#very messy again but i needed to get it out of my system

[imsofrancey]

they all need therapy also i love them all also they're just like me fr

[ms-demeanor]

Due to some stuff brought up in recent posts I believe it is time to once again extol the virtues of Ms-Demeanor's Patented Where Did I Put That Fucking Paper Organizational Binder.

Hello! I am a disorganized adult! This is the system by which I manage my important shit like pink slips for my car and medical records and tax information.

You're going to need:

A 3-Ring Binder

Transparent Sheet Protectors

Notebook dividers (optional but VERY useful)

A backpack (optional)

So the way this system works is you put the sheet protectors into the binder. You can either use the dividers to divide the binder into sections or you can label some of the sheet protectors to make different sections but what you are generally going to do is make sections of the binder labeled things like "taxes" or "vet" or "doctor" and put a few sheet protectors in each section.

Then all of your papers with important information get crammed in that folder. You don't organize them, you don't sort them by date, you don't alphabetize. You put things vaguely relating to taxes into the sheet protectors in the taxes section. You put things relating to cars in the cars section. You don't even attempt to make this readable - you're not using sheet protectors so that you can read each page and keep it legible, you're using sheet protectors because it's a cheap plastic bag that will sit nicely in a binder.

You CAN put stuff into the individual sheet protectors when you get it, but let's be realistic you probably WON'T do that, so just tuck individual papers into the front of the binder until you get to a critical mass of paperwork then take an hour to sit down and sort into categories and put it in the binder once every six months to three years (depending on how frequently you get paperwork). Sometimes these sections will outgrow their original allotted space - since my spouse had a transplant surgery the medical section has had to become its own folder - and that's okay. If you end up with multiple folders just keep them together (this is why the backpack is an option, and one I strongly recommend).

Because yeah, if my organization system relies on opening up a drawer and putting something where it belongs as soon as I get the paper, I will simply not be organized. It's not going to happen. But I can handle a messy stack of paper that sits in one place and grows until it is time to shove it into a binder. I can't organize things for thirty seconds a day every day but I can organize things for an hour once every year or so (maybe two hours every five years when I sort out stuff I don't need like copies of warranties for parts on a car I don't own anymore).

When my mom died she had about fifty pounds of paper files in her office that were neatly organized in a system that didn't make any sense to my dad, my sister, and I. I ended up sorting through those files for twenty hours, tossing out copies of paid invoices from ten years ago and student handbooks from my junior high school. I reduced one filing cabinet, two desk file drawers, and a foot-high stack to a six inch binder that I gave to my dad. My mom died five years ago; two months ago my dad asked me about a medical document and I was able to tell him to go look for it in the medical section of the binder. It was there, because ALL IMPORTANT SHIT GOES IN THE BINDER.

Where is my birth certificate? In the binder. Where is my tax return from 2017? In the binder. Where is the record of my dog's last rabies shot? In the binder. Where are the records for my life insurance? In the binder.

A lot of what people consider "being organized" breaks down to whether or not you can find the specific things that you're looking for. Does my binder look nice? Is it aesthetic? Does it have color-coded tabs and papers all laid out neatly? Absolutely fucking not. But if you ask me where to find a paper I know that I can do so within about five minutes of shuffling through the pile of letter-folded sheets that I pulled out of the appropriate section of the binder.

I've discussed the Where Did I Put that Fucking Paper Binder before, but now it is time to expand that concept to the Backpack of Important Shit.

You likely have Important Shit that does not fit in a binder. Some of my Important Shit that does not fit in a binder is stuff like jewelry and the spare key for my car. Other stuff - the reason I decided to bring this up at all - includes my backup hard drive and packaging (including product key codes) for pretty much all of the software that I own. This is also where I store printed out copies of the recovery codes for most of the online accounts that I have.

There's a lot of weird fiddly shit that we have to have that we might not access all that often. This is the kind of stuff that might end up in junk drawers or under sinks or in disused laptop bags or kicking around under a bunch of papers in a desk drawer.

It doesn't matter so much when that weird fiddly shit is a set of hex keys or a utility knife or a protractor or a copy of a student handbook but it DOES matter when it's something that you might need to put your hands on in a hurry. If your computer crashes, you're not going to want to track down the software in the back of a filing cabinet and the backup drive from somewhere in the bowels of your desk. If you lock your keys in your car you are not going to want to figure out if your spare is in a junk drawer or the old purse where you keep semi-important stuff or the tin on your desk that has buttons and pins and headphone covers. Just put it in the Backpack of Important Shit and when you need it you know where to look.

So anyway, if you are a person who is a minor disaster who has trouble finding important things when you need them please don't think that you have to get your life together and have a nice organized filing cabinet or clear plastic bins full of documents or a neatly divided storage closet where everything from board games to backup drives has its own neatly labeled place. Just assign ONE LOCATION for important shit and start putting the important shit there. It doesn't matter if you have a filing cabinet where you keep old copies of homework and printouts of online orders and family history records - you do not need to keep everything that is file-able in one place and depending on what level of catastrophe you are it might be detrimental to you if you try to do that. It doesn't matter if you have a jewelry box where you keep your collection of gauges and wrist cuffs; if you are going to stress out about where grandma's ring is when you're digging through your collection of cheap earrings and silver pendants then *do not keep grandma's ring or any other Important, Vital, Cannot Be Lost jewelry in with your day-to-day wear*.

I live someplace that has fires. My binder got upgraded to my Backpack of Important Shit when the fires were getting uncomfortably close to the house I was living in and I wanted to have one bag to grab if we had to get out fast. Once I did that, I never took the binder out of the backpack and the backpack has now made three moves with me and has meant that I've had my birth certificate handy when I needed it in the middle of a move between two states, I was able to provide a history of my cholesterol panel going back six years to a visiting nurse, and I was able to give the exact names and contact info of my spouse's previous surgeon to the hospital when I had unexpectedly moved to a new state with three bags and my work computer at the beginning of the pandemic.

Get yourself a backpack of important shit and a folder of where the fuck did i put that paper. It is so much easier to search a backpack for important shit than to go through an entire house and it is so much easier to flip through a binder than it is to dig through a filing cabinet.

Anyway good luck and happy adulting.

[leah-lover]

Built-up frustration. Mary earps × reader.

Smut 18+

Mary frustrated after a derby loss and she takes it out on reader.

Saying Mary is disappointed would be an understatement. After yet another Manchester derby loss, the whole team was disappointed. The team knew that Mary was always hard on herself and was gonna blame all the 3 goals that were scored on herself. So they weren't surprised when she directly went to the changing room after the final whistle blew. I on the other hand was more tired and numb than angry. Football had become a nightmare rather than a joy. Mark had been so very hard on us as of late. We were running ourselves through the ground trying to make up for losses, not disappointing our fans and ourselves. It was all too much, too much responsibility, too much to make up for, I just wanted to shut it all off. However, I had a team that counted on me. I was the captain, I had to be strong for all of them. 

After shaking hands with our rivals and doing media duties, I headed to the changing room, showered, and got dressed. Since Mary got there before me she changed, and was waiting for me to finish. 

We said our goodbyes to the girls and headed to our car.

We managed to stay silent throughout the whole car ride. Since our house was far away from the stadium, I put my head on Mary’s shoulder while she was driving. However, her hand didn't find its usual place on my thigh, it was placed on the center console. I didn't give it much attention deciding that she just needed her space for now.

When we arrived home, we went by our usual routine. Mary put our stuff away while I heated our dinner. Lost in my own mind, I didn't pay attention to the fact that Mary and I haven't spoken since before the game. I only realized that while eating my dinner that he had not touched any of .

“ Baby, talk to me.” I started while reaching out for her hand.

“There isn't much to say, “ she responded.

Her response shocked me. Yes, she was hard on herself but I have never seen her like this. 

“ Honey, please don't do this. I love you. You need to talk to me, you need to get these feelings out of your chest. You have been a prisoner to them for far too long.” I said, a small smile on my face. 

“ What do you want me to say? I am shit, a disappointment, I don't deserve you, I don't want to do this. Please just don't make me talk. Please.” She pleaded.

I then quickly got up, put her hand in mine and led her up to our bad room.

Once we got there, I let go of her hand and sat on our shared bed.

“ You always say that I am your good girl. Let me help you Mary.” I say as I undress myself starting from my shirt. 

“ I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best that I have ever seen. You need to get this out of your system so that you can love the game again.” I said as I sat completely naked.

With a helpless look on her face she said” I don't want to hurt you.” 

“ I am your good girl. I will take whatever you give me.” I responded.

And with that she launched me back on our bed. 

We quickly started kissing. The kiss was hungry, messy, and almost violent. We proceeded to make out for a while while her hand rubbed my side and traced all over my body.

“ Mary please, I need you so bad.” I pleaded.

She then ,while still making out with me, reached for the drore wear she kept her strap.

After undressing herself, she wore the harness. She unusually took the biggest strap she had which she rarely used. After the harness was secured she said with the raspiest voice. “ Now you are gonna be a good girl and show me how much you need me.” 

That was my que, I left the bed, got on my knees, and started to suck on her strap. It was too big for my mouth so I was stroking it slowly. Mary, not happy with my pace, grabbed the back of my head and started to thrust in my mouth roughly. Lost in her own thoughts, she continued to thrust even harder and deeper. I was about to tap out when she said “that’s a good girl, taking what I give her without any complaint, you deserve a reward my darling.” 

She then got out of my mouth, and helped me up the bed. 

Without warning she spread my legs and slid the tip of her strap in me. The feeling was supring and painful. However my arousal helped it fit right inside me.

Mary was on top of me thrusting harder and harder with each second. It's like she was fucking all her pain, shame and insecurity out of me. 

“ I need to come Mary please let me come.” I pleaded.

“ Hold on for me baby girl.” She replied while still thrusting harder.

After a little bit I couldn't hold on any more.

“ Baby please let me come please.” I pleaded with tears in my eyes.

“Okay, come for me darling.” She said,

I quickly held on to her shoulders as I came.

Mary’s consciousness seemingly came back to her, she got out of me, took off the harness, and held me.

" I am so sorry darling, I was hard on you. The strap was too big and I was too rough. I am so sorry.” She said as she held close to her chest.

“ It’s okay darling. I love you. Please never shut me off again.” I replied.

“ I am gonna go prepare a bath. I will be quick.” she said before leaving only to come back a few minutes later to carry me to the bath.

“ I will do anything for you baby.” I said as I nuzzled my head in her head.

“ That’s why you are my good girl. the girl that I love.” She replied.

[tarotbyopal]

What does your crush think of you?

Hello you gorgeous people! Thank you so much for being here! Are you ready for a new PAC reading?

🖤Piles: 1-2-3

🖤Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Calm your breath and remove all of the thoughts from your mind. When you try to focus on the reading at hand which number or image comes to mind? That is your pile

Would you like a reading?

🖤I currently have a sale on Ko-fi please check it out🖤

Pile 1 Your crush’s current energy

Judgement, ace of cups, 5 of wands in reverse, knight of wands

Your crush is currently going through a time of clarity/awakening. They are becoming aware of things that before they weren’t. It is likely that they are tired of pursuing relationships that aren’t working and that are hopeless. This person is likely to lose some friends soon and gain new ones. It is also likely that they will grow feelings towards someone new soon, so this is your chance to catch their eye. They are ready to let their emotions grow and lead their decisions. They don’t want to overthink, they want to follow their heart. They will be finding resolutions to things that may have been bothering them. Their energy just feels new and light. They are excited about things again. It feels like the sun is finally shining down on them again.

What your crush thinks of you

4 of wands, 2 of wands, hanged man, wheel of fortune

The two of you may be quite close to each other already and if that is the case pile 1, then know that this person thinks of you as their support system. You are likely to help them a lot when they doubt themselves and you are a constant in their lives. If the two of you aren’t close to each other yet then they feel like the two of you would get on really well, like you would just understand each other really well. They definitely see a future with you. Your crush can see the potential for the connection between the two of you to progress really quickly because they feel a very deep connection to you. However, everything seems to be at a standstill at the moment - it’s not yet the time for this connection to turn serious, the timing is not right, but it will be. They think of you as someone they were destined to meet and they want to see where things may go with you.You are the one that they want to fall in love with - it’s their fate.

What they want to tell you

The emperor, 9 of swords, 3 of pentacles, 3 of swords

Not yet, soon but not yet. Please forgive me but I need to gain control over my life first. Things are a bit messy and I am just now understanding things differently. I have been stressed and anxious about where my life is heading, so I am not in the right mental place to be able to love you. Please don’t take it the wrong way. Let me grow my fundations and then I will be able to amend my broken heart. I don’t want to be the one to put you in a tough position. Let me love you

Keywords: 333, past life, meant to be, destiny, control, anxiety, growth, clarity, dark hair, tall

Check out my kofi for more

Pile 2 Your crush’s current energy

King of wands, 10 of wands in reverse, 2 of cups, 4 of wands

I love your person’s energy! They are warm and buzzing with confidence and excitement over everything that they have going on in life, which by the way it’s a lot! They have soo much going on but they are making it work. When they want something they make time for it and they make it work. They do not want to hold onto burdens that don’t matter anymore. They are feeling bold and they are likely (now more than ever) to go after the things that they want - especially career wise and promotions wise. Your person is likely to have their own business or want to have their own business.They know what they want from life right now and they are basically ready to meet their soulmate or have them in their life. I don’t believe that the two of you know each other well right now but there could be a pull. Your person may also be looking at putting roots down for the first time ever, they want to have their happily ever after.

What your crush thinks of you

7 of cups in reverse, page of cups, king of wands, the world

They…don’t really know what to think of you to be honest pile 2. They haven’t decided, also because I feel like they have seen very different sides of you every time the two of you have met?! They think of you as someone who can either be easily influenced or who takes a while to make a decision. They are likely to assume that you are quite naive when it comes to love, or you love blindly and are likely to get hurt by the people that you9 choose to date. However, they also see beyond this and they know that both of you are very similar. You both have the same confidence and spark towards the things that you want to achieve, You are both extremely headstrong. They think of you as someone extremely special and unique. They want to get to know you more.

What they want to tell you

Destiny has been at a standstill for us (this pile is quite similar to pile 1 so if you felt a pull towards pile 1 definitely check it out!) Destiny has been at a standstill but things are slowly starting to move in our favor, for once. You have constantly sacrificed yourself for others but it’s time to stop the sacrifices. Surrender to our fate together. We are twin flames, can't you see it?! You feel like home, and I want to build a home with you. Let’s get matching slippers. 

Keywords: home, soft, innocence, 1010, 111, twin flame, luck, 2024, October, sacrifice, pink, high heels, comfort

Check out my kofi for more

Pile 3 Your crush’s current energy

Your crush has recently come out of a relationship or has recently had their heart broken. It is very likely that they are just not putting the pieces of their heart back together. They are overcoming their sorrow and pain, There is a lot of melancholy coming through as well and sad music. I feel like your person may be the type of person to music sad music when they are feeling sad and cry to it. Music is just very important to them. There is a lot of heaviness in their heart and energy but it’s coming to an end. This was expected of your person, they knew that things weren’t going the right way anymore. They knew it was coming to end and the energy feels new to an extent. I feel like even though they are heartbroken right now, they didn’t lose themselves and it won’t be long until this person is back to normal.

What your crush thinks of you

Knight of swords, 8 of cups, the world, the devil

Your crush thinks of you as someone who is very quick and witty with their words and opinions. They may see you as someone who is sassy as well and can hold a conversation with anyone. You may like to read or are extremely intelligent and it seems like you may read a lot. They think that you don’t withstand people badmouthing you and you are quick to protect yourself and those that you care about - you are extremely protective of others. With your strong adaptability skills you are able to get out of your comfort zone and this is something that your person really likes about you. They almost want you to drag them with you on your adventures. You are very worldly in your approach to romance, and extremely sexy. This person definitely has a huge crush on you already; they just aren’t in the right space for it.

What they want to tell you

4 of swords, ace of cups, 4 of cups, page of pentacles

 I need a break from love right now. I feel like I shouldn’t jump into a new relationship just yet, however I also can’t help myself when it comes to you. I don’t see myself being able to make the time in my heart right now to love again, but soon I will be ready and I hope you will still be here when I’m ready. I still want to learn so much about you, there is so much I don’t know. But you are absolutely gorgeous and enticing. Continue to be around me because I love your company.

Keywords: Darkness, heartbreak, pause, hope, learn, 1717, comfort zone, crush, sexy, ice cream, cotton candy

Check out my kofi for more

[winryrockbellwannabe]

✨ Getting my life together ✨

to be very honest, i've been feeling kinda awful this last couple of weeks, and i haven't been able to do anything but stress over exams and complain about my life. today this will end.

So here's a hopeful but realistic list of habit's I'll try to implement

🏋🏾‍♀️ 1: Im going to start working out again.

Not everyday at first, and i still have to understand if it works better for me to work out in the morning or at night. Ideally im going to rotate between: arms/abs workouts, youtube ballet classes (there's a youtuber that seems to have great adult ballet videos, and its a chill way for me to work out), and hopefully going on walks on fridays, since i have the morning off, when it's not raining.

🫗2 : Im going to do the dishes right after i use them

i dont even hate doing the dishes, i dont know how i accumulate so many shit. But i do, and then i have no clean dishes and that makes me not want to cook, and delay eating lunch and stuff like that. SO DO YOUR DISHES!!!

💊 3: im gonna go to the pharmacy to get my meds and actually take them

self explanatory, ive been super anxious about taking my adhd meds, since im going to try to take a more intense dose than im used to, and i was a bit scared bc of side effects but my friend has already calmed me down a bit about it

🖋️ 4. Im goint to try to post more regularly and journal more

4.1. Post more regularly

It helps me get excited and motivated about studying, so self explanatory

4.2. Journalling

Everything is being so weird rn. My friends are acting so weird, two of them are basically ignoring me, and other two are acting super shitty towards me and another friend. It's super messy, and we don't know why everyone is being off, so i think i need to let all this negativity out of my system and reflect about this, and see if i could also be in the wrong in this situation

🧹 5. Im going to be more organized, and try to keep my room tidied

💖 6. Im going to try to spend more time with people that actually recharge my energy, instead of people that just stress me more and make me more upset

📜 7. Im going to try new places to study, since my usual ones haven't been working as well for me

and there's more to go, but i don't want to be too optimistic, Im going to be happy if I actually manage to keep half of those for more than a week lol

[the-s1lly-corner]

Their ideal partners

Silly little hcs because ive been thinking what each of the lads look for in a s/o

Slenderman;

Given I'm aiming for the "he's been observing humans for centuries and has grown used to their antics," vibe with him, I feel like he'd like someone who keeps him guessing

Nothing TOO crazy, because he can be irritable, but if you intrigue him he'll definitely stay around

Does he have any peculiar icks? Tastes?

Can't stand messy people... doesn't mind if its unorganized, or a chaotic system, but if you live in muck it's a deal breaker

Doesn't care what you look like, or what gender you are; he sees beyond that because, again, ancient being that's been watching humans for a long time.. kinda desensitized to that sort of thing

Laughing Jack;

He WANTS someone who can match his energy; but he NEEDS someone who can mellow him out

As much as I hate the "I can fix/change him" thing (well I dont HATE it, it really matters on execution and all), Jack needs someone who can make him chill out a bit

Icks? You know those people who kill the energy in a room? Like total buzzkill + downers? He doesnt like those. Not like the "he hates depressed people" way, obviously, but in the way that

Okay so idk if this is just a me thing but I come across a lot of people who do it on purpose for attention/quirkiness, those are the kinds of people he doesnt like

Like slenderman, he doesnt really care what you look like; bros gonna slip himself around you like a snake (affectionately)

Eyeless Jack;

Right off the bat he needs someone who's understanding

It ain't easy being a cursed man who's forced to eat human meat

Someone who's willing to listen to what happened to him, and help him see the brighter side of things

Basically a "storm cloud x sunshine" ship dynamic

Icks? As long as you're not too chaotic or hyper he's fine with it; Jack is more quiet and reserved energy wise, stress tends to make the curses symptoms worse

Prefers short people; he himself is also short (I hc hes about 5'5), and he's a lil insecure, but he's not totally opposed to dating taller people

Masky;

Writing for specifically masky for this one instead of the usual tim, hope that's alright!! I just wanna flesh out him n hoodie more

Bro is kinda..... whouf... rough around the edges; kinda feral

Not like FERAL feral, but this is the kind of dude who tunnels on someone during his work and wont be afraid to body slam into stuff full speed/force

So naturally, he gets hurt a lot. So a caring and soft partner is an immediate go to; especially since in my hc/au tim still exists, just as a different.. persona? Headspace? I really dont know the correct terms <\3

He likes observing as well, but he'll occasionally join in on whatever activity you're doing!!

Icks? Loud people... I would say spontaneous people as well, but considering my take on him, he kinda falls into a softcore version of that category

Hoodie;

Very similar to masky, but also not... between the two hes more.. calm and calculating; whereas Masky tends to dive straight in, in most cases

Should not that neither of them verbally speak; so they both need a partner who's fine with physical touch since that's one of their main ways of communicating/showing affection

Especially with hoodie; dude always has a hand on you and guiding you in some way

Unlike all the others, hoodie does not have ANY preferences for partners. Doesn't matter the personality, body type, and he doesnt have many icks

Like

Probably doesnt like arrogance, kinda just annoys him.... but hey, makes his.. job.. easier

[writingsbychlo]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE (day five)

summary; after getting caught up in a certain tradition, you and az face the outcome on the other side.

word count; 11,036

notes; kick your feet and giggle fluff. you've been warned.

You watched carefully as the wax before you melted, hands joined and propped under your chin, watching as glittery black beads slowly began to pale, swirls of silver sparkling throughout like the night sky. Sitting beside you, signing addresses onto all of the cards you’d spent the morning writing together. 

The candle flickered, casting shadows across the room as the wax continued to soften, and Azriel pushed the final folded letter towards the pile you’d created. 

“Staring at that wax awful hard, you got a lot on your mind?” You could only hum, turning to face him and watching the sparkle in his eyes as the flame flickered behind you. The truth was quite the opposite. There was nothing on your mind. 

For what felt like the first time in a very, very long time, you were entirely at peace. No unmitigated anxieties or lingering problems, no stressful scenarios or job lists to be ticked off the following day. This morning, when you woke up once again tangled in Azriel’s arms, his face almost tucked into your neck, you were happy.

There had been a crumple from his pillow along his cheek that had lasted the entirety of your shared breakfast, his hair still messy even now, as a second hour passed and the unmade bedsheets had grown cold. You’d been waiting for an update on the storm situation, after dragging open the curtains only to find the glass entirely frosted over, stacked over halfway up with snow. 

The fire had been burning steadily since, the logs crackling as the room was flooded with warmth. 

“Wanna’ talk about it?” He raised a hand, brushing one knuckle over the back of your cheek, his brows dipping in confusion. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Az. I’m just happy.” A smile tugged at the edges of Azriel’s lips even if his brows dipped further. “I slept so well. I woke up, with no stress, no worries, just happy.”

“Shadowsinger, spymaster, dreamcatcher. It has quite a ring to it.” He murmured, your scoff breaking the quiet between you both, and it quickly descended into giggles. 

“I was thinking it was more this vacation, thank you very much.” Turning back to inspect the wax, it was just short of two hot, your lips pursing to blow out a thin stream of air to extinguish the candle, as he let out a pained moan, clutching his heart. 

“You mean it’s not my fantastic cuddling? I’m so offended.” Your eyes rolled, laying out a series of letters before yourself and scooping up the bowl, a small serving of molten wax dripping onto the paper before yourself. “Fine, since my services aren’t needed, I’ll sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“You do that. You snore anyway.” You passed the latter across to him, watching as he tugged free the ring from his thumb, a signet ring with his initial sitting firmly in the centre alongside the Night Court crest, a gift from Rhysand, so long ago. “Maybe now I’ll actually get some sleep.”

Stamping shut the first letter, he gasped, smothering his chuckle and accepting the second latter you sent his way, peeling the ring away carefully only to mark the next, a system forming between you both. “Oh, that’s how you want to play it?”

“I’m merely stating facts.” You both knew it was a lie, Azriel was as stealthy in his sleep as he was awake, snoozing so quietly beside you that you’d miss him in the dark, shrouded by his shadows for protection, if he wasn’t wrapped around you. He may be silent in his sleep, but he wasn’t still.

When he slept, you’d found Azriel would still hold you tight. If you moved, he moved, his body followed your own, seeking you out even subconsciously, keeping as much of you pressed to him as possible. Wandering hands, clinging touches, needy caresses. 

Azriel, the feared shadowsinger, was a sleep cuddler.

“Alright. Well, maybe I’ll actually get some sleep, without all your twitching. Did you know you move around when you sleep, you’re a vivid dreamer.” He shot back, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. 

“I know, I can’t help it, I have some pretty thrilling dreams about Cassian.” His jaw dropped, and you could see it out of the corner of your eye as you dripped wax onto the final letter, swirling it around into a perfect circle for him to stamp. As he took the letter, he snatched it with a huff, your victory only sitting stronger over him.

“Wait ‘til I tell Nesta.” His final comment was an unofficial surrender to the battle of wit, and he scowled at you as you glanced up, turning to face him in your chair. 

“Who says Nesta’s not in those dreams too? Maybe I need two, I’m a lot to handle.”

“Don’t I know it.” His voice was low, so low you almost missed it, innuendo laced through his words that you didn't quite understand, but you weren’t given much time to contemplate it. A knock at the door broke you from your thoughts, the sound bouncing around the inside of the room, and excitement spiked within your chest. 

The last knock had been merely to collect your breakfast dishes, a promise soon of an update on the weather conditions and your plans for the day, your feet flying cross the floor to receive it as Azriel followed closely behind. He all but crashed into your back as you paused at the door, swinging it open, to reveal Viv standing on the other side.

Pressing up behind you, Azriel’s heat flooded across your back, wings wrapping around you a little, and the woman glanced between you both, the smile on her lips only growing as she took you in. You felt underdressed somehow, even though she was in pyjamas just the same as your own, hair braided neatly over one shoulder, she still somehow managed to look regal, even in sweatpants. 

“We’re snowed in.” 

It was the exact news you’d been expecting, and yet as she truly confirmed it, your heart sank a little. The weather was always going to be unpredictable, at this time of year, in this Court especially, and yet with so little time here, you didn’t want to miss a single day. As if sensing your disappointment, Azriel ran his hand comfortingly down your spine, before settling it on your hip with a squeeze. 

Vivianne wrung her hands together, but never dropped her smile, only letting it become more conspiratorial. “Kal and I were thinking it would be fun to have a game day. Very informal, we can stay in our pyjamas and make snacks. Most of the staff will be out of the palace helping to clear the roads and pathways to the town, the palace is quite low on the priority list for that. Are you feeling up to it?”

“Can we make hot chocolate?” Azriel’s deep voice echoed from above you, a chuckle spilling from Vivianne’s lips, and you turned to look at him, brows raising, and he only shrugged as he looked down at you. “Don’t act like you didn’t know I have a sweet tooth, sugar.”

A blush flared over your cheeks at the nickname, and you rolled your eyes to cover its effect, turning back to your friend instead. “You had me at snacks, and apparently, had Azriel at hot chocolate. We’re in.”

“Fantastic.” Her hands clapped together, excitement clear as day. “Shall we meet at the base of the stairs in a couple of minutes, then?”

You agreed, the door closing a second later, and as you backed away from it, your body pressed into Azriel’s, forcing him to back up with you. As your body came up to his own, the hand on your hip slipped all the way around your waist, tugging you in a spin as he turned towards the bed, your feet leaving the floor, and a giggle leaving your lips. 

“Azriel! Put me down!”

Your toes nudged at the floor, scraping as you kicked, but he wasn’t letting go until he was throwing you down onto the bed, your body bouncing as he passed you by. You rolled across the still unmade sheets, scrabbling to get back at him, and he only grinned wickedly as he closed the door connecting your rooms in your face, holding the handle firmly against you on the other side. 

“Hey! You brute!”

“That was for teasing me before Vivianne came to the door. You wanna’ talk about Cass, I’ll treat you like Cass would.” Your cheeks flushed with heat, palm slapping against the door, but there was no stopping the laughter that spilled from your lips. Cassian had never been shy about his manhandling, whether it be throwing you and Nesta around in training, lifting you out of his way in the Townhouse’s narrow corridors, or simply throwing you over his shoulder when you were too drunk to stumble home from Rita’s. 

Backing away from the door and mumbling under your breath, his own muted laughter on the other side of the door faded away as you both prepared for the day. You straightened out your bedsheets from their crumpled positions, a hand smoothing across your oversized t-shirt on your way to the bathroom. 

By the time you’d finished washing your face and combing your hair, you found Azriel lounging on your bed, lay across it on his stomach, tapping his fingers in boredom as he waited. He’d changed his pyjamas, a new pair of black sweatpants and a matching black t-shirt, which hugged his shoulders unfairly tightly and was almost strained around the thick biceps on display.

“I just made that bed.”

“Oh, because beds can never be remade. How much money you must be wasting buying new sheets every single day.” He mumbled, sliding down to the floor and tugging pathetically on one corner to smooth out the wrinkles, and you scoffed through a laugh as you made your way over to get a pair of fluffy socks from the drawer. You’d only brought a few pairs, not expecting to ever actually wear them outside of the bedroom, and you dug around for the best pair as Azriel shuffled over to join you. “Can I borrow a pair of those?”

You glanced down at his feet, noting the grey socks he already wore. “You’ve got socks on.”

“Yeah, but these look cosier.” He snatched out a pair of pale blue ones, with sparkly thread throughout, and you snatched them right back before he could get too attached. “Hey! Sharing is caring.”

“You’ll stretch them out with your big fuckin’ feet! You’re already ruining a perfectly good t-shirt with your shoulders.” He dropped a look down at himself, flexing his chest and arms unnecessarily. 

“Thanks for noticing.”

“I was insulting you.” You spat back, tongue sticking out, and he only hummed.

“You have to be looking to have noticed anything to insult.” He tapped on the tip of your nose, and you turned away from him, hopping a little as you tugged each sock onto your feet, wiggling your toes and letting him balance you with a hand on each shoulder. When your feet were taken care of, you only had your arms to take care of now, not being gifted with the same resistance to the cold that Azriel was, and you swiped up a hoodie that was lying over the back of the couch. 

It was in your hands for barely two full seconds, before he was pulling it away. 

“That’s mine.”

“Wha- give it back! I’m cold.” He only shrugged, hanging it over his arm, and his eyes twinkled with unknown mischief as you spluttered. “You’re not even using it!”

“So? You’re not using the fluffy blue socks, and yet you won’t let me have those. If I must get frostbite, you get hypothermia.”

Your arms crossed over your chest, unwanting to give in, but you were stubborn. You’d set your heart on that jumper now, and when his cheeky smile grew, you were willing to give in just to stop it getting any wider. “Fine! You can wear the blue socks. I guess I’ll use them as a sleeping bag on my next mission away, when you’ve ruined them!”

He handed over the jumper with a beam, lifting it to your head and hanging it around your neck, before leaving you to do the arms as he retrieved the socks. After successfully shoving his feet into them and tucking them under the cuffs of his pants, he offered you his hand, wiggling his fingers at you and taking your palm. 

Tugging you along and out of the room, Vivianne and Kallias were already gathered at the bottom of the steps when you reached them. Viv was chatting excitedly, while Kal simply watched his wife, tucking a stray strand of white hair behind her ear before cutting her rambling off with a sweet kiss. 

Your heart clenched, and Azriel’s hand squeezed your own. Perhaps he felt the same way, the same happiness but sadness, the balance of adoration for your friends at finding one another, but longing for yourself. It would be nice to not feel so alone in those emotions.

Azriel rustled his wings, a subtle sound but loud enough to gain their attention, both of them pulling apart just to look up, smiling widely as they saw you. “Sorry, we got caught. Had to kiss, I’m afraid.”

Viv shrugged, and Kallias only chuckled, even as his pale cheeks grew pink, and you came to a stop before them, brows raising. “You got caught?”

“Under the mistletoe.” She said, like that cleared anything up, and she pointed over your heads, to the sparkly sprig of greenery hanging from the high archway. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you have weeds growing in your house.” Azriel supplied, and you waved a hand idly in the direction of his body, a soft ‘oof’ leaving him as you smacked his solid stomach, and he nudged you with your linked arms in return. “That wasn’t there last night.”

“It’s magic mistletoe,” Kallias added, the confusion only growing more, and you gasped as you watched it disappear from over your heads, fading away in a puff of glittering white. “It moved around all over the palace, we have several set up. I’m surprised you haven’t seen any yet.”

“I warded their rooms,” Vivianne explained, taking her husband’s hand much the same way Azriel held your own, guiding you along halls you had yet to venture down, leaving you and your companion to follow after her in confusion. 

“It's a tradition here in Winter.” Kal glanced over his shoulder, shrugging a little. “You hang mistletoe at Christmas, and if you get caught under it with someone, you have to kiss them.”

“But it’s just a poisonous plant?” Azriel spoke, and wanted to roll your eyes, swearing he wasn’t cut out for a life as a courtier, if it wasn’t for the pale-haired man’s laugh at his bluntness. Somehow, Azriel seemed to have won Kallias over, the two making for fast friends. 

“I know.”

“So, why? What's the story there?” You pressed a little more, curiosity biting in deep, and as Vivianne threw open a set of double doors to an impressive, empty kitchen, she spun to you with a smile. 

“How about I tell you all about it while we bake?”

She gathered pots and pans, various ingredients were produced which Kallias was quick to take from her hands, measuring the quantities himself and beginning to divide them up, as you gathered around the central island ready to hear the story. 

“It all started with the goddess of love, and her favourite child. He was the god of light.”

“Doesn’t it always start with a god, or love, or both?” Azriel mused, brushing his lips over your hairline to hide his amusement, your cheeks flushing as Viv only watched him, a gentler smile pulling on her features as he left a kiss on your hair. 

“She loved her son so much that she wanted to protect him against everything, so that he could never be harmed.” As Kallias handed her a bowl, and passed one to Azriel too, she began to tell you of the goddess, of the God of Sunlight’s adventures, his highs and lows that led him to need such protection. 

She spun a fascinating tale, you were so caught up in it that you could barely stir your own mixture, tipping the chocolate chips into the batter when it was ready without ever taking your eyes from her. 

“So, she spoke to every animal, and person, and plant. She made everything pledge to never harm him, to protect him at all costs, but she forgot pretty little mistletoe.” She tutted, your heart beating and hand stilling in the bowl as the true excitement of her folklore tale began. Azriel took the bowl, from you, pulling it closer to himself to keep the work going, and you only leaned closer to his side in silent thanks as you continued to listen. 

“So mistletoe killed him because it was forgotten?”

“A trickster killed him.” She corrected, wagging a finger at you for your impatience. “One of the tricksters realised her mistake, and fashioned an arrow out of mistletoe. That arrow was shot straight into his heart, and he died.”

“But why did the trickster do it?”

“Why do tricksters do anything?” To cause chaos. The Night Court had much mythology of its own, regarding tricksters and demons and things that go ‘bump’ in the night, all revolving around making sure children behaved. 

This story was shaping up to have a far more romantic notion. 

She took a break there, leaving you to hang in suspense as the four of you worked to divide gather and shape up cookies, fling tray after tray in the oven until you had more snacks than you’d possibly be able to eat. She was loading pots into the sink for later, Kallias setting a timer on the ovens, and Azriel was leaning back against the counter. 

Tugging you closer to him, his arms banded around your body as your back met his chest, his chin propping on the top of your head as he spoke; “So, how does any of that make a tradition about kissing?”

You let out a steady breath at his question, the cliffhanger you’d been left on finally coming to an end, and you settled your arms atop his as you leaned back into him, both eager to hear the rest of the story. 

“The goddess was distraught, her favourite child had died. But she was a goddess of love, she did not seek revenge. Instead, she cried to the mistletoe, and her tears made white berries grow. When her son died, he took the sunlight with him, and so came the long days of Winter. He died at what you call Winter solstice, and what we call Christmas.”

Kallias joined the pair of you, slinging an arm around her waist. You felt like a child as she spoke of all the changes, of the way mistletoe began to grow, of the goddess seeking out every last shoot of it.

“She enchanted that too, to be the strongest love of all, that anybody caught underneath it should embrace one another in love, not anger or pain. Even enemies on the battlefield would put down their weapons and embrace, and call a truce for that day.”

“Cassian will be thrilled, we’ll buy him enough for a farm, and he can kiss all of our foes into submission.” Your joke brought laughter from them all, but the deep laughter by your ear was the one that left you breathless, a warm puff of air over your cheek. It terrified you, feeling so comfortable in his embrace, it made you want to run, and yet, it also made you want to stay. Hearing a tale of love, wrapped in his arms, leaving you breathless and your heart racing.

“After that, it became a symbol of love. New relationships would share their first kiss underneath it, for good luck. Married couples,” She gave a glance at her husband, who only placed his lips on her forehead in response, “kiss under it to maintain a happy marriage. Parents kiss their newborns to show them their love. It is tradition. You can never be angry under the mistletoe, and you must always show your love.”

“Perhaps we should take some home with us, let Elain grow it. It would make such a lovely addition to Solstice.” 

Azriel only hummed in agreement, clearly contemplating it, and your reverie was broken by the first of the timers going off. The smell of sugar and baked goods filled the air as soon as the door was open, steam pouring out as Kallias’ gloved hand retrieved the first tray, perfectly baked cookies steaming on the metal sheet. 

Together, the four of you worked, scooping up treats from trays to plates, icing and decorating as they cooled, hot chocolate being made, dishes washed, and the kitchen cleaned, until you were all ready to go for your game day.

You gathered the last of the gingerbread cookies, piling them up onto a plate with your poorly decorated chocolate chip cookies and some pastries, Kallias took the large platter from your hands. As you stared at it, it became more and more obvious why none of your career paths had veered towards baking. It was a sad attempt, but it was fun nonetheless, and as long as they were edible, you’d have fun.

Kallias led the way with the food, Viv following quickly after him as she attempted to snatch a cookie from the tray as he swept it out of her reach, the two bickering as they walked. Turning to your best friend, a laugh bubbled up in your throat when your gaze landed on him. 

“What?”

“You’ve got icing on your face.” 

He dipped his head, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder, utterly failing to get the smudge of blue icing from his skin. He rubbed again upon seeing your lips pinch to hide a smile, failing again, and your eyes rolled fondly. 

Reaching up to him, your hand sat on his jaw, one thumb swiping over his skin to clear it away, the back of your pointer catching any last smears, and he smiled softly, letting you work. When you pulled your hand away, he had a tissue ready, wiping your finger clean and tossing the ball into the trash. 

“Ready to kick some ass at board games?”

“Az, I was born for this.” Your serious look made him laugh, head tipping back, hand settling comfortably on your lower back as he began to guide you through the halls. The palace was huge, far too big for you to properly learn your way around after only five days, but this route was one you were beginning to know well. Following the joyous chatter of Kallias and Vivianne until the light of the sitting area was spilling out, you let their voices guide you, Azriel’s hand never leaving your back. 

As you rounded the doorway, Vivianne held up her hands, eyes wide and arms extended, a yell on her lips that brought you crashing to a half, Azriel slamming into your back and both of you almost tumbling over. 

“What?” You burst, eyes scanning the immediate area for danger, guard flying back up from where you’d let it slip over the last few days. When you found nothing, you looked back to her, but instead of finding fear, you saw the excitement on her face.

“Look up!” She beamed, your heart thudding nervously in your chest and your eyes slowly travelling up, head tipping back to examine the doorframe above you. Hanging there above your heads was a green sprig of mistletoe, one you know wasn’t there before, and both Kallias and Viv stared innocently with smiles on their faces. Viv’s was wider, Kallias’ was merely indulging, adoring of his wife, and you knew she was behind this. 

Your heart gave another hard thud as you watched Azriel observe it from the corner of your eye. A soft laugh spilt from your lips as you turned to face him fully, his sweet smile setting a wave of reassurance spreading through your chest, and his brows raised a little. His shadows were beginning to swirl up a little higher, over his shoulders and around his head, a tell that he was nervous, and he gave a small shrug. 

“S’okay. It’s just a tradition, right?” Your heart ached a little in your chest at the tone of his voice, something self-loathing and worried in there, just loud enough for you to make out, private from your audience. You refused to believe that after these nights of cuddling, these near-miss moments and the feeling of waking up in his arms, that Azriel didn’t know how you felt. The inkling of doubt in your chest was quickly quashed when you made your decision.

Stepping closer, close enough to throw your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to a more even height, Azriel’s hands steadied you at your waist as his eyes widened a fraction, lips parting in shock. 

“It’s not just for the tradition, Az.” You whispered, before pressing your lips against his own, anxiety thrumming through your body like electric currents, fear taking over every nerve. His hands on your hips tightened, frozen still for just a second, before he was melting against you. Tugging you closer, his hands smoothed around to your lower back instead, a low sound leaving him, muffled between your mouths as he returned your fragile kiss. 

His lips were soft, so much softer than you’d expected, giving and taking as his nose bumped clumsily against your own, learning something entirely new between yourselves. He caught on quickly, though, pulling back barely an inch to take a breath, before twisting his head to the side, and letting his lips find your own once again. Rocking you back to lean over you, your feet sunk to the floor comfortably. 

As the nervousness died away, a smile formed on your lips, despite their current occupation with his own. Filled with burning love and utter devotion, your heart gave one final, steady beat, before something jolted, snapping like an anchor to the ocean floor or a rock through ice, grounding you to the moment with such force that you pulled back with a gasp. 

Emotions that weren’t your own came flooding in, a mirror image of something else, and when your gaze fluttered up to Azriel’s, he only smiled, brushing his thumb over your face, and staring at you like you’d hung the very moon in the sky. 

You knew what that feeling was, you’d waited all your life for it, and apparently, it was no shock to Azriel as he pushed another wave of affection down it towards you. Flicking a glance over to Viv and Kal, Azriel seemed to take the hint, the smile never leaving his face as he let you go. To be discussed later, when you were alone. This was not a moment for anyone else. 

With a final kiss left on your cheek, he stepped back, your cheeks burned hot, shock and surprise now all you could feel, and everything else felt numb. Everything except for where Azriel laced his fingers with your own, much more competent and stable as he tugged you along and into the living room, to the set up of board games and snacks. 

Sinking down onto the floor on one side of the large coffee table, cushions had been laid out, and Azriel took a seta net to you, wings comfortably spreading out across the floor behind him as Vivianne and Kal sat down opposite you. Pulling out the first board game, your hostess jumped into an explanation of it, but your mind was still spinning, utterly disconnected from the moment and in shock as you tried to put it aside. 

Mate.

It was like the word was bouncing around the inside of your skull, every heartbeat sending another echo of it to follow. A bloom of amusement inside your chest, a follow emotion that felt like smoke you could wave your hand through, not tangible like your own, and you’d have to get used to the feeling of… him.

His hand reached out, settling over your thigh and squeezing in gentle comfort, never taking his eyes off of Vivianne as she laid out all the pieces and explained the rules. Staring down at the large, scarred limb sitting so comfortably on your leg, nothing about it felt wrong. Azriel had always been affectionate with you, but openly showing a new level of intimacy, you’d have expected at least some level of weirdness, a period of adjustment. 

But nothing.

Reaching out carefully, you traced a finger over the back of his knuckles, before slipping the hand down and underneath his own, his fingers widening to link with yours. When your hands were laced together fully, he did turn to look at you, raising your hand to his face and pressing a kiss to the back of it, another one to your temple, before turning his attention back to the game. 

It was so simple, so settled, so right. 

Your mind, at last, went silent, because it was like the final puzzle piece had fallen into place, and at last, you could see the whole picture.

Azriel had opted to take a shower as you’d come back to the room, leaving you alone to your thoughts for the first time since your kiss, and they were drowning you. If you paced anymore, you were sure you were going to burn a hole right through the floor and fall throughout the palace.

There was obviously a conversation to be had, there was a bond sitting between your chests, one you were trying very hard not to let be tainted with your anxieties, and yet Azriel’s side was suspiciously quiet. You’d expected more from him, if he truly did already know about the bond between you both, and he was as happy as you believed him to be based on his actions, then why was it so silent?

Finally coming to a stop in front of the fireplace, you stared into the flames, listening to the logs crackle and pop as they burned, trying not to let your worries and insecurities build up once again. Time slipped away from you, the room around you melted into nothing, everything becoming a blur as you got lost in your head, only snapping back into focus at the soft clearing of a throat behind you for attention. 

Leaning on the doorway connecting your two rooms was Azriel - your mate, it seemed - his arms crossed over his chest and eyes raised. His hair was still damp, curling a little at the tips that needed trimming, his shadows swirling despite his calm demeanour, mirroring the worry you felt inside visibly. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded far too quickly, a high-pitched hum leaving you, and instead of pacing, your hands now began to fidget in front of your body. He fixed you with a look, one that suggested he didn’t believe you even slightly, and he’d have been able to tell that even without the bond connecting you both. Holding out his hands at hip height and waving his fingers, he silently beckoned you forwards, as if to prompt you. ‘Come here and prove it’, the action said.

Like a magnet, you were drawn towards him, stumbling across the room until his hands were on you once again, a sigh slipping from your lips as he tugged you into his body. The shadows over his head began to clear, until only a couple remained, hanging in thin air near the doorframe in the shape of mistletoe branches and leaves, and despite all your raging emotions, a smile was pulled from you at the notion. 

You were blasting all kinds of nerves, the bond between your bodies all but vibrating as you looked back to him, pink cheeks and a sweet smile, waiting for your response. A wave of comfort came to you, enveloping all that sickening fear and replacing it with adoring warmth, only confirming that he did know it was there, connecting both of your hearts. 

A small, breathless laugh left you at the feeling. You’d have to get used to that. With the sound, he sent another pulse of love, one so deep and unending your knees almost went weak, almost letting you tumble to the ground. Perhaps this was why you’d felt nothing from him, why nothing felt any different. 

This wasn’t new, you’d always felt a connection to Azriel that you couldn't explain, but never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you’d be lucky enough to be his mate. Instead of a sudden snap, or a surprise click, this had been a slow-forming thing, burning hot and bright within you both since the day you’d met, and building up one thread at a time. Unnoticeable as it grew, until it was too strong to ever be broken. 

You’d always been able to read him so well, and he’d known you like he could read your mind. Turns out, it was your heart he could read instead.

Wrapping your arms around his neck once again, he hauled you up against him, supporting your weight as he lifted you onto the tips of your toes, and met you halfway to the kiss. 

Just like before, it was shy and tentative, a new step in your relationship that had to be learnt, and you took it slow. Your mouth moved cautiously against his own, memorising every drag, every feeling of his soft sighs and the sweet sounds he made. It was intoxicating to be so close to him, to indulge in something you’d only ever dreamed of, and for it to feel so normal.

Like you were always meant to be right here, your lips moulded to Azriel’s and hearts beating as one. Nothing had ever compared to this, and nothing ever would. 

Nervous kisses melted away into curiosity. What had once been delicate, his hands sitting steady on your waist, soft presses of his mouth to your own, smiles and bumps as you twisted and learned became smoother. His fingers danced up your spine now to cup the back of your head, your fingers lacing into his hair, and he held you where he wanted you, each kiss getting longer, deeper, lips parting further as you grew bolder. 

Scratching your nails lightly over his scalp, Azriel gave a soft moan, the sound making your head spin and lips part. Given the chance, he sucked your lower lip gently, until you were so dizzy with the feeling that he was all that was holding you up. Twisting you around, your back pressed into the doorframe as he towered over you, one, ragged breath taken before his lips were crashing back down into your own, and it was your turn to moan. 

His tongue slipped between your parted lips, stroking slowly over your own, sensual in a way that made you breathless, letting him suck the air from your very lungs as you tasted him for the first time. It was addictive, the feel of him on you, the taste of him in your mouth, something you never wanted to forget, and never wanted to let go. 

His body was firm against your own, heart beginning to beat faster and faster once again in response to your own as something much fierier began to unfurl in your chest, flames burning hotter and higher together. Dragging his mouth from your own, you were left panting, his lips glistening and eyes dark as he pulled back to take you in, staring as though he’d never seen anything like you before. 

You couldn't take it, the intensity of his love, of his passion, it was too much, and if you were going to have any self-control at all, you had to act. You pulled him back down, until your lips could brush across his lips again in a kiss only designed to be a peck. By the time he was reciprocating, you were moving on, a kiss to his cheek, to his jaw, to his chin, anywhere you could reach, until the heat died down, and a laugh left his lips when you blew air over the ticklish spot below his ear. 

“So, that’s new.” You whisper, placing a kiss on that spot before sinking back down, letting him keep you crowded into the frame, but with your foreheads resting together, eyes closed. 

“Only physically.” He mumbled back, hand sliding away from your hair and down your arm, to link your fingers together instead. “I’ve been kissing you in my dreams for a long time now.”

“That was so cheesy.”

“Get used to it.” His laughter was laced into his tone, and your eyes rolled behind closed lids, but the smile never faded. “You’re the best gift I could have ever asked for.”

At that, your eyes snapped open, the excited gasp on your lips making him follow suit, pulling back to stare curiously. “I got you some really good gifts under the tree. I mean, maybe not as good as a mating bond, but, pretty good.”

Your heart clenched in your chest at the look on his face, slipping out from under him and tugging him by your connected hands toward the couches, to which he happily followed. As you gathered the gifts, he winnowed out, returning minutes later with hot chocolates and a bag in hand, and making his way back over to your side. Sinking onto the carpet in front of the fireplace instead, you left him with a single, deep kiss in thanks, before retrieving the mug from his hands, and blowing carefully at the steam.

Marshmallows bobbed across the surface as he took a seat before you, tucked underneath one wing and pressing up to your side. Placing the bag into your lap, you found the remnants of today’s gingerbread cookies, the ones that had been your absolute favourite all day. Your head snapped up, lips parting to ask how he knew, before feeling the tug in your chest at the bond, and your lips closed once again, your answer found. 

As he sipped at his hot chocolate, you paced your own to the side, taking his cheeks in your hands and pulling him close enough to leave a kiss on his lips, his eyes sparkling when you pulled back. 

“What was that for?”

“Just for being you.” For being mine, you added mentally, and warmth rose to his cheeks, painting them a pretty pink in response. Dragging the two stockings across the carpet toward you first, you placed one into his lap, and he discarded his own hot chocolate to take it, watching you do the same. “Open the small ones first.”

He tipped it upside down, sending several small packages tumbling out across the floor, and he lined them up neatly, before picking up the smallest first. Slipping his thumb underneath the wrapping, you watched excitedly as he opened it up, a small box tumbling out. Picking it up, he turned to face you with a smirk, running his thumb over the velvet of it. “A ring box? Baby, it’s been hours since you gave me our first kiss, little soon, no?”

“Oh, shut up.” You blushed, slapping at his arm as he laughed. “I didn’t know when I bought this. Besides, wrong finger.”

Opening it up, sterling silver shone up and caught the light, showing off the engravings inside of snowflakes and Winter Court symbols, as well as the dates of your trip carved onto the inside. Lifting it out, he admired it for a second, before slipping it down onto an unoccupied pinkie, and holding it up to see. “How’d you get it so perfect on the sizing?”

“Sometimes I steal your pinkie ones to wear on my thumbs, so I knew one of mine would fit in reverse.” his gaze moved from his finger to you, lips rolling together to conceal a smile, and just before his mouth opened, the feeling racing down the bond warned you of the kind of comment that was coming. 

“If you wanted me to give you a ring, you shoulda’ just asked.”

“Yes, every girl’s dream is to ask for a proposal.” You scoffed, leaning away from him only to be met with the resistance of his wing, snapping against your back to send you tumbling back into his side. 

“Fine. When the time comes, I’ll surprise you with it, then. Catch you off-guard. But don’t complain now if your engagement memories are all of you in sweatpants or pyjamas. Or better yet, nothing at all.” Licking over his lower lip, he winked, and you groaned, burying your head in your hands, only to enhance his amusement. He reached across you, plucking up one of the gifts from inside your stocking, and balancing it on your knees, before tugging your hands away. “C’mon, you open this one.”

It was in different wrapping paper to all the rest as you scooped it up, and he scratched the back of his neck, smile dimming from amused to shy. “I got you this back home, I was planning to give it to you here anyway.”

You offered a silent oh. Turning back to the small package and tearing it open gently, and allowing a small, woven strand to fall out. About the length of your hand, woven together were blue, silver and black threads, a gem sitting in the middle that was awfully similar to one of Azriel’s siphons, a few silver charms laced throughout it. Tracing your thumb over them, you identified each one. 

A dagger, a heart, a crescent moon, a star, and a wing. 

“What is it?” You were breathless as you admired it, a perfect representation of Azriel, and he took it from your hands carefully. 

“It's… a bracelet. Gwyn likes to make them. I saw her wearing one at training one day and she told me about them. I made it for you. You’re all I ever think about, so, maybe it was selfish, but I wanted you to have something that made you think of me. I wanted you to have something that would make me come to mind when you saw it. You don’t have to wear it, but-”

“What are you talking about?” Thrusting your arm out before him, a sense of relief filled you inside, and his face softened to match the emotion. “Put it on me right now, and when we get home, I’ll have it enchanted to last. I don’t want to take it off, ever.”

“Well, that’s just a little dramatic.” He teased, but did as you said, latching it carefully onto your wrist and tying it tight so it wouldn't slip off by mistake. “You really like it?”

“Like it? Azriel, I love it.” You traced your finger carefully over the woven strands, the silver one showing a little glitter as you examined it even closer, and your cheeks started to hurt from how much smiling you were doing. “For the record, though, you don’t need to give me any gifts or jewellery to be on my mind. You’re living there rent-free already.”

He didn’t reply, turning away to hide the look on his face by selecting another gift instead. 

On and on you went, exchanging gifts and stealing kisses between them, moving through the piles as you opened everything you’d found for one another since arriving. 

You gave him some mystery books, a couple of new notepads and pens, and some various creams and potions. Also on his pile were the enchanted gloves, designed to keep his hands warm, a new dagger sheath with his initials printed in, and a first-aid kit that could fold up small and fit into his bags for missions. Lastly, were a few fidget toys you’d found, his shadows being the true recipients for those, and they were already busily occupying themselves with their new toys, leaving their master to a little peace and quiet. 

That particular gift has been such a hit that Azriel had practically dived atop you, his lips meeting your own as your back met the carpet, giggles swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you passionately enough to convey his thanks. 

His gifts for you included some romance books that he said came highly recommended, accompanying the statement with a smirk. Also in your pile was a new, handmade scarf, with bright colours and soft fabric that you couldn't wait to wear. A bookmark, a couple of candles, and a pair of earrings designed to look like the falling petals of your favourite flower.

He’d received equally passionate kisses for each of those, time melting away around you each time you fell into him. By the time you were finished, you were surrounded by piles of gifts, and bundles of discarded wrapping paper. Empty mugs, an abandoned bag of crumbs as you’d finished the cookies between you, the fire dying down to embers, sorely in need of new logs but utterly neglected as you’d kept one another warm all evening instead. 

“Should we tidy up a little?”

“‘Suppose so.” The words were mumbled into your hair as Azriel continued to nuzzle there, holding you curled against his chest as you laughed. Pushing yourself up onto legs that had gone numb long ago, he groaned, holding out his hands to you and letting you tug all that heavy Illyrian muscle to its feet, before stretching out and shaking his wings into action. “I’ll put the gifts away in our cases if you handle the other stuff?”

“Sounds like a deal.” You dropped down, scooping up the bundles of wrapping paper into your arms, crunching them tightly into balls as Azriel gathered up all of your gifts first, carrying them over to the bed and pulling out the case you’d stashed underneath. They took up half the space just as you watched him begin to stack things inside, a problem considering you had the rest of your belongings still to go back in there in a few days, but you’d have to figure it out. Maybe he had spare room in his. 

You eyed the pile of gifts you’d given him. Probably no spare room there, either.

Tossing the bundles of paper into the fireplace, the flames rapidly began to grow back to life, and you poked in the ashes to revive a little more heat, adding a few more logs and some coals to make it through the night. Gathering his gifts, he took them away to his room, leaving to clear up the mugs and wrappers, and drag the coffee table back into place. 

Just like that, the last few hours had all been cleared away, your room restored to its satisfying tidiness. You sensed Azriel before you saw him, every cell in your body reacting as he walked back into the room, making his way over to you, and letting you turn to face him just as he reached for you. 

Falling into his touch felt like home, his arms banding around your body as you cupped his face, smiling up at him as you took him all in. “Wow,” Running your fingers over his cheekbones, you shook your head in disbelief. “Wow, you’re mine?”

Silver lined his wide eyes, and he sucked gently on his lower lip as he nodded. “And you’re mine, my love.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the new pet-name, and you hoped you never heard yourself be referred to anything else from him ever again, because Azriel’s love was all you ever wanted to be known as now.

It was agonisingly slow, the pull and take, the give of his lips as they moulded to your own, bodies pressing further and hands grabbing, until the place where you ended and he began became blurred. Your hands were in his hair, familiarising yourself with the softness of the stands, the way he’d hum against your lips when you tugged on the strands, the way his hands would tighten on your hips. 

Teasing his tongue along the seam of your lips, you parted them, waiting for more, but he chose that moment to tease. Instead of diving further, he pulled back, lips grazing along your jaw as he dipped you backwards, head hanging on your shoulders as he kissed his way to your neck. 

“Az…” The words were breathy on your lips, his answering groan reverberating along your skin, sucking some of the skin between his lips until it stung and you gasped, his tongue soothing over the patch a second later. “Azriel…”

“Don’t say my name like that, it’s driving me crazy.” Tugging your hips flush to his own, your whimper was barely contained by his mouth sealing back over your own. More urgent now, he took that opening, tongue plunging into your mouth and coaxing your own to play, hot and frenzied as he took control. Another moan slipped through, one that had his hips jerking against your own as he gave a soft grunt in response. 

“You taste like peppermint, Az.”

“You taste like gingerbread.” He returned, biting lightly on your lower lip in response, and your mind swirled in response to the teasing nip. “I think it just became my new favourite treat.”

Sliding your hands down from his hair to his chest, you pressed lightly, pushing him backwards. He stumbled away, eyes snapping wide and hands leaving your body, fear of crossing a line, and you smirked at his misunderstanding. Backing him up, you followed his steps, until his legs were pressing to the edge of your bed, and he was falling back to sit. His confusion became a grin as you crawled into his lap, a leg caging either side of his hips, and his large, calloused hands slid up your thighs slowly. 

Your lips slammed back into his own, Azriel’s moan in your mouth tasted like honey on your tongue as you reunited once again. It was preposterous, to think you’d known Azriel for so long and hadn't been doing this the whole time, to think that you hadn't spent every moment of every day kissing him. The bond between your bodies was pulling taut, shaking with glee and glowing so bright it could light up the night sky. 

You could feel it within you, all but singing with anticipation, and you rocked your hips into his own. That one, small movement had you both falling apart, wanton spills of needy sounds leaving you as you repeated it, again and again, riding him through layers of clothes as your kisses grew messier. His hands took over, slipping over your hips to sit on your ass and squeeze roughly, rocking you down against him perfectly until your eyes were rolling in your head, the perfect friction pressing into you. 

Your hands skated around his body, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his lungs under your hands, until your fingers were running down the seam of buttons under one wing on his back. 

“Fuck, Az…” Your whimper only made him growl, picking up his intensity, biceps flexing through the sleeves of his t-shirt as he used you like a toy against his body. Your foreheads were pressed together, lips barely brushing with every pant for breath and your gaze moved down to watch the place that you were rocking together as your fingers fumbled with the catches. 

Your panties were sodden now, likely dripping through, and you were sure that you were starting to spot a wet patch growing on his sweats from your movements as you undid the seals behind his back. As soon as they came loose, you were pulling back, motions stopping for a torturous moment as you tugged his t-shirt up and over his head now that they were free of his wings, having to raise on your knees to get it off his arms. 

As soon as it was free, you were tossing it away, his hands returning to your body and he slammed you back down against his clothed erection, a cry spilling from your lips at the act. 

“Oh, gods, you feel so good already.” His head fell forwards, forehead sitting on your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin as he bit down to hide his desperate sounds. Your fingers traced over his shoulders, tattoos you’d seen a thousand times before but you’d never had an excuse to touch. So many promises, so many bargains, you wondered how many of them belonged to you. 

Over the centuries, Azriel had made many promises to you, and as if reading your mind, his head lifted. Taking your hand, he dragged your touch down from his shoulder to sit over his heart, various swirling patterns that would blend into the rest at a distance, and your fingertips twitched over his skin. 

“Your promises sit right here, every mark you’ve ever left on me has been on my heart, inside and out.”

“Oh, Azriel.” His hand sealed over the top of yours, your rocking slowing to a stop as your other hand cupped his face, breaking through the heavy lust for a breath of fresh air. He leaned up, nose bumping your own, smiles that made it impossible to kiss as you shared the same breath. “I can’t believe it.”

“You never even suspected it?”

“I never considered myself your equal, it didn’t seem possible.” Your power was nothing compared to his, your skill and stealth the same, and he gave an empty laugh, stealing a kiss from your lips despite it.

“You’re worth so much more than I am.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You scoffed, peppering his cheeks with kisses to banish his self-deprecating thoughts, and you felt the stretch beneath your lips, a tell of a smile. Sitting back you tugged your shirt up and over your head, breasts spilling free before his eyes, and he licked his lips, fighting to keep his gaze on yours. “You can look, Az. I’m yours to look at.”

“If I look, I’m going to lose every last shred of self-control I have.”

“So lose control.” Your smirk was back, leaning in to brush your lips together and taking his hand from his own heart, bringing it to sit in the centre of your chest above your own. “Every beat is for you, Azriel. I never let myself think about it, because it would have crushed me to know I wasn’t yours. I was preparing myself for the eventuality that one day you’d find them. Someone incredible, someone who is your equal, in power and skill and every way that matters.”

“You may not be as strong as I am.” He mumbled, standing from the bed with you in his arms, like you weighed nothing at all as he kept your legs tight to his waist and twisted you to the bed. “But that is because you’re not Illyrian.”

He crawled up and over you, balancing his weight on his knees and palms as he caged you in. Reaching over his shoulders, you dragged one finger along the ridges of his wings, watching his face screw up and jaw drop open as you toyed with his most Illyrian trait. 

“You may not have as much stealth as I do, but that is only because you don’t control the shadows to hide in.”

You never noticed the shadows snaking up your legs, the dark tendrils helping him to lift your hips, and he eased your leggings and panties down your legs, your thighs clamping shut with a sudden wave of anxiety as he dropped the material to the ground, leaving you bare before him, tracing his hands up your calves again. 

“You may not have my power,” His hands closed over your knees, forcing your legs back apart for him to settle between, and a flush of heat left a blush over your body at his strength. “But that is because your skills lay elsewhere, my love.”

“Oh, yeah?” There wasn’t nearly as much sass as you intended, and he only nodded, dipping down to leave kisses on your inner thighs, groaning the closer he got to your dripping centre. 

“Yes, darling.” Circling one finger at your entrance, your head fell back, a cry of his name as he sank that finger deep into you, biting down on the inside of your thigh as he slid into you easily. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“A result of another of your skills.” You huffed out, back arching as he crooked his finger, teasing you for your comment and pumping that lone digit. 

“You are sweet, and friendly, and the best courtier I’ve ever seen.” He picked up speed, your fingers clenching in the sheets, dragging at them as you clawed for strength, for anything to hold onto. “I may have brute strength in a physical fight, but I have never seen anybody win an argument like you, to win a battle of wit.”

“So, I’m the best at being bitchy? Gee, tha- ahh! Azriel!” Your sarcasm was cut short by one finger becoming two, a slam into you as your eyes rolled back, and he chuckled at the pathetic serious of whimpers you let out when he began to stretch you out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“You’re also the best at winding me up, nobody gets under my skin quite like you do.” Your body was trembling, teetering on the brink of ecstasy as his fingers continued to seek out and abuse the spot inside of you that made you cry out. “But despite those shining qualities, they are not my favourites. Your heart is equal to mine; you love fiercely, you care deeply, you are loyal and kind and true. You are brave and strong of spirit, and you never give up.”

Slipping his thumb up to your clit, your back arched clean off the bed, a few sloppy circles had your mind shattering as you exploded into bliss. His voice soothing you through it, deep and raspy as he watched you unfold, a spike of arousal in your chest from him as he watched you crest. 

“Most of all, my love,” He pulled his fingers out, your legs still shaking in the aftermath as he began to kiss up your body, letting your thighs tremble on either side of his hips as his lips found yours again. “Your power, is over me. I am entirely at your mercy.”

“Kiss me.” You begged, shaky hands coming up to grip his cheeks, and he nodded.

“With pleasure.” His lips worshipped yours the way his words had worshipped your mind, the way his hands worshipped your body, and your grip skated down to push at the last clothing on his body. Shoving at them, you whined at the effort, sitting up and letting your chest press to his own until you could get them down, his cock springing free, slapping between your wet folds and nudging your swollen clit. “Are you s-”

“Don’t ask me that. Don’t ask me if I'm sure, when thinking about this, thinking about you and me has been my guilty pleasure for decades.” Wrapping your fingers around him, he offered a shaky moan, hips rolling with your movements as you dragged his cock through your wetness, gathering your arousal onto his tip, before lining him up. 

“Not just for the bond, then?” He questioned, laying back into the sheets, one hand at a time raising above your head as he pinned them there, stretching your chest out before his face. Shadows swirled at your wrists, holding them in place for himself, a couple more tugging your ankles apart, rendering you utterly at Azriel’s mercy. 

“Not just for the bond, Az. For you.”

He nudged inside, sinking slowly into you, inch by inch until you felt like you were going crazy, needy for every inch of him to fill you up, for that bond to reach its strongest yet as your bodies connected wholly. When his hips finally sat snugly against your own, you were babbling his name senseless, and he was panting shallow breaths through his teeth to hold himself steady. “Gods, you feel like heaven.”

Azriel pulled back, a single thrust that had both of you calling out, your hands gripping him, legs tight around him, and he did it again. Building up steadily in pace, he rolled his hips into your one, hard and deep, your body firing in response like nothing you’d ever felt. With every slam of his hips into yours, every whisper of praise in your ear, you reached higher and higher, feeling like you were leaving your body behind. 

His name was a whine on your lips, your hands struggling over your head, fighting against his bonds, and they gave little. His head dipped down, marking every spot on your skin with his kisses, until he was tugging one of your nipples between his teeth, and tears line your eyes at the spark along your spine that resulted. 

This wasn’t just fucking, this wasn’t just making love. This was two souls bonding, finding one another and trying together so fully that you’d never be apart again.

“Please, please, Az. Let me touch you too.”

You found the strength to lift up, to meet his lips as his head raised to yours, a sloppy kiss slamming in the middle of you as his speed picked up. Every part of you honed in on the connection of your hips, the shudder that shot up your body each time, enough to send you flying up the bed if it wasn’t for his hold keeping you in place. You couldn't help the thought flickering through your mind, thanking the Mother and the Cauldron and everything else that the man you’d be tied to for the rest of your life was fucking phenomenal in bed.

“I want to hold my mate.”

He groaned out, body weakening at the word that fell from your tongue, and the shadows slipped away only a second later. As soon as you’d regained use of your hands, you were doing just that, surging out to hold onto him. One hand looped around his neck, holding him tight as your heads sat together, eyes held in an endless gaze, and he slowed his movements, bringing you back down to earth as your body wound up tighter. “I’ve dreamed about this moment for so long.”

“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” You teased, running a hand down his sweat-slicked arm, and he caught it, lacing your fingers together and pressing it back into the bed. The frantic swirling of his shadows began to calm, a frenzy becoming a sensual dance as his thrusts became nothing more than slow rocks into you, your hips working together in harmony. 

“You’re so much more than I could have ever dreamed up.” Your chest filled with emotions, clashing between your hearts along that newly formed bond, and you squeezed at your connected hands. 

Raising your other hand over his shoulder, you didn’t take it gently this time, swiping your palm along the inside of a flared wing, and he roared. A sound that wracked through your body, his hips growing fast once again, violent thrusts the longer your hand remained, his control fraying as you brushed the right spots. You’d touched his wings before, all the places that caused no sensitivity and arousal, this time aiming for every place you’d never dared reach for.

Moving inwards, toward the base of his wings, your touch grew firmer, rubbing your thumb along the place where his wings met his muscled back on the inside, and a broken sob left his lips as his arms gave way. The full weight of him collapsed down atop you, hips grinding, your own orgasm teetering on the edge. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop…”

As your peak crashed into your full force, his name was a shout on your lips as you came undone, your palm pressed into the thick leather of his wings. Twitching fingertips, your nails scraped, and with a sound like you’d never heard him make before, Azriel followed you over the cliff. 

His body shook, warmth erupting inside of you, leaking out around your connected bodies as you tried to rock up into him, meeting him thrust for weak thrust until the stimulation was all too much. He pulled his cock from you with a trembling breath, barely pulling away enough to release him before he was collapsing back down on top of you.

It hadn't been the wildest of sex, nor had it been the best it would be, you knew that by the feelings in your chest he sent across. No, this was different. This was needy and frantic and overwhelming because it was new. It was a boundary being crossed, it was lives being changed, it was the future finally falling into place.

Just one day ago, this time last night, he has nothing more than your best friend. As you’d curled into him to fall asleep one day ago, it had been with no idea what his lips tasted like, or what it felt like to connect to him so completely. 

His arms banded around your waist, soft kisses to accompany the thoughts you must have been blasting out as clearly as screaming them aloud, and he settled his head on your chest after leaving a final kiss on your lips. You let your arms circle him too, a kiss on the top of his head that made him smile against your skin. 

You both agreed, as you fell asleep once again tangled in each other’s arms, that nothing would ever be the same.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: Brainrot's Baking Lesson

~ What happens when six friends ask their local author to show them his bread recipe? What happens when this involves teleporting them to brainrot's IRL apartment kitchen? ~

1.6k words, rated PG

I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to have all of them over at once, instead of inviting them in twos and threes. Nadia and Asra are both sitting on my kitchen stools, being politely conscious of the fact that they are in my personal space. Muriel is surprisingly at ease - he's found my cat. He's very happy to have something small and soft to protect, and she's very happy to have such a tall and attentive shoulder to perch on.

Julian, Lucio, and Portia, on the other hand, are already starting to stress me out.

"Where's the fire?!" Portia's voice echoes from inside my oven, one hand braced dangerously close to the knob that would make the fire she's searching for appear - right under her nose.

"I'll show you how it works after I show you how I make my dough - Julian, your diet is too poor for me to explain what those are."

The doctor glances guiltily over from where he's been examining the selection of instant noodles on top of my fridge. Of course it's the first thing he'd notice, being so damned tall. "Can you blame me? These have pictures of soup on them, but they feel crunchy! Why do they feel crunchy?" He widens his eyes, crunching a packet in one gloved fist for emphasis and I wince.

"I -"

"Why do you have winter in a box? I hate winter!"

"Close the fridge, Lucio."

"Fridge? As in frigid?" Nadia watches her ex-husband's antics with poorly concealed amusement. "How innovative. This eradicates the need for a cellar."

"What kind of magic does it run on?" Asra's question is innocent, but the way they're eyeing the mechanics of my freezer with a curious gleam is anything but.

"Not a type that you're familiar with, so can we please focus on why you're here?" I don't know what it is about my tone that gets my point across, but it works. I stoop to retrieve my bread bowl and set it on my counter. "So, uh -"

Having six pairs of eyes on me at once (seven pairs, if I count the cat) is not a sensation I think I can get used to. I get several encouraging smiles and take a deep breath. These are my friends. They're all sitting with me because they like being here. This is fun. I love them.

"Uh, so, first, I put some hot water in my bowl." I turn on the kitchen tap to 'hot' and immediately take everything back.

"What -"

"What is that?!"

"That does not look natural."

"You can decide the temperature?!"

"Is it safe?"

"How does that work?"

I shut the tap off. For the first time since I ushered them through the door, the apartment is silent. The cat gives me an unimpressed yawn and curls up on Muriel's shoulder for a nap.

"Okay," I run my fingers through my hair, "Okay, let's try this again. This is a water source, in my apartment, that I control the temperature of. The point is not that I have water, the point is that I need hot water to start my dough."

"We have something similar in the Palace," Nadia muses, "though so far its use is limited to drawing the baths and running the fountains. I've been thinking of expanding the network using the aqueducts, but it had not occurred to me to adjust the temperature of the water as it runs through the system."

"U-um, yeah." I nod, hastily measuring the liquid into my bowl. I hope the butterfly effect from this isn't catastrophic. "Anyways, we need oil, honey, and salt next."

I hand different containers to my different guests, giving the salt to Lucio as I expect it to be the least messy ingredient involved. Portia's quick to wave me off when I offer her a measuring cup. "Oh, I'm just watching. I need both hands free to take notes." She's got an old envelope in one hand and a pencil in the other. I nod and move on.

Putting the dough together is fairly straightforward. Besides Julian calling himself a slippery boy, Lucio howling with laughter when I explain the function of yeast, and Nadia sneaking little tastes of honey from the measuring cup, getting to the point of adding flour is fairly event-less. That is, until it's time to add the flour.

I know they can cook, but I'm quickly finding out that Asra might not have any experience baking. Before I can warn him, he's haphazardly tossing a cupful of flour into the mixing bowl, causing the powdery substance to explode all over the counter, the ingredients, and ourselves. There's a moment of stunned silence before Portia reaches over and rumples their curls, raising a second floury cloud from their hair. She giggles. "It just blends right in, doesn't it?"

There's no question in my mind when it comes to who has the best hand and arm strength for kneading. The question is whether he's willing to part with my cat for long enough to do so. Taiga is thoroughly enamored with her preheated napping tree.

"I'd take her, but I'm still writing my notes." Portia looks ready to cry from frustration. Nadia, always quick to smooth things over, reaches up and begins to lift the furball down.

"I'll hold her. She seems very sweet -"

The tiny, annoyed 'mew' the cat makes as she's lifted down is enough to capture the guests' attention. Muriel takes advantage of the distraction to get a headstart on kneading the dough, his massive hands getting the job done in half the time it usually takes me. I should invite him over to help out more often ...

"She SMACKED me!"

"What do you expect if you try to touch a cat right after they hiss at you?"

When I look over again, Taiga is crouching in Nadia's lap with her tail bushed out, letting out low warning yowls in Lucio's direction. Julian is busy trying to get both of the offended parties to calm down, while Asra sneaks her treats with a proud look on their face. I narrow my eyes. When did he pull those out of my cupboard?

"Now what?"

"Hm?"

When I look back at our project, Muriel is standing over the bowl with both hands slathered in dough and the beginnings of an embarrassed pout on his face. "... I can't get it off."

"Oh gosh - let me help with that. Sorry, this recipe is really sticky ..."

Lucio materializes at my other elbow as I work the dough off of Muriel's hands. "I'm tasting this now."

Before I can protest, he's scooped some out with his finger and already has a chunk in his mouth. For half a moment I consider bapping his hand much like my cat did a few minutes ago, but I let it slide. A little raw flour never hurt anyone ... right?

"I hate to be bothersome, but ah ..." Julian is still standing in the middle of the kitchen, swaying slightly on his feet. "I'm afraid I forgot to eat, and I'm beginning to suspect that bread takes longer than a half an hour to produce ..."

"Honestly, Ilya, why would you do that?"

Julian stares down wide-eyed at his sister, comically intimidated by someone half his size. "I was ... busy."

"Busy since when?" Portia's eyes narrow as she presses her brother to confess the full extent of his sins. "Speak."

"Er - yesterday?"

"You bastard!"

"Okay!" I jump in. "It's going to take another hour and a half, so ... how about we eat?"

Lucio and Asra both look mildly disappointed when I cut off their brewing entertainment. Nadia looks generally concerned. "We'd hate to impose on you. I fear we've already caused enough trouble."

"It's not troublesome," I tell her as I reach for the top of my fridge, "instant noodles are easy."

"I though you said my diet was too poor to learn about these." I swear Julian's eyebrows get bushier with excitement as I set my electric kettle to boil.

"I underestimated you."

... he looks way too self-satisfied with that.

By the time the bread has risen, been shaped, risen again, been baked, and cooled enough to slice up and send home, my guests have made themselves perfectly comfortable. Portia has raided my wardrobe and tried on every cosplay I still own. Nadia has gone through all my chopsticks and arranged them by pairs. Muriel has given Taiga so many scritches that I think she's imprinted on him. Julian has smuggled at least seven instant noodle packets into his coat and grilled me about every item in my medicine cabinet. Lucio has tested out every single makeup product leftover from said cosplay days (I don't know how to tell him that it's all expired and should probably be thrown out). Asra has somehow managed to innocently unearth all the embarrassing things I own before taking a catnap in my bed.

"And that's how I make my bread," I tell them. The six are standing at my door again, each holding half a loaf to take home. "Any questions before I take you back?"

"Can I have some jam for this?" Lucio's already tucking into his piece, speaking around a large chunk in his mouth. "It's kinda dry without it."

"I'm sure you'll be able to procure some upon our arrival." Nadia is somehow making a wrapped half-loaf look like a ballgown accessory with how elegantly she's holding it. "I worry that we may have overtaxed our host."

"Not at all," I tell them, and I mean it. Whatever grey hairs I've gotten from this are far outweighed by how happy I was to spend time with them. "Let me know if you ever want more. Maybe next time we could watch a movie."

"What's a moo-fee?"

"Never mind!" I yelp, "Let's head out, I'm sure you're more than ready to be back in your world, let me just make sure the cat doesn't try to follow us -"

The cat is, indeed, trying to follow us. She gives Muriel's shoulder and Asra's treat-filled pocket a forlorn look as I gently scoot her away from the door. Wait -

"Give those back!"

"Never!"

[subtly-a-selkie]

Tadashi is Here

Here is my re-written Tadashi fic! I wrote this June maybe July of 2020, and although its been edited briefly before its been two years and I've (probably) improved so I re-wrote it. Anyways!

Word Count: 700 ish

Warnings: implied death, (?) fluff that is secretly angst in disguise

"Tadashi is here."

Baymax's torso begins to light up showing a screen, Tadashi is looking into the camera, holding a small chalkboard with the words "Test #1" along with his name. A girl stands next to him, wearing his signature baseball cap and smiling.

"This is Tadashi Hamada and this is the first test of my robotics project."

With a little nudge from Tadashi, the girl spoke too. "And I'm Y/N L/N, Tadashi's assistant and girlfriend."

Hiro's eyes widen at the statement, not only did he not recognize this girl but she was Tadashi's girlfriend?

The girl -- Y/N presses a button and Baymax starts to speak.

"Hello I am Baymax--" the robot was cut off by a loud screeching noise, causing the screen to glitch, and both Tadashi and Y/N to clap their hands over their ears. Tadashi quickly shuts Baymax off, the screen showing the last frame of them for a couple seconds before starting up again.

"-is the 7th test of my robotics project."

Y/N waves from the background, wearing a pair of ridiculously fluffy earmuffs, probably an attempt to soften the screeching noises that Baymax had emitted, and Tadashi's SFIT sweatshirt. She is also holding a mug that had a silly robotics joke on it, and a teabag string hung out of the mug.

"Hello I am Baymax--" the screen glitches and suddenly the robot is attacking Tadashi.

Y/N's eyes widen and she sets the mug down, reaching out to Tadashi. Unfortunately Baymax's arm detaches from his body at that moment and she has to quickly duck down to not be hit by it.

"Oh my god." she exclaims as the arm manages to knock down the computer in the corner of the room.

"Wait! Wait! Stopstopstop!" Tadashi shouts, managing to stop Baymax. The screen freezes on the last frame a bit longer this time, showing Y/N's eyes wide at the destruction Baymax's arm caused, and Tadashi trying to dodge the arm that was still attached.

"Tadashi Hamada again. This is the 33 test of my robotics project." Tadashi said almost apathetically, dark circles under his eyes and messy hair prominent. Y/N moves into view of the camera and gently places her hand on his arm.

"Dashi we should probably get some rest." Y/N said, standing up on her tiptoes so she could give him a kiss on the cheek. Almost as if the electric system agreed with her the lights spark and go out. Tadashi switches on a flashlight and stares directly into the camera.

"I'm not giving up on you, you don't understand this yet, but people need you." Y/N gives him a fond smile "Now back to work." She rolls her eyes and Tadashi presses the off button.

"My name is Tadashi Hamada and this is the 84th test." The other videos were dark, but this one is flooded with light, quite clearly the late morning. The chalkboard has 82 and 83 crossed off of it and Y/N is leaning on him half asleep. Once she realizes that the video is going she straightens up, stretching her arms above her head. Tadashi smiles at her, kissing the top of her head and then turns to face Baymax.

"What do you say big guy?" he presses a button and the robot begins to speak.

"Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion." It takes a few seconds for Tadashi to realize that nothing bad has happened and when it does he becomes ecstatic.

"It works!" he yells "This is amazing! you-you work!" He pulls Y/N closer to him and cups her face, kissing her impulsively. "I knew it! I knew it, I knew knew it! I can't believe it!"

Although Y/N's reaction is definitely more subdued than Tadashi's she is very clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of her feet slightly.

"Okay okay big moment." Tadashi says, glancing at his girlfriend. "Scan me."

"Your neurotransmitter levels are elevated, this indicates that you are happy."

"I am. I really am. Oh man wait until my brother sees you. You're going to help so many people buddy. So many." 

(Y/N) wraps her arms around her boyfriend. "And then I get to meet him and your aunt right?"

"Of course. I am satisfied with my care."

The screen freezes on Tadashi leaning in to kiss Y/N again.

"Baymax?" Hiro asks "Do you know where Y/N is?"

continuation!

[mad-maximoff]

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐞

Summary: Don't call her babe, under no circumstances.

Warnings: Language, light bondage, gentle dom, soft choking, fingering, edging, denial, oral

Word Count:

"Who...in the fuck are you?" The statuesque blonde cocked her head violently around her shoulder. Her heavy silver chain hit her collarbone.

"My name's Mazzy. I'm from the resistance. You need to come with me now Barb." A much shorter woman came before the blonde whisking her hand as she led into a cellar door. Down a spiral metal staircase. "The resistance! I thought they were meeting me at the airport?!" Barb grew skeptical following the brunette. Mazzy's hair was shaved bald on either side of her skull in a short mohawk. Every orifice of her body was either covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Pfft! I thought so too. Supposedly the airport had bomb threats so it wasn't safe to fly you out. We have to take the subway." The stairs ended against a brick wall with a crater blown in the middle. "Duck!" Mazzy's hand laid on Barb's head to push her through the brick. "Watch the hair kid!" She brushed Mazzy's hand away adjusting the wild curls. "Fine, fine. We're in the last free city and you're worrying about your hair? Haha!" Mazzy brushed it off not wanting to start anything quite yet. She looked up to Barb Wire. All of the young freedom fighters did. After she took down the Congressional Council and killed Colonel Victor Pryzer she became a hero. Perhaps after this, the whole world will be free.

"I'm a hit woman with a specific look honey, I need to look the part." Her heeled boots ticked along the subway tiles. The subway system shut down years ago, so the last of the Congressional Council wouldn't find them. "Well, your hit woman days are over babe." Mazzy joked as her hips swayed along to the noise of the only subway growing to a halt.

"What did you call me?" Barb stopped behind Mazzy. She hated that sentiment. To be called 'babe' was her most hated. Barb's demeanour turned from confused to pissed in a matter of seconds. The subway cart finally drew to a complete stop opening the doors. "All I said was you being a mercenary and a bounty hunter was over." Mazzy threw herself down on a seat. Barb followed behind arms crossed over her the breast of her leather jacket. "No. The other part." Barb's leather boot tapped the subway cart floor, as the doors closed, Barb and Mazzy were the only ones in the cart. The lights began to flicker.

"What?... What the hell are you going on about?" Mazzy huffed as she slouched her back lower in her seat, widening her legs so her boots lay flat on the floor.

Barb Wire was feared by everyone, especially men who did not pay their debts. It was most often messy when she'd drag their asses back to pay their debts. Usually kicking and screaming. Her boots scraped along leaning in front of Mazzy. Her hands gripped the seat behind Mazzy as her body moved more towards her. "No one calls me Babe. You're going to have to pay for that Maz." Barb growled flipping her platinum hair behind her shoulder.

"Huh? Don't get your panties in a twist, I didn't mean anything by it. What're you gonna do? Shoot me?" Mazzy chuckled brushing off Barb's stern tone. Barb removed her hands from the backrest of Mazzy's chair as she tore open her leather jacket revealing her leather bodysuit. "Do you see a gun? I have no more ammo, besides, I wouldn't waste my good bullets on you." Barb bent down this time flicking a few strands of Mazzy's hair from her face. "You need to be taught some manners." Her boot planted beside Mazzy's body to have more leverage.

"Really now? You teach me what? To tie a corset? On the subway really?" Mazzy scoffed brushing this whole thing off. Mazzy thought Barb Wire was just playing her bluff. Knowing her reputation Barb was a very sarcastic person. The lights flickered again leaving them both in the dark for a moment. The lights came on only to see Barb untying the front of the corset with the string in hand. "On the contrary. Babe. You need to learn how to treat your leaders with respect." Barb's hands spun around Mazzys' arms tying her arms behind her back with the string. "What the hell-..."

"Shut up. You talk too much for your own good." Barb's hand laid around Mazzy's throat not moving a single finger. "And I'm going to make sure you learn a lesson." The lights in the subway cart went out again leaving them both in the dark again. Mazzy tried to free herself thinking Barb was not aware. Barb's boot scuffed against Mazzy's soot-covered blue wash jeans. Barb's body leaped onto Mazzy's lap. "Where the hell are you going?" The cart, still dark with the only light coming from the tunnel lights. Barb's hand tilted on Mazzy's neck back. As Barb straightened her back, her leather top dropped to the floor. "The fun is just starting baby." Her bouncy hair covered Mazzy's vision. Her buxom glossy red lips smacked together before landing on top of Mazzy's much smaller lips. They broke for air, Mazzy realizing her cracked lips were coated in Barb's lipstick. Maz saw before her the leader of their resistance straddling her tied-up body. Barb grinned smearing the lipstick all over Maz's face. "There. That'll shut you up." Barb lowered her hand to untie the string of her leather thong. The thong dropped to her knees only sporting fishnets. She stood up kicking the leather thong off, while her hand latched on Maz's shoulder tumbling her down on the seat. Barb unbuckled Maz's belt as she whipped it out of the belt holes. "You don't need this right? Guess not." She hummed as her body crawled on top of Mazzy.

"A?...what? This is your interpretation of a lesson? A sexy strip tease?" Maz joked with little to no confidence. The fear pondered in her brain, what happened to the last person who called her babe? Mazzy stirred under the pressure of Barb's weight, while the seam of her denim jeans loosened around her waist. "You don't know how to shut up, do you? In that case, let me make you scream." Barb's hand crept under Mazzy's jeans to the plain cotton underwear under her denim. Barb's fingers swept down Maz's pubic bone when her finger finally found what she was looking for. In truth, Barb did not want to hurt Mazzy, after, they only just met a brief moment ago. Yes, she was pissed for Maz's remark but she didn't want to do major harm. She thought since they were going to be here a while, and she'd be alone on a plane to Canada when they arrived, perhaps she'd make a little fun out of it. A victory she'd call it.

Mazzy was all out of sorts. She felt drunk even though she didn't drink a drop. A daze; perhaps she hit her head on the way down. Her emotions were out of wack as well. Fear, confusion, even lust. She would never admit she was horny as hell. Yes, Barb Wire is an attractive woman. Especially a gorgeous blondes hovering over her the likes of the infamous Barb Wire.

Her index hovered finally in contact with Mazzy's pulsating clit. Maz's body jumped under Barb's with a muffled noise. "Awe aren't you cute, whining like a little puppy? Come on puppy, let me hear you." Barb switched holding herself up to lay her hand across Mazzy's throat. Her digits curled around Maz's skin piercing sharply. Barb's middle finger crept lower to her center diving deeply into Maz's slickly coaxed fold. Mazzy's stifled noises echoed through the subway cart erupting more loud than metal hitting the rails. Maz's moans were jagged under the blonde. Barb's grip around Mazzy's throat tightened. Not in a hurtful sense, in a sense in which Mazzy feels the most pleasure possible. She had no reason to kill or hurt Mazzy. No personal or finacial gain. Just a thrill.

"Oh-..." Maz's head was spinning. Either from the subway moving or Barb's grip. As Barb began to thrust her middle finger her thumb drifted over the brunette's clit. Barb, smiling ear to ear, bent her head locking her lips to Mazzy's. Her grip still slightly loosened. All of Barb's signature red lipstick smeared across Mazzy's lips. Her tongue locked with Mazzy's briefly without any hesitation to continue the long and rather sloppy mess they both were in. Barb's lips let go raising her head. "Fuck...you keep doing that and I might bring you with me." Her finger twitched inside Mazzy as her thumb circled her erect clit like it was a tiny button. Maz felt the instant feeling that was coming. She was. The feeling was like a rollercoaster. Making it up to the top to climax to crash down on her high. The hot bliss of Maz's core palpitated as it tightened around Barb's finger. She slipped her finger out to peer down at Mazzy's trembling body.

"P-please...Barb!" Mazzy cried out. "K-keep going..." She sighed out in the sense her high was wearing thin. "I think you enjoyed that too much." Her grip around Maz's throat disappeared trailing down her top to the hem of jeans. Both of her hands hooked on either side pulling the denim down past her ankles, over her chunky boots. "I definitely did. Though," Barb threw her platinum blonde up off her shoulders. Her body cascaded lower past Mazzy's knees. Cracking them wide open. "I know you'll enjoy this more." Maz panted, basic whines escaped her lips not fully knowing what would happen next. She had a grasp of what was going on, nothing could ever prepare her. Barb's head ducked into Maz's thighs. Maz's arms have already fallen asleep behind her back from all of her weight. Mazzy bucked once she felt the faint glide of Barb's tongue over her most sensitive area. Her nails dug into Maz's soft thighs.

"Oh god...B-Bar-" Her moan cut through the air louder than all of the others combined. "You're such a good girl." Barb hummed fluttering her tongue deeply into Maz's drenched pussy. The noises of moans and wet sloshes howled through the subway cart. Who knew two women alone could conjure such a racket. Barb's tongue flicked Maz's clit with her body tensing up. Mazzy tried to silence her moans but every breath she took in her moans grew more garish. "Who's my good girl? Huh? Is it you?"

"Y-yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"I-I'm you're good girl!" Maz spat out tilting her head back on the seat. It stirred back up inside Mazzy's being. The feeling of the rollercoaster. Climbing up to the top. Come crashing down. "Oh god!" She cried tensing every muscle in her back. Barb's nails punctured further into Maz's skin as Maz's moans vibrated the subway cart. Barb perked her bead up crawling back up to greet Mazzy's stained face.

"Haha! Now wasn't that fun?" Barb brushed away tiny strands of hair that sat on Maz's forehead, planting a small kiss in the same area. Mazzy was lost for words, she nodded not finding her voice quite yet.

The subway lights flicked back on to their orangish yellow hue. Barb loosened the strings off Mazzy's arms, reupholstering the string to her corset and thong. "Huh maybe you should join me on that plane-..." Barb's word was cut short as the cart came to a halt. The doors swing open to be greeted by a whole fire squad of the Congressional Council awaiting for us.

"Well fuck...this will be fun."

[secret-engima]

*slaps table* hi. This is the post where I talk about, yet again, why Kishi is an idiot when it comes to the implications of his own worldbuilding. Point 1. being that Kishi’s insistence that peacetime is bad for shinobi business is hot garbage and point 2. being the implications of ANBU being Scary even to other shinobi. Because the show makes it clear that ANBU are supposed to be the Scary Ones, the Dark Ones who do messed up stuff. Many fics have already talked about this, but not *too* many I've seen actually explore the implications of what that actually MEANS when put in the context of a society who thinks it's A-okay to give a knives and bombs to literal kids and shoo them off to fight things. Buckle up I’m going to flex my logic center and start talking economics even tho I never studied economics outside casual worldbuilding interest.

Okay to start off with, I’m need to talk about Not Anbu for a hot minute and describe some of the few things we *do* know about Kishi’s “worldbuilding” of the shinobi villages and their history.

1. Literally everyone but Madara the Madman agrees that the villages are a Good Thing that happened, even the missing ninja never breathe a word about wanting to go back to the Warring States Era where everyone was in clans. The implications of this could honestly be it’s own entire rant but I will restrain myself and focus on the topic at hand for now.

2. Konoha and every village barring the trash fire that is pre-Boruto Kiri have a thriving enough economy to be literal *cities* of very decent size and decent quality of life, which the civilians have a major hand in I’m sure, but tellingly the shinobi *make enough income to get by* and seem to do so very easily. I will probably come back to this as I go on.

3. Ninja villages not only have a wide array of mission ranks (which I will also come back to) but they are the ones who set the prices for individual missions, not the employers. This is seen in the infamous Wave mission when the bridge builder fellow lied about the danger of the mission because he *could not afford to pay for a mission above a C-rank*, which I remind you is the second lowest mission ranking in the system.

Alright with those in mind I’m gonna talk about the “peacetime is bad for shinobi” garbage because that does actually relate directly to the worldbuilding implications of ANBU. Just. Just bear with me here and forgive me if this kinda rambles in multiple directions, talking about anything with Kishi makes my braincells run for the hills on a good day.

JUMPING IN WITH THE PEACETIME THING. This is stupid. This is one of the stupidest things to come out of Kishi’s mouth in my opinion barring the existence of the cannibal space aliens. Why? Because despite Kishi’s love of explosions and giant flashy fights shinobi are supposed. To be. STEALTHY. And the vast majority of them now live in villages, which means they need steady income.

Post the unification of the clans into villages, wars actually became too big and messy to be profitable because it’s during peacetime that people have money to spend on hiring ninja. And we see them spend it on incredibly frivolous things when it comes to shinobi. Just look at all the D-ranks we see or are referenced in the shows. Babysitting, pet retrieval, fence painting, carrying shopping bags for civilian ladies, house cleaning, the list goes on. And these pay well enough, are priced high enough by the village, that Might Dai, a single parent, was able to feed, shelter, and clothe both himself and an extremely energetic child while also having time to train himself and his son and walk Gai to and from school. And the price tag for missions only goes up from there. Higher ranked missions pay more according to risk, but peacetime is when people will be able to afford those kinds of missions. *Wartime*, as war is defined in the show post-village creation, are giant, messy affairs where a lot of manpower goes to maintaining front lines and countering enemy action, leaving far *less* manpower and time to take on these kinds of missions, and with the mass destruction of land and resources that these wars cause, people will have less money to throw at having the magic ninja men do things like escort caravans, deal with petty crime, retrieve stolen items, etc. And those examples are just C-rank/B-rank examples. Most wartime missions that we see in the show are actually missions assigned by the village itself, not from an outside client, which means the pay is coming from the Village coffers and not an external source, which can get messy very quickly if they do not have the manpower to take enough missions from outside clients to refill those coffers. Remember that I’m coming back to it later.

Wartime, for village ninja, is loud and messy and ugly. *Peacetime* on the other hand, is the playground of the rich, the powerful, and the *subtle*. Peacetime is when nobles pay top dollar to *flaunt* that they can afford to hire a ninja or three to escort them around in broad daylight regardless of any enemies they’ve made. Peacetime is when nobles have the money to pay for ninja to go in and spy on rivals or steal secrets. Peacetime is when the Daimyo and other elites hire shinobi to escort luxury goods at high risk of theft, to deal with underground human or drug trafficking that is inconveniencing them, or to spy on their neighboring lands for information that will become useful next time they meet up to flex on each other in a “you don’t want to make trouble with me I have and know X”.

More importantly, peacetime is when the *lower* classes can afford to pay for the magic ninja as well. If D-ranks are enough to support a single parent and his child, then C and B ranks are actually going to be the *backbone* of a ninja village’s economy, not the A or S ranks. C and B ranks are going to be the highest pay for the lowest risk, and those will predominantly come from the merchant and working class who have enough spare cash to have someone deal with the wild animals harming their livestock, take out budding trafficking rings and bandit gangs or escort people and goods.

     I don’t think I’m emphasizing this one enough. Look at a map of the Elemental Nations, look at the size of those countries. Now we don’t get a lot of info on cities in those countries (because KISHI) but there are bound to be plenty of villages, towns, and cities dotting those countries, and all of them are going to be connected in some way to each other via trade routes and highways. You’re going to have Konoha’s own supply lines and the trade deals they have with their own merchant families bargaining for preferential treatment in exchange for setting up shop in a ninja village on top of all the other merchants from all over the Land of Fire who, during peacetime, have both money and incentive to hire the fire-chucking magic people to ensure *all* of their goods arrive *on time, every time*.

You’re going to have merchants who have supply lines through multiple countries. Glass products from the Land of Wind. Inks, fine paper, and flavored teas from Land of Fire. Fish, oyster, and pearl products from the coast (which is especially high risk in areas near the disaster fire that is Kiri). Each and every country is going to have luxury products or famous higher-quality raw materials (*points at Iwa and their rock obsession, points at every product made out of high quality stone, silver, gold, or iron ore*) that the other countries are all going to want, and consequently you will have merchants that are going to be willing to pay top dollar to ensure those products get where they are meant to go and do so undamaged and in a timely fashion despite bad roads/bad weather/bandits/rogue shinobi hired by a competitor/wild animals/freak acts of the local kami because you forgot to pay tribute to their shrine last week.

The technology of pre-Boruto era is also still stuck in the *horse and wagon* stage, meaning you have caravans of this stuff moving on very strict, long term schedules, which means these are jobs that the village can charge per day or week on the road on top of the base price estimated from the level of risk to the shinobi. You have merchants who are going to give preferential treatment to the village of their home nation if they can, both because you Don’t Insult The Local Fire Breathers/Rock Gougers/Storm Summoners/Etc but also because the villages themselves likely offer discounts for natives of their country, or even contracts that are essentially subscription deals for those who have multiple caravans going out at the same time, multiple times in a year. A “pay this much up front and we will ensure that several shinobi are always on standby to guard one of your caravans” kinda deal. It’s been implied multiple times in the shows that the majority of any shinobi village’s workforce are chuunin and that jounin’s are elite, and C/B-ranks are literally stated in the wiki to be usually given to teams of Chuunin or sometimes two genin teams and their jounin pairing up for a joint operation. Chuunin are going to make their careers on guarding caravans, dealing with bandits, clearing road hazards, etc. If Chuunin are the majority of your workforce, then missions that chuunin can take are going to be, by necessity, the largest cashflow coming into your village.

If a war between two or more countries is happening, all of that gets heavily restricted because of the risk of infiltration, heavily impeded from road destruction and wartime front lines, or straight up *shut down* from lack of money and manpower to take those missions.

Can you see what I’m getting at now when I say Kishi’s peacetime line is stupid.

And here comes another fun aspect of this. Because where the money flows, so does the cultural norms. Now a lot of fics I’ve seen emphasize the child soldier thing and also how D-ranks are very likely a way to acclimate the genin to mission work while also training civilians to see ninja as Friendly Safe Workers who happen to have magic powers and knives. But the thing is, all of that work on acclimating the civilians to view their local shinobi as Safe To Hire is going to go out the window if you remind them too often that these people are literal killers for hire. Merchants are not going to want to hire Infamous Killers because that says to their customers and their potential business partners that they themselves are shady and possibly approve of murder to get their way. Poking at D-ranks briefly, farmers aren’t going to want to hire potentially unhinged murderers to till their fields, and nobody is going to want to hire even the genin to *babysit their kids*.

So.

In order to attract reliable patronage from these low risk, well paying areas, the ninja villages had to *alter their public perception*. Assassination missions, kidnapping missions, extortion missions, all of those over time became short-term gain/long-term loss for the village. So they took them on less and less, and those kinds of missions became increasingly *socially unacceptable* even to the shinobi, because if the village doesn’t approve of it, it’s not a good thing. What assassination/sabotage missions we do see or hear referenced in canon are always, iirc, targeting someone that can the ninja can safely point at and say “this is a bad guy”. High ranking rogue shinobi from other villages or crime lords or despotic warlords being I think the majority (if not the entirety) of the few examples canon gives us. Those are people that, when civilians hear about them being assassinated, the civilians are going to say “good riddance” rather than “oh no!”. And if those missions are the only ones that the common shinobi hear about themselves or take on, then that’s what they are going to associate with those types of missions. A high risk job that is nonetheless seen as Morally Right, even if their moral compass hinges mostly on who is the friend or enemy of their home village.

I could also get into how this has really interesting implications for what the Warring State Era shinobi economics were like and how Hashirama and Madara making Konoha was basically inventing the concept of unionizing but I’m not going to side track to that because finally, FINALLY, we get to the ANBU Are Scary Thing.

Because this. This whole thing about how peacetime is actually where ninja villages make their bread and butter and how the push-pull of being Socially Acceptable for Money turning into Actual Moral Perception is where ANBU’s identity as the Scary Guys comes into play.

Now we don’t know when ANBU was actually founded in Konoha or any other village, but I’m going to ballpark and say it was *after* the First War because of a few key things we know about ANBU.

1. ANBU are Scary.

2. ANBU are known to specifically hunt other ninja (specifically Kiri has a Hunter-nin branch of ANBU but logically every village would have this).

3. ANBU work is extremely psychologically and physically grueling to their members and has a high fatality rate.

4. Whatever ANBU does is considered messed up even by ninja standards. An example that comes to mind is a filler flashback where Gai ends up running into Kakashi on an ANBU mission where Kakashi is basically putting down enemy ninja that are defeated and attempting to surrender and Gai is visibly distressed by this.

The First Shinobi World War likely rocked the Elemental Nations as badly or *worse* than WWI did for the real world, because this was the first time “war” was not defined as two or three noble lords throwing peasants with spears or the occasional ninja at each other or two or three shinobi clans having a protracted blood feud that they could only initiate when they weren’t busy trying to feed their own families. Assuming Konoha has the average number of shinobi clans that can be found in a shinobi village, that means we had somewhere upward of 55 clans from various countries throwing everything they had at each other on open battlefields, destroying large amounts of landscape, and causing shinobi and civilian casualties on a mass scale that even the most fire happy Uchiha could not have achieved on their worst day. This was also after Jinchuuriki became a thing, so this war was the first demonstration of what it’s like to essentially duct tape a nuke to an emotionally volatile child soldier and see what happens when you throw two or more of them into a battlefield.

The economy of the villages and their respective nations would have been in chaos after the war. Entire towns, roads, and bridges are straight up gone, chunks of landscape for miles around have been drastically rewritten, the death toll is high and the missing persons list is even higher and in the wake of this you’re going to have *every* would-be warlord and their grandfather getting uppity and trying to stake a claim on what they can of the wreckage. This includes Rogue Shinobi, likely the first real appearance of Rogue Shinobi in ninja history, at least on this scale. Lots of shinobi are going to be disillusioned from the war, exhausted, more than a few are mentally broken from the traumas, and all the ninja who have no moral compasses and dreams of power are looking at this and deciding “hey, now is a great time to become a warlord”. On top of all this, since most of the wartime missions were assigned by the villages themselves and not an outside client (with *very minimal* cash flow coming from the Daimyo himself since presumably the war was partially his idea, but even the royal coffers are not enough to run a military city the size of Konoha kthanks), the village coffers are likely hanging out somewhere between “Naruto’s childhood allowance” and “I can offer you lint”.

Obviously, these things need to be taken care of pronto, and with the villages scrambling to have the money to rebuild, the Kage in charge are going to be much more willing to take on dirty missions like assassinations, extortion, blackmail, *whatever* just to refill the village coffers. But. The ninja villages still need to keep their social acceptability in order to start getting their C and B ranks back, especially after the war opened everyone’s eyes to how destructive shinobi can really be in large numbers. They cannot afford to be seen killing left and right and the Rogue ninja are a huge stain on their village’s reputation, but openly advertising that “hey, if anyone leaves the village we’ll behead them” really isn’t going to do any favors for keeping the shinobi who are in the same mental space Tsunade was when she got fed up and left Konoha altogether.

And this, I think, is what gave rise to the existence of ANBU. The Kages picking their remaining highly skilled and most loyal followers, putting them in masks so that they cannot be easily identified by civilians, and sent out to quietly complete these high level, socially unacceptable missions. They were sent out to deal with Rogue shinobi and make them disappear without advertising to all the other traumatized village shinobi that their village is “serve or die” rather than the more patriotic “we fight for our home” that they were raised with. They were sent out to perform civilian assassinations, extortion, whatever they were offered in order to shore up the village’s shaky economy of the time and enable the Kage to pay their soldiers.

Then, after the economy stabilized, the ANBU just kinda … never left. Because by then the respective Kage had realized that being able to take on these kinds of missions with high pay and no loss of social acceptability was useful, and in the wake of the First War with everyone being simultaneously paranoid of their neighboring country but also on eggshells to not start another war, the anonymity of ANBU became a convenient way to keep an eye on each other and subtly attempt to sabotage the other when it looked like they were getting too powerful. The next two Great Shinobi Wars only solidified ANBU’s role in the hidden villages for those very same reasons, even though I would argue that they were ultimately a Bad Idea because they put too much power in the hands of the Kage without their village clans being able to hold them responsible, and that’s how we get stuff like Danzo™ and the crimes committed by Danzo™ and the Sandaime against the Uchiha. The existence of ANBU and the ability to “anonymously” jab at each other also just encouraged the animosity between the Great Shinobi Villages, and allowed warmongers (Danzo™) to ensure that an actual peace never fully settled in until the 4th Shinobi War happened.

And the peace post the 4th war, by the way, SHOULD have been a huge boom in the popularity and use of shinobi rather than the detriment that the Boruto manga/anime insists on for like- all the reasons stated in the economics part of this rant as well as the rise of CORPORATIONS that would happily pay a lot for shinobi in a host of different capacities and also people paying for shinobi to pretty please come help rebuild our destroyed homes and farmland with your fancy ninja powers.

It’s also canon that several shinobi retired and went into other professions in the wake of this peace and alliance, such as *acting*, which opens up an entire potential slew of missions geared specifically toward movie producers using their new technologies and their bigger budgets to hire shinobi as stuff like stunt doubles, live special effects artists (need to rehearse but the set isn’t done yet? No problem!! Just hire someone with *genjutsu* to make your actors the ultimate set/stage), *makeup artists* (hey those infiltration skills come in handy in a lot of ways), and more. And that’s just one “modern” profession off the top of my head that would adore having Magic Ninja People available for hire.

I’m sure I’m missing a ton of potential peace time jobs and economic implications because again, I only research this stuff in relation to worldbuilding fictional places. But there we go, I have just gone a 3k rant about ninja economics in order to explain why ANBU are Scary. I hope ya’ll enjoyed.

A side note I couldn’t find a good spot for in the actual rant but another factor in the shinobi villages having to change their behavior and seem Socially Acceptable is because of the rise of civilian-born shinobi in their genin/chuunin ranks. Because there’s no way a civilian family is going to *want* their child to become a murderous psychopath. A competent, magic wielding defender of your merchant uncle’s caravans on the other hand…

Other rants I need to do at some point when my braincells aren’t mush are:

1. My personal HCs on Konoha’s orphanage/foster system (aka Hi, Let Me Give You More Reasons To Hate Sarutobi Hiruzen)

2. Ninja Economics Two: Warring States Boogaloo (Edit: now available here!)

3. Why Cannibal Space Ninjas Are The Stupidest Idea of Multiple Stupid Options

4. Boruto Ninja Cults: What Kishi Could’ve Done Instead of the Garbage We Got

5. Genin Corps (Aka Reasons Kishi Could’ve Given for Why No One Thought Kabuto Was Suspicious But Didn’t. Aka Ninja Economics 3 Babyyyyyy)

[catscidr]

We need more of natural remedy!! 😭 expect with comfort and the reader starts to get better maybe?💕

im so glad you enjoyed it nonnie ueue i was talking about it to my friend and told him i felt like it was the opposite of my magnum opus bc i disliked how i wrote it so much LMAOO im happy it was an enjoyable read!! ur making me all mushy and uegfnshjns (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, comfort, established relationship, proofread only a lil includes: gn!reader, childe wc: 1,1k -ˋˏ continuation to this mini fic! (but this can be read without reading part 1 prior)

Waking up is always a gamble when you’ve been sick for a while. Will today finally be the day that you can get out of bed, or will you be forced to rot in bed again, enduring whatever bullshit a higher power decided to throw in your face by making your body fight some miniscule bacteria in your system? Falling ill is something everyone can relate to, and you (unfortunately) weren’t an exception. 

However, when opening your eyes, you find yourself able to think clearly (or as clearly as you can when waking up on a regular day). You rub your eyes clean of the crust, a sign that you’ve slept decently well, and look at your surroundings. Your legs were tangled in your bed sheets, your hair all messy, you even had some dried saliva on the corner of your mouth from when you had switched from breathing through your nose to becoming a mouth-breather during the night... but nothing too out of the ordinary. 

Relieved that today seemed to be starting off relatively well, you untangle yourself from the duvet (you make a mental note to wash them later, they still vaguely smelled of perspiration from when you had sweat through them the day before) and hop out of bed. To excited to finally have working muscles, you get up too fast and feel your knees buckle beneath your weight as you fall against the side of the bed with a quiet oof. 

The noise startled a certain someone awake, quiet groaning making itself heard on the other side of the bed. Still half asleep, you don’t register that the noise wasn’t from your imagination, but was from your lover, Tartaglia. When it finally does click, you tiptoe your way around the bed and lean down to brush ginger locks away from his face and watch how his brows furrow as a result. 

“Nnnh... too bright,” he grumbles quietly, burrowing his face in the blanket covering his body. You chuckle softly, kneeling on the floor and resting your chin on the bed to lessen the strain on your (still tired) legs from crouching. 

“‘M sorry I woke you,” you say quietly, pulling the sheet away from his face, just enough to free his mouth from having his voice get muffled from the fabric. The redhead murmurs a quiet it’s fine and stretches his legs, dubious noise leaving his lips. 

As he sat up straight and rubbed his eyes, Tartaglia sniffled and cracked one eye open to assess your state. Physically you looked fine, maybe a bit disheveled from having woken up barely five minutes ago, but overall, nothing that screamed “Hey I’m sick as balls and I can’t function”. A satisfied hum leaves him as he leans over you to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, your stomach fluttering at the sweet gesture. 

“Nice to see you up and awake,” he says, voice rumbling from his vocal cords not having been used for a couple of hours. You nod in response, standing up from your kneeling position and dust your knees off, stretching your arms over your head. 

“Mhm. I’m glad I finally have the energy to stand, at the very least.” Slipping your feet into your warm house slippers, you wait for him to get up as well, observing the way his shirt rode up to reveal strong, freckled skin beneath it. You felt the urge to pepper him in kisses as thanks for him taking care of you for the past couple of days but push it down as soon as you hear (and feel) your stomach rumbling. A sheepish smile creeps its way onto your face as Tartaglia slowly turns his head to look at you, one brow raised, and both eyes narrowed in your direction. 

“You’re hungry,” he mumbles, almost accusatory. “Told you that you should’ve eaten something yesterday,” he adds in a way that almost makes him sound like he’s... sulking? 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you huff, a bashful flush appearing on your cheeks. “I was just so tired,” you add with your cheeks puffed out, standing your ground. No way was he going to make you feel guilty for wanting to sleep of all things. 

Unable to keep up his irritated façade, Tartaglia smiles at you. He stands up, putting on his slippers as well and ruffles your hair affectionately. A noise of surprise leaves you as you turn to face him, watching his figure retreat out of the bedroom door and into the hallway leading towards the kitchen. 

“Hey, what was that for!” you huff, catching up to him easily, his lazy strides not making it all that hard to stay away from you. Tartaglia simple chuckles, the sound easing your nerves at least slightly. 

“Mm, payback.” He responds with a lazy smile, opening the fridge and taking some fruits out. Some raspberries, blueberries and other various small fruits to snack on until he decides to make a better breakfast. He places them on the table- in which you eagerly sit at, tossing the berries in your mouth with a delighted hum. 

“Thanks for helping me bathe last night,” you say softly, watching the redhead take some ingredients out of the fridge and the pantry, placing them on the counter. He takes a large pout from one of the cupboards before glancing back at you and flashing you a coy smile. 

“Mm, ‘course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help my beloved in their time of need?” he says dramatically, turning his attention away from you and back to the pot in his hands. He fills it up with water, the sound echoing in the bowl, effectively muffling the sound of Tartaglia sniffling for a second time this morning. 

You shrug, picking out a few raspberries out from their container and tossing them in your mouth. Silently, you bask in the joy of being able to properly breathe through your nose, lounging in your chair. You did feel better, however you still felt slightly weak from not doing anything for days on end. Just as you were about to speak up and mention how funny it was that Tartaglia hadn’t gotten sick even though he’d been sticking to your side like glue, he sneezes. 

You jump in surprise, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of the sneeze. He wipes his nose, back still facing you- almost hoping you didn’t hear it. But how could you possibly not have heard it when it was loud enough to wake up whatever wildlife was hanging around your humble cabin? 

Shoulders slumping, you heave out an exasperated groan, holding back a laugh from the pure absurdity of your situation. You get up and grab a box of tissues for him, handing it to him as you pat his back reassuringly. Of course he would get sick now of all times. You still can’t help but to tease him, though. 

“...Did you have to sneeze in the pot?”

[thegaybluejay]

Okay hi I’m back with another ramble-y ATLA character analysis since this is low key my brand on here lmao-

Today I want to talk about Zuko from the lens of someone who also had to deconstruct. This will be long, but please bear with me!

I was raised in a very white conservative evangelical Christian bubble where literally EVERYONE I knew for the majority of my childhood and teenage years thought mostly the same way. There was a lot of othering and shaming of anyone who thought too differently. Even if it was sometimes said more passively than cruelly, there was always that underlying tone. “The others/the people outside of our group/the worldly ones are lost and need our help because we’re better than them!”

While I strived to not be cruel, my beliefs were still harmful. I lost a few friends when I got to my mid-late teenage years because I didn’t yet know how to challenge what I’d been taught.

I see so much of myself in Zuko.

Zuko was surrounded by propaganda his entire life. He was steeped in it - steeped in the blood of those that the system he supported/represented had hurt and killed.

Anger is a huge part of all of this. While my anger was never quite as outward as Zuko’s (I hid it fairly well and was always known as the “pretty good kid”), I can still so heavily relate to his anger. His anger at always falling just short of being good enough or perfect enough. His later anger at himself for not understanding how fucked up the system was sooner. His anger at the people that failed and hurt him. His anger at realizing how he failed and hurt other people. All of it.

I also understand his backslides in Book 2 and early Book 3. When you begin tackling the first layers of harmful shit you’ve been taught, it can quickly become so tempting to just call it quits and go back. You almost start to romanticize the simplicity of life before you began this journey. The rules and goals were so straightforward back then, and deconstructing is messy as hell. Even if you were deeply hurting in your old life, at least you weren’t so damn confused. You used to know your next steps, but now everything is in disarray and you don’t have a direction to rebuild in yet. Going back almost feels like it would be a survival tactic, a way to have a sense of control again. Zuko definitely 100% needed to atone for what he did in Ba Sing Se because it hurt others, and while I’d like to think I would’ve made a different choice in his shoes, I also get it on some level. The confusion stage sucks, and it’s not always linear either.

But then.

One day, something just clicks. You eventually deconstruct enough that you truly come to full terms with how fucked up it all is. And you realize that you don’t belong there anymore, and the version of you that DID belong was just a facade. The blinders fully come off, they’re never going back on, and a spark lights in you that prompts you to make a big change. The deeper you go, the more urgent this deconstruction becomes in your mind because holy fuck I have to do something about this. I want this shit out of my brain for good and I want to help make things better. I want to learn who I am and finally live that out.

THAT is one of the most pivotal points in the journey, and I loved seeing it within Zuko’s arc when he comes to this realization after the war meeting in Book 3 and leaves to join the Gaang. I also loved that they didn’t trust him the first time he came to them - both he as an individual and the system that he had once supported/represented had hurt these people, and it took some real apologies and some time to build up trust. It also wasn’t done with half assed centrism either - it was “I acknowledge that this system is completely broken and wrong and I will do everything in my power to help gut it from the top-down and restore it with love”.

This leads to another pivotal point in the journey - instead of being motivated by fear like you were when you were deep in the indoctrination or by the raw anger you first felt as you initially left, you start to be motivated by love. And it’s the most freeing thing.

It was so cool to see Zuko learn that, while his anger was a helpful tool (ie: the confrontation with his father and his overall anger at the corruption he saw in his nation), he couldn’t be fueled by it any longer. He had to find another motivation to keep going, and he was then taught by the Sun Warriors and the dragons how to be motivated by light and life and love and also how to use those alongside an anger that was finally righteous.

And with this, he was ready to fight. To fight for a cause he knew to be good. To fight arm in arm with his newly acquired family. To fight to fix what his nation had done to the world and to itself. To fight for love and peace instead of division and hate and destruction.

And wow is it a beautiful journey.

TL;DR - Zuko’s story is so powerful to those who are deconstructing and I love him so much! I also just enjoy doing character analysis hehe.

(I really love talking about ATLA, so if y’all want me to analyze other characters or even plotlines through a specific lens, feel free to submit an Ask and I will happily do so!!!)

(Also, quick ending note - this is just my personal experience with deconstruction! Other people’s retelling of their own deconstructions may be different from mine, and that’s totally okay!!)

[roborabbitart]

I have... complicated feelings on the revelation that wolfertinger666 was puppychan. I do want to say, though, that I don't like people claiming he was faking mental illness. It was very clear something was wrong, whether anything he said was faked or not. Mentally stable people do not make constant suicide threats or what have you, regardless of it was attention-seeking.

People with mental disorders, especially those from other marginalized groups, are going to be messy, sometimes dangerous, and twitter fame and infamy did nothing to help it, especially not right wing extremists targeting him. Yes, he was attention-seeking. Yes, he was toxic and problematic. Yes, his actions were awful. But there needs to be a level of understanding that people with severe mental disorders are going to do awful things sometimes. Hell, everyone does. I've burnt my fair share of bridges via panic episodes, and my actions weigh on me to this day. But these people need help, not further ostracization and isolation, beyond removing yourself from a situation that is dangerous to you, because they've also had awful things done to them, and their very own mind constantly fights against them. Accountability is important, but we need to be careful not to invoke the prison system we claim to despise.

DID/plurality is an especially messy thing. Memories and/or feelings of other identities can sometimes linger or be accessed, but that doesn't make it fake. From my own experience with plurality, which I do not bring up lightly, even if you remember your alter's actions, they still feel distant, like those of someone else. I see his recent apology as a genuine acknowledgement of his alter's actions and claiming and accepting those actions as his own, even if it feels disconnected to him. No apology is perfect, either. People can only articulate so well.

None of this is to say you need to forgive him, or interact with him, especially if you were affected. But it's been years. I believe he deserves a chance to atone, especially if we're to claim we support people with mental illnesses. Also, this is the tgirl tboy tranny faggot site, stop policing his queerness. We're not twitter and we're not the moderators.

That all said, keep an eye on him. I'm fully aware I may get burned for putting any trust in him again.

EDIT: Apparently he hasn't really changed much, if at all. He's still best avoided. Razzicetea pointed out his ongoing issues.

Parts of what I've said still stand. Claiming anyone's mental illness to be fake, policing queerness, and denying atonement and the opportunity to change on a broader scale are dangerous things. I do still think he deserved the chance to do better. But he ultimately didn't take it, and that's on him.

[ravenwitch45]

Why in Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel Stolitz seems to be the ONLY relationship with power imbalance that is not faring well?

Ozzie and Fizz - We don't even know if they have a romantic relationship, but they just work. They even can communicate with glances and both feel secure with their respective positions while openly showing they at least respect and at some point care for each other.

Charlie and Vaggie - The girls are very loving towards each other, Vaggie does her best wanting to support and protect her girlfriend and Charlie does her best to listen to Vaggie (even though she not always seems to do so) and let her feel she appreciates her.

And now Bee and Tex - They seem to be open with and trust each other, both being able to communicate properly when needed as they share interest in both partying and making sure the ones around them are ok.

Literally the only unbalanced relationship that that is as bad (in this case worst) than Stolitz are Valentino and Angel Dust, which doesn't count since we know they don't care for each other, it's just sex business. But like.... bruh.

Okay I'm skipping a few asks but I just want to get this done. I have seen this take go around since Queen Bee came out so I guess now is the time I give my two cents on it. In my humble opionion the short answer is trauma but long answer. Well let me cover all the other relationships you mention and tell you that it's far from a one to one comparison.

Bee and Tex, and Asmodeus and Fizz have the same very big thing to consider. That one is literally one of THE deadly sins, only Lucifer could rival there power and that's up for debate. Either way pratically noone can tell these guys what to do, who to date or how to feel. That is not a luxury Stolas and Blitz have. They have never had any protection from the system that is harmful to both of them, while Bee and Ozz are pratically above that system, and thus can protect their partners from it.

Charlie and Vaggie are a bit closer despite Charlie also being above the Goetias. But the one difference lies mainly in Charlie (We don't know much about Vaggie, sorry queen) Charlie, has left her toxic home life, she is still scarred from it, we know she is but she has left it and she is healing and trying her best. There aren't really any pressures weighing on them aside from the Hotel which is something they do together. Any problems they face are external to their relationship, not internal.

Stolas and Blitz on the other hand, man these two are pratically being crushed by the pressure on them.

Stolas is literally going through a divorce out of an abusive relationship while wanting to keep his daughter happy, AND fix his situation with Blitz which he was trying to do before, you know he was fucking kidnapped. So he's going through a divorce that is actively getting held back by the other side, managing parenting a child during that while also trying to fix his mistakes. Not to mention the truckload of trauma he must have from both Paimon and Stella.

Also let's be honest, noone fucking taught him how to manage a ACTUAL romantic relationship. He's like 36 and was locked in aforementioned abusive marriage for most of that. He's learning, and that's messy more often then not. Some first real partners are able to teach you and help you well enough, but Blitz has his own baggage, and he doesn't even recognize the relationship as anything other then sexual so he doesn't see the need even.

Blitz has, so many problems emotionally but also just, he doesn't recognize what he and Stolas have as a relationship. You cannot work on something you do not know is there after all. He has had awful expirience with love making him very closed off and filled with unhealthy coping mechanisms. Not to mention all the buisness that just, isn't related to Stolas.

You can have a lot going on but still have a relationship, but again, Blitz doesn't see it as one. He gets the book, that is all that he agknowledges that matters so far. Cause admitting that Stolas matters to him, that he wants him, that he wants to have a loving relationship with him specifically. Is terrifying to him.

Honestly I get the comparison on a surface level. Royal and lower class demon, I get the concept. But these are VERY different characters at the end of the day, so they are going to have different problems.

Blitz has had too many bad relationships, while Stolas has had none good, so these traumas and traits clash. I still ship them wholeheartedly, don't get me wrong but what I mean to say is that with the surrounding circumstances, there past experiences, these problems honestly make a lot of sense if you think about it specifically.

I Ship all these ships mind you, just throwing in my two cents as previously mentioned.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Aaa!! Since requests are now opened may I request Platonic! Bsf! gojo with a reader whose on her period? Thank you for your time-! 💗💗

-💗💗 anon

Okkkkaaaay! Let’s try this out, shall we! I happen to be on my period too so this is perfect! Sorry, my writing is kinda messy now but hope you don’t mind!

Platonic! Best Friend! Gojo Satoru

“Dokushaaa~!” A sudden excited yet familiar voice rung out from behind you as you jolted in fright and turned around at the feeling of a strong hand placed on your shoulders. Your temporary concern faded quickly as you laughed wholeheartedly at the big goofy smile of your best friend, Satoru

His reflective black shades lowered enough to show off those beautiful otherworldly blue eyes as they glared at you. He could tell something was up with you, the way you wobbled at random, the way you flinched as you sat down. Satoru kept track of his best friend throughout the day and he was curious on why you seem so sensitive

“Satoru?” You asked softly, trying your best to ignore the painful squeezes of your abdomen as you saw Satoru smirk and tilt his head at your very subtle flinches from the pain. Your cramps were getting quite bad as very sharp yet heavy jabs coursed through your system

“I heard something’s wrong so I figured I’d come see what’s up. So give me the scoop, what up?” Satoru casually asks, one of his hands slid down your shoulder as his smirk seemingly couldn’t disappear. His snowy white hair fluttered in the wind as he looked down at you, you’re much shorter than him. “I’m… fine” You managed to muscle out in a half-fake cheerful tone as Satoru rolled his eyes in disbelief at your remark

“Hmm~ Okay, and I’m the king of curses” Satoru answered back in almost instant, running a hand up your shoulder and onto your head to give you pats. You pout madly at your best friend’s teasing, you simply hated how he treated you like some little kid. “I said I��m fine!” Satoru’s bright beam suddenly dropped for the first time today as he took his hand off your head to keep staring into your eyes, his gaze firm and almost going through you like laser beams. “You’re hurt, don’t lie to me”

Satoru’s gorgeous six eyes could easily sense your pain, he just needed to get it out of you. As your best friend, he cares a lot for your happiness and your health, and it hurt him that you seemingly don’t trust him enough to tell him about your issues. “I…” You sigh in defeat as you eventually wrap your arms around his waist and hug him. Satoru jumped in shock, he wasn’t use to sudden affection as his hands hesitate to touch your smaller back

“Don’t worry about me, Satoru. I’m just on my monthlys” Satoru’s shit-eating grin returned to place with his face glowing in relief as he threw his head back at your words. “Aaaa~ I knew it!” You rolled your own eyes as you sighed again at his classic cockiness and arrogance, drawing back afterwards as to avoid grooming his ego any further. “Cmooonn! We’re gonna go shopping!” Satoru remarked suddenly, grabbing your hand in a smooth sweep and twirling on his heels to begin walking forward

You smiled softly at his giddy laughter, feeling those sharp cramps soften quickly at the sight of Satoru’s excitement. Your best friend was such a goofy jokester and you adored it, how could you say no to him?