#to which i say: don’t care. give me pretty colors

[bright-and-burning]

my hot take: i think they should institute a minimum paint usage so they stop de-cuntifying the cars to reduce weight

[dreamyberry]

Anybody else imagines given situations thinking they would be fun but when they become reality they’re an absolute nightmare or embarrassing

[paperultra]

hammock.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive

“You’re blushing.”

“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”

You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.

“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.

His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”

“Not even if you hated me?”

“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”

(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)

Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.

Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”

He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”

The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.

“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”

The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.

You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.

“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”

“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”

“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”

“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”

He visibly droops. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”

The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.

You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.

“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)

“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.

With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.

“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”

“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”

Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."

“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”

“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”

The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.

“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

The Lookalike

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis. 

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, crying!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Author's note: This is now a series! Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7

The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument.

“What the fuck, Val? You can’t just come in here and dump a fucking body on my fucking floor. Christ.” The first voice was a man’s, the intonation weary rather than angry. He walked towards you, each footstep reverberating through the floor and through your tender skull. “Look, I don’t want to be in the same room with you right now.”

“This isn’t a body.” The second man spoke from behind you, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. Dimly, you took stock of your situation. You were on the floor. Your head hurt. Your body felt weird.

“One of your sluts, then. I don’t fucking care, just get it out of here.”

“No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.”

No, your body wasn’t just painful, but really weird, like all of your joints weren’t quite where you remembered them. You were pretty sure your ears were in the wrong place. What had happened?

“Oh, fuck you, Val. I don’t have a-” The man in front of you stopped mid sentence, an audible intake of breath. “Oh. Oh, fuck. What the fuck, Val?”

The second man made a pleased noise deep in his throat, and laughed. “See? I know what you really want.”

“Fuck me, that’s, uh, some resemblance.” The first man’s voice slowed, tone shifting from annoyance to something closer to awe. He moved closer, and you felt the air shift as he crouched next to you, getting a closer look. “Where did you get them?”

“We had some idiots posted near the east side boundary who were meant to look out for Alastor. This one was just lying in the street. Wrong color, but you know the saying- life gives you lemons, you see how many you can insert into one slut.”

“Fucking hell.” The first man leaned in closer, and you squinted open your eyes. Blue was most of what you could see. Glowing blue. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you gave an involuntary sound, a static crackle and a whine like a capacitor with a faulty mount. “Oh fuck, they even sound like him! Val!”

“Whatever you say, snookums.” Val exhaled again, the air moving as he walked away. “Pheremones on the cabinet if you need them, you can thank me when you’re done with your new toy.”

“Where am I?” you asked, your voice feeling deeply unfamiliar, a coarse, crackling edge to it. Groggily, you lifted your head, still squinting. The man who had stayed was glowing blue, and you squinted at him uneasily, your eyes not quite working as you expected. Where were your glasses? “Who are you?”

“Oh, fuck, that voice is so fucking close. This is so great. Hey, can you look at me real quick?” A blue hand caught the bottom of your chin, guiding your head, and you found yourself staring into a rectangle of blue. “Can you say I’m sorry Vox?”

“Who’s Vox?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “Why are you a television?”

“Ohh fuck.” The man let your chin drop, withdrawing his touch. “You really are new here, aren’t you? Fucking Val.” He sighed, and as your eyes adjusted further, you could see his face was digital, a pattern dancing across the screen. “Alright, first off, I’m Vox. Let’s get you up.”

His hand around your forearm, Vox helped you to your feet. Which you didn’t have. You had hooves. You looked away, feeling faintly nauseous, and nearly tripped as soon as you were standing, only Vox’s arm holding you up. You made another sound of distress, a static whine.

“Hey, hey.” Vox’s tone shifted again, from his previous intense interest in you to something softer. “You’ll be okay. Let’s get you to the bed.”

Stumbling, you made it to the bed, and Vox lowered you carefully onto the sheets. They were a dark blue, the thread count so high they were almost silky to the touch.

You pulled your legs up onto the bed and started feeling the length of them with your fingers, the familiar knee to the unfamiliar cleft of the hoof, your panic continuing to rise. “What’s happening to me? Is this even real?”

“Fuck me that’s hot,” breathed Vox, his gaze on your hooves for a moment before he tore it away. He sat beside you, hesitating before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Yes, this is real. Everyone goes through this, y’know. I’m a fuckin-” he gestured to his face. “You get used to it.”

Alarm flooded your body. Used to this? With your legs too long, and your ears- and whatever the fuck was growing out of the top of your head- you didn’t even want to think about that. Tears welled up hot in your eyes, and you swallowed down a sob, something that came out sounding like the pop of a small capacitor bursting.

Vox watched you with a hungry fascination. “Hey,” he said, reaching across to brush the wetness from your cheeks. “It’s hard. Fuck, I know it’s hard. Let me take care of you, okay? I can take care of you.” His arm snaked around your shoulders, and you found yourself pressed against Vox’s chest, his other hand a gentle pressure at the small of your back. Vox smelled faintly of hot plastic and windex, but his body was warm, and welcoming, and you nuzzled into his collar as the tears came, half static sobs that shook from your diaphragm up through your shoulders.

“Hey, baby deer, it’ll be okay.” Vox’s palm smoothed your back, rubbing slow circles over your shoulderblades as you cried. “I’ll take good care of you, you’ll see.” His claws went to your collar, undoing the top button of your shirt with thumb and forefinger.

You looked down, surprised, as Vox undid the second button. “What are you-”

You paused, staring into his eyes as you considered your situation. The other guy had dragged you here as a gift. Vox clearly wanted sex. He was warm and his hands were deft, and you were all alone in a strange new place. You had one piece of leverage, and that was your resemblance to whoever this Alastor guy was. Your best bet, realistically, was to play dumb, spread your legs, and negotiate once you had a better grasp of the situation. Or murder him in his sleep, either worked. If you started asking too many questions you risked Vox realizing you had a brain.

“What are you thinking?” Vox asked, hands paused over the third button of your shirt.

What was the dumbest, sluttiest answer you could give to that? You thought fast, improvising. “How do I kiss you?” you asked, blinking away tears. “I mean, can you kiss-”

Vox gave a toothy, slightly superior grin. “Oh, that? C’mere.” Saying that, he put his hand on the back of your head, and pulled you close. Your nose nearly touching the screen, you could feel the heat of him. He was bright so you closed your eyes, your lips pressing against the flatness. And then. Lips. A curve in the glass, and an opening. He probed his tongue against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him inside. The feel of his tongue was like the surface of the screen but more intense, a throbbing electrical signal as it twined against yours. His tongue was also huge, large enough to fill your mouth and extend down your throat, though Vox didn’t push, letting it instead extend between you, the length dripping with saliva. He kept one hand in your hair, the other on your back, and you found yourself crawling into his lap, sitting astride his thighs as you kissed. Your whole body was unfamiliar, but arousal took the edge off, a pulse that ran through your core and-

“Oh-” you breathed, breaking the kiss, becoming aware of the unfamiliar sensation in your own pants. An aching tightness and a pulsing slickness.

Vox withdrew his tongue, his expression one of concern. His gaze followed yours down to your pants, and a triumphant look returned. “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”

“I- I think I have more parts than I used to.” You swallowed, the static in your voice crackling. “Is that normal? Does everyone-”

“Show me.” Vox’s response was instant, and when you hesitated, his hand went to your waist, encouraging. A little shimmying later and you were on your back, naked from the waist down, cock engorged, cunt dripping.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck me. Fucking hell.” Vox’s screen glitched slightly as he knelt between your knees, his stare frank and hungry. “That is. Oh, man.”

You closed your eyes, feeling yourself heat under his gaze, tears threatening to well in your eyes again. “Does it… it’s not weird?”

“You are perfect,” said Vox, with the absolute conviction of a man about to ruin his own pants. He crawled up over your body, pushing your unbuttoned shirt open, his touches on your skin almost reverent, the static field from his screen making the fine hairs on your chest stand on end. He kissed you again, giving a groan of satisfaction as his clothed erection pressed against yours. But being exposed like this, even under worshipful eyes, was hard, and you felt the telltale ache in your throat, your face wet with tears as Vox pulled back a little.

He didn’t scold you but hushed you, hand gentle on your damp cheek. “It’s okay, I’m gonna take such good care of you, you’ve got no idea. So you just relax and leave it to me.”

Slowly, you nodded, looking up at him. Crying hadn’t been your plan, but it seemed to be helping.

“Fuck, man, those eyes.” Vox made a noise, continuing under his breath as he undid his belt. “I didn’t know those eyes could look so trusting, fuck me. You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

The tip of his cock was the same luminescent blue as his tongue, the shaft darker. He held your knees under his arms and pushed into you, his stare for you as greedy as it had been from the moment he first saw you, and as good as his word he was gentle with your body, the strokes sweet and slow. You knew intellectually that his gaze was for some guy who happened to look like you, but even so, it was hard not to get caught up in the moment, not with the attention he paid to you, optimizing the slow roll of his hips to hit the good spots inside you as his fist closed over your cock, pumping in time.

A soft mewl escaped you, the first sound you had made without the static filter, and Vox grinned. “See? I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I?”

“Y-yes,” you managed. The way he was fucking you made it difficult to form a coherent sentence.

“Say my name. Say Yes, Vox.”

“Y-ye-” you gave a whimper mid word as he hit the good spot inside you again, palm tightening around your shaft. You swallowed, and tried again. “Yes, Vox- ah!” You felt a twitch from his cock as you said his name, a line of broken pixels down his screen.

“Oh, fuck me, that’s the good stuff.” Vox made a staccato groan, fingers briefly tighter around your shaft. “Tell me you’re sorry, and you should have joined my team.”

“I’m s-s-” Sorry vanished into white noise as Vox set a harsher pace for the two of you, the roll of his hips becoming a snap, making your breath catch as your pleasure built. “I’m sorry Vox, it was a mistake, I should have joined you-”

“You’ve joined me now though, haven’t you? Gonna cum on my cock,” said Vox, with the absolute conviction of a man who could already feel the twitch of your cunt around him.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling sensation crest. You hadn’t expected to cum, not in this unfamiliar body with this unfamiliar man, but the combination of his intensity and the dexterity with which he fucked you proved your undoing, sensation pulled tight through the core of you.

Vox’s expression was an indulgent leer. “That’s right, baby, let go,” he said, and you could only give soft animal and radio interference noises in response as he tipped you over your edge. Your orgasm was a hot white second of nothing but bliss that left your new body trembling and twitching. You came over your own stomach and chest, Vox giving a groan of his own when he saw it. “Fuck me that’s a fucking work of art.”

With you spent he worked on his own end, both hands on your hips, fucking a brisk rhythm into you that had you whimpering through your aftershocks.

“Alastor,” Vox groaned as he came, his eyes glazed as he looked down at you. His spasm into you was another new sensation, a staticky sort of frisson run through you, a shiver through your core and up your spine as his cock pulsed inside you.

You stayed in that position for a few moments, both of you still and panting, Vox not yet soft inside you, still holding your legs under his arms. Tentatively, your reached out and touched his forearm, and this stirred him out of his fugue. “Shit,” he said, blinking. “Right, uh, don’t move.” Gingerly, he withdrew from you, your cunt giving one last echo of a spasm in protest, and you watched him from the bed as he retreated into the bathroom, returning with a damp towel and tissues. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.

Vox lay alongside you, wiping your cum from your chest with an attentiveness that was equal to any he had shown while fucking you. His strange, rectangular head was warm when the sides brushed against your skin, and you found yourself scooting a little closer to his body. You caught a glimpse of a pleased expression on his face before he pushed a finger under your chin and you tilted your head back so that he could clean the last of the cum from your collarbones and neck. True to his word, he was taking good care of you. Maybe you wouldn’t have to murder him in his sleep after all.

“So, who is Alastor, anyway?” you asked. Vox froze, but you pushed a little further. “I mean, if I’m pretending to be him, it’s better if I know, right?”

“Oh, man.” Vox gave a deep sigh. “Fuck, where do I even start?”

You nestled closer to him, tucking your head against his shoulder, and after a little awkward adjustment, he settled with his arms around you. He radiated heat, and you felt yourself relaxing at the physical contact, your heart rate and your breathing slowing. Tilting your head back, you brushed your nose against the outer frame of Vox’s head, and he gave a soft sigh of contentment. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said, playing the ingénue.

“No, no, you’re right.” Vox tilted his head, his strange lips brushing against the tips of your ears and making you shiver. “It’s a long story, but I guess you should know.”

[hearts-4-vicky]

a lil birdie told me you wanted some le ssera asks😈m

HEAR ME OUT. mean!dom!chae absolutely bitching you. you would come home from a night out with your friends, but chae was so pissed because kkura was flirting with you so she would just pounce on you once she shut the door! ripping off your clothes so she can get a taste of your sweet fat cunt, she has you cumming all on her tongue and then she starts rubbing her soaked cunt against yours. choking you while she grinds her cunt against yours, saying, “would kkura unnie like you like this? you whore, i bet you want her riding your pretty face or sucking on your tits while i fuck you dumb.” overstimming you until you both are cumming on eachothers cunts! she doesn’t even give you a break because she’s now riding your pretty face, purposely squeezing her thighs around your head and until she’s squirting all over your face and in your mouth :3

IN FOR IT ✦

Kim Chaewon x fem reader (plus a special guest)

warnings: mean! dom! chae, bratty! sub!reader (later), brat tamer chae, reader likes older women, degradation, mommy kink, overstimulation, marking, manhandling squirting, tribbing, oral, edging, pussy slapping, regular slapping, face sitting, ppl thirst over reader, secret relationship, they dont know how to hi communicate, a bit toxic… yeah, um idk i think rhats it?

wc: 2.2k (not proofread)

anon we could make out if you want i mean… im not against it or anything… but i had to reqrite this bullshit like three tiems im so fucking done ☹️ (a/n at the bottom as always 💪) oh and thank u @ningvory for deciding the pics for chaewonnn🫶🏼🫶🏼

“ugh- fuck! chae.. t-too tight-!”

“okay, shut the fuck up weirdo.. god making this sound so sexual..” chaewon was currently helping you lace up the back of your dress, getting ready for your first meeting with her members.

“there, oh holy shit.” finally getting the bow right, she stands back to admire her work.

“hm? whats up? do i look bad or something..” you do a spin in front of the mirror, stopping after seeing your tits. “DAMN I LOOK GOODDDDD”

“huh- yeah, yeah whatever..” chaewon pushes her hair back before covering her mouth, barely muffling a groan.

“oh? whats wrong baby… don’t you think i look pretty? or maybe.. you’re too busy staring at these..?” you grope your tits, a sultry look in your eye. her eyes never leaving the sight of your breasts nearly spilling out of the red lacy fabric, “tell me mommy, which part of me interests you the most?” you pull her closer by her tie, letting her pin you against the mirror. “fuck… your- your eyes..” shes practically whimpering at this point, cant even hold eye contact with you. the light in her eyes shift, starting to droop at your intoxicating scent “mm.. and what color are my eyes baby?” your hand brings her face closer, letting her come up with a coherent answer “red.” she says with confidence, before pulling you impossibly closer by your exposed hips and letting your lips meet. its a messy kiss, shes sucking on your bottom lip, tasting your lipgloss then going back to exploring your mouth. teeth clash as chaewons so desperate for you, all of you. she wants.. no, she needs every part of you, and she needs it now. pulling away from your plump lips, she starts leaving open mouthed kisses trailing down your jaw, remnants of lipgloss stain your skin. breaking out of the trance, you try pushing her away, “ h-hold on.. ! your m-members are waiti-“ “don care pretty girl, need you now..” you gulp as chaewon starts untying the bow she spent oh so long to perfect..

“CHAEWON ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!? ugh… we’re half an hour late- huh.. slow down!”

you’re rushing to fix your makeup, and to hide the marks she recklessly left. “well maybe if you didn-“ chaewon feels something poking her neck, “dont.. dont you fucking dare finish that sentence Kim Chaewon.” she nods quickly to not anger you more. fixing your messy hair as chaewon kept honking the cars horn “fucking bitch… WE’RE ON THE DAMN FREE WAY!” her anger issues always made you giggle, but the way her jaw clenched had you folding. you hear her phone ring, she signals you to answer it. unlocking her phone, you see a text from jen “hrry up unnieee manchae alr went to her parents place >:( “ you look over to her, awaiting her response “ugh.. just ignore her.”

as soon as the car gets in a parking space, chaewons rushing out her door, opening yours and carrying you bridal style to the rest of the girls. “finally! unnie, we’ve bee- woah.” yunjin starts to scold the leader before her eyes land on you. kazuha and sakura observe your features quietly. chaewon places you on your feet, panting from the running. “s-sorry.. fuck- we got.. lost?” the girls weren’t even listening to what she was babbling about. “H-hello.. im gay! wait fuck- im kazuha.. its nice to meet you, uh?” her face flushed as she shakily sticks out her hand to you “ im yn.. wow you’re so pretty.. and those muscles, are you single? ” you jokingly say, grabbing her hand with both of yours, the poor girl stops functioning as shes pushed to the side by yunjin. “ hi tits! um- yn! yeah- oh shit im sorry… wait no- im yunjin and thats sakura over there ” you giggle at her slip up before leaning closer and pulling her down to your level, “ first meeting and you’re obsessed with my boobs already.. ”

“ im so hard right now ”

“ what was that ? “

“ what? “

you move onto the last girl, sakura. holy shit shes gorgeous.

“hi ynnie, you look nice in red” she says with a sweet smile, making you swoon. “thank you unnie.. that suit would make anyone fold!”

the way you interacted with her members made chaewons breath hitch.. you’re hers… why are you whoring yourself out to her best friends? she noticed how sakuras eyes twinkled the moment they met with the sight of your figure.. it replayed in her mind every minute.. her ears perk up at zuhas question ,, so what are you to unnie, yn?”

“oh! sorry, im chae’s-“ she swiftly cuts you off “she’s a friend! a close friend of mine yeah..” the fuck? you want to protest, but stop as sakura responds, “that so? then you don’t mind if shes my date for the night, right?” she places a hand on your waist, pulling you close enough you could smell her perfume, and fuck, its intoxicating. you’re all caught off guard by her boldness “oooou im wet..” you mutter, praying to god she doesn’t hear you. “is that okay with you sweetheart?” she whispers to you, a sincere look in her eye, god she’s breathtaking… you slowly nod much to chaewon’s dismay, even if it was her fault this is happening, maybe if she wasnt ashamed of the relationship you guys have sakura wouldn’t be guiding you away to the restaurants doors. with clenched fists, she follows you and the rest of the girls, not before muttering curses to herself. chaewon hates the way you let sakura hold your hips, how close you’re sitting next to her, practically grinding against the older girls thighs in her eyes (you were a reasonable distance away from her)

she wanted to sit next to you but yunjin basically sprinted to the empty seat, pulling out your chair like the gentlewoman she is. chaewon hated how the girls smile shines at the simple words you spoke to her.

the room was filled with loud laughter and compliments being thrown toward your direction every 10 seconds. chaewons grip on her fork nearly made it break into millions of pieces, she was so focused on not dragging you out to the car that she didnt even look up at you, making you feel like shit “ ynnie !! are you alright ? you’re shaking really bad.. do you need anything?” not even getting a word out of your mouth before feeling a warmth embrace you, realizing it was kura’s jacket wrapped around you. “here.. though-“ and suddenly you’re up out of your seat and being led to the exit. “chaewon-“ “shut it.”

your bedroom door slams into the wall, nearly breaking it but chaewon could care less.. “so that’s it? you whore yourself out to my fucking friends? stupid fuckin bitch..” the rest is a mess of curses and degrading names towards you, she throws you on the bed, pinning you to it. she rips that stupid dress off “this wouldn’t have happened if you just introduced me as your damn girlfriend!” you feel her fingers trail up to your panties, “but no! you ju-“ she shoves the garment in your mouth, successfully cutting you off. “you were basically grinding on kkura unnie’s thighs.. you wish you were dating her instead huh?” chaewons hungrily kissing your neck, before trailing down to your pretty tits “maybe if you look like a dirty slut she won’t bat an eye at you” her hot tongue swirls around your perky nipples, hands gripping tightly at your thighs, leaving deep marks. you let out muffled gasps as you squirm underneath the older girl, feeling yourself get wetter by the second. youre clenching around nothing and searching for some sort of relief!! slowly grinding on chaewons exposed thigh, before she slaps your cunt.

she says no words, still nibbling at your sensitive skin, just glaring at you before returning her attention back to the task at hand. you throw your head back, whining into the panties as you plead for chaewon to touch you . she takes notice of how you hump the air so desperately, making her laugh in your face. “pfft- stupid slut.. only thinking about what she wants, huh?” the names she calls you make you scream, this is not something you thought you were into! “i wanna hear the slut bitch and moan, you got that? you’re nothing but my little sex doll i can throw around. ill use you til im satisfied..” she pulls the panties out of your mouth, throwing it in a random corner of the dark room. chaewon’s between your legs now, blowing air onto your needy cunt. “are you this wet because of me, or kkura unnie?” you shake your head in denial, “cmon… use your big girl words..” “n-no! chae- ah!” a quick slap at your folds catch you off guard,

“wrong name bitch.”

you whimper as she starts rubbing your clit “f-fuck! ‘m sorry m-mommy! haa—“ she slowly licks up from your entrance to the clit, making your eyes roll to the back to of your head! she slips her tongue inside, teasing you as she halts all movement. “mmha… mommy… more.. p-please!” she moves her tongue side to side for a bit before completely pulling away. “did you really think id let you get close to cumming you slut? mommy thought you were smarter than that… damn, kkura unnie wouldn’t like a disobedient girl like you..” shes smirking in your face, straddling you and putting one of your legs on her shoulder. slowly, she grinds her puffy pussy onto yours, earning whines and squeals from you. “ghaa! mm- fuck.. m-mommy!!” you drench both of your bottom halves in your squirt, letting out choked moans of her name followed by curses. “cumming so mmgh.. soon? needy bitch, shit!- we’re not even starting yet!” she rubs her cunt against yours faster now, pressing down harder to get her closer. feeling your clits hit each other makes you cry out, bringing you to your second release of the night. chae ups her pace, using your overwhelmed cunt to her hearts content. “mommy! s’too much!! s-stop!-“ your right cheek flashes a new red color, “you’ll take it like a good girl, does mommy have to train your stupid ass again?” she grumbles, focused on squirting all over your sweaty body, maybe then kkura won’t want you. “argh!- fuck!” finally satisfied with her work, she coats you in her scent! shes riding out her orgasm on your overspent, puffy little cunt. you’re busy babbling about something she could care less about, then she gets an idea.

“hey whore, open wide! if you make me cum ill call someone over~”

she gives you milliseconds to react before shoving her glistening pussy on your face. muffled moans vibrate through her core, making her clench her plush thighs around your head. your minds fuzzy, but a pretty girl is using you for her own pleasure ! score in your book! shes cutting off your circulation with how her thighs practically embrace your head in a soft prison but you’re glad you’re a prisoner. “fuck.. making mommy do all the work now? alright then.” she hastily grinds her fat cunt on your open mouth, feeling your nose hit her clit with each motion. chaewons screaming at this point, ‘fuck the neighbors!’ is what she lives by. “ugh!! shit- mmghaa! take it all! drink mommy’s cum!” she squeals before cumming hard on your face, you barely manage to take all of her slick. chaewon slows down her grinding until she halts all movement, finally letting you have some air.

“ugh- fuck.. did you really call over your homegirls?” you groan, feeling like you just got ran over fifty times.

“yeah, just one though. and shes your favoriteee” she says playful before making you look at the now open door

“hi baby.. hope chaewonnie wasn’t too harsh on you..”

“oh suck my fat-“ kkura throws her jacket at her face, shutting the girl up,

“shhh shhut the fuck up.. anyway, got more for me sweet girl? cmon baby, let mommy hear your pretty voice..”

hi my lovessss i missed you guys :(((( how r you ? wahhh this is my longest post yet😭 im sorry if my last posts felt.. bland? ive been struggling with ideas for these reqs lately, i feel like ive written the same thing just with different idols.. but i really enjoyed writing this one <3 !! ill be more active this week since i really do owe it to you guys

Stay safe and I love you lots !!

- Vicky 💋

[astrologuzzy]

✿ MORE ASTRO OBSERVASHUNS ✿

I’m back to spill more astrology observations, lessgetit!!! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

Also, quick reminder that these are just MY observations and opinions I’ve gathered, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! mwahhh 😽💋

☆ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 seem to really like physical displays of affection very much. Every Gemini I knew always loved giving hugs specifically lol. They may enjoy physical touch as a love language.

★ I often notice how 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 aren’t scared to give their opinions no matter how controversial they may be. They don’t care if people agree, if they truly believe in it then they will share it and whoever disagrees can kiss their own ass. Which can seem intimidating to many especially with how much intensity and passion Scorpio brings to the table.

☆ I find it so easy to spot someone with 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. You guys give a very mellow and grounded energy that is very specific to Earth signs. Y’all have that signature down to earth presence or a very firm/calm tone of voice that I recognize instantly even thru text lol.

★ Everyone wants to call Leos the most “cocky” sign but have y’all seen 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈? They’re the real culprit here lol. These guys are number one fans of themselves (do I even need to make examples lol) and I respect it tbh.

☆ Speaking of 𝐋𝐄𝐎, they love to just disappear for like days or weeks straight out of absolutely nowhere and then come back like nothing happened and resume from where they left off. Like sir, are you not gonna explain why you just ghosted everybody? Lol like are you gonna explain where you was? (double points if that Leo has Sagittarius or Aquarius influences in chart cos they’re even more prone to going mia).

★ When people have 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 in their big 6 or heavy Mars influence in the chart I notice that they tend to sound/come across way ruder than they’re actually being lol. They can be very dominant and intimidating in conversations. You’d think they’re angry or being mean but they’re just asking you to pass them the water bottle lmao. Often I think they don’t even realize that themselves since they’re just built that way.

☆ People with 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 & 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 in their big 3 together kinda scare me lol (in a good way). They usually are very into occult stuff and/or are strongly religious and showcase it very openly and firmly. Sometimes they just have a very intimidating aura/demeanor to them. I notice how they frequently tend to be very into dark colors and themes/styles too. They don’t f*ck around at all. Love y’all 💚

★ People with a 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐔𝐍 usually have their Moon sign qualities be more noticeable. With Geminis I tend to catch onto their Moon sign behavior before I realize that they’re a Gemini. Could be a mutable thing where they’re versatile enough that their Moon qualities shine more than their sun sign qualities. Very frequently when I try to guess a Gemini’s sun sign I actually guess their Moon sign. They tend to act like their Moon more than other zodiac signs in my experience. They may not even notice it either.

☆ I hope I don’t offend anyone for this one but people with a 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 (frequently more moon) mother tend to have veryyyy chaotic childhood stories about her. Somehow these moms tend to often be pretty emotionally unhinged people (no offense but in my experience so many of my friends have a mom with a Pisces sun and/or Pisces moon and they all always tell me how their moms have crazy mood swings or a very erratic behavior). I’m honestly so sorry for anyone who had, or still has to deal with such an environment. 🫂💚

★ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 & 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 are the best opposite sign duo in astrology imo. I’ve never seen many Geminis or Sags that say they dislike or don’t get that along with one another. We really click well and even I personally can testify that lol. These two always besties.

☆ Also 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 loooove anything to do with 2D characters or just fictional stuff in general. They love their ffs, romance books, making fan arts or edits. Every Pisces I knew had some kind of obsession with multiple fictional characters or shows and each one of them had accounts dedicated to making art or edits about said characters/shows lol. No matter if it’s a manga, an anime, a video game, a song, a movie or a cartoon, a Pisces placement will most probably romanticize a character or wtv it is they feel resonates with them in some way. I know lotta people do that but Pisces are usually more prone to be very frequent and indulgent with it in my experience. Not judging anyone, just pointing it out lol.

That’s all for todayyy ☀︎

Also please don’t copy or claim my content without credit or consent ♡

[corroded-hellfire]

Pixie Dust and Dates - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Trying to get over your crush on your boss Eddie, you’re going on a date after you finish babysitting tonight. So, why do things seem to get tense between the two of you when he finds out?

Note: Needed a little jealous Eddie in my life. This takes place before part one so I guess it’s a bit of prequel. I hope you enjoy! 🩵

Warnings: older!eddie, babysitter!reader

Words: 2.8k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Luke, are you not going to let me leave?”

The little boy hangs onto your waist, his little feet on each of yours. A devious giggle leaves his lips as he buries his face into your stomach. 

“Never!” the little boy cries. “You’re my prisoner!”

“Oh no!” you feign gasp. “Whatever shall I do?”

Ryan jumps up on the couch and does his best superhero pose with his hands on his hips. “I’ll save you!”

“No, she’s stuck with me forever!” Luke says, tightening his hold on you. It’s sweet, but he’s also getting pretty heavy on your feet. 

“She’s got school, ya know,” Ryan says as he jumps down from the couch. 

“She can come to school with me,” Luke reasons.

Ryan rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Can you believe this guy? you can practically hear him say.

“She’s in college, Luke. She could teach your kindergarten class.”

“All right, you two, that’s enough squabbling.”

“But do you have school?” Luke asks, looking up at you. 

“It’s Friday,” you say, poking the tip of his nose with your pinky. “It’s just like you, I don’t have to go until Monday. But I do have plans for tonight and tomorrow. So you can’t hold me prisoner forever!”

“Whatcha doin’ tonight?” Luke asks, grip loosening on you only slightly. 

“Well,” you say as you feel your face getting warm. There’s no harm in telling them the truth, right? It’s nothing bad and you don’t want to lie to them. So, why is there a sinking feeling in your stomach about the Munson’s knowing you’re going on a date? Just because you’re head over heels for your boss doesn’t mean you’re cheating on him by going on a date. But that’s what it feels like for some reason. All of your emotions are so consumed by one man who is married and has beautiful children and now it’s so bad you feel guilty over going on a date with a guy from your history class. The boys are still looking at you expectantly as your mind wanders off. “Oh, um, I’ve got a date.”

“A date?” Ryan asks with the most adorable grin. 

“Yes, a date,” you reply, face getting hotter by the second. 

“Oooooh!” Luke coos, smirking up at you and looking identical to his father. His wonderful, beautiful father. “Where ya going?”

“Dinner and a movie.”

“What’s his name?” Ryan asks.

“Peter.”

Luke gasps and gives your aching feet some relief as he jumps off of you. “Like Peter Pan?”

“Or Peter Parker,” you say.

“Who?” Luke asks, scrunching up his nose. 

“Spider-Man!” Ryan informs his little brother.

Luke shrugs, not caring about the web-slinging superhero. “Peter Pan is better.” 

Ryan gasps and begins to excitedly jump up and down in front of you. “Ooh! Ooh! Can we play Peter Pan?”

“How do we play that?” you ask.

“I mean like, play pretend,” Ryan explains. “I can be John, Luke is Michael, and you’re Wendy!”

“Who’s Peter then?” Luke asks with a huff, obviously wanting to be the main character.

“Daddy,” Ryan says, turning to him. “When he gets home and comes in the door it’ll be like when Peter comes in the window!”

Luke crosses his arms over his tiny chest, not sold on the idea. “Who’s Mom? Tinker Bell? They got the same hair color.”

“Mom is Captain Hook.” Ryan answers so quickly and with such conviction that it’s a struggle for you to hold in a bark of laughter. The kid is right, their mom is definitely the one most suited to play a villain. “She’s Hook because when she comes home, she’ll make us stop playing the game. The bad guy!” The words break your heart. You’re not sure which is worse: the fact that the words are true or the fact that Ryan has learned how cold and uncaring his mother is at such a young age. 

The younger Munson brother looks more convinced of the game now, his arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders relaxing. 

“Where’s Tinker Bell? And Nana?” Luke asks, apparently looking for plot holes in his big brother’s imaginary scenario.

“Well,” you say, “Tinker Bell is a pixie. So she’s so tiny that it’s hard to see her. She could be anywhere!”

Mollified by that answer, Luke nods his head. “And Nana?”

“Nana didn’t go to Wonderland,” you say.

“Neverland!” Ryan corrects, his face full of offense at the fact that you would mix those two up. 

“Right, right, Neverland, sorry. Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning!” 

Ryan looks around the room and gasps, pointing to a spot about three feet above your head. “There’s Tinker Bell! We need some pixie dust so we can fly!”

You stand on your tippy toes, game to play along, and reach your arm up as far as it can go. Concentrating, as if you’re almost reaching something, you close your fist over the empty air and stand back down on flat feet.

“I got her!” you say. “Come here and I’ll sprinkle the dust on you!”

Luke hops over and stands underneath your cupped hands. You pretend to sprinkle some pixie magic on him before doing the same to Ryan. The older boy holds his arms out to the sides like an airplane and runs around to the other side of the couch.

“We can fly!” he shouts. “Come on, Michael, Wendy!”

“We’re coming,” you tell him, ushering Luke to go in front of you. The three of you run around the house with your arms out, pretending to be soaring through the sky on your way to the mystical home of Peter Pan. 

Ryan stops for a moment and purses his lips. He looks deep in thought before he bolts down the hallway and into his room. There’s a handful of action figures in his arms when he re-emerges. It’s an assorted bunch containing The Hulk, a Ghostbuster, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and a GI Joe. You’re even more curious as to what he’s doing when he walks into the bathroom with them.

“Uh, Ryan?” you ask, heading down the hall towards him.

“It’s John,” he reminds you. 

“Right, John. What are you doing, John?”

Ryan sets his action fingers up so they’re sitting on the rim of the bathtub.

“It’s Mermaid Lagoon!” he announces proudly. 

“They’re boys,” Luke says.

“Mermen are a thing,” you say, ruffling his curls. 

“Okay, where’s Skull Rock?” Luke asks. Ryan thinks for a moment before darting out of the bathroom and down the hall again. Luke chases after him but you take your time with a leisurely walk. 

“It’s here! But it shrunk!” Ryan pretends to be baffled as he picks up a chunky silver skull ring of Eddie’s. It was sitting in a bowl that was on the table near the front door. Your only guess is that on days where his hands weren’t covered in dirt and grime, he had the rings in the perfect position to slip them on when he walked through the door. 

“Maybe Tinker Bell shrunk it with her magic! Revenge for when Hook tried to kill Peter!” Luke adds. 

If your logic is right—which you know it isn’t in this case of make believe—Ryan and Luke are talking in terms of the events of the Peter Pan movie already happening. Which means Hook would’ve been eaten (or maybe just chased) by the crocodile. The mental image of a cartoon crocodile chasing Brittany down the street is enough to make you giggle out loud. 

“Wha’s so funny?” Luke asks, turning to you. 

“Hmm?” you ask as you shake the fantasy from your head. “Oh. Just, um… Well, look!” you point up at the ceiling and drag your finger around as if you’re following something that’s moving. “It’s Peter’s shadow! It looks like he lost it again!”

“We have to get it for him!” Luke says.

“How do we do that?” Ryan asks, putting the ring back in the bowl. 

“I think only Peter can catch it,” you say with a sigh. 

“But you can sew it back on him again, right Wendy?” Ryan slash John asks. 

“I will certainly do my best,” you tell him. 

The front door opens and Luke races over. Eddie is prepared for the ambush and hoists his youngest son up over his shoulder. 

“Hey, munchkin,” Eddie says.

“Hi, Peter.”

A confused frown grows on Eddie’s face, and he maneuvers the little boy so he’s holding him out in front of him and can look him in the eye. Luke giggles as he dangles from his father’s grip.

“Whatcha call me?” Eddie asks.

“Peter! You’re Peter Pan!”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and looks over at you. “Is this some joke about me never growing up?”

You giggle and shake your head. “No, we’re playing pretend. You were unanimously elected to be Peter.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie muses and settles Luke on his hip, even though he really is too old to be held like that. “So, who are you, little dude? The dog?”

Luke huffs and rolls his eyes overdramatically. The apple clearly did not fall far from the tree. “I’m Michael.”

“And we’re John and Wendy!” Ryan tells him, proudly taking your hand in his. 

“Well, why aren’t you flying then?” Eddie asks. Before either boy can ask him what he means, he lifts Luke over his head as the five-year-old giggles and holds his hands out in front of him. Eddie brings him over to the couch where he plops the boy down on the couch. Luke instantly scrambles up and tries to jump on his dad’s back. Eddie lets him and holds his son’s small legs as he wraps them around his waist. 

“How ya doing, Wendy?” Eddie asks as he walks past you into the kitchen. “These lost boys aren’t driving you too crazy, huh?”

“Never,” you say, trying desperately not to ogle your boss. You clear your throat and rest your hands on Ryan’s shoulders, jostling him gently. “They make my days fun. How was work?”

“Eh, loud and greasy,” Eddie replies, pulling a beer out of the fridge. “Glad to be home.”

The smile he gives you has your knees feeling weak. Mentally, you berate yourself. This is exactly why you’re going on a date tonight. Peter is a nice enough guy but doesn’t really do anything for you. But when he asked if you’d like to get dinner as the two of you were leaving your shared history class, you agreed. The way you feel about Eddie quickly evolved from just thinking he was attractive as soon as you got to know him. His kindness, humor, gentleness, and wit quickly had you falling down the slippery slope of feelings. Hopefully, Peter could catch you with his own charm before you fell even further down the rabbit hole for Eddie. 

“You gotta catch your shadow!” Luke’s words break you out of your small daze. The little boy is bouncing in his dad’s grip, gesturing towards the tall shadow on the kitchen floor. “Wendy has to sew it back on for you! Then you kiss!”

Both you and Eddie blanch at the five-year-old’s statement. 

“Huh?” Eddie manages.

“After Wendy sews Peter’s shadow back on, she tries to kiss him!” Luke clarifies.

Dear God, I wish, you think. 

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head, avoiding your eyes. He opens his mouth and you’re almost afraid of what he’s going to say. Luke beats him to the punch though, annoyed that the game has stalled.

“Daddy! Shadow!”

“Hurry, before she has to go!” Ryan adds. 

“Yeah! She’ll be late! Late, for a very important date!” Luke laughs against his dad’s neck, finding it hilarious that he was able to quote another Disney movie.

“Date?” Eddie lets the refrigerator door slip from his grip, and it slowly slides closed. You think you’re imagining his hand tightening around his beer bottle but can’t help but hope that your boss doesn’t like the idea of you going out with someone.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, suddenly feeling nervous. That is ridiculous, you tell yourself. Eddie has never made you feel nervous–okay, that’s a lie. But a good, giddy kind of nervous.

“A boy from school?” Eddie asks, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a sip. 

“Yep. From my history class.” 

“He’s taking her to dinner and a movie,” Luke informs his father. Eddie’s head turns over his shoulder to look at his son, as if he’d just remembered he was there. 

“Oh. T-That’s nice.” Eddie’s words have an edge to them, despite how casual he tries to make them sound. Luke releases his grip from his dad’s neck as Eddie crouches down to let the little boy down. He scampers out of the room, officially bored now, and Ryan looks between you and Eddie once before following behind his little brother. 

“You, um,” Eddie says as he leans against the counter behind him, setting the bottle down. “You have to get going now? Get ready?”

Truthfully, you do. But leaving Eddie is always easier said than done. 

“I guess I should,” you say with a shrug. As you move to leave the kitchen, Eddie steps forward and extends his arm as if he’s going to grab your arm but thinks better of it. Awkwardly, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his coveralls and clears his throat when you turn back to him.

“If, uh, you need anything…like, if he’s an asshole and you want to bail or um, anything else,” Eddie says, looking at you from underneath his impossibly long eyelashes, “just give me a call. I’ll come get you. Whenever and wherever.”

The offer has your heart swimming in your chest. Even if he doesn’t have feelings for you, Eddie definitely does care. Being so kind and thoughtful are two of the reasons you were already so crazy about the man, so this offer is doing nothing to dampen your feelings. It’s so touching though, that it gives you goosebumps. 

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a small smile. “I really appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Eddie says before he clears his throat again. “As long as you’re safe.”

Unable to come up with anything else to say, you nod your head. A goodbye with Eddie has never felt this way before. Uncomfortable, yet you don’t want to escape it. How could you ever want to escape Eddie? You blame your own awkwardness and mentally scold yourself for projecting how you want Eddie to feel onto him. 

“I’ll, uh, see you on Monday?” you finally ask.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Eddie’s smile doesn’t meet his eyes, but neither does yours as you turn to walk out of the kitchen.

“Your homework better be done,” Brittany says as she thunks down a bowl full of microwaved macaroni and cheese. Eddie moves around her in the kitchen, his jaw squared and tense as he pulls the pork chops from the oven. Brittany and both boys keep glancing at him every time he slams something around on the counter. 

“It is,” Ryan says of his homework as he takes his place at the dinner table. 

“Luke?” Brittany basically snaps.

“Did it when I got home,” Luke says, reaching for the cheesy side dish. “Before we played Peter Pan.”

“Who did–oh, the babysitter?”

Luke frowns, not liking his mother’s tone or how she doesn’t refer to you by your name. Neither does Eddie, judging by the way he practically tosses the pork chops onto a platter.

“Yeah,” Luke answers his mother. “We played Peter Pan and then she had to go ‘cause she had a date.”

Eddie yanks his chair out from the table, the legs squealing against the floor at the ferocity with which he pulled it, so he can take a seat. He doles out a piece of pork to everyone’s plate, his knuckles white from holding the fork so tightly. Brittany just arches a recently-shaped eyebrow at her husband before returning to the conversation. 

“A date, huh? Wow.” Her snark is clear, and Eddie has to bite his lip from barking out something he’ll regret.

“What’s wow?” Ryan asks as he jabs his fork into the mac and cheese on his plate.

“Oh, nothing,” Brittany says with a shake of her head. “Nothing at all.”

The table is quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from knives and forks working on the food. Ryan keeps sneaking peeks at his dad, wondering why he’s so unusually quiet. Normally, Eddie would be asking about their days at school and telling them about anything funny that happened at work today. His silence is making Ryan fidget in his seat. Brittany is the one to break the silence, though the three men silently wished she wasn’t.

“My sister is going to come over tomorrow. Eddie, did you hear me? Eddie?” Brittany glares daggers at her husband when he doesn’t answer, or even acknowledge her. But Eddie isn’t looking her way. Of course, this only irritates Brittany further.

“Eddie! Why in the hell are you staring at the phone like that?”

[leovenuslatina]

kiss and tell 💋

⋆♱✮♱⋆

what your future spouse says about you to their friends and families

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆

psa - tarot readings are not set in stone

take what resonates leave what doesn’t

you’re fully in control of YOUR own life

⋆♱✮♱⋆

take a deep cleansing breathe

pick a pile that calls to you

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile one - ace paper swords, five of pentacles, page of cups}

~

your person brags about you for sure!! they tell their friends and family how accomplished you are and how successful and beautiful you are!! they are the type to blush and smile so hard whenever you name comes up.they tell their friends and family how strong you are and how they feel like to two if you are meant to be. they may tell their family that you’ve been through a lot in you life and that you’ve gotten through some pretty rough things and how they really admire how incredible you are. they feel as though they have to praise you whatever chance they get not in a bad way but just because they want you to know that they feel so fortunate to be with you. they tell their parents about how they want to marry you and have kids with you all the milestone of their life they want you there!!

-

^extra messages^

_ playfullness

_ innocence

_ romance

_inner child

_chemistry

_ magnetic attraction

_self love/self care

_you deserve love

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile two - knight of wands, queen of swords , king of swords}

~

so much . literally don’t get them started when i was shuffling the card a bunch just bursted out at once 😭which tells me that they can’t stop talking about you like whether people ask about you or not. they are the type to see a color or a random object and just go off on a rant about how that reminds them of you or one of you favorite things. when your fs talks about you they say you’re a determined person you do whatever you set you mind on you have hella focus and discipline. you fs says you’re energetic and passionate. they will say you’re a charming person who knows what your worth is. your fs tells everyone how self confident you are and how sure of yourself you can be. pile 2 when your fs talks about you they glow ! they say how you’re a quick witted thinker you’re organized and perceptive. your fs always says that you’re clever and highly skilled mentally. overall pile 2 your fs can’t stop sharing about you to no matter who will listen.

~

^extra messages^

_ supportive

_ encouraging

_ truthful

_ logical

_self discipline

_lawful

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile three - 2 of swords, high priestess}

~

pile 3 what your future spouse will tell their friends and family is how much power you hold over them you’re a power house and you’re not even trying. you’re high maintenance and hard to please but they like that. they tell their friends and family about how hard to get you are and how hard you make them work for your attention and they love it!!! they say you’re magical and mystical and shit lmao like you say stuff that they were thinking and you can predicted things just before they happen. they are absolutely in awe of you fr!! they think you’re mysterious pile 3 everyday they learn something new about you and they fall more in love youre like a gift that just keeps on giving. pile 3 any time anyone asks your fs about you they just list off things they love about you like that you’re understanding and nurturing you’re kind and nonjudgmental.

~

^extra messages^

_intuition

_purples and blues

_insightful

_ manifesting a soulmate

_wisdom

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

{pile four - 4 of cups, the artist, 6 of cups}

~

what your FS says to their friends and family is you’re a a very creative person and you have so much passion about everything you bring into the world. you’re the type of person that’s constantly reinventing themselves. they tell their family that you live learning and exploring and that your mind is constantly growing and working and moving at a million miles an hour. they are very impressed with you. they also tell their families that you’re a generous person. you may make a lot of money or come from a home that is very wealthy but you don’t act as though you’re better than anyone and you help others in need. they say you’re a very helpful person and you’re always there whenever anyone needs a friend.

~

^extra messages^

+boredom

+interpreter

+learning

+prosperity

+favor

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。

[feyhunter78]

Jealously, Jealously

Couldn’t find a fanart I felt fit so have a gif!

Nerd!Miguel Masterlist

You’re not jealous, you can’t be jealous, because Miguel isn’t yours. You’re friends, study buddies, lab partners, platonic, platonic, platonic, so why do you feel so shitty watching him and this random girl—Ava she said her name was—flirting?

Maybe it’s because she’s flipping her long silky black hair over her shoulder, batting her thick naturally dark lashes up at him, laughing at his jokes with a laugh that sounds like music, and Miguel’s eating it up.

You’ve never seen Miguel so confident, and it hurts. You’ve been friends with him for ages now, and he’s never been so forward, so clearly sure of himself when he’s with you. He’s talking, leaning down to hear her better, letting her touch his arm, his chest, even his fucking neck.

You stew in silence, arms crossed, watching them from your place behind the Sig Epp letters.

You were supposed to be getting lunch, walking, and talking with Miguel, only stopping to say hello to Brett, but then this Ava girl showed up and all of a sudden, she and Miguel have to speak privately.

“What’s got you all heated?” Brett asks, bumping his shoulder into yours, joining you against the low wall, behind the giant painted letters.

They’re what four-five feet tall, painted in the Sig Epp colors, made of plywood and some other material you don’t really recognize, and don’t care to. They’re good to hide behind, and that’s what you’re doing.

“I’m not heated.” You tell him, rolling your eyes when Ava playfully squeezes Miguel’s bicep, her laugh ringing out through the courtyard.

“Tsst, ouch.” Brett says, jerking away from you dramatically, acting as if touching your shoulder burned him.

“You’re not funny.” You deadpan, averting your eyes from Miguel and onto Brett.

“I’m a little funny.” He says, “remember when I got Dr. Blevins to do that TikTok trend with me?”

“The one where you tried to guess which of the other professors in the department he hated?” You snort, turning to face him, leaning against the sun-bleached bricks.

It was pretty funny, Dr. Belvins wasn’t the nicest man on the planet, but who would’ve known he had such a hatred for Dr. Vervid? Though you shouldn’t be too surprised, there weren’t many people who liked the Organic Chemistry professor.

“See I’m funny.” Brett says, wriggling his eyebrows victoriously.

“You did one funny thing.”

He presses a hand to his heart. “You wound me y/n, truly, down to the deepest chasm of my very soul.”

“Alright, Shakespeare,” you laugh, “time to phone it in.”

Brett takes an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes but giggle. Brett is a goof, and while usually you find it all a bit ridiculous, it does the trick, the uncomfortable emotions you’re feeling lessen.

“No, but seriously, you seem upset, is everything alright?” Brett’s voice takes on a more serious tone, and he gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know we’re not close like you and Miguel, but I do consider you a friend, and if I can help, I’d like to.”

Are you crying? You think you might cry. “Shut up, why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m a nice guy, not like that, an actual nice guy, a nice person.”

You sigh and roll your neck, letting it hang to one side as you look at Brett. “I think I might be jealous?”

“Oh, of Miguel and Ava? Yeah, I see them hanging out sometimes, she’s hot.”

Gut punch.

“You’ve seen them hanging out?” You dig your nails into your palm to try and keep the emotion out of your voice. Thankfully it works.

“Sometimes, used to see them hanging out before you two got close, but it’s picked back up recently.” Brett says, casting a surprisingly subtle glance over at the dark-haired pair.

Double gut punch.

“Oh…cool.” You reach for your phone preparing to either hide in it or text Miguel and tell him you have to miss lunch, either way you’re pretty sure you’re going to start crying.

Brett snaps to attention and reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t even—I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Miguel and I are just friends, I don’t care who he hangs out with, it doesn’t matter to me.”

Totally doesn’t matter that he defended you against Kron, that he said he wanted to have a daughter with you. That you almost kissed, that he’s coming with you to the semiformal, that you eat lunch together every day during the week, totally doesn’t matter.

“Oh well...I don’t think they’re dating or anything, Miguel isn’t like that, he wouldn’t…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “He’s not the kind of guy to lead someone on.”

“I said we’re just friends. Bye Brett.” You snap, shoving your phone back in your pocket and readjusting your backpack as you speed walk in the opposite direction of Miguel. Hoping fervently that you can make it back to the Humanities Building, then to the parking lot, before he notices you’re gone.

Of course, you have no such luck, and you can hear Miguel calling out to you, then your phone lights up in your hand.

“Hey.” You say, keeping your voice calm.

“Y/N, where are you going, I thought we were getting lunch?” His voice is so sweet, so concerned, and you hate him for it.

“I forgot my next class was canceled, and I have a big essay coming up, I’m just going to go home and work on it.” You lie, digging your car keys out of your backpack.

“Oh…okay…” You can picture him, standing there all alone, looking down at his feet, clutching the strap of his backpack protectively, his voice thick with disappointment.

You hate yourself for feeling guilty, but then you remember he’s not alone, he has Ava.

“Just go eat lunch with Ava, you guys seemed pretty cozy, don’t let me interrupt.” You can’t stop the venom from dripping into your voice.

“Interrupt? Y/N, you wouldn’t be—no, I’m not—Ava is just—it’s not like that.” Clearly, the words are spilling past his lips faster than his brain can process them.

“I don’t care, go, have fun, do whatever you want.” It’s petty, and unreasonable, you know, but you’re hurt, and you want him to hurt too. You hang up and put your phone on do not disturb, slamming your car door shut and heading home as you burst into tears.

Directly connected parts are: Flowers On Your Doorstep and Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey

[josiesullysblog]

It’s You

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader

~Fluff, kissing, angst, touching, grinding

~Proofread?-no

~Summary- Sun boyfriend x moon girlfriend!!

***

Neteyam met you when you were both thirteen. You were by the water trying to catch a fish with your bare hands. You laughed as you played around, his eyes staring at you with curiosity.

Didn't you know that wasn't an efficient way to get a fish? He came closer, though your back was still towards him. He had his bow in hand and was trying to help you out. “Maybe I could help you out!” you turned quickly glaring at the boy. “I don’t need a boy's help,” you continued back at trying to get a fish, “oh.”

Neteyam stared at you more, “Well are you gonna leave?” you looked at him to which he shook his head, “I can't leave you out here by yourself!” you scoffed, “I can take care of myself just fine,” as you turned you tripped over yourself, but as you fell Neteyam quickly grabbed you.

You both looked at each other, not making a sound before you got out of his arms. “Did my brother send you?” you titled your head, “if he did, you don't have to stay.”

Neteyam smiled, “Nope! No one sent me I just wanna stay,” He didn't know why he wanted to stay with the girl, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. You crossed your arms looking at him, “Fine you can stay,” Neteyam smiled, “but you have to listen to everything I say!” You smiled big as you expected him to say no, “That's fine!”

“So what are you gonna do?” he said as he came up next to you, “well I wanted to go deeper into the forest!” you started walking quickly, “Wait up!” Neteyam tried matching your pace, “I wanna make a pretty bracelet, like the ones my mom always wears. But the beads are a little further out!”

You smiled thinking about the bracelet, “why not have your mom or dad get the beads?” you shook your head, “they can't, they are helping my sister.”

Neteyam nodded, “And the rest of my family are too busy helping her to notice me, so i’m going to get them myself,” you started playing with the flowers around you, “what's your name?” Neteyam asked as he watched you, “[Y/n], what's yours?”

“Neteyam,” you nodded, “cool,” you both kept walking till you finally stopped, “Right there do you see them?” you smiled big as Neteyam’s eyes sparkled at the colorful beads, “Since I was so gracious and let you tag along, you go get them!”

Neteyam shrugged, “That's okay with me,” you watched as he carefully stepped over rocks, as the beads you wanted were on high trees, and took a good climber to reach.

Although you were initially annoyed that the boy tagged along, you found him useful. You were by yourself most of the time, with your parent's attention on your younger sister. She was born, sick that's what you like to say. She was more prone to sickness, and that meant a lot of the time your parents were focused on making sure she was alright.

Your older brother, who seemed the only person to remember you, became like a mother and father to you. Though you saw him as overprotective, you knew he meant well.

“Be careful,” you said as the boy climbed higher, “when I get down you have to give me a gift for doing this!” you laughed at him, “Okay!”

As he kept going, you both were unaware that you were being watched. Neytiri and Jake were out for a quick walk when Neytiri noticed Neteyam in a tree.

“This boy is trying to kill me,” she said as she stomped closer, Jake right behind looking around to see if any of his other kids were there to see a girl. He immediately stopped Neytiri, “I think he’s trying to impress a girl,” a smile appeared on his cheeks.

Neytiri laughed, “Putting your life in danger is no way to impress someone,” she turned when she noticed Neteyam was down, he handed you the beads to which you smiled, “What's my gift,” you smiled, “What do you want?”

Neteyam thought, “I want to be friends!” Jake laughed watching the boy, “Okay that's fine with me!” you said before turning, “now you have to walk me home, that's how you treat your lady friends.”

Neteyam nodded, “I was gonna do it anyways,” as he led you back he couldn't help but smile. You were beautiful, his eyes couldn't leave you. He kept wondering where you’ve been his whole life.

“Is there something on me?” you laughed as you approached where your family slept. Neteyam shook his head, “No, there's nothing on you,” you then titled your head, “Then why are you staring so hard?”

You laughed harder as you realized the blush appeared on his cheeks. “You're cute, Teyem!” you noticed your brother coming and sighed, “I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Neteyam nodded, “Of course!” you smiled before turning around but facing the boy again and kissing his cheek, “bye Neteyam!” you ran towards your brother as the boy stood there smiling.

“Who was that?” Your brother, Alo, said as he watched the boy walk away, “my friend,” you said as you sat down and started getting the beads ready, “the chief’s son wants to be friends with you?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?” you loved your brother but sometimes he could be so annoying, “just watch out, guys don't wanna be friends with girls just cause,” you nodded, “okay.”

Neteyam couldn't wipe the smile off his face, the cutest girl kissed him on the cheek. He smiled on the way to his family, smiled as he help Kiri clean up, and smiled as he saw his parents come home. “Neteyam you seem happy,” Jake beamed as Neytiri rolled her eyes, “I had a good day, sir!”

Nothing could knock him off the tower he was on, “hm I see,” Neytiri said but before she could question more Tuk was in her arms taking her attention away.

The next day, Neteyam was forced to watch Tuk, though he didn't mind any other day, today he wanted to see you. “Do I have to?” he whined as he watched Tuk run around, “Yes, your mother and I have important business,” he sighed, “what do you have going that you so badly want to leave?” Neytiri asked the boy.

“Just wanted to hang out with a friend,” Neteyam said as Jake smiled, “what kind of friend?” Lo’ak ears perked up laughing as he saw his brother go red, “Neteyam has a girlfriend!” the boy laughed loud. Neteyam groaned, “Lo’ak shut up!”

With all the loudness, Kiri was the only one to notice your presence. “Hi,” the girl waves at you, “hello,” you said as you kept your hands behind your back, “is Neteyam free?” you said as you watch him argue with his brother.

“One minute,” she walked over to Neteyam yanking his tail, “you free?” Neteyam held his tail as he turned to yell but was hit with your face. You smiled as his eyes laid on you, “you free?” he faced his parents with begging eyes, “Twenty minutes.” Jake said as he watch the boy run towards you.

You both walked away as Neteyam grinned like an idiot. “Thanks again for helping me yesterday,” you told him as you stood in front of him, “I wanted to give you a gift,” you grabbed his arm before placing a bracelet on it. It had the same beads he gave you yesterday, and a sun gem right in the middle of it. “Like it?”

The boy smiled, “I love it! Thank you,” you nodded, “I made us matching ones,” you showed the one you had on your wrist, “I let you be the sun since you always have that smile on,” you said. “And I have a moon gem!” you beamed at the boy.

“These means were close right, like best friends?” you shrugged, “Sure,” Neteyam laughed, “Neteyam!” the boy turned and saw his mother, “I gotta go,” you hugged him, “See you later,” you walked away as Neteyam’s eyes stayed glued to you, you were perfect to him.

As the years went by, the closer you became to Neteyam. Wherever you were, he was close by, and the other way around. He was your best friend, he knew everything about you and you knew everything about him.

Your stomach moved every time he smiled, you nicknamed him, “Sun,” because his smile was so bright it made you happy. He was your everything and besides your brother, the only other person to notice you.

“Hey Mom,” you smiled as you noticed the bags under her eyes. Your sister has gotten worse over the years, “Nene, how are you feeling?” you smiled sadly, as the woman called for your sister, “It's [Y/n].”

She made a sad face, “Go check on her,” you nodded as you quickly went to, “Nene, how are you feeling?” you immediately grabbed a bowl of warm water and a towel. You smiled as you helped her up and started cleaning her, “worse,” the girl said.

“I’m only gonna get worse,” she gave a sad smile, “don't say that,” you said, “you’ll get better, you always do,” she shook her head, “not this time,” You knew she was getting worse, everyone knew. You just didn't want to come to terms with it.

“You can't leave, me and you still haven't adventured the forest, or picked berries that mom would never let us eat,” you rambled as you set the towel down, “you're going to get better and we’ll play together again,” tears fell from your eyes. “I need you, sissy.”

You didn't like talking about your family, it was a sore spot. Besides Mo’at, no one else knew how bad your sister actually was, well Neteyam did. You cried countless nights to him about her. How you wished you had more time with her.

That you feel bad for your parents and your brother, but Neteyam has always had this calmness to him that makes you feel better. “When you and Neteyam have children, you have to name your daughter after me,” your sister said softly.

You had gotten up to get her food, she had become so weak she can't even walk to have dinner with the clan. “What makes you think that we're gonna have kids?” she sighed, “he always picks you up in the morning, and you both have this lovesick face on all the time.”

You blushed as she spoke, “See, all I did was mention him, and you smile.” you nodded, “he is very cute.” as you both spoke your mother came, “Has she eaten?” you nodded, “have you cleaned her?” you nodded, “I’ve done everything, mom, you can rest.”

“No, I can't but thank you,” she kissed you on the head, “head out and go have fun,” you nodded as you decided to head to the pond. You thought about everything, you and Neteyam, your family. Neteyam was like your family, though your brother would say different.

He doesn't like Neteyam, you don't know why but he has something against the boy. “You could do better,” you groaned just thinking about it.

You were twenty now and could make your own choices. You’ve known Neteyam since you were thirteen and if Neteyam was, “Just trying to get in your pants,” he would've been done something.

You just believed your brother saw you more like a daughter than a sister. That's why he acts the way he does, but as your feelings for Neteyam grow the more you realize he gonna have to deal with just more than Neteyam stopping by.

“Hey,” you heard fast feet behind you, Neteyam smiled at you, “You were gonna leave without me?” he said dramatically, “I thought you had training,” you smiled big at him as he hugged you, “finished early,” his eyes looked into yours as he smiled.

“What,” you said smiling at the boy, “nothing your eyes are just pretty,” you giggled, “thanks,” you let go of the boy and started walking, “how’s your sister,” you sighed thinking about her, “not too good, but she spoke much more today!”

You tried staying positive, “what did she say?” you blushed thinking back to what she said, “she wants me to name my daughter after her,” you said causing the boy to laugh. Neteyam only ever saw himself with you, nobody could amount to your beauty.

To your laugh, your walk, the way you talk, or the way you move. The way his name comes out your mouth, the way your eyes sparkle when you see something or someone you love. Nobody could ever be you, and he knew if he ever mated with another, he’d be searching for you in them.

“Your daughter would have a beautiful name then,” you nodded, “yeah she said you’d be the father,” Neteyam couldn't help but beam. “Is that so,” you faked pushing him away, “She obviously knows you have great taste.”

You laughed, “That's enough,” you both approach the pond and you immediately picked up speed. Neteyam watch as you dipped your toes in, watched how your hips moved side to side. He most definitely was going to give you a child.

He wanted to provide for you, make you happy, and be an amazing father and dad. He wanted to be the best thing to happen to you if your brother would let him. Neteyam tried hard to make the boy like him. He was polite, he treated you right and brought you home every night. Neteyam didn't have a big ego, but what was there to not like about him?

He was the perfect person for you, so he thought maybe your brother was projecting. That's the only reason he could think of, “Gonna join me?” you cut his train of thought off, “of course.”

Though you both never said it, both of you knew you’d end up together. Even if your brother said no, or Neteyam was constantly focusing on his training. At the end of the day, you two were meant for each other.

You splashed water on him, “what's got you thinking so hard,” the boy smiled, “just the future,” you nodded, “scared?” the boy sighed, “Kinda, but I know I’ll be okay,” you stood in front of him, “I have you,” he said moving a braid out your face.

“Hm,” you got closer, “what if your parents find you a mate,” you always teased the fact Neteyam was meant to be the next clan leader at him. Cracking jokes about how his parents will find him, someone, if he doesn't.

“Guess all your Tsahik training would go to waste,” he said getting closer to you. “A shame,” you smiled, “a real shame,” Neteyam said before closing the gap. He grabbed you by the waist to bring you closer, you straddled his lap placing your hands on his chest.

His hand moved to your hair, as he broke the kiss. “Fucking perfect,” he said as he yanked your head backward, showing off your neck. As he kissed your neck, you moaned out loud. Smiling to yourself you started grinding down making the boy hard.

He brought himself back to your lips, “your beautiful,” he whispered. You smiled but that smile was taken when you felt Neteyam being ripped away from you. “What the fuck are you doing?” Your brother hissed at you both. “Fuck.” was the only thing going through your mind.

***

Hey guys!! I’m so excited for the summer, I’ll finally have a consistent posting schedule!!! I’ll be posting next weekend, till then!!

[hydrngea]

Rafe x reader

They grew up together and as kids Rafe got reader a necklace and she still wears it to this day but Rafe doesn’t notice until she’s all dressed up for midsummer

(This is really random but I thought it was cute lol)

Ur writing is amazing btw! 🫶🏻

perfect pick

a/n : thanks sm!!! i appreciate the compliment :)) i didn’t completely answer the prompt but i might do a part 2 in a couple of days :))

notes : rafe cameron x reader, au to some extent featuring rafes mom before she disappeared.

masterlist | PART TWO

————

rafe could care less about your tenth birthday. in fact, the only reason he even knew it was coming up was because it was all you and sarah could ever talk about lately; what the theme would be, what kind of cake would be the best to eat, who should and should not be invited.

rafe cameron does not care about your birthday- which is why when his mom forced him to come along with her to pick out a present for you, all he wanted to do was jump out of the car and run away.

“but she’s not even my friend.” he whined as they entered the mall, keeping the door open for his mom to go in with wheezies stroller.

“no buts. she’s family, rafe.”

he groans, his steps heavy against the large and perfectly square porcelain tiles of tiffany’s.

“just because she’s your best friends daughter doesn’t mean i have to get her a present.”

his mom shushes him as they approach the jewelry counter, placing a hand on his shoulder before smiling at the associate.

the associate is too enthusiastic to be genuine at this time of day. rafe rolls his eyes at her sickly sweet tone while she asks what they’re looking for. he feels a nudge at his side and his face twitches with annoyance.

“a necklace.” he says under his breath, planning on choosing the first one the associate suggests.

she leads them to the left side of the store, hand gesturing to an array of really expensive necklaces for them to choose from.

“i’ll be right where you found me if you need any help with specifics.” she smiles before abandoning them.

rafe turns to look at his mom, who holds wheezie on her hip. “so?” he shrugs.

“hm?”

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, “what one do you want?”

his mother laughs, adjusting wheezie on her hip and grabbing her hand, stopping her from dirtying the display with her chubby fingers. “i don’t want any of these. which one does y/n want?”

the question makes him think for a second. he doesn’t know what you would like. he flips through his memories for some sort of indication, but really he should just point to a random piece and call it a day.

red. he thinks, he remembers you saying your favorite color is red- on multiple occasions.

it was red like ladybugs 4 years ago. then red like pretty roses. red like red pandas a couple years before. red like taylor swifts iconic lipstick now.

he shakes his head, then points to a silver chain with a little red charm in it. “that.” he shrugs and then turns on his heel, before his mom can question if its the best choice.

…

he fidgets with the black ribbon wrapped neatly on top of the gift box theyd put the necklace in, eyes tracing over the bolder lettering over and over again as they walked back to the parking lot. he avoids making eye contact with his mom, like for some reason it’d trigger her to go on another rant about how he should act gentlemanly when he gives her the present or at least act like he cares.

they make it to the car without any conversation, save for some half-coherent blabber here and there from wheezie. he slips into the passenger seat while his mom buckles in wheeze into her carseat, the box still in his hands.

halfway through the car ride, the silence between them is broken. “i know you don’t like to talk about your feelings rafe, but you don’t do a great job at hiding your facial expressions.”

“mom,” he groans, leaning the back of his head deep into the leather seat of her escalade.

“i can tell you have a soft spot for her.” she continues, pressing on the brakes as they approach a red light.

“i don’t.” rafe grumbles, fingernail digging into the box and leaving a mark.

“deny all you want, but i saw the way you looked thinking about her. it’ll catch up to you one day.”

he finally brings his gaze to her, his blue eyes meeting her mirroring irises with a glint of curiosity over what her words mean. he makes to open his mouth, to ask what she means by the look. to ask what’s going to catch up to him. but then reminds himself it doesn’t matter and stops himself.

he doesn’t have anything to catch up to him, because he doesn’t have any sort of feelings for y/n.

there’s no way he feels something towards you- could he?

he shakes his head, putting the box to his side and out of his lap and flickering his eyes to his window. why is he letting his mom get into his head?

he doesn’t care about you. doesn’t care about hee stupid birthday, or even care much about the stupid present he chose for you.

—————-

your tenth birthday party is excatly how you wanted it to be. it’s perfectly decorated, with red streamers hung all over the downstairs of your house and taylor swift themed snacks and games. you were having the time of your life, drunk off shirley temples in fancy alcholol flutes.

you notice a stain on your birthday sash and you pout. quickly excusing yourself to drop off the sash in your room, you rush out of your back patio and into the house, making your way towards the stairs when you bump into someone’s solid chest.

here’s one thing to note; regardless of what everyone says, you do not like rafe cameron. “oh, rafe.” you say, taking a small step back-you can feel your cheeks burn under his gaze.

okay fine, the previous statement was a lie. but not completely, it was only a small crush. tiny. as big as the sprinkles on your birthday cake.

“here.” he shoves a small gift bag into your hands and then hastily walks away before you can ask what it is.

the interaction leaves you somewhat disoriented but also flustered, skin pink and pulse fast.

on your past birthdays, you always get one present from sarah and one from her parents. and that’s what you think it is, a present from sarah’s family.

you bring the bag up with you into you room and pull the sash off your body, throwing it into a random corner of your room.

you know it’s bad etiquette to open presents before it’s time, but for some reason you’re too drawn to the gift bag to wait. you peak your head out your bedroom door and find that the coast is clear, and open the bag, pulling out a small teal box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. you shake it close to your ear, guessing it’s some sort of jewelry and grin to yourself when you realize you’re right

you open the box and find the most perfect necklace ever. it’s silver, with a small red heart attached to its chain with your initial engraved onto it.

you’ll have to thank mrs and mr cameron for the gift. it might be even better than the one sarah got you.

you hear your mom call for you from the bottom of the stairs and you quickly shove the box into the top drawer of your dresser, leaving the bag on top of your bed before hurrying back downstairs to rejoin the party.

——-

you’re confused when mrs cameron hands you another gift bag when it’s time to open presents.

“another one?” you ask with your brow furrowed, though you aren’t complaining.

“from me, ward and wheeze.” she hands it to you with a warm smile and a quick wink.

that’s when it clicks that the present wasn’t from who you thought it.

you slip away from the party and rush back up to your room, grabbing the original bag and digging inside for a card or an indication form who it could be from.

there’s a note stuck to the bottom of the bag, made of ripped loose leaf and written with a dull pencil.

“happy birthday” it says, with no signature. but you don’t need one to know who it’s from.

suddenly, your heart starts hammering and your face starts to swell with a smile.

you can’t believe it- rafes the one who got you the necklace, and somehow he managed to make it perfect.

—-

authors note part 2 : i want to say this is extremely UNEDITED so i apologize for any errors and incoherences etc ! there’s a 90% chance i’m gonna take this down and repost this with edits lol.

taglist : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover @of-many-fandomss @dearreader03 @penny4yourthoughts @willowpains

PART 2

[arachine]

— what's going on down there?: a dick analysis

ᥫ᭡ featuring :: jake sully, miles quaritch & norm spellman

ᥫ᭡ includes :: their human forms + avatar forms

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: talking about dicks obviously, explicit sexual content (?), humor lol

ᥫ᭡ note :: if you know anything about arachine, you know i love a good dick analysis. these posts are intended for comedic purposes only, which means they’re not to be taken seriously.

— jake “ima slut you out” sully

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: as we all know, jake’s life on earth was very unfulfilling. he was a man who sacrificed his legs for the fate of the country, only to be disposed of into the unforgiving hands of society, with no way to reap the benefits (or lack thereof) that veterans were promised to receive. and after losing the privilege of mobility, his body changed drastically. he got smaller, his body got weaker, and yet, one thing remained—that dick! jake is a survivor, through and through—his personal motto is: if it ain’t broken, then it’s still working—and boy, he does not disappoint when it comes to the downstairs department. standing tall at 7 inches, is little jake (maybe not so little). when flaccid, his length measures at a solid 5.7 inches. definitely a grower. 

⟳ width: a little bit on the skinnier side, but he knows how to use it and that’s all that matters!

⟳ color: i think for the most part, his shaft definitely matches the rest of his body; though, i can see it maybe being slightly a little more darker at the base, like a very light beige. when he’s flaccid, his tip is a pretty pink, almost like a ballet slipper (aka the best pink). turns into an angry red when fully erect!

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: jake pegs me as the kinda guy who doesn’t really care? i mean, trimming isn’t foreign to him, because he has trimmed it before, and does so when he notices it’s gotten to be too long…but, i don’t think it’s something that he does often. to him, it’s just hair. he’s on his grown man shit, you know? 

02. curved?: uhm, yes! you know that one beyoncé lyric? yeah. 

03. any veins?: absolutely covered in ‘em

04. how he fucks with it: i’d like to think before his accident, he was a doggy style connoisseur—come on, it’s jake we’re talking about here. can’t nobody tell me otherwise! i just know he had bitches bent over, weaves sweated out, makeup all over the pillows…mans was f-u-c-k-i-n-g okay? fuckingggg. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: the masses may attack me, but it’s time i spoke up. the man has a monster schlong. a cooter cat killer, if you will. if you thought his human form was big, shit, you ain’t seen nothing yet! completely flaccid, his cock measures to about 10 inches. when fully hard, he grows an additional three! talk about impressive…

⟳ width: so thick that it basically slaps his thighs when he walks. the man could create a beat with it, get em into the soundcloud business now!

⟳ color: self explanatory tbh, it’s fucking blue. as blue as papa smurf’s ass. 

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that because he’s an avatar, he grows hair there. even if i’m wrong, i’m right. i don’t give a damn what james cameron says. he’s basically my character at this point, and i will him to have hair damnit! just…the idea of him having a full bush down there, in the wild, all primitive and shit…does something to me. idk. don’t ask me why i’m so nasty, blame my deadbeat father. 

02. curved?: is a banana yellow? there’s your answer. 

03. any veins?: i might have a brain aneurysm just thinking about it, but yes! god, yes. so many…so, so, so many. ribbed for her pleasure or whatever trojan said. 

04. how he fucks with it: is he still the doggy style connoisseur? yes. but now that’s got the strength of 20 men, backshots sound a whole lot like gunshots now. they say every time the mighty toruk makto thrusts into a cunt, a tree falls down or something. so, yes. fucks hard, fucks rough, fucks like he’s on a mission. what’s that one tik tok audio? “rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, i dive in her cervix.” yeah, he lives by that. 

— miles “on your knees, cadet!” quaritch

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: just gonna cut right to the chase. he’s huge. like pussy splitting huge. i don’t care what anyone says, you can argue with ya friend, you can argue with ya mother, but you cannot argue with me! coming in at a solid 6 when flaccid, quaritch takes the cake for the biggest cock on this list (at least, human form wise). at full length, he measures to about 7.8 inches! 

‘booooo’ you say, well, guess what? it’s the truth, and i’m just the messenger. whether you hate him or love him, he’s just that guy. 

⟳ width: surprisingly average. but it’s okay, sometimes you can’t have the best of both worlds. 

⟳ color: if my memory serves me right, he was pretty tan in the first movie. so, i’m gonna stick with that and say that it’s a pretty tan that transitions into a pale pink. i don’t know if some of you have seen old dick, but their tips get less saturated with age. it’s a phenomenon (not really, the blood flow to the groin is just a lot slower, which can make it appear kind of gre—anyway, i digress!)

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: this man is a colonel, so he’s all about discipline and keeping things nice and tidy. so, obviously, his hygiene reflects that. i don’t think he goes completely bald, but he does give it a good trim. kind of like a fade…just imagine a patch of grey, prickly hair. yeah. 

02. curved?: yes, and since he’s older, it’s probably curved a lot. you could probably hang something on it. maybe a towel, or a lanyard. it’s definitely useful for something!

03. any veins?: god, i don’t know why, but i have it in my head that he’s on steroids. he’s just so buff and strong, and i mean, yeah, he could just be really fit…but he could also be a self-image obsessed freak who takes drugs to be the perfect soldier. the correlation, you ask? well, i just feel like people who take steroids are really veiny, and i feel like his dick would be really, really veiny. so, thus the rant about steroids. steroid dick. 

04. how he fucks with it: don’t let his age fool you. he may very well be pushing his late fifties, but he’s still a young man at heart—and he’s definitely got the sex drive to prove it! i can see his favorite position being something like missionary. not so much because he enjoys the intimacy of it (like being face to face), but more so because he’s got a size kink—and definitely a dacryphilia kink. he enjoys seeing his partners cry, whether in pain, or in pleasure, or both! so, when you’re fucking him, don’t expect anything romantic. he just wants to see your pretty little face all teary eyed and pathetic. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: so big you can see it from space; that’s how the RDA mfs know they’re close, because they can see the tip protruding from pandora. no, but seriously, it’s still really huge. like maybe 12-14 inches—maximum. 

⟳ width: probably twice as thick as a human’s forearm. and god, it’s sooooo heavy. big breeding balls to match. 

⟳ color: blue blue blue…like wet fun dip. with just as many stripes as the american flag or whatever. 

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: yes, but the hair is black instead of grey and it’s probably really straight because na’vi hair is straight as fuck. 

02. curved?: sir, yes sir. 

03. any veins?: what’d i say? steroid dick. but even worse (better) now bc he’s so damn tall, he needs all the blood he can get down there.

04. how he fucks with it: has you in all types of positions. his favorites are anything that shows off his new found strength, so i’m betting on full nelsons and mating presses. just fast, powerful strokes. lives by the motto: can’t stop, won’t stop.

— norm “what’s the sq root of 69?” spellman

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: i’m sorry to disappoint the norm fuckers (if there are any), but he’s not that big. when he’s soft, his cock measures to about 4.8 inches, and at most, 6.2 inches when hard. 

⟳ width: skinny dick. 

⟳ color: dawg he’s so white, it’s like hella pale and the tip is so pink that when he’s aroused, it looks like there’s something wrong.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: like jake, i don’t think he really cares.

02. curved?: straight like a pencil

03. any veins?: like two, and they’re really prominent because he’s so fucking pale.

04. how he fucks with it: i don’t think human norm is getting puss, let’s be real. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: i am a firm believer in N.W.B.C—nerds with big cocks. it’s just the universe’s way of saying thank you, they just…they just do so much for us, you know? norm may not have been packing down there in his human form, but this was his second chance at redemption. he’s now a proud member of N.W.B.C, sporting an impressive 15 inches. you know that one scene in the first spider-man when pete’s looking at himself in the mirror and he looks inside his briefs? yeah, that was norm when he found out. the man got so excited, he accidentally catapulted a scientist out of pandora’s atmosphere with the weight of his cock. joking. 

⟳ width: on the skinnier side but still toe curling, nonetheless.

⟳ color: laffy taffy blue, with little (big) blueberry balls.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: no, he’s too busy in the lab and getting na’vi puss.

02. curved?: unfortunately no

03. any veins?: more than before, which he was pleasantly surprised to see.

04. how he fucks with it: norm’s got a big dick, but he acts so shy, like he’s scared of it or something. like stop playing boy and drop them drawls, the fuck? anyway, i think norm’s a sub. he pegs me as the type of guy who likes strong women, women who’ll tell him to shut the fuck up (because he talks so much) and eat their pussies. i guess this makes him a munch. yeah, he’s a munch. ice spice actually wrote that song with him in mind!

© arachine 2023

[bookishdream]

Something he wants

kaz brekker x fem!reader word count: 2k CW: a bit of unpleasant touching, but nothing further than that

If one peered carefully into the dark, they would see a pair of young adults walking down the cobblestone street. One of them – a man – limping and clicking his cane. The other one – a woman – with long hair and a magnificent dress, its colors conveying the moonlight. And they were arguing. 

“I said no,” the man’s voice was hoarse, loud enough for his companion’s ears but quiet enough so that no one else could hear. “Your complaining won’t help change my mind.”

“You’re unbearable, Brekker,” she remarked, crossing her arms on her chest. The gown had puffy, tulle sleeves. The pattern of roses with thorns was woven into the fabric, cleverly covering her crow tattoo. “I told you I would go no matter what you’d say, so here I am. And you know we have a better chance of obtaining information using me as bait.” She let her arms loose, playing with the cuffs of her dress. It was cold in Ketterdam and her dress had a wide opening that showed her entire back. 

“I don’t care,” Kaz rolled his eyes. The crow on his cane blinked mischievously, sending shivers down the woman’s spine. 

“Kaz, no offense, but you’re as pretty as Pim’s rear,” she looked into his eyes. Obviously she lied. However, she would never admit that to anyone. “I am your best shot at getting whatever you need. And it will be a lot easier than breaking into his house.” 

“You’re a stubborn thing, aren’t you?” he sent a smirk her way. Only later that night will he realize that a bit of red on her cheeks wasn’t from the freezing temperatures, but from the way he looked at her. And did he look at her, all right. Kaz didn’t pay attention to anything unless it looked like a stack of kruge on his desk. But when she had entered the Crow Club, demanding an audience with him, he had been stunned to say at least. Her hair had flown when she’d darted past Jesper, straight into Kaz’s cane. 

“Pardon?” she’d asked, eyeing the crow on his walking stick. “Are you Kaz Brekker? If not, get out of my way”

“Saints,” Jesper had whispered behind her, his palms loosely on his revolvers. 

“Why are you seeking him?” Brekker had said casually, the cane still in between the fierce creature and the staircase. 

“Unless you’re Brekker, I won’t be speaking with you,” she had crossed her arms on her chest, eyeing Kaz. “But you are him, aren’t you? The cane, the gloves, Nina said you’d be unusual.”

“Un–” Jesper had started, but one look from the Dirtyhands had made him stop. “I’ll go guard the door”

“Good idea,” Kaz had finally let his cane drop, leaning his body on it. His eyes focused on the woman. “What do you want?”

“I need your help,” she breathed. He’d only raised his eyebrows. “I need you to kill my father.”

Since then, they had been working together. Y/n with her striking beauty would seduce merchants, when Kaz was robbing their pockets. In more or less legal ways – depending on their mood. Not a single soul was aware that Brekker had such a compelling ace up his sleeve. 

“Kaz, please,” she whispered, her dress swooshing on the wind. “I dressed up, you can’t let my efforts go to waste.”  

Brekker rolled his eyes, but he must have admitted that the dress, in fact, looked magnificent on the woman. The color lit up her eyes and the brocade corset was making her skin glow. Yet, he didn’t speak another word, pointing his cane in the direction of the perpendicular street. Y/n tilted her head. “Which house?”

“The one with the green door.”

“Give me twenty minutes,” she nodded her head in acknowledgment. “No mourners.” 

“No funerals,” Kaz replied. 

Y/n went down the street. The lamps were dimmed, not giving much light, yet she could see the path clearly. When she was younger, she would wander around this district, dreaming about being an important persona herself. She would pretend that she was a grisha. One day she would be an Inferni and the other she’d be a Heartrender. She would have to be careful so as not to get caught by stadwatch or worse – her father. He despised grisha, the littlest mention about their kind got his blood boiling. He would murder them. And he would make her watch. 

When she got close to the door, she took a breath in. Her body tensed and her heart beating so fast, she could swear people down the street were able to hear it. She knocked, once, twice. No one answered at first, but a moment later she noticed a loud noise of someone making their way to the door. 

“Who’s there?!” a man’s voice echoed from behind the entrance. 

“Please, I need your help,” she strived to make her voice sound as desperate as she could. She forced her palms to tremble and she bit her lower lip. She promised twenty minutes and she needed to be a bit faster than that. “I-i got lost,” she stammered. 

The door opened with a wide swing, the man’s face was wrinkled and he didn’t look as pleasant as she remembered from the photo. When his eyes laid on her body, she knew exactly when he thought about taking advantage of her. She knew what he saw. A broken girl, who looked like a doll, with her big, princess-looking dress, smeared make-up and a trembling lip. She couldn’t look longer than a few seconds at him, which he also took notice of. She was nothing but a broken piece to him. And she made him believe in whatever he wanted. 

He helped her get up and while still touching her arms, he led her to the office or a living room, she didn’t know. His breath reeked of whatever alcohol he was drinking prior to her interruption. She wanted to grimace but kept her face straight, Kaz trusted her to get this work done and she didn’t plan on doing otherwise. 

“So, darling, what are you doing in this neighborhood?” He forced her to sit in one of the armchairs standing opposite to the big, oak desk. “Such a fine, little thing getting lost in the night? You never know what can get from behind the corner.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She suppressed a shudder and only smiled, hoping she looked as coy as she wanted to convey. She wanted to punch him. 

“My father was playing cards in one of the clubs,” she started, her fingers were trembling so she intertwined them. “I just wanted to take a breath, but I went too far and I got lost. I don’t know what to do…” she forced her voice to break. The old man’s face was focused on her lips the entire time she was talking, her heart beat with a new dose of uneasiness. Where the hell was Kaz?

“It’s okay, doll” he placed his fingers under her chin, lifting her head. She could smell a cigar smoke somewhere in the room. She didn’t notice that the lamps were dimmed and the heavy, dark curtains were blocking out the light from the street lamps. She discreetly scanned the room, looking out for any possible exits, but the merchant wasn’t as stupid as she originally had thought. There was only one way in and only one way out. Right behind her. 

The merchant was looking into her eyes, searching for something. “You think you are so clever huh?” his hold on her chin started growing stronger, soon he moved his palm to her throat, squeezing it, cutting her airways. She sucked in a breath but couldn’t do much about her situation. “Do you think I haven’t seen you around this bastard Brekker?” He squeezed her neck harder, she could feel her eyes water. “Do you think I wasn’t aware you would be coming here tonight?” 

She tried speaking, but her efforts came out fruitless. She saw in his eyes that he had no intention to let her go. She was happy she would die in a gorgeous dress, at least. 

“Oh, no, no, no,” he tsked. “You won’t die tonight, doll, not until I get my answers.” The merchant let go of her neck, just so she could utter a sentence.

“I will never betray Kaz,” she spat on his face, clawing at his palm. 

‘You bitch,” he let her go. Y/n saw an opening and kicked him into his stomach. She turned on her heel and made her way to the door, but the man managed to grab her waist and kept her in one place. “I wonder if Brekker cares enough for you to come here,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers along her spine. She felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rising. She tried wiggling out of his hold, but to no avail. 

“Actually, I’ve been here for quite some time now,” came a voice from behind the desk. This husky voice, whose owner she wanted to murder with her bare hands at that moment. “You have something I want, Marcus.”

Y/n saw Jesper on the threshold, pointing both of his guns in their direction. When she looked up, Zemeni winked at her, letting her body relax. She forced herself free out of the merchant’s arms and made her way towards the exit. She was trembling. She saw Kaz motioning for Marcus to sit on the armchair she was previously on. The merchant was making his way to this direction slowly, never letting Brekker out of his sight. How clever. 

“I must admit, your bitch is a feisty one,” he put his ankle onto his other knee, resting his hands on the armrests. In a second his head flew to the right and blood was leaking from his cheekbone. 

“Call her a bitch one more time and I will break every single one of your fingers,” Kaz remarked calmly, his demeanor still the same. “I came for the money.”

“I don’t have your money,” Marcus countered, clutching a handkerchief to his face. “I have never stolen from you.” 

“You are mistaken,” he got up, pulling a paper out of his pocket. “You were about to steal from me, Marcus. That’s what you wrote to your acquaintance, isn’t it?”

The merchant sat there, wordlessly, his eyes wide. Y/n smirked into his direction, whistling. “You’re a naughty boy, Marcus, a naughty boy.”

The man only snarled at her, she rolled her eyes in response. 

“Well, since you wanted to steal from me, all I want is a percentage of your shares in one of the clubs in the Harbor,” Kaz looked at Marcus, his eyes still locked on the merchant. 

“You are crazy,” he yelled. 

“And you are a dead man unless you agree. It doesn’t have to be a big part, just a small one would be enough.” 

After some time, Kaz had his shares and she had a bruise around your neck. She could still feel the phantom of Marcus’s hands on her throat. Until it heals, she won’t make it go away. 

“So now what?” Jesper asked, his revolvers back in his belt and a smirk on his lips. “You’re going to sabotage the rest of his clubs?”

She was looking at the pavement, but not hearing Kaz’s response, she lifted her head and sent him a look. “Saints, you really want to do that.”

“Why else would I want shares from only one club? It wouldn’t be much if there were five others now, would it?” 

Jesper whistled at his words and resumed his vigorous steps towards the Crow Club. Y/n stayed behind, her legs heavy. 

“Kaz?” she whispered. She saw him lifting his eyebrow. “Why didn’t you help me when you saw him strangling me?” 

“I didn’t see it,” he replied. 

“What?”

“I only saw him holding you and you were trying to elbow him. And y/n I wanted to smash his skull so hard that his brain would leak out of his ears,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“That’s disgusting,” she breathed a light laugh. Her brows knitted together. “How did you get in?”

“A magician never tells his secrets,” he smirked, leaving her behind him. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don’t know if you already wrote about this so forgive me if this is a repeat question but, what do you think about Leona’s depression? I feel it’s pretty obvious in game and yet it’s always glossed over as him being ‘lazy’ idk but I don’t find many talking about his really shitty mental health with any seriousness.

Surprisingly I haven't addressed this (at least not in detail)! So thank you for bringing this to my attention; I definitely feel like I've heard people (especially Leona fans) discuss this quite frequently. If you look in the right places, you’re sure to find insightful commentary on the subject! I know I certainly have, but I've yet to say my own piece on it yet.

Now, before I actually get to actually rambling, I want to preface this post with a few points so we can walk in knowing the perspective I'm coming from. Analysis isn't a "one size fits all"! My experiences and background will color the lenses through which I view Leona’s mental health.

First and foremost, I usually don't go out of my way to claim, "this character has X condition" beyond what is outright stated or implied in canon. That does NOT mean that I disapprove of fans who may have their headcanons that say otherwise or project onto or relate to characters' mental health. You can consume the media you like however you want! I am just saying that I don't have this preference so I feel somewhat uncomfortable speaking on this matter.

Secondly, I am trying to approach this situation from a very clinical viewpoint (as I do have knowledge in this area). This means that when I look for “implications” or read between the lines, I am doing so as objectively as I can. It’s how I choose to process and understand characters from a health angle. This does not mean that my opinion is certain; you could very well find someone else in this area that gives you the opposite opinion. As always, I warn you that my response is for fun, it is NOT meant to be taken as medical advice.

Lastly, PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE POST before you comment or share your own thoughts. I'm up for having a discussion, but I ask that you not do so without getting the full context of my thoughts. It’s a lot of information, and I did my best to break it down in a way that (I hope!!) is easy to understand.

CONTENT WARNING: due to the nature of the question at hand, I will be discussing or mentioning potentially triggering topics such as ***depression, suicidal ideation, dieting, homophobia, and substance abuse.*** Please look away if you are not in the right headspace to read about such topics.

Okay, let's rip the band-aid off now: I don't think Leona is clinically depressed.

Pause. Rewind. Take note of my careful wording there: clinically depressed. I don't think Leona is clinically depressed. What does that mean, and how does that relate to "being depressed"?

I think when people describe Leona as "depressed", they commonly mean that he "has depression", not that he is just feeling sad or has low self-esteem. By "having depression", I'm going to assume they are referring to "major depressive disorder", which is the technical term for the condition.

"It's just an abbreviation of the longer term. What's the issue with using 'depression'?” you're probably wondering. “You understand that we mean major depressive disorder.” Well, equating the two does NOT a diagnosis make.

Mental conditions such as major depressive disorder are documented in a handbook known as the DSM (or the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). The latest version, the DSM-5-TR (5th edition with text revisions), was published in 2022. The DSM is a manual that sets forth criteria for each diagnosis in its pages. Of course, this includes major depressive disorder—and it may surprise you to learn that Leona does not meet its diagnostic criteria.

A diagnosis of "depression" (the term I will henceforth be using as shorthand for the disorder) is much more than having persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness, being unmotivated/lazy, and wanting to sleep often. (I bring up these three things specifically because they are the ones I see being pointed at most frequently to “prove” the diagnosis.)

In order to be formally diagnosed, an individual must be experiencing at least 5 or more of the following symptoms during the same 2-week period:

Depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day.

Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day.

Significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain, or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day.

A slowing down of thought and a reduction of physical movement (observable by others, not merely subjective feelings of restlessness or being slowed down).

Fatigue or loss of energy nearly every day.

Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day.

Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day.

Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide.

At least one of the symptoms should be either 1) depressed mood or 2) loss of interest or pleasure in activities they previously found enjoyable. Furthermore, the symptoms must cause what is known as "clinically significant distress", which is defined by impairment in important areas of functioning. This includes, but is not limited to, socialization, occupation, and/or education. The symptoms must also not be the result of substance abuse or another medical condition, and the individual must ever have experienced mania or hypomania.

Let’s briefly go through each criterion + additional documents and see what evidence there is or isn’t to support it:

We do not have his medical records to cross reference, so for the sake of convenience let’s assume no underlying or additional medical conditions.

We must consider additional context about family, lifestyle, etc. which can confound his symptoms. For example, as a prince, Leona has grown up having most things done for him by servants. This is what he is used to. So when we observe Leona not doing basic things for himself (getting food, doing laundry, making his bed), how much of this can we truly attribute to an underlying condition and how much of this can we attribute to Leona being accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle?

Leona (at least from what we know of) does not experience mania, nor is he depicted as taking mind or behavior altering substances.

Of the first two criteria, Leona must fit into one: either 1) depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day, or 2) markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day. These depend on how you interpret his actions and behaviors. Personally, I don’t think Leona strongly fits into 2 because he still has an interest in his hobbies like Magift/Spelldrive and playing chess (though his involvement in it varies depending on the context). I will concede that there is stronger evidence for 1 over 2, as Leona has definitely expressed sadness and despair regarding himself and his future prospects. It is these thoughts that drive him away from home and keep contact with his family at a minimum. It is these thoughts that prevent him from seeing himself as worthy or even capable of change—a sentiment he shares in book 6, when he encourages Jamil but does not grant himself the same kindness or optimism. For this reason, we will go with the first criterion.

He has not experienced notable weight loss nor gain, nor a notable increase or decrease in appetite. Regarding his general diet, Leona has expressed a preference for meat and rejects vegetables. This by itself does not really provide any useful information in of itself; many people have this preference.

Leona does not experience a slowing down of thought. He is still very sharp and quick-witted in responding to his surroundings, especially in potentially dangerous ones, and coming up with an appropriate plan to counter. It can be argued that Leona has had a reduction in physical movement, as many characters often make remarks about how they perceive him as lazy or not doing much. However, this criterion actually refers to the speed at which one completes an activity and as far as I know, Leona is not said to be moving sluggishly, he only conducts himself in a manner that can be described as "lazily elegant". Even if we stretched the definition to encompass long-term goals he is putting off (like graduation), this criteria is still not counted for Leona since the wording used in the DSM-5-TR states “slowing down of thought AND reduction in physical movement” must be present. In other words, both must be true, not just one of them.

Leona does seem to experience some level of fatigue or loss of energy. This could be one way of interpreting his desire to sleep excessively instead of tending to more meaningful matters (like class). Fatigue, in this case, can also refer to emotional or mental fatigue. The sleep, then, can serve as a means of escape from reality for Leona, but it does not indicate actual physical tiredness. Rather, the tiredness can be intangible. This is also a potential explanation for his lack of motivation when it comes to some activities, especially those that demand him to take charge.

Leona does appear to experience feelings of worthlessness, though perhaps not excessive or inappropriate guilt. In fact, I would wager Leona does not demonstrate the latter, although this could be attributed to the fact that we are not in his head and he does not open up to others about his feelings. For example, we still don't know what his feelings are on almost killing Ruggie in a fit of rage. This does not discredit this criterion though, as the wording in the DSM is “feelings of worthlessness OR […] guilt” meaning one or the other suffices. It is no secret that Leona seeks recognition for his skills—something he was denied as a child and even put down for. While he is aware of his strengths, he has moments when he doubts himself (stating that he can’t change, or giving up when he realizes his plans won’t work so what’s the point in trying?), the contributions he can make (even when his older brother reassures him he can help their country), and encouragement from others (Jack telling him his play inspired him).

As I've said before, Leona does not have a diminished ability to think or concentrate. It has been shown to us time and time again that he doesn't do schoolwork not for lack of trying or lack of understanding, but because he thinks of himself as above it. Leona has already been tutored by the finest teachers royal money can buy, so he believes there is not much else for him to learn. He is also not shown to be indecisive--he can make decisions very quickly and can guide others or at least convince them to go along with him.

Leona does not have suicidal ideation or have recurring thoughts of committing suicide/death. While it's true that this is a game rated for ages 4+ (and therefore has restrictions on what content is and is not allowed in it), TWST has demonstrated to us that there are ways to imply suicidal ideation and other dark themes without explicitly saying it. (One notable example is Idia in late book 6, where he drops lines like "I'll go with you" and expresses dissatisfaction with "this world" to Ortho, who is known to be dead. To this, Ortho reassures him and encourages him to keep living. In fact, I could go on a whole tangent about how Idia better fits the criteria for major depressive disorder, but we're not going to get into that here.) The fact that TWST does not really imply this about Leona makes me think this is not true of him.

It can be said that the symptoms Leona does have are clinically significant, as his behavior is shown to have significant impact on his studies to the point where he was held back a grade. This was not because he did not know the material, but because he failed to find the motivation to attend class and to do his assignments. It also appears that Leona didn't really make an effort to work toward his future until book 7, when he actually talks his internship plans and about wanting to graduate.

We may guess that the symptoms persisted for two weeks or more (given Leona’s history and involvement in the main story), but the frequency of the symptoms is unclear since the game controls what we see of Leona and what we don’t.

Taking all of that into consideration, Leona does in fact exhibit depressive symptoms, but only 3 at most (I say “at most” because we have no idea about the true frequency at which some behaviors occur; we aren’t with Leona 24/7, nor has he reported it to us) out of the 8 total criteria. That’s 2 short of a diagnosis.

“But wait, there’s a lot of information missing here! We don’t have medical records, his weight and appetite changes, etc.” That’s true—but see, the main issue I take with diagnosing fictional characters in the first place is that we oftentimes do not know a character in detail enough to understand the full scope of their lives and symptoms. Noticing a few details is one thing and valid to an extent, but to evaluate an individual is not purely observational. This is particularly true for TWST characters, as even though there is plenty of content to refer back to for behavior, there is still a lack of really going into daily activities or deep feelings (beyond the one post-OB flashback for the OB boys). We cannot observe their behavior extensively. Because of this, tons of key criteria may not be visible to us from the audience’s perspective, let alone a medical history or other data to consider for assessment. We will almost always have an incomplete profile of a fictional character. Health is holistic and not entirely based on what we as individuals see or on all anecdotal evidence.

Just as health considers all parts of the individual, we, too, must consider individual cases of depression. It is possible for depression to exist without a diagnosis—many people (especially older adults), unfortunately, go undiagnosed for their condition. At the same time, it is possible for Leona to have depression which manifests in an atypical way. Each person with depression presents differently than the last, so I so not intend to make any blanket statements about the general population with this condition. The only statement I am making here is that based on my own interpretation of the current lore TWST has granted is, Leona Kingscholar does not satisfy the criteria for a formal clinical diagnosis, at least not for major depressive disorder as is defined by the DSM-5-TR.

Interestingly, Leona does fit the diagnostic criteria for a subclinical form of depression in a 1994 version of the DSM (IV). Minor depression or minor depressive disorder, colloquially known as “everyday depression”, is defined as having 2–4 depressive symptoms persisting for more than 2 weeks. One of these symptoms must be either depressed mood or loss of interest. It should be noted that this terminology is no longer recognized, as new information is added and dropped from the manual all the time. The information is flexible based on the consensus of a panel of hundreds of experts. Older versions of the DSM can be horribly outdated and it is not advised to reference them over newer ones. (As an example, "homosexuality" was legitimately listed as a mental illness in the very first version of the DSM. Yikes. Thankfully, this was dropped from the DSM-II. Other conditions like "multiple personality disorder" are granted new names like "dissociative identity disorder" or reworked altogether as our studies and understanding of mental health and science improve. It is important to keep up with the research coming out and update our approaches accordingly.)

We do not currently have a label for Leona’s situation aside from perhaps experiencing depressive episodes (periods of notable sadness lasting under 2 weeks) and exhibiting some depressive symptoms. I must stress that just because we lack a full-blown diagnosis, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t impact his life. Leona is shown to very clearly be struggling with his mental health. He spends a lot of time in bed, typically cannot be motivated to attend class or do complete assignments, and has moments where he thinks very lowly of himself in spite of the confidence he exudes to others. What's more is that because Leona does not speak to others about what he's going through, it comes off as laziness or arrogance to his peers. Think of it this way: if you have a bad day and snap at a stranger or an acquaintance, the stranger/acquaintance is far less likely to grant you grace or forgiveness for your behavior compared to, say, a friend. They are not as familiar with you, so they will have less patience and are less likely to consider what you may be going through on a personal level. This also applies on a fandom level; if a fan is not actively reading between the lines, they, like Leona's peers, may miss the depressive symptoms he is displaying because they aren't looking for it. How many people can we say are close friends with Leona for him to open up to them about his circumstances? I would say Leona barely even lets his own dorm members be intimate enough with him to let them know about this part of himself. He has Savanaclaw backing him, but he probably does not talk to the mobs extensively. Ruggie is his errand boy, but I doubt Leona pours his heart out to him. And Jack is the newbie who did technically betray their dorm, so Leona might not trust him. Forget about people beyond his dorm. Even his family is not much better off; we've seen that Leona tends to brush off his brother's friendliness and attempts to make amends. There is no strong support system in place for him, which is tricky because Leona perpetuates it by keeping others at bay. In the light novel adaptation of book 2, Leona has an inner monologue about how he is afraid of letting others give him hope because it will encourage him to try again, only to fail another time. I imagine similar logic applies here; he is afraid of showing his vulnerable side because it might give him hope for change when he as late as book 6 expresses that he has given up on himself. I think that this is the detail about Leona most look to when they consider his mental health. The hallmark of depression is, after all, the feeling of perpetual sadness and despair itself. Most do not realize that other factors are considered.

From a clinical lens, it is not “obvious" that Leona is depressed. However, I understand why the prevailing sentiment tends to skew in the opposite direction. For the layman, it may be difficult to distinguish what is and is not clinically significant enough to warrant an actual diagnosis. Again, most will cite the same three pieces of information to support the depression reading: Leona's irritability, his unwillingness to participate, and the rejection he experienced as a child (which has now manifested as self-doubt and low self-esteem). Characters are often judged based on fans' own experiences, and this naturally comes with biases and subjectivity. Thus, some fans may project their own understanding or preconceived notions of what the "typical" depressed person acts like in their head onto Leona. This is normal human empathy at play. I believe that other fans see depression in Leona either because they experience it themselves or are familiar with someone in the same shoes. It can be difficult, and at times we can find solace and solidarity in fiction, especially if we find a character that “speaks to us” and seems relatable. That character may be Leona for some people. If you see do see him in this light or relate to his situation, I’m not invalidating your feelings. On the contrary, I'm happy that you were able to find comfort in him and that a piece of media you love can serve as a coping mechanism. You keep on doing you!

It is at this point that I will reiterate what I said at the start with a little extra nuance: I do not think Leona clinically depressed BUT I do believe he has depressive symptoms and poor mental health as the result of his cumulative circumstances. It is possible for him to have major depressive disorder, but we cannot determine this for certain with the information available to us right now. We are still missing several key components that would typically be considered in the evaluation process.

I think it's important to step back from focusing on labels and instead focus on the individual experience, and how you can still grow as a person and not let a perceived label define you. Leona is definitely working on himself! Changing, particularly changing a deeply ingrained mindset, takes much time and effort. We may not see the progress since Leona tends to hide it and/or we have limited intractions with him. We may not always see giant strides because the process is difficult. Even so, Leona is trying to jump over those mental and emotional hurdles. He's putting his all back into Magift/Spelldrive training. He's attending classes and doing the assignments. He's going home for the holidays. He has an internship planned. He wants to graduate. I've enjoyed following Leona's journey of growth and self-development and seeing all the intense discussion surrounding that. It all comes from a place of love and wanting to support the characters we care about, no matter how we may individually view him.

[marlynnofmany]

The Good Perch

“You would think,” Captain Sunlight said drily, “That a spaceport organized enough to have a whole section for courier ships would have a more visible labeling system.”

“Yeah, really,” I agreed with a frown at the small sign marking our ship’s berth. The thing was barely ankle-height and a thin font. Not even a bright color; it hardly stood out from the pavement in its gray-and-black subtlety. With all the spacefarers parading past in a rainbow of body types and clothing styles, not to mention the equally wild spaceships everywhere, those signs were easy to miss. I asked the captain, “Have you been here before? Is this normal, or did the wrong person take charge of designing things?”

“It’s been a while,” said Captain Sunlight, crossing her scaly arms. “I don’t recall this being a problem before. But I suspect our wayward client is still wandering the walkways looking for us.”

“Normally I’d say our ship would stand out, but the visibility’s not great for that either.” Lemon-shaped spaceships with foldable solar sails were pretty uncommon. The one parked behind us would have been easy to spot from a distance if not for the larger ships looming close on either side. These berths were too close together.

Captain Sunlight pulled her phone out of a belt pouch. “Still says they’re on the way.”

“Maybe we need to scoot forward a bit?” I suggested. “Make the ship easier to see?” I stepped up to the walkway for a better look at the view from there.

This turned out to give someone else a better view of me.

“Hey, person who climbs things!” called a cheerful voice. “Come help me brace this.”

After a confused half-second, I located the speaker on top of the gray-brown ship next to ours. I realized with a start that this wasn’t the first time our ships had been parked side-by-side. “Hey, Acorn!” I called back. “Are you waiting for clients too?”

“We were,” the fellow courier called back, waving something that looked like a wrench. She herself still looked like a baboon crossed with a crocodile. “Now it’s time for errands and maintenance, and this needs fixing before we get back into space. Care to give me a hand? Everybody else is either busy or too much of a coward to get up this high.”

“Sure thing!” I said with a glance at Captain Sunlight, who was waving me on. “What’s the best way up?”

Acorn directed me to a row of handholds on the other side of the ship, which made for a nice easy climb. A pity her crewmates didn’t appreciate heights; the spaceport was a beautiful, chaotic sprawl of color from here. And the top of the ship was flat enough to feel plenty safe.

“Welcome to the good perch,” Acorn said, offering me a wrench. “It’s a very exclusive club. Can you hold this part in place so I can adjust that?”

“Absolutely,” I told her. “This end, right? Wait, got it.” I actually had no idea what this open panel was for, but I like to think I hid it well. The job was a simple one with two of us. I could see how it would have been awkward with just one, though. I wondered if she’d resorted to using her feet to hold things in place. I sure would have.

“Got it!” she said. “Now to close it all up. I knew that would be quick.”

I removed the wrench. “What’s the saying? More hands means less work?”

“Makes sense to me. Though by that logic, your friend there could get everything done by himself.”

I looked down to see that Mur had joined Captain Sunlight, in all his many-tentacled squidlike glory. “He probably could, actually. Though I don’t know how he is with heights.”

“Well, no need to share the good perch,” Acorn announced, snapping the panel shut. She spread her arms. “Look at this panorama!”

“It is a nice one! I was just thinking that. What kind of ship is that blobby green one over there? I haven’t seen it before.”

Acorn stood up for a better look. “I think it’s a Waterwill design?”

“That makes sense.” I got to my feet too, glad the ship we stood on wasn’t one of the shiny racer models. Those were much too slippery to make good sightseeing towers.

Not that Acorn seemed bothered either way. She probably would have found grippy shoes somewhere and run up the side just to prove she could. Her appreciation for climbing had been a nice change the first time I ran into her, and was no different now, given how much time I spent among alien crewmates who didn’t have tree-swinging monkeys in their family trees.

“That ship looks like it would make an excellent climbing structure,” she said, pointing at a pink model with grooves along the sides. “Pity it belongs to a security force who are likely to be uptight about such things.”

I laughed. “Isn’t that always the way of it? There’s a police station in my hometown with a roof that slopes down to meet a very climbable wall, and you have no idea how tempting it looked. Well. Maybe you know.”

She definitely understood, and we spent an enjoyable few minutes talking about which buildings and spaceships looked like the most fun to climb.

Then I spotted someone wandering from one berth marker to the next, looking both lost and a little nearsighted, and I had a suspicion that I’d found our missing client. This was a fellow human wearing the kind of drapey clothes that spoke of dignity and no little wealth. Her expression was exactly the kind I’d wear if I had to deal with those hard-to-read signs long enough to be late.

“Hey Captain!” I called down to Sunlight. “Is that her?” I pointed.

Captain Sunlight hurried forward with her phone out, matching the look of the person with an image there.

Yup. Called it.

Acorn chuckled while the pair of them exchanged greetings and complaints about the station layout. “Nice one. The wisdom of the heights strikes again. Do they need you down there now?”

“Probably,” I said. “Actually not yet, this package is a small one. Mur’s got it.” As I spoke, Mur pushed a hovercart forward with a box on it liberally covered in “fragile” stickers. It had a carrying handle on the top, which it had come with, and rubber bumpers on every corner, which Paint had added just to be safe. All precautions had been taken.

“Oh good,” Acorn said. “Then enjoy the view with me a little longer.” She bent to pull something from the toolbag’s side pocket. “Top-of-the-tree snack?”

“Are those the ones you’re named for?” I asked, remembering a conversation the last time I’d seen her. Translations being what they were, her name meant a similar nut from her homeworld. It had been an amusing conversation, since we were both named after things found in trees. She didn’t know what a robin was, but once I explained it, she claimed to have met a number of people back home with similar names.

“Yes, the salted version,” Acorn said, opening the bag. “I recall these were on the safe list for your species.”

“Safe and tasty,” I agreed. “Thank you.” I accepted a handful of alien acorns and marveled quietly at how universal salt was on snacks. Well, for some species. I don’t think Waterwills or Strongarms were that into overly salty food in general. Probably for slug-like reasons. Eggskin the medic would know. I should ask him later.

Acorn peered over the other side of the ship. “Ohh, Riverbrook’s wearing his goofy helmet. I owe him some acoustics since he played that loud music while I was working.” She crouched, peering down at a crewmate who had just emerged. With care, she selected a nut from the bag. “Think you can thwack him from here?” The grin she threw over her shoulder was full of teeth.

I joined her at the edge. “I like my odds.”

The crewmate was one of those people made of crystals instead of flesh. I forget the species name. Very interesting to look at, and unlikely to be hurt by a high velocity acorn no matter where it hit. The helmet was golden, shiny, and probably a fashion statement of some kind.

“First we throw, then we hide.”

“Got it.”

“One, two, throw!”

Ping! Ping!

“Ow, what was — Acorn, is this yours?!”

We both giggled in childlike glee, just out of sight.

“No thanks, you can have it!” Acorn called back.

“I’m going to put this in your fruit drink next mealtime.”

“Good luck with that!”

I nodded. “Ah, a prank war. A noble pursuit.”

“See, you get it.” Acorn offered me more nuts.

I took them and made myself more comfortable. “I don’t suppose you know what a rattlesnake is?”

“Nope.”

“Then let me tell you about the time I got Trrili — the big scary Mesmer on my ship — with a classic prank from Earth.”

“Oh, do tell!”

I didn’t have to get back to my ship for a few minutes yet, which left plenty of time for more anecdotes and snacks on the good perch.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[mikanotes]

way home

xiao x gn!reader | 2.2k words

genre: established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive

warnings: alcohol usage, kissing, reader is a bit drunk, reader is very affectionate, xiao is so in love help him, suggestive content (sorta!) takes place during the current event.

synopsis: xiao takes care of you and continuously prays to the archons to help him.

author's note: thanks to my best friend for the idea

Wangshu Inn has never seemed so tall.

You stare up at the intricate structure of the building and begin to think you’d be better off starting architecture studies by analyzing every detail around it than actually trying to get all the way up. Granted, there is an elevator, but you walked all the way from the Stone Gate to here, and you already feel like your legs will give out on you any time now.

So the very short walk to the elevator feels like it will seriously kill you, right now, and you swear it’s not the alcohol making it sound so dramatic. (It is.)

“You know drinking this much isn’t good?”

Before you can turn around, Xiao's arm is circling around your shoulders to support you and his free hand comes to hold your wrist, gently. “Let’s go.”

You don’t get time to actually reply before Xiao is teleporting you both to his room at the Inn. The Adeptus had considered simply going to the top balcony as he usually always did, but decided the height might do nothing good to your current state— If he was to judge by how wobbly your legs were as you walked up to the Inn.

Because he’d been watching, obviously.

He’d waited for you to call, sure, but eventually you seemed way too out-of-it for him to just stand by and no nothing but wait to hear his name on your lips.

“Xiao…”

And there it is.

He turns his face to look at you and, from so close, he can see the small details lost to the distance when he was watching earlier. Your eyes are half-lidded, lips a bit colored by the wine you’ve clearly been drinking. He brings a careful and hesitant hand up to your cheek and slowly presses against it, breathing out a bit shakily. It’s warm. Is that the alcohol? Or are you blushing?

“Xiao, you know…” you speak, and your words aren’t exactly slurred together but just enough to tell you’re not entirely sober. You bring a hand up to his shoulder, staring into his eyes with a look he’s struggling to find the words to describe— Though it’s painfully obvious.

He doesn’t want to think about it.

It’s a look of want.

“I missed you so much,” you sob, ever-so-dramatic. Your hand slides down his collarbone and your thumb runs back and forth against the fabric of his shirt. He has to take a breath. Your free hand moves to his face, not quite touching yet, just moving strands of his hair away with the tips of your fingers. “Ah… So pretty…”

Xiao is definitely going to die.

Your fingers move down to trace against the side of his face and his eyes flutter close for a moment, his own hand falling from your face and finding something to hold onto. He grasps at your shoulder, or the clothing covering it, his grip as weak as the rest of him. 

You make him feel so weak. He can’t bring himself to hate it, not even close. Not when it feels so surprisingly good.

“You should sleep.” he says, except his words come out much less firm than he’s intended them to, and much more breathy and compliant. He sighs softly, eyes closing again as he shakes his head, before finding any resolve he has in his heart and holding onto it for dear life. When he looks back at you, he has this strict look in his eyes. “Okay?” he questions, tone resolute but soft.

You pout a little bit, both hands moving to cling to the top of his clothing, now. Xiao takes a deep, trembling breath as he looks at you. Archons I beg of you, save me right now. 

“I’m not tired.” you sigh, almost sounding frustrated.

“The speed at which you got here begs to differ. Your legs are wobbly, surely you realized that much?“ he speaks quietly, raising his eyebrows. You scoff, and it’s a far cry from your usual annoyed scoffs. No, this is just… Cute. Xiao doesn’t realize he’s smiling before he finds you glaring at him. “What?” he deadpans, or tries to, because there’s a small hint of amusement betraying his tone. His gaze is fond as it meets your displeased one.

“You were watching me?” you say, pushing an accusatory finger into his chest. He gives you a look that says ‘Seriously?’ (you know he always does) but you do not relent. “Could’ve at least picked me up, then!”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate being seen as weak enough to be carried all the way to your destination.”

“And you would be right!”

Xiao laughs just a little. “Then?”

You blink. “Um.” you look away, faltering. “I don’t know.”

“Mhm. You should sleep, see? You’re barely making any sense.” he says, holding your arm and squeezing it lightly. “Come on. I’ll lend you my bed.”

You groan in annoyance, head tilting back, before you reluctantly make your way over to the Yaksha’s bed. You plop down on the mattress, taking off your shoes slowly. Then your eyes widen as a thought crosses your mind, and you look up at him again.

“You claim an Adeptus doesn’t need sleep.”

Xiao is pouring water into a cup when he turns to look at you. His eyes narrow, trying to find where you could possibly be going with this. After all, this isn’t anything new. You and Xiao have known each other for a long time now. “That’s right.” he affirms, gaze moving back to the cup as he sets down the pitcher. “Why?”

You hold the edge of the bed and lean forward a little, and though the distance between the two of you is long, Xiao feels like stumbling back.

“Because you say you’re lending me your bed,” you start, looking away in ‘thought’, “Then you say you don’t sleep, so you’re not using it, right?”

Xiao blinks, looking to the floor further away, then back up at you. “… Right.”

“Then make use of it.” you say casually, tilting your head to the side. “Come on. Sleep with me.”

“I will not.” Xiao immediately says, eyes widening a little. Face reddening a little. What is with you, tonight?! He’ll have to make sure you never go near any alcohol ever again. He sighs and walks over to you, “Go to sleep. You’re doing too much thinking for someone this inebriated. And it’s clearly not doing anyone any good.” he speaks quietly, handing you the glass of water.

You take his hand and tug a little. “Come on.” you complain, looking up at him. “Xiao…”

Saying his name like that is just unfair.

He looks away. “Drink already.”

“What is this? The Conqueror of Demons is intimidated by his drunk friend’s invitation to sleep?” you tease, a small grin on your lips. You take the glass, finally. “That’s cute.”

Now he’s glaring. “Is that right.” he scoffs, watching you drink the water.

No. He shakes his head. You’re definitely trying to get under his skin. The worst part is that it worked, even if for just a few seconds. You hum, satisfied as you set the glass on the bedside table. Then you wrap your arms around his waist and put your chin on his stomach, looking up at him. He doesn’t move, except for his hand, which finds your face out of habit. “What now?” he sighs, and it would sound annoyed if it wasn’t for the love in his eyes.

You just smile, eyelids drooping and face tilting into his hand. “Mm… I wanna sleep next to you.” you say, almost too quiet to be heard. This time, Xiao sees the effects of your drunken shenanigans hitting your system in full force, and you clearly look a second away from falling asleep.

He smiles softly to himself. “Alright.” he says, caressing your cheek. “Then lay down.”

You huff and let go of him to roll over on the bed, sighing in satisfaction. You look like you could just melt into the mattress, with that comfortable air on your face. Xiao sits down and slowly moves to lay down at your side, moving a little to make sure you have enough space for yourself.

Except you don’t seem to be much for space, tonight.

You move so you’re half-hovering him, really just one arm over his chest and your face close to his. Xiao’s eyes widen at how sudden your movement is before relaxing. He wishes he’d read more books with flowery words. None that he can think of seems to be enough to describe how beautiful you look. He hums, tone inquisitive as he stares up at you, a finger moving against your cheek gently. “What were you doing to get so drunk?” he asks, voice a whisper.

You purse your lips in thought, before sighing. “The poetry event hosted by Liyue and Mondstadt. Venti was there and he somehow got me to drink with him…” you trail off with a sigh, “This feels like a set-up.”

Xiao’s brows furrow in confusion. “How so?”

“Because, it’s like he knows how I get when I’m drunk… I spent the whole time complaining about wanting to see you, and all he did was laugh.”

His eyes widen the more you speak. The idea of you talking about him to others, about missing him— It makes his heart flutter. He bites the inside of his lip, cheeks a bit warmer than before. “And you think he invited you to drink just so you could get like… this?” he asks hesitantly, to which you vigorously shake your head.

“No, he just wanted someone to drink with and be able to make fun of.” you grumble, “It’s all in good fun, I have plenty of things to mock him about during the times he gets too tipsy, too.”

Xiao raises his eyebrows, following your words idly. He is listening, really, he is. But the feeling in his chest is not going away and it’s clouding his mind. “You must’ve wanted to drink, too, then?” he says quietly, “I know you wouldn’t do it just to keep him company.”

“Mhm.” you hum, and it sounds so sleepy he thinks you might fall limp on his chest the second that follows. 

But no, instead, your face dips down into his neck and before he can say a thing he feels your mouth on his skin and his eyes are drifting close. It does not matter how many times he’s had the privilege to feel the touch of your lips on him. It doesn’t matter, because each and every single time, his heart stutters so much he feels like he might be dying— All whilst making all of his limbs relax so much they feel like jelly.

His lips part to exhale, head tilting back ever so slightly. The kisses you press to his neck are incredibly soft and somehow manage to make his skin burn with all that it makes him feel.

“What happened to sleeping?” he says, voice much too quiet and breathy to hide the effect you have on him. His hand moves to your back, tracing circles like he’s trying to calm himself more than you. “I don’t— Archons, I… I don’t recall this being sleeping.”

He doesn’t sound nervous, and he isn’t. He’s tripping over his words because you’re making his mind foggy. How is he expected to think when your lips are on the pulse point at his neck? No way.

You bite, lightly, and he makes a strangled noise.

It feels good.

“Are you complaining?” you ask. Your voice is a breathy whisper against the skin of his throat that makes shivers go down his spine. Xiao’s other hand is as tight as it can manage against the sheets covering his bed. He cannot tell if he’s more tense than ever or incredibly at ease. It’s always something in between, when it comes to this.

He looks down at you. “Not complaining.” he sighs softly, blinking, “You’re just a bit too affectionate when you’re drunk.” he breathes, eyes closing for a moment. He doesn’t think the Archons are on his side when it comes to answering prayers tonight, and he will have to rely on himself alone to not melt into a pathetic puddle of embarrassment at every single thing that you do.

“Am I?” you hum, moving up to face him. Your faces are close but he knows neither of you will make a move. Not now. Not in these circumstances. You just smile before chuckling and leaning down to lay your head on his chest. “Sorry.” you say quietly.

Xiao smiles softly, eyes drifting close again. He brings his hand to your head and rests it there. “It’s okay.” he whispers. Then he decides this isn’t enough, so he finds one of your hands atop his chest and intertwines his free one with yours.

He likes you when you’re affectionate. He loves it, even.

He likes you either way.

“Thank you.” you say, tilting your head so it lays on its side. Your gaze is set on nothing really and it’s clear you’re getting tired. “I mean it. For dealing with me.”

Xiao almost scoffs. You say it like it’s a chore. He’ll never mind taking care of you. He thinks it’s odd you would even think otherwise. Humans are odd. “You’re not that bad.” he replies, a tinge of laughter in his voice, “Don’t worry about it.”

The sound of wind chimes outside the window and the breeze over the leaves of the nearby trees seem to lull you to sleep, or maybe the sound of Xiao’s heartbeat does. He stays awake, eyes flitting towards the window every now and then.

He breathes out softly and turns to you, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep well. I’ll watch over you.”