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#breezy babbles
breezy-cheezy · 3 months
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@forwantofacalling here's an ATTEMPT....angular honse.
(tbh I've been told I draw really round faces ALOT so it's hard for me to. See it. You do get messier blockier shading tho so WOO)
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breezycheezyart · 3 months
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28, babyyy 🥳🎂
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cowboysteph · 2 years
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i am not in statistics rn mentally i am here
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and i am watching some kids be amazed by those boats and small dogs being walked. manifesting this
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ghostsinthecellar · 25 days
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I miss frisbeeeee
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cupids-chamber · 1 year
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— " MR . HEADMASTER ? " Slightly suggestive content / gender neutral reader
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He coddled into your neck, snuggling deeper into your embrace; a dazed sigh escapes the man as he grasps at your body, binding himself into your embrace. You could feel his body relax within your arms, warmth radiating off of one another. Slowly you reached out, running your hands up his torso and up to his neck, the touch lingered on his skin, even though the clothes everywhere you touched radiated with warmth; his eyes widened as you gently pulled at his collar. A cheeky grin overlapped your features, as you took in, just how affected he is with your subtle actions.  
His breath hitched as you lightly grazed your fingers through his hair; carefully you tighten your grasp and tug him back using his hair. The action resulted in him releasing a whine; in protest all the while the two of you come face to face. Taking in his flustered features, you let out a breezy chuckle, if you hadn’t known any better you would’ve sworn he had gotten redder than before. 
Softly you made use of your free hand, lifting his face up, slowly pulling his face closer to you. You leaned down causing the two of your foreheads to touch, you watched as his eyes widened slightly and he began babbling some sort of nonsense you’d rather not pay attention too. It didn’t take long before you leaned down and settled the distance between one another. 
Swallowing his whines, you carefully analyzed how he came undone in your grasp, how even the bare touch of your fingertips against his skin could rile him up, so easily. You took in all the small details before letting him go. He struck you with a confused look, his face flustered with a look of slight annoyance and displeasure at the abrupt pause; you couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t you have work to finish, Mr. headmaster?”
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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crystalitecloudie · 11 months
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It's 4 am and I know I should be asleep... BUT I HAD A SAHSRAU IDEA (specifically cult!au with creators and stuff) AND I CAN'T IGNORE IT
This is gender neutral btw
EDIT: here is the link to part 2
Imagine...
You first descend into this world as the player, simply falling asleep in our world, and waking up in theirs. You wake up in Jarilo-VI, specifically in the bountiful snowy landscapes outside Belobog. However, at first, you believe it to be simply a vivid dream.
This is because when you touch the snow, it feels lukewarm to you. In fact, you are simply in flowy clothes (dress, shirt and pants, doesn't matter). You're dressed for a breezy summer picnic, not the harsh, unsurvivable winters of the Eternal Freeze.
But that does not stop barefoot you. You simply do not feel the cold, and it does not affect your body in turn.
The fragmentum monsters also pay no mind to you. They do not actively try to befriend you, but extended periods of time around them does not corrupt your mind like a mere mortal's would. You simply co-exist together with them.
However, after months of living in the Eternal Freeze, you have come to realize this is not a dream. You have yet to realize you are in the world of Honkai Star Rail, and are simply living a peaceful and voidous life.
That is... until Sampo finds you. He asks you to hide him, and when guards approach you, you have been so detached from human civilization that you are barely able to make conversation. You think in full, clear sentences, but your words stumble out like that of a child learning to walk and talk. They are accusing you of helping a criminal, along with three others that you know to be Stelle, March 7th, and Dan Heng. However, you certainly don't let on any clue that you know these people.
You're smarter than that.
And with your babbling like a child, Gepard and the other guards quickly assume that your mind, likewise, is also dumb and toddler-like. Innocent and naive. And as you are led into the city of Belobog's overworld, you realize that you are okay with this. You are a pretty, innocent babbling face, and appearing so allowed you to get away with quite a few things.
For example, when the trio of friends was chased into the underworld, you were not faced with similar charges. Instead, Cocolia forced you into a room in her palace, saying something about how the creator deserved the utmost respect.
You didn't really understand why you were being locked in a room and not allowed to leave, but if it meant free food and all the toys in the world, you could not care less. Humans were interesting creatures anyhow.
Even when you came to understand that this was not a simple Isekai, you simply wondered how the Supreme Guardian knew of your divine heritage. You had planned to keep it hidden for much, much longer... but alas.
I would write more but just seriously need to go to bed istg
Just credit me if you use this concept I guess idk I'm tired
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rustedhearts · 10 months
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sentimental reasons (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)
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summary: sunday afternoon musings in autumn.
uses she her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ the king of the ring ✶
tags: pregnant!reader, fluff, that’s about it.
sentimental reasons - nat king cole
hawkins, indiana, october 20th 1996
“I wonder if she’ll have my eyes.”
“Hmm. I hope.”
Steve’s lashes tickled the tip of your finger as it delicately scaled the soft tissue of his eyelid. His lip quirked, nose twitching when you came to trace the slope of it: bent sideways by brutal fists barreling into cartilage. But once, it was smooth and straight. No matter how crooked or left-leaning it was these days, you still found it handsome.
“Hope she doesn’t get stuck with that,” Steve snorted, and you frowned as you smoothed your thumb over the swollen bridge. “Hope she has her mama’s.”
Steve lifted his hand from where it rested on your stomach to bop your nose. You smiled, fingers pushing through the long tresses framing his face. You had been reclining on your back for a few hours now, late-term pregnancy responsible for consistent exhaustion and sore ligaments. It felt like the whole of you existed in the front, and sometimes you worried you were walking on a forward slant.
The house smelled like the slowly-browned roast your mother brought you, warming in the crockpot; the sweet aroma of brown sugar carrots and the bitter snap of celery. From your open window: damp earth and the musk of goldenrod leaves. It smelled like home.
Cheek pressed gently to your stomach, chapped hands feeling for flutters and kicks, massaging your aches through a faded, stretched-out tee: Steve. He smelled like a morning Marlboro—faded and nipped away by the wind—and the woodsy vanilla of your laundry detergent. He smelled like Steve. He felt like Steve: warm and firm and lovely. Cocooned between his half-pressed weight and the softness of the comforter, you felt you could’ve lied there for the rest of your life.
You closed your eyes and listened to the leaves rustle in the afternoon. The distant babble of youthful laughter. The whoosh of rubber on asphalt at thirty-five miles an hour. The crunch of bike tires over the pile of leaves Steve raked and then left on the tree lawn so he could tend to you.
He heard your silence from the front yard. He felt your ache.
“It’s funny,” Steve murmured, eyes wide and alert, finger trailing a path down the roundness of your bump. “I never thought I’d be here. Never thought I’d have…another part of me. Like this.”
He flattened his palm to rub across your belly, spreading a blissful massage that had you shifting. Expelling a breezy sigh, you blindly tucked a patch of hair behind Steve’s ear. Soft, just-shampooed: vetiver and musk.
“She’s all ours, baby,” he whispered.
The room swayed in the stillness. Like being cradled in a lullaby, gently rocked to sleep by one dreamy, autumnal afternoon. You felt like you were floating, gently bobbing to the rush and recede of the sea.
"Kinda scary to think about," you returned a moment later, just as quietly. You peeped your eyes open to find Steve's face.
Smoothed into mindless relaxation, he watched his own hand lift over the mound of your bump. Back and forth, over the swell and down the valleys. His wedding band caught a spark of pale afternoon light: thick silver tungsten around his ring finger. Unbreakable. Irreplaceable.
Work got in the way of him wearing it often, but on long weekends like this—when you slipped away from the busy, sunny California life for a slice of small town America back home—Steve slipped the ring on and never took it off.
He liked seeing it on his hand. He liked hearing it clink with yours when you held hands at night. He liked seeing them together—your ring, his ring—and knowing: this was eternal.
"God I hope I don't fuck it up."
You tipped your head on the pillow, craning to find Steve. You gently scraped your nails over his scalp, watching them create gaps in his mop of hair.
"You won't," you cooed. "No more than all the other parents."
Steve's lips curled into a pursed smile, handsome and boyish. Your chest stuttered a moment.
"Thanks, angel. Think 'm just nervous," he sighed, words tight between his teeth with his chin pressed to your belly.
You shifted again, socked feet rubbing his sides. "Me too. My mom said she used to throw up just from nerves right before she had me, but I think I turned out alright."
He breezed into another grin, a scoffed laugh shooting from his mouth. "Yeah."
You twirled a strand of hair near his brow around your finger. It curled into shape, tickling his eye.
"Wonder if my mom was nervous with me," he whispered.
You took pause, scanning the surface of his face. His eyes flicked away from your stomach toward your own, and he instantly scoffed and shifted on his stomach.
"Ah, shit, sorry. That was—sorry—"
"Baby, hey," you awed, reaching down to cup his face. "Don't be sorry. It's okay to wonder."
Steve halted a moment. Staring at you, head risen from his place on your center body, eyes a little rounder and wider and laced with pleading. Softened and sweet, you flashed him a small, reassuring smile and scratched your nails against his scalp again. He slowly sank back down, rubbing his cheek against your clothed belly.
“‘Kay,” he murmured.
“Wanna talk more about it—“
“No, baby. Just…wanna talk about names.”
You giggled. “Names?”
You could see the coil of his mouth from here, how the side of his face lifted with the small quirk of muscle.
“Yeah. Been thinkin’ about what we’re gonna name little Harrington.”
Your heart swelled to double the size, aching in your chest. You could barely contain the burst of adoration blooming with a pulse.
“You have?”
Steve’s finger made a zig-zag trail on your belly again. “Mhm. So…let me see it.”
You blinked, brows etching together. “See what?”
Steve turned his head, hair dragging across your belly and flouncing from his face. “The notebook.”
You clapped your hands together with a giddy grin. You’ve kept a notebook of baby names since your first sonogram. You knew you were getting ahead of yourself, and there were chances the pregnancy wouldn’t stick—but all you could think about was what you’d name your child. When you found out it was a girl, that you’d have a daughter, the notebook immediately became a place of scribbles and exclamation marks and highlighted stars.
Interestingly enough, when you started to show a bump beneath your clothes and required more assistance for daily tasks, Steve swapped roles with you as the worrier. He helped you up and down stairs, poured your cereal, made you smoothies, cut your steak, and did his best to do the cleaning exactly the way you did it.
Steve was terrified you’d lose the baby, and that it would be all his fault.
For some reason, naming the baby felt like “jinxing it” to him.
“Really, you wanna see it?” you squealed, capturing your lip between your teeth.
Steve chuckled, a deep, grumbling sound that shuddered through you. “Yeah, baby.”
“Okay good, because I can’t get up.”
Steve chortled, shifting on his stomach to press a kiss to your belly, wide hands spanned on either side. He wiggled off the bed and headed toward the door, rounding the corner toward the library room.
The Hawkins house, made the Harrington residence circa 1994, had a gorgeous, oak-shelved room full of first editions and signed copies. Steve spared no expense when it came to your little corner of the house, where he often found you curled up in the window seat scribbling in a journal, or scanning a book. You had a desk against the wallpapered wall, where a type writer from 1935 found at a flea market in Virginia sat with every intention of good use. Steve hated the sound of your clacking, but you said the sound was “transcendent.”
Steve padded into the room, blanketed in a pale grey darkness as the sky muddled with rain clouds. The window came to a peak in a rounded arch, wet with old rain drops from last night’s shower. Collections of leaves from the oak tree looming in the yard congregated on the glass in groups of yellow.
He found the notebook on the desk beneath your piles of paper, all full of ink. Steve fought the urge to filter through it as he returned to the bedroom.
You struggled to sit yourself up, wobbling on your palms like doing the crab walk. Steve flung the notebook toward the bed and rushed to your side, hands at the ready.
“Baby,” he huffed, hoisting you toward the pillows at the headboard, which he fluffed adamantly as you settled back. “Wait for me.”
Your eyes rolled, though you were already out of breath. “I had it.”
He shot you a pointed look through narrowed brows, and fumbled for the notebook at the edge of the mattress. He settled beside you, and as the air followed his motions, you caught whiffs of damp soil from his time outside this morning.
“Okay, open it,” you insisted, voice wavering with delight.
Steve flipped the spine open, revealing the first lined page of paper with your familiar writing.
“Jesus Christ, honey,” Steve drawled, pulling the notebook back an inch to take it all in. His eyesight had been slipping for the past year and a half.
He needed glasses, but refused to wear them.
Cheeks swelling with warmth, you tipped your head over to get a peek of your work. “I had a lot of ideas.”
"And they're...alphabetized," Steve commented, tone thick with amusement.
"Obviously."
Steve scanned the list of names, eyes shuttering half-closed and popping back open like a camera lens. The ones he didn’t like got a screwed up face in response. Steve had a headache by the time he got to the fourth page, and the names weren't stopping.
Only few caught his eye: Alice, Caroline, Catherine, Eloise, Emma, Lily, Josephine, Jane, Winnie.
As he continued to scan, he found himself pairing the names with his own surname. Alice Harrington, Catherine Harrington, Lily Harrington. None had the ring he thought they would.
"Do you have a favorite?" he asked, flipping pages again.
Resting your head on his shoulder, you gently skirted the pads of your finger over the warm skin of his forearm. You trailed them to the bone of his knuckle, feeling the purple veins protruding beneath the flesh, plumped from overexertion.
"Mhm," you hummed. "But I don't want to sway you."
Steve turned his head, lips brushing your temple. "It's Jane."
You lifted your head so quickly that it knocked Steve's chin, and he tongued away the pain with a wordless grimace as your face bloomed with warm thrill. You gazed at your husband in delightful wonderment.
"How did you know?"
"It had five stars next to it."
You giggled, warmth increasing. "Oh."
"And," he added, head cocking to pop a kiss on your cheek. "I remember you mentioned that name before. Back when we were still dating, talkin' about kids. You said you always loved the name Jane, and if you ever had a girl, that would be your top choice."
Looping your arm around Steve's, you squeezed him close and nuzzled his neck. "Oh, Steve, you are so hot right now."
Steve's laughter was sharp and surprised, and he snapped the notebook closed to toss it aside. Hands free and desiring your touch, he gently pulled at your legs until you reclined flat on the bed again.
"I know."
Mounting over you with an agreeable and cautious space between his body and your bump, he pressed a gentle pepper of smooches to your face. You ran your hands across his chest, playing with the silver chain around his neck, thin and linked.
"So...Jane it is?"
Steve pulled back, eyes flicking between yours. His features were soft, a sharp contrast to the scars and bruises they regularly carried. He brushed the back of two fingers across your brow, guiding your hair away.
"Jane it is, my love."
♡ ♡
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moronkombat · 6 months
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Hc for Raiden with reader who’s kung Laos sister and they have a secret relationship?
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Despite being Kung Lao's sister, Raiden had become romantically attracted to her until he was a young adult. He knew her when they were little but never really grew close to her
It wasn't until much later that Raiden began to feel attracted to her. It when he saw her properly dresses in something light and breezy with her hair down and flowing that he stopped dead in his tracks
Raiden's eyes lit up with her shine and his jaw dropped, he felt he gazing right at the sun and he suddenly feels very shy around her
Kung Lao is a protective older brother and constantly chases off any suitors who try to earn her fancy, however, he never did with Raiden because he never suspected Raiden to try anything
Well, unfortunately for Kung Lao, Raiden was smitten and badly at that. His eyes lingered in her direct and he felt himself warm under the collar when she spoke
He does not act on his feelings but is also very awkward at hiding them. His words stumble over each other, tumbling into a gargled mess while his cheeks flare pink
She would laugh so softly at this and Raiden would feel his entire face being embraced in flames but he didn't mind because her laugh was so pretty to listen to
Kung Lao's sister starts making an appearance in the cabbage fields more frequently, stopping by to give her brother and Raiden water but it soon becomes an excuse to see Raiden more without drawing suspicions from her protective brother
It's not that Kung Lao doesn't want his sister to find love, he is just hellbent on being the one to approve of them and he doesn't approve of anyone that tries to seduce his sister. He often beats them blue and purple to get them to stay away
She doesn't want conflict between Raiden and her brother so she decides to keep her interests in Raiden away from her fierce older
It is she who makes the first move. Raiden was walking her home one night and as he walked her to the door she turned to kiss him, leaving Raiden shocked and blushing
She tells him that he's a good kisser even though he was too stunned to reciprocate her gesture and Raiden just about trips over his words when responding
The interaction is cut short when Kung Lao opens the door and his sister plays it off well with Raiden standing there awestruck and babbling. Kung Lao teases him about having a fever and behind his back she would wink at Raiden knowingly
A secret affair starts after that with Raiden having to hide his feelings and relationship when around Kung Lao who remains completely unaware that his best friend and sister are a couple
There isn't much time for dates, not with so many prying eyes so most of the time spent together is after dark when everyone is asleep. It started with her sneaking out and showing up outside Raiden's window and now it is a nightly event
Raiden and her spend the entire night together, talking dancing and just enjoying each other. It is a very sweet and tender romance between the two of them and they love every single minute of it
Yes, they do not wish to constantly sneak around but they also don't want Kung Lao keeping them apart so they continue to have their moments within the shadows of night
In the day there are many stolen glances and "accidental" ghostly caresses while they long to see each other under a veil of stars. Will they be found out? Will Kung Lao discover his best friend is dating his sister? Only time will tell...
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callmeoncette · 10 months
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Do u take requests?
if u do can you make hobie brown x black reader where she beats the fuck out of this girl for flirting with her man. Like he clearly not interested, but she keeps insisting and then talks shit abt reader and reader goes ballistic on her ass.
thanks boo😘
Invited To The Cookout
Hobie x fem!black!reader
I remember someone mentioned they’d like to see him in a black southern cookout setting so I just mashed the two together if that’s okay with you!
Warnings: fighting, use of the n word, and a bit of suggestiveness at the end and I think that bout it
Hobie plucked away on his guitar, occasionally dodging a shirt or skirt, as he waited for you to get ready to go to one of your family’s many cookouts during the summer. He dressed casually. Black chucks, ripped up jeans with a few chains dangling, and a breezy band shirt because he learned very quickly that the southern heat in your dimension was nothing to mess with.
He smiled softly as he listened to you talk on FaceTime with your favorite cousin, who he mainly knew went by the nickname Bookie, trying to catch up on drama and coordinate your outfits. Your accent sounding thicker than normal as you two conversed.
“No cuz why my brother lie to that girl and tell her he was watching my baby? That negro ain’ watch shit but the back of his muthafuckin’ eyelids!” Your cousin said through the phone doing her hair
“He so weird for that like if you ain’ wanna go wit’ the girl just tell her…” you then smirked a bit and got closer to the camera, “I used to do that shit too tho’ I ain’t gonna’ lie.” You cackled like you’d list your mind. You then held up a large shirt and a pair of custom air force’s, “you think I should jus’ do these wit’ summ biker shorts? They go wit’ the colors Bee got on…” Bookie perked up, “oh my friend comin’?! HEY HOBIE!!” She yelled excited into the phone. He walked over to where you were and waved, the both of you laughing at her antics. She dropped her phone and the screen was black for a bit before she lifted it again to show her face along with a sweet baby girl’s, “Lala look! Its Hobie!” The baby babbling excitedly. You ‘awed’ softly at the sight before it was interrupted by your cousin pulling a confused face as she mumbled along reading something. Her face then fell as she groaned. Hobie quirked a brow while you asked her what was wrong, “Maggie bringin’ Tisha. You gon’ see yo bestie girl!” She laughed. Your face fell, “Stop playin’ wit’ me Bookie. You know I don’t like that girl.”
Hobie looked at your irritated face in confusion. You’d never mentioned the girl before but there’s clearly some history between the two of you. “Well alright…I’ll see you when you get at Granny’s girl. Khalil just got home from work so imma fix him a lil summ before we go.” Bookie said as her boyfriend walked behind her placing a kiss on the top of her head. You said your goodbye and hung up, laying your phone down a bit aggressively.
He stood behind you as silence took over. A pout on your face as you started doing your hair. His fingers drummed on his pants, “right, so who’s Tisha?” His voice is normally cool with a tinge of curiosity only you could pick up. You sighed a bit while rolling your eyes at the mention of her, “this bobble head bitch I can’t stand! Me and her been beefing since middle school.” you roughly brushed out your hair before he took the tool from your hands. He nodded, “the anarchist in me is screamin’ to tell you to fuck up the slag but I know you been wantin’ me to come to your ends and meet your fam’. ‘Ow bout we just avoid her and ‘ave a good time, yeah?” A soft kissed placed on your forehead, then your cheek, then your nose. You giggled lightly and pushed his face away, “okay! Okay fine! Now lemme hurry up an’ finish cuz we gotta pick up the drinks.” You say with a small smile.
———
You guys pulled up to your family home. The house wasn’t large and grand but the energy of it and the land made up for it. The yard and backyard was full of your relatives who waved and stared as you got out with Hobie. He looked around at everyone and let out a low whistle at the sight. He felt a familiar tingle and turn to see your cousin’s boyfriend holding their one year old, “it’s a lot right? I still be stuck everytime we come to one of these.” Khalil said with baby Jayla on his hip. Hobie hummed while he dapped the man up, “my guy!” He then squinted as he looked around, “she always said ‘er fam’ was bare big. Just didn’t think it was this big.” Khalil nodded, his locs swinging, “yeah they all hella cool tho’ ‘cept for like a few. [name] prolly explain that to you tho’ so…” the man shrugged lightly making his daughter laugh.
You walked up to the boys with Bookie laughing. She quickly held Khalil’s hand and turned to you, “c’mon girl. You know we gotta speak to Granny and Gran before anybody else.” She said to which you nodded knowing that in your family you spoke to the matriarchs first. It wasn’t really a rule, more so something you just did. You two led the way to the porch of the house where your great grandmother sat in a rocking chair with a thin blanket over her lap. She slowly turned to peer at your group and you spoke up first, “hey Gran.” She squinted with a frail smile, “hey, w-who you baby?” She asked, confused. “It’s [name], [mother’s name] daughter? I’m one of your great grandkids.” A bright smile come on her face as well as a look of realization. She nodded, “yes! I remember honey. How you been?” She asked but before you could answer her attention turned to Hobie who awkwardly stood beside you, “oh. He one my grands too?” You all laughed a bit. You shook you head and gently corrected her, “no Gran. He’s my boyfriend.” She nodded “I thought so. Too tall to be one of mine.” You giggled again and hugged her, “imma go see Granny now okay? It was good talkin’ to you.” You then led Hobie into the house while your cousin had her time with the woman.
“She’s a peach. ‘Ow old she anyways?” Hobie had thrown an arm over your shoulders and leaned down closer to you. You rolled your eyes, “you not supposed to ask a lady her age.” He pulled you closer, “yeah, but I didn’t ask the lady I asked someone else. Bit of a loophole, innit?” You sucked you teeth and pushed him with a laugh. “She’s 97.” He let out a low whistle, “97 years. That’s mad long!” He said in a bit of disbelief. You held the hand of the arm thrown over your shoulders and hummed in agreement walking to the kitchen where you knew your favorite woman was.
There she stood cutting up cheese for the macaroni while she hummed along with a song by Big Jay McNeely. Seeing her made you feel like a little girl again. How you always nagged her while she cooked and she’d answer your questions without missing a beat.
“Hey Granny.”
She looked up and broke out into a smile. She came over and hugged you tightly, “oh my sweet girl!” She pulled back and looked you up and down, “lemme get a good look atcha!” She hummed happily. Her eyes drifted to Hobie, “and who is this handsome young man?” A welcoming smile on her face. “This is Hobie Granny. My boyfriend.” He stuck out his hand, “it’s nice to meet yo-oh!” Your grandmother had yanked him into a tight hug. She pulled back up looked up at him, “oh so tall! My grandbabies pickin’ right might finally get some height in this family.” She squinted as she peered at his piercings, “all these piercings don’t that hurt sweetie?” You sigh and save Hobie pulling him back to your side, “Granny.” She waved you off, “I know. He’s still very nice on the eyes.” She smirked. She then looked back to Hobie, “now. Thought I heard an accent in there. Where you from?” “London ma’am.” He replied respectfully. She nodded, “okay, okay. Well I hope you hungry cuz I’m almost done in here.” “Smells bangin’. Can’t wait to eat it.”
Before anyone could say anything else Bookie came in, “Granny I brought your only great grand can I get the first plate?”
“Girl!”
———
Hobie sat down beside you at the picnic table eating. In front of the two of you was your cousin and her crew. As he ate he kept feeling someone’s eyes on him and every time he looked up it was the same girl. She was white from what he could tell, had black hair to her shoulders with her edges done, a septum, and over lined lips with lipliner and gloss combo you usually used. She would smirk whenever their eyes met but it never went further than that.
Once everyone finished eating you turned to him wiping the corner of his mouth, “want some dessert baby?” He smiled softly, “that’d be lovely, doll.”. Bookie stood with you also going to get some while Khalil went off to change Jayla leaving the punk alone. That is until the mystery girl sat herself beside him a little too close for comfort.
“Hey.” Her tone making him scoot over a bit.
“Uh hi.” He said before pulling out his phone hoping she wouldn’t continue talking but of course luck wasn’t on his side. “I saw you wit’ [name]…” she her name with a smidge of venom that he caught, “y’all like friends or summ?” He continued scrolling on his phone but answered her, “bit more than that, mate.” She sucked her teeth in annoyance, “what wrong wit’ you? She don’t let you have friends?”
“Not with bitches holding onto that one black grandma like their life depends on it.” Oh thank goodness for Bookie.
You stood beside her with a stank face and two bowls of banana pudding. You placed one in front of him and placed yours at your seat but chose to stand and stare at the girl.
“You know you don’t talk like that in real life Tisha.”
Oh fuck.
The girl stayed at her seat beside Hobie and rolled her eyes, “whatever girl. He ain’t yo nigga. Yours busy with that baby so worry ‘bout that!”
Everyone started taking notice of the discussion. Tisha’s friends, including a distant cousin of yours, coming over.
Bookie screwed her face up and almost lept across the table till Khalil swooped in, “mention my kid again and I promise you. He ain’t gon be able to keep me from you.” She growled.
You glared at the girl, “he ain’t hers but he mine and he clearly don’t wanna talk to you. I suggest you stop sayin’ nigga by the way before actual niggas tag yo head.”
“She’s part black…”
“Shut yo dumbass up Maggie oh my god!”
“I think he can speak for himself.” Tisha said snidely.
It happened so fast but it also felt like slow motion. Even with his spidey sense Hobie didn’t see the attack coming.
After her snide remark you promptly dragged Tisha from the table and commenced to beating dat ass! Like you really whooped that hoe! Walked that girl like a dog! Honestly you should be ashamed of yourself. Shame on you [name]. Shame! Why you do that girl like that?!
When you finally got dragged off of her by Hobie who whispered in your ear trying to calm you down she was just a mess on the ground. Her wig as gone, she was missing a sandal, she had holes all in her leggings, and as much as she tried to cover it she had a knot and black eye.
Everyone whispered around shocked before one of you uncles spoke up, “aight now. Someone get the girl up off the flo’. Get her on home.” He said as her friends came to her aid. He shook his head mumbling, “shouldn’t been talkin’ shit.”
———
You sat at the kitchen table hissing in pain, “ow! That hurts Hobes!” He sucked his teeth, “oi, pipe down Mayweather. It’s not that bad.” He said as he internally winced, putting bandaids on your fingers where your nails broke off too close. You pouted before looking at him as he carefully worked, “I’m sorry I did that.” The man snorted before actually full blown laugh. “What are you apologizin’ for? Did wha’ you had to do, yeah?” His tone is light and playful. He then smirked, “it was a bit hot too…” he kissed your hands as he placed the last bandage. You looked at him with low eyes, “oh yeah?” “Yeah…”
“Ouuuu y’all in Granny kitchen being nasty!”
“You have a whole baby??? Get out???”
“Okay but lemme get summ of that potato salad behind you before I go.”
“BOOKIE!”
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sincerelyamee · 4 months
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Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student
It all started on that late evening.
You were nestled comfortably in your dorm room, flipping through the heavy Encyclopedia of Water-Based Curses balanced on your knee. The leather binding creaked faintly as you turned each crinkled page, scanning the elaborate illustrations and lengthy descriptions. Your third bottle of mint chocolate milk sat sweating on the desk, the sugary scent mingling with old paper and worn wood polish.
Yes. That’s your definition of chill. After all, you were a jujutsu sorcerer, not fighting curses or having to run for your life totally counted as a chill evening. 
You enjoyed learning new things and you loved a quiet room. It was shaping up to be an excellent evening…
Until Gojo popped into your room. Literally. No knocking as usual. Screw this man and his teleport technique and his disregard for manners and politeness. A subtle displacement of air was your only warning. One moment your room was still and quiet, the next - a tall figure in a crisp black outfit and white hair beaming down at you.
“Spices! I’m going to Sendai. I’ll drop by Kikusuian. Want anything?”
Gojo called out, with his bubbly enthusiasm that never failed to make you cringe. 
You grimaced down at the pages in front of you.
Spices.
That stupid nickname had haunted you since your first month at the school after Gojo overheard a particularly colorful outburst of yours.
Seriously? You might be a little bit impulsive with your choice of language occasionally. But most of the time, you were the picture of decency and good manners. Gojo started it. Hakari and Kirara had adopted it with glee. And that’s how the nickname stuck. Soon, your real name was forgotten. Even your underclassmen called you Spices. 
Spices-senpai. How stupid is that? Now only Principal Yaga called you by your real name, and it’s all Gojo’s fault.
Oblivious to your sour reaction, Gojo leaned casually against your desk, cheerfully babbling on as usual:
“How about I get you your favorite, their Kikufuku mochi? The edamame ones, right? With sweet cream fillings?”
“You mean your favorite.” You corrected flatly.
“Details,” Gojo laughed, waving a dismissive hand. The movement sent a waft of oud and bergamot in your direction. “We both know I have impeccable taste.”
You sighed. Whatever. You were not one to say no to free food, so you nodded.
“Thanks, sensei.”
It’s a truth universally acknowledged, that Gojo Satoru was a glutton for sweet foods and drinks, and would absolutely steal anyone’s treats. That’s why as soon as he plopped down next to you, you immediately moved your mint chocolate milk to the other side, safe and sound from his grabby hand. The man might have just offered to buy you expensive mochi, but you would not sacrifice your mint chocolate milk. Never your mint chocolate milk.
Gojo pouted, like he thought it made him cuter:
“You have so little faith in me, my dear student.”
The best defense is a good offense. You gulped down your mint chocolate milk in one go, maintaining eye contact while at that. It caused him to chuckle. You truly were his most spoiled third year.
As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, you decided to ask:
“Why are you going to Sendai at this hour?”
Surely not just to buy you his favorite mochi?
“I just miss those Kikufuku mochi.” Gojo shrugged, throwing himself casually onto your bed. His weight made the old mattress springs creak in protest. “But I should also probably check on Fushiguro while I’m there. His mission got a bit messy.”
That got your attention.
“Fushiguro? What mission?”
“No big deal.” Gojo examined his nails airily. “Just a collection mission. Easy breezy.”
Your eyes narrowed in suspicion:
“Collect what?”
“One of the fingers.”
It took you a second to process what ‘finger’ he meant. When it clicked, you nearly crushed the empty milk bottle still clutched in your fist. You were pretty sure at least one of the blood vessels in your brain popped off. 
“You sent a first year to collect one of Sukuna’s fucking fingers? Alone?!” You exploded.
Gojo reached out and flicked the tip of your angrily flushed nose:
“Language, Spices.”
He’s trying to distract you, which was not going to happen. You were far too incensed to rein in your temper.
“Are you insane?!” You snapped. “I should have come with him. Anything Sukuna-related is NOT a one-man job!”
(Here's the link to AO3 if you want to read the whole thing.)
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breezy-cheezy · 3 months
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@grumpyoldsnake Thank you, you're very sweet!! and hhsdhgfkds THIS GOT SILLIER I was like what's the opposite of swoopy and round...
Isa: Box head man
Me: RIGHT
Stiffer thicker lines attempt too! closed smaller eyes and all too hehe
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breezycheezyart · 9 months
Note
Drawing fanart is NOT considered scabbing or crossing the picket line for the strike. Neither the WGA or SAG-AFTRA have asked people to stop drawing fanart, writing fanfics, or cosplaying (nor have they asked people to boycott the movies or cancel their streaming subscriptions). In fact, if you stop doing that or cancel your streaming subscription it will hurt the strike because the number decrease will show the studios that the unions don't have the numbers to justify what they're asking.
HKBlack made a long post about this as a member of a sister union of SAG-AFTRA (which is explained in the post).
https://www.tumblr.com/hkblack/723154209721171968/all-right-kiddos-buckle-up-cause-its-time-for?source=share
If you want to shift artistic focus because it's calling to you, then go for it of course! If you're doing it in fear of going against the strike, then that's misinformation you've been given.
Someone suggested in a post about how to support the strike during con season is to continually be vocal about supporting the strike, which you could do in your fanart posts as well. Something like, "These characters mean so much to me! I believe the writers and actors who gave them life deserve to be compensated fairly for the work they did!"
There is a lot of misinformation and confusion at the moment, and I just wanted to share these with you because I didn't want you to be scared about doing something wrong (which, again, you're not). You are also welcome to check out the WGA and SAG-AFTRA's official website for more precise information, and there are many other union members you can look up if you don't feel sure about what I'm sharing here.
Hope you have a good day
AYYO, ANON COMING IN THE CLUTCH!!
I actually just logged on because I finally got clarification on this topic! I was being cautious and avoided doing fanart for a bit just in case, but I have been made aware of the misinformation! And thank you for coming in anyways to let me know!!
The fanart is back on! 💜💜💜
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breezy141 · 9 months
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
───── ❝ breezys masterlist ❞ ─────
★ simon ‘ghost’ riley ~ call of duty
similarly stories {part one} {part two}
babbling
★ pedro pascal
never have i ever
anxiety
all yours baby
my clothes
insta
number 1. fan
idiots in denial
catching feelings {part one} {part two}
heart of glass
★ leon s. kennedy ~ residentevil
unfair
boss
★ bella ramsey
photoshoots are better with you
don’t you worry
★ abby anderson ~ thelastofus
the blues
i wanna be your girlfriend
women
moonlight
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
more to come ~
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names-for-alters · 2 months
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Hello one and all, alters and headmates! I am Charlie! I like to make lists! I also hoard names! Are you looking for a name? GREAT! You can send an ask and request a specific aesthetic or origin of name, or you can look at my list!
With that said…
…Cracks knuckles…
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Findo Tach Tails Flicker Tracer Kat Iris Blu Brick Arlo Sammy Artie Finn Stein Aleksandr Vora Olive Luna Nyx Cyrus Qrow Orian Cello Onyx Skye Grim Opal Dawn Azure Fish Bones Poppy Bronze Eggs Sparky Specs Snickers Trout Navi Bingo Chili Bandit Stripe Busker Socks Brandy Frisky Winston Lucky Chucky Bently Judo Rusty Max Honey Indie Calypso Striker Merle Moxxie Vex Ant Bugger Bee Spider Tails Hook Indigo Amber Coco Coral Scarlet Ivory Jade Ruby Emerald Chuck Loden Copper Hamelin Neo Shepard Cinnamon Visor Macalister Soul Hack Hiccup Flynn Rider Astrid Jay Raven Robyn Bolt Dagger Viper Tracer Cornwall Flock Sapphire Crystal Ghost Mochi Trick Catra Rose Raven Flip Chani Racket Red Crimson Dragon Runt Scotch Tellie Gator Croc Crow Goat Duck Creeper Kuma Jet Jeep Draco Poppy Sombra Raine Squish Spike Blaze Ender Drake Sandy MK PJ DJ CJ MJ King Creak Shadow Clay Dusty Miles Dart Willow Antonius Husk Moth Cypher Jin Yin Yang Daisy Gray / Grey Alistair Halo Angel Cake Fennec Fox Null Lull Bastion Lucky Sun Star Cosmo Tweety Vox Nerys Sonic Bark Birch Oak Cherry Blossom Peaches Velvet Shell Coffee Valley Fang Moot Redpath Pudding X V Jr Ether Fig Trunk Joy Frogger Snowflake Snowball Snow Jumper Racket Flare Vendetta Loonie Coin Six Eleven Tropica Stelina Mojave Ink Sud Fender Zero Pollen Wysteria Page Ozias Rex Tortch Buck Nickel Stripe Lynch Tramp Wolf Pup Tank Jhariah Kharma Zenith Sparrow Prism Lemon Mune Lamb Pyke Diamond Parker Graves Fizz Nugget Melody Tink Blight Fangless Ambress Vulture Eclipse Luka Bangle Constance Constantine Sommar Babble Clank Bobble Chipper Aidan Slate Tin Twire Zephyr Silver Misty Faunus Atlas Birdie Brook Cedar Chip Coal Daisy Ember Faye Fate Fern Flint Harmony Helios Ivy Junx Kit Lyria Phoebe Piper Lady Beacon Elos Rumble Ida Cross Zed Scootie Smidge Clauger Happy Sonny Hath Soldier River Song Clawtor Videl Legen Onen Chunk Reid Pop Cobra Cash Clover Saris Volante Donna Belladonna Gale Chopper Morphias Vidia Loft Kape Levi Licker Howl Dustin Newt Creek Breezy Polaris Blight Archer Sirius Warren Dream Goon Cookie Ranger Amity Jericho Viggo Besko Asra Alice Olaf Mossfeld Issic Missy Rascal Creasy Nonya Hex Pita Miguel Manuel Rayburn Daisy Dash Lucky Becky Steele Cylo Featherstone Kingston Netherfield Reacher Saltburn Quick Rubble Dust Brimstone Humble Ado Grover Norvanos Leshy Blade Cooper Calcium
Leo
Leonardo
Lebony
Silver
Linzier
Pearl
blackberry
Tatin
Bud
Raphael
Pebble
Mina
Linda
Oolong
Daeo/Dayo/Dao
Inco
Ketlyn
Risa
Ines
Lora
Flock
Lux
Rix
Reah
Destinty
Bet
Ange
Krixa
Lalien
Gloom
Bug
Rozy
Mars
Screech
Jenny
Robert
Patrick
Pierre Rosemary
Henderson
Mayfield
Sinclair
Sullivan
Hart
Solace
Daughtler
Stoll
Gatlin
Yearwood
Amos
Graves
Rothschild
Halley
Spektor
Presley
Redd
Blackwood
Notvletti
Valerie
Milo
Marian
Lychee
Aiden
Nova
Vel
Bel
Yuri
Puro
Pluto
Ramona
Angel
Nada
Shen
Mog
Hania
Udge
Kinetic
Kikos Wathel
Dupa
Sierre
Jimor
Teddy
coc
Scara
River
Shade
Foenem
Duck
Emily
Toast
Reunna
Ichigo
Rae
Sonic
MoonL
Lennus
cabaran
Marto
Leveer
Granite
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xhanisai · 10 months
Text
Heart
AO3
Pairing - Adrinette
Prompt - ‘Heart’
Summary -
Every single tear that burned into her skin was just a harsh reminder of how truly hurt her partner was, how truly he suffered in his gilded cage and just how he struggled with all those years of agonising solitude despite his mother being a part of his life once upon a time. Marinette vowed over and over again to love and protect Adrien with all her everything no matter what and no matter who dares to stand in their way.
He is her whole world and she would be damned if she were to fail to protect his pure heart and his beautiful, wonderful smile.
~(x)~
.
.
.
The second that she was unravelled from her superhero attire, fresh tears ran down Adrien's face once again and the boy couldn't help but pounce and grab her in his arms as if he's finally found her after decades and decades of searching. He whispered her name, her real name, over and over again like a prayer come true, clutching her shirt like a lifeline and burying his face into her neck and soaking her soft skin with his tears. Marinette didn't even falter, quick to hold him back firmly and just as lovingly. Her princess-like fingers ran through his hair and she pressed multiple kisses on his head in the area between where his faux feline ears would usually rest. On that spot, she vowed to teach his horrible excuse of a father a lesson that he'd never forget for making the love of her life break down and cry to the point where she had to save her pauvre Chaton from multiple Akuma butterflies that wanted to latch onto his broken heart like a parasite. That wretched man will wish he was never born. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I love you, mon Chaton. I'll always love you. It's okay...it's okay." She continued to hold him, finally being able (finally given the chance) to be her partner's rock. She took the time to internally map out the way his body perfectly curved into hers, how the usually strong and proud bones and muscles felt so frail against her skin with every quiet sob, how his golden skin took on a flushed sakura hue because of the emotional turmoil he was in. Every single tear that burned into her skin was just a harsh reminder of how truly hurt her partner was, how truly he suffered in his gilded cage and just how he struggled with all those years of agonising solitude despite his mother being a part of his life once upon a time. Marinette vowed over and over again to love and protect Adrien with all her everything no matter what and no matter who dares to stand in their way. He is her whole world and she would be damned if she were to fail to protect his pure heart and his beautiful, wonderful smile. . "Marinette?" Adrien hoarsely murmured after some time of silent crying and cuddling, blotchy-red face timidly hidden in her warm chest whilst they lay on his bed as she held him close. Like they've been lovers for thousands and thousands of years. His arms remained wrapped around her waist longingly and their legs were tangled to the point where they were losing feeling in the limbs. So, Adrien resettled himself on top of her, straddling her hips but still crushing his frame into hers like his alter-ego's felineness. "Hmm?" She continued to tenderly smooth her fingers through his hair, stroking the soft blond locks whilst her other arm pressed his head close to her heart which allowed his fresh, breezy scent to surround her. "Did you really mean it?" For the first time in a while, he pulled his head back just to peer up at her. His dim emerald greens were still shimmering with tears and was just so sad and so heartbroken, Marinette felt her own heart shatter. "Mean what?" She leaned up, pressing her forehead on his, all with a soft and reassuring smile. "That...that you love me? I mean! It's okay if you only said that to make me feel better- you don't have to answer the question. I'm so sorry I asked. You're already doing so much and I-" He didn't get a chance to finish his babbles as she pressed his face back into her chest again, squeezing him tight just so he could feel (and finally understand) the sheer love and worship she held for this boy. That there were no words in any dictionary in the entire world that could ever convey just how much he means to her. "Adrien...see how fast my heart is beating? It's all because I love you so much. So if you ever have any doubts or questions or even need some reassurance, just listen to my heart." One more time, tears ran down his face as he carefully listened to her fierce but very fast heartbeat against his ear. His trembling hands trailed down the burning skin on her arms and then one crept under her pyjama shirt and placed itself on the spot directly above her heart. He felt the way the organ immediately sped up under his touch, making his own heart sing with all the affection and devotion he held for her too. He was loved. He was loved so, so very much by his Lady.
"I love you too, Marinette. Always."
.
.
.
~(x)~
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env0writes · 1 year
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Forever Breezy 2.20.23, "Vault of Knowledge"
Tall is the ladder to ascend this library Shelves full of knowledge vaulted Lock step and key such secrets carry Ascension leaves minds babbling assaulted Out past the sapling, waxen words Guide ever closer to crumbling madness Eden’s gardens succumb to ash and seed for birds Fraught to utter smallest cheep, lest down crumbles the mess Too soon are spines broken from their flesh (Pre)arrange to seek the elders guidance Should ash soaked soil, seek dawn afresh Pooless, reflect, without a silvered mirror to entrance For at the pinnacle, (mastery is thought) fraught with knowing Foolish is the master, to claim all knowledge known The ladder, tower too, to climb upward always going Stop for but a moment, look up, and learn what’s shown Where storms(and danger) swirl With darker outwild worming thoughts If only answer would so readily unfurl Cry out (disrupt the librarians peace) let rules be for naughts
@env0writes C.Buck Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!
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