” 

“tis no random call,” your manager responds. “you’ve received a request to exhibit some of your works from a museum. will you do it? i hear the pay’s pretty good.”

“mmm… any specific theme?” you ask. 

“not really. they said to let your imagination go wild.” 

“hm.” 

you touch your lips, and when you close your eyes, you see a hint of those crimson eyes again. 

“alright. i think i’ve got a pretty good muse this time,” you say. 

[…]

hoshina wasn’t exactly someone who was very in the know about art. his job, for one, meant that it’s not like he would exactly be interested in art in general, and it’s not like he was even spending his days off on art museum trips or admiring the local art scene. 

so why was it that everyone seemed all abuzz about art today?

and why did it seem like there were more eyes on him than before? not that he particularly abhorred attention or anything, but the eyes seemed to be looking at his face specifically. 

his eyes flit to some of the new officer recruits—iharu, reno, kafka… fuck, even haruichi and aoi? what the hell was going on—huddled around a laptop. haruichi’s brow furrows as he stares at the illuminated screen, and then flits up to look at hoshina. when hoshina stares back, harder, haruichi’s gaze immediately ducks back to the laptop.  

okay. 

well, something was definitely up. 

hoshina strolls over to the recruits, who immediately seem to start panicking—the panic is written across kafka’s face more obviously than the others, and reno elbows kafka in the side. 

“what’s all this about? if you’ve got time to huddle you’ve got time to run laps—” hoshina starts, leaning over at the screen before—

“about that, vice captain,” iharu says. 

hoshina’s in stunned silence staring at the screen, because… isn’t that—

“holy shit,” hoshina says. 

“holy shit indeed,” haruichi says grimly. 

on haruichi’s laptop screen is a painting of— him. hoshina’s damned face, brows gentle and a softened smile on his face. it was a beautiful painting, and yet—there was something sad about the smile, the brows belying deep sorrow. 

“this painter’s pretty well-known, too, aren’t they?” kafka asks. “for like… the psychedelic stuff.” 

“no,” reno says. “they’re like our modern-day monet or something. impressionist paintings.” 

“impressi-what? how do you know this much about art, reno?” iharu asks, wrapping his arm around reno’s neck in a headlock. reno coughs, slapping iharu’s arm. 

“shut up,” reno chokes out, but even as the bickering picks up, hoshina’s gaze is still transfixed on the painting. 

it’s him. no doubt about it. 

“i’ve never talked to them before,” hoshina says after a moment. at once the arguments rattle to a halt, but in the empty relief of silence is the carved truth—that the painting is definitely of him, and its painter was a person who he’d never talked to before in his life. 

“the artist is going to be doing a panel about their exhibition soon,” haruichi says, glancing up at hoshina. “i think they can get me a ticket if i ask.” 

“… just don’t expect me to lighten your laps around the training course,” hoshina says with a chuckle. 

[…]

you hated speaking in front of an audience. cliche, of course, the introverted artist that squirrels away in in their studio—but that was often your reality. you liked to say you wanted your work to ‘speak for itself’, as it were, so you didn’t often make public appearances. 

but your most recent exhibition, featuring the painting of your mysterious dream visitor, created far more buzz than you could have asked for. suddenly everyone and anyone wanted an answer as for who your muse was, why he had a very striking resemblance to soshiro hoshina of the japan anti-kaiju defense force’s third division, and had you gotten permission from hoshina to do it? did you have a specific message surrounding your work?

“just stick to the script,” your manager says to you. “i talked it through with some of the reporters and i wrote some answers for you if you’re scared.” he hands you a slip of paper, and your eyes scan the page, and you swallow the lump in forming in your throat. 

“i shouldn’t have done the painting after all,” you say.

it was strange. in the days and weeks you’d worked on the painting, you hadn’t seen your muse in your dreams at all. you’d been forced to rely on only the memory of the dream–which only seemed to get fuzzier and fuzzier until it became barely a wisp. and now, in those ensuing weeks that the painting has been on exhibition, you almost felt embarrassed of the painting–its vague subject matter might have been charming and a little kitsch, but charming and a little kitsch wasn’t supposed to garner this much attention.

“nonsense,” your manager says. “it’s a wonderful painting.” he pushes you by the back, gently urging you forward. “they’re ready for you.”

you push past the door separating you from the reporters–and then are immediately flashbanged with cameras and lights, and jumbling, layered voices creating a discordant symphony that made you wince.

“um. thank you… for…” you wince as your grip fumbles on your microphone, nearly dropping it, the feedback screeching across speakers. “um. sorry. i’m not exactly the best public speaker–my repertoire of events… like this, isn’t many. but thank you for attending this panel… surrounding my exhibition of my latest work. i’ll answer… a few questions.”

the reporters looked like a jumbled blob for the most part–a thrumming organism of similar faces that melted together into one homogenous mess, a splotch of badly-mixed paint on the palette that you’d scrape away with a knife and discard. 

reciting your manager’s written responses wasn’t the hard part. as you continued to banter, your eyes swept across the crowd.

what were you even doing here?

you wanted to crawl back to your studio, already, and go back to painting. at least then the idea that you’d dreamed up some man who bore a striking resemblance to someone who already existed would fade away with time. and then your eyes found that telltale shade of crimson and purple–for just a moment. and you think his eyes meet yours, too–crimson eyes the exact shade as the one in your dreams. 

his eyes widen. 

“... as you were saying?” a reporter’s words float back to your ears, ephemeral, and you pause.

“can we… no more questions.” you shake your head, finding your vision swimming, blurring, and you raise a hand wiping tears from your face. “sorry. something just… came up–”

and you push into the crowd, trying to find the face from your dreams.

that had to be him, right? his face? it was like as soon as you saw him, the underpainting of your memories flowed back to you–a heartaching loss pounding in your chest. something was wrong. something was missing, because you’d forgotten–and now that you’d remembered it, it hurt. 

“i’m sorry,” you say. 

“you’ve nothing to be sorry for,” the man says to you, and leans in to kiss you. “i’ll find you again in the next life.”

“i’ll remember you,” you say. 

the man watches you, a somewhat sad look on his face.

you press your thumb to the corner of his lip.

“and when i do, i’ll do something big. to capture your attention. and then your eyes will be on me forever.”

you finally manage to catch the man in the crowd, and you realize you’ve seen him before. only once or twice, though–on a small poster or on television. soshiro hoshina, of the third division. you did know this man–but just barely.

he lets out a surprised noise as soon as you collide with him, and you gasp breathlessly. 

“i’m sorry,” you say, looking up at hoshina. “i just… have we…”

“met?” hoshina answers your question, cocking his head, blinking down at you.

“yes,” you say. “i think… i think so. maybe. we… you look familiar.”

hoshina blinks, and then smiles.

it’s so different than the way he smiled at you in your dream. the corners of his lips quirk up, his eyebrows relax almost as he watches you. 

“i thought so too,” hoshina says, and you hear relief in his voice. “so… um. hi.”

“hi,” you respond, and he laughs.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

You don’t need a skincare beauty routine at all if you don’t want one. 

Of course you need to wash your face at least semi-regularly, just like you need to wash the rest of your body (for hygiene and health - washing germs, sweat and dirt off), and you need to put on sunscreen at least on days where you’ll be outside and there’s an UV index of 3 or higher (for skin cancer prevention). But apart from that? You don’t really NEED to do anything at all. 

Certain beauty influencers and companies will try hard to tell you otherwise but, really, you will not die, the world will not implode, the birds will not stop singing.

Or in slightly more realistic worries: You can live a fulfilling life and be a whole adult, even if you never become the kind of person who religiously does ten steps of skincare every morning. 

You won’t even necessarily have horribly-looking skin without a skincare routine. („horrible“ is a very subjective term when it comes to beauty anyway, and much of what we are taught to think of as horrible is simply the beauty industry pushing a beauty standard that is purposefully unreachable, so you’ll keep buying their products). Think about it: for every person who swears by their 25-step-routine, you’ll find someone who swears by their nothing-but-sunscreen routine - and they’ll both have beautiful skin. Clearly, healthy skin isn’t achieved by any one specific product or routine, otherwise there wouldn’t be that many different products or routines being promoted!

All this is not to say that routines are meaningless. Many people find something in their skincare routine that actually has little to do with skin: regular routines provide stability and comfort. It can be a beautiful moment of calmness before you start the day. Doing the same thing before bedtime every night can help your brain switch into sleep mode more easily. Skincare can be a good way to integrate some pleasant touch and sensory experiences into your daily life. Skincare (different ingredients and what they do etc.) can be a fascinating topic to learn about. Trying a new product can be something exciting to look forward to. And so on, and so forth! 

But none of that changes the simple truth: if you don’t want to have a skincare routine, it’s okay to just not have one. No matter if it’s something like “I’d like one, I just don’t have the energy/ motivation/ headspace/ money/ freedom to build one right now” or “I struggle too much with forming reliable habits to stick to one routine for a longer time” or “Skincare makes me uncomfortable because of gender dysphoria/ sensory overload/ etc.” or if it’s just “I don’t feel like it”  or “I find skincare boring” - it’s okay to not have a routine. Use your sunscreen when necessary and call it a day. You’ll be fine. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[bougiebutchbitch]

Friend: why do you ship G1 Megastar

Me: oh, easy! It's a toxic, codependent, fucked-up-but-fairly-equal relationship between two terrible people! That's my whole jam.

Friend: okay so why do you ship tfp Megastar?

Me: well...

Look - first off, shipping doesn't mean 'viewing in a romantic light'. It means 'oh my god these guys have an interesting dynamic and so much history. I want them to divorce and never see each other again, and for both of them to heal and grow separately - but I also want Starscream to brutally murder Megatron because that would be cathartic for me, personally'

Tfp Megastar is blatant abuse - flavoured with hints that they Used To Be Something, only their once-noble ideals were warped by the war! Megatron fell back into the cycle of abuse and violence he's been trapped in his whole life - since he was a literal slave! Starscream is his favourite victim.

But because he and Megatron had very different coping mechanisms when facing abuse and brutality, Megatron feels justified in looking down on Starscream for fawning and freezing rather than fighting back.

(hell, a part of Megatron wishes Starscream would fight back because in his mind that would be Growth for his cowardly little lieutenant, even if Megatron would just fucking annihilate him. Meanwhile, Starscream knows he's brutally outmatched, which is why he begs and sobs and pleads because it's literally his only option from his perspective. A survival tactic is a survival tactic is a survival tactic; one is not morally superior to another. But try telling Megatron that, lol)

There were good times but they DO NOT make up for the horrific bad times. But there were still good times, y'know?

Anyway, Starscream continued the abuse cycle to a lesser degree with Knock Out and the drones (and later the Predacons), because he cannot conceive of any other way to be Powerful. He is so fucking insecure and has internalised a lot of the way Megatron talks to him as being true, even if outwardly he projects a narcissistic self-obsessed veneer of confidence.

BUT HE STILL ABUSES OTHERS JUST LIKE MEGATRON WHENEVER HE GETS THE CHANCE! LET'S NOT PRETEND OTHERWISE!!! THAT'S STILL VERY MUCH A THING!

Anyway. Things change for the better! Starscream walks the fuck away because he's sick and tired of being Megatron's punching bag!

It just... doesn't last.

He can't build a life for himself in part because he has 0 support network, but also because he's a self-obsessed neurotic bastard (whether as a survival tactic where he's learnt for so long that it's safest to only care for himself, or because he's just a trashy person, ymmv). He fails at meshing into the Autobots even as a Neutral.

So he goes back to Megatron and begs for another chance.

He gives up on all hopes of being anything but Megatron's lackey for him to smack about as he sees fit - but Megatron also stops hitting him? He seems to realise that treating Starscream that way was just fucking him up???

Of course, this doesn't mean things are miraculously fixed, or that the abusive dynamic is broken. It isn't even the typical 'honeymoon phase' you see in abusive relationships. It's... worse.

Because Starscream is desperate for Megatron's acknowledgement and respect. With every snub from Megatron, he fucks up more in his panicked scrabble to Prove Himself Worthy. Although he proves his competence on occasion, he doesn't get anywhere near enough appreciation to fill that BLATANT gaping hole within him that's sooooo desperate to be seen and loved, and still obviously feels very precarious and paranoid in his position within the Decepticons.

But like. Megatron does protect him from Dreadwing. And I suspect Starscream reads a bit too much into that, believing that their Bad Times are behind them and he finally has Megatron's respect.

(Which. No. But from an abuse survivor's standpoint, clinging to scraps to paint a shinier picture of your relationship... hahaha relatable right????)

Anyway - then they reach the final battle.

Megatron fucking dies.

And Starscream is screaming and clawing and trying desperately to reach him - the monster who hurt him more than anyone else, who stood with him in the burning ruins of an Autobot base and smiled at him like he was proud! Starscream has to be physically carried away by an ally to stop him running to Megatron's corpse!

ONLY WHOOPS, SPOKE TO SOON.

MEGATRON IS REVIVED BY THE ROBOT DEVIL. After which he... basically treats Starscream like he's entirely inconsequential. They defeat the robot devil, and Megs gives some shitty speech about Losing His Taste For Tyranny - but hardly fucking looks at Starscream, the guy who was literally shaped by that tyranny, before jetting off to space to live Happily Ever After

Leaving Starscream. Fuming. Furious.

He flies off alone to continue the Decepticon legacy - because how could Megatron walk away after everything? After everything he's done to their species? To their world? To Starscream?

Only he's not as alone as he thought.

Starscream finds himself facing three vengeful Predacons, who he spent the earlier season treating like shit in a direct parallel of how Megatron treated him. And they tear him apart while he screams and sobs and begs to be spared. Just like he used to beg Megatron.

Sooooo yeahhhhh all of this has been living rent-free in my head since I was like, 13 lol

Friend:

[ganondoodle]

okay, bc i have seen this argument alot now (and it also seems to be the view point of aonuma himself..) is that "zelda cant do everything link does bc whats the point then"

and i take personal offense on that bc its a stupid argument (in. my. very. personal. opinion.- not judging people for liking it. its a ME thing)

whats the point? its that its her. its still a different character, different in story, background, personality, but i WANT to play zelda and she can do everything link does, why does she have to be so restricted and be bend over backwards to find some new way to make her 'useful' when link gets to do basically everything no questions asked (the only thing thats hers is like .. sealing power and sacrificial maiden, which i find a little underwhelming to say the least), if theres no point to it why are there always modders that model swap link with someone else, and in that case it has even less impact bc its an artificial model swap with no changes to the story (which can and should still be different when its the vanilla game with a different protagonist... its still a different character), clearly theres joy in just the model being a different one- and that isnt even to mention the story possibilities, since, again, its stil a different character

if we ever (never ... i know who we are talking about here) get to play as ganondorf i want to him to be just as versatile and active as link is, if we got a point and click adventure game for him instead bc 'whats the point' id be disappointed too- you can find any sort of excuse/explanation for zelda to be singled out but the fact remains it tracks with how female characters are often treated, and that hits a very sore spot for me

i guess i am unfortunately one of those annoying people that want to see female characters be treated exactly the same as male characters, possibly bc i am myself afab but identify as agender and have a deeply personal dislike for anything 'traditional' feminine bc i cannot and never will be able to truly live as myself in real life, it influences all of my work, my work is as just as much as my opinion on this, very personal

and in line with my point about modding, i see theres joy in just beign able to play as her even if its like this, i get that, i also get it for the creative aspect (though that mechanic worries me even more for the future bc it really seems to be the path now that -freedom = good, linear anything = bad-) it is a different idea and its not like i cant see that value- im not trying be "right" either, just bc i have that opinion doesnt mean i need everyone to agree, its a very personal thing, if you like it good for you! not for me though, and i think both of that is equally valid

i just personally wish she was allowed to be just like link, fight just like him but be different bc its still her and not him in the end- to be physically/playstyle like jsut like him, but you know ... as her, i dont think shed stop being zelda if she could wield a sword just like him

i dont really know how to get my point/feelings across, i dont want to step too much into personal stuff nor spam people with something that ultimately doesnt interest me alot, im just saddened by it really

(EDIT: bc i forgot to add this on here again; this isnt as much of a problem as it might sound like here, just the main topic i wanted to talk about; why im so uninterested in it is MAINLY bc i dont trust them to write anything interesting/care about lore anymore after totk, im always on the more pessimistic side that thinks its most likely worse than id hope and i know even the past games arent perfect or super interestingly written, but now its much more just a general distrust, together with everything like the price ... im just much less hopeful and cant get excited until i see more of it, like im waiting for the game to get out and reveal that its just as much of a mess and money i regret spending- kind of fear)

[darkness-follows]

hey! i love your writing! there’s so little for Boyd x reader out there, so if you’re up for it could you maybe write something for him? maybe a little hurt/comfort and smutty?? he’s such a weirdo and i love him sm

thank you! and have a nice day :)

Thank you, thank you !!!! And of course!!! I hope the changes I made and the idea it turned into still all work for this !

Boyd x Female Reader

I'm still not over the end of City Primeval because it was so perfect and makes up for how in my opinion the other 7 episodes were a bit of a tough chew. Not bad! But not fantastic either.. but still, consider giving it a watch especially for the end of episode 8 for this mini multi part fic might spoil some things!!!!

It hurts so good aka a Justified: City Primeval sequal to the OG show with older Boyd and a Prison Guard reader who falls madly in love with him.

TW: Blood. Wounds. Prison stuff. Smut (cavity/strip search). Gross other prisoners.

Enjoy PART 1:

First day on the Job. A Female prison Guard in a men only Penitentiary, it takes a lot to stomach everything, the comments, the looks, the disgusting things prisoners say to you. But you prepared for this, you got trained for this and hell you will make the best of it! You get to meet the non violent prisoners first, the ones who aren't arrested for rape or torture or anything of that kind. It's also the first time you meet Boyd Crowder. Your family being from Harlan Kentucky you heard some stories..

You know of him, but not a whole lot about him.

Though mistakes happen in prison especially on a first day. Your partner accidentally left you alone with Boyd and another prisoner in the back of the kitchen. And men who were locked up for a long time...don't exactly behave the best towards a young, pretty attractive new Guard. "Didn't know they hire models" the prisoner says, it's a mild start but it gets worse and worse. Until he makes a move towards you, he grabs your wrist and tries to pull your hand towards his crotch "let go! Let go of me!!" You try to pull away but he's twice your size.

You hear a loud bang and all of a sudden the prisoner has his eyes snapped on Crowder.

"Jerry! That ain't how we treat women now is it? You better confess what you've done if you wish to sleep in peace tonight" Boyd turns to take the man's shoulder, guiding him slowly out of the kitchen. "You don't want any suprise visits tonight do you Jerry?" He whispers before he shoves him out of the kitchen.

Shaking his head "I'm sorry about that, some of em really don't know how to behave. You okay?" He asks and when your eyes meet his it's almost..magnetic. "hm? Oh! Yeah! Yes thank you, I was ready to get that taser out" You huff.

"Oh please there is no need to thank me, I'm sorry your first day went like that, I sincerely hope one bad Apple doesn't spoil the whole bunch for you now. There are some good men in this place." He points out. The way he speaks and the methaphor.. you heard he has a certain charm to him but seeing it in real life, hearing his buttery accent and the way he carries himself despite the orange prison attire? He's a bit Interesting..

"I'm known to hand out a few chances" You smile and open up the knife drawer with your keys. Your duty is to observe their cooking and Crowder was listed as green when it comes to kitchen supplies such as knives.

"Gotta admit I might be the same way, Lord knows I've been giving away chances like free candy" He takes one of the bigger kitchen knives to start cutting the vegetables Jerry was supposed to take care of. The way he keeps looking over his shoulder at you to talk makes you feel a certain kind of warmth. He's really making sure to adress you respectfully, keeping eye contact and not looking you up and down like the rest of em in this place.

"Well, thanks again Crowder." You nod. Keeping it professional.

🕐

2 weeks into a new job and it's safe to say that you adjusted well, you know who to trust and who to get along with, which prisoners are the nice kind and which ones are the bad. This place works like a perfectly oiled machine, everything is time based and the system of the prison works. You shouldn't have a favorite prisoner but this Crowder guy doesn't seem too bad. You've been through his file a little, it's a hefty record for a man who seems so nice and collected. You also stumbled across some pictures of an injury he got inside.

Graphic pictures of a mean looking burn on his upper arm, investigation showed second degree burns to apparently scorch a hateful Tattoo off of his skin. Ouch. Yet no agressor is listed, apparently, he wouldn't say who did it to him. It was his first week of kitchen duty too.

You see Crowder again in the kitchen, it's easy for New Guards to be posted at Lunch and dinner. Observe everything.

"You've got to try this! For prison chow it really is somethin' " Crowder points out, stirring a pot.

You hesitate at first but you are pretty sure he wouldn't try and poison you. Not like this anyways. "I don't know If..- I'm allowed to" You frown but with a smile. Though no other guards are around so maybe it's fine. The smile on his face when you step closer is almost sweet, he takes a spoon and puts some of the food onto it, holding it out to you. You don't even really think about it when you open your mouth and your lips move around the spoon that he's holding. Too distracted by the taste.

"Wow!" You huff suprised, chewing slowly. "That really is good" How on earth does prison food taste better than the food at your own table at home?

"You like it? It's a old Crowder family recipe. It's easy to make but got quite the kick to it!" He throws you another rather off putting smile, why is he so nice? You read his file you know he's not violent for no reason but it's still a bit unusual.

"Yeah I do like it! You gotta give me that recipe" You take a few steps back again, licking your lips softly. That was really tasty.

"Is that an order, Guard?" He asks, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel and turning to face you. The tension in the room is suddenly different, heated, you don't know what he's getting at but it's best to put a cork in it, now.

"No?" You question. "Now get back to work" .

"That was an order" You tease.

His chuckle rings in your ears for a moment, you really do have a strange relationship with him.

🕒

Its not unusual to play favorites in a place like this but you and Crowder became..close. It's been a month now for you in Kentucky's Tramble Penitentiary. Everytime you interact with Boyd you laugh, you smile, he smiles, it really feels like you starting to develop a crush. Which is bad. Biggest rule in the game. Don't fuck the inmates. Ever. Cooking duty for him means you can always watch him fix up something nice for the other inmates. He really always takes his time, he always makes it great.

Up until today.

"God! Fuckin' damn it!" You hear Boyd curse loudly and when you rush to the kitchen to take a look you can see blood. Your hand moves to your taser.

"Easy! Didn't stab nobody, just cut myself, the fucking cucumber slipped off the board." He holds his fingers and you can see blood slowly running down his hand and arm. Luckily you have some mild medical training.

You radio in the incident and your current Boss gives the clear, your allowed to take care of the injury and put someone else on cooking duty.

You swap out inmates and a coworker takes over the Observation while you take Crowder to the small medicial room at the end of the hallway. A own room for minor things so they don't all end up clogging up the only Hospital wing in the entire prison.

But you've never been in this area or this room before and suddenly it dawns on you, you are new and your alone here with a prisoner known for Manipulation tactics. The fear becomes reality when you finally take a closer look at his injury. No way in hell was that an accidental cut, the placement is way off.

"What's the plan Boyd? Jump me. Take my keycard, my taser, make your way out the back?" You huff.

You hope you are wrong but when he starts to chuckle you can feel your stomach turn.

"No darlin' not quite." He points out.

"God and here I was thinking you weren't like the other's" your hand reaches for your Radio again to call it in when he's suddenly a few steps too close.

"It ain't like that" Boyd takes another step closer.

"Come one now, you need me to spell it out for you?" His voice...his smile.. he's...- is he trying to seduce you?!

"What? Yes. I think you do" your hand leaves off the radio.

"We have been dancin' around reach other for a month now, as nice of a dance as it was, you wanna leap off that stage now don't you? See the Real Deal." He suggests.

You can't help but to burst into a soft laughter "You think I want to sleep with you???" You shake your head and turn away from him, grabbing some rubbing alcohol and a Band aid for his self inflicted dumb cut.

"I don't just think so, I know so" He points out. Stepping behind you while you gather the supplies.

"Your crazy. I really underestimated your Level of crazy. Now give me that hand and then I'll take you back to your cell" You chuckle again. Staring at him when you turn around and he holds up the cut in his hand. Your hands tremble while you pour the alcohol onto a cottonball. Taking his hand into yours, cleaning the cut and then the rest of the blood from his hand and arm. His fingers, his breathing.. He takes another step forward and you take one back. Feeling the wall against your back, shaky hands trying to hold still while you slap the band aid onto his wound. Once that's done his hand closes around yours.

"You mean it? I've been imagining things... you don't want me?" He tries to confirm that he actually might have been wrong about you.

But you can't help it, you let his hand take yours.

Your hesitation speaks volumes.

Your hand presses against his chest, but he leans in to kiss you anyways. His lips are so gentle, so careful, he's not aggressive or demanding. It's almost sweet if you don't think about the fact that this could get you fired and that having a crush or fling with him won't work. Because at the end of the day he's in here and you are out there.

You break the soft kiss with a sigh.

"No..- I don't want to sleep with you, now take a step back Crowder" You raise your shoulders, making yourself a bit taller.

He nods. And he does.

"Apparently im off my game, it's been a while" He frowns. "I deeply apologize." He keeps his head down for a moment.

He genuinely seems sad. As if he can't believe he made such a mistake.

"Your not off your game." You finally say. "Imma have to get a uh, a transfer I think, to another ward, having feelings for an inmate is unacceptable."

His head lifts up slowly.

"Here I was thinkin' all these little things were signs you wanted my flesh. But it aint just that huh?" The smile on his face makes you roll your eyes. "You like me" He grins. "Shut up" You groan.

"As in, a little crush! Or a big crush? Good Lord! Are you in love with me?!" Now he's just being mean.

"I said shut up!" You chuckle.

And then he hugs you.

You expected everything but that...

His arms around you feel so strangely comforting, you know this is wrong, you read his charges, you know very well why he's in here and yet here you are, in his damn arms. Your hands are hesitant, but slowly you stroke your palm over his back and your other holds onto his upper arm, where you feel the scar tissue underneath your finger tips.

"Why did you never tell who did this to you?" You ask, hand soothing over the uneven skin. It's a really bad burn scar, thick and leathery almost in it's texture.

He slowly lets go of your frame, placing his palm onto your face. "Cause I did that myself." He tugs a piece of your hair behind your ear before his lips place a kiss onto your head. "They woulda thrown me into isolation for it, marked me up as a danger to myself, couldn't risk that...-" He adds. Taking a step back then.

"Why did you do it? Apart from the obvious.." your skin feels on fire, you want more, your lips are dying for a kiss that takes your breath away and your hands are aching for a body to cling to.

"Form of self punishment, I guess." Incredible how sane and yet insane such a Statement sounds, you kind of understand. Pointing to his hand "And you did that to sleep with me?" You huff. It's a strange way to go about things, that's for sure.

"Well, had to get you alone somehow didn't I?" His face changes when he looks at you a little while longer, taking a deep breath. "But I gotta admit, this was quite the suprise, might be even been better than a simple, fleeting, lustful exchange. I deeply honor that you.. care about a man such as myself." He likes it, he wouldn't have it any other way actually.

"Doesn't matter much does it? Not like there is anything to be build here" The alarm starts blasting which means Lunch is over and it's back to the cells.

He missed Lunch for you.

You take a hold of his shoulder to walk him back to his cell, his cellmate not being there yet you step inside for a second.

"Don't request a transfer.." He whispers. "Seeing your face every day for the last month while cooking has been the happiest I have been in a while, don't take that from me, please." He seems really sincere.

You nod "Okay." Then you leave his cell.

Fuck, you can't believe you have a crush and that he kissed you, and that he hugged you, hell he even knicked himself with that knife to get to be alone with you and then also asked to not stop seeing you everyday.

Falling for an inmate was not on your list, especially not THE Boyd Crowder.

🕔

Fights happen very very often in tight spaces like these with a bunch of criminals. Unfortunately Crowder was in the room where it happend, which means by the damn book, strip search. Someone could be hiding a self made knive, razorblade glued to a toothbrush..hide drugs.. anything.

"Crowder. Room 3." The guard yells, FUCK. You were hoping he'd be called to a different room, you change your gloves from the last inmates search, leaning against the medical shelf when he steps inside. The instant smirk on his face makes you flush Red.

"Well ain't that somethin' , guess it's your lucky day" He closes the door and takes off his shoes. Not his first strip and not your first search but.. this is pretty damn intimate. Even if you try to not treat it that way, you like him, and he knows you like him, and now you get to do a body search on him? It might really be your lucky damn day.

"Hey now! Im a pro" You wiggle your gloved fingers.

"I bet you are darlin' " He steps closer, opening the buttons on his orange prison jumper. The reveal of his chest and his shoulders is already pretty nice to see but when he drops it lower and you get to see his abs and his hips and his V line it's starting to get steamy in the room. He Strips the jumper and stands in his white boxershorts.

"Don't you worry now, I think I'd be quite alright with a bit of touching" He clicks his tongue, taking off his boxers. And Jesus christ. Seems like Boyd Crowder isn't just all talk, he really got the package to back it up. Good for him!

"You are staring" He comments.

"No! What? Im not! Turn around" You huff, watching him turn around and place his hands against the wall. Fuck, this shouldn't be so damn hot.

"Bend uh, bend over...you know how this goes come on Boyd" You sigh.

His chuckle makes your head spin, you really didn't think this would happen today. But you got a job to do, it's not like you don't trust him but .. you have to do this right?

You take a deep breath before you step behind him, patting down his hair first, armpits, his hips, people get creative. Some even hide blades in their own damn skin. When your hands move to his pretty nice butt you hesitate.

"Oh come on now sweetheart. Ain't my first rodeo. Let's go" He huffs. You nod. Taking the lube from the medical cabinet, you hands spread his buttcheeks apart, when you don't see or feel anything it's time for the uncomfortable finger. You apply enough lube and with a soothing hand on his hip you gently push a finger inside of him.

You don't take him for the type to shove drugs up his damn ass but this is simply part of the job. Of course you don't feel anything so you move to take your finger away again but then he..moans.

A long deep right out of his lungs kind of moan.

You move your finger slowly again in the same motion and his body tightens. "You uh, you okay?" You ask.

He nods. Which is not a yes and not no to you.

"Bit sensitive are we Crowder?" You ask and you could swear to god that he pushes back against your hand. "I think I have to be really thorough here." You slowly push a second finger inside of him.

"Fuck...-" He moans deeply.

"I'm so sorry!" You panic a bit.

"No your fine..- just god please don't stop".

"Don't stop what? That?" You move your fingers the way you did before again and again..- getting a bit deeper each time. His head is resting on the arm that's holding him against the wall, you can tell he's breathing faster, his skin is flush. Someone likes a bit of a prostate massage.. Interesting.

Boyd's breathing sounds so insanely erotic, you never heard a man make these noises before.

His other hand spreads him open a bit, watching your fingers move in and out of him. You never thought you'd be into that but? The way he sounds so broken by how good it feels? The fact that it makes him feel so good makes you feel good in return. That's all that matters right?

You step closer to him, placing a gentle kiss onto his back while your free hand reaches around him. Stroking over his Rock hard cock.

"Good lord, Ain't that some kind of abuse of Power?" He comments but he likes it, he could easily make you stop if he wanted to. Looking at you with big desperate beautiful eyes.

"You wanna file a complaint?" You kiss his shoulder and his back again. His hips starting to meet your pace is incredible.

"Phew aren't you all wound up, how long has it been Boyd? Since you felt a womans touch? Soft lips against your skin, delicate hand around your cock?" You whisper and it feels as if he's crumbling at your words. All desperate and defeated. That certainly is a new look for Boyd Crowder.

"Too long way too long" He breathes out.

"Am I doing a good job?" You ask hopeful.

"The best..." his voice is dripping with something sweet, he sounds so thankful.

When you push your fingers into him harder you can feel his hips shiver. He likes it a little rough too apparently.

You keep the stronger pace of your fingers, hand stroking his cock in the same motion.

The orgasm you get to witness is stunning, breathtaking. He tries to swallow his moans but his body clenches around your fingers and his cock throbs in your hand while rows of cum spray the wall in front of him. It's easy to tell without a vocal Orchestra that he really enjoyed himself. Carefully letting go of him and taking your gloves off.

"God damn Baby." He chuckles when he turns around.

He picks up his clothes and gets dressed again fairly quickly, closing the buttons on his prison jumper. He even has the damn courtesy of taking some paper towels and cleaning up the mess he made, tossing them and washing his hands before he looks at you.

"You really have me question what we are here..." He tilts his head and you can still see the remains of a blush on his skin.

"I've never done this before, all these other guys they are so...uptight, uncomfortable, and then you come along moaning around" You huff.

"Which I never done before either!! No other guard has ever gotten me like this, I think it's more of the person, the person being a woman I rather fancy" He smirks a bit. "I bet any touch of yours would make me sing such tunes darlin' " God the charisma of this man is teeth rotting sweet.

"Your ridiculous" You comment, but you should move on now, you don't want people to question why this is taking so long.

"Ridiculousy smitten, correct." He nods.

"Go now, smitten or not this is still a crime" You nod towards the door but instead of him going both of his hands take your face. Kissing you slow and sweet before he has to let go. "Might get myself into some more trouble if that means I get to be seein' you" he winks before he opens the door.

He's such an idiot but...god you too are pretty damn smitten.

💞🕒💞🕒💞🕒💞

To be continued...

Hey thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. And I hope you are excited for more !

Tags:

@justme12200 @cat-shepard @megangovier

@ivyinthesun @catclaw12

If I wrongly tagged someone or forgot someone im super sorry !!! I gotta start making a damn list hahaha.

[darlingshane]

vicious circle

Michael Berzatto x Spanish/F!Reader

Summary: You're ready to put an end to your complicated relationship with Michael, but he's not ready to let you go.

CW: 18+, explicit, smut, angst, oral sex (f. receiving), workplace relationships, boss/employee relationship.

Word Count: 2.4k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

This is it.

You’re done with him.

You’ve said that way too many times, and each time you’ve gone back to Michael.

Today feels different.

You’ve reached your limit, and you’re not going to break or give in to his worn-out excuses. It’s time to put your foot down once and for all, or he’ll keep walking all over you.

It’s something you’ve been thinking of for a while, and you can’t keep putting it off. So, at the end of the night when he goes outside to have a smoke after closing, you take that further step and leave an envelope on his desk with your name on the back and a two weeks’ notice. You could have sent it in an email, but he hardly ever checks his account and having something physical makes it more official and imminent. You know he’s not going to miss it cause every day he sits at his desk to go over the pile of bills after closing. And it only takes him five minutes to give up and go find the closest place open to get drunk.

Michael is still in the alleyway when you return to the kitchen to finish cleaning your station along with Tina.

There’s a song playing on your phone that you propped on one of the shelves. Occasionally, you hum and mumble the lyrics that you know so well. It’s a powerful Spanish ballad from an album you grew up listening to that really rips your soul apart. It’s about his guy that’s stuck in this vicious circle with a girl that does nothing but lie to him. She’s constantly changing his mind, coming to be with him whenever she feels like it, disregarding his feelings. And he can’t do anything but take her back when she returns.

The lyrics roughly translate to – She combs and tangles my soul. She walks with me, but I don’t know where she’s going. My rival, my partner. She’s deep inside my life and at the same time she’s so out of it.

It’s the perfect song to describe your situationship with Michael. Your back and forth with Michael Berzatto is nothing but a constant headache, and you refuse to be like the guy in those lyrics and let him use you whenever he wants to.

The music changes to something more upbeat in your playlist when the song ends, and you can see Tina from the corner of your eye shyly swinging to the beat.

When Michael comes back into the kitchen, he picks up Tina’s hand and starts spinning her and dancing around with her animatedly with a big smile on his face, singing along, stirring a laugh out of her.

Every other day, he’s like a fucking black cloud sucking all the air out of the room with all his gloom and doom. But tonight, he’s in a really good mood, and you love it, cause you’re about to change that. He’s caused you so much pain that it’s only fair to take your stab at poking the bear for once.

“C’mon, that’s enough, Mikey. I gotta finish here and pick up the kid.”

He gives Tina one final spin to end the dance, and tells her to go home, that he’ll finish in the kitchen.

It wouldn’t be the first time he's done that.

The thing with Michael is that he never follows through with anything he says. He's just empty words and promises. When he says he’s going to do something for you, like cleaning your station, you’ll always return the next day to find it how you left it cause he really doesn’t give a fuck.

While she slips off his kiss-printed trademarked apron and goes to the lockers to pick up her stuff, Michael tells you that you can leave too. But you stubbornly shake your head without looking at him.

“Okay, have at it,” he scoffs and retires to the office.

You're scrubbing the surface of the stove imagining wiping that grin off his face when he opens the envelope.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, chula.” Tina says from the entrance to the kitchen.

“I won't. Buenas noches.” (Goodnight.)

“Buen-” she starts saying back but is quickly interrupted by Michael who comes out again, wearing the scowl you proudly put on his face.

“Can I see you in my office?”

“Todavía no he terminado.” (I haven't finished yet.)

“I don’t give a shit about that. Office. Now.” He orders storming back into his little cluttered room.

You glance to the side to see Tina still standing there, throwing a most puzzled look at you.

“¿Pero qué le has hecho?” (What have you done to him?)

“¿Yo? Nada.” You shrug casually. (Me? Nothing.)

“Estaba el pobre de tan buen humor. De verdad que te gusta arruinarle el día al jefe.” She says with a humorous tone. (Poor guy was in such a good mood. You really enjoy ruining the boss’ day.)

“Puto cabrón likes ruining mine,” you scoff, cleaning your hands in the sink before taking off your apron and turning off the music on your phone.

“You two are more alike than you think. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I’ll try.”

Tina finally bids you good night before leaving out the back door.

Taking in a fortifying breath, you pause for a second before crossing the doomed threshold into his office.

He's sitting on his chair, staring blankly at your notice letter.

“You're not quitting,” he says, swiveling in his seat as if you had no other choice.

You clutch your fist to keep yourself from giving up to his objection. Printing your nails on the heel of your hand reminds you to remain strong and firm in your decision.

“You're not my boss. Well, you are for a few more days, but you have no right to force me to stay.”

“You're a fucking piece of work. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“Takes one to know one. I'm just so fed up with all this shit, with you, with this fucking place…”

“What? You found a better job than this?”

“No. But I will. Why? Don't you think I can't, motherfucker?”

“Didn't say you couldn’t. I'm sure with your experience you have many better options than this, sweetheart.”

“Then, what's the problem?”

“I can't just let you go.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you practically run this place. If you leave…”

“You'd have to hire someone else to fill my position, and would have to pay them more than you can't pay me.” You finish the sentence when he trails off. “You're so full of shit, Michael. You and I both know that the only reason you won't let me go is cause you can’t handle seeing me moving on. You could just say that instead of being a coward.”

“I’m the coward? That’s rich. How many times have you said you were leaving and backtracked?”

“This time is different. You've left me no choice. I'm busting my ass here and for what? For nothing. I pick up all the slack, I do everything you refuse to do and wait, you still never thank me for it, you never even considered giving me a raise.”

“Is this about money? You know I'd pay you more if I could.”

“I don't care anymore. I'm done bailing you out and trying to save something that doesn't wanna be saved.”

“Are we talking about me or the shop now?”

“Both. I can't be working here, and have you coming and going out of my life whenever you want to. I’m sick of your games. You can't say you won't let me go and then sit all day in the middle of the kitchen, so I can hear you yapping with Richie about this girl and this other girl you screwed. You're fucking toxic, and unprofessional. I doubt anyone will ever put up with your shit for as long as I have.”

Out of frustration, you dig your nails so hard into your skin it almost stings, but it helps you keep you from breaking in the middle of that sentence.

“I didn't fuck anyone. I was just messing with you.”

“Mira,” you sigh, defeated, “you're exhausting and incredibly immature for a forty-year-old. Get your shit together. I don't care what you do, or where you stick your dick in. I'm done. Let me be done, Michael.”

“I can't.” He finally stands up to level up with you, but leans on the desk instead. “Let's work on a solution. Tell me what do I have to do for you to stay?”

“Give me a raise. Stop being an asshole. And grow up.” You enumerate sharply.

You do have a few more in your list, but those are the main three.

“I can do two out of three.”

You can't stop the urge of rolling your eyes cause you know he's pathological.

“No deal.”

“Please, don't do this. I'm begging you here. Do I need to get down on my knees?”

That'd be a first.

“Look, I promise to stay away from you, or talk shit with Richie when you're around. You won't hear anything like that again. Just… please, this will fall apart without you, mi vida. If you really need a raise I'll think of something. But give me some time. I…”

The desperation in his voice cracks your armor, and you can't help but feel sorry for him. It's that familiar feeling that doesn't let you escape his hold on you, even when you’re well versed in his bullshit and know that always promises big, but never delivers.

It's weak and fucking pathetic to see how you fall for it every time he calls you mi vida. (my life)

Your fist unclenches, letting your defenses abandon you because you're just as bound to this place and his lies as much as he is.

His posture straightens, shortening the distance between you and him. One of his hands reaches to frame your chin, and you inevitably let him hold your face, leaning on his touch, as he inches closer to capture your lips.

“Lo siento, mi vida,” he mumbles while his mouth gently bounces against yours a couple of times. “I promise I'll do better.”

“Stop promising. Just show me, Michael.”

With his hand still holding your face, he glances at your eyes before focusing on your lips again, watching up close his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Fuck, you look so hot when you're angry,” he deflects cause he can't cope with the fact that you're right— he’s fucked up.

“Fuck you,” your grit stirs a chuckle out of him as he pushes your back against the wall.

A second later, he’s seizing your mouth once more, tearing apart your invisible armor away as his tongue slides to break the last defense you’ve put up. You let him, cause at the end of the day you still love him. No matter how many times he’s wronged you, you can’t bear the thought of leaving him stranded.

The desperation burning at the tip of his tongue is intoxicating. The only thing you can do is give in and kiss him back with nothing but anger. Which he happily accepts. He has you where he wants to– pinned against the wall, his hands devouring your body, and letting you drown in the depths of his mouth while he steals every last breath until your lips hurt.

When he’s done with your mouth, he moves to your neck. His bearded face scratches your skin as he mouths his way all over the surface; carelessly nibbling and sucking your flesh raw between his teeth, leaving his mark.

“Dime, corazón… what do I have to do for you to believe that I’m for real this time?” His breath catches in your ear. (Say, sweetheart…)

You almost break into laughter. It seems like a joke. You won’t believe anything until you see it, but you play along.

“Eat my pussy.”

“You’ll believe me if I do that?”

“No, but it’d be a start. Hey, you say you wanted to get on your knees to beg… So beg me.”

Pegging you with a look, he doesn’t hesitate to follow your request.

You watch him gravitate toward the floor on one knee without taking his eyes off you. His fingers swiftly open your jeans, tugging them down to your ankles. He licks his lips, letting his fingers scratch the surface of your thighs before pulling down your panties too. Then he buries his face between your legs and works his tongue to tell the same lies to your clit. He laps around it like he does with your relationship, touching the edges without diving further into the core. He’s always known exactly how to give you enough to satisfy your cravings but always leaves you asking for more. You want his soul and body to be yours, only yours. Right now, the only thing you own it’s his mouth and fingers that work together in harmony with the tickling of his beard to coax your orgasm to the surface.

He’s two-knuckle deep, fingertips pressing directly on your g-spot, when his lips finally wrap around that swollen bud. You have to grip on his hair to keep your knees from buckling down as he drives you to the finish line.

Pulling hard on his locks makes him grunt sinfully against your folds. You tug again and again, earning yourself a string of groans and curse words printed directly on your cunt. A mild wave of bliss flows nicely all over your body as he slips his dripping fingers out of you. He brings them to his mouth and licks him clean as you regain your breathing.

“You taste as good as I remember.”

“Don’t forget about it when you’re eating out some other puta.” You grumble pulling your panties and jeans up.

“Hm,” he stands and lifts your chin with those same fingers that were inside you. “You know I’d never do that to you.”

“No, no lo sé.” You lightly shake your head. (No, I don’t know.)

“I’m telling you.”

“A lot of shit comes from your stupid mouth.”

“A lot of good things go in too… Like you,” he deliberately licks his lips, collecting the shining remains of you.

“Just remember, next time you won’t get a chance like this. I’ll simply leave. And no more pussy for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

[indecenthoney]

Burnt Out Bestie

---------------------------------------

It's that time of year again, we all survived such a long and exhausting year, but life just never gets any easier. I'd like to remind people that you'll always be busy, so when there is a moment to breathe, enjoy it and live in the present. Buttttttt even then... I can imagine a couple of you working your asses off... Luck for you... I'm actually really good at helping people relax...

"There you are... I was wondering where you were... You look like absolute shit... What? I'm just telling you what I see.... Here give me that... So tough day at work? Mhm... Well you can go freshen up and slip into something more comfortable... Ah no no no... You are not going to bed just yet... YOU will meet me at the couch as soon as you're done, okay? I'll be waiting... and if you don't show up... I will drag you outside whether you like it or not... Understand?"

Listen. Everyone needs a change of pace or life becomes a little too dull. I honestly believe we are here to enjoy our lives to the fullest. Even the littlest of things can turn our whole day around. I know what it's like to be tired, so if I had the power to help anyway I can I would.

"Heyyy you made it... I really appreciate that... Now take a seat while I fix us up some drinks... Oh that? Welll if all things go well... I hope that we can both relax, talk, and eventually fall asleep on the couch together... Sound good? Hey no... No running away... C'mon please? I made us hot cocoa..."

Can you really say no to someone that made you hot cocoa? It's fullproof! I have some pretty cute tendencies if I do say so myself. I make these little hot cocoa bombs that you can just plop into hot milk. It's packed with all the stuff you need for hot cocoa! Plus marshmellows! Need to stir? I always make sure to stop by the store to buy us some kitkats for us to help with stirring. You'd be spoiled if you were with me.

"One for you and... one for me... It's getting kinda chilly again so I also brought us a weighted blanket... So? What you waiting for? You gonna just stare at me all night or are you going to come under the sheets with me? Right here... Yes my lap! The best seat in the house... C'mon hurry so I can wrap us up! There we go... Comfy? Just let me grab that for you... Taste good?"

It really is bliss to be warm and comfy during a chilly day. Having her lean back into me as she sips her chocolate. Wrapping my arms around and placing my chin over head. A chance to finally relax. A long long long sigh followed by the most toe curling stretch.

"Oh? Big stretch... You... doing okay? You're kinda squirming a lot... Hot? I mean yeah... you did drink hot chocolate so I'm hoping it's doing it job... Now relax dude... Just lay back into me and get some rest... Okay? You did a lot today... Think of this as a reward to yourself..."

Cuddling up to your bestfriend on a quiet chilly night. Bliss. Having her squirm and rub against you trying to get as close to you as possible. Not understanding why she's feeling so needy. Doing whatever she can to get my attention but only being able to rub and whimper in my embrace. Did I mention I might have spiked the cocoa? Chocolate bomb molds can be made with melted chocolate but then I also learned about horny chocolates. Melted them down as the base for my cocoa bombs.

"What's wrong, sweetie? You're being awfully loud for someone whose tired... How can I help? What? Did you want my attention? I won't be able to understand a thing with you whimpering and looking at me with those little puppy dog eyes... Please? What a needy bestie... Why didn't you just say so? Why don't we have a look shall we?"

Pulling her pajamas down revealing her cute soaked panties. My hands wandering down to gently inspect the fabric. Quiet moans echoing through our house. Doing her best to hold back the noise as her eyes roll back in pleasure. Hugging my arm as I extend it downward for a better angle to rub her in. No words exchanged. Just her heavy breathes filling the air taking it as a sign for her permission.

Gently teasing her. Tapping on her clit with my middle finger. The whimpers grow louder as she waits in anticipation. Too dumb to beg; only sign of communication is her squiriming in my arms. I hear a little knockat the door. Covering her mouth with my hand as i plunge my fingers deep inside. Keeping her quiet. I have no idea who's at the door. Neighbors? Friends? Christmas Carollers? Who cares. Keeping her quiet as I slowly but roughly make my way through the deepest parts of her pussy. Pressing against her g spot every chance I get.

"Don't make any sound now... We don't want them hearing you now, do we? That's a good girl... You can do it... Just moan into my hand... That's it... You're doing so good... Just one more finger okay? Nonono... Shhh shhhh... It's okay you can take it... I know you can... Mhm... That's my good girl..."

Being rough on purpose; giving us the slight chance of being heard. It's exciting. Giving her the pleasure she needs to melt that brain of hers. She honestly works too hard. Some people don't know how to take a break. Watching her tremble and grip on my clothes... Spasming from the orgasms... Watching her eyes roll back from the pleasure. Quietly taking it as I rail her mercilessly with my fingers.

"Oh? I think they left... I'm sorry for bullying you, sweetie... I couldn't help myself... It's okay... Just take it easy... I'll make you feel good... Yes yes... I love you too... spread those legs as far as you can for me, okay? Can you hear how wet you are? You really need this, don't you? It's okay... It's your day off... We can do this all day if you'd like... "

Giving her the full princess treatment. Biting and kissing her ear. Groping her tits and pulling on her nipples. Fucking her silly with my middle finger. Slamming down into her making indecent sounds. Making her lick the juices of my fingers every now and then. Having her taste herself while I whisper sweet nothings. Doing it over and over until she falls asleep from exhaustion.

Once she's all tired out. I clean her up and carry her to bed. Tuck her in; kissing her forehead as I say my good nights

----------------------------------------------

Get some rest,

Honey

[papayatori]

Matcha Green

Oneshot! x fem!reader Okkotsu Yuta tw: angst, mentions of mental abuse, parental toxicity, fluff

Yuta was my best friend. He never failed to be there when I needed him, especially right now.

I was sitting on his couch, pouring my poor soul out to him. Did I feel guilty? Immensely, but he would never show it if it bothered him.

His hand rubbed my back gently, comforting me as I cried. I wasn't sure why life had decided to kick my ass specifically today, but, it wasn't like I could change the events of the past.

"You're gonna be okay, I'm right here." He whispered gently, not even bothering to ask me why I was crying like this, of why I had brought my suitcase. I nodded at him, leaning on his shoulder for support.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered in between my sobs. I shook, not knowing what else to say, what else to do. He shook his head directly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for.." He whispered back. "..though, if I may ask, what happened?" His voice was laced with concern, and I felt stupid for not mentioning it before, but I just couldn't.

My parents had kicked me out of the house, well, they hadn't really done that, more like packed my bags for me and left them outside. It was so sudden I didn't even know what to do, or even where to go. My parents had never been great to me, but they had never done anything physical, or anything as drastic as this. "I'm not even really sure myself, if I'm being honest." I mumbled, crying easing up a little. He waited for me to continue, gazing down at me. "They kicked me out, Yu.." I whispered, not looking him in the eyes. I saw his expression change from that of shock and disbelief to an angry look rather quickly.

"What?" He said, his jaw slightly locked. I shook my head, willing him not to be angry. I wrapped my arms around him, tucking my head into his chest.

"I don't know what I'm going to do." I mumbled, squeezing tightly. He shifted to make me more comfortable, his arm wrapping around me completely.

"You can stay here with me if you're comfortable with that.." He mumbled, still angry. "I've got the spare down the hallway, it's not like you don't practically live here anyways." He chuckled slightly.

Sadly, I couldn't argue. I stayed here a lot to avoid my parents when they got angry or upset with me. Most of the time, they wouldn't even give me a reason, and if they did, it was over little things.

"Thank you, Yu." I mumbled, my grip tightening on the fabric of his shirt. I could feel his eyes on me without having to look. I couldn't help but feel the flutter of my heart, no matter how much I wanted to deny it.

"Do you have your things? All of them?" He asked. That was a question I didn't really know the answer to.

"Not sure.. I have some of them, but I didn't pack them. When I got home from work I found my things in the yard, the rest of them are in the car.." I mumbled. If he wasn't angry before, he most definitely was now.

"And they didn't explain *anything*?" He asked, his muscles tensing slightly. I shook my head.

"You know my parents, Yu. They never do." He shook his head to my statement, disappointed. "Besides, I don't want to go back." I mumbled, a little defeated. His gaze softened with his touch, rubbing circles on my arm slightly.

"I can't say as I blame you." He said with a chuckle. "Either way, its safer for you here regardless."

"As sad as it is, you're right." I let out a large sigh. I was honestly just exhausted.

"You hungry?" He asked, doing his best to lighten the mood again. I looked up at him, a small smile on my face.

"Always." He chuckled at me slightly, I felt the rumble in his chest as he did so. My cheeks heated significantly.

He stood, and I felt the cool air surround me where his body had once been. I felt the pang of disappointment as he walked into the kitchen. I stood, following him.

"I wasn't planning on having anyone else to share this with, so I think it's a good thing I bought extra." He stated, holding up a few packs of ramen. I was practically drooling.

"Couldn't be more thankful." I said, my eyes wide with anticipation. "I haven't eaten anything today." His eyes looked at me with a concerned look at first, but didn't refute. Instead, he chuckled lightly.

"You can't keep doing that, y/n." He looked at me, a glint of worry in his eyes that was masked by his smile. I nodded.

"I know, I know." I said, crossing my arms a little and looking down at the floor.

The water had started boiling, I could see the steam rising as he stood over the stove, stealing glances at me occasionally as I sat on a stool at the island. He was whistling to himself, keeping himself busy. I couldn't help but find it cute, though I would never tell him that. I suppose he felt my gaze, because he looked back at me with a small smirk on his face.

"Something tells me you're not staring at me like that because of the ramen." He joked, laughing softly. I averted my gaze, pouting a little that I had been caught. My face turned a dark red.

"Who said I was staring?" I mumbled. He laughed again.

"The way you're acting tells me that you were, even if you deny it." I glared at him playfully. His hands went up playfully in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." We both giggled a little then, enjoying whatever it was we were doing. Though, this didn't feel like a normal conversation we would usually have. The growing silence felt tense, and I found myself nervous and uneasy.

He handed me a bowl of the ramen that he had so generously decided to share with me.

"Thanks, Yu." I mumbled, digging in without any warning. He chuckled from beside me.

"Slow down, you're going to burn yourself." He chuckled, smirking at me slightly as he ate his own. I groaned in acceptance.

We ate quietly, just sort of enjoying the company of the other. I missed this feeling. I loved how carefree I felt here with him, how I didn't have to hide my emotions or feel like I was walking on eggshells constantly. That was something the sanctity of my *own* home couldn't even provide, though I suppose I couldn't call it *my* home anymore, could I? I shook my head softly.

"It's odd to think that I'm happier here with you than I was in the one place that was suppose to be my comfort." I mumbled, eyeing him cautiously. He smiled.

"I'm not sure if I'm happy to hear that, or mildly concerned." He chuckled a bit, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder slightly. I tiled my head to lean on his hand. "I guess I'm happy to be the one to give that to you.."

"You're always so kind, Yuta." I mumbled, thinking a little bit. A thought came to my mind. "Matcha." I said excitedly, snapping my fingers a little and looking over at his confused expression.

"What?" He smiled a little, amused.

"You know how, when you sit down in a coffee shop, with a warm cup of matcha, you feel at ease? Sort of like comforted simply because of the warm vibes, the comforting and homey green color of the matcha setting the tone. I don't think I've *ever* been sad when I drink matcha..." I rambled a little. He nodded, still confused.

"Sure, but, where are you going with this?" I giggled at his confused expression.

"That's sort of how I feel about you, too. You always manage to make me smile, to comfort me, even in times like this." His expression softened as he took his hand in mine.

"That's what I'm here for." He mumbled, his face tinting a soft shade of pink that matched my own. "What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't give that to you?" He said.

"A pretty shitty one, but that's why you're not shitty." I giggled a little, squeezing his hand. I felt myself lean forward a little bit, instinctively. He was doing the same, and my heart was beating a little rapidly.

"Well, I'm definitely not shitty. Especially not with you complimenting me so much." He chuckled. He placed a gently kiss on my forehead, sending me in to shock as he stood and grabbed both of our bowls, carrying them to the sink the rinse them lightly. I was left dumbfounded. He turned around slightly, a smirk on his face.

"Too much?" He asked, too confidently. I shook my head vigorously, not being able to form sentences. He chuckled lightly, drying his hands off. I caught his gaze again as he walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my seated position. I was a flustered mess, though I still let my head fall to his chest. He took a deep breath, rubbing circles on my arms.

"This is either going to ruin everything, or makes this situation a hell of a lot easier." He mumbled, sitting his chin on top of my head. I looked up at him questioningly, feeling my heart beat rapidly in my chest as I urged him to continue. "Have you ever wondered *why* I'm like this with you?" I pondered for a second, not ever really being aware of the thought ever crossing my mind.

"Not really, I just sort of took it and ran with it." I said honestly. He squeezed my arm.

"My feelings for you won't allow me to be anything else with you." He mumbled softly, kissing the top of my head so gently it set my heart ablaze. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, terrified of where this was going, but excited. I couldn't deny the fluttering of my chest. "I like you, you know? I was wondering when you'd catch on."

My eyes widened, and I pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, making sure he was serious. He smiled down at me, a little bit of uneasiness in his expression lingered the longer I chose not to speak. I took a breath.

"I don't think I ever would have had you not said anything…” I mumbled. Though, I smiled big at him. “But at least I know now that the feeling is mutual..” I heard him release a breath he was holding in.

“I think I might’ve had a heart attack had you said anything other than that…” he whispered, his eyes distant as a small smile crept onto his features. I giggled a little bit, feeling better already. “..but, with that out of the way… do you think you would be ready for something?” He asked kindly, reaching his hand to gently hold my cheek. I blushed furiously. “You know, with me?” He asked anxiously.

I grinned wide, already knowing my answer.

“I would be a fool to say no to that cute smile…” I said, reaching up to touch his face. He leaned into my touch, smiling bigger.

Without another warning, his hand gently pulled my chin up to meet his lips. His kiss was gentle, soft, and welcoming. I giggled into it, knowing I would never be able to be as happy without him.

He pulled back, staring down into my eyes with a giddy glint in his own.

“Now that that’s out of the way, how about some Matcha?”

[poggersbathwater]

vivziepop: this show is about criticising Christianity"

proceeds to: woobify sinners and make them overlords as a reward,for some reason all or most sinners (cannibals, rapists,murderers....etc) are queer,villainized Adam the first human (had nothing to do with Christianity at the time he got created and it's not his fault that god made him for a woman and just wanted peaceful life with her) who lost two women because of lucifer,made lucifer the good innocent guy (let's ignore that he is the main reason why humanity is suffering), "7 DEADLY SINS ARE GOOD FOR YOU ACTUALLY! LUST IS ABOUT CONSENT AND GLUTTONY ARE ABOUT SELF CONTROL,EXCEPT FOR GREED CAUSE THERE'S NO SUCH A THING AS A GOOD GREED CAUSE FUCK RICH!....btw please buy my Valentino cups! (I Wonder why 7 sins are deadly in a first place if they're caring and healthy according to viv)" "Wait.....are you telling me that stolas is a wise high ranking demon who give knowledge to those who summon him? Nonsense! Stolas is a horny softie who needs his imp slave to protect him! Screw accuracy! And you know what? I am making the rest of ars goetia and turn them into birds and had nothing to do with their demonology because I just need to use their names to make more characters"

(Yeah sorry about stolas accuracy part,it's just that I am tired of "not everything should be accurate" argument,that's like making thoth a Egyptian god of wisdom into a weak softie hypocrite character who is obsessed with sex and have nothing to do with his wisdom and knowledge,actually there's a lot of interesting things about thoth that makes him respected amongst gods and if viv wrote him he would be nothing but a joke character that have no personality outside of sex and victimhood mentally)

Alright lightning round here

Woobifying (idk what that means but i imagine it means glorification) sinners: I think the overlords are there to run businesses and industries in Hell, not to reward them exactly- but I do see the point you're making. The worse they are, the more power they have, which doesn't look too good for Hell's case.

Having most of the sinners be queer: Yeah I.. also get this one. It's weird how no fascists or.. well, generally bigoted people are there, but all the characters that ARE there happen to be queer. And I'm not saying queer people can't be bad, they can, but when there's more queer people than bigots in a place that's supposed to have the bad people... yeahhhhh no

Villainizing Adam: Yeah I hate how they turn Adam into a righteous douche- though it could make sense, since he did eat the fruit too (it probably changed his behavior a lot), turning him into a righteous douche who's bitter he lost his wife was.. kinda messed up.

The characterization of the sins: YEAH ACTUALLY THIS ONE SUCKS !! The whole point of Gluttony is that you just keep indulging without a care- the whole point of lust is that it's forced and it hurts people- if it wasn't about force, it'd be called love. Because consent is love. Force and betrayal (cheating/infidelity) is lust. The sins being characterized as good people takes away from why they are sins.

Stolas: Okay I don't know much about demon stuff, so I'll leave that alone (the ars goetia isn't talked about in Christianity so that's why I can't answer it), but I will say that stolas being the victim all the time is fucking ass. Yes, stolas has been forced into an arranged marriage. That sucks, it does. But that doesn't excuse any of his actions towards Blitzo, or his emotional unavailability towards Via.

I've never gotten this many asks Holy shit

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

teaser!

✧ in which the attempt to get distracted from your feelings might not end exactly as you planned

jungwon x fem!reader

genre: mostly angst, some fluff

warnings: mentions of physical violence (but not explicit!), mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating + will possibly add more to the list as i continue writing

word count: tba

a/n: might change the title! >.<

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"... and then she agreed to go on another date with me", jungwon finished his neverending rambling about his crush, while you poured boiling water into the cup that contained your favorite instant noodles. you hadn't paid much attention to what your friend on the other end of the line had talked about for what felt like three hours. instead, you did every possible thing you could think of - hell, you even cleaned the damn windows, just to be distracted and not forced to listen to him.

part of you felt bad; he was your friend after all and besides his closest friend jay, he talked to no one but you about his private life. another part of you tried to convince yourself that you were just protecting yourself - and him - from an emotional burst out.

you could have sworn that you were obvious enough - that he knew about your feelings. sometimes, you even thought he might start returning them. that was until the both of you ran into that girl at a party a few weeks ago and you saw the way he looked at her - the same way that you looked at him. with so much adoration and longing in his eyes that your hopes of mutual feelings for each other crashed down in an instant, the pieces of it shattering across the same floor that you hoped would open and swallow you right there and then.

after your encounter with said girl, and several drinks later, jungwon had finally worked up enough courage to approach her. what you had hoped to be a short chat and maybe an exchange of phone numbers turned into an hour-long conversation and a quick text from you to your friend that you'd head home.

since then, you'd be the first one - or at least the second, after jay - who got to listen to every detail about every date the two of them had been on.

"hello? are you still here?", jungwon's voice startled you, snapping you back to reality. you hummed in response. "i called your name at least five times, are you sure you're okay?", you could hear a hint of concern in his voice.

you nodded, but hummed again after you realized he couldn't see your response. "anyways, congrats", you shifted the attention away from you. "i think i'll go to sleep, good night, won", you said half-heartedly, hoping to give a valid reason to hang up.

you quickly ended the call before he could open his mouth to ask for an explanation as to why you'd go to sleep at 7pm.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

a few days later, you were sitting between your two friends in the usual bar at the usual time. when your friend group sort of broke apart after you all had started college, you, jay, and jungwon were the only ones that did not lose sight of each other. normally, you'd be happy about meeting them for the weekly catch-up, but a few drinks into the evening, you started regretting joining them. if only jungwon talked about anything else, other than her.

"it's enough, jungwon. let her say something as well", jay cut jungwon off before he could utter another sentence about how his date went. his gaze turned towards you. "you're the only one who hasn't updated us yet. your turn.", he locked eyes with you shortly, before grabbing his glass to take a sip of his drink.

jay knew. you'd never said anything to him, but you knew that he knew. unlike his younger friend, jay was aware of the sparkle in your eyes when you looked at jungwon - and aware of how it died whenever he mentioned his almost-girlfriend.

you shrugged, "it's just the usual... nothing interesting, i guess?"

jay let out an almost inaudible sigh, thinking hard about how to get you to say a few more words, until-

"you're still not seeing anyone?", his eyes locked with yours again, "i'm sure there are some guys in college who are all over you. maybe you should try your luck?"

he gave you a knowing look, as if he subtly wanted to tell you: get yourself out there and distract yourself from him.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

i'll be doing a taglist for this one, comment to be added!!

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Slowly but surely replying to older asks. I say it every time but I mean it: thank you for being patient.

One ask about Shroudcest and one ask about Rookvil today!

Anonymous asked:

Imagine imagine imagine.

Cause this is funny to me.

Someone's flirting with Idia, yeah? (or just talking to him, not even flirting) (well, I guess it'd be a one sided conversation....)

And Ortho was off doing whatever and he comes back and he notices-

And he gets all angry and whatnot-

And Ortho's got instant connections to the internet-

And he figures out who the person is and basically destroys their social life.

Like, in the middle of this conversation, this person checks their phone and finds out all their friends have ditched them and their entire online life is up in flames.

Simply because Ortho got a little jealous.

Anon, this is so unbelievably easy to imagine lol Despite Ortho really wanting his precious Idia to have more friends and connections, he is much more jealous than he thought! And much more of a little shit than people think… We really love this kind of scenario for them, to be honest.

Ortho is way too powerful for how emotionally unstable he is! Rogue little yandere robot :( His niisan is his and his only! That poor guy probably just wanted to talk about homework or something trivial like that…

Anonymous asked:

the rook hate be crazy, sorry for the nonsense you’ve been dealing with for doing nothing wrong. anyway rookvil appreciation hours. rook is so observant and reverent that he’s always looking out for his queen and vil is just a bit tsun lol but i love how vulnerable vil is with rook. like the lines implying vil has cried in front of rook before, that they sleep in the same bed, rook knows vil’s family situation, vil commenting on rook’s thighs in beanfest implicitly meaning he spends a lot of time looking at them lol, rook has access to vil’s room and waits for vil… as much as i love savanaclaw rook and mourn his loss everyday, he willingly changed himself to be worthy of being by vil’s side via his own free will; vil did not MAKE him do anything they just talked a lot. my mans is more whipped than heavy cream. idk about you but rook mentions he struggled to feel or express emotions before he knew about theater (specifically neige but let’s ignore that for vil’s sanity lol) so it feels significant that rook obviously feels and emotes so strongly over vil (also something something ortho struggles to feel or express himself before movies and acting so what i’m getting at here is they should spitroast vil at least once lmao.) if it was revealed they’re canonically dating the only part i’d be surprised about is that it got through disney’s censors.

It’s okay, Anon. The whole thing kind of made us appreciate Rook and RookVil more, to be honest lol I sketched them for a couple of days nonstop after that whole thing happened.

It also made you write this ask! It took me some time to reply, but every time I was rereading it I smiled because god this is such a good ship. Everything that you’ve listed is just so… wonderful. All those interactions, all this connection, all those moments that imply their closeness that is on a much deeper level than we get to see. Sometimes when these two talk, it feels like we’re eavesdropping lol they just have this vibe to them, as if every dialogue has some additional context that we don’t quite get.

Vil’s comment about Rook’s thighs and him bulking up though lol poor Epel didn’t know what to make of it and probably didn’t want to think about it…

You’ve made such a good point about Vil being more vulnerable with Rook, and I think this vulnerability is very important. Vil feels like someone who probably doesn’t usually allow people to get very close to him, but once he lowers his guard for someone, that person becomes very special to him. Or I guess it’s the other way around… anyways, he trusts Rook enough to always have him by his side, and he probably vents his frustrations with the industry and anything else that troubles him to Rook the most.

And this trust isn’t one-sided: I feel like Rook trusts Vil a lot too. We know that he has a lot of secrets, and even Vil probably doesn’t know a whole lot about his upbringing and stuff, but he certainly knows more than other people + listens carefully enough to understand implications without prying into it too much. They give each other enough space in general, I guess? I know it sounds funny considering Rook’s whole stalking thing but lol their connection is special. They learn from each other and from what they have together.

It makes sense that one person that Vil trusts so much and loves so much is a weird theater nerd who doesn’t quite understand tact, but is very honest, supportive and genuinely passionate and loving. It makes sense that one person that Rook trusts so much and loves so much is an obsessive perfectionist that takes care of him, enables him and inspires him every day. Both of them are kind of insufferable, but they are the perfect type of “insufferable” to each other lol And yeah, let’s not forget about the power of knowing all the obscure theater/film references the other one makes!

I also absolutely agree that it wouldn’t be surprising at all if it was confirmed that they are dating lol The only surprising thing really would be the fact that Disney allowed it.

[lua-stellar]

What is the Best Step for you to take in the Month Ahead?! ✨ Cartomancy

this reading was done via cartomancy (the playing cards)

consider tipping me on ko-fi if this reading resonated :)

pile 1

cards drawn: three of spades, king of spades, jack of clubs

in the month ahead you will experience troubles, troubles which you will ignore and avoid. The king of spades and jack of clubs fortells someone from the past who will be returning in your life in the month ahead, i'm getting alot of energy of blockages and people blocking things for you in the future, I think that this someone from your past will return, it was someone who you were close with and most likely a man who has tried blocking you in some way before. They are someone who in your guys' dynamic tends to act only in their own interest. Like i said alot of blockages coming your way with this reading, even all of the cards are suits that are black instead of red which gives off an energy that can be cold, stagnant, negative etc. The next best step for you to take in the month ahead would be to not ignore your problems but instead face them head on. This reading is communicating that in the future, if you ignore your problems they will become worse. Also avoid relationships with people who want to take advantage of you and use you for their own self interests.

pile 2

cards drawn: ten of hearts, ten of clubs, queen of diamonds,

I see a good omen for you in the month ahead, you will experience a big change in the month ahead that will bring you great satisfaction. The ten of hearts card communicated that you should not have any doubts or worries as this card typically signifies things going very smoothly. You could experience good news, or meet a new love. In the future the queen of hearts in this context next to these other cards signifies a quick satisfaction of some kind, it can be sort of controversial like a short-term pleasure or habits that show a disregard to authority or traditional conventions. Nonetheless good things are coming your way in the month ahead and the best step for you to take would be to wash any doubts you have of the future or of any changes that will happen because everything is going to be just okay~!

pile 3

cards drawn: jack of clubs, king of diamonds, two of hearts,

Someone in the past most likely a man will be returning to your life in the month ahead, this was someone who you might have had a romantic connection with, but left you torn or heartbroken in some way. I feel like this is the kind of person who has money, or has an important position in life like maybe they are the boss at their workplace or maybe their family is important, somehow someway this person holds some sort of power in society. They will be returning to your life in a romantic light, a new beginning for you both is fortelled in these cards. You guys will likely enter a partnership or romantic relationship together, personally when i see the two of hearts in a reading i see two little hearts dancing with eachother being starsruck with eachother. It's pretty romantic. The best step to take for the month ahead would be to not move toooo fast, and to make sure you know this persons intentions and keep in mind the dynamic you two had inthe past/how this person treated you in the past. I wish you best of luck pile 2 for the month ahead!

[ehh-balance]

The words rang out again in her head; the harder she tried to think about something else, the more she ended up thinking about them.

“I heard the Abernants are back in town.”

But that couldn’t be right, could it? Last Adaine had heard, her family fled to Fallinel; they had no reason to come back to Solace.

Unless they were here for her.

But that couldn’t be right, could it? What good was she to her family? They didn’t care about what happened to her before they left, why should they care now? What difference did five months make? The summer between freshman and sophomore year managed to be one of the best times in Adaine’s life so far. She had friends that wanted to hang out with her and do stupid teenager things together. She was staying with Jawbone and Tracker, and they were both so much nicer than her parents and sister. The thought of her real family being close by again made her break out in a cold sweat. Adaine felt her chest tighten, and the air in the room was getting thinner. Oh god, she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. She had to get out of the room, somewhere more safe than the exposed desk in the middle of the classroom she was in.

As she stumbled into the hallway after a fumbled excuse to Tiberia Runestaff, she felt along the lockers lining the wall. The hallway didn’t feel any safer, with its twisting corners, and doors hiding students lining the walls. Outside. She should go outside to get some air. When she reached the front steps however, she felt a sharp stabbing pain behind her right eye. Oh great, just what she needed. An oracle vision right now would surely help her fast breaths and tight chest and numb limbs. She quickly sat down on the top step, her legs feeling weak and shaky. She leaned against the brick wall next to her, and closed her eyes to help block out the bright sun. But then changed her position so her head was down between her knees, to try to help her breathing and keep the sun from making her pounding headache worse.

The thing with her visions was that there was never any consistency. Sometimes they were so vague she couldn’t tell when they actually came to pass in the present. Sometimes they had no sound, and sometimes they had no visuals. Sometimes the only thing that would stick with her was the smell of Jawbone’s fresh cinnamon rolls, or the sound of Fig’s sharp laughter, or the feel of Riz’s claws excitedly pressing into her forearm. And sometimes, they were crystal clear enough that the only reason she knew she was having a vision was the distinct, thrumming arcana she could feel in her veins.

Adaine feels her breathing hitch, and it feels like suddenly the sun is too hot, sweat sliding down her back. She tries to shuffle out of the sun into the shade, but can’t feel the brick wall behind her anymore. She’s forced to lift her head up to gain her bearings, but does not know what to make of the scene in front of her. It’s clearly a fight, and she quickly catalogues her party to see if anyone’s hurt. Fabian and Gorgug are closer to the large, looming monster in the middle of the battlefield, while she spots Fig stationed farther back surrounded by smaller fighters. Before she can work herself up more with worry for Fig, Riz emerges from a shadow to help her. She can’t see Kristen, and her breath catches when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Easy, we’re okay.” Kristen’s voice sounds deeper than it usually is, and when Adaine tears her eyes from the fight, she sees that Kristen looks different too. Her hair is shorter, shaved on one side. She’s filled out in the shoulders and arms too. A quick glance back to the fight shows her that everyone looks different, older and more confident and, impossibly, much more in sync with one another. Gorgug has tools and items strapped to a belt across his chest that he utilizes while Fabian dances around with a sheet, light and agile. Fig has a different base guitar and a distinct feather on an earring that looks like a flame as she moves. Even the glimpse she catches of Riz shows his forearms littered with tattoos and his curly hair on full display, unfamiliar glasses perched on his nose. Her mind flinches at the sight of all her friends grown, but her body stays still, except for her hitching breaths.

“We can’t-“ her mouth starts moving without her say-so.

“We can. We’re all okay, Adaine. Look, no one’s even dropped yet. And if they do, I’ve got them.” Kristen speaks with such confidence. Though the sun is blazing down on them and the heat is unbearable, and normally Adaine would hate to be touched in the middle of a panic attack, Kristen’s grip on her shoulder feels cool. It reminds her of going inside after being out on a cold night and getting a hug from someone who had been sitting in the warmth of a heater or fire, except quite the opposite in temperature. But it still elicits the same feelings inside her of being warm and held. Kristen continues, “I’ve got you.”

Before Adaine can nod in response, an exceptionally loud smash! sounds from the battlefield. Kristen’s head snaps up along with Adaine’s and they scan the field. The giant that Gorgug and Fabian are fighting has smacked a large hand against Gorgug, who stands back up shakily after the hit, and has Fabian in a tight grip in its other hand. The slight relief Adaine was starting to feel escapes her, as her chest tightens again at the sight.

Kristen rises up from next to her and holds her staff aloft, but that too is different. Her quarterstaff is gone, replaced by a full length staff that is a shimmering purple color, curled at the top to resemble a question mark.

“Just keep breathing, okay? Do the counting.” Kristen spares her a quick glance as she instructs her, giving her a quick, bright smile before she points her staff with more intention. As Adaine tries to count out her breathing like Jawbone taught her, she has full view of Kristen casting her spell.

It’s like nothing she’s seen from Kristen before. She’s used to Helio’s golden light and buttery corn smell and warmth, and she’s even starting to get used to YES!’s sharp medicinal smell and weird blocky lettering. Adaine knows Kristen is powerful, but the display now is striking. It’s like the shadows gather around Kristen, wrapping around her and shrouding her in a twilight glow. Near the top of her staff is the only light source left around her, and it gives off a sparkling purple light, almost like stars twinkling in the night sky. Kristen eyes faintly glow the same purple hue, and her freckles all light up in that same mesmerizing starlight. Adaine doesn’t realize that the spell has gone off until Kristen’s feet lightly touch the ground again and the shadows recede, and how had she not noticed Kristen floating up in the first place? Her eyes flit back to the fighting, and she notices that the giant has been banished, Fabian checking in with Gorgug. Some of the smaller enemies are also banished, so Kristen must have used a higher spell slot. Something tingles in the back of Adaine’s mind that Kristen shouldn’t have that high of spell levels yet. Riz and Fig seem to be making quick work of the remaining fighters, Fig’s forehead lighting up with an anarchy symbol that looks like it was carved into her skin as she casts her spells.

“Alright, that’s chump change for them. How’re we doing over here?” Kristen kneels down, reaching into Adaine’s own bag that is still slung over her shoulders. Before she can ask what Kristen is doing, a frog that is as spherical as a frog can be is placed into her hands. Instinctively, she pulls the frog to her chest and feels her shoulders loosen and her breaths begin to even. Now that she’s calming down, the anxiety she thought was running through her body feels more like raw arcana, tickling her fingertips and nose. How strange. She didn’t think she had concentration on a spell. Kristen again places her cool soothing hand on Adaine’s shoulder.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” The words themselves seem to be imbued with that cool, twilight energy that she was exhibiting earlier.

“Thank you,” Adaine said, her head suddenly feeling much fuzzier, “And thanks for grabbing Boggy.”

“What’s a boggy?” Kristen’s voice pitched up, high and light. Adaine opened her eyes to see Kristen, her Kristen, laying on the concrete steps of the school next to her. Her long, red hair was splaying out behind her head, contained only with the ponytail she had stolen from Gorgug earlier.

“It’s…” already Adaine felt the finer details of the vision beginning to fade from her memory, “It was my familiar, I think. Or it will be my familiar.”

“Oh, cool.” Kristen rolled over so she was facing Adaine, “How’s your head?”

Adaine took stock; it wasn’t too bad, which was surprising. Usually after a vision, especially one during a panic attack, she would be drained and exhausted with a migraine likely to follow. But being talked down from the panic attack she was having in the future seemed to help ease the one she was having now.

“Surprisingly okay,” she answered, “Why are you lying on the steps?”

“I didn’t want you to be alone.” Only after she had said it, Adaine could feel Kristen’s fingers intertwined with her own. Adaine squeezed her hand in gratitude and felt her squeeze back. Adaine felt a comforting, cool breeze blow by. It must have been a remnant from the vision, but it reminded her of summer nights spent outside with her friends, the sun dipping below the horizon and the cooler temperature not deterring them from starting a bonfire below the twilight stars.