#im not familiar with the etiquette

[takahashits]

hi !! coming thru as a newbie in the self-shipping community :D

my name is june, i’m 17 + i go by she/her prns, and my romantic f/o is ryuji sakamoto from persona 5: royal 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 he is the only romantic f/o i have LOL

left and right pics are from picrew; middle art was made by @vellichorsdesire, go give them a follow + some love!! ❤️

the rest of the phantom thieves of hearts + akechi are basically my platonic f/os!! i love every single one of em

dni: anti-self ship, basic dni criteria, pr0shippers & z00ph1les, if you have the same romantic f/o (SORRY ☹️ as platonic f/o is cool tho 😁😁)

byf: i might gush & post a lot about my f/o plz be prepared

i’m not very good at introductions so that’s all for now 😁😁 self-ship community, i hope you welcome me warmly ! <3

p.s. for those who r following me to be moots expect that i’ll be following u w my main blog @kissandkeepbusy !! since i can’t w/ a side blog 💔

[blinding-metaphysics]

I am officially consumed by the ethubs propaganda. So lo and behold, ethubs with eldritch etho.

[sampilled]

noooooo i sound so mean and evil!!!!! shes gonna hate me and put a curse on my jeans

[teotoffee]

i want to book a counseling session at my school bc i suspect i have some sort of. Disorder (and has super impacted my life by making me repeat a subject 3 times bc i was too distressed to do the work properly) but how am i gonna explain to them that what made me seek help was Meursault Thestranger

[marshthedumbest]

time to move some of my idv art here. sorry to the overwatch fans that follow me but you will be exposed to another thing i'm passionate about and you WILL be forced to like it /hj

[gaycompilation]

its been so long since i actually played with tumblr themes, my main has been mobile only for forever now...i really wonder what the best format for this kind of thing would be since ive never successfully ran one before actually. much to think about

[roundseys]

seeing a dragon that you had kept for years but never truly loved, and finally gave them away thru an exalt rescue after you had been going back and forth over exalting them, and seeing them be well-dressed and clearly loved in another person’s lair is such a healing feeling. So glad you got a second chance bestie

[dovveri]

what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u

failing maths, but getting the girl

synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.

warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex

w/c: 4.0k

a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n!"

you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.

you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.

you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"

"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."

you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.

"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."

"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."

"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.

"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"

"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."

momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.

the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

“you failed.”

“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”

“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”

you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.

“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”

the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"

you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."

you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."

"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."

she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."

you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.

"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"

"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."

you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."

"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."

"oh... i guess that's better?"

"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"

"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"

"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."

you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.

your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."

"what?! you can't leave me here!"

your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"

you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.

two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.

you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.

definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.

your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.

"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.

"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.

"i-i'm sorry i-"

she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."

you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.

you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.

you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.

when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"

you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'

she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."

you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."

she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."

you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."

she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.

you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.

she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.

it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.

"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.

"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."

momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.

"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."

"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."

you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.

you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"

she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."

"wanna talk about it?"

she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."

it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."

"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"

she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."

"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"

she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."

you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"

she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."

you frown, sitting back on your heels.

"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"

"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.

you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.

you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.

you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."

you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."

momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."

you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.

"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"

she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.

"you don't need any of those things anyway."

you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.

she clears her throat, "all done."

you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.

you beam up at her, "thanks!"

she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."

you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"

she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"

you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"

she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.

once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..

"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."

"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"

momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"

"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.

"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.

"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."

you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"

"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"

"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"

"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."

you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"

she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."

you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"

momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.

"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."

"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."

you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.

momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.

"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"

"y/n..."

"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."

"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.

you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.

"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.

"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."

you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.

"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.

"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"

she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"

you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."

"y/n!"

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.

you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.

you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.

you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?

you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.

you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"

momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.

that was hot.

"rohypnol."

"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?

you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.

"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."

the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"

"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"

"what!? the fuck?!"

momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."

he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.

she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."

you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.

she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.

you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.

"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.

she hums lightly against you, "which part?"

"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"

she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"

you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."

her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.

you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.

you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.

[prwcess]

Under the floorboards

Mizu x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT!!!!! also blood, weaponry, fighting, and argument Lol!!!!

(reader believes Mizu is male)

The wood creaks under me and dirt tumbles around my ankles as i climb up from underneath the ancient home of a “Tanzaki”. Who knows who this man is, but as an assassin, i don’t think that’s my buisness.

I scurry through the surprisingly well kept tunnels as if a rat living under the floorboards, listening in to find several pairs of footsteps. Mainly from up ahead, yet it seems as through something’s .. sneaking up on me?

Drawing the illegally sold and bought european gun from my waist band and stand in silence, planning my next move as the steps get closer.

-

-

-

With no idea what to do as the door creaks open i aim the gun at the height of an average man’s head and steady my breathing, I hear the man draw a sword.

two steps.

two steps and i recognize those bright blue devil eyes.

I feel as though i’ve fallen into a trance, the familiar face rushing towards me causes no reaction. I lower the gun as i watch Mizu retreat.

“what are you doing here?” i ask, the last time i saw this man was after traveling with him place to place for a year, unknowing of his plans. I kept watch for new job opportunities, and once Mizu and I were done, we moved on to the next city. That was until we reached kyoto, where he disappeared leaving a trail of blood.

“i could ask you the same question.”

“well I-“

“why are you carrying that?” Mizu cuts me off and steps forward eyeing my gun, obviously brand new.

“I think i asked you a question first, did you leave all your etiquette back in kyoto?” i remark, genuinely forgetting the job I need to get done before sunrise.

“Im here to kill Tanazaki.”

he states quite plainly, the blank expression never quivering.

“well, i’m getting paid to do exactly that, and im not leaving here unless I do so myself.” i finish off and turn to step forward, ready to face whatever group of men in the next room, yet as I take a step I notice something… a lack of…

flooring.

I fall through into a darker and wider candle lit room, pillars on each side and walls with no doors.

coughing and hacking i look up as maxi climbs down under as well.

“don’t you have something you need to attend to?”

“you still talk a lot.” he mumbles examining our surroundings.

it seems as though there’s no exit, just one door in front, which i plan to let mizu explore as much as he wants.

I steady myself off the ground and attempt to launch myself off the wall to latch onto the ridges of the floor above, failing miserably.

“who’s there-..” i heard as my thud echoed throughout. Is that new? did they not hear my thud before? I loose myself in thought once more as I hear a creak. the hanging tapestries move and reveal a door. Something i should’ve been wary of before coming to kill the leader of a human chop shop.

As the newly discovered back door stained in blood creaked open I felt a quick jab to my waist up to my neck. Pulled behind a pillar with a hand around my neck and jaw and my mouth covered shut. In the moment, i lost my breath, a shiver falling down my spine from his cold touch. We listened in silence as 3 pairs of footsteps fell out the room, mumbles and chuckles. Do these men feel pity? Shame? Do they enjoy slaughtering innocent people to sell? The men fall into the next room and I pull my back off of Mizus chest, catching myself before i fall into a deep trance of thought.

i attempt stepping towards the bloody door, only to be held back by my wrist.

Without a word mizu let’s go and steps in front of me, waking towards the door. The room is empty. The remains of an old merchant lay on the table, filling the room with the scent of death.

“do you still care about what happened in kyoto?”

His sudden words perk me up,

what kind of question is that?

“did you care at all?” i snap, maybe a bit too hard on.

“i do.”

he says, facing away from me.

“you didn’t have the time to find me?”

i ask, truly curious why such a man would try to act like he cared.

“i think you stayed in the back of my mind. I have things to accomplish y/n.”

“interesting.” I look off to the side, acknowledging the old remains rotted to the bone, who knows who they could’ve been.

who knows what we could’ve been?

in just a flash i find mizu in front of me, staring down at me. “i need you.”

“excuse me?”

(Absolutely flabbergasted)

“travel with me again.���

“i need you, and your company.”

same full facial expression never faltered.

“maybe you just need my skill?” i find a smile on my face as I leaned against the bloody table, teasing the man who should clearly know Im accepting such an offer. No matter how angry I could’ve been i’ll always take an offer from Mizu.

“i want you, i don’t care about your weapons or your stealth.”

I watched him step closer and admired his hands as he rested them on my waist.

did he truly crave my touch or was he checking for another unknown weapon..?

as his cold hands made their way under my waistband i couldn’t help but give in to his touch, there’s no teasing or denying left for me.

“mizu…” I whisper softly, turning my head away to face the door.

“mm?”

his cold grasp releases one side of me and clutches my jaw turning me back to face him. Without hesitation he pressed a lustful kiss upon my lips and within nanoseconds the connection was back. Pushing him back slightly to create room never breaking said connection, I push myself on the table.

Mizus cold hands run deeper under my waistband, under the silk protecting me.

Before anything I open my eyes and put a hand against mizus chest,

“what about..” and without time to even notice the door Mizus spare knife is flung to stab the door shut.

[youremyheaven]

this is gunna sound so weird... men make my skin crawl. Like im attracted to men but everytime i see a man, my rbf awakens and i become hyper aware of my surroundings 😭

it doesn't help that im attending an all girls college now... any advice on how to ease up pls around them? I find it hard to even want to talk to them 😭 ik all men aren't bad and i may always not be in danger (imagine that in all caps and red) but i just wanna be able behave and think like a normal person around them ( this is so much that i even can't stand strangers)

Loads of luv to you ❤

honestly i hope u meet better men!!! there are some disgusting nasty perverted pieces of shit out there who dont deserve to be around women and i completely get why u would feel repulsed by them.

i wonder if u have malefic influence, they usually struggle the most with the opposite gender

tips on how to ease up around men:

think in terms of energy. dont project anger or hatred because thats what you will see in return. i know this is very triggering and difficult for many people but you HAVE to believe in good to SEE good. despite absolutely everything that ive gone thru, i still believe that people are inherently good, kind and helpful and i see proof of it everyday.

ive had men treat me with dignity, respect and kindness in the shadiest of circumstances and ive had men be nasty to me out in the open, so it just comes down to character. just think of men as people honestly and not as hound dogs about to attack u.

2. imagine them as little boys

sometimes when men are soft or boyish with me, it reminds me of how they mustve been as kids and it warms me. i have two little boy cousins who are 12 and 6 respectively and they both adooooreeee me and want to marry me when they grow up🥺🥺🥺theyre the sweetest kids on the planet and i could never ever feel otherwise, theyre my babies. idk if this is something u can relate to but think of a little boy you're close to, how innocent and silly he is and how you could never see him as a threat or hate him and understand that grown men can be like that too.

3. how we treat people has a lot to do with how people treat us

if you have a rbf and generally act standoffish and cold/distant, then you're probably perceived as being bitchy 😬😬and nevermind men, even women probably find u intimidating or hard to approach. im only saying this because learning how to navigate social situations is 90% of adulthood and the key to personal and professional success.

learn to smile more. i know women hate being told to smile but honestly we should alllll smile more. force yourself to do it until it becomes a habit. be that person who smiles at strangers. dont u feel happy when someone smiles at you??? so in turn, be that person to others!!! <33

learn to get out of your head. most people think too much. i hate spending time with people who talk about everything from a victim pov. like yes sure u/we women, are in a position of disadvantage in many ways, historically speaking but ???? this attitude?? wont get u anywhere. (I'm speaking generally and not about you particularly)

i would say the key is to turn inward and work on yourself. read all those cliche self help books about "how to influence people" yada yada,, learn social etiquette and watch all those youtube gurus who teach soft skills. forget about men and hating them for a second and just focus on self improvement. as you change, youll see the world change with u.

just think of men as people basically. also idk if youre familiar with carl jung but i feel like you have a wounded animus. many women who grew up with an absent (emotionally or otherwise) father grow up to project all that onto men. and in turn have damaging relationships with men!!

im not a man defender and im in no way saying all men are good but i genuinely dont think its healthy to hate, thats all!!

idk if any of this is helpful sikeee but lmk if u have any updates

also lots of love to u too angel!!<3

[yuri-is-online]

I hope im not the only one who finds it kinda annoying when people write mc/prefect as someone who doesn't have basic table manners just so they can be taught by riddle in riddle x readers, or if they're slovenly and ungraceful just so vil can chide and "fix" them in vil x readers, or any other incompetent reader/yuu x competent LI dynamics out there. I know readers are supposed to be "empty" and flexible for many kinds of readers, but it started to feel alot like self-depreciation for me.

I can't say I've seen too many fics with this specific set up, but there's a pretty good chance I ignored and forgot about them. I am more familiar with the Vil concept though, at least I think? But either way I think the issue you might be finding with these things is that they focus on Yuu's incompetence/inability to function as opposed to the potential for intimacy the scenario could create σ(￣、￣=)

This sort of feels like a weird point to bring up, but table etiquette and basic manners can sort of mean two different things. The type of manners you could argue Riddle would want to see expressed at tea/at an unbirthday party could be much more formal than Yuu is used to, which could make for a cute set up for a fic! Picture Riddle trying his best to teach Yuu about etiquette and finding himself having trouble keeping proper decorum, he wants to hold Yuu's hand so badly, he finds himself letting his finger brush up against the back of Yuu's hand while he tries to guide them through what fork to use... or Riddle trying to teach Yuu to dance and getting too caught up in how excited he is to touch them that he forgets to speak (,,>﹏<,,)

And with Vil, I think people like the concept of having someone dote on them and dress them up in expensive things, but there is also a fundamental misunderstanding of Vil's character that a lot of people have where they think he would see someone in basic sweats and assume they need to be "fixed." The main thing Vil desires is for people to work on self improvement and accept nothing less than the best version of themselves. He's not a Kardashian who wants everything airbrushed and the same, he even admits to being privileged in his upbringing and not understanding Neige's struggles in book 6, he's such a well rounded character, maybe the best in the entire game but back to the topic I am actually on-

Walking someone through a skin care routine or washing their hair, especially if they are having a hard time taking care of themselves due to injury or mental distress is something that can be so painfully intimate. People have different ways of caring for themselves and the VOLUMES it speaks to have someone learn and know your language of self love is sosososo important. Makeup is something Vil loves to express himself with, watching him pick out things to use on Yuu so he can express his love through his work shouldn't be about how he is "fixing" Yuu because that's not how Vil would see it. He is speaking to the beauty he already sees and enhancing it with his own, picture him slowly, deliberately, tracing a lip stain onto Yuu's lips and drawing out the process so he can experience what it is like to kiss them without breaching the delicate line his contract has forced him to walk. How he watches Yuu lick their lips later in the night and swears he can feels it; Yuu worries that they're doing something wrong when Vil keeps insisting on doing their make up because he's always so slow about it but really he just wants to place his claim on them in as subtle and intimate a way as possible.

or something i dunno this was just where my mind went

[wxvebreaker]

rules:

HI!!! Okay, so, hey everybody!!! This is not my first rodeo with roleplaying, as I do have quite a few other canon blogs.. heh… if you recognize me.. uhm…!!! WAHH IM SORRY FOR SLACKING OFF ON REPLIES ILL GET TO THEM I SWEAR!!!!!

NONETHELESS! That is not my point, my point is HI! Who can interact and who can’t. Well. Not really, more like I’m trying to say that I’m trying to establish boundaries!!!

DNI: all homophobes, transphobes, ableists, ETC!!! I DO NOT WANT TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH YOU!!! SORRY!!!! Oh also godmodding. So.

please do not: send nsfw, bully anyone on my blog, or be overly violent in character or otherwise, try to initiate a ship without my prior knowledge,

its okay to: do in character hate, be silly, UHMM basically basic etiquette, I guess! I have seen other rpers against it, but I am OKAY WITH NONROLEPLAYERS RPING THREADS AS TO MAYBE FAWN OVER IT IN TAGS OR TO JUST SHARE?

WITH IN CHARACTER HATE: please don’t be overly descriptive or dark with something if you send in something intended to be a threat? ESPECIALLY if it involves minor muses. ESPECIALLY NOT.

I think that’s it, but as I continue to rp I will add onto this list ^^. I am also a minor, so please be especially mindful when going into unsafe territory in terms of rp or otherwise. When interacting with me, I mean.

ABOUT MUSE, IMPORTANT: I do have Mualani, but am not AS familiar as I could be with her character. As I ease into her role, if you have any qualms with my (vague)interpretation, go ahead and share any criticism you may have!

[prettyqueerwitch]

Weave The Liminal

a review

im back ♡ was very depressed for a bit, and then i was in sweden for a while! this is my first read of 2024, and i quite enjoyed it, honestly.

Weave the Liminal by Laura Tempest Zakroff is a wonderful book for beginners and seasoned practitioners. It may not be for everyone, but I think it's a good book for when you're learning/wanting to formulate your path and practice.

Table of Contents

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I found that Zakroff had very insightful points throughout the book. While I felt the book could be shortened a bit, I also found myself finding pieces of information I'd love to use in my practice throughout the entirety of the book.

Zakroff begins the book with her experiences in her path and practice, then going on to explain modern and traditional witchcraft. She has 3 keys to "The Witches Path" (Know Thyself, Maintain Balance, and Accept Responsibility).

She defines the witch and goes through the origin of witchcraft, which I plan on rereading as I found it educational and I wanna look into it more.

The third chapter is the one I found the most important, in my opinion, of course. She talks about RITES (Roots, Inspiration, Time, Environment, Star). These are different things to consider when formulating your path, and I found it so incredibly useful and will be utilizing it in my practice.

Now, while I really resonated with the first half of the book, the second half, specifically the last third, did not resonate with me as much as it was stuff I already knew or already had my own opinion on.

I did enjoy the parts of this talking about 3 sets of 2 keywords. Observe and obscure, listen and speak, and change and rest.

I enjoyed her different definitions of each type of dead (the familiar decreased, the ancestors, the mighty dead, other people's dead, psychopomp, and ghost and residual energy).

She also has what she calls "A Witches Guide to essential etiquette" towards the end of the book.

That sums up the parts I personally enjoyed and/or considered/am considering when relating to my practice.

Zakroff has a very pick what resonates with you and leave what doesn't as you define your own practice vibe, which I agree with. I never felt like I had to change my practice a specific way or be a certain way throughout this book.

She uses her own practice for examples throughout the book, which I enjoyed as I feel it adds to the book and furthers the information.

Her view on Gods and mythology is quite interesting. I enjoy the concept of humanity and culture, always intersecting and changing. She mentions her 'chicken or egg' question about the gods, did they create us, or did we create them.

She works with gods and does not consider herself to worship them, which is how she decides to label it, and I find thats a very valid way of labeling it. There is no pressure to work with deities in this book, which I always found refreshing considering the need to work with deities being a hot topic recent, especially the past 4 years.

I would recommend this book to anyone in the witchcraft or occult community, even if it ends up not resonating with you or if you're like me and only some parts resonated with you, I feel it could be a good read.

☆Ares☆

[ncssian]

time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires, now i’m missing your smile, hear me out. we could just ride around.

a/n: this is soooo long and MAJORLY unedited but it feels perfect for xmas eve so im posting it now. it might even be missing paragraphs but we ride

***

Nesta refused to go fully no-contact with her sisters. To this day, she didn’t know why, but that was how she found herself standing outside Feyre’s house for her mandatory family dinner, held only three times a year.

Three times a year, Nesta had to dress up and submit herself to a painfully awkward night of being left out of conversations and eating mediocre food. Tonight it was for Thanksgiving. She’d long resigned herself to the torture of it all, and she was nothing but grateful that it was only three nights out of the whole year.

That still didn’t make knocking on the door any easier, however.

“Nesta?” a voice behind her asked, immediately raising every hair on her neck. She turned away from the front door to find a familiar face walking up the lit pathway to the manor’s stone porch, approaching her.

Oh God. “Cassian?”

Wow, did he look… different. In the three years since he’d left to work for the Peace Corps, Cassian’s muscles had subtly grown not bigger, but more defined, his clothes now better-fitting. His dark hair was shorter than she’d ever seen it before, no longer wild and untamed, but still long enough to fall near his chin. He looked so tame in comparison to the hulking giant she’d used to know.

He laughed and rushed up to her to sweep her into a crushing bear hug, making her gasp in surprise. They’d never been close enough in the past for a greeting this enthusiastic, but maybe the Peace Corps had made him demented. “How have you been?” he exclaimed, setting her down on her feet and placing a hand at her shoulder so she wouldn’t tip over. “I was wondering whether I’d get to see you tonight.”

Nesta could only open and shut her mouth, no words coming out. “You’re back,” was all she could say.

He grinned wide. His smile had remained the same. “I am.”

Her mind frantically flipped through the encyclopedia of social etiquette. “It’s good to see you again,” she forced out. “How was—life?”

His laugh was quiet, but she didn’t know what was funny. “I should be asking you the same thing. What are you waiting out here in the cold for?” He nudged her softly.

“Just trying to work up the nerve to knock on the door,” she answered honestly.

“I see.” He nodded. “Well, if we both put our heads together, I'm sure we can manage it before dinner is served.”

Was he making fun of her? His manner seemed serious and earnest, and it was confusing the hell out of Nesta.

Just then, the door swung open, a rush of light and warmth spilling out onto the front porch. “I thought I heard a ruckus outside,” Elain said, thin brows furrowing as her gaze swung to Nesta, then quickly smoothing out with a smile as her eyes landed on Cassian. “Come get out of the cold," she said. "We’re so glad you could make it.”

Nesta knew Elain was addressing both of them, but she couldn’t help but feel the last part had been directed to Cassian more than her.

Cassian swept inside with a grin and greeted Elain with a kiss to her cheek, and Nesta had to force herself to look away. Suddenly the hug she’d gotten no longer felt like overkill. A kiss had to mean more than a hug, right?

“You both are a little late, but you haven’t missed much. I’ll bring everyone else to the dining room,” Elain said, before wandering off down one of the mansion’s grand hallways to get the rest of their friends.

Nesta took in a subtle breath, but a deep one nonetheless, as she set about taking her coat off. It was stupid to be so anxious about a simple dinner. In no less than four hours, she'd be tucked in her warm bed with a swoony romance book, and the whole evening would disappear like the fragments of a bad dream. This was nothing.

Cassian came up to her side as they made their way to the dining room, bending down to speak into her ear. "There's so much I want to catch up with you about. I wish I'd known you were going to be here earlier, I would've prepared more."

Nesta's responding look was confused, if not bewildered. Prepared for what? Was there something grating about her presence that required preparation? He kept saying things that sounded like potential jabs in the softest, friendliest manner.

She ran her jittery hands down the sleek low ponytail of her hair, then the blue velvet of her simple dress. "Yes, well." She didn't follow through with the rest of the sentence.

They arrived at the dining room, where it was both a relief and a weight to no longer be alone with just Cassian. Everyone else in her sister's little friend group was already there, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the platters of food and rushing to claim seats at the table.

Nesta heard several exclamations of "Cassian's here!", all of which she ignored as she tried to decide which seat would suit her best tonight. She might have heard Cassian say, "Nesta's here, too," but it was quickly swallowed up and lost to the rest of the room's conversation.

Cassian took a seat next to Azriel and started pulling out the empty chair beside him. His eyes searched for and met Nesta's just as she picked her seat on the opposite side of the table, near the very end. A look of defeat took over his face as Morrigan took the chair beside him. Nesta didn't understand what the look was supposed to mean, but as it was awkward not to smile at someone after a certain amount of eye contact had been made, she offered him a small smile that probably came off as a tiny grimace before looking away.

After a lot of scrambling around, Elain ended up seated on Nesta's right. Not too bad, as conversation with Elain was less likely to make Nesta's skin crawl than with others at the table.

Everyone started piling their plates with food, and Nesta let Elain take her plate to serve her. It was easier than drawing attention to herself by reaching out and getting the food on her own.

"You shouldn't have come so late, Cassian," Feyre said from the head of the table. "You missed all the appetizers, they’re all finished now."

“Don’t tell me you didn’t save me any of Elain’s lobster rolls,” he said with wide eyes, acting offended.

Elain giggled at that, but the sound seemed more calculated than genuine. It probably wasn't nice to think everything that your sister did was calculated, but Nesta wasn't feeling very nice tonight. She felt like staring into her mashed potatoes while dreaming about a handsome man crashing this dinner party and promptly sweeping her off her feet.

Morrigan and Feyre led the conversation by gossiping about some work friend of Rhysand's they'd run into on their latest shopping trip, and time melded around Nesta and held her captive. She imagined she'd been painted to match the printed wallpaper behind her, rendering herself invisible to the rest of the room.

To everyone except one, that was. But everytime she accidentally made eye contact with Cassian, she looked away before he could even register it. By the time she looked back, he'd refocused on whatever jokes or stories his friends were telling.

Thirty minutes passed by without anyone asking Nesta a question. She counted each one, until—

"So what do you do these days?"

It took a long moment of awkward silence before Nesta looked up from her plate to find Cassian staring at her, his eyes warm. She realized the question had been directed at her. "Me?" she said in disbelief, because she needed the confirmation.

"No, one of these other losers," he teased. Some made noises of mock-offense, while others stifled their laughter.

Nesta shifted uncomfortably at how all the attention in the room had shifted to her. Being ignored wasn't fun, true, but this was far worse. "I run a dance studio," she answered. She didn't mention anything about how she was also a ghostwriter of romance novels on the side, although maybe she might have admitted it if they'd been alone.

Cassian's eyes lit up, and he imperceptibly leaned forward over the table. "No way. What kind of dance?"

"Um, just pole for now." Normally she'd leave it at that, but something in her wanted to give the full picture to Cassian. "I'm working on hiring more teachers and splitting it into contemporary and hip-hop-based classes, though."

"No ballet?"

She shook her head, distracting herself from his heavy gaze by taking a bite of salad. Ballet had been Nesta's first love, even more so than the ballroom dancing her grandmother had forced upon her, but she'd been bitter for a long time at how puberty and big boobs had taken away any chance she'd had to dance professionally. More than that, its ways were too rigid and painful, and Nesta would rather teach students how to let go rather than restrain themselves.

"That's crazy," he said, grinning. "I never imagined you doing anything than classical."

Right. He'd seen tapes of her old performances once a long time ago, though she was surprised he still remembered them.

"Nesta got the idea from dancing at that strip club a few years ago," Morrigan interjected with a wave of her fork.

Nesta's face flamed with heat at the misinformation, because even though there was nothing wrong with being a stripper, there were certain things you couldn't say to certain people without being judged for it. Like announcing that you wrote erotica in your free time, or that you were bisexual.

"It was just a regular club, and I was a go-go dancer," she corrected, as if that would lighten the blow. Rhysand made a noise that implied this was not much better than stripping.

"Holy shit, how much have I missed?" Cassian sat back in his chair in disbelief, not picking up on the light waves of discomfort that floated around the group whenever Nesta's past was brought up. Then again, he'd never found anything about her to be uncomfortable.

After Feyre and Rhysand had cut off all sources of her income, she’d been forced to find a real job. Dancing was the only thing she’d been good at doing, and she knew from the seedy bars she frequented that one of the nearby nightclubs was hiring. Thanks to her body and skills, she’d been able to indulge her alcohol problem off tips alone, at least until she’d made the decision to get her life together. That had been a year and a half ago.

But she couldn’t tell any of this to Cassian. She didn’t need to, either, because Amren answered his question for her. “Nesta's unrecognizable from when you last saw her, isn't she?" she drawled. "Don't worry; I promise her personality's still the same."

"Indeed," Rhysand grumbled, and a few others laughed.

Cassian still had that smile glued to his face, but it now looked frozen and false, as if he was no longer happy but didn’t know what to do about it.

But the conversation was out of his control now, due to the unfortunate fact that once attention landed on Nesta, it was usually difficult to make it go away. The next thing she knew, she was being bombarded with questions from all sides of the table.

"Were you late tonight because of that old Toyota again? I told you you could afford a new car if you took up my job offer."

"One of my friends took a class at your studio and said it wasn't too bad. You should give me a free membership so I can see for myself."

"What's your new address again?" This one from Feyre. "I need it for my Christmas cards."

Nesta blinked hard, head spinning at everyone's words being thrown at her, wondering how unacceptable it would be if she just—snapped. Wondering if maybe she could get herself uninvited from these things from good.

"I—" Mor started to lob another question.

“Let the woman fucking breathe, Jesus,” Cassian chuckled into his wine glass, cutting her off. But it was targeted at the whole room to hear, and the bitterness beneath it was clear.

The room went still. Awkwardness, sharp and cold as ice, swept over the dinner table until Nesta felt like her bones were frozen in place.

When no one responded, Cassian took a large gulp of wine and set the glass down with a dull thud. “I mean, if we want her to come around more often maybe we shouldn’t be giving her reasons to never visit,” he said, his voice too loud in the quiet room.

“We’re just catching up since we never get to see her,” Feyre said, sounding hurt and defensive at the same time.

Rhysand’s barely-audible growl implied he wanted to kill whoever had put that hurt in her tone—which in this case and most cases, was Nesta.

“That’s enough,” a delicate but firm voice beside Nesta said. She felt a soft hand rest on her arm, and looked up to find Elain’s sympathetic brown eyes watching her. But when Elain opened her mouth to speak again, all that came out was, “Eat more, will you? You’re so skinny it’ll make the rest of us look bad.”

Nesta had actually been gaining healthy weight lately, but for some unfathomable reason this was Elain’s attempt at diffusing the hostility in the room, so Nesta hummed a sound that technically counted as a response and busied herself with picking at her cut of roast beef.

Her lack of aggression seemed to satisfy the table, and one by one, people slowly went back to ignoring her and redirecting their focus to another topic of conversation.

Not even a minute later, Morrigan cackled far louder than required at something Azriel had said, causing Nesta's shoulders to inch up toward her ears. The hand that held her fork had fallen still, and Nesta’s other hand was fluttering subtly on the table, her index finger digging sharply into the thin skin around her thumbnail. The pain was a welcome balm to her agitated nerves.

She forced her hand to straighten out and lie still when she noticed Cassian's gaze on her. The action only sent her pent-up nerves straight to her spine, where she feared they would spontaneously combust and cause a meltdown in front of the whole table.

But then she met his eyes, and something in her heart choked, then settled.

She’d long forgotten the true hazel of his eyes. Hazel could be any color and every color, but looking at Cassian now, even from this distance in this weak lighting, her brain was starting to fill in the gaps of her memory. So many shades of brown and yellow speckled with blue-green colliding together, reminding her of undiscovered planets.

He was the first to pull his gaze away, but it was slow and required effort. Spell broken, Nesta’s own gaze dropped to her plate. At the very least, she no longer felt like ripping her fingernails off.

Nesta was left fairly alone for the rest of the meal, but the odd tension that had formed with Cassian and spread over the rest of the room didn’t dissipate. Even when everyone once again became lost to bantering and arguing with each other, Nesta felt the sense of awareness burning along every line of her body. She tried telling herself it was just in her head, but when she caught Amren sneaking a glance at her out of the corner of her eye, it was undeniable.

As more and more people finished their plates, they got up from the table to use the bathroom, talk on the phone, or wander into the adjacent drawing room to make use of its minibar. Among the noise, Nesta quietly excused herself and made a beeline for the emptiest part of the first floor of the house.

Alone in the kitchen, she finally allowed herself a deep intake of air. It felt like her first breath all night.

Shuffling toward the liquor cabinet, she pulled the first bottle of red wine she could find and grabbed herself a glass. Low footsteps behind her made her look over her shoulder before she could open the bottle.

It was just Cassian. Though the sight of him made her insides flutter, she didn't think he would judge her for drinking, so she turned back to her glass and uncorked the bottle.

"I needed some air," he spoke after a few moments of silence. Nesta nodded as she filled her glass perhaps a little too high. He took a few more steps toward the counter where she stood, and she belatedly realized that he was trying to engage in conversation with her.

Her brain scrambled for something to say, and just as she thought of asking him if he wanted some wine as well, Cassian was speaking again. "I'm sorry for everyone's behavior back there. It was super embarrassing."

Oh no, Nesta internally groaned. She'd almost rather put up with Feyre's lecturing and Amren's nitpicking than deal with an apology.

"They're not usually like this," he promised. "Someone must have spiked their drinks tonight."

Nesta didn't bother telling him that he was wrong. She didn't know how to react to such an unexpected statement. "There's nothing to apologize for," she said, sounding stilted and awkward. "I'm not really a sensitive person."

"Still," he said, looking up at her, "the vibes in this place are so weird tonight." He shuddered to himself. "Don't you feel weird?"

Was he referring to his friends, the sharp-edged way they spoke to her, or something else? "Maybe because it's your first time back in a long time." Nesta shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Well, I'm not. In fact, I can think of a dozen other things I'd rather be doing right now than having dinner here."

Nesta glanced at him, her eyes widened in surprise. "Haven't you missed your friends, though? They're so excited to see you."

He shook his head. "This is honestly, like, our fifth meeting together since I got back. I see them all the time."

"Ah."

"What about you?" he pressed. "Do you want to stay or go?"

Nesta looked around the kitchen as if someone else might have walked in during their conversation and he was talking to them instead. "What do you mean?" she said.

He let out a small laugh. "Do you want to ditch this dinner?"

"But—wouldn't that be rude?"

He shrugged as if the consequences didn't matter much to him. "The door's right there." He gestured with his head toward the hallway leading to the foyer.

Nesta didn't know what overcame her. She chugged as much of her glass of wine as she could and set it down with a thump, looking at Cassian. Less than a minute later, they were speeding out the front door on quiet feet, stifling laughter and the jingle of car keys as they went.

***

"What about my car?" Nesta asked as Cassian started up his Ford truck, turning the heat up to full blast.

"We'll come back for it later tonight," he promised, shifting into drive and pulling away from the hulking mansion. "After everyone's gone, so you don't have to run into them."

"That'll take hours, though," she said, chewing the inside of her cheek. There was never such thing as a short dinner when Feyre's inner circle were gathered together.

"I've got hours to kill," he shrugged, then glanced over at her. "You can go home whenever you want, though. I can drop you off or take you back to your car."

Nesta took half a second to mourn her dream of cuddling in bed with her books all night, then got past it. This wasn't such a bad replacement for her former plans, anyhow.

"What should we do?" she asked, hesitant excitement bubbling in her stomach. Cassian opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. "Should we go to the movies? I wanted to see that new horror comedy—"

"I thought it wasn't out for another week."

"Oh." She sat back, trying to think of something else. "Is Nude still in theaters?"

Cassian chuckled. "Don't think so, Nes."

She ignored how the nickname made her feel. "What about Back to Black?"

"Director's a creep."

"The new Marvel movie?"

"Terrible reviews, and you hate mega-franchises."

True. "...Maybe we can just keep driving around?" she finally suggested.

Cassian surrendered with a cheery grin. "I love that idea." He glided into the right lane and made a turn that led them straight onto the highway. The truck hummed as it accelerated from 45 to 70.

In the dark lit only by the dashboard lights, Nesta kicked her heels off and stretched out in her seat, letting herself smile. She could hardly remember why she'd been struggling for air back at that dinner. This, driving at night with Cassian in silence, was one of the most relaxing feelings she'd ever experienced.

Even so, she was surprised to find she didn't mind it much when Cassian eventually interrupted the quiet.

“I really did miss you.” His words took her by surprise, and it must have showed in the look she threw him.

He chuckled lowly. “Is it that hard to believe?”

It was, actually, though Nesta didn’t tell him that. “I just don’t remember us being that close,” she said, shrugging. They’d rarely talked without Feyre or one of her friends in the room, and when they had talked alone, the conversations hadn’t been very deep. He’d tried to tease and challenge her in the beginning, as she was sure he did with every worthy person who came his way, but when Nesta was unresponsive to his efforts, he eventually dropped the asshole act.

“We weren’t,” Cassian agreed, “but sometimes your favorite people are the ones you see the least.”

That made Nesta’s breath hitch. He couldn’t mean it the way she thought he meant it. She couldn’t be his favorite.

"I had a huge crush on you when we first met, you know," he added.

Nesta’s shoulders deflated, in either relief or disappointment, she didn’t know. Of course; that was what he’d meant. She gave him a dry look in response. "Yeah, I sensed that."

He did a double-take from the road to her. "You did?"

It had been painfully obvious any time they were in the same room together, with the weight of Cassian's gaze feeling like hefting a barbell of anxiety and discomfort and embarrassment. She remembered how her skin would itch with how she blushed, how her throat would close up and her breathing would shallow out. It had felt like suffering from an allergic reaction.

Nesta didn't say any of that to Cassian now, though. "What made you stop liking me?" she asked instead, propping her elbow on the passenger-side window and leaning her head against her fist. She was genuinely curious to hear his answer. It had happened before she'd fallen too deep into her hole of depression and brought shame onto Feyre and the Archeron name, so it couldn't have been the fact that she'd been a hot mess. "Was I too rude? Too quiet? Too boring?" How had she let him down?

"What?" Cassian looked over at her like she'd gone insane. "No."

"Then what was it that made you stop liking me?" Because Cassian had stopped liking Nesta at a certain point. After a few awkward conversations and a failed attempt to spend time alone with her, Cassian had pulled away from Nesta as if he'd never known her in the first place. The heavy gazes lessened, then stopped altogether, and the conversation would rarely go past a friendly "hello" up until the day Cassian had left for the Peace Corps.

Cassian bit down on his lip, looking both amused and flustered by her scientific questioning. "I didn't stop liking you. I just stopped chasing you."

That information took Nesta by surprise. She was stunned, still figuring out what to say in response when Cassian continued, "I was too young and too stupid back then. I didn't know how to make decisions for myself, and I let other people convince me not to go after the things I wanted. I regretted it for a long time while I was away overseas, but eventually I just had to get over it, you know?"

Nesta blinked, staring out the windshield and saying nothing.

He'd wanted her. Even when she was drinking and fucking her way through every bar and club in the city, he'd wanted her, all the way up until the day he left—and even after that, if she was understanding him correctly.

"Anyway, what about you?" Cassian said, changing the topic. "You been seeing anyone lately?"

"Why? Are you asking for yourself?" She meant it to be taunting, but her natural deadpan tone made most things she said sound serious.

Cassian made a noise that sounded like a choked cough. "It was just a question."

She tried not to be disappointed at his response, even though it was no surprise that he was over her by now. Why would he be interested in reigniting something that had never sparked in the first place?

"No," she finally answered, her voice sounding small but not weak. "I haven't really been interested in meeting people lately, not even for casual hookups."

He threw a glance over at her, the surprise subtle but there. "Can I ask why?"

She shrugged, never having had to explain the answer to anyone else before. "I don’t like putting myself in situations where men want my body. I already feel like a blowup sex doll as it is, so it’s better to not date at all."

"Why would you feel like that?" Cassian said, the slightest hint of alarm and concern creeping into his tone. "Did somebody call you that?"

She shifted in her seat, feeling awkward at being put on the spot. "I don’t know, it’s just the way my body’s built. I’m always getting asked whether I do porn or have an OnlyFans. People always give me their unwanted opinions on my boobs or my hips or my butt."

"Who said that to you?" he demanded.

"I was a go-go dancer, remember?"

"That's not an answer." His voice was hard. "Or an excuse."

"I only told you because you asked why I don't date," she said sharply, suddenly cold. "I don't need your pity." And she was regretting opening up so much to him so soon.

Cassian opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off before he could decide to pity her anyway. "What would you do with the names of my harrassers, anyway? Find them and beat them up? Give them a real piece of your mind?" she mocked. "You can barely stand up to your own friends when they're being dickheads, tough guy."

Cassian made a choking sound, which soon devolved into wheezing, and when Nesta finally looked over at him she found that his shoulders were shaking with restrained laughter. Her brows scrunched up in confusion, her nerves getting whiplash from the sudden shift in mood.

"Holy shit, there she is," he barely got out between laughs of disbelief. "Where the hell was she all this time?"

"Who?" Her bafflement must have been written all over her face.

"The proud Nesta I first met so many years ago," he stated. "The one who'd rather choke to death on her own arrogance than give in to someone else."

Nesta felt like he'd just pointed to an obvious crumbling corpse that everyone else was trying hard to forget was in the room. That prideful Nesta was the opposite of the person she was trying to be these days, even though her ghost might have made an appearance when she'd been a little unnecessarily rude to Cassian just now.

She only shook her head, denying that old version of herself's right to exist. "I don't have the time or energy to be that person anymore. And I hate getting into fights. Losing all the time gets exhausting fast."

Instead of responding with something witty, Cassian drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel, his tongue poking into his cheek as he clearly thought something over. "The Nesta I knew never used to lose an argument," he finally said.

"A lot of things change once you lose all your financial and social capital," she murmured, almost too quiet for him to hear. It was the closest they'd gotten all night to touching upon that uncomfortable period of her life—Alcoholic Whore Gone Wild, as Amren had coined it. But she couldn't bear exposing that part of her past to Cassian, even though he'd already witnessed it with his own two eyes. She refused to say more, not wanting him to remember what a mess she'd been only a few years ago.

"Is it Rhys and the rest of the guys?" Cassian said, plowing right through the topic she was trying to avoid. "Did they outnumber you into changing so you'd fit into his PR campaigns or something?"

Cassian was scarily close to being on the nose of what had actually gone down, and it made Nesta flare her nostrils in defense. "I don't think we're close enough to be talking about things like this." She was back to being cold, even though it required more effort this time. "Change the subject."

"Fine," he said casually, though not even the dark could hide the subtle tightness of his jaw. "Let's go back to that sex-doll thing then. Did that start before or after I left?"

"Are you my therapist?" she felt the need to resist against him.

"Do you ever answer questions without another question?" he shot back. When Nesta still refused to budge, he released a sigh. "You just never seemed to me like someone who gave a shit about how others saw you. That was what made you Nesta. So yeah, sue me if I wanna know more about how your pretty little brain works."

Nesta swallowed his words like a rough pill, doing her best not to linger on the word "pretty". Now that he didn’t seem so uncomfortably shocked by her confession, she twisted toward him like she was telling a juicy story. Honestly, she felt a perverted excitement at getting to discuss parts of her life that she never got to speak about otherwise. "I used to not care that much about it," she started, "but one day while I was alone at home I saw my ass in skinny jeans in the mirror. I don’t know, it just flipped a switch in me. I felt so dirty. Like an object to be used instead of a person. And I realized that was how most people probably perceived me, too. It freaked me out so bad I just retreated from men and the dating pool altogether."

She felt dirty going out in certain clothes, and dirtier still when other people looked at her in those clothes. Even the dress she’d worn tonight, formfitting with the neckline cut out to accentuate her chest, had required her to avoid full-length mirrors while getting ready. She knew it wasn’t normal to feel the way she felt, but she also knew there wasn’t much to be done about it.

Cassian let out a low whistle. "That’s fucked."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"No." His answer was smooth. "But I think you'll get mad at everything else I want to say, so I'll leave it at that. It's really fucked you have to feel that way, Nesta."

Her swallow was tight, and she was more than a little surprised. Never in a million years could the Nesta of three years ago have imagined Cassian talking with her about things like this, and more than that, comforting her.

In truth, she had thought about Cassian too while he was gone. She wouldn’t say she’d missed him, because she didn’t know how to miss something she never had, but there’d been an empty longing on the rare occasions she thought of him. A bittersweet desire for what could have been, if only she’d been less of a mess and more of an easy person to be around.

She didn’t know how to tell him this, so she settled for, “For what it's worth, I really am happy that you're back.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cassian stifle a smile. He roughly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You wanna go to Town Square and see the Christmas lights?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay.”

Nesta tucked her feet beneath herself and got comfortable, and they continued driving in companionable silence. Twinkling holiday lights and towering decorations passed in a blur outside the windows, and at one point Cassian stopped at an In-N-Out to order fries and a milkshake. "You didn't eat much back at the house," was his only explanation as he handed the food over to Nesta.

She accepted the kindness without complaint, happily munching on fries and melting into her heated seat. Something about the warm truck made her forget time was moving, but the next time she pulled her gaze away from the windshield to check the clock, she saw it was already midnight.

Cassian seemed to take note of it at the same time she did. “Damn, I have an early morning tomorrow…” He trailed off, not stating the obvious—that their little getaway drive had to come to an end.

“Me too,” Nesta lied, so she didn’t sound stupid for wanting to stay like this, driving in silence.

She turned on her phone for the first time all night, finding no less than five missed calls and a handful of upset texts from her sisters. Holding back a grimace, she shut her phone off again. "Maybe you can drop me off at home instead of at Feyre’s."

"You sure?" Cassian looked over at her. "What about your car?"

She waved a hand. "I'll get it back later. I just want to be home right now."

Cassian didn’t hesitate before making a U-turn off the left lane. “You still live in Brentwood?” he asked casually.

Brentwood, with the roach-infested grimy one-bedroom she’d inhabited in the depths of her depression, back when it was all she could afford and all she could stomach to come home to after a long day of self-hatred.

Unlike most, Cassian had never judged her for it. He’d even shown up on her ratty doorstep one Christmas Eve to drop off gifts from her sisters, saying nothing but that he hoped she would be okay, and to have a merry Christmas. There was no direct mention of her obvious miserable state, but no tense avoidance of it, either. It had been the most ordinary interaction Nesta’d had that year: short, sweet, and simple.

Nesta blinked herself out of the sudden memory. Being reunited with Cassian was bringing back too many moments she’d forgotten had happened. She shook her head, even though he probably couldn’t see. “I moved to Goldridge.”

“Ooh, fancy,” he teased. He pulled out his phone and held it out to her. “Put your address into the GPS.”

Clicking on his phone, Nesta found notifications for several missed calls and texts on his screen as well. They were at least double the amount she had, but she didn’t let her eyes linger on the messages as she swiped up onto the home screen. Of course he didn’t have a password on his phone. He could be so dumb sometimes.

Typing her address into his Maps app, she turned the navigation on and set his phone down in the cupholder between them.

Cassian glanced over to it and squinted to read her address while he drove. "That's only twenty minutes away from where I live."

"Really?" Nesta perked up, intrigued. In the past, Cassian had always been an hour or so away, considering the heavy traffic between Velars and it's poorer outskirt cities. Now he was basically her neighbor. "But isn’t it far from your friends and family?”

She'd purposely chosen her current home for the distance it placed between her and said friends and family.

Cassian shrugged as he merged onto the highway. “Not too far, but not too close, either.”

The rest of the drive passed with light conversation between them. Addicted to how the low rumble of his voice paired with the darkness of the night roads made her feel fuzzy and sleepy, Nesta let Cassian ramble to her about his time in Tunisia while she leaned back in her seat, her eyes millimeters away from drooping shut.

Sometime later, Cassian pulled up to the curb of her brownstone townhouse and put the truck into park. He let out a low whistle as he inspected the tall windows and the quality brickwork, then looked back at Nesta, who was still blinking the sleep out of her eyes, with an embarrassed grin. “I’m a fool. I completely forgot to ask how you ended up with your dance studio.”

Nesta opened her mouth to tell him about her business, but Cassian shook his head fast. “Don’t tell me now. I want to hear the whole story, sometime when the night isn’t right about to end.”

Sometime other than now…? “What do you mean?” she voiced.

He met her gaze with serious intention, no amusement or nervousness to be found. “I’d like to see you again, Nesta Archeron.”

The words hung between them like the start of a promise.

Despite the sudden warmth flooding her insides, Nesta was hesitant with her answer. She still didn't completely trust Cassian—nor herself when she was around him. She didn't want to spiral into obsession over him just for him to break her heart. She still needed to test the rock face of this thing between them, checking for cracks and loose areas that could give way. “I’ll think about it," she finally said.

Cassian's lips slowly curled up into a clever smile, looking like he'd just won a prize. "Give me your keys." He held his broad hand out.

Nesta frowned. "What for?"

"I'll bring your car over in the morning. It'll be a quick drop-off."

"You really don't need to..." She trailed off as Cassian reached over and stuck his hand in her tiny purse, quickly finding and pulling out the shiny keys. He jingled them in her face. "Thanks for these," he said, as if she were the one doing him a favor.

She opened her mouth, closed it, then nodded. She'd given up on trying to keep pace with their conversations, especially not when he rendered her speechless so often. "I should get inside now," she said.

"Don't freeze on the way to the door," he said, even though it couldn't have been more than a ten second walk. Again, was he teasing or being genuine? Or somehow both at the same time?

"Get home safe," she responded, because that was the only phrase her encyclopedia for social etiquette held right now. She exited the car and reached inside again to grab her purse. She might have left it behind so she'd have an excuse to linger in the pinecone-scented warmth of his truck for a bit longer. Eventually, she had to force her head out of the front seat, away from Cassian's kind smile and gorgeous eyes. "Goodnight, Cassian." Nesta shut the door between them, eager to end their interaction quickly so she could go inside and spend the whole night thinking about him.

Even with the door shut and the windows too dark to make out Cassian's face, Nesta swore she could feel it in her bones when he murmured back, "Goodnight, Nesta."

***

a/n: the gifts were not from her sisters…but that’s a story for later (never)

tags:

@rarephloxes @moodymelanist @arinbelle @sayosdreams @bridgertononmymind @live-the-fangirl-life @a-court-of-valkyries @secretlovelybeauty @humanexile @helion-ism @my-fan-side @royaltykxx @xoblivisci @planet-faerie @katekatpattywack @imagine-me @meridainthedisneyland @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @rainbowcheetah512 @valkyriewarriors @loosingdreams @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @perseusannabeth @that-golden-lyre @swankii-art-teacher @laylaameer01 @awesomelena555 @claralady @ghostlyrose2 @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @cassianscool @wannawriteyouabook @everything-that-i-love @sv0430 @xstarlightsupremex @faeriebambula

[skiddlylokius]

Lokius X Avengers 2012 Teaser

"what the–" The time door suddenly closed so fast that Loki barely got Mobius' feet out. He never really knows what happens if half your body gets closed by a time door. Maybe it rips your body in half, who knows?

"We're fucked." Mobius mutters under his breath as and slaps the wonky Timepad on his hand. Damn you, X-05. He really did a number on his gadget. "This thing won't work, and I don't have my own on me."

"What do you mean it won't work? give me that." Loki snatches the timepad from mobius and presses various buttons and slaps in on his hands, instead it turned off.

"That was amazing of you, Loki. Now give me that" Mobius immediately snatches it from the God's hands and slipped it inside his inner coat's pocket.

"How are we gonna go back? We're supposed to try to find Sylvie."

"Calm down. I'm sure Hunter B-15 would notice our absence and track us, for the meantime we should blend in." Mobius said before finally having the chance to actually see his surroundings and let it sink in. "What year did i put on the timepad again?"

"2012"

"That fucker." Mobius clenched his hand while looking around the complete ruins of New York. "He set us up."

"I don't understand, what do you mean he set us up."

"Look around, Loki. This place looks familiar to you?" He says while pointing the debris that scattered along the road from skyscrapers and cement.

"Oh. I get it now." Loki sucked in a breath secretly, knowing the same fiery scenes along New York. "This is definitely not the way i see myself seeing them after my manic episode."

"Agreed, but whatever can we do. There's no way out."

"Should I change my appearance now?" Loki asks, kicking a rock underneath his loafers.

"Not yet anyway, We're in the middle of a ruined city, im sure they haven't se–" Mobius stopped mid sentence as a gust of strong wind slashed between their bodies. The Mjolnir stopping midair infront of them as a warning as the clear blue skies turned gray and roared with thunder.

"So much for that camouflage." Loki whispered to himself, shielding his head from the possible onslaught of headache known as Thor.

Without a second wasted, Thor descended from the heaven like the God he is along with his little superhero friends. The hammer gravitating toward its master.

"Loki, you shall come with us." Thor's command boomed as Loki winced, reminding him of Odin with the whole 'im better than you and you will kneel' bravado.

Loki wrinkled his nose and said a resounding 'No.'

"I'm a big fan, the name's Mobius M. Mobius. Nice to meet all of you." He stretched out a hand and no one shook it. He puts his hands down and slipped it inside his pocket. "Bummer."

"You could've just left, Loki. Why would you come back?" Captain America asked Loki, earning himself a side eye from Tony Stark.

"I don't know what kind of godly etiquettes you learned but im pretty sure that's not how you welcome an escaped fugitive Cap. You're a little outdated but that's fine, all you need is a little tune up."

"Will you stop yapping, Tony?"

"This gonna be one hell of a reunion." Mobius mumbled under his breath.

ps. you can click the lokius x avengers 2012 tag to find the updates for this, thank you! send asks!

[kabukibun]

hello.... this is my first time sending an anon (⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ;) apologies in advance for whatever tumblr etiquette i might be breaking (and for my bad grammar). im still figuring things out even though ive been a tumblr user for years now! (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)

the scenario u were talking about, of dottore creating a puppet for scara, it makes me feel giddy(?) when imagining it. ive actually been thinking of a similar scenario in the past except the idea i had was that the puppet is based off of somebody that scara knew from when he was kabukimono (just because dottore was feeling a little silly and wanted to mess with him). would scara kill it because he thinks that dottore is mocking him or is he too attached to that person that he'll end up keeping it and maybe making puppet babies with it ⊙⁠o⊙? the possibilities of what he might do to that poor puppet is fascinating!

anyway i love your blog... ive been lurking here since i first read your kabukimono oneshot (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠) i hope you're doing well! have a nice day (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

hihi! no worries! your ask was perfect <3 personally, there's no need for etiquette when shooting me an ask! just be nice to me haha

BUT AHHHH no way we were literally thinking the same thing??? i decided not to add that in the post in the end but it was definitely on my mind.... like i said, very similar to bride of chucky where his former lover's soul gets transferred to the doll.

i suppose in this case, it's just appearance wise. although this does little to soothe the dissonance scara is experiencing. since this is pre-wanderer, scara might want to dispose of the puppet almost immediately since it's just a reminder of his past and evidence of dottore's power over him. so he might try to, but seeing the puppet weep as they beg not to be killed with his lover's face....

don't blame him for kissing and licking those tears away. and oops, both of their clothing has been taken off, and now he's slipping inside, hissing as feels a familiar yet new clenching around his cock.

perhaps by dottore's will, it's very easy for the puppet to get pregnant. she hasn't been "alive" for long and she's already carrying scara's children. he's very happy with the results, encouraging this relationship for his own motives. yes, dottore made the puppet in scara's past lover's appearance specifically for this end result. plus, it's fun for him to see scara be emotionally tortured.

thank you!! ahh it's been so long since the oneshot. hopefully more to come soon! i'm doing okay! hope you have a nice day as well!!