#I wanna have more precise coloring

[cowboykento]

you wake up early one morning to make coffee for you and cowboy!kento for when he returns from the morning work. he smiles when he sees you in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his t-shirt that reaches just past your butt.

“g’mornin’ pretty girl.” he says, stepping into the kitchen.

“good morning, ken,” you reply with your own smile. “was about to make breakfast, you’re in sooner than i thought you’d be.”

he hums, pulling you in close before you have a chance to hand him his coffee, kissing you passionately. it starts slow, like the morning, but then his tongue slips into your mouth, hungry for more.

“that’s okay, darlin’, was thinkin of having somethin else for breakfast, anyway,” he replies with a smirk that’s too handsome for his own good.

you giggle, “oh? what’s that, handsome?”

his hands slip below your ass, picking you up and placing you on the counter gently, returning his lips to yours.

“i think you know, sweetheart,” he answers, his hands rubbing along your hips, pleasantly surprised to find that you’re not wearing any panties. “mmm, you must, you made it even easier for me, didn’t ya? such a sweet girl. my sweet girl,” he says, kissing you again before pulling you to the edge of the counter, pushing his t-shirt up enough to reveal your pussy.

he gets on his knees, ever reverent of you, and kisses along your leg, sending shivers up your spine. your fingers find their place in his straw-colored hair, pushing it away from his face.

“y’gonna let me enjoy my breakfast, darlin’?” he looks up at you, pleading in his eyes.

your ankles cross behind his back as you nod, biting your lower lip in anticipation.

“good girl,” he mutters before delving in, licking a stripe through your folds.

your grip in his hair tightens immediately as he finds your clit, kissing and sucking it gently. you let out a moan, tossing your head back in pleasure.

his tongue is all over you—licking from your clit to your entrance and sucking up all of your juices like it’s the nectar of the gods.

“always taste so good for me, princess,” he mumbles against your cunt, too starved to pull himself away for even a moment.

you pull at his hair even harder, urging him on as if he needed it. he moans against your clit, sending vibrations through your body and forcing a moan of your own out from your lips.

he sucks your clit with precision, his fingers making their way to your hole, slipping one in and curling it up to find the spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“oh, fuck, kento, oh my god,” you moan loudly.

your perfect moans only motivate him further as he picks up his pace, licking your clit and fucking you with his finger.

he slips a second in, drawing another pretty whine from you, and he thinks this is the closest he’s ever gotten to heaven. the sun pools in from the windows, casting light on you like a goddess.

“so, so gorgeous, angel,” he says, fucking you faster, desperate to taste your release on his tongue.

“fuck, kento,” you pant, “i’m close, i’m close—gonna cum!”

your words make him groan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl. cum all over my tongue.”

his words are all it takes for the coil in your tummy to snap, your release pouring out of you and right onto kento’s eager tongue. he doesn’t let up his ministrations, in fact he picks up the pace yet again, fucking you desperately through your orgasm.

when the shocks and shudders of your release subside, kento pulls off you begrudgingly, but not before placing another kiss on your cunt.

when he stands up again, you pull him in for a kiss, and you can taste yourself all over his lips and tongue. your release shines in his chin and nose, and his hair is a mess from your pulling, but you think he’s never looked so handsome.

he kisses you just as hungrily, like he’ll never get enough of you, when you finally pull away for a breath.

“wanna go back to bed? let me return the favor?”

he grins at you before his hands slip back under your thighs, picking you up and taking you back to his bed for another round.

you have to make another pot of coffee when you’re finally done, but you’d make a million more to spend every morning like this with kento.

sfw cowboy!kento masterlist

nsfw cowboy!kento masterlist

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento #cowboy!kento🤍

[gubsbuubs]

The Sign

Pairing: Chip Taylor x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3.5K

Warnings: Drinking, fluffly smut, creampie.

Summary: As Chip sought an escape from his troubles, a vibrant bar sign beckoned to him. Intrigued, he stepped inside, not knowing what the night had in store for him.

Preview: “Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

A/N: I love Chip so much, just wanna hold him in my arms.

I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

MASTERLIST

The bar had settled into a quiet hum, with a scattering of regulars lounging at their usual spots, half-engaged in a random game flickering on the TV. I seized the opportunity to clean up the sticky residue left behind by a night of beer spills and colorful cocktails, wiping down the counter with rhythmic precision.

A gentle ding echoed through the air as the entrance door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. He took a seat on a stool, keeping his gaze fixed downward. The words spilled out in a wearied tone: "Give me some Jack on the Rocks, please."

Responding to the request, I pivoted towards the top shelf, snagging Jack Daniels. With the clink of ice cubes, I poured a generous amount, recognizing from his demeanor that he could use it.

“There you go," I offered, sliding the drink across the freshly cleaned surface.

Only then that he lifted his head.

His eyes, a rich shade of brown, were captivating yet carried an air of melancholy and fatigue. As they met mine, I couldn't help but notice the subtle weariness etched into his features. A slightly busted lip hinted at a rough patch he might have navigated recently.

The man, who had just walked into the bar, possessed a unique kind of beauty. His eyes, reminiscent of warm mahogany, held stories untold beneath their gaze. The strong bone structure framed a face that seemed to wear the weight of experiences, and his soft and pink lips betrayed a vulnerability hidden behind a worn exterior. In his presence, there was an intriguing blend of strength and fragility—a captivating allure that set him apart in the dimly lit atmosphere of the bar.

His response, a quiet "thanks," hung in the air, leaving an air of mystery around him. Intrigue danced in the atmosphere as I observed him. There was a certain beauty in his quiet gratitude, a sense of vulnerability that added layers to the enigma before me.

His appearance struck a chord, akin to that of a lost puppy finding its way to unfamiliar territory. Despite his undeniable beauty, there was an air of solitude, a silent plea for understanding. As he sat there, seemingly adrift in his thoughts, I couldn't help but feel a tug of compassion, a desire to unravel the story behind those captivating eyes.

“Rough night, hun?” I queried, hoping to ignite a bit of conversation.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he chuckled in response, his eyes briefly meeting mine before lowering again. There was a weight in his words, a heaviness that hinted at the struggles he might be carrying within.

I leaned on the counter, wanting to offer a sympathetic ear. “Well, you’re in good company. People say a bartender is like a makeshift therapist. We listen, pour drinks, and hope things get a little better.”

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said, taking a gulp of his drink.

"Oh...Yeah...that's more than okay. I'll be over there if you need anything." I spoke in a quiet voice, straightening up as if preparing to leave him to his thoughts.

Maybe he just wanted to be alone.

"Hey, no, no, no, stay. I… I´d really appreciate the company," he said, giving me the sweetest half-smile, his look softening.

 The silence embraced us for a bit, before I decided to chime in again.

“So… I’ve never seen you around here before.” I leaned in once more, offering a different approach to the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm not from around here. Just passing through"

"Yeah, I knew I didn’t recognize your face. Small town, you know,” I remarked with a grin. “Do you have a name, or are you going for the mysterious stranger vibe?”

The hearty laugh that echoed from his chest illuminated his features with a small yet captivating smile. He was undeniably attractive; his grin seemed to brighten the entire room.

“It’s Chip, Chip Taylor,” he offered, his eyes carrying a spark of amusement.

"Nice to meet you, Chip. I'm Y/n," I offered, reaching my hand across the counter for a handshake. His grip was firm, yet his touch remained gentle, and the warmth in his hands felt inviting.

"Well, well, Mr. Taylor, what brings you to this little slice of paradise?" I asked as I poured a drink for myself.

He chuckled. "Honestly, I don't even know. I just got in the car and drove. When I saw the sign, I decided to come in.”

I jokingly said, "Guess the universe knew it; you needed a sign—literally."

We both laughed, and he agreed, "Well, I guess signs do work in mysterious ways."

“So, are you planning to stay for a couple of days, or is this just a one-night stop?" I inquired.

"Honestly, I don't even know. I didn't plan anything," he responded with a shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression.

"Sounds like someone will be sleeping in their car tonight," I joked, a playful smile accompanying my words.

"Well, it might just come to that. But who knows?" he said, offering me a smile as he took another sip of his drink.

As the night progressed, Chip and I found ourselves engrossed in conversation, our words flowing effortlessly. He proved to be easygoing and open, making the dialogue naturally enjoyable. Through our exchange, I learned that beneath the busted-out exterior, Chip was genuinely a sweet guy.

Sadly, it became evident that a girl had definitely made a number on his pretty little head, and from what I could gather, that seemed to have left him with a sense of being lost and lonely, undeserving of love.

As Chip shared tales about his ex-girlfriend, Liza, was her name, it was pretty clear that he had experienced a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth and kindness he exuded clashed sharply with the pain inflicted by someone he had once cared deeply for. Each word seemed to carry the weight of a past filled with unsuspecting toxicity.

Listening to him, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for this beautiful soul who had been blindsided by the harsh realities of his last relationship. His genuine belief in love and commitment made the way she treated him more repulsive. I wondered how someone could overlook the treasure that Chip was—someone who radiated sweetness and cared for others with a sincere heart.

Yet, despite the wounds he carried, Chip maintained a certain innocence in his recounting. It was as if he couldn't fathom the depths of the toxicity until it consumed him. My heart ached for him, and I found myself wanting to shield this gentle soul from further harm.

As the other customers gradually left, Chip willingly joined me in tidying up the tables and washing the remaining cups. Amid laughter and shared stories, we closed the bar together, his presence a comforting company that made the tasks feel lighter.

"It might be your lucky day, Taylor," I told him as I watched him close the metal guards at the front.

"How so?" He asked in a gentle tone as he rose to his feet.

"Well, you helped me a lot tonight, and I just feel like I should return the favor. So, how about you crash at my place?" I offered; it was the least I could do for him. “It’s that one, right across the street.”

"Oh, Y/N, no way. I don't want to step into your space like that." He held his hands up as if unsure about accepting the invitation.

I grabbed his arm as I started to walk to my house. "Hey, it's okay, I insist. I bet my couch, although very old, is still more comfortable than your car." I laughed.

I noticed a hesitant yet grateful smile forming on his lips, a silent acceptance of the offer.

“Come on, Chip, you can even take a shower and change into some spare clothes I have lying around.”

“They’re my brother's. He has some spares at my house for when he stays here to help me out with the bar,” I offered a small explanation.

"And your boyfriend won’t mind me wearing his clothes?" His tone held a curious edge, a playful note that suggested a mix of light-hearted banter and genuine interest. There was a subtle spark in his eyes, as if he was testing the waters, teasing to see my reaction.

"His clothes or not, you're letting a stranger stay at your house. I bet he won't like it." He was now fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for me to open the door.

“Chip,” I laughed at his awkwardness, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

As we stepped into the house, I motioned for Chip to get comfortable.

“Can I get you anything?” I offered it in a sweet tone.

"I'm good, thank you,"

I grabbed some spare clothes for him. While he freshened up in the main bathroom, I decided to take a quick shower in my room.

Half-expecting to find him already asleep as I approached the living room, the soft glow of the lamp revealed Chip, not asleep but comfortably seated on the couch, engrossed isome random show playing on tv.

"You clean up nicely. Feeling better?" I asked.

Dressed in a white shirt and comfortable sweats, he seemed at ease.

As I studied his demeanor, it was evident that the stress had lifted off his shoulders. His posture became more relaxed, and the subtle lines of tension that had etched themselves across his face seemed to ease He exuded a sense of calm and peace, looking remarkably beautiful on my sofa. His lip, no longer marred with dried blood, revealed a gentler man, and the earlier signs of roughness had disappeared. He looked not just good, but like he belonged here.

Chip looked up with a soft smile on his lips.

"Much better, thanks to you," he replied.

“Anytime,” I said, returning his smile. “So, do you usually end up in random towns, or is this a first?”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s not a regular occurrence, but life has its surprises. Sometimes you just go with the flow.”

“Must make for some interesting stories,” I commented, settling onto the couch.

“You have no idea,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

As our conversation meandered through the night, Chip’s gaze softened, and a more vulnerable side emerged. He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, his eyes occasionally dropping to his hands.

“You know...” he hesitated, “Meeting you, it’s been a bright spot in a bit of a rough patch.”

I smiled, sensing a genuine sincerity in his words. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” I admitted.

He sighed, a mixture of nervousness and contemplation in the air. “Can I be honest?” Chip looked up, meeting my eyes with a touch of uncertainty.

“Of course,” I encouraged, curious about the turn in our conversation.

He shifted on the couch and said, “I wasn’t expecting to feel this… comfortable. It’s like I’ve known you longer than just tonight.”

The vulnerability in his expression tugged at my heart. “Sometimes, connections happen unexpectedly,” I replied, choosing my words carefully.

Chip nodded, his eyes reflecting gratitude. “Maybe it’s the universe giving me a sign.”

There was a subtle shift in the air, an unspoken understanding between us. As I met his gaze, I noticed a hint of longing, a desire for connection that went beyond words.

He hesitated, then, with a shy smile, he said, “Would it be too forward if I said I’d really like to kiss you right now?”

I felt a warmth spreading within, appreciating his honesty. “Not too forward at all,” I admitted, mirroring his smile.

He inched his way to my face, his nose touching mine. I could feel his breath, smelling of the whiskey I had poured him earlier. His lips brushed over mine as if seeking confirmation, and in that moment, I leaned in, and our kiss began. It was soft, filled with affection, a gentle exploration of each other's feelings.

I brought my hands to his face, cupping it delicately. My fingers played with the soft hairs on the back of his neck. The kiss deepened slightly, each movement a synchronized dance of two souls finding solace in each other's company.

With a mild pull, we found ourselves sinking into the sofa, our lips meeting again in a sweet and unhurried kiss. The room seemed to fade away as we lost ourselves in the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Soft sighs and the light rustle of fabric became a symphony to my ears.

As our kisses deepened, the desire for closeness grew. Chip shifted his weight as he continued to savor the connection that seemed to deepen with each passing second. His hands traced gentle patterns on my back and sides.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my cheek.

"Chip, you have no idea how beautiful you are," I replied, my fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "You’re so sweet and kind; you deserve nothing but love.” My eyes met his; his lips were open, but no words came out, so I continued, “I want to treat you right, the way you should have been treated before."

He looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "I... I've never had someone say something like that to me."

My hand gently tugged at his neck as I whispered, "She didn't deserve you, Chip. Every little second she spent with you, she didn't deserve it."

He breathed in deeply, and I felt his Adam's apple bobbing under my fingertips as he looked up at me with his big brown eyes.

"Why are you being so good to me?"

In that quiet space right before our lips met again, you could practically feel the tension in the air. It was like this magnetic pull, and I swear, you could almost hear our hearts beating in sync.I could feel the gentle touch of his fingers, a feather-light caress that traced the contours of my face, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. The room was dim, but it felt like everything was glowing. You know those moments when time kinda stops? Yeah, it was one of those. I could sense his breath mixing with mine, and there was this unspoken language passing between our eyes. It was all anticipation, a sweet torture, and then, in a heartbeat, our lips crashed back together.

Our bodies synced in a rhythmic dance, his hips gently pressing into mine. The sensation of his hardness against the warmth between my thighs was like a wildfire spreading through me, making my toes curl in sweet response.

His hands explored the curves of my body, tracing a path that sent shivers down my spine. The touch was electric, making my breath catch in the midst of pleasure. Our mouths collided in a passionate exchange, each kiss leaving us both breathless and wanting more. His lips migrated from mine to my neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. Meanwhile, his hands found a comfortable spot on my hips, gently pulling me closer to him. The squeeze was tender, yet firm.

I guided him backward onto the couch, settling myself on his lap. Leaning in, I pressed soft kisses along his neck, the taste of his skin driving my desire. Running my teeth lightly against it, I elicited a quiet moan from him. Leaning further, our lips met in a fiery kiss, passion igniting between us. The world faded away as I lost myself in the intensity of the moment, our connection deepening with every shared breath and every stolen kiss.

“You’re driving me insane, Y/N," he whispered in my ear as his hands met my hips to guide me as I grinned on his fully hard but still covered dick.

“I’ve barely even started,” I chuckled as I placed small kisses on his collarbone. He responded with a sharp inhale, laying his head back and grinding his hips up to meet mine.

“Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.

“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

Those pretty brown eyes begging me were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and it made me grow even hotter than before. I responded with a soft smile, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek and lowering myself on the ground in front of him.

“Y/n, you don't have to," but there was a subtle hint of hope in his eyes, secretly wishing I wouldn’t stop what I was doing. And so I didn't. As my hands laid flat on his thighs, I looked at him and said, "But I want to."

The whimper he let out was delicious, clearly growing desperate as my hands worked the string of his sweats. He raised his hips a little so I could help him out of them, freeing him completely.

“Baby... your cock is so pretty,” I told him with a sweet smile.

“Humm.. is it?” He asked in a quiet moan, with uncertainty coaxing his voice.

“Humm..humm” I placed a soft kiss on the tip. “The prettiest.” I then slowly started to kitten-lick before taking him into my mouth as my right hand started to move.

As his head fell back, his hand met the back of my neck. He couldn’t contain himself as he moaned loudly. Fuck, this man was vocal, and his soft moans and whimpers were making me wetter than ever before.

As I sucked on his cock, his hand pulled on my hair, guiding me however he saw fit. Suddenly, he pulled me up. "Please stop, or I’m going to cum," he moaned, his body shuddering with pleasure. “I want to be inside of you.”

Now was my turn to moan at his words; he sounded so sincere, like he longed for it.

As I rose from the ground, I took my pants off and motined for him to also take the rest of his clothes off.

I held a twinkle in my eyes as I suggested, “You want to help me out, pretty boy?”

He immediately lunged forward, grabbing my ass and pulling me close to his mouth. His open-mouth kisses on my stomach sent fireworks of pleasure through my body, and I felt as if every nerve in my body had lit up with desire.

His fingers grazed my sides as he hooked them on the fabric of my panties, pulling them down.

He then took my shirt off before pulling me into his lap once again.

I reached between us, taking his dick in my hand and lining it up with my entrance. As I sank down, he captured my lips once again, moaning in my mouth at the sensation of him filling me up.

“Fuck Chip, you feel so good, so big inside of me,” I said, looking into his eyes. He almost melted, his lips half open, letting a sweet moan escape.

“You’re so warm, Y/N, so tight." He hissed as I stared to move. "Fuck,” he moaned in a high-pitched tone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“Oh my god...” He cried, “So good.”

"I bet Liza never made you feel this good," I teased, kissing his neck softly.

"Never," he moaned, his body shivering with pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet she's nowhere near as good as me at making you feel good," I said, biting his neck hard enough to leave a mark.

"There's nothing that could ever compare to this," he moaned, his hands wrapped around me and his entire body tense with pleasure.

As I moved up and down, I felt his hands travel along my body, sending me a shiver of pleasure. His breath quickened, and his whimpers became more incoherent with each movement.

“Y/n.. y/n I ca..” He tried to speak, but the sentences seemed hard to form.

“What is it, baby boy?” I asked as I grabbed his chin, making him keep his eyes on mine.

"I need to..." He sounded desperate, and my walls squeezed at his neediness.

"Oh, baby,” I moaned. “Am I fucking you so good you can't even hold a conversation?”

He quickly nodded his head in affirmation.

Oh, what a sight! He looked so worked up, and his eyes begged me to not stop my movements as his dick hit my cervix.

“Can I please..." He tried to form the full sentence, but a moan inturremped him. I could feel the fires of passion burning inside me with each stroke, his cock twitching, yearning for release.

He breath in deeply “Can I please cum inside”.

“Yes baby” I moaned “Please cum for me” I held him close as I rode our shared climax. The felling of his load spilling into me made me feel full.

As I reclined on the couch, Chip nestled himself between my legs, his head finding a restful spot on my chest. Despite lingering fatigue, his demeanor shifted to one of contentment and tranquility. With gentle strokes, I caressed his head, feeling the softness of his hair.

"Well, that was unexpected,” he spoke, breaking the moment with a light-hearted chuckle.

I laughed, “The best things usually are.”

Chip’s gaze softened, and he looked at me with a mix of gratitude and realization. “You know, YN, I never thought I could feel so much love from someone. It’s… it’s different.”

I smiled, appreciating the sincerity in his words. “Different can be a beautiful thing. You know? The ordinary becomes extraordinary in the company of the right person.”

Chip sighed contentedly, his eyes drifting closed. "Well, I think I found the right person tonight."

And with those words, he succumbed to the embrace of slumber, the room filled with the soft sounds of a peaceful night.

#chip taylor #chip taylor smut #chip taylor x reader #chip taylor fluff #mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader #68 kill #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut

[chiliyue-archived]

Sweet Dreams, Beloved

↬going to sleep with him ♡

Includes; Dazai, Chūya, Fyodor, Jōno

Notes; Happy (late) Bday Dazai 🫶 he may be a redflag, but reds my favorite color :>

Requested ! [Bsd M.List] ♡

-

—DAZAI

The sound of kisses— or, more specifically, an empathized 'mwah!' echoed in your ear as you sunk into Dazai's embrace, his arms drawing you close to his figure. His lips trailed around your face in a lazy motion with no definite spot in mind; he was pressing pecks along your cheeks before switching to give your lips some proper attention and repeating the process once more.

" Sleepy..." Dazai chuckled at your words, hot puffs pricking your cheek. Your voice was barely audible, sluggish as you treaded precariously to the breeches of sleep.

He swore his heart exploded when you continued to murmur against him, eyes droopy as your gaze settled over him.

You shifted a bit in his embrace so that you were resting your head against his chest, the new angle making your muscles loosen and prompted a new wave of exhaustion to wash over your figure.

" Close your eyes and sleep, love." Dazai voiced, words muddled as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, eyes watching the steady rise and fall of your chest.

You let out a cute yawn before finally slipping into the realm of unconsciousness, muffled murmurs and sounds slipping from your lips, coaxing Dazai to tighten his grip around you. One hand went to entangle itself into your hair, cradling you close to his chest.

His eyes flutter shut, relishing your presence as his heart squeezed in his chest. It was a nice sensation, having you draped over him as some kind of pillow. His lips moved to murmur one last thing, voice trailing off slightly; " I'll be here to scare away all the bad dreams."

-

—CHŪYA

" Comfortable?" Chūya inquired. His face was resting against your stomach, his hand sneaking under the hem of your garments. You let out a sigh, muscles loosening as he ran his fingers along your skin in a quelling motion that way made your eyes heavy and body sink into the futon.

" Mhm..." You mumbled, hands lazily dripping over his shoulders, the pads of your fingers tickling against his shirt with ghost-like touches. Chūya snuggled close to your warmth, nose brushing against your abdomen as his eyes squeezed shut.

His hair became a mess beneath your hands, your fingers tugging and messaging the locks of hair in a sloppy rhythm, but one that made a small smile curl on his lips. You always knew how to make him melt with just a couple of touches, swarming his chest in a pressure of wamrth that he chased after.

"'S warm, Doll," He murmured as his hands planted itself over your hips, the radiance of your body heating his nerves in consolidation. He swears up and down he can be in your embrace just like that for hours, his tensed body soothed after a taxing evening of work.

" Hmm... I hope you're still here when I wake up." Your voice was laced with a drowsy tune, syllables slurred together to form a scacrly coherent sentence.

You were too exhausted to feel Chūya's lips as he leaned forward to place a kiss on your exposed skin. You were too sleepy to feel his hand reach out to brush a strand of your hair aside, touch lingering on your cheek. And you were too tired to hear his words, muddled as he squished his cheek back against your body; " I will be."

-

—FYODOR

His arms looped around your shoulder, cold hands running down your clothed spine with precise motions he knew would easily sway you into a deep slumber.

" Your hands are cold.." you mumbled out, staring at him with a slight pout as he persisted with his ministrations. Your protest merely brought a tug to his lips, his thumb moving to run over your shoulder blade. " Don't wanna go to sleep yet..."

Despite the words that left your mouth, the rest of your body betrayed you, functioning with contradictory movements; slumping your head against his shoulder, having to frequently blink to prevent yourself from slipping, and the numbing of your senses as your mind drowned everything else out involuntarily.

You felt Fyodor's breath tickle your temples, his lips brushing over the spot. His gaze settled over you with a small satisfied smile as you brought a hand to rub at your eyes, a yawn falling soon after.

One of his hands withdrew from your shoulder— eyes gleaming as he took notice of the way you instinctively leaned after it. Instead, it found its way to your forehead, cold calloused fingertips from playing the cello, brushing your bangs and loose strands to the side.

" Don't worry, darling." His fingers shifted down to your nose, outlining the bridge before hooking beneath your chin. You showed no resistance when he angled your head towards him, sending him a lazy smile.

" Sleep now, Myshka." He finished it off with a chaste kiss to your lips, watching to make sure you got your rest and allowing the rare warmth to accumulate within his chest.

-

—JŌNO

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of your heartbeat echoed in Jōno's ears in a fluid rhythm. Under different circumstances, he would have revolted the sound, grating against his sensitive ears and souring his mood. However, he held a certain bias toward yours, the familiar rhythm bringing him a sense of decompression; especially among the late hours.

You were tangled in a pile of limbs, his ankles hooked around yours as his hands adjusted the blanket over your form. Though, it hardly compared to the warmth of his free hand trailing along your forearm in a languid movement, leaving hot streaks in its wake.

" Say it, please?" You suddenly murmured, voice cutting through the silent ambiance whilst you snuggled closer into his chest; Jōno allowed the warmth that pricked his chest to linger.

" Goodnight." He mumbled almost nonchalantly, but there was an underlying tone of undisputed reverence as his fingers continued its motion against your arms.

You give a small pout, brows furrowing as you latched yourself closer to him. Jōno chuckled as he felt the pads of your fingers brush up along his skin— a small eletricying pulse running along the nerves. A satisfied grin came up to his face.

" The other thing." You slurred, eyes becoming half-lidded, but you were resolved to hear those three sweet words from Jōno first.

A couple of seconds of silence passed. " I love you." He couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped him as he heard your heartbeat spike momentarily from those simple words. He leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, urging you off to sleep before allowing your thumping heartbeat to echo against the shell of his ear.

He fixated on it, the deep thrum encouraging an unperturbed expression to plaster itself on his features as the night carried out to an unspoken bliss.

-

A/n; I'm trying out a new format, I hope you liked this :))

#dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #jouno x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd fluff #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #fyodor fluff #jouno fluff #bsd x you #bsd x y/n

[katsukikitten]

Landing on your back with a sickening crunch makes the rage in you burn brighter. Bringing your knees to your chest to slam your feet straight into his sternum.

With any luck you'll break it.

But you doubt it, he wasn't tied in the number one spot for no reason and he was no stranger to hand to hand despite his quirk.

Still he staggers backward enough for you to get to your feet, sharp black tipped claws poised to slash although you must be careful. His reach is larger than yours and you've had to break your wrist to get out of his grip before. Your previous encounter shines brightly in jagged ruby scabs on his forearms decorating his other more detrimental scars.

"Hah? What's wrong?" His lips turning up into a smirk as he lunges and you jump back again, "Scared I'll get ya?"

"Nah, just don't wanna fork over another fortune to get my shit fixed again." Throwing a kick that he ducks to dodge, grabbing onto your ankle to pin under his armpit, his other hand coming to clamp down just below your knees. Palm burning your skin through your dark skin tight suit, you can tell he's tempted to apply more pressure to snap your leg at an odd angle.

The papers were right, he'd be a much better villain.

"They make ya go to therapy? Ya know for your anger management? Bet ya get in trouble for hero brutality all the time." He hears this type of shit all the time in the media, the most it gets out of him now is an eye roll but when you say it it's like your claws are scraping at his bones. He bares his teeth and the time it takes him to think of a retort that you're able to twist your body with precision.

Letting your steel toed boot slam right into his handsome jaw. He doesn't stagger, it's annoying how much he can take but his grip loosens when you add.

"They have to, right? Otherwise the people wouldn't have let you tie with Deku huh?"

Freeing yourself expertly just out of his reach again as you dodge a swipe of his glowing hot palm.

"Ya fuckin talk too much."

"Ya didn't say that the last time you pinned me under you." You giggle and his throat burns red, swallows thickly as he lunges, wrapping you in his large arms. Pressing your chest against his b

"That was from a quirk. I ain't into you like that." He growls, nose to nose and all it does is make you smile.

"Oh?" A purr of your voice, leaning to whisper into his ear, haughty as you recall what he said to you that night, "So when you said 'fuuuuck sweetheart yer made for me' ya didn't mean it?"

It puts him into the moment instantly, him gripping onto your hips as he bounces you on his cock in doggy in the dingy alley behind a bar, you looking back at him with pretty tears in your eyes moaning out his name. His real name.

"Right, Katsuki." You can feel his heart rate increasing, feel his grip adjust in a different manner, "That's why you keep looking for me? Keep calling me?"

Leaning back as he lets up enough your arms are free, nails going to his undercut as you recalled he liked, scratching gently as you watch this hero melt in your touch.

"I thought you hated liars, baby."

"Stop." He bites, arms moving down to fall on your natural waist, one palm coming back up to squeeze your rib cage in warning.

"Stop what?"

"Stop using your quirk, yer slutty ass sex pollen shit." His eyes flicker to your lips, to the dark color he knows will smear against his mouth or the base of his cock like he's seen it before.

"That's the thing, Katsuki." You lean up lips inches from his and you'd be stupid to ignore the magnetism between the two of you, "I'm not using a quirk at all. You want me."

Suddenly your claws are sharp at his back, too sharp as you dig them deep using it as leverage to get fully out of his grip. Scaling the wall as another hero's foot steps can be heard barreling down the maze of alleyways you lead Dynamight down in a poor attempt to lose him.

"Find me again." Your giggle echoes around the space only to echo around his head until he catches a glimpse of a dark body suit slinking around in the shadows again.

#katsuki x reader #Bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛ #kitten writes Bakugou

[nahoney22]

Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

Masterlist

Tags:

@littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix x @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

#nahoney22 writes #gn reader #the bad batch #tbb #tbb echo x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch x gn reader #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tech bad batch #Hunter bad batch #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch

[kairiscorner]

˗ˏˋ ✮ kairi's AUtober !

double feature 1: the arcade nerd, miles g. morales.

it all started with the sound of caramelldansen.

you grumbled as you headed to the very back of the arcade, the most obscure, hardly visited section; where the more retro games were kept and where many machines were not longer functional, because apparently, some hooligan was still playing on the DDR machine in the very back. you figured you weren't being paid enough to shoo these guys out, especially not when you were an intern that only worked here over the weekends for some extra allowance. "look, buddy, we're five minutes away from closing up, you might wanna get out of here before the manager comes in and shoos you out himself." you called out to the pesky customer still dancing about and hitting the arrow notes all precisely.

you watched as the tall, dark boy before you in braids was shuffling about, not responding to your call and focusing on hitting every note precisely and on time. you had to admit, in the three months that you've worked for this crappy, dingy establishment, only now have you witnessed an actual professional at work, and you wouldn't really feel happy with yourself if you interrupted his streak, but you also wouldn't feel happy at your manager getting pissed off at you for not getting the remaining customer out of here before closing time. you sighed and walked up closer to him as he was dancing the verse before the chorus out with everything he had. "hey man, you gotta go." "i got stuck in this part last time, like hell i'm leaving now." he told you in a low voice as he began to move his feet at a faster pace, with your eyes being unable to keep up with how fast the notes on the screen were moving and instead shifted your gaze down to his feet that shuffled here and there, hitting every note precisely and on time, not losing focus even as he broke into a sweat as he tried his hardest to hit every note, to finally finish this song.

when the song ended, he was heaving and sweaty—you asked him if he was okay, but it was only when his score was calculated and his rank as the number one DDR player on the screen was shown, he finally responded with a wide smile and a contagious chuckle. "yes! yes i'm okay, i'm... ecstatic right now!" he exclaimed all gleefully as he turned to look at you suddenly, his nose brushing over yours by accident out of his haste. "o-oh... sorry, sorry i didn't, um... i didn't realize you were this close." he apologized to you with a faltering voice, looking away from you in embarrassment as you quickly told him with the same flustered tone that 'it was okay'. "you can really kick ass at this game, huh?" "i guess so, my uncle took me to this section of the arcade ever since i was young, so... it just grew on me, ever since. i'm... miles, by the way." he introduced himself to you and awkwardly had his hand out for you, looking up into your eyes and back down to his hand in embarrassment.

when you shook his hand and introduced to him your own name, miles felt like he knew you from somewhere. "say... you look familiar, are you from visions? brooklyn visions academy?" "i... how did you...?" "y-your eyes, they, uh... n-nevermind, way to sound lame, miles..." he muttered to himself as he tried to think of another way to start this conversation over without the awkward bits in it. but before he could open his mouth, you took his hand in yours and looked into his eyes. "we could, um, go to the diner across the street and talk some more. i-it's closing time right now, so... we've gotta—" "o-oh, right, right... get going, yeah. sorry to... waste your time." "no!" you exclaimed looking at him with widened eyes, making his own chocolate colored ones widen like a deer in headlights. "no, you didn't waste my time. in fact, you intrigue me, miles." you told him with a smile, making him a little shy at your words. "a-and so do you." he whispered to you with a little grin, making you smile even wider as you clocked out of work and exited the arcade with him.

maybe working at that old arcade has its perks, such as the cutest boy you've ever met coming here more often just to... "beat his record at DDR" (that's code for sneaking you out of your shift to get some pizza with him). maybe it wasn't a mistake to take up the internship here, and maybe it wasn't a mistake to have watched him—in all his nerdy glory—perfect combo caramelldansen on that old DDR machine in the back; and maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to ask him out after school sometime for some coffee, maybe, right?

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @ravisinghs-wife @jrrantss @conitagray @euphovlq

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles morales fanfiction #miles morales 42 #miles morales x reader #miles 42 #miles 42 x reader #atsv #atsv prowler #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines #atsv fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fanfiction

[starlightts-posts]

Neteyam x avatar!reader

part 2 :))

genre: fluff

part 1 part 3

a/n: i have no clue what to add to part 1, but here you go!

When Lo'ak suggested that you should try and experience the adrenaline of riding an Ikran, the vibrant blue color got drained from your face. You admired the creature, no doubt in that, but the thought of being among the clouds frightened you, especially if it meant having Lo'ak as the escort.

"No," you push yourself through the doorway of your bedroom, passing the youngest son of Toruk Makto with a full box of Norm's paperwork in your arms. "I am not stepping out of this laboratory to fly a banshee, especially if it means you get to skip your sparring match with Neteyam."

"Come on," Lo'ak rolls his eyes and skips after you, dodging the 'happy birthday' sign that Max insisted Norm hangs above your bedroom door the day prior with a quick bend. You place the box down on Norm's precisely clean desk with a huff, your best friend stealing a peek over your shoulder at the statistics with a frown. "It'll be fun! Definitely much more of a fun than this.." he points to the papers, "mess."

You pinch the bridge of your nose and turn to face the blue-skinned boy with a sigh. "Lo'ak-"

"Don't be a wuss," you send a scowl his way. He brings his hands up in surrender, the corners of his mouth curving into a weak smirk. Lo'ak knows how to hit the nerve of yours. "Flying an Ikran is our tradition. If you wanna fit in, you need to do it." you walk away from him with an annoyed groan. "Besides, i'm gonna be there with you!" Lo'ak calls after you, chuckling when he receives a whine in return from the hallway.

---

"I hate you," you breathe out, knees weakening and heartbeat speeding up. You are currently sitting cross-legged on the upper chamber of the Hometree, hands tied behind your back.

When you noticed a note on your door in the morning from Norm that reminded you of his and Max's quick trip to collect more examples from Pandora's flora, you used their absence to sneak out in your avatar and wander around the forest, unaware of the pair of yellow eyes watching your every move.

"I wanna pluck your eyes out right now," you state with a threatening tone when Lo'ak approaches you with his Ikran. You pull your knees to your chest as they stop in front of your shivering figure, clearly amused by your reaction. "I thought you said you and Neteyam have a sparring match in the morning."

Lo'ak pats the side of his banshee before he kneels beside you, excitement present in his gaze. "We do," he nods as his hands travel to your tied ones. He frees them but immediately traps them in his, knowing you will try to escape any minute if he doesn't. "I'm just not going to show up."

"That's awful," you voice your opinion about the situation and let the Na'vi push you forward. Your chest tightens when the two of you reach the Ikran, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "Lo'ak, please.."

Your best friend places one of his hands on your shoulder while the other finds its way on his banshee and begins to caress her skin affectionately. "Do you trust me?" he locks his eyes on the back of your head and notices the hairstyle change, which probably is from Kiri and Tuk.

"I do," you swallow hard when his Ikran slightly rubs her head against the back of your shaking hand, not noticing Lo'ak connecting his queue to hers. "I do trust you."

"Good," he grasps your waist and lifts you up with ease, putting you on the creature. Unintentionally, you swing one of your legs over to the other side of his colorful Ikran, heartbeat increasing when she releases a screech. Lo'ak positions himself in front of you and finds a steady grip on the banshee while you wrap your arms around his waist. "Ready?"

"No-" with a whistle, the Ikran runs to the edge of the upper chamber and you bury your scrunched face in Lo'ak's shoulder. "I hate you!"

The beginning of the unpleasant flight is mostly filled with gliding and slow pace, but after Lo'ak notices the lack of your screams and swears, he starts to mess around with the speed and adds some tricks to spice it up.

"It isn't that bad, is it?" he glances over his shoulder at you, chuckling. You slap his shoulder-blade in disagreement. When your hand meets his vibrant blue skin, Lo'ak takes a sharp turn to dodge a floating island he didn't notice before he dedicated his attention to you. The sudden change accompanies the pressure of the wind around you, pushing your side. Your fingertips brush Lo'ak's bicep as you fall off his Ikran, eyes widening. "Shit!"

A panicked shout of your best friend's name scratches the inside of your throat and strikes Lo'ak with guilt and fear. His Ikran senses the enormous amount of panic and dives after you.

Your falling avatar is caught by a strong pair of arms, saved from a harsh fall and possible death. You catch your breath as Lo'ak stops next to your savior, relief present in his gaze.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Neteyam pulls your shaking figure to his chest and glares at his irresponsible brother. Your arm sneaks behind his shoulders while his lecture continues to pass through your ringing ears.

"I didn't expect them to fall!" Lo'ak tries to defend himself, unable to absorb the situation. Neteyam scoffs and adjusts your position in his embrace, encouraging you to spread your legs and make yourself comfortable - promising he has a secure grip on you and that you're allowed to move. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

"It's okay-"

"No, it's not," Neteyam cuts you off and points to his younger brother, ears pulled back. He clicks his tongue, "You're so fucking lucky they aren't injured. If they were, you would be headless."

Lo'ak lowers his head in shame as you lean backwards, your savior's breath hitching when your back is fully pressed against his chest. To say you are intimidated is an understatement. Neteyam doesn't curse often, hell, he doesn't curse at all because he wants to live up to his father's expectations, but when your health and safety is involved, he isn't afraid to break the rules.

"Go home," The Olo'etykan-in-training commands, fighting the urge to beat some sense into his brother. "And help Kiri with the preparations for the ceremony." Lo'ak opens his mouth to protest, but with one quick raise of Neteyam's eyebrows he doesn't waste a second and swallows his words.

"Again," The younger son makes eye contact with you and scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm sorry." you send him a nod of forgiveness and assure him that you are going to be okay with a soft smile. With a stern look piercing through his skull, Lo'ak disappears in the clouds above you.

Neteyam places his forehead on the nape of your neck and sighs with relief. "You okay?" he hums, his lips brushing against your skin which sends goosebumps down your spine. Your hand travels to his knee and leaves gentle rubs on top of it as he shifts in his spot behind you.

"You scared the hell out of me," he confesses and pats the side of his Ikran, tightening his grip around your waist. You chuckle under your breath, pressing your back to his chest when the banshee begins to move forward. "Thank you, Eywa, for the sickening feeling I got when Lo'ak didn't show up to the sparring match."

"Thank you, Eywa, for sending this brave warrior to save me."

Neteyam slaps your thigh gently and presses a sweet kiss on the back of your head, chuckling. "Shut it."

#neteyam x reader #avatar imagine #neteyam imagine #neteyam #avatar

[watchyourbuck]

17 please

Every step Eddie took, Buck followed suit. His eyebrows were contorted in worry, and he kept fidgeting.

“Are- are you sure this is gonna work?”

Eddie inhaled deeply, moving around the kitchen in the limited space he had, picking bowl after bowl of snacks. He turned to his boyfriend with a stern look. “Buck,” he said, his tone bordering on exasperated, “please stop worrying. It’s gonna be okay. Here,” he added, handing him the dishes forcefully, “take these to the table.”

Buck pursed his lips, pulling the bowls close to his body. “Eddie, I’m just- I don’t wanna fight ‘em.”

“No one’s fighting anyone.”

The promise sounded wobbly, like it could break at any moment. But, then again, Eddie had earned his trust. At least he wasn’t facing them on his own.

“Okay,” Buck whispered, defeated. “I’m- I’ll give you space.”

His boyfriend was very obviously tired, and he wasn’t being precisely useful.

“Park it,” Eddie ordered, sighing. He put his hand up, stopping Buck before he could make it through the threshold. “Come here.”

Buck obeyed, blinking away a few tears. Eddie grabbed his arm, pulling him in.

“It’s going to be okay,” he reassured him, placing his hands on Buck’s neck before leaning up to kiss him.

It was long, and soft and enough to make Buck’s shoulders relax.

Then the bell rang.

They were here.

Almost immediately, Buck’s look of panic returned to his face. Eddie breathed out, pulling away from him, then gave him a kiss on the cheek before walking to the door. “C’mon baby.”

Buck stayed behind. Frozen in the middle of the kitchen, with half a pound of mini toasts and salty chips.

Admittedly, it was kind of selfish, but he couldn’t let them in himself —besides, Eddie hadn’t waited for him, either.

Soon, though, the voices of Ramon and Helena Diaz, and Phillip and Margaret Buckley filled his ears to the brim. They were asking for him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Buck!”

“Coming!”

The bitter taste of the word ‘baby’ got stuck in his throat. Not yet, not yet.

Who told them this was a good idea?

Irrupting through the kitchen door was enough to make their guests stare. Eddie glanced between them, forcing a smile Buck knew fake a little too well. He copied it. “Hi- hi mom, d-dad,” he said, his voice quiet.

Eddie walked towards him, taking back the bowls into his own. “Go,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side in repetitive little motions.

“Oh, uh- yeah, h-hi!” Buck muttered, moving as fast as he could through their crowd. “Mr. Díaz, Mrs- Mrs. Díaz.”

Both men patted him on the back, reminding him how strong they actually were. He gulped. He was okay, he was safe.

Margaret kissed his cheek, leaving an imprint of her lips. Buck wiped it with the back of his hand, smiling down politely at her so as to not offend her. Helena barely acknowledged him; she simply glanced at her own son with suspicion.

Right, he guessed this was a very particular invitation after all.

As soon as he was done, he stepped back, returning to Eddie’s side. He had finally settled the bowls down on the table, where they belonged.

The six of them stared at each other.

“Mijo, what’s going on?” Helena blurted, crossing her left leg over her right one. “Don’t- don’t get me wrong,” she added, looking over at Buck’s parents, “I- I’m thrilled to see you all, but-,”

“Nothing, ma,” interrupted Eddie rashly, “Buck and I have- we have busy schedules, that’s all. You’re always on my case about seeing me more… we thought it’d be a nice-,”

“Buck’s not all that busy,” exclaimed Margaret, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This… firefighting thing is more like a hobby.”

Buck felt his neck and cheeks color. Always good to know what your mother thought of your job.

“I disagree, Mrs. Buckley,” Eddie said after a second. “Being a firefighter is a highly demanding job, and some may think it resembles a hobby, but both Buck and I, and our entire team, actually…, we put all our efforts into taking care of you.”

The last word made Buck lower his head, his ears perking up. He knew Eddie better than anyone else in that room, and that was a direct shot.

“Edmundo,” called Ramon, his voice stern and his eyebrows furrowed. “Be respectful to your friend’s mother.”

Not that it should have, but he felt as though ‘friend’ had stabbed him in the throat.

Eddie fell silent. So much so that Buck raised his head and looked at him, his eyes wide and expectant. It took him a second, but he eventually returned the stare. “Okay,” he said, finally. “I thought we’d have more time of small talk, but- it is what it is.”

“Eddie.”

“Buck-,” he muttered, putting his hands up and closing his eyes. “It’s time”.

“I don’t understand,” interrupted Helena. She sounded upset already, as if she could sniff their confession from a mile away.

“I’m afraid neither do I,” followed Margaret, looking among the guests, but eventually blinking up at her husband.

He took her hand. “Care to tell us what’s going on, Evan?”

“It’s- Buck, dad,” he tried. “Whatever.”

“Okay,” repeated Eddie. “Everybody shut up.”

“Mijo!”

“Edmundo!”

“No, mom, dad. It’s time you listen to what we have to say.”

Buck gulped, blinking. He could hear his own heart in his ears, and it was making him dizzy. He looked at Eddie, who straightened up where he stood.

“You were right. We do have something to tell you,” he started. “This could have been a text, but out of respect for you, and for Buck, I’ve decided to do it this way.”

“Did you get a girl pregnant?” Ramon asked, short of standing up. Buck took a step back. Jesus Christ.

“No.”

“Then what’s so important you had to fly us out from Texas?”

Eddie licked his lips. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Mom, dad, Mr., Mrs. Buckley… Buck and I are together.”

The way Phillip’s face changed in real time made Buck realize Eddie had grabbed his hand in the process. He was holding it, and squeezing it. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he managed to squeeze back.

“What is this?” Phillip said, a disgusted look plastered on his face.

“Together, together?” Margaret said, her smile faltering.

In a hurry, Ramon stood up, and Buck couldn’t help his reaction. He took two steps back, hiding behind Eddie. “What are you telling me, Edmundo? That you’re a fa-?”

“Ramon!” Helena interrupted, mimicking her husband. She put herself in front of him, trying to push him back.

Eddie took a step forward, and their hands slid away from each other. “Yes,” he said, his features hard, and unnerved. “Yes, I am. You got a problem with that?”

“Evan,” said Phillip. “Come here right this second.”

Buck was breathing heavily. This is exactly what he didn’t want. Oh, god, oh, god. He put his foot up, but Eddie extended his arm, crossing his body. “No,” he said, “he’s done taking orders from you.”

“So, he’s taking them from you now?” Margaret said, putting her hands up in desperation. “Evan- what have you turned into?”

“Mom,” he tried, his voice weak. “I’m not- I didn’t turn into anything, I’ve always-,”

“This city has turned my boy into a homosexual,” she cried, covering her face with her hands.

Eddie scoffed. “Buck’s bisexual, Maggie. I’m gay.”

“You are no such thing!” Ramon exclaimed, stomping his foot on the wooden floorboards. “You are sick, and I will punch this sickness out of you if I have to.”

“Ramon!”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie muttered, smiling. He ignored Buck’s tug on his shirt, taking another step forward. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Please, Eddie-,”

“Evan Buckley,” called Phillip. “We’re leaving. Go to the car.”

Buck frowned. “What? No.”

Phillip launched forward, keen on grabbing Buck by the shirt, but Eddie was faster. He put himself between them, staring up at his boyfriend’s father. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

“You’re not very tall.”

“But I was in the army, and I’ve seen torture that’d make you wet your pants like a little boy.”

“Edmundo!” Helena yelled, pushing past her husband to get to him. She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away. “This is not who we raised you to be. What’s- what’s happened to you?”

“He takes it in the ass now,” scoffed Phillip, clicking his tongue mockingly.

Buck gasped, his eyes wide. Oh, hell no. “Actually, that’s me, dad.”

Silence. Eddie slowly turned to his boyfriend, the echo of fear resonating through his features.

“I’m the one that takes it the ass, dad, and boy do I love it.”

Like a maniac, Phillip reached for Buck. He grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him to himself. A few cushions were scattered on the floor, and it made them stumble. That was window enough for Eddie, who took the man’s wrist and turned it.

Everyone started yelling.

Buck fell to his knees, hitting his elbow on the glass table behind him. He winced, and Eddie ducked, dodging Phillip’s fist.

They both stood up in unison, finding their way back to each other. Eddie was the first to scream back. “All of you. Out. Now!”

“Eddie,” Helena whispered.

“Get out of my house. All of you.”

They all stared, but an ounce of common sense collectively reached their brains. One by one, they exited the perimeters, leaving Eddie to wrap his arm around his Buck protectively.

“I got you, baby, I got you.”

Buck broke into a sob.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Please take this as a very late Seven Sentence Sunday!

Tagged (yesterday) by @hippolotamus @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings & @lover-of-mine thank you so much! Go check their works if you haven’t yet💗

Tagging some friends and peeps who I believe may be interested in the ficlet! Let me know if you wish to be removed!! @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @butraura @bucksbirthmark @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @buckleyobsessed @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddie---diaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @eowon @smilingbuckley @firemedicdiaz @princessfbi ✨

#Seven Sentence Sunday #tw: violence #the prompt technically included a ‘please’ at the end but I couldn’t bring Eddie to say that in this context lmao #buddie #911 fox #911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 tv show #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie #buck and eddie #911 abc #buddie 911 #buddie wip #buddie ficlet #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction #911 on abc #911 buddie

[p0pp3t]

Gavin x Reader | Special Clientele

sfw

gender-neutral reader (freelancer)

2nd person

fluff

slightly suggestive near the end

word count: 665

 “If you can change your appearance, can’t you just ‘paint’ your own nails?”

You sit at the kitchen table across your lover. The little pouch you’ve set down clinks with nail polish bottles, cuticle pushers, and everything else you’d need for an at-home manicure.

“Sure I could, but where’s the fun in that?” Gavin asks. “Anything to have my hands in yours, My Love.”

You roll your eyes, but bring his hand to your lips and press a kiss to his knuckles anyway. Gavin smiles contentedly as you give his nails a closer look.

“Good and strong,” you comment, applying gentle pressure with your thumb. You release his hand and unzip your bag, neatly lining up bottles of nail polish in front of the both of you. “Why don’t you pick your color and,” you open your phone as well; the screen displays a graphic of different nail shapes - “Your shape.”

“With pleasure.”

Taking his time, Gavin’s eyes narrow and brow furrows as he goes through his color options, holding each bottle to the back of his hand and seeing how they complement him. Maybe he’d be a little more decisive choosing his shape.

“Tough choice, isn’t it?” Playful affection tinges your tone. “You can always pick more than one; it’s no trouble.”

“Well, I wanna get this right,” he says in earnest. “You’re the expert. What would you recommend?”

“I’ve always thought that pink suits you; what do you think about this one?” You take a warm shade of magenta and slide it toward Gavin, to which he takes the bottle and holds it against his skin a second time.

“This’ll do perfectly,” he says, satisfied. “And stilettos, if you please.”

Your work is gentle and precise, with soft nudges to Gavin’s cuticles and meticulously laid brushstrokes on his nails. He eyes you the whole time, observing how your brow lowers over your squinted eyes and how constant your hold on each of his fingers is. Looks like you want to get this right, too.

“You have excellent handiwork, but I guess I already knew that,” Gavin offers. You only smile wryly in response, never taking your gaze off the steady lines of paint you’ve left. “You’ve done this before?” he asks, a playful suspicion about his voice.

“Yeah, for a few years by now,” you tell him. “Just my own for a while, but I’ve done other people’s nails a few times before.”

“Well, I feel even better knowing I’m in good hands. And they are very good hands.” Someone’s on his game. You finally take your eyes off Gavin’s nails, if only for a moment to roll them again.

“Enough of that. This is a professional setting,” you tell your client, something barely noticeable tugging the corners of your lips upward.

“My apologies, then. I spoke out of turn.” 

You’re given the peace to carry out the rest of your task undisturbed, with Gavin carefully resting his chin on his free hand and continuing to watch you in quiet fondness. You disrupt his concentration at times to ask that he lays both hands flat on the tabletop, letting you wave a folding fan over the still-drying polish in cool gusts.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to cast a breeze?”

“‘Sure I could, but where’s the fun in that?’” you parrot. 

Eventually, your hard work pays off with a final swipe of top coat and the last few flourishes of your fan. You tap lightly at the corners of the polish, assuring yourself that it’s dry enough to avoid smudging.

“All done. What do you think?”

Gavin holds a hand up to the kitchen light, inspecting the glossy pink at each pointed nail.

“Beautifully done, as expected. Thank you, My Love.” He stands - for the first time in hours (“This takes longer than I thought,”) - and ambles to your side of the table, pressing warm lips to your own.

“Hm, is that my payment?”

“If you’ll accept it. Unless you were looking for more?”

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #gn reader #fluff #i imagine that fl has also done hux's and lasko's nails #not damien's tho something something 'it would just melt off' #also the shade is 'pencil me in' from essie #← couldn’t find a way to smoothly fit those into the dialogue so i’ll just leave you with those thoughts #aren’t they nice #una’s library 📖

[junggunz]

5 + 6 w vinny hong? love ur work and thank you!

“tell me what you want.” + “you look so good beneath me.”

The amount of sexual frustration you can just feel from how Vinny kisses you is ridiculous. From the kisses he leaves along any part of exposed skin he can reach to the way his hands crawl all over your body trying to get your clothes off—you know that you’ve gotten under his skin and have broken down his closed off demeanor if he was this comfortable with coming off as so needy with you.

“Tell me what you want.” You gently murmur against his lips right after he pulls back to trail kisses along your jaw and along your neck. As he sucks on a particularly delicate spot on your skin, you run your hand through his scarlet locks affectionately. The vibration of him humming against your skin contentedly as he works on leaving a vibrant hickey on your skin.

“I just wanna touch you,” He chuckles softly into the junction of your neck and shoulder, continuing to leave love bites along the flesh. “I want to see you, want to watch you cum.” He quietly adds in, briefly looking up at you from his spot.      

The last bit of what he says comes as a surprise to you. While deep inside your guts, Vinny’s thrusts are hard and heavy, hitting all the right spots in your warmth. His eyes always fall closed the moment he slips inside; unable to handle both the sensation of your velvety walls wrapped around him and how pretty you were to him as the two of you became one. Hands splayed on the back of your thighs as your legs limply dangle off his shoulders, you’re framed too perfectly. Prioritizing your needs, he gives you sharp and precise snaps of his hips to keep stimulating the sweet spot deep inside you that makes your legs tremble.    

“F-fuck, Vinny—” Your voice coming out as a whiny moan, feeling your orgasm rapidly building as he bullies his cock into the sensitive bundle of nerves within you. All it takes is a few more calculated thrusts until he feels your cunt spasming around him and hears you moaning louder than ever as you come undone. 

“You look so good beneath me.” He says, letting out a shuddering breath as he finally opens his eyes and gazes at your figure writhing against the sheets. Laid out under him, your chest bouncing with every hard thrust he delivers into you. The moment you meet the mismatched colors of his irises with your pupils dilated in a combination of lust and affection, he remembers why he can’t stand to look at you for the first half of sex. It’s the mere sight of you looking at him so adoringly while he pounds away at your cunt that has him selfishly chasing after his climax—knowing very well that he could find it deep within your clenching walls. Your walls squeeze down on him like a vice as you ride out your orgasm and he swears he feels you cum again when his hips give a few more jerks into your quivering body—spilling his hot cum deep inside you at last.

an: i let out such an ugly noise when i saw this. im so feral for vinny rn. thanks for sending in some numbers !!!

#[closed] #eloquent moon prompts #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #vinny hong x reader #vinny hong smut #vinny hong scenarios #windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #junggunz.txt

[matan4il]

Buddie 606 meta

This meta is about Buddie, but please let me state how much I love Henren. I adore this ship, I can’t even explain how much as a queer person myself, and this ep dedicated to them was fantastic. It did them justice. And I have to take a sec to point out how much this isn’t to be taken for granted. They are a couple of older gay women of color, four identities that have been largely marginalized in TV land. A lot of shows would barely include them, let alone dedicate a whole ep to them, trusting that the audience will love and embrace it. More than that, they allowed Henren to be sexual, too. This is such an important choice when it would have been easier to show every other wonderful moment between them, but keep them sanitized for the viewers who are less accepting. This is why I have so much faith in 911. I guess that’s also why I believe in the show when it comes to Buddie, that it can be brave enough to let them become canon. ~~

Speaking of Henren’s sexy times (I can’t emphasize enough how much I loved it, kudos to the gay musical choice), when Karen said to Hen, “I don’t have to be serious,” it hit me that she’s saying it with the exact same sort of playful intonation while taking a step in Hen's direction that Buck used when he uttered at Eddie that oh so suggestive, “You wanna go for the title?” in 309 while getting physically closer (kitchen scene, my ‘no het explanation’ beloved). ~~

I loved that Henren’s story does not begin smoothly, they start out antagonistic. Karen has that “are you even worth my time?” attitude, while Hen’s very blunt about calling her out. But the confrontation is full of that sexual tension of two people who, while riled up by the other person, they also realize they have met their match, someone who intrigues and attracts them, challenges them and can help them better themselves, so they very quickly move past the initial friction. Tell me that’s not Buddie in 201, giving each other attitude only to swear eternal loyalty as battlefield boyfriends before the ep's over. Enemies to soulmates who will choose each other again and again, through thick and thin, is why we (in addition to Buddie and Henren) are the ones who never really stood a chance. ~~

Then we have the fact that in both cases, someone from the team was responsible for the match. Chim was very blunt about it with Henren (our short KING!) and I know that Bobby-the-matchmaker is not canon, but it’s hovering so close to that. You can see it in the way Bobby watches Buck’s reaction to Eddie in 201, in the way he pushes them towards each other during that ep, and of course in that classic moment when he “presides” over Buddie’s union when the match proves to be a success (as I tried to show in my humor edit, in cinematographic terms, that moment was staged to look very similar to a wedding, the couple exchanging vows with an officiant in the background, a staging sometimes used to implicitly point to a ship not yet recognizing their own feelings/commitment for each other). It becomes even more of a parallel if you consider that in both cases, the “matchmaker” brings in a newcomer to make things better precisely when a member of the 118 they’re close to has to deal with letting go of a romantic relationship that ended up toxic... ~~

I wrote in my 605 meta that the Henren and Buddie parallels were already on in that ep, and I expected to see lots more this week, but I gotta admit, I thought it would be mainly between Henren’s call vs Buddie during the shooting arc in 413 and 414. So you can already tell I was surprised by how much broader the parallels were. Another one I did not anticipate was Karen’s aggravated reaction to Hen doing the decent thing (hearing Eva out regarding Denny) and how similar it was to Eddie’s reaction over Abby re-appearing in 318 (Buck doing the decent thing and helping her with her new fiance). If you ask me, jealously worried Eddie is confirmed real through this parallel (this is the one gif I made for this post myself, ‘coz I am a dumbass who forgot to type this when I was sending my meta gif requests). ~~

Everything about the call at the lab was exquisite, even the way it kicked off, with Bobby as the voice of the 118 reassuring Hen they will get her wife back to her. It's so much like the scene in 315 where the team had to reassure Buck that they're not giving up on Eddie and that they will save him. *quietly hyperventilates because what even is this parallel* ~~

Don’t get me started on Hen having to watch as Karen collapsed after coming out of the building. Like I said, I knew we’d probably be looking at a lot of parallels with the shooting story arc, but SERIOUSLY. 911, this was SO rude of you. Each one of these scenes separately just ripped my heart out, but the parallel also did me in, ‘coz it emphasized the fact that when Buck is the one to witness Eddie collapsing there, it’s because the show knows it has the same impact as for Hen to watch her (legally married!) romantic partner and co-parent to her child going through the same thing. The insane thing is Eddie officially had a romantic partner at the time! Someone who was supposed to occupy the closest space in his life to what Karen is to Hen, and yet 911 still chose to have Buck there, punching us all collectively in our guts as he watched in muted horror the love of his life collapsing. Utter, gay madness. ~~

Not only did Hen have to watch Karen collapse, she also had to try and revive her, which is so very similar to what Buck had to do for Eddie after physically getting him out of the line of fire in 414. It’s that mixture of love and desperation and hope and teetering on the edge of despair for me that makes the ambulance scenes in both of these storylines so poignant, and the parallel impossible to ignore. ~~

We also have the fact that when Hen watches Karen being carried into the hospital on a gurney, much like Buck watched Eddie being taken in during 414, the next moment when she knows Karen is more or less safe, she can barely hold herself up without help. It’s that combined exhaustion from everything she did to save her loved one, and relief, and the deeply terrifying realization of what was so close to be, all of these suddenly released together into her bloodstream become too much. So Bobby and Chim have to help and physically support her. This just came and slapped me across my face (911 really chose violence this ep, didn’t they?) because it’s exactly how Buck reacted in 303, when he sees Chris safe in Eddie’s arms, and he can’t take everything he’s feeling in that moment, so he has to be physically supported by Bobby and Hen… ~~

Karen refusing to leave when she was supposed to reminded me of Eddie doing the same by cutting his own cord in order to continue helping in 315. I was ready for the shooting arc parallels, I was not for the Eddie Begins ones and my insides are decimated. To be technical, this also parallels David refusing to leave the operation room in 508, subtly linking all the stubborn gays risking themselves when they’re not supposed to while their partners are nearby, yet separated from them and going insane with worry. ~~

I mentioned Henren parallels Buddie in both the shooting arc and Eddie Begins, and nowhere is it more evident IMO than in that moment when Chim lies to Karen, telling her Hen had died, and for one terrible moment, she believes it and you can see her whole world is shaken up and close to imploding. This feels so much like Buck’s reaction in both those storylines, when for a moment there he has to consider that maybe he lost Eddie for good, and the look he gets of utter disbelief, on the verge of devastation, is so like Karen’s. ~~

But if that’s not enough, we also have another theme that connects the three storylines, the one about how an event like that can make people recognize what matters in their lives and consolidate what their dreams are, or in other words, what’s the family that they fight for, which they now fully embrace. For Karen, thinking she lost Hen made helped her accept Denny into their lives, while Eddie, who realized in 315 that he’s fighting to come back to his family, and that Buck IS a huge part of that family, together with Chris, decided to change his will to make them all legally bound together, a fact he discloses to Buck in 414, as the conclusion to the shooting arc. ~~

Something that further reinforces the family-consolidation parallels between the two eps is Karen telling Hen she has to go be with Denny because he comes first, just like Buck stayed with Chris in 414. And again Ana, the actual gf, is right there, but it’s Buck who’s taking care of what matters the most to Eddie, what constitutes his heart: his son. ~~

I have to mention that moment at the hospital where Buck was asking about living without a spleen. With all of his experience as a firefighter responding to many medical emergencies, as well as his love of bizarre trivia including from the anatomical realm, I’m sure he knew the answer to that. What he’s really asking for is reassurance that Karen will be okay. Eddie picks up on that and offers precisely that, which is not just ridiculously tender, it’s also so domestic that it’s their connection that brings about that comfort. ~~

Lastly, the conclusion of this ep parallels Henren and Buddie as well. Hen’s insight from this experience of helping her significant other during a call is that the job she should be doing, that she was born to do, is be a paramedic with the 118. That’s also exactly Eddie’s conclusion in 511, after he helps Buck during a call. Even when he wasn’t physically there, even when it wasn’t Buck’s own life on the line, simply helping Buck on a dangerous call reminded Eddie of where he wanted to be. With his battlefield boyfriend. Canon “Buddie Begins” when, 911?

~~ If you like this content and would like to see more of it, please consider giving this a reblog! Thank you in advance for any show of support. A massive thank you to the astounding @whosoldherout​, who tackles my gif requests every week and creates such perfect and beautiful gifs to demonstrate my thoughts. xoxox

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie gif #buddie gifs #buddieedit #911edit #911 gif #911gif #911gifs #911 gifs #wm #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

[prismatic-bell]

HEY YOU

YEAH YOU

Wanna show you a thing.

Pretty, huh? It’s two different lesbian flags, both crocheted using ombré yarn to add a little more something-something to the colors. Handmade. (Crochet cannot be replicated by machine.)

Anyway these items are 40”x40” (just over 100x100cm), available for commission, and…wait for it…

…while they cost $350 total, up front you pay only $50 or the cost of materials (whichever is greater). If I have to buy materials, this ensures I’m not out the money if you decide you no longer want the item (yarn is not cheap). If I happen to have the colors already in my stash, this is basically a stake to make sure I don’t get left holding the bag on a color combination that may be hard to sell later. The remaining $300 is owed in 6-8 weeks when I finish and ship your item. The flag above that you may not be familiar with is a commission with a satisfied buyer, so I’m pretty sure if you want a confirmation you will actually get what you ordered, I can refer you to them.

ITEM SPECS:

—40x40”/100x100cm

—allergen-free acrylic (I would love to work in wool but I’m allergic and stuff like alpaca would take this way out of all our price ranges)

—completed in the round using Russian “magic” joins (knotless join; no loose ends)

—any color combination you like (Pride flag? Favorite colors? Just want something to match your decor?) provided I can find the appropriate colorways. Any item requiring significant amounts of black will require a price discussion due to a significant increase in labor.

—Ombré colors may be “chopped” (cutting up the skein to make each stripe start and end neatly at the end of the row) or I can let them flow, as you prefer. Chopped versions may require extra yarn.

THE COST INCLUDES:

—Seven skeins of acrylic yarn; this is the amount necessary to produce a four-color/four-ombré blanket. Contact me for math on additional colors.

—all labor, billed at approx. $7/hr. The price will not increase from the quoted price due to additional hours on my part unless the additional labor is due to significant use of black, in which case the cost will be discussed before the item is begun.

—a card containing 12” each of all colors used, from the relevant dye lots, in case of an accident requiring repair. Additional lengths will be provided if a color takes up a significant portion of the blanket (for example, if it’s only solid white and solid red).

—shipping within the contiguous United States or a $14 discount on overseas shipping (this is the cost within the US)

—color consultation on the precise colorways used for your item, should something require interpretation

Any delays in the process will be clearly communicated. On this I will absolutely refer you to my last commission; the company encountered supply chain issues that delayed the gray, and sourcing the desired pink for the exterior 5” turned out to be almost impossible. (But I did it!) I began work with the inside colors as soon as the gray was available and kept the client abreast of What Is Happening Now With The Pink, including offering secondary contingency options.

I cannot make the lipstick lesbian (“pink stripe”) flag. This is not due to any personal beef with the flag or with lesbians, but rather The Crafter’s Eternal Beef With This Flag Specifically: try source all seven colors, in the same weight, from the same brand, all currently in production, take this sword because it’s dangerous to go alone, good luck. Keep in mind if you use ombrés for this you’re adding a good 5-10 hours in terms of sorting the colors. The closest I’ve managed to get is the sunset-flag-inspired ombré above. I have tried. Do not get angry at me for this, get angry at whatever dumbass designed the flag without looking at readily-available ranges of craft supplies. I’m happy to work with you on a “we can try to get close” design, but the full color range just is not there. I’m sorry.

I cannot make the Progress Pride flag. It’s a beautiful flag and I have some great ideas for how I’d love to do it when I learn to make chevrons properly, but I’m not happy with the quality I’ve been able to produce and I will not release work I’m unhappy with. (Check back in a year. I’m learning some new stitches that may remedy this.) This is also true of the Queer Chevron flag, for the same reason. I’m happy to make a regular trans flag, Philadelphia (black and brown stripe) Pride flag, or Inclusive (final Gilbert Baker design, 2019) Pride flag instead.

Interested? Christmas and Chanukkah are only seven weeks away. NOW is the time to order if you saw this and went “oooh, that’d be great for…”

Support your small fibercrafters, buy a handmade blanket! You can contact me via DM if you’re interested. (And if you’re wondering: yes, I can make hat/scarf sets, too—just ask for a quote.)

#small business #crafting #crochet #support small business #your commission lets me fill my gas tank and build my dream vegetable garden #no superyachts are nurtured by the purchase of this item

[fencer-x]

"Sasaki and Miyano the Movie ~ Graduation Arc" ~ Day 1 Report

So I got up bright and early (WAY brighter and WAY earlier than I would have liked) to trudge through the cold and chill to Grand Sunshine Cinema to catch the very first showing of the Sasaki to Miyano movie!

Curious about what made the cut and what didn't? Wanna spoil yourself rotten? Then hop behind the cut!

This hour-long movie (yup, just 60 minutes) started out with a roughly 10-minute short focusing on Hirano and his adorable, smitten roomie Kagiura in what amounted to an animated rendition of the KagiHira shorts from the first few volumes of the Sasaki and Miyano manga (up to the extra in volume 3 to be precise). This doesn't bode super well for them getting their own anime, but it doesn't rule it out by any means, as Volume 1 of their manga doesn't require having read these previous extras. Just something to keep in mind!

Points I noticed in this short:

they spent like 30% of the animation budget on Kagi fondling Hirano's ear. A good use of resources imho.

Kagi looks...different? Not very different, and not in a bad way, but it felt like something was off. His hair seemed much darker, closer to black than in previous instances?? Maybe I'm just getting old and need glasses tho.

SHIRAHAMA.

NIIBASHI. TALKING AND MOVING AND BEING A DIVA. We love to see it.

Now it was SasaMyaa time!

The movie opens with chapter 33, as Miyano waits to see Sasaki off at the train station for his entrance exam and progresses from there. Things felt very smooth, more than I would have expected for cramming these chapters into the equivalent of two anime episode, so props!

They also lovingly animated all of the stupid background character shenanigans, like the guys stacking oranges from Chapter 33 page 9. What a ridiculous thing to include. I love them for this.

One critique I did have, though: the animation level was the same as in the anime. Oftentimes (but certainly not always) the animation is much greater quality in movies than in the original anime; was kind of hoping that would be the case here, but alas!

The hair discussion made it in--including Sasaki touching Miyano's neck and Miyano freaking out about it.

You can feel Floor approaching as Sasaki steadily begins tightening his straps, warning himself he needs to rein it in and he's not allowed to touch Miyano any more than he has until he passes his entrance exam. It's palpable. I love it.

Sasaki's cold is shown in living, loving color, as is the near-miss with his sister almost barging in on them sharing a kiss.

The Valentine's Day chapter is so lovely too--we finally FINALLY get to meet Mamano (whose name IIRC from the credits is revealed to be 由紀, possibly pronounced Yuki or Miyuki), and she. is. ADORABLE. So loving and upbeat and absolutely accepting of her son when he admits that the person he's making the chocolates for is a boy: "It's nice being in love, isn't it? Your mom's in love with your dad too~"

Not to be missed is the super-DUPER awkward conversation between Sasaki and Ogasawara that made me want to just crawl inside my seat back and never come out.

But that paled in comparison to FLOOR.

Floor was never gonna be much more graphic than it was in the manga, so stop your hoping right there. We got a little bit of movement in things like Sasaki gently lowering Miyano to the floor and cradling his head, or their twined fingers squeezing. It didn't need more than it was, though. There was a lovely soundtrack, Sasaki's thoughts, and really damn good animation. What do I mean by 'really damn good animation' if nothing really changed from the original manga?

Well. The full page I lied panel got A MASSIVE GLOW-UP. Because THIS is what it looked like in the movie:

Everything in grayscale monotone, except for the eyes, which were a vibrant rainbow hue. GORGEOUS STUFF. Print it out and laminate it.

Miyano's birthday is celebrated in Sasaki's room--which leads to the confrontation with his sister and their fight. The flashback was much briefer than it was in the manga, but they kept the important parts, and it did its job. And what's most important is that Shuumei-san and Yoshikazu were retained, spoken in loving tones that I need to hear on repeat.

The movie ended with the graduation chapter, more Yoshikazus and Shuumei-sans, Hirano being summoned by Kagi with his personal ringtone (which didn't sound very special actually, just a different one from usual probably--Hirano doesn't seem the type to download a super special original ringtone, but he'd definitely choose something other than default).

I expected the memories of Sasaki and Miyano's history together as they roamed the empty halls to play out as flashbacks to scenes from the anime. And it did--kind of. What they actually did was show the boys walking around, and overlaid on the same frames as the current couple, we saw them in the past with a grainy filter in the same scene. This little touch was enough to get me really emotional, something I hadn't expected--their old selves were so different, oftentimes much sadder or uncomfortable (like Sasaki in the bathroom, trying to keep himself from touching Miyano, or crushing Miyano in a hug while he was in drag), and seeing that juxtaposed against them seeming now so calm and confident and so so soft with each other...it just got me.

We got sneak peeks at Eimi and Kagi, and Kuresawa nearly got an eyeful when Sasaki whipped his jacket over Miyano to steal a final kiss, just like in the manga.

We end on Sasaki and Miyano in their cool casual clothes, heading off for a date. All is well.

Roll Credits.

#sasaki to miyano #sasaki and miyano #hirano to kagiura #hirano and kagiura #spoilers

[dollsonmain]

Wanna share a little trick I learned for doing the thin lines on simple doll eye irises for people that struggle with thin lines (me)

I changed the order I apply the colors in.

I used to do the colors in this order:

Now I do them in this order because I can use the white of the eye to clean up the eyelash lines more easily than I can make a crispy clean eyelash line that follows the white (and also struggle with thin lines anyway so if I screw up the linework at this point I don’t have to erase the entire eye to start over), and the same goes for doing the iris. It’s easier for me to do the darkest color first, then go in with a lighter color and make a wide blob that almost comes to the edge of the dark color than it is for me to apply the light color and then paint a teensy line perfectly around it. I do have to adjust the lash line sometimes, but that’s only a small bit here and there instead of having to try to trace the whites precisely. Then repeat that with the pupil color.

I got that idea from a comic that came across my dash a time or two about how sketching circles in a certain graphics program (I don’t remember which or who made the comic, I can see it in my head though) is difficult and the person demonstrated that it’s easier to use a big brush to fill in a circle then use an equally big eraser to take out the insides leaving a thin, sketchy circle outline behind.

#eyes

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 ♥

you already know what time it is!!

thank you to the lovely and incredibly talented @skyrim-forever @your-talos-is-problematic @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @mareenavee @thequeenofthewinter and @dirty-bosmer for the tags this week!! i've been having an amazing time reading/looking at all your wips, and i know i say it always but i can't wait to see how your works turn out, whether writing or art!! wednesday has easily become my favorite day of the week bc of this community <3

i'm passing the tag to @umbracirrus @wispstalk @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @orfeoarte @caliblorn @thana-topsy @totally-not-deacon @aphocryphas @gilgamish and YOU! if you wanna hop in, tag me back, and no pressure as always!!

this week i've got a bit of a treat: i'm working on some art! it's one that's really pushing me out of my comfort zone in terms of pose, expression, and perspective, and i'm extremely excited to finish it and show what i've been up to! featuring the beloved Cicero, of course

aaaaaaaand since i posted chapter 14 of Cycle of the Serpent this past weekend, i'm gonna give you guys a long snippet of chapter 23. >:3c emeros is asking for the group's imperial pardon from general tullius, and it comes with a catch. fair warning, the snippet is LONG bc i am incapable of being normal about this fic. are you ready, because i sure fucking am

Emeros stifled a scoff. Athenath did not. Instead, the Altmer made a step forward, the Bosmer eyeing him with a quirked brow. The bard said, "we helped Hadvar, he said he'd help us out if we needed it." "Precisely." Emeros leveled. "In fact, he said that should we wish to acquire an Imperial pardon, to come directly to you, General Tullius." He lowered his brow. The General waited, shifting from foot to foot as he considered this, before waving an enormous hand and resting it again on the table, facing the map sprawled before him. Wooden pegs painted in red and blues littered various points, stuck in deep with metal ends. The light landed along the metal gleam of his armor, golden color running rotten in the days glare. "You know, not many survived that place. If you could give us a hand, Legate Rikke-" he motioned to the woman beside him, stray hairs catching the light, "-could have some use for you. Besides, I'm sure your being imprisoned was all a big misunderstanding." Wyndrelis cleared his throat and looked up at the Bosmer, already making a slow, calculated stride to the General, his teeth grit together. With a deep inhale, he spoke, ignoring the light twitch of his under eye, the pittering in his chest. "General, I do not wish to waste your time, nor do I believe mine is of any less value," he began, "however, my compatriots and I have come a long way to be here. Not to mention, the scene we witnessed in your town square-" "Roggvir, the traitor," Tullius scoffed, shaking his head, disbelief clearly running courses through him, "he opened the gate for Ulfric Stormcloak after he murdered High King Torygg-" "And started this bloody Civil War proper, yes, I'm well aware of the stories, sir." Emeros interrupted in a bored drone, his wrist making idle motions. General Tullius craned his neck to peer back at Emeros, one wrinkled brow raised. His face had the character of a man well beyond the usual glory days of a soldier, a war and weather-battered face, with the scarred and sun-roughened arms to match. He was no man to be trifled with in the slightest, and yet (despite the atrocious nerves burdening his every action, the weight of every word weighed heavy on the blade the General carried to cut out sharp-tongues like his) the alchemist bothered not with patience nor obedience here. Instead, the Bosmer lifted his chin, his posture taking all the hallmarks of Aldmeri society, his arms straight at his sides, his spine taut, his eyes skimming the face of the Imperial like a bird to a field mouse among the brush. "We are here for our pardon. Nothing more."

General Tullius turned again to face the Bosmer. "And we're low on men. Our ranks are thin enough as is. If you want your pardon, you'll have to earn it." He made no motion, no step, nothing to indicate intimidation, but the bead of sweat down the back of his neck brandished his demeanor, the stress he was under already. In the shadows, Emeros observed the bruise-dark circles forming under the man's eyes over the past few weeks of sleepless nights, the kind he'd seen on many an Imperial soldier returning to Cyrodiil from the front lines in the Great War. He'd been younger then, thought nothing of the bloodshed. But here? He saw the thirty years aftermath and the absurdity of the Civil War plain and simple.

"Then I believe we are at an impasse." Emeros simply turned on his heel and began the walk down the antechamber, guards unsure whether to apprehend the Bosmer or allow him to step away. General Tullius watched in disbelief, and as the doors parted, gave a great sigh.

"Wait, now."

Emeros stood on the precipice, light filtering in, casting his shadow long behind him. He turned. "Yes, sir?"

"I understand the urgency of your request, elf-"

"Emeros Nightlock."

General Tullius sighed again. "I understand the urgency of your request, mister Nightlock, but I can't grant something like that on a whim. I need to know you're not here to cause trouble. I know your winding up on the Helgen prison cart was probably just a misunderstanding, as well as these…" he gestured vaguely to Athenath and Wyndrelis, who were halfway through the antechamber and to their friends side when he'd turned back at the General's request, "…fine young people. But until I can verify that you've no intentions to make me regret that decision…"

"Ah," Emeros ticked, "a deed for a deed." He shut the doors, and made a solid march back to the war room as though nothing had happened. "Really, General, I would prefer if you had said so in the first place."

General Tullius inhaled deeply through his nose, leveling out whatever turmoil brewed behind his cold exterior. He made a motion to the Nord, Legate Rikke, who watched the trio with bewildered amusement. "You will speak to the Legate here, and do what she asks. Only then, can I grant your pardon."

"Thank you for your time, General Tullius." Emeros approached the Legate with a polite smile, the kind that barely graced his eyes, and spoke again. "What can we do for you, Legate Rikke?"

The Legate, her eyes keenly examining the three before her, barely tamped down the burgeoning smirk on her lips. "You three survived Helgen?" She shifted her light-hued gaze between their faces. Wyndrelis' nervous fidgeting, Athenath's fingers combing through his dark curls, and Emeros' cold expression, his posture high and solid - he silently hoped the shaking palms eluded her. "Not many made it out alive, you know. I've got a good feeling about you three, and I don't often get good feelings about anything. A warrior knows to trust her gut."

"Legate Rikke, I appreciate the sentiment deeply, but I would like to know what it is you're expecting us to… Do, exactly." Emeros watched the Legate as she lifted her brow, internally mulling something over before she spoke up again.

"You know, bravado gets soldiers killed."

"Fascinating. I will note that down for any soldiers I may meet."

"Emeros," Athenath hissed quietly, tugging his arm. The Bosmer seemed to come back to the room around him, as though he had been operating in some sort of pre-determined mode, a Dwemer automata wound up and gaining sentience. For a moment, his eyes flashed cold-sweat panic to the Altmer, then narrowed sternly. He returned his gaze to the Legate.

"Well," Legate Rikke breathed, sliding a palm over the map before her, "I'm sending you to clear out Fort Hraagstad. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpses."

An icy fear grasped the trio, but Emeros merely cleared his throat and spoke again. "What is the purpose of this assignment?"

"The ancients built many of the fortresses that dot the landscape of Skyrim. Sadly, most have fallen into disrepair. And nearly all have been overrun with bandits or other vagabonds. Fort Hraagstad is one of the few that remains mostly intact. We're going to install a garrison there, but first, you three are going to clean out the bandits that have moved in."

"Mark it on our map, and we'll be off by morning." Emeros made a gesture behind himself, Wyndrelis fumbling with the map he tugged from his pocket, passing it to the Bosmer. He allowed Legate Rikke to make scratches along the surface with a quill, easy lines detailing the best path up to the fort, her face stern as she passed it back over to him.

"Good luck."

#skyrim #tesblr #tes v #cicero #legate rikke #general tullius #skyrim fic #ficblr #writeblr #skyrim fanfic #skyrim fanart #my art #my writing #cycle of the serpent #oc ; emeros #oc ; athenath #oc ; wyndrelis #bishop.txt #idk why the second part under the readmore isnt indenting but every time i indent it and format it tumblr flat out wont save the post #so uh theres that <3 #anyways if you read this entire post i am making you a Cup of Wip Motivation Tea

[evangelinesbible]

DRESS YOURSELF BASED ON ASTROLOGY

DEFAULT STYLE:

Our basic style and the style that suits us the best in everyday wear

VENUS/MC

Ex. My Venus and MC is Taurus so earth tones, furs, comfortable, and classy looks. Expensive and elegant looking. Accessories galore.

Celeb Ex. Princess Diana (Venus) and Marylin Monroe (MC)

RISING

Ex. My rising is Virgo and pairs very well with my Venus and MC. More earth tones, functional fashion, clean cut, and planned/precise looks. Virgo also rules the stomach/waist so my best looks involve either low rise pants and cropped tops. But that’s for me personally

Celeb Ex. Bella Hadid

1ST HOUSE PLACEMENTS

Ex. I have Jupiter in my first house, still in Virgo so what’s above still applies but since Jupiter rules expansion and the first house rules appearance outfits that accentuates certain body parts benefit me. So for me wearing big/exaggerated looks, and wearing big earrings/hairstyles to compensate for my big head 🧍🏽‍♀️(it’s not really that big lol) and wearing outfits that flatter my butt and legs since Sagittarius (which is rules by Jupiter) rules over thighs butt and legs

Celeb Ex. Rihanna

SEXY/ BOLD STYLE:

The style we don’t wear everyday, the style we wear when we want to feel sexy, confident or bold

APHRODITE

Ex. My Aphrodite is in Aries so wearing reds, oranges, bold outfits, cut outs, and dominant looking pieces

Celeb Ex. Rihanna

LILITH

Ex. My Lilith is in Gemini so wearing yellows, purples, pinks, and playful patterns.

Celeb Ex. Megan Fox

OPPOSITE OF VENUS

Ex. The opposite sign of Taurus is Scorpio so black is the obvious staple piece but also wearing sharp makeup and mysterious/ intriguing outfits

Celeb Ex. Ariana Grande

This is a pretty good templet to use when you wanna dress your best. Just look up your placements, learn what colors and aesthetics match the signs and find some celebrities that have the same placements.

HAVE FUN!

- ⚜️💫⚜️

#astrology #astro observations #astro placements #aries #astro notes #astrology notes #capricorn #taurus #cancer #pisces #aphrodite #Aphrodite asteroid #lilith astrology #Lilith sign #ariana grande #princess diana #marylin monroe #rihanna #megan fox #style #fashion #outfit