#congratulations me. you fucked up major.

[ventcode]

i cant even sleep. this is bad. just caught up in my own thoughts.

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: The ☆Glow-Up☆ 2024 Has Planned For you

♠︎ “At bottom every man knows well enough that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. 

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✧ Pile One ✧ (queen of cups, 5oC rev., 10oC, the chariot, the magician, 4oS)

Release.

➣ The central theme of this glow-up is inner fulfillment. You are on a journey of true self-love. The queen of cups is sitting proudly at the front of the spread. Major water energy here. You are unraveling emotional trauma down to your roots and reevaluating past attachments and burdens with the six of cups.

➣ I picture floodgates opening, allowing all of the pent-up emotional turmoil to release and finally free you on a deep psychophysiological level. You released something, an attachment or mindset that was set in motion during your formative years that was hindering your ability to hold compassion for yourself.

➣ Shuffling my music, "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood came on. I also saw the hierophant while shuffling the cards. You experienced a lot of undervaluing and emotional neglect in your home. Emotions in your home were taboo and possibly even punished.

➣ I feel like the people around you growing up, were either always dissatisfied with you in some way or made you feel small. Since this is a group reading, it is hard to word this without excluding a large chunk of the audience, but some of you grew up in a home situation where any form of outward self-love or expression was met with a lot of negativity and ridicule. 

➣ This forced you into hiding your true self which groomed you into a mental space full of self-criticism and doubt. In your mind, you were unwanted or inherently broken in some way and deserved less. The way you were treated created deep emotional wounds in your young psyche which made it hard to feel satisfaction within yourself or with the outer world.

➣ With the five of cups, I get the sense that you had felt you were in a desert and unable to fill any of your cups so to speak. Baby, that’s coming to an end. The ten of cups is at the center of your spread with a big ass RAINBOW touching corner to corner. The drought is over. The dark days are over. The sun is shining and you can taste hope again. 

➣ On this self-love journey, you are currently grieving (releasing) a degraded perception of yourself along with any beliefs that inhibit you from feeling good about your character.

➣ You are realizing just how enough you are and flushing out all of the poison that was crammed in your head about being inadequate. You are freeing yourself from the chains of feeling unworthy of a good life.

➣ You will find true beauty in every corner of you. Beauty in your laugh, beauty in how you dance, beauty in how you take care of yourself, beauty in what you care about, inner beauty that cannot be taken from you or scaled down. You will nurture your inner world, thus adding color to your outer world.

➣ During this major life-changing period, your view of reality will flip in a way you never thought imaginable. Life will feel worth living again. Your music will move you more and the swift pass of wind will invigorate you with new ideas for creative projects that will propel you forward to lifelong prosperity.

➣ I’m hearing 🎵 “… I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so proud of you” from Make Me Proud by Drake. Congratulations babe, you just broke a fucking karmic cycle. 10 of cups, following the 5 of cups??? You have graduated from a dark knight of the soul and are now approaching new, abundant energy.

➣ The universe is proud of you. Your ancestors are proud of you. Your inner child is proud of you. Your God(s) is proud of you. All of the cells in your body are proud of you. You have released something cosmically within you. Please hug yourself and have a good cry because you are doing something you never believed you could. Your hopes and dreams are unfolding.

➣ Get ready to make your daydream your reality.  With the chariot, you’re prepping to TAKE AWWFF BABY. The release of this blockage has raised your energetic vibration and is ushering bountiful opportunities into your life, new passions, new ideas, and new connections. 

➣ Your newfound faith in yourself is going to give you the courage to go out and experience life. Most importantly you will find satisfaction in the mundane. Every frame of your day will be brighter and feel better. You have gone from 5 empty cups to an eternally flowing fountain. Take the time to thank yourself for all of the hard work you put in to get here. 

➣ Advice: Extend yourself grace. During this period, you will have enlightening moments that will unlock pieces of the puzzle surrounding your trauma and a lot more will make sense and become easier to process. 

➣ However, as the flawed humans we are, we tend to make sense of something and then turn around and beat ourselves up for not realizing it sooner. Or, minimizing our pain and criticizing our past selves for not doing more about it because hindsight truly is a dirty dawg. No that is not how it works. 

➣ That’s like when you were in school and the teacher would start bullying you for not understanding a subject. YOU HAVE A DEGREE??? I’m fourteen?? Of course, you can say it's simple when you have already “graduated” and learned from it, not when you’re in the middle of experiencing it.  You gained clarity during this tower moment and can now see the bigger picture and liberate yourself. 

➣ Younger you fought to make your way through the fog and deserves grace because you would not be here today without your younger self’s perseverance. Forgive yourself for the time it took to get here and see the beauty in your evolution throughout the journey.

➣ Also, drink plenty of water and get rest!! It’s Pisces season, and a Pisces new moon is coming too. Most of your trauma will unravel while you’re unconscious. Please get plenty of rest and hydrate. This pile has Cancer/4th house energy written all over it. Mother yourself during this period. Clean your room, make your favorite foods, watch cheesy movies, and splurge on special skin care. Pamper yourself. okay I'm done. KISSES.

"My consciousness has outgrown this vessel"

✧ Pile Two ✧ (4ofS, the tower, the wheel of fortune, the emperor, the lovers, judgment, 7ofW, ace of wands)

Life's gotta always be messing with me (you wanna see the light) Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I) Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light) I try to every night, all in vain, in vain

Justice.

➣ I asked for a song to explain the central theme of your reading and I got "Freak on a Leash" by Korn. I get the feel that one of the main struggles of your life path is unfair judgment. People are quick to create a false narrative of you and run off with it.

➣ If you read my last PAC, “What is most alluring about you”, you may have chosen pile 2 or 3. With the seven of wands, you are constantly under attack.

➣ Take what resonates but I see a few scenarios. People may be quick to paint you as a bad person without getting to know you. Your public reputation was heavily influenced by rumors from people who intentionally wanted you to be disliked. People will take something small, blow it out of proportion, and try to impose it as a character flaw. Oh, you don’t eat the crust on your sandwich? How wasteful! There are starving kids out there, you’re so inconsiderate!! and then everyone else in the room who claims to not like you (but are truly your biggest fans) are oooing, ahhing, and egging that hating ass bitch on. 

➣ I’m seeing a bus. You may have been betrayed and thrown under the bus a few times before. This is the pile of my Lilith placements. Your power is your ability to garner attention, both good and bad. You attract a lot of envy. The ugliest emotion, in my opinion. It’s partners in crime with greed. 

➣ For some of you, I am getting the message that all of this underserved hate has sent you into a dark mental space and driven you to take an attempt on your life. And if you like my messages or my readings please believe me when I say this,

 I know you are meant for greatness. I picked up on your energy and you found this reading for a reason. Just like the Universe and everything within it, we go through cycles. And I know this is a long, painful cycle but it will come to an end and you will get out of this darkness. From the bottom of my heart, I feel your importance and I am happy you are here to share this moment with me. Keep swimming, I support you, the Universe supports you. The sun is rising and is offering you a new beginning.

➣ In this dark period in your life, the negative attention may have outweighed the good. I see a theme of being outcasted and isolated. Severe bullying. For some, even abuse. Like pile one, you have gone into hermit mode and isolated yourself from the unfair judgment of the world. 

➣ But head up muffin, the scales are balancing, and the wheel of judgment is turning in your favor. Following the wheel of fortune, you got the fucking emperor!!! You will come out of this on top. The people who kicked you while you were down will have to swallow their pride and kneel to shine your shoes while you sit rightfully on the throne. The public scrutiny you face needs to balance itself out karmically.

➣ Think Megan Thee Stallion. I won’t bring up any of her business, but if you've been keeping up with social media, there is a good chance you are well aware of it. That woman has gone through the unimaginable, one traumatic event following the other all while facing an obscene amount of public scrutiny. She had to go into solitary and off the internet to rebuild her life. But guess what??? MY GIRL STAYS ON TOP>>>>> After all the bullshit she endured, she’s coming out on the top of the charts, brand deals with major conglomerates, she is the people’s princess.

➣ That’s going to be you. You have dealt with a lot of injustice in your life, now you’re coming out of your “rehabilitation” and all of the people who spent the better half of their day attempting to tear you down will have to watch your rise like a phoenix and fucking weep.

➣ People were constantly taking from you , now the universe (whatever you want) is preparing to give you the power to replace what you have lost tenfold. Ace of wands, I see that life is handing you the metaphorical talking stick. The king stick. You are being blessed with a flame in your belly (activated solar plexus chakra) and the chance to completely reinvent yourself. 

➣ There is a lot of king and authority messages here, the ball is in your court. You are being released from the shackles of public perception and these next few months will be filled with inspiration and willpower to prove everybody wrong and showcase your strength.  I feel like a good chunk of this group will get chances to be in positions of authority or importance. 

➣ This is going to sound silly but I got this exaggerated imagery of a mean person calling you poor and ugly but the next year you drive past them in a Bugatti with their sugar boo in the passenger seat. HELLOOOO.

➣ With the lovers, I see you are coming in union with what is rightfully yours. In the grand scheme of cosmic law, you are owed good fortune and it is on its way. With the tower, I see an explosion and people fleeing. You’re going to pop out stronger than ever and that’s going to scare people cause whatever superiority they got from painting you as inferior is going to blow away and their true scummy nature is going to be seen. 

➣ After this, there may even be people who pretend to be your friends and claim they supported you all along. Have faith in your discernment. I have faith in your discernment. It will all be okay pookie.

➣ Advice: Just keep swimmin' my love. <3

"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."

✧ Pile Three ✧ (queen of wands, knight of pentacles, 6oC, page of pentacles, 10oW, 3oW, the hermit)

It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Awaken.

➣ Regardless if you’re a woman, a man, somewhere in between, or none of the above, you are approaching a newfound understanding of your sexuality. For some of you, it is a full-blown sexual awakening. 

➣ Some people here are realizing their sex appeal, others are coming to terms with their lack of sexual attraction, some are learning what they like in sex and what they’re attracted to. Yes bae, all of it; the whole spectrum of sexual exploration is here.

➣ There is an emphasis on attraction to yourself. You will see a huge shift in your physical appearance. Yes, your style will change but the main reason for this glow up is because you shifted the perception of yourself into a higher light. You’re allowing yourself to feel desirable and embracing the aspects of yourself you once shunned. 

➣You will carry yourself in a higher regard and this will open doors for you. Look into the mirror and give yourself a nice smack on the ass. Your self-esteem is sexy.

➣ Pile one is on a watery emotional self-love journey, this pile is all about fire and finding out where sexuality and passionate relations fit into your life. 5th house (flings, passions, hobbies), 8th house (sex and rebirth), 9th house (adventure, connecting with your soul tribe).

➣ I asked for a song to tie up this message in a cute little bow and I got the 639 HZ frequency. This is the frequency of love, radiation, and positive energy. It is the frequency of the heart. The heart chakra is opening significantly during this glow-up.

➣ You are opening yourself to adventure and sending a high vibe out into the ether. I see a sunflower and the queen of wands is decked out in bright yellow, you are stepping into the spotlight and attracting a lot of attention. I would say Venusian attention because the aura here is very romantic and collaborative. It's like the universe is spraying you with extremely magnetic pheromones and having opportunities run at you.

➣ You are going to get a lot of offers. Love offers, career offers, party invitations, you’re going to be involved with exclusive circles. You are realizing your self-worth and now you’re attracting things and people who also see value in you.

➣ This isn’t going to resonate with everyone, but I sense that for a few of you, there is going to be a reconnection with a past lover or a past friend from your childhood (or just the past in general). I also sense a theme of using your attractiveness and people’s attraction to you to your benefit. Somehow monetize your appeal. 

➣ It is like you finally released your ugly duckling mentality and you woke up and went, “WOAH, what can I do with this???” Lmao you discovered you’re an undercover member of the pretty privilege club.

➣ Yeah, with the page of pentacles and the ten of wands, I’m seeing an entire life path open up for you. Your passion and fiery energy will get you places, and you’ll go on adventures exploring your opportunities with that. Some of you will even become spicy content creators or do some risque sex work. Orrrrrr just venture into a career path you weren’t courageous enough to do before. 

➣ You’re a giant magnet energetically right now (I mean c’mon, 639 HZ???) you’re attracting a lot of romantic suitors. But watch out, they’re not all good suitors.

➣ I pulled another card and got Justice in reverse. Some people will try to get over on you. Also, the person on the justice card looked strangely untrustworthy when I flipped it over. Once again, practice your discernment.

➣ Your romantic and passionate life is taking off and it's going to be extremely exciting, especially if you are coming out of a period of stagnancy. However, with the 3 of wands and the hermit, the cards remind you to remain centered and plan bigger. Your passion, attractiveness, and sexuality will amount to more than hookups and shallow relationships if you invest in yourself wisely.

➣ You are unlocking an advantage you have in this lifetime. Open yourself to career endeavors, social networking, and creating a strong foundation for your talents and hobbies. Yes, date and have fun but don’t spend all of your energy in one place. Your attention and your energy are your greatest currencies.

➣ To expand on the hermit, I need to emphasize you are going to be getting a LOT of attention soon (I’m getting Sun-conjunct-Venus energy, is that in your natal chart or is there a transit with Venus right now or something?). You will receive more eyes on you than average and this might overwhelm you and push you into hermit mode.

➣ That is okay, let life flow. During those moments to yourself, dream big because you have the power to pull your dreams into your reality.  You will meet lifelong friends during this period. I am sensing a power trio for some of you. 

➣ Advice: To wrap up, we all know attractiveness is social currency, and you are coming into a great deal of social wealth baby. But please spend it wisely and do not lose yourself in the crowd. Keep up with your self-work and take introspective breaks away from people so you can figure out how to best utilize this awakening for you. 

➣ You look really good in red currently. Red hair. Red lips. Red clothes. Red jewelry. The color red is bringing you a lot of abundance. Okay bye. MUAH. <3

"I said mom, I am a rich man."

✧ Pile Four ✧ (page of swords, knight of cups, wheel of fortune, temperance, 7oP, the devil rev.)

Ascension.

➣ OMG I’m so sorry, I wrote a novel for the other piles but this one is going to be short. Maybe you were drawn to another pile mainly and this is your secondary pile. BUT IT’S SHORT BECAUSE ITS FUCKING AWESOME. 

➣ The song I channeled for you was named “Elniño Prodigo” and I want to say the artist is Love Record but I'm not too sure. This means child prodigy. When I was laying out your cards, I got this sense of anticipation and impatience. Theeeennn BOOM the wheel of fortune, temperance, and the seven of pentacles smack me in the face.

➣ Oh me oh my, you are chilling in the universe’s womb just BAKIN’ being prepped for a complete rebirth. You are a prodigy, you are not meant to live an ordinary life, you are being prepared for a unique journey. I know this is going to sound hard to believe because I feel like with this pile, a large portion of your life was spent in waiting.

➣ Do you feel like you are a late bloomer? If so, trust me, it is for a reason. Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you. I said something like this in my last pac, if that's you, heyyyyyyy i’m glad your energy stuck around, i love it.

➣ Do you have Pisces or 12th House placements mixed with Saturn significance? Whatever this glow-up exactly holds for your future is a secret. It’s the universe’s divine surprise to you. I did not get any energy detailing exact events, just something big in the works behind the scenes is making its way to you. 

➣If you’re reading this pick a card there’s a good chance you’re spiritually attuned and can feel this cosmic shift happening. Something about your energy is so excited. I imagine a hyper dog being held back by a leash because it's not quite time yet.

➣ If you’re in a period where you’re not seeing any life progression and it's causing you anxiety, relax, you are on the right track and you are where you need to be. You have not wasted time, time really isn’t even fucking real. Everything is moving slowly for a reason. 

➣In this “boring” period you are meant to tap into your inner world and curate what you want your life to look like. Create vision boards, imagine your future hobbies, involve things that mentally stimulate you, keep the spark of curiosity in your life, and nurture your inner dreamer. 

➣ You are connecting with your sensitivity at this time, finding the sweet spot where your mind and heart meet, and letting it fuel your zeal for life. Get these thoughts on paper. Journal them, draw them, sing it, and call this energy into the 3D. Your life is about to have a complete 180. Maintain faith.

➣ You’re seeing a lot of synchronicities currently. Animal synchronicities and repeating numbers(111,444,222,1144,1414). You’ll find strangely personal messages in music and media. Maybe you’re seeing shapes repetitively pop up around you in your environment, like stars or eyes. 

➣ Patience is a life lesson for this pile, there is a lesson to be learned in the stillness of your life. You are mentally restless right now, slow your body down and try out parasympathetic regulation techniques to calm your racing thoughts. Go swimming, take a class, try out a new hobby. In this “womb” era, enjoy your last moments of stillness because your life turns up a notch. I’m not even getting rebirth, I’m getting BIRTH. No matter your age, your life is truly beginning in this new season.

➣ Advice: I see a lot of clouds. I see angel symbolism. You’re ascending. You’re shedding old skin, letting go of dead weight, and you’re growing wings, getting ready to experience life to the fullest. Maintain hope that your life will pick up pace and become exciting again. 

➣ Find peace in this waiting period. Listen to bird sounds!!! They are going to calm your mind and elevate you emotionally. You’re growing your wings and getting ready to take off like a bird, you should learn from the best. Okay, I love you, the universe loves you, MUAH <3.

"Your sim has gone stir-crazy!"

watching tumblr shit on my images in real time is just...

On a lighter note, I know some of these piles are heavy, I posted my first reading two days ago, and the support I received has brought so much joy into my life. I love doing this, if you like this me doing this, I'll do this forever. I am eternally grateful for all of you likes, reblogs, and comments <3

Also, some of these piles are connected, feel free to poke around and pick up on messages spread out for you. okay, I'm done. kisses! MUAH

[blossomingmoonlight]

⭑ Undercover ⭑

Well I've officially written my first one-shot, a smutty one nonetheless and I hope you like it. I noticed that there are like 0 fics/one shots of daddy Tim Bradford so I took it upon myself to write one.

summary: I used some of episode 7 season 4 where Tim goes undercover and uhm things happen between you.

Warnings: +18, MDNI, vaginal, creampie, handjob, making out, tim having a sir kink, tim being hot as fuck.

Words: 3.7K

tim bradford x fem!reader

It was the early morning of yet another exciting Monday on the job. Only this time you’re annoying yet hot training officer Tim Bradford wasn’t your training officer anymore. Finally you had freedom, even though it felt strange and almost sad even to not ride with him anymore it also felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. You were deep in thought making your to go-cup of iced coffee when a familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Well good morning, you’re awake early.” Jackson grinned in the hall leading to his room. He had been your roommate for about 2 years now and after the academy, joining the LAPD out in the real world, called for a friend who knew what you went through. “Yes of course! It’s our first day of freedom. I’m planning on making it the best day ever so I’m going to be on time and prepared. I don’t want my first day to be a failure, I need to prove to Tim that I don’t need him anymore.” You responded to Jackson while pouring the hot coffee over to the to-go cup. 

“You know you don’t need to prove yourself to Tim, he knows how good of a cop you’ve become. I mean I get it but still, today will be great. I just know it.” Jackson said as he walked up to you and gave an encouraging pat on your shoulder. “So no coffee for me?” He asked, pretending to look sad as he watched you add the ice. “Sorry, sorry I’ll make some for you too.” You laughed. When you finished up Jacksons coffee as well you two walked out to your car and headed to the station. 

After changing into your uniform you headed into roll call while also pretending not to look for your ex-training officer. You took your seat, now in the second row, and talked excitedly to John about the next phase in your career. Some time passed and everyone had taken their seat, Tim as well, but you pretended not to notice his grumbley voice in the early morning. Something you came to appreciate over the years working with him. However you quickly shut up when sergeant Grey walked in. “Good morning everyone, let’s begin today with congratulations to our rookies who are now P2’s. Good job officer Nolan, West and (Y/L/N) it’s not every year that all the rookies pull through. However this new found freedom without your T.O’s does not mean that you’re off the hook, you’ll still be monitored only you now call your own shots. That would be all for this morning, good luck out there.” Grey finished and you smiled at Jackson and John who were both seated on either side of you. 

When you walked out of roll call you caught a glimpse of Tim walking behind you and joining you at your side. “Just because you’re not my boot anymore doesn’t mean that you can slack off now, understood?” Tim lectured as he looked at you sternly. “Of course sir, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded with a slight smile, you couldn’t help but think he needed to lecture you one last time before you went out on your own but just as you were about to point that out to him Jackson joined your “conversation”. “(Y/n) we should ride together today, already got it approved by Grey.” Jackson smiled. “That sounds great Jackson, let’s grab our gear.” Jackson agreed and you wished Tim good luck today as you headed to grab your gear. You and Jackson then set up the shop and left to go out on patrol. After a couple of calls that were fairly timid you drove yourself and Jackson to the food trucks nearby where your fellow officers were already enjoying a well deserved lunch. The day went on pretty swiftly with nothing major other than a robbery in a convenience store. When the suspect was processed you got called over by Lopez wanting to talk to you about a woman allegedly adding tiger blood in her skin care line and asking if you could join Tim in interrogating her as you were always good at getting a confession out of suspects and Tim could use a hand. 

You accepted the challenge and headed over to the interrogation room where Tim and the woman would be. The door creaked as you opened it, Tim’s eyes on you as you entered the room and stood beside him. “I’m officer (Y/L/N), I will be asking you some questions, Mrs Carter is it?” You asked the older woman sitting opposite of Tim. “Yes, but I don’t understand. Officer Bradford is already questioning me.” Mrs Carter almost sneered, clearly she wasn’t happy with the situation. “Well Mrs Carter I am here to uh... learn, I haven’t been on the job long and need some experience, so I hope you won’t mind.” You quickly answered, glancing at Tim who was standing next to you, looking a bit annoyed. “I understand that you recently started your own skin care line?” You asked her while skimming through her file. “Yes we’re a small operation but we’re growing.” She smiled proudly. “We’re hoping to get a write up in Goop.” She continued. “I-I don’t know what that is.” Tim looked at you confused. “I’ll explain later.” You told him, putting the file down. “A friend of yours gave us your night cream, she claimed that it contains tigers blood, like, literally blood from an endangered animal.” You stated. “Firms the skin right up.” She smiled, as if this was completely normal. You almost gasped at her quick confession and looked surprised at Tim before you pointed out, “Participating in the endangered animal trade could land you in jail for up to five years.” 

“You don’t understand the wellness game. It’s cutthroat. I need to stand out. How else am I gonna compete with Sloan and her vitamin business? I mean everybody knows that her B-12 rejuvenation pills are just benzos in fancy bottles.” She mused while crossing her arms. Tim gave you an astonished look, which you returned. “Um, she’s selling psychiatric drugs?” You asked the woman. “Oh, the whole ‘westside buffet.” Mrs Carter shrugged. “What’s Sloan’s last name?” Tim exhaled, knowing that this was going to be a dragging one. After some time you and Tim found the woman Mrs Carter had talked about and she was brought in the interrogation room where you two waited for her. 

“Take off your sunglasses, ma’am.” Tim sighed at the woman with the big round sunglasses while she was crossing her arms. “Do I have to? These fluorescent lights give me vertigo.” She asked, annoyed. “Okay well that could be the least of your worries. We’ve been informed that you’re selling psychiatric drugs as a vitamin.” Tim continued. “Who said that?” The woman scoffed, now taking off her sunglasses. “Doesn’t matter.” Tim cut her off. “I’m helping people. What’s the problem?” She expressed. Tim rolled his eyes. “You can’t prescribe a controlled substance without a medical license.” You told her. “My husband is a doctor, it's the family prescription pad.” The woman said as if it was obvious. “Yeah that’s not a thing.” You objected, you could feel that Tim was over it. “Look I don’t think you’re hearing me, this makes you a drug dealer.” Tim explained, now getting more irritated. “And given the circumstances a pretty high level one. You could be looking at twenty years in prison.” He continued. “What?! No, no, no, no, no. This whole thing has gotten terribly out of hand. Who ratted me out anyway?” She stuttered. “It was Aston wasn’t it? She’s been trying to break me down ever since I stole her portrait painter. Like she needs to be hung on a wall. You want a real crime to chase? Aston’s trying to hire a hitman.” She claimed almost proudly. “Wh- What do you mean?” You asked her confused. “Her husband's worth more dead than alive, so she’s been on the dark web trying to hire someone to kill him.” She smiled. You and Tim both sighed and looked at each other, this was bigger than you thought. The both of you knew what you had to do, so with permission from Grey, Tim would go undercover as a hitman to try and get the woman to say word for word she wanted her husband dead. 

After you got the equipment sorted in the van you waited for Tim to arrive in the parking lot with the Mercedes as the setup vehicle, while the van you were in was parked next to him. You heard a car arrive and opened the door of the van to greet Tim who was now parking the car. “Okay, oh... that’s your disguise?” You asked him smiling, he looked like a completely normal man, not at all like a criminal. “This is what real hitmen look like.” He scoffed as he now stood in front of you. “That is not the point. Come on, get in.” You said ushering him inside the back of the van. He sighs while stepping in the van, sitting down as you climbed in as well, closing the sliding door behind you before you took a seat close to him. “What I’m wearing is fine.” He claimed. “Okay, third rule of undercover work. Know your audience. You are not trying to fool another criminal. You’re trying to fool a woman who gets her ideas about crime from Lifetime movies. Put it on” You explained as you hold the black blazer out to him. “Fine.” He said as he almost ripped the blazer out of your hands. “Thank you.” He removed his open zip up hoodie and instead put the blazer on. “Oh my god.” He scoffed, knowing he looked ridiculous. “Yeah, that’s much better.” You smiled. “I look like an idiot. I’d pull me over in a heartbeat.” Tim sighed. “Exactly, because you look the part.” You said while handing him the earpiece. “Alright mic me up, let’s get this over with.” Tim said as he raised his shirt, revealing his toned abs. You tried to play cool but couldn’t help taking a peek as you peeled the back of the sticker part of the mic off and reached over to stick it on Tim’s chest. “It's a little too high.” Tim said as you stuck the mic on him. “I know what I’m doing.” You said slightly annoyed. You checked the mic and waited for the woman as she should be at your location soon, so Tim moved over to the Mercedes, while you moved so you could listen in and record their conversation. 

After some time the woman pulled into the parking lot and Tim stepped out of the car. She pulled up next to him, turned off the engine and rolled down her window. “You made sure you weren't followed?” Tim asked her as he leaned down near her window. “Yes. I drove around in circles for like half an hour.” She said with a smile on her lips. Tim then entered the car as you watched closely, the thought of his toned abs still in your mind. “So, how does this work?” The woman asked curiously. “Well, that's up to you. Your ad indicated you have a problem with your husband?” Tim started. “Yes. I need him to not be alive anymore.” She told him. “Hm, that’s not gonna be enough. We need her to spell it out.” You told Tim in his ear piece. “Do you want it to look like natural causes? A suicide? Homicide?” Tim continued. “Must be a lonely kind of life being a hitman.” She flirted. “It can be.” Tim tried to answer her neutrally. “So you’re not seeing anyone?” She asked. “Oh my god. She’s hitting on you.” You laughed in Tim’s earpiece. “No, not at the moment.” Tim confessed. “You see the thing is the fee varies depending on the method, so I need you to tell me what you want.” Tim tried to press on, only the woman seemed interested in something else. "Ooh. What I want changed a little when you got in the car.” She flirted while putting her hand on Tim’s that rested on his knee. “Wait, is she touching you? She’s touching you, isn’t she?” You laughed again through his ear piece, enjoying this a little too much while Tim is a bit stumped but stays in character. “Look I am down to do whatever you want.” Tim said. “Yeah you are.” You chuckled softly in the ear piece. “I just want the business out of the way first.” Tim continued. “So it’s 20.000 for a straight murder, 25 if you want it to look like suicide.” “Sexy, I’d pay you twice that to kill the bastard.” She said while leaning in a bit. “And the bastard is?” Tim smiled. “My husband obviously.” The woman smirked. “Yes, got her.” You said in Tim’s earpiece. “You know once he’s dead, I’ll be a very wealthy woman.” She smiled. “You’re under arrest.” Tim said while holding up his badge. Finally you got her, so you called for backup on the scene so the woman could be taken to the station in a police car. Tim walked back over to you, you still being in the back of the van. “Well great job we got her.” You smiled as you took off your headset and let Tim in the van. “She really was thirsty, my god.” He said while closing the sliding door behind him and getting in to remove the blazer. You sat across from him secretly watching, hoping to get another glance at his toned chest. Tim lifted his shirt to remove the mic and handed it to you. 

“What is it?” He asked you, shit he caught you. “What- Nothing I- I just waited for you to hand me the mic!” You stammered out, a deep blush creeping on your skin and on the tips of your ears. “Really? You didn’t want a show?” Tim grinned, clearly amused by your embarrassment. “No I did not! What are you even talking about!” You scoffed now looking away from him, but still close enough for him to see your blushing features. “I saw you looking earlier, I don’t blame you.” He said looking you up and down. You were in your own clothes as you weren’t on patrol and you were wearing a white sundress with pretty blue flowers all over it. You looked down at your lap shyly. Then you felt Tim coming closer and he grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “(Y/n) are you attracted to me?” He spoke softly, with his sultry voice. “What- no I wasn’t even- no I don’t- I don’t know... maybe?” You stuttered now your face was really burning, not only from the embarrassment that you were attracted to your superior officer but also from the touch of his fingers on your chin. “So you are.” Tim smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. You however still looked away from his piercing blue eyes, knowing that once you gave in, you couldn’t look away. “(Y/n) look at me.” Tim instructed, grasping your chin a bit harsher but not as to hurt you. You gave in and looked at him, at his handsome features, his stubble, his pretty eyes and his perfect hair. He was almost too much, and the smell of his delicious cologne wasn’t helping either. 

He looked directly in your eyes as well and leaned in closer, the tips of your nose touching, lips a breath apart. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest and your breathing became heavier. After a moment he closed the gap between you and claimed your lips with his. His lips were even better than you could’ve ever imagined, soft and pillowy but slightly chapped as well, which for some reason made them even better. As you kissed him back you felt like your entire body was on fire, you moved your hands from his knees to his neck, holding on for dear life, feeling if you let go, you would lose him forever. He moved his right hand to your cheek while the other pulled you in his lap by your waist, now moving his right hand on your hips as well. The kiss got more heated and his tongue prodded at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, you let his tongue in and met his with yours. At that moment you couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper between kisses. He softly groaned against your lips and his grip on your waist got tighter, he moved you to be right on his groin and gave your hips a squeeze as if asking you to start moving. And you did, you couldn’t not move, the moment was almost overwhelming as you started moving right on his hard on. Your underwear grew wet and you started moving feverishly against him, and then you moved right over his tip causing him to moan in your mouth. His hands moved from your hips to your ass and he started to move you harder against him, the movements alone could make you finish. The fabric of his jeans and the hardness of his erection hitting your clothed clit perfectly. But much to your disappointment he stopped you. 

“Sweetheart if you want me to finish already you should continue.” He smiled against your lips. “Let me make you feel even better first.” He whispered as you feel his hands moving from your ass to the inside of your thigh, slowly creeping towards your covered clit and moving his thumb over your bundle of nerves. You let out a loud gasp as he touched you, holding onto his biceps when he moved his fingers inside of your underwear. “Fuck you’re so wet for me. All because of me huh?” He murmured in your ear. He moved his fingers right over your clit, pressing a bit harder to see how you would react. You moaned at his touch. “Tim... please just- touch me, please.” You begged, already high off of his movements. “Maybe I won’t, maybe I like it when you beg for me.” He sighed against your ear, ever so slightly moving his middle finger over your clit. “Please just please touch me.” You continued to beg, needing any kind of release. “Please what sweetheart?” At his words you knew immediately what he wanted to hear, something that you realized he might have loved to hear you say for a long time. “Please touch me... sir.” You almost moaned in his ear. He groaned at this and started moving two fingers right over your wet clit. “Good girl, always knows how to address her superiors.” He breathed in your ear, you could feel him hardening under you even more. He then moved his two fingers inside you, your wet cunt almost sucking them in out of need. 

As he fingered you the sound of your wet pussy, your moans and pleas and his heavy breathing could be heard vividly in the otherwise quiet van. “Yes, yes, please sir, please I’m so close.” You moaned in his ear, begging for release. At your words he sped up his fingers, curling them up and hitting that perfect spot inside of you, finally giving you mercy and letting you cum. “Good girl, that’s it. You gonna come for me sweetheart? You gonna cum on my fingers?” He ranted in your ear as the walls inside you contracted while you came, trying to not scream for the whole world to hear. “Oh my god, please I need you inside me Tim.” You begged him, wanting nothing more than to be filled by his big cock. “I’m on birthcontrol so just please fuck me already.” You pleaded, moving your hand to pull down the zipper of his pants and reaching inside his boxers, giving his cock relief. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He groaned against you. You removed his dick out of his pants and moved your hips right above him, sliding your soaked underwear to the side so you could slowly sink down on his aching cock. You both moaned at the feeling and you almost immediately started moving after you grew accustomed to his big size. Holding on to his neck you began moving up and down the noise of his snapping hips on yours and your moans filling the van. He then moved the top of your dress down causing your braless breasts to spill out, which Tim decided to knead. After a few moments he moved that same hand to your ass, under your dress and smacked it hard.

“Oh fuck... oh fuck, you feel so good sweetheart, keep moving just like that.” He grunted, completely enthralled by the feeling of your tight pussy around his dick. “You feel so good sir, just- so- fucking- good.” You moaned as you started moving faster, feeling another orgasm approaching. Tim wanted to fuck you even harder and moved you to your seat so he could put your legs on his shoulders and fuck you deeper which had you screaming in seconds. “Fuck! Tim! Yes! Please, faster, harder please!” You screamed, holding your thighs against you chest so Tim could fuck you deeper. He did as you asked and moved faster and rougher against you, seeking his own high. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum, you gonna cum for me?” Tim moaned, moving his thumb to your clit and rubbing it in sync with his movements which made you snap, an overwhelming orgasm overtook you as you moaned his name, walls contracting tightly around his cock. The tight feeling of your wet pussy around him caused him to cum as well, filling you completely with his seed as he moaned your name. After some seconds of calming down he moved to sit down next to you as you felt his cum dripping out of you

“Jesus Christ, we need to work together again huh.” Tim chuckled.

“Definitely” You sighed contently.

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

Well christ that took longer than I thought but I hope you liked it, let me know what I should write next!

[shaunamilfman]

Dating Vault Dweller Lucy MacLean

never written anything but yellowjackets before but her girlfailure energy and complete lack of skills has entranced me

insists on giving you a tour of her vault. you could see everything interesting just from standing and turning in a circle, but she just has to show you all the “best spots”. it's just corners with interesting cracks in them. 

takes you on little picnic dates because she read about them in her book club once. sitting around in the field eating canned tuna while people work around you but she's having a great fucking time. you've never seen her smile more. 

big-time yapper. can talk for hours about the most niche topics if you let her. by the time she's done you can name almost every major player in some small skirmish 300 years ago. she gets so excited when she notices you're paying attention to whatever she's talking about. The girl just lights up and talks so fast you've got to ask her to slow down

if you didn't like reading before you'd better learn to love it because you will be joining that bookclub. by the time you've gotten around to reading it Lucy's pretty much spoiled the whole thing by accident. she just wants someone to talk about the exciting bits with and gets ahead of herself. sheepishly avoids eye contact when you put the book down and sigh. 

she likes when you're good at things but lowkey resents when you're better at something than she is. you beat her out in riflery and she has such a strained smile when congratulating you on it. she hates not being good at something so much that she feels guilty for it. 

definitely said “Golly!” after your first kiss

loves to sit around on your bed and watch you get ready. it takes all of five seconds to get your outfit on but she insists it's one of the best parts of her day.

insists on showering together to “save water”. always gets a little handsy but still rushes you out on time because she feels bad at the idea of wasting water. 

Lucy wants to do anything and everything she can for you. she wants to impress you and show you how much she brings to the table, and the habit kind of just stays even after your relationship is well established. She takes a lot of pride in her skills and what better use for them than making life easier for her partner. 

So easily won over by praise. No matter how sad or upset she is, you can always cheer her up at least a little by telling her how smart or good at something she is. 

cannot be suave or subtle no matter how hard she tries. and she does, a lot. tries to hit you up with a one liner and tells the punch line first. tries to lean against the wall and stumbles face-first into it. makes you dinner and trips over the edge of a rug and drops it on your shoes. you just make her so nervous.

she's so blunt that it leads to the most awkward situations, but you almost prefer it to the havoc she brings when she purposely tries to be charming. 

cannot lie to save her life. she’ll definitely try if it means sparing your feelings but she's so obviously lying that it doesn’t matter much. all “wow… you did such a good job!” but she’s choking it out and cannot meet your eyes.

she's so attached to you. would follow you from room to room all day if she could get away with it. she needs such constant affection and gives so much in return that it's a little overwhelming at first.

definitely the type to lick her thumb and try to rub the dirt off your forehead with it. she's so embarrassing, honestly. fiddles with your clothes to make sure they're presentable. you're going to dinner with 20 other people all wearing the same outfit, but god forbid yours is a little wrinkly. 

you can always tell when she wants you to do something romantic for her because she'll leave out your nicest jumpsuit for you to wear as a hint. 

catches you watching her fix pipes and assumes you want to learn instead of just ogling her. tries to explain it and you're like “yeah? that's crazy…” till she finally gets the hint. always looks so proud when she realizes you find her attractive, even after you've been together for a while. 

lowers your guard with the most innocent-looking smile and then suddenly says “we should have sex” with all the subtlety of a train wreck. that awkward bluntness rearing its head again. can always trust Lucy to say the quiet part out loud. 

loves to flirt with you but she is so bad at it. doesn't recognize the fact that she's bad at it either. hits you up with the worst fucking line known to man and looks so quietly smug about it. 

[russo-woso]

Hey, I have a suggestion for Jessie (feel free to write when available and if you like it ofc)

Jessie is heartbroken when moving to Portland and American reader helps her settle, takes care of the insegurities Chelsea left and she ends up falling because she was there as well to help her with Gold Cup and She Believes Cup. Reader is the first person Jessie oppened her heart to after being fucked over by her previous club and she's scared because she's falling hard

I’m here || Jessie Fleming

Jessie had found the move to Portland Thorns hard.

She felt many emotions from the move but the biggest one was insecurity.

She couldn’t understand why Chelsea didn’t want her anymore.

Was it that she wasn’t good enough?

Was she ever good enough?

Why wasn’t she good enough?

The only thing keeping her excited for the move was the chance to play with you.

She’d never officially met you but she knew you well enough to like you.

During the gold cup and the she believes cup, USA had played Canada and although both times Canada lost, you were the first one over to Jessie.

The same thing would always happen. You’d shake her hand and asks if she was okay and she would say congratulations on the win.

Since them moments, Jessie developed a small crush on you but it wasn’t anything major.

Then came the introduction to each other.

On Jessie’s first day, she was introduced to the whole team, a big smile appearing on her face once she met your eyes.

“Jessie, hi. I’m so glad you decided to join us.” You told her, hugging her.

“I’m glad I moved here too.” Jessie said, a hint of sadness behind her smile.

You didn’t know why Jessie was sad. You figured it was because she’d left her best friends in London, but all you did know, was that you were going to try your hardest to make her feel welcomed.

And so in order to do that, you figured the best way to start was to show her around the city.

After a few seconds of debating with herself, Jessie agreed and it was organised that you’d show her around on Saturday.

Later on that session, Jessie let a ball loose and shook her head in anger.

“Hey, hey, everyone does it. It’s fine. The last match we played, I let a ball loose by accident and it nearly resulted in the oppositions scoring. But I learnt from that mistake, that’s what we do here at Portland thorns. You make a mistake, and we help you fix it. You’re an incredible player Jessie, believe me when I say that. We’re all lucky to have you playing with us.” You told her, tears welling in Jessie’s eyes but she pushed them to the side, desperately not wanting to show any sadness to you.

Jessie didn’t know what to do, if she had done that at Chelsea, she would have been screamed at and told to do a lap.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her voice full of emotion.

—

After a week full of training, Jessie following you round everywhere like a lost puppy, it was finally time to show her around.

“Hi, Jessie.” You greeted her as she got into your car.

“Hi, how are you?” She said, a light red pigment spreading on her cheeks.

“I’m okay, it’s been a bit of a hectic morning, aka doing the food shop, but I’m happier now I’m with you. How about you? You done anything today?” You told her, reversing out of the driveway.

“Not much. Just unboxing some stuff and filling in paperwork.” Jessie responded, shrugging her shoulders lightly.

A silence filled the car and the light hum of the music took over.

You looked over at Jessie briefly, you could see the redness on her cheeks still present and the way how she fidgeted with her hands made it clearly evident that she was nervous.

You figured the best to make her less nervous was to get rid of the silence, desperately coming up with a conversation starter.

“So, the plan for this afternoon. First things first, we’re heading into the city, I’ll show you around, show you the best parking spots and the best, and I mean best, coffee shop in town. Then we’ll head to the Willamette River, and maybe show you shops along the way and then after that, I’ll show you my favourite spot in town. Of course, if you don’t want to do any of that, it’s fine. We can do what you want to do.” You explained but panicked towards the end as the thought of Jessie not liking anvy of the plan came to mind.

“That all sounds incredible. Thank you for this.” Jessie said, a grateful smile resting on her face.

“Seriously, it’s no problem. I would’ve just been watching movies all afternoon so you’re going me a favour.”

“So, first site on the tour, on your left you can see the…”

As you continued driving, showing Jessie all the important things of the city, you couldn’t help but notice the silence from Jessie.

Yes she was talking to you, but she was limiting her words, often saying one or two words each time.

You pushed it to the side, carrying on with the ‘tour’.

—

You’d finished everything you had to show Jessie except your surprise spot.

You drove up into the mountains, pulling to the left as you reached the top, reversing your car so the boot backed onto the view of the city.

It must have been reaching eight o’clock because there was a golden haze casted upon the mountains.

“It’s gorgeous up here.” Jessie said in awe as she looked at the city.

“It is, isn’t it?” You asked, looking at her.

You opened the boot, sitting down in it, gesturing for her to do the same thing.

Silence took over once more, but it was a comfortable silence this time.

There was no pressure to say anything.

You weren’t expecting Jessie to say anything but to your surprise, she did.

Taking a breath in, Jessie looked over to you before looking ahead again.

“I never wanted to move to America. I was happy at Chelsea. Well, that’s what I thought. I thought I had achieved the very best in my career being at Chelsea and maybe I had, but looking back now, I wasn’t happy there. Yes I had my friends, yes I had my life there, but I wasn’t happy.” Jessie’s voice broke as tears fell down her cheeks. “Chelsea said I wasn’t good enough, I was letting balls loose, Emma said that when I was on the pitch, the midfield was gone. When I was there, it was like I was a ghost, I didn’t make an impact. And that hurt. Ive spent my entire life trying to be the best I can and they couldn’t appreciate that. Niamh tried to get me to stay but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because Chelsea was hurting me and I couldn’t because the club that wanted me had this incredible woman that I’ve always wanted to know. So why would I say no? Why would I give up a perfectly good opportunity?”

“Jessie… I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise what you were going through. I’m sorry that Chelsea made you think all those things but you’ve got to believe me when I say they’re not true. You’re called baby Canada for a reason. You started playing for your country when you were 15. Do you know how impressive that is? And you were able to do that because you’re incredible at soccer. Jessie, please believe me.” You begged, wanting her to know the truth.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for everything.” Jessie hugged you, tears still falling from her eyes as she rested her head on your shoulder, still hugging you.

“Now, I want to know something. Who’s this girl that you’ve always wanted to know?” You smirked, having a rough idea on who it is.

“American, really good at football, the most kindest and loving person I’ve ever met. I think you might know her actually. I was lucky to spend the day with her today. She goes by Y/N, know her?” Jessie joked, a smile on her face.

“I’ve heard of her. Do you know what she told me recently. She said that there’s this woman that’s just moved here. Brown hair, brown eyes, ridiculously cute, and it just so happens that she really likes this woman. That woman goes by Jessie, know her?” You continued the joke, giggly lightly.

“Hmm, heard of her.”

You and Jessie looked at each other for a few seconds, both of you wondering what to do.

“Umm, thank you again for—” Jessie began, clearing her throat as she didn’t know what to do.

“Jessie? Just kiss me.”

Jessie didn’t need to be told twice, instantly connecting her lips with yours.

Chelsea was her old life, Portland thorns, and most importantly, you, was her new life.

[leclerc-s]

karma - part six

series masterlist // previous // next

charles_leclerc and natalia_leclerc posted new stories

pretty girl 💞

i shit you not, i woke up this morning and max was already here. why did i encourage charlie to sign with red bull? HE'S STILL HERE AND IT 4 IN THE AFTERNOON!!

they're being gross. i'm not cut out for the third-wheel life.

natalia leclerc SEB! TELL MAX HE CAN'T KEEP THIRD WHEELING ME AND CHARLES!

max verstappen NO SEB! TELL HER I CAN!

sebastian vettel this seems more like a kimi problem, does it not?

charles leclerc they already went to complain to him and he said, 'get out of my office.'

max verstappen then he said, 'go bother sebastian.'

natalia leclerc it's the most i've ever heard him speak.

sebastian vettel we had dinner the other day?

natalia leclerc i'm going for something here seb!

max verstappen soo seb, can i or can i not crash their dates?

charles leclerc this is not the sort of problem i thought we'd be having when i agreed to join red bull

max verstappen and what problems did you think we'd have charlie?

natalia leclerc ONLY I GET TO CALL HIM CHARLIE YOU KLOOTZAK!

natalia leclerc and he thought it would be inchident 2.0

sebastian vettel WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT WORD?

natalia leclerc max!

sebastian vettel MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN!!

max verstappen I WAS DRUNK!

natalia leclerc you taught me when we were children idiot!

liked by lilymhe, haileybieber, maxverstappen1 and others

natalia_leclerc the weekend in two pictures

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, redbullracing

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📍 natalia_leclerc major shoutout to robert for his first f1 PODIUM!! GO ROBERT!! AND GO LOGAN FOR THE POINTS!!

charles_leclerc i love you.

natalia_leclerc i love you.

landonorris blah blah, he won we get it! THAT CAR'S A FUCKING ROCKET SHIP!!

natalia_leclerc THAT'S WHAT HE DESERVES NO WINS!

alex albon i also got points??

natalia_leclerc but are you my grid son? no, didn't think so. logansargeant thanks mom!

olliebearman where's my congrats? i'm also your grid son?

natalia_leclerc sorry ollie, congrats on your race!

user1 it's the way natalia gave congrats to robert despite him being on a rival team for me.

user2 well, she actually likes robert so there's one reason why she congratulated him. user3 SHOTS FIRED!! SHOTS FIRED!!

pierregasly when my fucking tractor ends up in the points i expect a post like this too natalia.

natalia_leclerc that'll take a miracle to happen pierre. pierregasly this is why i hate you.

user4 this. this is my favorite trio.

user5 no one is doing it like them.

sukiwaterhouse congrats or whatever.

charles_leclerc thanks or whatever. sukiwaterhouse i hate you or whatever. charles_leclerc i hate you too or whatever. arthur_leclerc introduce me to robert pattinson or whatever. sukiwaterhouse this is why you're my favorite leclerc or whatever. charles_leclerc i hate you both or whatever.

user6 sometimes i can't tell if suki and charles actually hate each other or not. it's so confusing.

user7 i think they can't even tell sometimes.

natalia_leclerc posted new stories

in case anyone was curious as to how we are taking the recent news.

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not taggable: @Fall-bambi

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¡leclerc-s speaks! i just hope someone can tell where i'm going with replacing mattia with fred. if you can't well, hint: february 1st, 2024. i am still upset with the events that occured.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[cafejulii]

Kurapika being deemed by the hxh fandom as one of, if not the most, aesthetically pleasing character in all of hxh is ironically hilarious to me.

While I agree with this sentiment to an extent, as someone who is very keen to elements that make up an inherent sense of asethetic, canonically speaking; it should be expected that Kurapika has almost everything that would go against having a cohesive one. If anything, I am in firm belief that the main reason why he holds such a title is due to the manga covers along with the elegantly crafted filler added in hxh 1999 in which depicts the suffering intertwined with the discovery of his nen ability in such an artistic manner, which then created the baseline aesthetic for the lovely artists of this fandom to further expand upon.

But outside of this? Even so, many hxh fans still agree that he holds a sense of aestheticism to him. It truly does not matter that his color palette is all over the place, or that he would absolutely not care for style, and that, when not his cultural attire or a suit; he dresses as though he had walked into each of his friends closet's, picked out one item from each one, and wore them all together and called it fashion. (They absolutely do not match at all and Killua would absolutely have a stroke at the sheer sight of such grievous combinations).

Specifically talking about these 2011 official arts in which he is one step away from becoming Armin Artlert. (Even complete with the seagull)

Either that, or he dresses like a recently divorced wine mom. Or a butch lesbian. Not to feminize him in any way of course. It’s just the observed truth. It’s just the, pure, unavoidable reality when you dress in those particular color combinations, wear flannel or an oversized sweater, and have that oh so particular “fuck ass bob.”

Specifically talking about these 1999 official arts. A friend of mine had pointed out to me that the one on the right reminded them of Major Hughes’s wife from FMA and I couldn’t stop laughing. Poor 1999 official art Kurapika they did him so wrong.

Though there also many instances in the 1999 official arts in which he does a complete 180, and dresses as though he were the most insufferable character in a shitty 90’s mafia movie. While yes, in the manga, he is technically a mob boss as of now, I genuinely could not fathom watching the absolute mess of succession war unfold with a straight face if he dressed like this.

Yet even still, we have a multitude of artists making the most breathtaking artworks that depict him in agony while holding the eyes of his people almost as if he were some sort of sacrilegious patron, a lot of which are usually inspired Catholic/ Orthodox paintings. (I love these types of arts so much)

Now thinking about it, I suppose, maybe he is so aesthetically appealing because he is an androgynous presenting man with heavy backstory that has many symbolic ties to Christianity as he is representative of Lucifer in juxtaposition to Chrollo who is seen as this twisted version of Jesus Christ. And as we know, it was Lucifer who was considered to be the most “ beautiful of all the angels.”

But anyway, I digress. Bro is just ethereal. Congratulations togashi for creating a character so intentionally-unintentionally aesthetic.

(also this is very much a shitpost please I beg don’t take this seriously at all)

[grimm-writings]

hello! <3 i read your dungeon meshi stuff and it was great!! is it alright if i request some relationship headcanons with chilchuk? preferably with a male s/o, but gn is alright too! thank you sm! i hope you have a good day.

chilchuck relationship headcanons!!

…ft! chilchuck x m! reader

…tags! fluff, mentions of chilchuck's wife, chilchuck bisexuality crisis, teeny weeny hurt/comfort, talk of marriage, just word vomit tbh

…wc! 1561 (UHM...)

…notes! m! reader food come get it!!!!!!!! thank you for giving me the opportunity to go crazy stupid with this request anon i love chil so much is it obvious yet

Ok let’s get one thing straight.

(He isn’t.  Haha.)

But!  In all seriousness, Chilchuck has one thing he needs to do before considering a committed relationship.

Yep, even with all the longing glances, late night conversations, and helping each other learn and grow, he has to delay the fruition of your relationship until after everything after the dungeon dies down.

Well… he just needs to talk to his past lover first.  He needs to have a long, long conversation with her, and he’ll be sure to mention you too.

He relays this to you during the great feast privately.  Despite his nervousness, the sigh of relief that escapes him is noticeable.  His shoulders slack and he closes his eyes.  Finally, it’s off his chest.

Before we talk about the actual relationship, though, let’s talk about stuff that happened during the pining phase!  Yay!

Chilchuck only had one flame his entire life, and that was his childhood friend.  He never really ‘dated’, never really had any sort of time to explore his feelings for anyone else.

To put it plainly, he had no idea he was into guys.

“I dunno, Senshi was always kind of handsome,” Chilchuck notes with Laios, and his doppelganger nods in agreement. You and Marcille pause for a second, processing the words the two men said.  Like a house pet that has certain opinions regarding these sorts of people, you side-eye one another. “How would you know that?”  You challenge. In response, one of the Chilchucks glances over at you – the more tired looking one – and he shrugs.  “Not anyone would have the kinda bold look in his eyes he has.  The pinnacle of masculinity,” he huffs with a small grin, as if daydreaming of the very such thing. You have no words.  You quite simply don’t.

It’d be a major “oh FUCK” moment when he does realise.  Honestly the entire realisation of feelings for Chilchuck is Good Medicine but times a billion.

He’s pacing he’s pulling at his hair he’s questioning how the HELL did this happen.

If he has a pillow he is screaming into it more often than he normally does.

If you’re more on the masculine side, or are a dwarf, this man is a right mess around you.

Like he’s stammering constantly and hates himself for it.  Constantly red in the face around you and has to excuse himself.

But like . Not in a gay way or anything.

(Seriously if you think how he avoids his friends is ridiculous, this is eleven times worse.)

It takes some time, but I can imagine there’s a moment in the dungeon where you kissed at least once.

Chilchuck is the one to break away first, his eyes wide and face beet red.  It doesn’t take long for him to take his hands away from where they were, interlaced with yours, to hold his face and drag his skin down in dread. “...Did you like it?”  You nervously ask.  He’s the king of mixed signals… The half-foot nods slowly, still looking like he experienced some form of unwanted enlightenment.  “Yuh–huh,” he squeaks. You smile.  That’s good enough for you.

Marcille definitely picks up on SOME tension though.  She’s oddly observant of that sort of thing.

Once you actually reveal to the party that you’re seeing each other post-canon, Marcille disrespectfully shouts “I KNEW IT!”

As Chilchuck and her have an arguing match about that, you’ll look at Laios who looks shocked.  He had no idea.  Some things never change.

Senshi and Falin are normal and actually just congratulate you.  Give them hugs for me.

BUT FINALLY ONTO ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS!!!!!! (This is like 600 words so far.)

He’s still uneasy about a lot of things.  He has a deep-rooted fear of messing this up again.

When the relationship is established he might distance himself for a bit.  Not on purpose, mind you, he’s just… not sure of what to do, and he’d rather not do anything at all than mess up.

Chilchuck no that in turn is messing up noo!!!!

You’d have to tell him this and he’ll try and turn his behaviour around instantaneously.  He’ll be nervous and frustrated with himself, but take it slow and he’ll come around eventually.

His nicknames are … unique.

He’ll use stuff like “idiot” with the greatest affection in his eyes and a soft grin, but he’ll say “hey handsome” with the most dripping sarcasm and sneer.  Why is he like this—

Play with his strands of grey hair and he’s so flustered, swatting your hand away.  If he’s tired and cuddling into you, though, he… well, he wouldn’t mind it.

Speaking of cuddling!  He didn’t really do much like cuddling in his previous relationship, to your surprise.  He just shrugs and says he and his old flame weren’t that kind of people.

This is how you inadvertently find out Chilchuck is a wombo combo of touch starved and too embarrassed by it to do anything about it.  How does he live…?

He knows himself if you’re not a half-foot that him being a big spoon is too ridiculous of a notion.  Yeah, he immediately assumes he has to be the one spooning you.  He realises with time though that he… drastically prefers being in your arms.  Feeling secure, loved…  He really really likes it.

Not like you can ever get him to admit it verbally.

(You can still see it from how he relaxes into you and smiles as he drifts off into dreamland.)

It’s been a long day, and Chilchuck wants nothing more than to see you.  You look up from where you were sitting when your boyfriend enters the house and smile.  “Good evening, love.” God, your smile.  If he didn’t know he’d be coming home to this, then the work day wouldn’t have been worth it.  He sighs and smiles, walking to you and immediately falling onto your lap.  His face tucks itself into your stomach and his arms wrap around your middle. “Hm, someone’s tired,” you remark with a grin.  Chilchuck merely groans into your form. Sparing him from any teasing, you card your fingers through your hair.  You can already feel how he melts into you as he loses consciousness. You lean down and kiss the shell of his ear.  “Sweet dreams, Chil.”

For a long time, he struggles with actually calling you his boyfriend.  It’s not like he’s ashamed of you, it’s just…  It’s always been “my wife” for such a long time.  He still can’t quite fathom this change in his life.  That you’re his and he’s yours.

Eventually, he’ll be the one to proudly proclaim “my boyfriend!” when he gets the chance to mention you.  He’s quite proud of the fact he’s got you, after all.

His kisses are usually quick and brief pecks on your temple or if he’s not in reach, your hand or shoulder.  

Ugh can you imagine him taking your hand and giving a kiss to the back of it?  And you can feel his thumb ghost over your knuckles reassuringly before wishing you farewell to work?  Dying dead.

Kiss him and he’s always taken aback every time.  He still won’t be able to comprehend it no matter how many times you’ve done it.

(To be slightly on the more suggestive side… really likes making out when in the mood.  He can do that for hours with him on top of you.  Though he wouldn’t mind being underneath if he considers it…)

He daydreams more often than he likes, especially early in the relationship.  He’ll feel ridiculous for it, like some lovestruck schoolboy but… well, yeah, he IS utterly enamoured with you!  Don’t be surprised if you catch him staring at you or checking you out in some way.  Call him out, and he’ll flush with a furrowed brow and glance away.

His love language mostly comes in the form of acts of service.  Although there’s a slight bit of gift giving too.  He likes giving you wordworks or embroidery he made if he knows you like it.  Maybe he’ll make you a teddy or ragdoll if you’re into that!

You also get Chilchuck thinking about the impossible after a while.  He doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it, but it’s kinda hard when…

“I think I can give marriage a second chance,” Chilchuck says out of the blue to you one relaxing night in bed.  His hair is messed up by you burying your head into it, and your lover is tucked into your chest, holding onto your waist. His words certainly catch you off guard, and for once Chilchuck doesn’t make a thing out of being the one to fluster you for once.  Instead, he tucks his nose into your neck and sighs.  “I just…” he pauses for a few seconds.  “I think I can do it right this time.  If you’re here with me.  I think I can do it.” The silence is thick with a kind of tenderness you’d only associate with the colour pink.  It’s deep and you can feel your face glow in the heat. You pull Chilchuck closer and kiss his head. “I’d really like that Chilchuck.  I really would.” He chuckles slightly at the soft sensation, closing his eyes again. “Thank you,” he says, “I mean it.  I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”

[olderthannetfic]

Until I read the comments on that one post I had no idea the Bechdel Test was a joke and wasn't supposed to be a serious measuring stick by which you gauged if something was feminist or not. Everywhere I'd ever heard it brought up, it was brought up as a very serious thing, and it was a failure of media if it didn't pass it. I remember the debate about Mako Mori from Pacific Rim and if she was a character you were "allowed" to like as a progressive person despite the fact that Pacific Rim doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, the discourse, the discussion of if the director was sexist for not writing in another woman for her to chat with about non-men related stuff, the camp of people trying to insist that having a fully realized character arc and being as developed as any of the male leads = good writing even if she doesn't talk to another girl...

And I've also had the remark about my writing not passing the test, just not to my face. I searched my fanfic's name once, curious to see if anyone was discussing it outside of tumblr and AO3, and found a Tiktok complaining about it not passing the Bechdel Test. The top comment was "motherfucker YOU don't pass the test but we still watch your ass". I cackled and moved on, but neither the commenter, poster, nor I had any awareness this wasn't Feminist Media Critique 101 theory and was, in fact, a goof.

Right now there's a segment of fandom debating if Blue Eye Samurai is feminist since when Mizu and Akemi talk, they do bring up men, since, y'know. Women aren't considered people with rights in their era in Japan and thus it's something they mention instead of only talking about being cool girlboss badasses who never bring up gender. If something doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, a smug segment of the internet high-fives itself and congratulates one another on being More Feminist Than Thou.

They then get really angry if you disagree, even though by this metric, Sleeping Beauty (the original animated one, where Aurora has only 16 lines of dialogue) is more feminist than Blue Eye Samurai.

--

*DYING*

Okay, so, nonnie....

Dykes to Watch Out For (1983-2008) was a long-running comic and major piece of lesbian media. I grew up buying compiled volumes at the bookstore. To be honest, that kind of 90s-ish lesbian culture isn't really my scene despite me being bi, but it was very nice to have this slice of life-y somewhat realistic, occasionally somewhat parody, look at the queer communities around me. It's up there with Tales of the City for me in terms of being a window into a particular culture and time and place.

If anybody is interested in queer history, in addition to looking up factual info, I think a read of the complete Dykes would give a really good overview of how people were thinking about things and what issues came up a lot. You'll see things like Barnes & Noble increasingly putting feminist bookstores out of business in the 90s, attitudes towards porn in lesbian circles—all kinds of cultural issues of the day.

I drifted away as I got later in my teens and found more genre fiction I cared about, but at one point, this comic was a very welcome antidote to the glurgey coming out stories that made up a lot of the more realistic media.

Anyway, here's the comic itself, reproduced in its entirety because I think it's important to actually understand the context.

This is from 1985, so the era of Rambo, Conan, and Death Wish, each of which you can see being made fun of here. It's based on Bechdel's friend Liz Wallace's actual rule for seeing movies.

That's it. That's the origin of this whole stupid test.

"LOL, fuck 80s action movies". That's it. That's the joke.

The fact that blockbusters still routinely fail to pass in the 2020s is shameful, but that was never the point of the strip.

[ryin-silverfish]

Nezha the Demon Child: oh god not the discourse

…I promise, this isn't about Nezha's age. No, really, it isn't.

It's about this idea of pre-resurrection Nezha as a "Demon Child", and good lord that's just as discourse-worthy isn't it.

My short answer is "It's Nezha 2019 specific and doesn't quite work outside of that context, if you are using FSYY's version of Nezha's backstory."

My long answer is this entire post.

First, I must define what I mean by "Nezha as Demon Child". It's the popular fanon inspired by 2019! Nezha, who is the Demon Pearl incarnate as opposed to 2019! Ao Bing's Spirit Pearl, after 2019! Shen Gongbao switched the two around, and thus destined to be destroyed by divine thunderbolts in three years.

In the movie, Nezha's demonic birth and out-of-control powers makes him into an outcast, despised by the villagers, and he retaliated with some pretty mean pranks.

But whereas 2019! Nezha's parents still love him and try their best to give him a good childhood in those three years, in the "Demon Child" fanon of JTTW adjacent works, Li Jing is the one who despises Nezha and sees him as a demon from the moment of his birth, and sometimes Jinzha and Muzha too.

Now, I have made it pretty clear before that I'm not a big fan of Li Jing. However, if we are just looking at FSYY novel, how much support can we really find for the "Demon Child" idea?

Well, for starters: there is only the Spirit Pearl/Lingzhu Zi in FSYY proper, who reincarnated as Nezha, destined to become the Vanguard of the Zhou Army in the upcoming War of the Investiture.

When Lady Yin gives birth to a ball of flesh after 3 years of pregnancy, two servants report to Li Jing that she has given birth to a demon. Li Jing rushes into the room with a sword and cuts the ball open, and a little kid jumps out and starts running around, and this is Li Jing's reaction:

李靖骇异，上前一把抱将起来，分明是个好孩子，又不忍作为妖怪坏他性命。乃递与夫人看。彼此恩爱不舍，各各忧喜。

Rough translation: "Shocked, Li Jing stepped forth and lifted him up into his arms; such a fine child. He could not bring himself to harm the child as a demon. Then he passed him over to his wife, and the couple showered him with affection, despite their individual joys and worries."

The next day, Taiyi showed up to congratulate him, asked about the timing of his son's birth, and basically went "Ah, crap." See, because the child is born at the hour of Chou, he is destined to break 1700 prohibitions against killing. Right after dropping that bombshell, Taiyi named the child Nezha, took him as his disciple, and just…left.

Soon, Li Jing got a report that 400 vassals had rebelled all over the realms, because prior to this, King Zhou had summoned his four major dukes to the capital, killed two of them, imprisoned one, and only left Chong Houhu the asshole bootlicker untouched, at which point the two dead dukes' sons promptly rebelled.

As Nezha grew to the age of seven, Li Jing was still conducting drills in case of an attack by the new Duke of the East's rebel army.

So what does it all mean?

Well…it sure doesn't support the idea that Li Jing despised Nezha because he still thought the child was a demon after cutting open the meatball.

He could plausibly be unsettled by the whole "break 1700 prohibitions against killing" prophecy, but instead of being abusive, I think it's more likely that he just neglected Nezha due to his duties as a general, leaving it entirely to Lady Yin to raise the kid.

Which is still not the best parenting, but with different implications for Nezha's character. Like, FSYY's Nezha gives me the vibe of someone who just doesn't quite understand social norms, or human behavior in general, or what a healthy degree of fear even feels like, and being outright despised or abused as this "Demon Child" would have taught him to fear things very quickly.

If he was indeed feared by Li Jing, it's less "suffer not the yaoguai!" and more "let's keep our third kid happy and ignorant and never let him out of the house again."

To use a fucked-up analogy…Nezha is less this dangerous hound that must be chained to a wall and whipped into submission, but a fine, powerful weapon Taiyi had left to them for safekeeping purposes, much like the Qiankun Bow & Sky-shaking Arrows sitting in their backyard building.

Perhaps he still isn't seen as his own person or treated like a regular, flesh-and-blood kid, yet it won't make sense for Li Jing or his older brothers to do the equivalent of spitting on this precious weapon or kicking it off the stands.

(Since Nezha doesn't even recognize Muzha when they run into each other during the Attempted Patricide Arc, my HC is Jinzha and Muzha both left home to study under their masters at a pretty young age, and rarely came back for visits.)

Like, I can still see Li Jing being this stuck-up and emotionally distant guy who only interacts with his kids to "check on their homework", so to speak.

Or Lady Yin coddling Nezha, partially because she wants to make up for Li Jing's absence, and partially due to the vain hope that, by sheltering her youngest child from the world, she might be able to shelter him from his very destiny too.

...

Here's where I go off a tangent: on a meta level, Nezha isn't a demon or an aberration of the natural order (which yaoguais are often seen as) either. This is very much informed by a Chinese essay called 由哪吒看《封神演义》的天命世界 that analyzed the character in relation to FSYY's view of Fate.

It is very well written and has given me quite the emotional damage (/hj).

Specifically:Nezha is destined to violate 1700 prohibitions against killing, not because he is "evil" or demonic, but because he's born to be an executioner carrying out the Will of Heaven.

He is the very embodiment of the "Peril" that is the War of Investiture, and thus must suffer through his own perils, to be ritualistically remade in death into a demigod-like warrior.

Much like how the Chan 12's participation in the War of Investiture is, in and of itself, a Peril, something they must endure and survive as the consequences to their causes——failing to sever the Three Corpses and breaking prohibitions, Nezha's suicide served as his Peril, a death that shall cleanse him of his guilt and satisfy the karmic laws while also fulfilling his destiny.

Everyone he killed in battle follows the same logic: they have violated taboos (more true for the Jie Sect immortals), gone against the impersonal, ironclad Will of Heaven yet paradoxically playing straight into Fate's hands, as their deification through death has proven——a Peril as well as a consolation prize.

To folks that don't buy into FSYY's view of Fate and think it's bullshit, or don't understand the logics of deification: an alternate and more "modern" interpretation of Nezha's suicide may be an attempt at finding freedom.

After all, what's a weapon's biggest act of resistance, but breaking itself?

After this, I'll never owe anyone anything again. My debts are repaid. I'll never see my mother cry. I'll be no one's son, no one's disciple, a blade that will never be sheathed and left to gather dust in the attic, obstructed, then blamed for doing what it's made for.

It also isn't as simple as he thought. Death, as well as freedom.

Looking back centuries later, he'll probably cringe at his younger self too.

This? This is what you think your destiny, or freedom from it, looks like? Dishing out death indiscriminately without understanding what it means and lashing out in a fit of rage——it doesn't make you a good warrior, or even a good weapon, just a mad dog!

Like, I think Nezha can be rightfully pissed at Li Jing's Asshole Arc after his death, while also gradually coming to a more mature and nuanced understanding of violence and his purpose during WOI.

Namely, as ironclad and undeniable as Fate is in FSYY, attributing everything to it is just an easy way to avoid the difficult questions and personal responsibilities.

And I feel like there are a lot of interesting potential in exploring Nezha's post-war arc, of someone who is born to be a weapon, who finds comfort and certainty in that purpose, suddenly having to become something else.

Not necessarily in the "learning to be human again" sense, moreso the divine equivalent of a veteran adjusting to civilian life, exploring the boundary between executioner and protector, while dealing with both the funny and messed-up implications of working alongside everyone he sent into the Investiture.

[caapsiizzereads]

Can you write a Jamie Tartt request of him saying "marry me" to his girlfriend in front of the team and the team (your choice of who) losing their mind/shocked that the reader is calm but the reader knows they have a future and that Jamie is half joking (cause you know his proposal would be more) ? I just live for lovesick Jamie and your writing!

I LIVE FOR THIS REQUEST.

“Is it–”

“Jamie.” You look away from the road to give him a look.

“But–”

“No. You just win your match and be the prettiest birthday boy you are,” you grin at him. “And leave the rest to me.”

“Fine,” he laughs, beaming at you.

Even though you have just recently celebrated your six month anniversary, you have already passed some major relationship milestones: during the off-season you took a trip to Manchester, and Jamie introduced you to his mom and step-dad, you basically live together, and Jamie has accepted the fact that him winning an argument is just not something that’s ever going to happen. Even on his birthday.

After you arrive at the stadium, you wish the team good luck (and give Jamie a special good luck kiss) and go to join Keeley and Rebecca at the seats.

Jamie scores a beautiful goal in the second half and looks at the owner’s box to wave at you, but you aren’t there. This is weird because Jamie knows that you were at the game. He keeps checking your seat every now and then, but you’re still nowhere to be found.

They win the match, and the locker room is filled with cheerful babbling and shouting.

“Heey! Congratulations on the win!” You walk into the room a few minutes later, immediately being greeted by the excited noises.

Jamie’s face lights up when he sees you, “Hey! Where were you?”

“I had to leave, sorry,” you smile apologetically.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah… Just needed to pick up your mom and Simon from the airport…”

“What?!” Jamie had no idea that they were even coming.

“They were supposed to arrive before the match, but their flight got delayed.” You say it like it explains why his mom and Simon are here, and you knew about it and he didn't.

“Why didn’t I know about it?”

“Because it was supposed to be a birthday surprise, dumbass,” you chuckle.

“Oh.” Right, that makes sense. “So you picked them up?”

“Yeah, they’re at your place.”

“Why mine?” You mostly spend time at your place, and Jamie moved half of his stuff there a while ago.

“Because you have a bigger backyard and Simon is making enough food to feed a football team. And I mean literally.” You turn to face the rest of the team, “So you all are invited.”

A wide smile is growing on Jamie’s face. “Did you–“

“Yes.”

“Can we–“

“Already did. Your favorite, double chocolate.” You enjoy the delighted expression on Jamie’s face for a moment, and then suddenly turn your head to the side. “I don’t wanna hear a single fucking groan from you,” you point at Roy who’s frozen with his mouth open. You glare at each other for a few seconds, and he slowly closes his mouth. You give him a satisfied smile that translates to ‘that’s what I thought (bitch)’ and turn back to Jamie, who’s staring at you completely awestruck.

“Marry me.”

The room goes comically silent, everyone’s eyes on you, and you have to stop yourself from laughing.

“Sunshine, I know it’s your birthday, but you’ll have to do better than this if you want to put a ring on that finger,” you smile playfully at him, and Jamie’s looking at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world. “Okay, come on now, put your buns to work and get changed. I’ll wait for you outside ‘cause there’s only so much time a girl can tolerate being in a sweaty locker room.” You wave at the team, who are still trying to process what has just happened, “See you later, boys.”

Jamie’s grinning to himself for another minute after you leave. You better believe he’s going to put a ring on that finger.

[foli-vora]

Congratulations on your follower milestone! That is amazing! 💖

May I please request a Rick Flag fic with “The first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned.” and I would love for you to rip my heart out (since that is an option 😊)

Thanks and I am so excited to read all of these upcoming fics!

My sweet angel, thank you for your never ending support and love, and thank you for the request! I'm sorry for the major delay getting this done, but I hope you enjoy me ripping your heart out and squishing it under my slipper 💖

hear me

rick flag x suicidesquadf!reader

word count: 1k warnings: ANGST SUPREME. sad ending. swearing, blood, bullet wounds, death, sad sad sad. rick is cheesy & sad. SAD. ANGST. genuinely teared up writing this bye.

They lied. Everyone who had toed that line between life and death, they fucking lied. There was no bittersweet flash of memories before your eyes. You didn’t have a lot, but shit—there’s gotta be something worth showing you, worth reliving, before you close your eyes forever.

The minutes pass, you feel the growing chill along your limbs from the steady flow of blood from the various bullet holes in your torso, and still—nothing. Not a goddamn thing. 

Just Rick.

Rick bolting across the sand with your name falling from his lips. You can’t hear it, there’s a distinct shrill ringing in your ears that seems to be drowning out the chaos around you, but you see the movement of his mouth, the strain of his throat as he yells.

He comes to land on his knees next to you, a shower of cool sandy grains flicking up and dusting your black tac shirt. It glistens under the light of explosions and gunfire, and you briefly wonder in morbid curiosity how much of your blood stains the beach beneath you.

“Jesus. Oh, oh darlin’—”

You hear him then, his broken and strained mutter cutting through the surrounding ambush.

“Hey Colonel,” you rasp with a barely there smile, a sticky hot trail of liquid leaking from the edge of your lips, “how’s it lookin’?”

Those pretty doe eyes dart over the destruction of your body, his hands ghosting over your wounds in what feels like hesitation, anxiety. Which ones can be smothered with a cheap and easy dressing? What one needs the most pressure applied?

Going by the rate your body seems to be numbing, cooling in the breezy night air, they’re all pretty shit. At least there's no pain. Shock, adrenaline - whatever the fuck it is, you're thankful for it.

“Fine,” he mutters, rough gloved hands instead coming to rest on your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the coarse sand and half dried blood splatters covering your skin, “you’re gonna be just fine.”

“Damn,” you breathe heavily, brows briefly coming together, “I never thought I’d hear you lie to me. None of that shit. No, no.... you gotta make it something good, Colonel.”

Confusion pinches his pretty face through the pain, and you give another strained smile.

“The last words I’ll ever hear—make ‘em… they gotta be good.”

“Don’t talk like that, you hear me? You’ll be fine. Backup’s comin’. They’re comin’, and we’ll get you patched up, and you’ll be right to back to bein’ a pain in my ass, okay?”

Oh, sweet soldier.

No.

It doesn't work like that.

They don’t send help for people like you. Suicide Squad, remember? It’s in the name. You knew what you were signing up for. He knew what you were signing up for. This is it. You’re just another classified file thrown through the shredder at the end of the day.

You blink tiredly up at him, “No one’s coming, Flag.”

He shakes his head in firm denial, strong jaw rolling in an effort to remain cool and collected.

“No, they... they have to.” 

“Somethin’ good, Flag,” you remind him quietly, a heaviness now seemingly coming to rest along your limbs.

Is this it? Can’t you just have one more minute? One more minute of him crowding your vision? You don’t need a last minute life montage, not when he’s here, not when he’s carefully dragging you further into his warm embrace.

Please, just a little longer in his arms.

“Okay… okay. The—the first time you smiled, it felt like the universe aligned.”

“Oh, fuck me,” you splutter with a sudden roll of remaining energy, chest heaving and lungs screaming as you choke on a weak chuckle, “that’s a… a new low, even for… f’your s-soft self.”

“Thought you’d like that,” he drawls quietly with a grin.

It’s brief, tainted with agony stricken tears, and falls from his face the second it stretches his lips. No, sweet soldier. Smile. It’s okay.

Maybe… maybe this is why your life isn’t flashing before your eyes. It’s because it’s here—he’s here. You didn’t really have anything before this, before the Squad, before Rick. You were merely a shell of a person in your cell, angry with the unfair world and the hand you’d been dealt from childhood, but when he came along?

He gave you a chance, saw something in you no one had before. He provided you with the Squad, with friends. He got you out of your cell and into the fresh air with a new outlook. He trained you, laughed with you, ate with you in the crappy mess hall despite the frowns from his co-workers.

He saw you.

He saw you for everything you were, not for what people thought you to be.

“Think you’re the… the closest thing I’ve e-ever felt to love, Colonel. Thank you.”

It’s a decent goodbye, you decide with the final beat of your heart, slackening in relief and embracing the call of the abyss with a leftover curl still tugging at your lips. Better than you’d been led to believe you deserved, better than what Waller threatened you with.

You got a good ending.

He feels the weight of you in his arms, sees how unnaturally still your chest has fallen and how your eyes seem to stare just past his shoulder. It shakes him to the core. His heart beats at the base of his throat and he can’t help but call out to you one more time, despite knowing you’d never answer.

“Darlin’?”

You can’t be gone—not yet.

You can’t be gone, because you didn’t get to hear him say it back. He needs to say it, he needs you to hear it. He murmurs those three little words over and over, breathing them into your skin wherever he can reach, willing you to stay just long enough to hear them, long enough to know you were loved.

You need to know you’re loved.

Bile builds in his throat at the thought, but he has to leave you behind; alone, broken and bled out on the sandy beach for a sweep team to deal with later. He wonders as he runs through the dense jungle, but he’ll never know if you did manage to hear his broken, tear filled I love you’s.

He hopes with everything in him that you did.

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hi Sarah (or Sara? I remember you discussing the h but don't remember which way it's spelled). I hope you're doing well on your break and enjoying September. I have a question - how much schooling did you have to do to become a nurse? I'm considering becoming an elementary school teacher in Norway, which would require me to go back to school for 5 (additional) years. Seems like a long fucking time and i didnt do great the first run tbh. It would be free though. Investment in the future seems like it could pay off, so i guess im looking for inspiration from other ppl who have perhaps made a similar plunge

Hi, anon! I wish I could give you some straight up inspo. Instead, I navel-gazed for a while. Schooling-wise, I already had a (completely unrelated) bachelor's degree so I was able to do an accelerated nursing program after two semesters of community college doing the prereqs. I did struggle in nursing school. College has always been brutal on my mental health and nursing is a hard pivot from my original degree (double major history and english w a concentration in creative writing) (you cannot imagine how many books I read and essays I wrote). It took a little over two years in total.

You don't have to don't have to worry about student debt which is so so wonderful. I didn't have to either, and that's let me be way more adventurous with my life choices. The cost of your education would just ("just") be your time, energy, and the potential money that you could earn by focusing on work instead. I had to stick around in my hometown instead of going traveling with Cyrus. I worked a lot fewer hours than I would if I'd not been in school. I had to miss the live airing of the Jesus Christ Superstar on NBC in order to study for an anatomy test which was genuinely so distressing to me. 2018 was a hell of a year for me. (I aced that test btw. It was such an improvement over my previous test my teacher emailed me a congratulations note with twelve exclamation points.)

All of this while people were constantly talking about how shitty it is to be a nurse and how so many of them leave the field within six months. (Similar to teaching in that way, at least in America.) I was doing work I didn't enjoy for a job I might not stick with. There were a lot of times I resented nursing school for interfering with my life.

I'm still very glad I did it. My degree gave me a lot. On the very practical side, my degree has given me more financial freedom and a much higher earning potential. On the idealistic level, my degree has enabled me to do work that I find meaningful. The work touches a lot of things that I find interesting. My nursing degree has benefited my life, regardless of if I stay in nursing for the rest of my career or move on to something new. I didn't like getting my degree, but I don't regret that I got it.

Maybe it'll go way easier for you, maybe it won't be worth it. When I thought about becoming a nurse, it felt like my life plan clicked into place because it ticked every single need I had for a job. I didn't know if it would work out, but the rewards outweighed the risks. More than that, it was the first plan I had for my future that made me excited. I liked the life I pictured if I was a nurse. I've found that excitement to be rare and precious. If teaching gives you that, I'd strongly consider pursuing it.

Besides, you can always use my last-line defense against school despair: being like "fuck it I'm gonna drop out after this semester" and then keep not doing that. You can bail on stuff! It's rad.

[weeeeeekly]

the inheritance – hybrid!ot5 txt x human gn!reader

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blurb !!! Your grandmother left behind her home to you in her will. As a recent college grad, you take on the responsibilities – you never expected to find 5 hybrids living in your new home

info !!! gender neutral pronouns for reader, no reader body shape mention, no use of y/n, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to lovers, ot5 txt x reader, kinda a/b/o, inspired by the monster’s bride webtoon, ppulbatu, & txt lore (please do not ask me about it bcuz I don’t know anyyyythingg)

WARNINGS !!! SFW but MDNI 18+ blog, swearing, not proofread just pure free flowing thought, wouldn’t recommend reading if you were close to your grandmother, she passed away, & are still grieving

wc 1.8k

author’s note !!! if you don’t like it – don’t read it!

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CHAPTER ONE

Your last semester at college had been a confusing time as your workload was light yet you couldn’t chill out. The stress of not knowing what your future would hold kept you up at night when you could have dreamt about what you could be doing right now.

Thank fuck, you had your shit together and got all your credits to graduate. Your graduation was nothing special – you sat with the rest of the graduates in your specific program who you knew none of them. A few faces were familiar from being in the same classes but never spoke a word to them. You faked a smile as you crossed the stage to accept the blank diploma cover and pose with the dean. One of your parents showed up to congratulate you afterwards but not without berating you for not doing better to win an award or something. You tuned the noise out as you could breathe a little better after finally completing a majority of your schooling.

Now, only grad school stood in the way between you and a good paying job. Which was your new source of stress.

It also didn’t help that you were the new owner of your late grandmother’s house.  

A house that just happened to be a fucking mansion. No one else – in your immediate or extended family – wanted the burden of having to care take of the massive property. And it’s had a hard time selling for years after your grandmother had to move back home after you started your freshman year.

The last time you were here was the day you graduated high school. You used to run around in the front yard and imagine you were a fairy. When you got older, your grandmother bought a stone bench that you sat and read on throughout middle school – where all of your favorite stories felt like the pinnacle of literature. Now the front yard is full of overgrown grass and weeds, the stone bench was swallowed up by a bush, and what once felt magical just fills you with dread.

Letting out a massive sigh, you open the backseat door to grab your suitcase and duffel bag then locking your car. Tonight, you would sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor and unpack your immediate necessities and tomorrow after work you would get the rest of your things from your parents’ house.

All you wanted to do right now was take a shower, wear your favorite sleep shirt and leggings, eat some fast food, and then go on your laptop for far too long that you’ll regret not going to sleep early in the morning. Honestly, it was your favorite routine.

Not too much overgrown grass and weeds covered the walkway from the driveway to the front door, so you were able to maneuver your way while carrying your bags. You fish the skeleton key from your pocket and unlock the door. You’re immediately hit with the smell of mildew and dust, causing you to sneeze. Turning on your handheld flashlight you step inside and close the door.

The should of footsteps makes you take a pause from walking farther into the empty foyer and toward the downstairs bathroom. The cartoony way you whip your head in the direction of where the noise may have come from is comical, and the way your body turns in the direction of the stairwell to go upstairs to your childhood room.

Dropping your suitcase and duffel to the floor, you open the door to see that your room was untouched with all of your items intact. You guess no one wanted to fight over owning a bunk bed that housed old twin mattresses, a beat-up white dresser covered in stickers, a full-length mirror that had a crack in it, and a plastic foldable table. You go to your closet to see if there were any bedding you could use but you’re greeted with emptiness.

You take it back – all of your childhood clothes, toys, and anything else that wasn’t furniture was gone. Probably dibbed by your family members to take if they weren’t already included in the will. You feel a wave of sadness that one of your parents didn’t try to keep any of your clothes or toys from when you were younger since the second you outgrew something they either sold it in a garage sale, sent it to one of your younger cousins, or stored them here.

What if you wanted to keep that tie dye shirt you wore on your first day of school for kindergarten, 1st, and 2nd grade or that one generic princess doll you carried around from 2 until 8 years old. Maybe you were sentimental or just selfish but as you unpacked your stuff to lay out on the dresser you just felt sad.

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After begging the water company to turn back on the water, you took a long shower, changed into your sleeping clothes, and ate your cold fast food. You refill your reusable water bottle with the portable water cooler you brought. The sun has set an hour ago, so it was peak time to snuggle up in your makeshift bed and read or watch a movie on your laptop. As you’re exiting the kitchen, a bottle of cleaning spray falls to the ground, scaring you. A pair of mismatched eyes stare back at you.

“Oh my god. You scared me.” You hug your chest as the glowing eyes come closer and appear as a dark gray cat with three paws approaches you. Kneeling down to let the cat sniff your hand before petting them.

“Aww, pretty kitty.” You say as the cat purrs against your leg.

Another pair of glowing eyes appears from the entrance of the formal dining room beyond the kitchen, you continue petting the cat as a maltese walks over to you. You allow the dog to sniff your hand as it begins to nuzzle its nose against your outstretched hand.

They’re both well maintained, so they must have an owner within the neighborhood, but you have no idea how they got in. Maybe through the basement since you hadn’t checked down there yet, but all the windows on the outside were still fully intact. You could look around if there were any missing pet posters or online – the pair seemed comfortable around each other, so you think they came from the same home.

A third pair of glowing eyes gets your attention and as you’re extending a free hand to another lost cat or dog – a fennec fox appears freaking you out.

“Oh my god.”

You abruptly stand up which in turn causes the cat and dog to get scared and run off. You stare back at the fox who begins walking closer to you. You can’t deal with this. If this fox was owned by someone it probably wasn’t legal since this is an exotic animal. Then you would have to call animal control or wildlife trapping because you didn’t want to get in trouble. And you’re pretty sure this kind of fox is not native to North America, which is a whole other issue that you really don’t want to deal with right now.

But of course, you can’t have a moment of peace as a samoyed and golden retriever trot in with a shared toy in their mouths.

You’re laying on the floor inside your sleeping bag in your room as two big dogs share the bottom bunk and the small dog, cat, & fox are sharing the top bunk. It seems like they formed a little pack with each other for however long they’ve been staying in your grandmother’s home.

You tried to run upstairs to get away from the fox, but instead you were followed by the 5 creatures up to your room and made the bed theirs. You weren’t going to complain as you wouldn’t even sit on the old bed without changing the mattress first, so they could make it their home for the night.

Weirdly, you feel bad if you went on your laptop while they were sleeping despite them being animals. As you close your eyes to let sleep overtake you, you begin thinking of all the things you have added to your to do list.

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Waking up to something laying on you is alarming, especially when that something is a leg connected to a 6-foot-tall man and his pretty face is inches from yours. Scrambling out of your sleeping bag like a caterpillar into a butterfly, you shove his leg off of you and arm yourself with your metal water bottle and 9-1-1 dialed.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“A strange man broke into my house sleeping next to me.”

At the sound of my voice, the stranger wakes up and smiles at me. The voice of the dispatch fades as you see 2 more strange men asleep on the bottom bunk and the animals nowhere in sight. You quickly walk out of your room and the bathroom next door and lock yourself in.

“Actually, there’s THREE strange men inside my house sleeping near me.”

“Okay. What’s your address?”

“It’s 822 Mirage—”

The shower curtain is ripped from the rod and a pretty blonde tackles you to the ground making you drop the call.

You start screaming on the floor as shield your face from the strange man that might kill you as tries shushing you even having the audacity to put his large hand over your mouth.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I was sleeping in the tub but then I heard you calling 9-1-1 and we can’t have that so that was the best way to get your phone away and now I’m rambling, I’m really sorry!”

Tears stream down your faces as you’re forced to listen to him.

“Will you promise to not scream if I take my hand off your mouth?”

You feebly nod as he slowly removes his hand from you. You continue crying and sniffling as he stares at you. Both of your hands snap in the direction of the door when various pleads are coming through the other side of the door.

“Please let us explain!”

“We’re not going to hurt you!”

“Hyuka, did you make them cry?”

“It’s a long story, but we hope you’ll listen.”

You take the opportunity, while you both are frozen in place and he’s distracted, to knee him in the dick and escape out the window.

He kneels over whimpering as you’re using all your strength to pry open the window and climb out onto the roof. You manage to get 3/4 of your body out of the window when a hand grips your ankle, keeping you in place. Looking back, you see the creeper that was sleeping next to you holding you back as 4 other heads stare at you with the saddest expressions ever.

A new face you don’t recognize says your name, “This wasn’t how we wanted to formally meet you, but please come back inside so we can explain to you everything.”

masterlist | next

author’s note !!! my birthday gift to you! shocker… i wrote another txt fic. what can i say ??? i’m a moa first, human second. & i do believe that each of tubatu’s rep emojis embody them perfectly, but ppulbatu just came out & i couldn’t resist !!!

last thing, if the format looks fucked up i had to write this on my phone so pleaseee be kind to me

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What do you think L thinks of the successor program?

Previous Thoughts on Wammy's and How the Concept is both Bonkers and Toxic

Well, what we see is pretty damning.

L... Doesn't Talk About it Much and Other Bad Signs

L brings up the successor program once in the manga (this line is removed from the anime adaptation). It's a very one-off line in which he tells Light (while still in the college arc) that "you know, even if you were to kill me, L is legion and I'd just be replaced by the next L" and Light sort of stares at him.

Neither touch on this ever again.

Worse, when the torch is passed, it's only because Watari happened to be in the room where he could push The Big Red Button (TM) that sent information to Wammy's. And yes, while there was clearly a protocol in place to let the successors take on L's legacy, it uh... sure wasn't L pushing that button and the fact that it's a secret button in the security room where Watari hangs out (and certainly not L) leads me to think this is a Watari idea (the orphanage where people compete for the title of L, being in fact, Watari's weird fucking idea).

Most tellingly, L doesn't even bring it up when he knows he's going to die. He doesn't even think to himself "ah yes, those bratty twelve-year-olds in England will get vengeance for me and then Light will be put to justice". L doesn't think about the Wammy program at all in his last day, in fact, he knew for several hours he was going to die and he didn't seek out any means to bring his successors in or even think "oh woe that Light is right there or I could inform my secret successors of everything we need to know".

We learn later that Near and Mello never actually met L, in fact, and if they ever did speak to him it was... brief and impersonal. This leaves them both with weird complexes about the man and their relationship with the role of successor.

In fact, L blatantly says "Light is my successor" and seems to mean it. True, L knew Light was Kira and was perhaps doing this for the mind fuckery, but on the other hand he had no reason to do this and again, had time to take it back once he realized Light was Kira again (which he did very quickly after Light got his memories back). Had L not done this, he could have either a) directly had a Wammy's person take over and explain the whole successor thing (he does not) or b) left it such that Soichiro was in charge. He has nothing to gain by even hinting that Light could take control over his title after he left. And the fact is... Light does do it. He's the power behind L for six years while Near and Mello do... well, Mello joins the mafia and has a time in Nevada, Near does who fucking knows what.

Basically, L couldn't be less supportive of the Wammy's orphanage unless he actively shut it down and fired Watari (but then who would bring him snacks?)

But Why?

L's in it for personal victory. L wants to beat Kira himself, he wants to do it on his own terms, with his own ingenuity. It's not so much about beating Kira but the fact that he will be the one to beat Kira. His 'successors' doing so would be less than meaningless to L.

Leaving it to some twelve-year-old to solve, hand-picked by Watari because they solved puzzles good and read good too, would be worse for L than fucking Matsuda or Misa making a major break in the case (and canonically, both those things happen, and canonically L handles it fucking poorly).

Worse, Watari is not even implying, but outright saying, that L is not so special a super genius snowflake and that Watari can cultivate another one simply through hard work and careful selection. "Congratulations, L, you are irrelevant and superfluous!" And worse, those replacements are little kids and I imagine L finds their quirks... annoying. (I'm not convinced L's not just s troll).

And if we take LABB into account, all L sees them do is kill themselves or make trouble for everyone (through murder). L does not want to deal with these people (and so he doesn't and makes Naomi do it for an entire hilarious novel).

TL;DR

L hates those fuckers.