#at a certain point i thought i was one of two maybe 3 people who liked her

[viviennevermillion]

flirting with them

notes: i present to you, the 3 absolute worst (best) people to flirt with: "cranky & in denial", "goes through a crisis when you compliment him" and "utterly confused but ready to marry you if you ask"

if you like my works, feel free to commission me!

contains: character x gn!reader, shameless flirting

characters included: rollo flamm, azul ashengrotto, malleus draconia

word count: 2.7k

warnings: glorious masquerade spoilers, enemies to lovers with rollo

dark content creators & consumers do not interact

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Listen, Rollo goes through enough of a crisis already over the fact that he likes you, one of those insufferable Night Raven College students who use magic so carelessly and gaze at it with wonder and excitement. But you flirting with him? He goes through all 5 stages of grief over that.

Up to the point where you start actively teasing him, Rollo does a good job at convincing himself that the reason he’s just particularly fixated on you of all the NRC students, is because he just hates you the most. Nevermind the way his heart skips a beat when you smile at him while touring the City of Flowers before he revealed his true colors to you. How you had invited him to sit with you and share some local food as you exchanged experiences and thoughts. 

He tries to ignore the way his heart is beating faster when he sees you at the Masquerade Ball. He tells himself it’s likely just that he’s anxious about not having succeeded with his plan. He pushes down the idea of kissing you breathless and being held in your arms gently as you run your hands through his hair and kiss his forehead- 

God, what am I thinking…they’re my enemy, he thinks to himself. With a hateful expression he makes his way over to you, determined to tell you how he’s not done yet and one day he’ll erase magic from this very world. That you’ll fear his name and- oh god you’re winking at him. 

He’s blushing furiously but he still has that angry expression on his face, so it just looks a little like Riddle when it’s off with your head. His mind is going haywire though. They winked at me…oh no…oh fuck…abort immediately, he decides to just avoid you and glare at you from a distance but at this point it is too late. A certain hunter had already told you how Rollo had been staring at you this entire evening whenever you weren’t looking and that he “probably wanted to have a dance with you”

So you make your way over to him and ask him. His heart skips a beat and he wants to reject you and tell you off but what he wants even more is to indulge you and have a nice evening with you. “What makes you think I’d want to dance with you?”, he spits out and crosses his arms. Yeah. That’ll work. Good job, Rollo.

“I don’t know, you seem pretty desperate”, you shrug, trying to suppress a smirk. The AUDACITY, he thinks but can’t say anything in response, just taking your hand and starting to dance with you. He remains silent and you poke his cheek. “You can be so cute when you stop being cranky for two minutes”, you tease and he can feel his cheeks burning. At this point you’re well aware that he’s got a little crush on you, because against his own perception of things, he wasn’t exactly subtle. 

He looks after you with rage written on his face and confusion in his heart as you and the other NRC students leave to head back to your own school. That’s all he can do. Watch you leave.

What did he care anyway? You were just an obnoxious magic enthusiast who- 

He gazes in surprise upon the small rose that had been placed on his desk. It is definitely enchanted, has a soft glow and some of the petals are floating around it. There is a little note attached to it: Thank you for the dance, Rollo ♡ - Love, y/n.

He looks at the mirror in shock when he notices the soft smile on his face upon seeing your note. He hates magic so much. But maybe…maybe he could make an exception for you and you only. 

Definitely rants to the gargoyles about how much he hates you and the way your eyes sparkle in the sun and how your laugh sounds like a thousand beautiful symphonies. Yeah he definitely hates you, no doubt.

He sometimes posts about school events on his Magicam and on pictures he’s on he tends to find little compliments from you. This makes his day every single time but god forbid anyone notices.

He eventually starts conversing with you over text, having quite a few long conversations and bonding despite how much he wants to deny it. You’re still flirting with him shamelessly and never miss out on wishing him a good night with a heart emoji attached. He sends one back once or twice, claiming his hand slipped on the keyboard.

When he sees you again, at the culture festival, he sits at the table with you and a couple of your friends. You ask him whether he is going to watch the VDC and he insists he sees no reason in watching a singing competition. “I mean we could always go backstage and kiss for a while if you’d prefer that”, you say nonchalantly and so casually, it makes Rollo choke on his drink. The other students at the table are definitely staring at you two and Rollo wishes he could merge with the ground at this moment.

He pulls you aside after the incident to a hallway where there’s no people. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”, he hisses at you and clutches onto his handkerchief until his knuckles turn white. “I apologize for putting you on the spot”, you say sincerely, “you look pretty when you’re flustered, though.” “Do you ever shut up?”, his breath hitches in his throat. 

“If you take me up on my offer I would”, you wink at him and find yourself with Rollo’s lips on yours within seconds. As soon as he gets to kiss you, the very thing he had been longing for for months now, it’s like a switch flips in his brain. His kiss is fiery and aggressive at first but then melts into your touch just like he had wanted for so long, kissing you softly as he feels his hands shake. He feels you smile into the kiss upon noticing how gentle and loving he is now and Rollo holds onto you, resting his head against your shoulder breathlessly as soon as the kiss was over. Both of you remain silent for a while before Rollo speaks quietly, his voice shaking: “I love you.” 

You chuckle and pat his head. “I know”, you kiss his forehead gently and he closes his eyes.

Rollo hated magic, he knew that much. But somehow every moment with you felt so magical and made him so happy…

Azul is used to people being mean to him and also to casual, neutral interactions but never has anyone been so blatantly verbally affectionate with him and this man doesn’t know how to handle it. 

It all started when he had asked you to come to the Mostro Lounge VIP room as Valentine’s Day was getting closer, because several people had declared that they were ready to sign a contract with him if he could get them a date with you. So he presented the terms to you and offered you help in a class you were bad at. He didn’t think you’d accept so easily. 

“So, let me get this straight, all I’d have to do for this is to go on a date with one of those guys involved in the whole contract thing with you?”, you raised an eyebrow and Azul nodded, extending his hand to you to seal the deal, as you had blatantly refused to sign a contract. But that didn’t matter. After all, he’d already get what he wanted from whoever you would pick to go on a date with. You shook his hand and Azul smiles at you. “Well then, shall I show you who was ready to make a contract with me for your company?”, he showed you his typical business smile and you just replied dryly. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve already picked.”

Azul was confused. “But you don’t even know who asked?”, he raised an eyebrow and threw Jade and Floyd a questioning glare. They didn’t seem to know what was going on either. “I said ‘someone involved in the whole contract thing’”, you reminded him, “do you have any plans on Friday?” Azul’s face fell. He was already blushing and glaring at the twins who were snickering quietly. “No?”, he croaked and pushed his glasses back with his eyes widened. “Great!”, you smiled at him and got up, waving him goodbye, “I’ll see you at 8 then? I’ll pick you up at Mostro Lounge!” 

As soon as you had closed the door behind you, Jade and Floyd started wheezing uncontrollably. “What just happened?”, Jade asked under his breath, “did they just scam you into a date?” Azul’s expression darkened, as did his blush. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT JUST HAPPENED”, his voice cracked and he wanted to curl up in his octopus pot, “stop laughing.”

Once you've learnt of his past, you've become much more gentle and less teasing with your flirting. He deserved the reassurance that you were serious and genuinely liked him. You’d often tell him that you thought he looked nice when he wore a new outfit and complimented him for his achievements in class and his business strategies. You even went as far as to tell him that his octopus form probably looked cute. He just didn’t know what to do with you. 

Upon being asked whether you were trying to make fun of him, you looked into his eyes with a serious expression and told him you meant everything you had said to him. 

As he took you and your friends to the Atlantica Memorial Museum to return the elementary school photo, Grim was excited. “Maybe we’ll bring back some sort of treasure from the ocean!”, he exclaimed. “But we already have Azul”, you insisted and the octopus merman blushed immediately. “Please just stop”, he begged and sighed, although your words definitely made him feel good, “not in front of people…”

Over such a short time he had already learnt to expect your flirting. That didn’t mean it made him any less flustered. 

Once you had returned the photo and had a moment alone with him, you took his hands into yours and told him you were proud of how far he had come. Azul squeezed your hand gently, a silent ‘thank you’ for the love and affection you were so ready to give to him after all of his hardships.

Malleus doesn’t actively recognize your flirting as such. Don’t get me wrong, he’s so on board with this and really flattered but until you tell him directly what you feel for him, he still assumes you just see him as a good friend.

“Shall I give you a blessing?”, he smirks as he asks you this question on your birthday. You cup his face gently. “You’re my blessing, Malleus”, you say with a soft smile on your face and Malleus looks at you with his signature surprised expression. Lilia chuckles, mumbling about how bold you are. Malleus is just awestruck. He doesn’t know what to say at first. He’s blushing and then takes your hands in his. “Thank you. I feel honored. It means a lot to me to hear that”, he says genuinely and his thumb brushes over your hand softly.

Malleus loves your little affections so much. He didn’t know how starved he was for them until he experienced them for the first time. He treasures so much how ready you are to speak your mind, especially when it comes to telling him how you feel about him. Little does he know that’s only a small part of how much you truly love him. 

You were a little late to the Masquerade Ball during the student exchange meeting, eventually opening the big door to the entrance hall of Noble Bell College for your big entrance. Malleus spots you almost immediately, marveling at how beautiful you looked, dressed up for the occasion. Your eyes meet his across the hall and you make your way over to him straight away, taking his hand in yours. “I really like this song they’re playing right now. I think it’s time for our first dance of the evening”, you smirk at him, just waiting for him to follow you. Sebek is yelling at you how you could possibly have the audacity to not just assume you could dance with him but not even ask Prince Malleus Draconia ‘Would you please share a dance with me?’ first. But Malleus adores when you’re bold. After all this time of people being too afraid to even talk to him, he’s fascinated how assured you are to approach him with your wishes and requests with no hesitation. 

“You seem quite determined”, he chuckles and leads you to the dancefloor. He’s absolutely relishing in the fact that you walked into this event dead-set on getting a dance with him, implying your upcoming dance wouldn’t be the last one that night either. It makes him feel so special. More than the treatment he receives from others as a prince does. Because it feels like you have seen right through him, accepted every part of him and decided you wanted all of it. 

You dance through the evening with Malleus, telling him how much you liked the song he presented as a gift for the other students. “I could listen to your voice for hours”, you brush a strand of hair out of his face and Malleus leans into your touch. “I would gladly sing for you again. You need only ask”, he smirks. 

You later stop by his room, knocking on the door softly. Malleus opens it, having taken off the heavier, pompous parts of his masquerade outfit; now only dressed in a pair of black pants and the see-through black shirt worn under the complex and ornate fabrics of the costume. His hair is slightly disheveled and he has his bangs pushed up, letting you see his dragon markings. Upon seeing you, he instantly smiles. “You look so beautiful”, you mouth, making Malleus chuckle and smirk at you. “So do you”, he insists. “I’m never going to overshadow the talking gargoyle but I’ve made peace with that”, you sigh and step into the room, Malleus closing the door behind you. He laughs at your comment, then gazes out of the window. 

“The night in the City of Flowers seems to show a different expression than during the day”, he says and turns to you, seeing you smile at him with a mischievous expression, “that face…you are also interested?” His smirk matches yours now. “Malleus, what do you think I came here for at this hour, hmm?”, you chuckle, pulling out a map from your pocket, “so…you can teleport us out of Noble Bell College without being seen right?” Malleus puts his hands onto his hips. “Nothing easier than that.”

After you explored the city at night, you end up sitting at the roof of a tall building, looking down on the beautiful city. “I’m very glad I got to share these memories with you”, Malleus takes your hand in his again and you look into his eyes, cupping his cheek gently. “You’re so precious to me…you have no idea”, you mumble quietly, smiling at him fondly; filled with unconditional love. Malleus squeezes your hand and looks at you with the same expression. “I think I’m starting to understand”, he whispers as the sun rises on the horizon.

Malleus loves when you’re bold with your flirting, he loves when you show your teasing side and flatter him with a clever line. But he just as much craves the moments when you’re calm and serious, just smiling at him and letting him know how much he means to you, even if he doesn’t know yet whether you intend for it to be romantic or see him as a good friend. He treasures your affection and how you’re unafraid to give him your love and appreciation in a way no one ever has to him. 

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x you #twst x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia headcanons #rollo flamm x reader #rollo flamm #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #rollo x reader #twst rollo #azul ashengrotto headcanons #azul ashengrotto x you #azul ashengrotto

[hausofneptune]

"sweet" takes / aspects and placements that deserve more love!

[astro notes no. 004]

since i did that “spicy” takes post i wanted to also make a post in defense of the negative takes i hear about certain signs/placements and showing some love to the ones that i feel like don't get as much appreciation as they deserve! hope y'all enjoy! ♡

disclaimers | masterlist | ask

[content warning: abuse, addiction, self-harm/suicide. nothing detailed or explicit, just a warning for those who want to avoid these topics.]

aquarius placements are not unemotional sociopaths and honestly this is such a goofy ass take. aquarius’ archetype literally centers around their need to advance society and wanting to help those around them as a means to do so. can their saturnian influence make them come off as cold in their approach sometimes? sure. but the whole “aquarius doesn’t have emotions and doesn’t care about anyone’s feelings” doesn’t make any type of sense considering the fact that aquarius craves connection with others in order to feel fulfilled

speaking of saturnian influence, y’all need to check up on your saturnian friends, especially if you’re below the age of 30. people tend to bring up how destructive and chaotic pluto is and the effect it can have on you if it’s tightly aspecting your personal planets, but i feel like people overlook the way that saturnian energy literally starts chipping away at you the moment you pop out the coochie. a lot of saturnians will consciously put too much on their plate because they don’t know how to function without overworking themselves, or, they’re distracting themselves from heavy emotions that they don’t want to feel. the idea of being alone with their thoughts is the most terrifying thing to them, and they would definitely benefit from having people around them that can slow them down and help them relax

to any parents (or people who work with children), please be gentle with your water sign babies. especially the scorpios and pisces. i feel like we don’t give children enough credit for how intelligent they actually are, and when it comes to water sign children i promise you, they know exactly what the fuck is going on. they know that you’re stressed out, they can recognize the energy in the room, and they’re internalizing all of your emotions and can be more prone to feeling overstimulated because of it. be patient with them, and as a former water sign baby myself, give them a hug for me <3

and since we’re giving out hugs, i gotta give a virtual one to my pisces and virgo placements. pisces and virgo are both signs of service, and typically opt to suffer in silence for the sake of those around them. i feel like pisces is the “worst” of the two, as pisces struggles with boundaries, and even when we’re being mistreated or abused by others we can literally convince ourselves that that’s actually not the case and that everything’s fine. pisces is also the only water sign that doesn’t have “armor” (cancer [the crab] has its shell, and scorpio [the scorpion] has its exoskeleton, claws, and stinger), which results in us getting hurt a lot. it’s typically why some pisces placements are prone to escapist tendencies, addiction, self-harm, and suicidal ideation. but pisces is the oldest of the zodiac, and there’s so much wisdom and spiritual knowledge that we unlock once we grow and evolve enough to “swim away” from the shit that doesn’t serve us

and i bring this up because i feel like pisces is constantly coded as “delusional” or “hyper-emotional”, and i know y’all love pointing out how “judgemental” and “nitpicky” virgo is. and while those stereotypes can be true depending on the person, i feel like the amount of energy pisces and virgo put into helping other people is constantly overshadowed by whatever “flaws” they may have. there was a tweet i read that said “maybe the final stage in your healing journey is finally telling people to fuck off”, that’s very much so the advice i’d give to pisces and virgo. your worth is not intrinsically linked to how much pain you can withstand or how much abuse you can tolerate from people who claim to love you. you deserve so much more and i promise there’s something bigger and better waiting for you on the other side of what it is that you’re currently settling for

i feel like the importance of 12H, neptune, water sign placements can often get overlooked in comparison to more practical, “realistic” planetary/sign placements. it’s definitely important to have balanced, grounded energy in your chart alongside these types of placements, but i feel like people underestimate how powerful it is to have spiritual and creative placements as well. and while these can be difficult aspects to master, i feel like once you do get to a point where you’ve done the work it can not only make you an incredible artist, but an extremely compassionate, empathetic healer. people with these placements tend to go through a lot, and experience an insane amount of turmoil. but no matter how tired you are, and no matter how misunderstood or lost you may feel, you’re here to serve a greater purpose and your craft is sacred. you have tools at your disposal that it takes people years upon years to develop, and it’s not something that should be taken for granted

i'll most likely end up doing a part two to this, but that's all i've got for now. as always, if anyone has any of the placements/aspects mentioned in this post i'd love to hear how they manifest in your life, and if you have any input in general feel free to let me know!

#astro notes #astro observations #nepnotes #nepnotes3 #astrology aspects #astrology #aquarius placements #saturn #saturn astrology #saturn aspects #12H placements #saturn placements #scorpio placements #scorpio astrology #12H astrology #pisces placements #pisces astrology #virgo placements #virgo astrology #water signs #water sign placements #neptune #neptune aspects #neptune astrology #birth chart notes #birth chart observations #astrology observations #astrology notes #birth chart reading

[lazyflower48]

Dazai and Ranpo: The Two Geniuses of the ADA

The thought about making a post about Dazai and Ranpo's teamwork has been plaguing my mind for a while now, and so I finally found some time and decided to go through with it.

So let's talk about one of my favourite underrated duos for a moment. The two geniuses of the ADA- Dazai and Ranpo. Two people who make a wonderful team and are actually, in my opinion, the backbone of the agency.

What I find interesting is that (though I believe that Dazai respects and admires all members of the ADA) Dazai openly admires Ranpo A LOT. He's always quick to praise Ranpo (basically fanboying over him and it's quite adorable to see Dazai gush over someone like that other than Oda) and in 'Dazai's Entrance Exam' we see him being surprised over the fact that Ranpo's ability is not actually an ability and we see him further praise Ranpo's intellect after finding that out.

Despite the fact that Dazai is a huge mystery, even to the people around him, Ranpo figured out that there was something up with Dazai in just a single glance (in 'Dazai's entrance exam'). And despite knowing that Dazai was probably hiding a sinister past, he didn't press him any further for details (probably in order to respect his privacy or his wish to not disclose his past OR maybe due to the the fact that knowing Dazai, he most likely wouldn't answer truthfully even if questioned about it)

What I also love is that even though both of them are extremely intelligent, their intellect differs in such a way that Ranpo is a master of deduction and Dazai is a master of manipulation (as stated by Kunikida in 'The Daily Routine of the Detective Agency'). However, one thing both of them share in common is that they both felt isolated due to their nature.

They may have limited interactions but their interactions are always my favourite, for instance-

1. Dazai's entrance exam - Dazai's admiration and respect towards Ranpo

2. Season 1 - Murder on D-Street - Dazai showing a good understanding of Ranpo's deduction process and acknowledging that Ranpo caught onto more details than him

3. Season 2 - "Mountains or sea?" " Sea. "

Showing their unspoken communication. They can read each other's minds at this point lol.

4. Season 3 - Ranpo basically acknowledging that Dazai would be a tough opponent to go up against by comparing Fyodor to him (sort of praising his intellect in a way)

5. Season 5 - The Strongest Man in the Agency- Ranpo

Dazai keeping an eye on Fyodor while leaving the rest to Ranpo

Dazai relying on his allies- trusting Ranpo to negotiate with Bram in order to undo the vampire curse.

6. Dead Apple - Ranpo seeing through Dazai's plan beforehand.

7. 55 minutes - Seeing through upcoming events beforehand, one thing Dazai made sure was to inform Ranpo about the whole fiasco on Standard Island in order to save the Agency in the end.

Also, sidenote: I found out that the Dazai and Ranpo duo is named Souheki, which translates to double jade. Now, I'm not sure if this information is fanon or canon (feels more like fanon tbh but I really like it because it's a pretty name)

Anyway, one thing we can say for sure is that as long as the two geniuses of the Agency- Souheki work together, the ADA will most likely remain undefeated cause no one really does it like them

Lastly, just some food for thought. I've always wondered how Dazai would react if he found out that Ranpo met Oda TWICE and the second time he met him was right before Oda went on to his certain death.

Honestly, I would LOVE to see more fleshed out and direct interactions between these two.

#i wish tumblr allowed more than 10 photos in a post cause I wanted to add so many more #cant believe this has been sitting in draft for like 6 months now #the two geniuses of the ADA>>> #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd meta #bsd analysis #bsd dazai #bsd ranpo #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #ranpo edogawa #souheki #bsd ramblings #bsd s5

[disniq]

heyyy it's the tropes jason anon again back at it with a new question! what quotes from the comic books would you say describe jason & his philosophy well? thank you so, so much for helping me out ❤

Hi again Anon!

Full disclosure here; I don't think Jason has been written consistently enough over the years to necessarily have one set, inarguable philosophy. But I do think there are certain themes that carry through.

So;

Red Hood: Lost Days #3

This is, notably, the first time Jason kills. (I'm not including Garzonas, which is debatable, or the Cheer incident, which is a retcon) He finds out his hand-to-hand teacher has a barn full of drugged children about to be sex trafficked. The cops and politicians are in on it, making lawful justice extremely unlikely, but taking out one man takes out the system. Jason crosses that line for the first time because nobody else is there to stop it, and this is the most practical route.

He does not see it as "murder" because he feels it was deserved.

Red Hood: Lost Days #4

After that line has been crossed - as Talia points out here - a pattern emerges. It's notable that Jason does not kill all his dubiously skilled teachers, only the ones he deems the worst of the worst - people deliberately and repeatedly harming everyday people, especially children.

Jason reiterates this in his famous utrh speech. He's not talking about killing every rogue, every criminal. He's talking about killing the worst of the worst, the people who can finagle their way out of the system, the people the system fails to catch.

Under the Red Hood

It would be remiss of me not to include that one time Jason killed a nazi. Good for her dot gif.

To Jason, these people are beyond the regular means of justice, so he provides his own. He stops them from hurting anybody else.

This is not an exclusively post-resurrection opinion of his, either. Jason expressed similar thoughts during his Robin run.

Batman #422 (thank you @benbamboozled 😘)

This woman, Judy, baited her sister's murderer into attacking her too and then slits his throat. She's unrepentant, and Jason agrees with her decision. (Bruce, for the record, gives a speech on how "nobody is above the law" which is. An interesting stance for an illegally operating vigilante to take lmao)

It makes sense to me that Jason, as someone who has seen the system fail repeatedly (both as a civilian and as a hero), would have those kinds of doubts. The system doesn't always work. The system often fails the most vulnerable people.

When Bruce was failed by the Gotham justice system, he became his own extra-judicial system. When Jason is failed by both the justice system *and* Bruce's own vigilante system? Why wouldn't he do the same.

Unfortunately, this thread is mostly dropped for a while with the wave of writers who either actively hate Jason and try to make him capital E Evil or who are playing shameless self insert with him, but there are two more recent panels that I want to include too;

Task Force Z #12

So, in TFZ, Jason pushes who he thinks is Bane off a roof for killing Alfred. It... is not actually Bane, but instead the brainwashed former corpse of Gotham re-reanimated via comicbook science and. You know what, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that Jason regrets killing Gotham because he didn't deserve it, but reiterates that he will kill the real Bane if he gets a chance.

Jason sees killing as something he can do that others can't, that others maybe *shouldn't* have to do.

The Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing #8

And finally, I adore this little beat in JTMWSL. This is something Jason thinks about. He's not just some brute that doesn't understand that "killing is bad". He thinks about it, reads theory about it. He sees that between the black and white, there are many, many shades of gray.

He understands that people who don't kill with their own hands aren't necessarily good people - like these cops here, gleefully waiting for him to be killed in prison. And that the people who *do* get their hands dirty aren't necessarily the bad guys - like poor Judy.

And I think he probably varies where he places himself on that scale at any given moment.

#I'm sorry anon none of these are strictly speaking quotes but this is what I've got lol #jason todd #asked and answered #long post #my meta

[shewritesfics]

Hypnotize

Spencer Reid/Reader

Summary: Reader drinks a little bit too much, Spencer gets jealous.

Warnings: Alcohol!! Weed!! Drugs!! Cursing!!

Notes: Hey everyone! I’ve never written for Spencer Reid before, so please let me know any feedback you have! Hope you enjoy <3

If there is anything the team knows, you were a lightweight. What they didn’t know was that you had a little more fun than the rest of them on nights out. Yes, you are an FBI agent, and yes, that comes in handy. You had been going to the bathroom more than usual, blaming it on ‘breaking the seal’. In reality, you were ripping your dab pen and maybe dabbling in a bit of a party drug. So what? It’s your night out! You deserved to have a little fun.

If Spencer was being honest, he only came to keep an eye on you. You’re strong and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, he knows that! But you were prone to certain situations. You’re gorgeous, anyone with eyes could tell. They don’t appreciate it as much as he does.

You rejoin the gang at the booth they were sitting at, pulling up a chair to the end of the table for an easy escape to the bathroom again. Spencer had been watching you, keeping a close eye on how many breaks you went to, how long they lasted, and how many people you talked to on the way back. For your safety, of course! Not that he was jealous by how much everyone else caught your attention.

You take a shot and slam the glass down on the tale, wiping your mouth when you’re done. “Guys! I seriously feel like we need to dance..” You slur out and point at the dancefloor.

Chuckles erupt from the table. “I agree with blackout for once.” You scowl at the nickname Derek had given you.

“First off, I’m not blackout.” You squint at him and point a finger in his face, he smiles at you. “Second off, I’m gonna dance.” You quickly rise from your seat, grabbing the end of it to regain your balance real quick, before flashing a smile at the team. You notice Spencer’s eyebrows furrow and he watches you, in almost a pleading way. You brush it off and head straight for the dancefloor. Spencer straightens in his seat once you’re out of view.

He’s always been partial to you. Standing closer in meetings, always grabbing the seat across from you so he can admire you. Making you a cup of coffee, leaving sticky notes of awful jokes on your computer. Both are oblivious to the blushes when you catch eye contact or how you two slowly get closer until you’re practically touching. The team noticed, they even had a bet going on for who would cave first.

And tonight, it seemed like Spencer was going to.

The music is loud, the bass is shaking your feet on the floor, and your heartbeat pulsing with the rhythm A quick drag from your pen sets you in the perfect mood, closing your eyes and letting the music take over your body. Time is floating at this point. You’re a sight to uphold. A beautiful person dancing alone, obviously faced at this point by how your body sways. People are taking notice, one guy specifically has been eyeing you all night. Now that you’re alone he swoops in. You’re so focused on the music, your breath escaping you with each boost in the music, when someone comes up behind you. It starts shy, keeping a distance but holding your waist with a hand, waiting for your permission to continue. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer is watching.

He’s glaring from the booth, it’s crazy how the mystery man has not noticed the heat pouring from his eyes. A scowl is on his face, and his thoughts are running wild. He’s had a few drinks, but that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is you, and how someone else is touching you.

It should be him.

You back slowly into the stranger's arms. You don’t care who it is, but it’s someone. And that’s what matters. You haven’t been drinking like this for no reason. Truth be told, you’re lonely. It’s hard to come home from such a demanding job just to be alone. You haven’t been touched in months. This stranger reminds you that you’re real.

Spencer noticed you got closer. He’s moved from the booth now, just to the outskirts of the circle. The team can’t see where he went, and you haven’t noticed yet either. His hands are flexing in anger. Why are you so okay with a stranger touching you like this? And the fact you haven’t checked is not safe. That’s what he’ll tell himself anyway, It’s all for your safety. Nothing more. He’s moving in now, pushing past the bouncing bodies with only one thing in mind. He pushes the stranger off of you and grabs your hand quickly. He rushes to the exit and pulls you along with him, despite your confusion.

“Spencer! I was dancin-” You start to protest.

“Do you even know who that was?” You take in a deep breath, facing him. “How he was touching you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You cross your arms.

“Yes, it does!” His voice cracks lightly. He’s still avoiding your eye.

“Why should it?” You quickly shoot back in a huff. You were having fun! Spencer has no right to tear you away from that, not after the week you had.

“Because it should be me!” He yells and faces you. You straighten as his voice rises. Your eyes soften as he looks away from you, quickly holding his arms close to his chest. “It should be me.” He whispers this time, focusing his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him.

It’s silent for a moment. To be quite fair, you are pretty much gone. For all you know, you could still be on the dancefloor, just wishing this would happen and yearning for the day you finally catch his eye. You’ve imagined this many times now. Wishing he could sense your emotions from miles away, or seeing how often your eyes linger on him. Maybe it’s shameful, the way you ache for something more than a friendship. How often you imagine his arms wrapped around you in bed at night. The way his lips would feel so soft against yours. The way his hands would fit perfectly to yours. How your breathing would fall in rhythm as you fall asleep in his arms. How he would smell. How his hair would feel tickling your neck. Maybe his voice dips deeper when he’s asleep, does it have a rasp when it wakes up too? You’d still be draped across him in the morning, waking up first and taking in how the sun shines as if it was made just for him. How you would-

Spencer huffs and turns to face you, noticing your silence. It’s irrational how he’s expecting anything from you at this moment. He counted the shots, the singles, the doubles you drank. The way you sway and blink slowly. Your face is flushed, he thinks it’s from the alcohol.

“Spencer. I-” You stop for a second. Your hand comes up to your head, holding it straight so the thoughts stick with you. “You have no idea.” You blink harshly, focusing on your heartbeat and your breathing. You laugh at yourself, and the situation at hand. Why, god, why does this have to happen when you’re shitfaced? You've played this scenario in your head so many times, reciting the perfect monologue to convey the depths of your emotions.

“You’re everything.” You breathe out and open your eyes to him in front of you, holding out his hand for you to balance yourself on. You watch his eyes and slowly reach your hand out towards his. Your fingers dance along the palm of his hand, and you don’t miss the way his arms get covered in goosebumps at your touch. A smile takes over your features.

“You’re everything to me.” You confess. The street is quiet, and the lamppost near you flickers. You can hear his breathing become deeper. “It’s torture.” You chuckle out and avoid his eye. “There isn’t a day that goes by without me thinking about you.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk, your head shaking slightly as you try to gather your thoughts. “I see you in everything I do. You haunt me everywhere I go, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. If my head were a garden, all the flowers would be every time I’ve thought of you. And it’s breathtaking, Spencer, it is.” You laugh slightly and look up at him, a loving smile crossing your face. “You wouldn’t believe how many flowers I keep up there.”

A confused look crosses over his face, his brows are furrowed, trying to make sense of your drunken confession. He looks away for a brief second, and your hand is already up pulling him back to you.

“Spencer, ugh, listen to me.” You cup his face in your hands. “It’s- I can’t even put it into words.” You breathe out a frustrated sigh. “My heart belongs to you. The second you said my name, I was bewitched.” You take in a deep breath, softening the grip on his face. “Spencer- I…” You trail off for a second. Your words are flying in your mind faster than you can process. “I love you. With every fiber of my being, I love you.”

His eyes widen. Maybe you were drunker than he thought. He’s watched you for so long now. Always second-guessing how close the two of you were. “Y/N please, you’ve been drinking-” He tries to dismiss you.

“And so have you? Why does that not make my confession any less real? How would drinking cancel anything I feel for you? Spencer, God, my heart bursts when I see you. I get so overcome with emotion that it doesn’t know where to go. My skin feels as if it’s burning when I’m near you. My heart races when you say my name. You have consumed me, mind, body, and soul. Don’t do me the dishonor of not taking my word is truth because of a few drinks. It’s not fair, Spencer.” You frown and look down at your feet. He contemplates for a second. His hand comes up and runs through his hair. Is this real? Is this some sick joke the universe has crafted for him? Everything he has wanted since he met you is happening. You love him.

A bright smile comes over his features. His eyes light up, and the lamppost behind him makes a sort of halo. It’s fitting. He’s an angel, a heaven send, you’ve felt this since the moment you met. He’s chuckling now, watching you become lost in his face, how you blink slowly and sway lightly.

“Now you’re laughing at me…” You drawl out and lean into him. His arms open in an inviting hug and holds you close. One hand wrapped around your waist and another stroking your hair out of your face.

“God.” He laughs out. “You’re indescribable.”

You look up at him and point a finger in his face. “Well, you know what?” He giggles and guides your hand back down across him.

“What?” He smiles down at you. Your eyebrows furrow as you try to rationalize if it’s a compliment or tease.

“You-” A hiccup interrupts. “You’re just. So beautiful.” You sigh and rest your head against his chest. He laughs into your hair, you can hear his heartbeat going wild. You squeeze him tighter and take a deep breath in, the smell of his cologne comforting you and slowing down your thoughts. You look back up at him, taking in how his eyes are gazing at you so softly.

“I love you, Spencer.” You whisper into the air. He melts under your touch, and how his name rolls off your tongue. Like putting honey into his favorite cup of tea, the world just got a little sweeter. He leans in slowly, gauging your reaction. You lean up to him, standing on your tip toes. You both hesitate, breathing in each other's air.

And you kiss. He’s cupping your cheek now. It’s soft, just how you imagined. Full of unspoken feelings, hesitant about who will pull away, nervous to see if anyone crossed a boundary. But, God, you’ve prayed for this moment for so long, you’ll be damned if you lose it. You grab his face with your hands and make the kiss deeper. You can taste the whiskey he’s been nursing, and it’s perfect. Lips on lips, his hands grabbing your waist and pulling your body closer to him. You both weren’t fond of PDA, but fuck it. You’re drunk and in love. The world doesn’t exist now. The pounding from the music fades into the background, the cars driving past disappear and it’s just you and him. Kissing under the lamppost. Two idiots, who took way too long to get together.

He pulls away first, his breathing deep and he’s staring at you. “God, Y/N, I love you. I always have.” You blush deeply and pull him in for another kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and lightly pulling at his hair. A soft moan escapes his lips, which only drives you further into his arms.

You break the kiss, taking in deep breaths. “Come home with me tonight.” You demanded.

“Yes! Yeah, of course!” He squeaks out as he can feel your chest rising with your breathing. Your hand gripping the belt of his pants, keeping you close to him and steadying your balance.

“Is now a good time?” You pull out your phone and start to order a ride to your place, not even waiting for an answer.

“God, yes.” He brings you back in, He can’t get enough of you, and you can’t wait to get more of him.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid

[bidisastersanji]

"Zoro gets lost because he uses his red string of fate like a compass- and that's why Sanji always finds him" was one of the first things I posted and now it's real! I got three chapters and here's the first part below the cut. Click here to read it on AO3 if you prefer. each part is around 1.5k words. edit: part 2 here, part 3 here

Zoro has always been a simple man; one of actions over words and of tangible things over what he considers trivial. It’s therefore not surprising that, in a world where certain people are bound by fate, each in their own unique way- some rumoured to share markings on their skin, some with changing eye colours, or even some who feel phantom pains from across the sea- in such a spectacular world, Zoro doesn’t really linger on the red piece of thread tied to his pinky finger. 

The red thread hasn’t ever really been a question in his mind, it just was.  

As far back as he could remember, it’s just been there, infinitely stretching Northwards, unmoving and unseen by others. Subconsciously, he taught himself to use it as a compass to navigate his home island, Shimotsuki. He never had to remember to take it with him, and it reliably was always stretching in the same direction, which was perfectly convenient with the function he’d ascribed it. His odd way of getting around easily became second nature, a habit so deeply ingrained that he barely gave a second thought to the bright cord on his hand. 

--- 

He’s about eight years old when things change. 

The first day Zoro gets lost, he thinks he might’ve missed one of the steps he memorised, jaw tight with repressed irritation at being reprimanded for his lateness to practice. 

The second time he gets lost he’s in the forest, thick trees towering over him in all directions, and when the sun starts to lower in the sky, frustration bubbles up in his chest, tight and sour, stinging his eyes, threatening to spill out as he struggles to find his way back to the dojo. They must’ve cut down some trees or something, he scoffs to himself. 

The third time he gets lost, he’s pretty certain that someone must be playing a prank on him and moved the garden shed from its usual spot. There’s no other reasonable explanation -short of the shed growing legs- seeing as he’s such a natural at getting around. 

From then on, Zoro learns to accept that he lives in a world where people mysteriously move landmarks, buildings and roads around all the time. He tries not to take it too personally, being the target of all these pranks, but he does resent the time he wastes when getting around, as its precious time he could’ve been using to be training. Training to finally beat Kuina. 

It takes him weeks to realise that maybe the string on his hand isn’t pointing in the same direction anymore. 

Once he does notice, he notes that it periodically moves around- sometimes a bit, sometimes a lot, always right when he starts getting used to it damnit and no his sense of direction is just fine thank you. After the first couple of students at the dojo get their asses handed to them for teasing him about it, adults and children alike learn not to poke fun at the glaring, directionally challenged green-haired boy, no matter how often nor absurdly he gets turn around.  

The only person that Zoro reveals his little secret to is Kuina.  

He’s eleven, still a head or two shorter than her, and they’re taking a little break from sparring, sharing some homemade onigiri her mom made her. They’re sat in a tree’s shade, a pleasant breeze cooling their overheated skin, and she asks him about his infamously atrocious spatial navigation. He denies it at first, ears heating up in embarrassment, but after a couple more bites he decides if anyone were to know, it would have to be her. His friend. His only best friend. 

The young Zoro reveals that he’s not really sure why he gets lost in the first place- he's always relied on the thread- not landmarks or maps, as he’s now learned others do- to tell up from down, but one day it just moved. His north star moved, and has kept on moving these past three years, and he still doesn’t know why, just that it’s a real bother. 

“Your... thread?” 

“Yeah.” he eagerly stuffs his mouth with more onigiri. 

Her eyebrow raises quizzically. “I don’t know what you mean by that.” 

Zoro gestures to his pinky with a tilt of his chin and a wiggle of his finger. “You know. My red string. On my pinky.” 

“Zoro, I really don’t. I don’t see anything...” She furrows her brow, thoughtful. “But mom did give me ‘the talk’ last week- maybe this has to do with your soulmate!” Sensing a certain disinterest from her junior, she goes on. “Based on the examples I’ve heard about; I’d say it’s likely that the piece of string on your finger leads to your other half.” 

Zoro shrugs lazily. “Sounds like a drag, couldn’t this just be like, my inner compass or somethin’?” 

Her eyes crinkle at that, a grin splitting her face from ear-to-ear. “What inner compass, moron? You always get lost. And aren’t you the least bit interested in the person on the other end?” She pokes him in the chest. 

“Not really, no.” Zoro tries to brush off the taunt, lips pursed and palming his neck in a nervous tick. 

“Ok, think about it this way,” Kuina calls for his attention, “Somewhere out there, on this wide, wide sea- or a faraway island, I guess, there’s someone meant for you. Your person. Your equal. Isn’t that the least bit exciting?” 

The young boy’s scowl shifts into something softer, a pout. “I... guess?” He sighs. “I honestly don’t know- all I care about is becoming the best. Right now, Kuina, you’re my goal, you’re who I’m looking to. I don’t really care about this stranger, or fate, or anything like that. I’m gonna make my own destiny.” 

Her shoulders shake as she laughs. “Why am I not surprised- Zoro, all you think about are swords and fighting. You’re hopeless. I kind of worry for whoever’s stuck with you-” 

“Hey!” his nostrils flare with indignation. “They’re lucky to have me as a soulmate! I’m gonna be so strong- the strongest- and,” he slows down, realising she’d tricked him into caring, just a tiny bit, “a-and they’ll be the happiest soulmate ever ‘cause I’ll protect them.” 

She hums in agreement, amused. “And you’ll cherish them, right?” 

“Y-yeah...whatever.” he stands up abruptly, eager to change the topic and get back to training. “But my priority is to be the greatest swordsman- and don’t you forget it! I’ll beat you tomorrow for sure!” 

- 

After Kuina’s death, thoughts of soulmates and red threads rarely ever cross his mind. 

At her funeral, he briefly wonders what’ll become of her soulmate, if she even had one, but it just brings bile to his throat. They’d never even met her- why did they even matter. They were the ones mourning her, the ones robbed of their beloved friend, daughter, rival- they were the ones left behind with a Kuina shaped hole in their chests. The bitter burn distracts from the heavy emptiness he can’t shake off, the cold wetness of grief seeping into his skin. He wholeheartedly leans into the fury, grateful for a target, a temporarily outlet for the howling tempest of emotions caused by the loss of his best friend. 

Zoro’s world zeroes in on becoming the best. Pushing himself to the limit. Sparring, training. Constant practice and meditation. After Kuina’s death, there’s no student at the dojo for him to look up to, no ever-progressing goalpost he can set as a target. If he stays, he’ll continue being a big fish in a little pond.  

Zoro leaves. 

He sails the East Blue, seeking stronger and stronger opponents, cashing in bounties to get by. The Demon of the East Blue, they start calling him. But he’s still the same boy who gets lost, the ghost of a red thread distracting his steps and getting him turned around as he travels from island to island. His odd navigating system is as familiar and mechanical as the way his muscles move when he uses his swords, so ingrained he rarely registers that he’s eyeing the thin, tightly corded rope in his peripheral vision. 

Arms tied back with a much thicker, tangible rope, body sore, throat parched and delirious from the burning sun, Zoro doesn’t have much to do in Shell Town’s military yard. For the first time in years, he lets himself contemplate the implications of what Kuina had explained to him- the implications of having a person out there meant for him. He wonders if they’ll ever meet- it seems unlikely if he died here. Which he won’t, of course. Because he’s going to be the world’s greatest swordsman, and not even death will keep him away from achieving his dream. Then- only then, will he maybe think of looking for whoever was stuck with him, he decides. It’ll be his decision. 

For now, he’ll just keep following whatever path he feels will lead him to greatness. 

And what an odd path he stumbles into. Zoro joins a pirate crew. He makes friends. They get into heaps of trouble, fighting the marines, a crazy clown, a creepy butler... Zoro is happy to test his mettle, to feel challenged once again, the rush of battle pulsing through his veins like the sweetest nectar, the comforting weight of his blades grasped in his hands and mouth. 

- 

It’s been a couple of days since they left Syrup village now, and from her spot on Merry’s bridge, Nami has been giving him weird looks. 

“Did you hit your head?” 

He huffs, miffed at being bothered during his nap. “No. Why’re you asking?” 

“You haven’t been getting lost as much lately.” she smirks when she adds, “And I’ve seen you get lost on a smaller ship than this, once.” 

His eyes roll. Fucking witch. “Dunno what you mean, my sense of direction is great.” 

“And Luffy’s a great swimmer.” 

They glare at each other for a moment. Sensing she won’t get any more info from the swordsman, Nami turns away first and sighing, returns her full attention to manning the ship’s helm. 

Truth is, the thread had barely moved since they left Usopp’s home island, always pointing in the direction the Merry was sailing- not that Zoro had noticed. This rare situation enabled him to get the hang of the ship’s layout relatively well, and he’d been enjoying how easy it’d become to move around, even though he chalked it up to personal atunement to the Straw hats’ already beloved ship. 

A few hours before they get to the Baratie, he thinks it’s a funny coincidence that the thread is pointing in the direction the Merry is going. 

#zoro gets lost #zosan soulmate au #zosan #zoro x sanji #one piece zosan #one piece fanfiction #zosan fanfiction #zosan fic idea #red string of fate #part one of three #let me know what you think! #might get impatient and post part two pretty soon haha

[flynnriderishot]

Ma’am imma need that screw up part 3 immediately 🤓

screw up pt.3 - n.d (last part)

chris wasn’t wrong when he told nate that the thrifting world was something serious.

as you walked but the store, hand in hand- or, hand in wrist (you didn’t want nate getting lost but didn’t want to push his boundaries), nate was thoroughly surprised to see the amount of people in there.

he could see two girls arguing over who grabbed a shirt first. it was mind blowing.

“for the sake of your sanity and since it’s your first time thrifting, we’ll go in the direction no one is, okay?”

he nodded slowly, tearing his eyes away from the chaos and towards you.

before you could start walking, nate moved his wrist from your hand to intertwine your fingers instead.

“is this okay?”

you felt your cheeks warm up before smiling, “this is okay.”

•••

turns out, nate enjoyed thrifting more than he thought he would.

he had already ended up with three shirts and a pair of pants that he thought were few of the best items of clothing he’s ever seen.

you smiled as he rambled over how blind people could be.

“why didn’t anyone get this before hand? i mean, i’m glad i got to it first but how blind are you to the point where you just skim over this?”

you chuckled, “maybe they just didn’t want it.”

“no chance.” he scoffed playfully, “this shits amazing.”

“so i take it you like thrifting?”

if it was possible, nate’s eyes softened more, “maybe. or maybe it’s who i’m thrifting with.”

•••

you pulled outside of the triplets apartment (where nathan was staying during his time in LA).

nate sighed, slowly mixing the frozen yogurt you guys stopped to get,

“i had fun.”

“i’m glad you did.” you smiled over at him, leaning your head against the headrest.

“did you have fun?”

he assumed you did as the back seat of your car was nearly filled with bags of clothes. though he just wanted to reassure himself.

“i had a lot of fun. my favorite part was you ranting about a t-shirt.”

his cheeks redden in a bit of embarrassment, “sorry, i got excited. i didn’t mean to screw this up.”

“no, i thought it was cute.”

his eyes widen a bit as he nervously cleared his throat. he wiped his hands on his pant leg, adjusting his seating,

“you think i’m cute?”

“i think you’re adorable.”

“oh god.” he spoke under his breath. he was almost certain you could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“am i making you nervous, nathan?”

his eyes darted quickly between yours before he nodded, “yes.”

you simply smiled, “good.”

you noticed chris looking out the window so you leaned over to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, “you’d better get inside, i think chris is waiting for you.”

he didn’t respond. he couldn’t respond. if he did, he thought he’d just stutter out a bunch of nonsense.

but from the look in your eye and the smile on your face, nate was a hundred percent sure he didn’t screw up.

a/n: the ending is so corny 😭

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nathan doe fluff #nathan doe x reader #nate doe #nathan doe

[myheroblogs]

Yoichi and All For One are IDENTICAL TWINS (and what it means...)

Okay, I know this acc has kinda been dead for over a year or two by now and I haven't exactly caught up with MHA, I only started reading the last 3-4 chapters, and I wasn't planning to revive this acc after being inactive for so long, but I discovered something that I CAN'T keep quiet about.

In the newest chapter, further detail on Yoichi and AFO's backstory is revealed (Yes! The chapter I've been waiting for!), and surprisingly, AFO and Yoichi are TWINS! I think very few people really thought of the concept, so it was unexpected in general.

I assumed they're fraternal twins, because while they're twins, the anime showed them having different eye colors... (Yoichi has green eyes and AFO has red eyes)

...Until I realised that isn't actually possible.

Because TTTS (twin to twin transfusion), can only occur in IDENTICAL TWINS.

In other words, yes, Yoichi and AFO aren't just twins, they're IDENTICAL TWINS. Anime may be wrong about eye colors again (like how they were for Iida's).

And while it's both unexpected and funny to think about all this (I mean, c'mon, that means Yoichi could've had the exact same face as his brother-), a lot of people may have missed the very BIG implication that this has.

Remember, identical twins share the exact same genetic makeup. After all, they are basically what should've been one person but got split into two somewhere in the early process.

But aren't y'all forgetting...

...that QUIRKS are also genetic?

If AFO and Yoichi are identical twins the entire time, with the EXACT SAME GENETICS, then that would mean that the quirks they have, would be identical as well. Because quirks are also genetic.

All For One and One For All are the SAME QUIRK by nature.

You may be wondering, "if they're the same quirk, why do they seem to function differently?" Yes, OFA can pass itself on, AFO can't, etc.

Well, while they are identical twins, they did suffer through TTTS, with Yoichi as the donor twin.

This probably messed a lot with Yoichi's development, and thus, his quirk. After all, while identical twins, are well, identical, a lot of factors can change how their genetics are expressed (some are expressed more than others). TTTS would've been a big one for AFO and Yoichi.

Notice when looking at OFA's functions (minus the stockpile), it's a significantly weaker version of AFO? AFO can just take and give through close contact with another person. For the transfer to even work for Yoichi, he has to transfer through DNA (blood, or eating hair??), and the only way it can even store quirks if said person inherited the quirk and passed it on like hot potato. I wouldn't even be surprised if Yoichi's quirk could only story a certain number of quirks.

The functions of Yoichi's original quirk got so messed up, it had to evolve into being able to pass itself on for it to even function itself. So much so that literally no one realised he had a quirk, maybe even Yoichi himself until after his death.(Im in the camp that Yoichi died passing on the quirk and it was Kudou who discovered the transfer ability and made the plan to defeat AFO)

So yeah, Bakugo was correct about OFA being the same as AFO all along. Except he was wrong about it being due to AFO creating OFA. It's actually because the original quirk holders were identical twins, meaning the quirks they have would also be identical. But things happened, which caused the quirks to work differently from each other.

EDIT: As another addition to this post, this also explains why OFA and AFO are so intricately linked, that the two users can start seeing into the other's vestige realm. To the point that when they both come into contact, it merges their vestige plains into one. Or perhaps, it's actually two quirks temporarily merging into one.

Since identical twins are basically one split into two, then two identical quirks having contact with each other is the same as two merging back into one again.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yoichi shigaraki #shigaraki yoichi #all for one #one for all #afo #ofa #mha 407 #bnha 407 #bnha manga #mha manga #can't believe no one actually realised this #even I missed it till now

[hungerofhadarr]

After screenshotting my original 1:27 am rant just for safekeeping and returning to this line of thought, I think I would like to swing this bat at a hornets nest . And I shall call it ;

BG3 And Polyamory, AKA The Discourse From The Eyes Of The Polyamorous

Hi, I am now disclosing the polyamorous part of my queer identity to the internet. Yay! Remember, I am only one polyamorous person on this website and I am not the spokesperson. This is just my own opinion and my own feelings with how both the game and the fandom seem to be handling the inclusion of polyamorous relationships and characters.

And in my humble opinion: Yikes !

This should be no surprise, but the polyamorous rep in bg3 isn’t … really good . It’s there, sure, and maybe I’m the fool for expecting it to be good when it really is the first time I have ever really heard of a game having an actual polyamorous option. Like on purpose. But with how much bg3 was hyped up as being super inclusive and completely different from all other games in the genre, I had hoped that it would take a good approach to polyamorous people and relationships.

Suffice to say, it fell flat once I actually looked into it.

The companions listed as open for an open/poly relationship are Astarion, Shadowheart, Minthara, and Halsin . What’s wrong with that?

3/4 of these characters already feel like they lean into the conservative fear of polyamory . Three of them are the ‘ evil ‘ members of your party . While ( besides Halsin, but we’ll get to that ) the rest of the ‘ good ‘ character are all monogamous. Growing up in a conservative home, in a conservative province, discussions of the idea of polyamory always came back to the same argument. That only the strange and amoral would do it. Only people who can’t be trusted and don’t actually care about you want to be in a polygamous relationship. And sadly, that is what I see echoed in the choices of who is and isn’t polyamorous.

I romanced Wyll in my first playthru. I had always planned to romance Wyll, actually, since I first saw his design when I first learned of bg3 during its early access days. When I met Halsin next, and chose the options to flirt with him, I thought that a polyamorous relationship between my Tav, Wyll, and Halsin would be cute. I had hoped it would work. I had already seen plenty of Astarion and Halsin and Tav art and gifsets and every other piece of fan content floating around . I had hoped that maybe that bit I read about who is and isn’t open for polyamory was outdated, and I could have this relationship play out in my little playthru .

Of course, it came down to having to choose. And I shrugged it off, at first. Sure, Larian didn’t make Wyll polyamorous for whatever reason. It is the first game that has polyamorous options, and I can just continue the game but have that polyamorous relationship in my head as my canon for my character. That’s fine, that’s what I’ve done before. It can’t be different now, right?

But then, I looked online, opened Tumblr, wondering what other people would say. Not thinking that it would be a big debate about if it is or is not okay to pair certain characters in an ot3 or not.

Wyll can’t be polyamorous, because knightly tales of courting and the mere act of courting is strictly monogamous. Pairing him in an polyamorous relationship is fundamentally misunderstanding the character and you’ve missed the point of him if you do that. It’s wrong to want that, wrong to think about it. The game has polyamorous options, be happy with what you have.

And so, I felt guilty. Larian already set up this dichotomy between their good leaning characters having the normal and good monogamous relationship and the evil leaning characters having the strange and perverse polyamorous relationship. But then, to see that the mere act of pairing your own character with two characters because you think it’s cute, is now being looked down upon so heavily and being seen as a “ fundamental misunderstanding of the characters “. And to have those ideas an opinions suddenly become the most agreed and accepted stance on the topic? How was I supposed to feel anything other than shame. Like I had been enjoying the game wrong, in a backward way.

If Wyll was polyamorous, you do know his approach to love wouldn’t change, right? Same with Gale. Same with Karlach. Same with Lae’zel. None of them would suddenly have to have completely different approaches to love and how they want to show it and how they want to go about it. Wyll can still be replicating the courting, the dancing, the slow burn that he always heard about in bards tales and he could still be polyamorous. There’s this idea that polyamorous love is only able to be expressed in very specific, very narrow ways. That miss the point of what love is.

People don’t act like this with the polyamorous companions, I’ve noticed. You aren’t suddenly bad and misunderstanding the story of Astarion or Shadowheart or Minthara or Halsin for having a strict two person relationship with them, and not expanding into the idea of those characters taking on another partner at some point. If you have Astarion in a strict monogamous relationship, no one says anything. But saying that you have a Tav who’s dating both Karlach and Gale? People are going to talk about you. They’re going to make vague posts. They’re going to talk about how it is Impossible for those characters to Ever be comfortable in a polyamorous relationship and how it is Wrong to protray them as happy in one.

I didn’t think people forgot that the stereotype of monogamy = good and polyamory = bad is still alive and well, but it seems that when it comes to the funny dungeons and dragons video game, it’s okay to prop that stereotype up and get mad when that is possibly challenged.

Now, what about Halsin? He’s a strictly good companion. He cannot fall under the pervious argument, so is he an exception?

No. It’s worse.

Halsin being polyamorous stems in racism. Wood Elves are all described as being polyamorous, and that they do not understand jealousy. And that they do not ever settle with any of their partners. And that the relationships they have are seen as “ doomed to fail “ . This is a stereotype. Commonly associated with indigenous people. That we cannot hold a ‘ proper ‘ relationship and that we always sleep around . We didn’t fit the white model of what a (white) family and a (white) relationship should look like, so the stereotypes and misconceptions started. And, unsurprisingly, ended up as another bit of dnd racism and bioessentialism.

Halsin doesn’t uphold the pervious argument at all, but he shows another part of the discussion that I don’ t think anyone really thought of. The racism stereotypes didn’t vanish when Larian made BG3, they’re all still there. You still have good races and evil races. You still have all the dnd bioessentialism that everyone was so keen to say was gone or just pretended it wasn’t there anymore.

And Halsin is an example of those stereotypes that people are still feeding. So much content with him in it narrows him down to ‘ Big Elf that Fucks and is Horny ‘ or ‘ Big Elf that can be Sexualized no matter What he Does ‘ and it is because Larian didn’t remove the stereotypes in the first place , and fandom doesn’t care enough to take a step back for a second to realize they’re playing into them.

Am I saying you shouldn’t have an ingame polycule with the characters available? No. If it’s cute, and you like it , and it makes sense with the story you’re making for your character, and literally just because you can, go for it! But for the love of god, can we be a bit more careful with how we treat the concept of polyamorous relationships and how we talk about them? Polyamory isn’t just a fandom thing with your ot3s, it’s a real life thing. And we can see how you treat people just having fun with their characters. You understand that, once you get that torn up over the act of making three characters hold hands, it becomes a little bit hard to forget that that is the attitude you hold towards the concept of polyamory when it doesn’t fit the molds you’ve subscribed to.

#bg3 #bg3 critical #👍 I decided it was for the better that I rewrite this whole thing #because I was mean in the original draft #if I see any shipping discourse on this post it is over for me #long post

[adarkrainbow]

Why was Hansel the meal of the witch?

This is a question I was aked recently, and I thought it would make a good subject for a post. "Why did the witch only try to fatten up and eat Hansel? Why didn't she imprison and fattened up Gretel too? Why did she choose to make Gretel her slave instead of Hansel?"

Which is actually a fascinating question. Now, I do not promise that there is some grand truth or secret meaning behind this. It is just a little detail and some technical workings of fairytales. But it is a point that many authors and rewriters have taken an interest upon, and that if a true well of reinterpretations.

So let's go... Why was Hansel the meal, and Gretel the slave?

If we go by the "canon" of the text (of course "canonical" fairytales do not exist, this is just an expression) - if we go by the Brothers Grimm's text, we... well we do not know. It is not specified anywhere why the witch decides to lock up and fatten up Hansel out of the siblings, and to not do the same thing for Gretel. There is no reason explicitely spelled out or given. Maybe she simply prefers the meat of boys over the one of girls? This absence of justification, and the apparent "randomness" of the choice opens a door for authors who would like to change things: for example in "A Tale Dark and Grimm" (the book, not the Netflix series), it is both Hansel and Gretel that are fattened up by the witch, and she only picks Hansel as the first one to be roasted. The Looney Tunes Hansel and Gretel also were both in the cooking pot of the witch Hazel...

The text only leaves implications for the reader. For example, the need for the witch to have a slave/assistant to help her with the chores is implied by the facts that she is 1) elderly 2) has a very bad sight and 3) walks with crutches (a very important point). So it is understandable she would require a slave to help her - but then why pick Gretel, and not Hansel? Again, the text does not answer. Many people like to portray Hansel as the oldest child of the duo, and Gretel as a younger sister - this is because Hansel seems to be the strongest, bravest and most intelligent one, as well as with how his name always comes first in the text, Gretel being after him. Maybe the witch chose to eat him first because he was precisely older, and thus there was a more developed body to eat? Even if the siblings are of the same age, we can always imagine the very old and present male/female dichotomy that claims that men's body are naturaly stronger, larger and meatier than women's, who have graceful, slender, lighter bodies. Maybe such a concept is at work, putting forward a mindset where a cannibal witch will always go for boys first as a main course, and girls next as an appetizer...

One possible reading of the story is that the witch only had enough place to lock up ONE child and thus had to make a choice. Maybe there wasn't enough room for two kids in her prison for future meals? This interpretation is supported by the ORIGINAL text of the Grimm's fairytale. In the first edition of the brothers Grimm's fairytales (provided by Jack Zipes), there is an explicit mention of the place Hansel is locked in: it isn't some sort of stable or cage as it would later be described, oh no! It is a chicken coop so small Hansel can BARELY MOVE. It is a really tiny prison, in which he barely fits. Of course, on a practical side, it can help with the whole fattening process since having a child eat rich meals without ever moving is certain to make him plump in no time (just look at these horrible industrial farms and how they lock up animals in tiny cages) ; but this detail actually explained why the witch only placed her efforts on one child, and not two: she obviously had only enough to place to lock up one kid, and had to deal with the other in a different way.

But even if we admit all those implications - that the elderly, handicaped witch needed a help, that she had only enough room to lock up one child, that maybe Hansel as an older boy makes a better meal than Gretel - there are still some strange and bizarre logical holes. For example, the witch beats up and starves and exhausts Gretel. This is the complete opposite of what she does to Hansel, who is pampered and fattened up - does this imply the witch maybe does NOT want to eat Gretel? Or does she really have only enough resources to fatten up one child, and can only afford making Gretel more edible once she is done with Hansel?

Again, mysteries upon mysteries. Fairytales are not created to work on practical details or actual psychological processes - they are stories relying on powerful visuals and ancient motifs and a dream-logic-structure. When we are told that the witch locks up Hansel to fatten him up and eat him, and that Gretel is becoming an abused slave, we just accept it, because it works on a set of powerful visuals, such as the malnurished slave sister cooking and feeding her imprisoned and soon-to-be-killed brother. The idea of the sister being reduced to a tool in the process of killing her own brother is a very powerful one, never explicitly stated, but still present and sometimes used by adaptations. There was this German Hansel and Gretel movie released in 2005 that explicitly played on this: the children were never told by the witch her intentions when she locked up Hansel, and for the first week or so of Gretel being a slave and Hansel fattened up, they were left in the dark concerning the real intentions of their mysterious jailers. This was a stark contrast with many Americanized adaptations that have the witch gloating and explaining her cannibalistic desires to her victims, and which opened the door for some interesting plot points - in this movie's case, Gretel being quite jealous and envious of Hansel's new life of feasting and being kindly treated by the witch when she got all the insults and chores. Of course, when they discover the truth, their mutual feelings reverse as Hansel realizes his seemingly "easier" fate is actually the worst of the two.

Still, the text is left ambiguous and open-ended enough for us to imagine TONS of things. There could be a rewrite of the tale where the witch exclusively eats little boys, and hates little girls. One nterpretation of dark poetry of the tale can be found in Znescope's Gretel mini-series. Despite this mini-series having BIG flaws (the choice of the witch's true identity was... quite bad to be honest), it does have a very interestng and morbid answer to the "Why was Hansel the only one fattened up?" question. It chooses to depict this difference of treatment as a sick and cruel game the witch plays with her preys: Hansel and Gretel are both her prisoners, but she fattens up Hansel while she starves Gretel, to make a contrast between the two, simply out of a perverse amusement. There is one particularly striking image of the two children locked in two cages arranged like a weighing scale, with Hansel's cage going lower as he grows fatter and Gretel's going up as she becomes skeletal... It is a nice visual contrast that has been reused by various artists.

Now, I spoke mainly here of the content of the story and of the text itself. However, as I stated before, we must look beyond the story itself to understand why Hansel was to be the meal, and not Gretel. Or rather we need to look at the fairy tale's structure, on a meta-level.

As I said before, the fairy tale works here on a system of duality. Hansel and Gretel are meant to be a yin and a yang, complementary reflections. The boy and the girl, the brave and the coward, the cunning older brother and the crying little sister. The idea that their fates are "split" into the house of the witch not only furthers the anguish of the characters, who at this point were always together but now find themselves separated, unable to face together the same trials, but also keeps on playing on these visuals and motifs. As I said, there is something that many artists read in the tale, in the opposition between a malnourished Gretel and a feasting Hansel. This is part of the same duality of food and famine present all throughout the tale, such as the woodcutter's famished and poor household, opposed to the witch's house made of sweets and with chests full of pearls. The siblings represent two forms of abuse and evilness enacted by the witch, but in complementary forms: with Gretel the witch becomes a domestic abuser and an enslaver, with Hansel she becomes a jailer and an ogress.

One can also read in this an extension of the typical sexist duality between men and women in these old centuries: the fates the witch forces upon the two children can be caricatures of what each gender is supposed to "do" in such a society. Gretel, like women, is expected to do household chores and to cook for her "man" - here it is caricatured into her becoming a slave, and only helping fattening up her brother like some cattle. In return, Hansel, like a man, is supposed to be well-treated and well-fed, but here the caring wife/mother figure is a monstrous hag who only makes him feast so she could eat him later. In fact, it is quite interesting to see how both siblings are dehumanized and reduced to the status of animals - from Hansel being fattened up in the stables like some pig or chicken, to Gretel being fed leftovers like a dog.

All of that being said, there is another much needed argument that must be made: the answer fo thte question can be easily found in the story's structure. This is the most obvious solving of the problem when you consider it all: the story of Hansel and Gretel relies on the idea that the two children must save each other in turn. There is a balance in the tale, which bears the name of the two protagonists as heroes, but one before the other. During the first part of the tale, it is Hansel who takes the lead and the decisions. He is the cunning hero who tricks his parents, saves his sister from the woods, returns home thanks to his plan. Gretel is only seen being scared, and crying, and not doing anything except follow her brother around. In the second part of the tale, within the witch's house, it is Gretel who becomes the hero. Her brother is "out of the race", locked up away and unable to do anything, and it is Gretel who this time has to trick the deadly parental figure, come up with a clever ruse, and ultimately save her brother from death. This creates a perfect balance between the two characters: Hansel starts out as the hero protecting his useless sister, and then it is Gretel who vanquishes her uselessness to become the hero saving her own, impotent brother. The siblings need each other to survive, and thus save each other in turn. This is how the story works. And this is why Hansel must be the locked-up, fattened-up victim, so that his sister can save him. Else it would have been the story of "Hansel", and not "Hansel and Gretel".

All of that being said, a last point must be made about a final theory. A theory and reading of the tale that has been very prevalent and prominent in recent adaptations of the story.

The recent "Gretel and Hansel" horror movie did it. Before the (X horror movie) also did it. Neil Gaiman's Hansel and Gretel also used this idea. The comics Fables toyed with it in a side-way. And this idea is simple: the witch did not want to eat Gretel, but rather wanted to make her a witch like herself. Gretel wasn't the witch's slave, but unwilling apprentice.

This idea is born of course from a reconsideration of what a "witch" is, and the gender questions attached with the figure of the witch. In the original story, the witch is not a witch in the modern sense of the term, in fact she is a monster that is very clearly an ogress by another name. There is no question of learning how to be a witch, or making deal with dark powers, or anything like that. But when you read the tale with the modern sense of "witch", as a symbol of dark and hostile feminity, as a woman of power, who works against the domination of men, or the tyranny of patriarchy - when you consider all the gender questions surrounding real-life witches and the witch hunts, you see the witch's actions under a different eye. Her not wanting to eat Gretel at first, and making her do her chores, and forcing her to live with her, might hint at the fact she still considers her more "human" or more valuable than her brother, who is nothing but food, a mere cattle. Several of the modern reinventions of the tale, such as those stated above, decide to add the twist that the witch actually wants to shape or make the little girl into her image: from a slave doing the witch's chores, she becomes the witch apprentice, who is by her side in everything she does. Some of those readngs remove the elements of abuse towards Gretel, while others do not forget them. Neil Gaiman's take on the story is especially fascinating as the witch is explicitely described as oscillating between periods of sweetness and kidndness, promising Gretel all of her secrets and great powers, and periods of pure hatred and violence where she just insults and beats up the girl - all of it highlighting either the witch's madness, or a form of senility due to her old age.

But this theme of "Gretel as a future witch" or "Gretel as the witch's apprentice" ties in with another subtext well-hidden in the original text, but that many like to weave upon: Gretel as the "daughter" of the witch. In many of those rewrites and reinterpretations, the witch doesn't just treat Gretel as an apprentice, but as an heir or a replacement daughter. This is no surprise since it is very clear that in the original tale, the witch is the dark side of the mother figure, and an evil doppelganger of the wicked stepmother/mother of the siblings. As such, it makes sense for her to impose an abusive and unconsented motherhood upon Gretel - doesn't her forcing the girl to do all the chores not reminiscent of how famous fairytales stepmothers treat heroines like Cinderella? Such a perverse motherhood was already explicit and obvious in her treatment of Hansel: like a mother she nourishes and feeds Hansel (in fact she succeeds where the wicked stepmother failed), but this is all to devour him, in a ritual of "un-birth", she becomes a death-givers who doesn't expel a child out of her womb, but has it return to her stomach. [This is a very common and usual motif among ogres of fairytales, who are all caricatures of parenthood].

More generally, to have the witch act in such a way actually makes the fairytale more "feminist" somehow, but in a quite perverse way. Because in such a reading, we have a women-dominated world. The true active and powerful characters of the story are beings such as the wicked stepmother and the witch, who command, control and influence the other characters - especially the male ones. The father is a weak puppet who can't stand up to his wife, Hansel is reduced to a fat pig in a cage. Hansel did try to escape the tyranny of the wicked woman, but all he could do was push back his doom, and his plans ultimately failed. Gretel, as a woman herself, is given a special treatment - and in the "apprentice/daughter" interpretation, is "absorbed" by this world of wicked, dominating women. But she actually breaks from it, and kills the one that would have "turned" her - and it is telling and interesting that the only one who can have a true an full success, a definitive victory in this tale is Gretel. Hansel's plans work and save them, but only for a brief time, and his last plan fails dramaticaly, before he gets locked up and "out of the story". Gretel meanwhile, when she gets the courage and intelligence to act, proves herself much more efficient and definitive than her brother, as she puts a true end to the threat other them by killing the witch (and by extension killing the wicked stepmother/mother). This is something Hansel couldn't do - all he could was trck the wicked woman, and nullify her plans, but he could not remove the threat of the death and the hunger.

Anyway, as you can see, despite being a quite superficial and silly question, this fact (or rather absence of facts) opens up a whole jar of various interpretations, readings and themes, and proves the hidden complexity of these apparently "simple" stories.

#hansel and gretel #hansel #gretel #witch #fairytale analysis #the gingerbread house witch #grimm fairytales #german fairytales #hansel and gretel adaptations

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 29

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: I'm sorry this whole week has been Andrew

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

"Wish I didn't have to go back to work," Andy tucks his shirt in as he enters the kitchen, "mmm, something smells good."

"Oh, I found the waffle maker," you say proudly. Admittedly, you've made a mess. Your tablet displays the recipe as a bowl sits next to it dripping batter. "I thought it would be a nice start to the day."

"How long have you been awake?" His expression falls, "dove, you've been... very busy lately. I'm worried."

"Why?" You bat your lashes. Yes, you've been a bit all over, always trying to distract yourself. It helps you keep your mind off of the cramped nights and sleepless hours. "Dr. Kemp wants me to set goals."

"Yes, I know. And it's good advice but you can take a day off," he suggests.

"Maybe," you shrug and hide your disappointment. You thought he'd be happy. You're doing what he wants too. He wants you to give back and you're trying to take care of him the best way you know how. You've never tried this hard in your life but he doesn't seem to see that. 

"Here," you turn and take a plate of waffles, "I also cut up some fruit," you put it on the island near him and grab the bowl of strawberries and blueberries, "and syrup."

You bring the bottle of dark maple and a set of cutlery for him. He sits on one of the high chairs and accepts them with a thanks. Despite his admonishment, he looks delights. You step back on your heel and watch him. As he cuts into the fluffy stack, he pauses and looks at you.

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'll eat when you're gone," you assure him, "I'm not hungry yet."

He inhales and takes his first bite. He chews it slowly, his thought tensing in his jaw, "promise you will. Dove... I see you pushing your food around."

"I don't have a problem," you say defensively. He doesn't know how you used to be. How you would binge so much you nearly puked. So you miss a meal or two, it's better than the alternative. 

"I think it's something you should discuss in therapy? Just to be certain," he offers.

"It's not," you insist. "I'm fine--"

"Then sit down and eat with me. That's what couples do. They eat together," he points his fork at you, "and don't forget a kiss before I go."

You watch him for a moment. You don't tell Steve about these arguments, you only tell him what you learn. What you're doing to be better. You'll tell him you know now that you should eat with Andy and give him a kiss goodbye. That's something, you suppose.

"I'm sorry, Andy," you murmur and put a waffle on a plate for yourself.

"Don't be sorry, just do better, honey," he says.

"Alright," you turn back to him as you grab a fork and knife. You go around the island to sit next to him. You poke at the waffle and cut off a small piece.

"And... you can call me honey, too. Would you?"

You nod, "okay..." you hover the fork in front of your mouth as your stomach mulches, "honey."

🕊️

You spend much of the day painting. Your attempts at napping were met with tossing and turning as your mind kept wandering to the nights ahead and those behind you. Andy's touches aren't as unusual as before, you can lay still, close your eyes, let him kiss you. But he doesn't like it when you stop him from doing more.

Your back aches as you hunch forward on the stool. You know it's a bad position but you don't care. You lean in, nose almost touching the canvas as you focus on a feather. 

You yawn and swipe the brush against your palette. You sway slightly, eyes nearly rolling back. You should try to nap before–

"How's it going, Dove?" Andy startles you as his shadow fills the door.

You turn, shivering in the airy garage as you lower the brush. You blink at him, for a moment thinking he might be a walking dream. You shake your head, no he's real and times slipped past you again.

You set down your palette and hug yourself. It's as if the day was a fog and it's only just clearing. You give a sheepish smile as Andy stays at the top of the steps.

"Tired?" He says, "oh, wow, you got a lot done."

"Yeah, uh… a lot," you agree hoarsely.

"Come on, you're asleep on your feet, sit down. I was thinking of ordering some pizza. I've been craving it," he beckons to you. You're glad he's in a good mood.

"Alright, I'll just clean up," you turn and rinse off your brush, "see ya inside."

"I can do that–"

"No, no, I'm… a bit particular about my brushes," you mutter, "I'll be in soon…honey."

"Alright, don't make me come find you," he kids as he backs up.

You're thankful he's appeased. You're too exhausted for him to be smothering you again. You just want to zone out.

You clean your brushes and palette off and place them away neatly. You rub your hands together as you climb the two steps inside and close the door behind you. As you pass the kitchen, Andy calls after you.

"Hey," you enter as he twists a knob on the stove.

"Making you some tea," he says, "you look cold. Why didn't you turn on the heater?"

"Didn't think of it," you drag your feet, legs heavy, "tea sounds nice."

"Some of that stuff Steve brought," he sniffs and gives a shrug, "you really seemed to like it."

"Sounds good," you lean on the counter and cup your chin.

"You can have it while we decide on toppings," he smiles, "you like pineapple on your pizza?"

"I'm not picky," you answer.

"I'm asking what you like, sweetie."

"Just cheese," you reply, "sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he comes around the island and cradles your head along the side, bending to kiss your crown, "go, relax, I'll bring the tea out to you."

"Thank you," you sidle away slowly.

You go into the living room and nestle into the corner of the couch, hugging your legs as you try to warm up. You watch the window, the grey sky dimming with the onset of the autumnal evening. You lean your head back and groan.

When Andy comes in, he plunks your cup down and sits heavily next to you. You look at him as he grabs the remote.

"Why don't you put something on?" He holds it out to you.

"Um, is there a game tonight?" You wonder.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, alright," you take the remote and flip on the tv.

"Whatever you want," he leans back, one arm across the couch above you as he keeps his phone in his other.

You browse the television shows, thinking of trying something new. Your eyes drift thoughtlessly as he thumbs at the screen. He hums, "just cheese?"

"Yeah, that's good."

"Alright, I want you to finish two slices at least," he says.

You frown but don't argue. You don't appreciate his concern for your eating habits. Pizza is a lot and greasy. You reach for your tea and continue to search through titles.

You hear a bing and glance over again, certain not to move your head. You see the notification just before Andy swipes it away from the top of the screen. 'Cloud recordings full.'

You don't think anything of it. You don't know what that means. You click on a show you always saw Amber watching.

"Good choice," he says as he puts his phone down, "all ordered. With garlic knots too."

"Mm, sounds good," you blow on the tea, the smell of maple comforting, "thank you… er, honey."

"Of course," he kisses your head again as he drops his arm onto your shoulders, "the tea will help tide you over until it gets here."

🕊️

The pizza comes as the drowsiness tugs at your eyes. You feel sluggish as Andy brings you a plate with two slices. You chew as you stare at the bleary television, the audio garbling as you struggle to down each bite.

You finish with a painfully full stomach. Andy clears your plate with his and says something you don't catch. You feel so out of it. You've never felt like this before.

Andy comes back with two bottles of beer uncapped. You squint at him, sure you're seeing double. It must be the lack of sleep.

"Here," he holds one out as he sits next to you.

"Oh, I don't…" you eke out.

"One won't hurt, sweetie," he winks, "it's already open."

You rub your eyes before reaching out to take one. It's cold and the glass condensates beneath your palm. You sniff the open neck and make a face. It smells awful.

"Taste better than it looks," he clinks his bottle against yours.

You open your eyes wide, fighting the weight around them. You lean the bottle against your lips and make yourself take a drink. As much as you want to spit it out, you choke down the wheaty acidic liquid.

"You get used to it," he chuckles and takes a hearty swig.

"Mmm," you grumble, "I am very tired…"

"You go to bed early every night," he rests his hand on your knee, "worked all day just looking forward to being with you, honey."

You frown and nod, taking another repulsive gulp. It's nasty but you don't want to waste it. And you don't want him to be upset. Again.

"Finish your beer and you can go lay down," he says, "okay, sweetie."

"Alright," you look at the bottle, a tall task as each taste is worse than the last. "Thank you."

He keeps his hand on your leg. You notice how it slips higher along your thigh as you sip. You feel your body slackening and the sludgy fatigue turns to a bubbly blare. 

You focus on the bottle, just wanting to go to bed. You empty it down to a small cluster of foam and sit forward to put it on the table. You miss and the bottle clanks on the floor. Andy chuckles and reaches to pick it up, setting it down with his own.

“Oh, honey,” he turns to you, “are you tipsy already?”

“Andy,” you breathe, “I don’t feel good.”

“You drank that too fast,” he laughs again, pushing his arm behind you, “here, I got you, baby.”

You close your eyes as he swoops his other arm under your knees and the whole world shifts as he lifts you. Your head lolls against his shoulder as he holds you against his chest. His scent seeps into your nostrils as the motions of his gait lulls you.

He climbs the stairs carefully as you lean into him. Your head swirls strangely. You’ve never felt like this. Your eyeballs feel funny and your stomach is airy. 

You open your eyes again as he enters the bedroom. He tuts, amused by your state as he lays you on his bed. He hushes you as you babble dumbly.

“I’ll get you some pajamas, just relax,” he coos, dragging his hand down your side and kneading your thigh.

He leaves you as you obey him. Not out of your will, but because you have no choice. You can’t fight this eerie heaviness. The sludge of time and space that smothers you.

He returns, a blurry smear of colours as he moves around the room. He tosses something light beside you and bends over you. He runs his hands from your hips and around your back as he sits you up. You bobble as you struggle to hold your head up.

“Here,” he tugs on your shirt, bringing it up your torso.

Instinctively you catch it and try to keep him from revealing anymore. He clucks and yanks until you nearly fall back. You drop your hands to keep yourself up.

“Honey, I’m helping, don’t be bad,” he warns as he continues to raise the fabric, “arms up. I got you a fresh set of pajamas.”

Your lashes droop down and cling to each other. You shakily raise your arms and he pulls your shirt off. He gulps loudly and his fingers flutter along your shoulders and down to your chest. He cups your tits and purrs.

“Sweetie, I… never got to say before but you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

You shoo his touch away and cross your arms. He sighs heavily and grips your hips. He pulls you down harshly so you land flat on your back. You squeak in surprise as you bounces against the bed.

He pops open the button of your jeans and curls his fingers beneath the denim. He rolls them down roughly, jolting you as he gets them past your feet. You shiver as you lay in only your underwear and bra, hugging yourself.

“Mmmm,” he sits beside you again, leaning over you as he plants his hand by your other side, “honey,” he runs his other hand down your arm and takes yours, moving it into his lap, “do you feel what you do to me?”

He presses your hand to the bulge in his pants. Your head turns side to side as your voice sticks in your throat. The flavour of the beer stains your tongue and chokes you. He bends closer and kisses you on the lips.

“I need you so bad,” he whispers as he pulls away, “but… I want you to feel it.”

He moves your hand off of him and shifts, dragging his other hand away from the bed and down the curves of your side. He trails kisses down your jaw and neck, further and further, lingering around your chest as he guides the straps of your bra down your arms. 

He looses your tits and tends to them one at a time. Nipping, kneading, and suckling until your nipples are sensitive and hard. His lets his hand wander further down as he dotes on your chest, slipping his fingers beneath he elastic of your panties.

He lifts his head and exhales a scalding breath over you, “can I taste you? I need to taste you…”

“What?” You murmur as your head slumps to one side and your eyes shut, fuzzy and itchy.

You feel the bed jostle as his weight lifts and his touch drifts away. He urges your legs apart before he settles between them, the bed moving with him. Your panties roll down your legs and he bends your knees. You whine, confused about what he’s doing.

He growls and you feel his breath along your thigh. You twitch as he spreads his hands across your flesh and holds your legs open. Something cool delves into the warmth between your legs. You yelp as your eyes snap open.

You lift your head as it teeters on your neck and you see the top of Andy’s head by your pelvis. He runs his hands around your thighs, gripping the outside and pushing them flush to his face as he laps at your cunt. You whimper as you fall flat again, hiding behind your eyelids as the vision of him paints the void of your speckly mind.

What is he doing?

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #library au #don't speak #series #defending jacob #fresh #steve kemp

[lucrezianoin]

Canon in videogames (ascended astarion rant adjacent)

So I noticed that a lot of the comments disagreeing with me seeing Ascended Astarion/Tav as a toxic relationship tends to focus on a particular way to see canon.

In media that is fixed (no viewer input more than reading/watching/interpreting) canon is pretty easy to define, and of course there will be interpretation above it (and headcanons too). And I thought canon was pretty easy to define in videogames, but clearly not? Or maybe it is and I am being fooled??

So I am writing this post so that every time someone comes at me with the same argument over and over again, I can just redirect them here.

So the argument seems to be this: "Ascended Astarion is not toxic because I never broke up with him, so my character and me did not see him acting toxic", or "Well, I did not play as Karlach, so Astarion did not react badly to my character at all" (the Karlach scene is this one). More on Ascended Astarion and my opinions on how he sees love and relationship here.

The thing is, I do not think this makes much sense for what we consider canon. The answer I usually get is "This is an rpg where you create your story". Yeah... within the confines of a set world.

I imagine videogame canon like this:

(SORRY for the shitty graph)

Everything on the bottom is given by the writers. That is the canon world. By the nature of the videogame that world can also change, but it is not as infinite as the player's imagination. The player is the one that in classic rpgs has infinite amounts of possible stories and backgrounds that can be expressed with a finite amount of choices.

These choices enact upon the world (ex. in Fable I can kill everyone in the village and the people will call the guards on me), on objects (ex. drinking from the Well in Dragon Age Inquisition) and on characters (ex. helping Vivienne's quest).

These are big choices, but there are also small ones of simple interactions. I imagine it like a bouncing ball. As the player I throw things at the world/objects/characters and they will respon in a certain way based on how they are written.

For example, I can ask Astarion: "Hey, what colors were your eyes before you turned into a vampire?" and he as a CHARACTER who is written by writers will reply in a certain way. In what way? Usually in a way that is directly correlated to his characterization. So, he is going to answer "I don't remember." This dialogue was chosen and written by people (real human beings) with the intent of telling a story.

Now, in rpgs like Baldur's Gate 3 (but I think it is more visible in rpgs like Pathfinder and Dragon Age), world and characters change with choices. So what you get bouncing back at you is not the same static character.

Ex. let's take Dragon Age, let's take Isabela from Dragon Age 2. As the player you will meet Isabela and she will be written as "character Isabela". All your interaction with her are: Player -> Dialogue; Isabela -> Answers with Isabela-specific dialogue. These dialogues characterize who Isabela is, her role in the story, her backstory etc.

Through the game, Isabela will take two possible paths thanks to the interactions with the player, so the Isabela-path1 will have specific answers that will be associated to her character development, same for Isabela-path2.

So the player can influence the direction of the character but the player does not substitute the character with their own headcanon... the writers wrote that path, that direction, and now the new Isabela's answers will help the player see the consequences of their choices.

For objects and less interactive npcs it is similar:

You have the world. There is a cat in the world. You meet the cat and the player knows the cat is there.

Now, the point is this:

What happens to the cat if the player does not explore that part of the world/city? Is the cat still part of the canon?

The answer (in my opinion) is yes. Because we know 100% that videogame are written as finite creations (at least rpg), save from patches. So we know 100% as a fact that in the story of the videogame Baldur's Gate, Myshka the cat is there even if the player does not find them or visit them. That is why using playthrough and guides if something we can do.

The same happens with characters.

If I ask Astarion "What is the worst thing that ever happened to you" in act 3, he will reply "Being buried alive".

If I don't ask Astarion the question... does this mean that we are playing a game where he could reply ANYTHING else? Does this mean that he was never buried alive just because as the player I did not explore those options?

Of course not.

Astarion is a fixed character (like Isabela) who can change path into another FIXED character.

So imagine Astarion like a bottle. He has all these things: lore, characterization, a path, how he reacts - these are all written IN HIM, because he is a fictional character created by writers and not by the player. As the player you can poke and throw him in a blender, and ask and insist, and you will get answers from him. Answers based on his characterization.

What happens if you do not ask the questions?

What happens is that the characterization is still there, but as the player you did not get to see it. For example, many players do not know that Astarion was buried alive by Cazador, but the fact is still canon and still part of his backstory.

When you choose to ascend him, you are influencing a path - but you cannot control the consequences. You push him in a direction but the direction, the characterization, is fixed and written by the creators of the game (and Astarion).

So it does not matter that the player will never choose the option to break up with Ascended Astarion after the ending - very rarely people choose those option, if not to try out of curiosity, as this is the very end of the game - it does not matter because what matters is what the answers tell us of his character. Which is that he now completly controls Tav and takes away their agency.

So someone can play the whole Ascended Astarion as the perfect romance, and imagine that their created character thinks of it as the perfect romance. But as the player, you are aware that you are choosing dialogues, you are aware of the fact that if you choose the wrong dialogue you will uncover more of Ascended Astarion's characterization.

"I would never break up with Astarion in my game so he is not toxic in there" makes no sense, because the point is that "The writers wrote Ascended Astarion as this kind of character, by not breaking up I am roleplaying NOT UNCOVERING this toxicity." The toxicity/abusiveness still exists, it is simply hidden for roleplay reason... but you, as the player, should know how videogames work.

#ascended astarion #astarion #sort of #meta #bg3 #bg3 spoilers

[gogolatte]

HIII!! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)/ I so love how you write Fyodor!!! Could I request Fyodor with a wise and optimistic s/o??? (it can be oneshot, headcannons, or drabbles :3)

To add on this, s/o is able to keep up with Fyodor's daily rants about philosophy or literature that includes deep meanings. S/o is sophisticated and quite esoteric with their world views, always drowning themselves in knowledge but never really being able to just fall into pessimism from the amount of awareness.

I just love imagining Fyodor bringing up how all sinners should be exterminated while s/o just completely turns his point around by giving some optimistic thought like, "All sinners are capable of redemption. Virtue reaches its limits once it approaches the complexity of man." (whatever that means) and then Fyodor's all baffled because why is his s/o like this??? And he doesnt even mean it negatively. Hes just shocked.

I feel that Fyodor would find it so refreshing to have an s/o like that. He may be a dedicated man who wouldn't change his plans just because his s/o talked him out of it, but he would still deeply respect his s/o and their views.

I APOLOGIZE IF THIS REQUEST WOULD BE TOO HARD(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠) please take care and thank youu!! ^_^

Fyodor with an optimistic s/o!

✧ pairing. Fyodor Dostoyevsky x gn!reader

✧ word count. 996

✧ contents. fedya in love

✧ author's note. HIHIII NONNIEEE!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this request is so interesting! and thank u for liking the way I write Fedya, I try my best <3

I really like this trope. Fyodor being merciless about people and the reader being the complete opposite by being optimistic.

honestly I had to search what esoteric means,,, and I'm still not sure if I understood it correctly (╥﹏╥)

I hope you like this and I'm sorry that this took so long :((

It's impossible to change Fyodor's view of the world, the society, or its people. As much as you try to convince him of the opposite —with solid proof— of his negative beliefs in certain topics, he refuses to accept them. Of course, he utterly respects your opinion; you're very smart and he knows you have knowledge about whatever topic in hand you two might be facing, as well as many others.

You think it's maybe because of the way he lived; the things one experiences are the main reason why someone acts or thinks the way they do, most of the time. So, that means that Fyodor probably had experience meeting lots of people who were “sinful” and “foolish” as he describes them in every single deep conversation that the two of you have.

Aside from the debates, Fyodor adores being able to discuss philosophical things with you— his lovely partner turning serious as he speaks, carefully listening to everything he has to say with those big eyes just makes him fall deeper in love. He's never going to directly tell you how much he enjoys it, you just have to get the hint.

Currently, Fyodor was sitting on his desk, his ushanka resting on the table among a few documents scattered on the surface— documents with government agents' faces on them and long paragraphs, a lot of words were underlined with fluorescent highlighter.

He was completely immersed in his work until he felt a pair of soft hands massaging his tensed shoulders; which was enough for him to lose focus.

“Fedya, do you not feel tired?” Your words make him sigh. Maybe he was overworking himself again, but that doesn't matter when all of this is in order to purge the world from sin.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle rub on his back that is eventually making him feel drowsy. Regardless of how dangerous of a man Fyodor is, the touch of his beloved reduces him into a soft lovesick puppy— though he tries to hide it.

A smile spreads across his face when you turn his head to the side, hooking a finger under his chin, and pressing a tender kiss on his cold lips that leaves him yearning for more when you pull away.

“Leaving so fast?” He asks when he sees that you're walking away. You might as well take responsibility for distracting him from his work. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have a small chit-chat with me?”

And since you have nothing else better to do, you decide to walk back to his desk, sitting across from him.

“You see, sweetheart, I have been reading these papers for the next meeting… All of these are government members who belong to the plague that must be eliminated from the world for the sake of it. They’re sinners.”

He leans back against his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Sinners tend to be selfish, only chasing their own tail in circles like a lost dog, doing anything for their own primal desires and then being hypocrites about it.”

A small laugh leaves his lips as he tilts his head to the side; Clearly, he knows this is the time when you're going to refute.

“People are not sinners forever...” You murmur while looking down at the papers, trying to give it a quick read, but Fyodor could perfectly hear your sweet voice in that slightly pouty tone.

Even as his partner you know you can’t change the way he thinks or stop him from reaching his vile goals, and as much as you don’t like seeing other people's lives slip away by Fyodor’s hands, you can’t do anything about it.

“Oh, love. I feel like if you were in my place, looking at all these faces and the stories behind them, you'd think otherwise.”

“No, Fedya.”

Fyodor's eyes widen at the way you said it, a stern tone that immediately gets his attention.

“Humans are fragile things, in body and mind.” You look at him straight into his eyes, not realizing how serious you sound by now, “And their mind can be corrupted by different situations they face during their short life…”

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow, carefully listening.

“That's how they turn “sinners”, by suffering through their life, but I think that they can be saved… not in the way you think, not by being exterminated… ending their lives is not the solution.”

“Then what do you think the solution is?”

Your eyes follow Fyodor as he stands up slowly, taking slow steps before standing behind you, “I'm all ears, dear.” The way he says it sounds menacing as he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Sinners are capable of redemption… There are a lot of ways one can be ‘saved’, some people might choose God, and others might choose their family or friends, but what matters is the capacity one has to be able to get out from the dark pit of suffering to stop being selfish and sinful.”

You don't dare to look at Fyodor, afraid of what he might think, afraid he thinks your optimistic way of thinking is just dumb.

But then you hear his soft laugh as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger, “You're so cute.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips, and before you can speak, his lips are over yours.

Truth be told, he does take you very seriously, but his heart flutters each time you show that smart side of yours. Fyodor feels proud of having you by his side.

As he pulls away, he pecks your cheek again, “You surprise me every time, dear.” He walks back to his seat, still smiling softly at you.

“I'd like to keep talking to you but at the same time, I need to work… So why don't you help me choose who deserves to be my first victim to be saved?”

© 2024 pinklacydovey

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor.zip #📑 — Requests ₊˚⊹⋆ #💫 — messages from the stars ₊˚⊹⋆ #💌 — Nonnies ₊˚⊹⋆

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Who are you for them?"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about how this person or group of people see you and what they think of you. works better for one person at time but you can try asking about group of people too (friends/family...). you can ask about partners (current or future), fs/destined person, friend/s, family members, people you interact (even barely) with (colleagues, classmates...). I honestly started with the idea of only making this pac the usual 4 piles leaning to a "more romantic" interest, but then I needed to add some other people as friends, so I also decided to add a couple of piles more. I won't probably divide piles into sections (as family, work, friends, school, love...) but just focus on the general energy I get. it will resonate differently for you (e.g. the same pile can work for one person's boss and for another person's bestie...). I am going more in detail in other readings (on instagram too).

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3 4 5 6 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

This is someone that may have not figured you out well yet (or you haven't figured out them yet). But you kinda hit them in a certain way. You maybe make them realize something or understand something... You give them a different point of view, you put a light on "a problem". This may be someone kinda stubborn on occasion but you give them the ability to open their eyes and be more balanced about what they are seeing and understanding from the world. It doesn't seem a bad person per se, maybe just not too emotionally open/aware when it comes to others and putting themselves into others' shoes. Ofc, not all of these people will be open immediately to the "lesson" you bring with yourself, so they may even not appreciate you at first. If they do, you may help them heal some personal issues and understand why they feel the way they feel. For a few of you, this person may even develop feelings for you. For others, it may be someone from your work/school or family environment (I am not getting friends tbh, maybe acquaintances).

song: come | jain

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

"You're a small flower to me". This is a line from a song about love and... passion/lust too. But it's very sweet. This person is someone who really likes you and has deep feelings for you. For most of you they're a partner/lover, for others someone sharing a more platonic bond with you (eg. family/friends). This person, aside from the feelings mentioned above, is someone that feels very protective of you. They value you a lot. You may have helped them change perspective on something too. Maybe how they see themselves. You give them strenght or make them stronger (they are stronger for you, because you exists). It's a very cute and loving, devoted energy. You inspire them and help them believe more in their dreams and that they can reach whatever result they want in life. With you by their side, in particular. Communication seems pretty important for you two, you can bond over it and share deep stuff too with no problem. Everyting is allowed. They see you as their new beginning in life, someone they can start everything all over again with (and even do things they thought they couldn't do anymore/at all).

[possible overlays with pile 3]

song: electric | alina baraz, khalid

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

You are some kind of a mystery or a puzzle to be solved. This person cannot figure you out too well but this doesn't scare them. Quite the opposite. They feel intrigued by you. They may be someone asking you questions and trying to get a look inside of you, to know you deep down, in your essence. They're not scared of seeing your darkest side, despite you may tend to hide it away. This person is someone quite aware of the fact that everyone has dark parts in them. You may feel a bit stressed at first with them (or you may make their stress to increase and then ease a bit by talking); anyway if necessary please communicate with them and tell them off/to chill. They are just plain curious about you, but may get swept away by it and get a bit too far (for a few of you: this person may like mental games a bit too much, so if it gets toxic or you don't like it, just close the thing asap, don't worry about being rude just be plain clear and stand your ground). May come off as a bit closed off/into their head from their part, so it may take you some time to get inside of them, but they will let their walls down if you ask them questions too. They need a bit of help. I'm hearing sapios3xual tbh. Really into minds (and as said, into their head "to process infos"). Could be a lover/partner (especially in the "knowing" phase), someone from your work/school environment or an acquaintance. An ex for a few (especially if resonates with the nosy-toxic part I feel).

[possible overlays with pile 2 or 4]

song: get your number | mariah carey

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 4

This may be a friend, more likely childhood/long time friend, or a family member (for a few a possible partner/lover, especially if you are part of the lgbtq+ community). They think you are the type of person they may be willing to go in an abandoned house on Halloween night, just to have fun together (okay dunno about your idea of fun, but any other example could do... this is just the first thought I had). A confident (you for them and they for you). They see you as someone cute, funny and adventurous (now I get why the abandoned house), someone trustworthy, reliable and important: they know you'd do anything for them. Probably you were by their side when they needed the most, when they needed support. They'd come to you if they needed help: you may be a bit more grounded (or a better planner) than them. You are from the same soul family very likely, this person feels as if you were put in their life for a reason and they are incredibly happy and grateful about it. They do feel a deep connection with you, a spiritual bond. They also find you beautiful. Lot of mirror energy tbh, you may feel the same way about them.

[possible overlays with pile 3]

song: before i ever met you | banks

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pile 5

This person sees a connection with you. They feel like you can understand them as nobody else. Or, at least, that you can somehow read their mind and help them express themselves better with others (this may be someone having a blockage about communication, maybe cause by language or their position too, but ofc it doesn't have to be... it may be just social anxiety or anything else, any other trauma). They know they can come to you when they need to talk or clear their mind. They know you can solve their problems even just by simply listening to them speaking. Someone well read, knowledgeable, and fair. Someone that helps them ease their inner struggles. Some kind of a guide to meet and understand themselves when they cannot do it alone. You kinda help them free themselves from their own cage too (for some: this may hit them not immediately but after a while as they may be someone kinda stubborn and fixed in their mentality. This doesn't mean they don't see your ability with words and knowledge). Could be a boss or a colleague/classmate, not sure about a partner or a friend (could be), maybe a family member. Or an acquaintance.

song: haegeum | agust d

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 6

You help this person be more grounded and determined. More precise and efficient in what they do. You inspire them to stop and focus on what they can do to do better, on what they can change, on what they can actually control. You calm them, and you give them hope too. You give them strenght. You help them be more positive and in touch with their giving side. They see you as a source of inspiration, someone that's very important in their life, a focal point, maybe even a weak point for some. Someone very empathetic, someone they can learn a lot from, even about themselves. Someone confident and elegant. You make them think a lot indeed and make them want to be better, both as a person and in their work. You help/inspire them "revise" themselves and change/work on themselves. They learn how to be more objective and more empathetic too thanks to you. More connected with their inner self. You give them courage to pursue their dreams and work even harder. Could be a friend, a colleague/classmate, an acquaintance or even a partner or a family member.

song: powerful | ellie goulding, major lazer, tarrus riley

#pac #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a photo #pac tarot #pac reading #psychic readings #clairs readings #divination #free tarot reading #tarots #tarot readings #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [4.5/...]

- OPLA! Buggy x F!Reader

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: In which Buggy discovers that he’s in over his head while making a deal with Arlong the Saw.

Warnings: LA! One Piece, Canon typical violence, slight canon divergence, Arlong is his own warning

A/N: Unfortunately, part 6 of "DMTMYHB" is a little delayed and won't be out until at least next week. However, I began working on this initially out of boredom, so at least you can read about Buggy's POV after the events of chapter 4 and before the events of chapter 5.

Life sure is a shitshow sometimes, Buggy thinks to himself while spitting out a few grains of sand. For fish people, there’s a certain irony with pulling over a bag propped with sand over his head.

Then again, it could’ve been considerably worse.

They could have decided to water board him, or maybe take a decent chunk off his nose. It’s not too outlandish to assume that these kinds of people prefer the taste of human flesh, and although he considers himself fairly experimental man on occasion, that one is not on his kink list.

He might be big-headed sometimes, he’s man enough to admit as much, but even Buggy knows better than to underestimate the fish people. He’s had his fair share of encounters with them before, and needless to say, mixing a Devil Fruit eater with people who primarily live and breathe in the sea is a bad combination.

A very, very bad combination, especially if you throw Arlong the Saw into the mixture. Buggy’s not a recluse; he’s heard of his reputation as the self-proclaimed ruler of the East Blue. Ask just about anyone who he is, and they’ll whisper his name while pissing their pants like school children.

A misanthrope with a less than discreet disdain for all things human, and a face only a mother could hope to love, the guy does not fuck around with what he considers his, which approximately covers all of the East Blue. And the people in it are merely collateral.

If anything’s a testament, it’s his bounty. Twenty million berries for his head, doesn’t matter if it’s attached to his body or not. The highest bounty on this piece of the ocean.

Well, second highest. The top spot belongs to you, but that’s a thought Buggy has tried desperately to bury in the sand for the past few days. He doesn’t need to think about you, least of all now.

He has bigger fish to deal with, and it blows.

It’s his fucking luck that this is happening specifically to him.

No, it wasn’t enough that he got his ass handed to him by a bunch of scrawny nobodies.

It didn’t suffice that he had to watch you turn your back to him twice in a lifetime.

He’s managed to evade the saw-nosed fucker’s eye up until this point, and so, of course Fate would deal him this final one.

Just as the cherry on top of the shitty sundae that is his life.

So, to conceal or own terrified state when faced with the darkened stage room, Buggy decides to do what Buggy does best:

Fake it ‘til he makes it.

And he sure as fuck hope he does.

“Is this the best way to ask for an autograph?” His echo bounces like a ball through the darkened room. “I mean sheesh! Fans have gotten so toxic!”

The eerie silence is his only companion now, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Not even the two fishy folks standing guard at his side offers him more than rolled eyes. Rude.

This place — his stage — which once served as his sanctuary, might soon become his tomb. If Arlong lives up to his rep, he’ll ask the clown to dig his own hole before chomping on his jugular.

Curtains for him and all fucking that.

“Alright, what do you want?! Tickets to the show? I can get you house seats, they’re pricey!”

A loud thud emerges from the shadows behind him, and a cold breeze brushes against the the exposed skin on his face.

“Oh, I am no fan of yours.”

He knows a beast when he hears one, even better when he sees them. He spent the good portion of his youth alongside one, and witnessed first-hand just how they could be. Beasts are strong, and brutal, and precise. They can tear you apart if they deem it necessary because it’s in their nature, but that’s all it is. Nature.

However, Buggy’s also come to discover that beasts have also the capacity for kindness and love. A beast is someone he can fall in love with.

This thing that emerges from the dark at his side, on the other hand, is no mere beast.

Hell, he can’t even qualify it as such. This creature at his side, one he doesn’t dare to face at first until he notices it’s gradual approach, is a monster.

Ain’t no way in the blue hell he’ll ever consider tapping that the way he would with a beast.

“I run things here in the East Blue,” the fish-man speaks, voice grating Buggy ears as he circles the clown. “I’m here to remind of you of your place in the food chain. You pull a job in my seas, you gotta pay tribute.”

Despite the fact that he’s nervous as shit, there’s a certain taunt crystallising in Buggy’s brain that he’s subconsciously urged to free against his better judgement.

Arlong’s place is second in this so-called food chain. Yours is the first, and if it wasn’t for the fact that voicing this would guarantee his premature death, Buggy would’ve reminded the fishy shithead of this.

Despite whatever grievances you two share, Buggy knows that he won’t mind not being at the top as long as it means it’s not under Shark-boy’s hierarchy.

The East Blue is, per Arlong’s definition, yours, whether you know it or not, and he’d much rather comply with that.

But Buggy keeps his act going. “But Arlong, baby, you don’t gotta worry about me. I’m small potatoes. Pirating’s more of a side gig.”

As much as he tries, and he does try, Buggy knows his words can’t keep the shark’s teeth at bay for much longer. Arlong is not a patient type, and it just about snaps when he reaches for his throat and prepares to chomp.

Buggy doesn’t intend to die now. He can’t. He’s got unfinished business to attend to.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

Maybe fate is actually on his side for fucking once, because the fish man actually does wait.

He has a shot.

“You know who’s out there really disrespecting you? It’s that little Rubber-Prick in the straw hat, goes by the name of Luffy.”

It doesn’t work, because it seems Arlong is more of a recluse than him. Has never heard the boys name. So, he tries a different approach before the teeth settle in again.

“He— He’s not alone.” Fuck, he’s losing air, and he kinda needs that to get the primary point into Arlong's thick, scaly head. A point that he’ll be sure to catch the asshole’s attention. “Cross-Hairs is with him!”

Arlong halts, and his lips don a sneer.

Another thing Buggy has discovered in all of this is that Arlong is an inherently proud guy, and believes himself superior to others not only because of his fishy nature, but due to the fact that he has among the largest bounties on this piece of the map.

Yours is the only obstacle keeping him from completely claiming that title.

“The Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates has been absent for the past decade.” Arlong lets up on the pressure around his neck, enough to let Buggy grasp a few fistfuls of air, but his feet still dangle above the ground.

“Y-Yeah—,” Buggy heaves. “But her— b-bounty hasn’t changed, has it? And the kid, he just knocked over a marine’s base in Shells Town, then he stole a map of the Grand Line and now he’s talking shit about finding the One Piece.”

This seems to be enough reason for Arlong to finally drop him, and Buggy struggles to retrieve all the air he’s lost.

“The One Piece, an excuse for humans to spread their filth across the seas.” Arlong is less than impressed, but what he says next opens a door. “Why should I concern myself with the ambitions of a mere human boy?”

“Because that map is useful,” Buggy regains some semblance of balance on his knees. “The kid is not, but I have unfinished business with him. What’s more, if Cross-Hairs is with him, then that’s your chance to get the highest bounty in all of the East Blue. Think about it! You’ll be at the top of the list if she’s out of the way.”

Arlong doesn’t like the implication laced in Buggy’s words, the possibility that he’s in any way lesser than a human. “I am already at the top of the list, clown. The Cross-Haired Pirates are disbanded, and humans tend to age so quickly compared to fish men. I’m sure she’s grown old and weary in the last couple of years, hardly worth my time.”

Buggy wants to smile. Smile as he thinks about just how fucking wrong this guy can be. The years have not drained you, nor weakened you, nor made you any less hot if he does say so himself.

Oh, if anyone can wipe the floor with Arlong, it’s you. That’s why he’s not afraid of revealing your current whereabouts, because he already knows fishy over there will get his ass whopped big time.

“How about this: you let me live, and I’ll help you find Luffy and Cross-Hairs. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

Two birds, one stone, and one fish filet, to be more specific.

Arlong grabs him by the neck. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I've got eyes and ears everywhere.”

The fish takes the bait, and Buggy can't help but laugh.

Laugh, not because Arlong agrees to his plan, but because the guy is going to be struck by lightning so fucking hard that in the end, there'll be nothing left of him save for that ugly-ass tool he calls a nose.

The moron has deliberately put himself up for slaughter, and personally, Buggy can’t wait to watch the show unfold.

The stage is yours.

He’ll watch from the front rows and give you an upstanding applause once the curtains falls.

---

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k, @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy x you #one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #arlong

[doubledown]

Yall already know the drill no MLM fetish people as for minors go while I'd prefer you not to interact I cant control what you do

So this is abit of a specific fic for a certain someone ( you know who you are pooks 💕 )

The reader is Latino with a brown complextion feel free to imagine them in whatever shade you want

The reader will be male and masc terms will be used for them

Some Spanish will be in this used in this fic but a translation with be provided so dont worry about havin to go to google translate

This will most likely be around 2 or 3 parts depending on my motivation

ALSO I HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE so uh if its not like canon him I'm sorry 🧍‍♀️

Degration, Hook up, Hand job, Public Sex, Cheating, S_lf h_rm ( not described implied tho ), HEAVY Voice Kink

HEAVY on criticism. Trying out a new writing style since I noticed that the one I currently due really doesn't stimulate my brain enough which leads to writer's block. SO YEAH LMFAO HAVE FUN ( P.S THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITEEE AND IT IS KINDA LONG SO SEAT BACKK AND ENJOYYYYYYY )🧍‍♀️

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Your mama says I'm a fool

And yeah, maybe that's true 'cause I can't

stop thinkin' 'bout you

I'm tryin'

I'm tryin' not to forget my words

'Cause when I'm around you, I tend to keep

changin' my mind

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miguel murmered as the smell of heavy whiskey and cheap liquor crowded around him. He wasn't a drinker at all. He hadn't even thought about it. Well.....not until today. Everything was just going to shit. So he figured he drown himself in something other then self destruction and exhaustion. At least this would kill his worries for awhile after all what's the point of multiverse travel if you couldn't do somewhere where you were unknown? A place you could simply escape without anybody finding you or judging you for your actions. Nobody to put a strong and dominate front for. Just simply unknown and out of touch. " What's on your mind to drink tonight? " The bartender asked abit of a friendly smile on his face. Miguel honestly didn't know what to choose so he just said the first brand of liquor that came to mind. " Just a few shots of fireball.." He said resting his arms on the bar. " Alright hot shot your drinks will be ready in abit. " The bartender said quickly soon off to go take other orders while simultaneously making drinks. He couldn't say he wasn't impressed in all honesty but he had seen it done by failedly by parker. He always tended to try things that really didn't suit him. The bartender looked up and Miguel heart almost sunk in his chest when he spoke. " Buyin a drink or did ya miss me y/n? " The bartender asked leaning over the bar giving a peck on the lips to you.

He couldn't look. He wouldn't look. Yet the gentle rumble in your voice was something that always had a hold on him. " Why not both? " You teased catching onto your lover's lip in your teeth before letting go with a smirk. " You know what I like cariño. " [ darling/dear ] Cariño. Cariño Cariño Cariño Cariño...Even after years away from each other the word still made him his heart burn. Just the way your accent just drove him mad was something that he couldn't even begin to explain. Yet he knew it wasn't his place to feel that way nor right. You two were seperated now. But he wished that things had gone very differently.

" Miguel......Surprised to see you here. " You said your tone neutral but he could feel the hiss of anger in your eyes. You two broke up on a rather...messy note. Things were just too much and miguel wasn't excatly helping with being fuckin spider man and shit. You didn't- No. You couldn't do it. You weren't gonna live in fear that somebody may one day hurt you because they may have followed him home or some shit. So you suggested he retire from doing the whole superhero thing. And he didn't at all take it well. The two of you argued about it for days which turned into weeks. Things were said and one thing led to the other and soon you two weren't even remotely related anymore. He choose people he didn't even know over you. And it stung like hell. But you moved on and forward. And to see him in such a low state....it....it messed with you abit. It brought back some things that you really wished you had buried lower..

" Y/N. It's nice to see you again. " He said with a small smile. You had always been rather...eye pleasing to put it appropriately. Everything just fit so perfectly on you. Every feature on your face to every hair on you head was completely and utterly put together so...Intoxicatingly. And your voice....fuck your voice.... " Ah Im guessin you guys have past? " The voice of your lover pulled him away before his thoughts had a chance to tip off. " Yeah. He's an old friend. " You said simply without bothering to look at the other man. You already you tired from work and really didnt want want to deal with your partner gettin all pissy that your ex is here. " Just a shot of jack daniels Mí Corazón. " you purred. [ My heart ] You knew what your voice did to Miguel. You know what you could gain from him just with a few soft I love yous or just simply saying his name the way he liked. He was a slut for words. Literally. And you had no sympthay for him left in you to care. After all it seemed more like a personal problem then anything. Sucks to suck.

You sat down next to Miguel resting you arms on the bar slightly leaning just enough for that slight arch in your back to show. It was wrong you knew that. Quietly seducing your ex while your partner was right in front of you. But after all you had to return the favor. Finding those texts from all those different guys. You wondered how many times he had fucked some guy while on shift. More importantly how many of them were here now. Miguel was weak when it came to you. He always had been. And the way he shifted in his seat when ever you spoke or the way he seemed so dazzedly focused on your features only proved that he still was a little whore for you. But you weren't gonna simply just give him what he wanted. No. That be too merciful. He needed to beg. Like bitch in heat. He needed to beg like fucking him was a need. Like he couldn't survive without you stuffing him full of what he knew craved.

Miguel cleared his throat and diverted his eyes to his drink as the bartender brough back his drink. " I didn't know you were into liquor. " You said with abit of a curious tone. When did he start drinking?? He always had hated the smell of alcohol at least you thought he did. He used to get onto you about drinking all the time goin on and on about how it could mess up your liver and such. Yet here he was puttin his feelings into a cup. Crazy how things change. " And I thought you didn't fall under stress. " He muttered taking drinking it down in a quick motion. He gagged slightly before swallowing a rather displeasing look on his face. " What? The bite too much for you amor? " [ Love ] You snarked a teasing smile on your face. " No. It's just stronger then what I'm used to. " He mumbled clearly embarrassed by his own reaction. The wound between you too was still fairly fresh. Even more unattended then you both thought. The dismissed jab from Miguel only just proved it.

You swished your drink around not even really wantin it in all honesty. It just felt all surreal and awkward having him around. It just didn't feel natural anymore. And you hated it so fuckin much. Your thoughts were brought out by your rather oblivious boyfriend giving you a kiss on the forehead. " Hey sorry to interrupt you in your space but I gotta head out for a bit. A friend from work needs help movin some furniture. " He said with a smile. " Don't worry about the bar ken is already gettin ready for his shift. " He continued giving you a finally peck before leaving. So that's how he did it. He made a lame ass excuse and left before he could be asked questions. Huh. It was the only thought that came into your mind. At this point feelin guilty was out of the picture entirely. After all if he could go have fun why couldn't you.

You leaned up slightly your left hand grazing the other's thigh as he stiffened. He looked at you confusedly and you simply looked at him for permission. You had always been abit of a fan for open things. It obviously took him a minute to realize what you wanted to do and the clear surprise look on his face almost made you laugh. Yet odd enough he moved his seat abit closer to you despite it. " Hm. Seems like somebody missed old times. " You hummed to yourself teasing his cock through his jeans. He shifted in his seat as he rested his hand on his forehead trying his hardest not to thrust up for attention. You slowly but carefully unzipped his jeans and the entire time the poor man was figiting in his seat. " Desperate much? " You murmed loosely as you teased the head of his swollen cock.

He huffed sharply as he shifted his weight toward your as you wrapped your pretty hands around his cock and pumped it at a rather fast pace. A small whimper came from his throat as you stroked him precum dripping as your pace became relentless. He put his head down on the bar ledge his one hand covering his mouth trying so hard to quiet his soft rambles of pleasure. He twitched and pulsed as what seemed like hours to him as his responses simply got harder and harder to hide. At this point he was pratically mind numb with pleasure and being a whiny mess of a man. Yet you weren't done with your pretty boy just yet. Things were simply getting started.

#dom male reader #sub character #sub miguel o'hara #top male reader #male y/n #dom reader #submissivecharacter #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #lowkeywannabendhimover #LOLENJOYY #YesIdidleaveyallonacliffhangersorrynotsorry🤞🙄/j/lh