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#you will note that it is currently march.
kirby-the-gorb · 1 year
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gomiworm · 2 years
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hate that capitalism makes me feel guilty for calling in sick even when i most definitely am sick and could not perform well. i mean, what reason would i have to lie about that? im missing out of money opportunities. im the one losing here.
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karlicartoons · 1 year
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WALT DISNEY PRODUCTION WORKERS NEED YOUR HELP!
(Edit 05/15/2023): NOW THE WRITERS NEED YOUR HELP! THEY ARE CURRENTLY ON STRIKE RIGHT NOW!!
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(Posted March 8, 2023) Hey fam! The Mouse is refusing to recognize the unionization efforts of its production workers. If you're not familiar with what PCs or PMs do, I'll outline it briefly. The tl;dr is that NO ANIMATION WOULD GET DONE WITHOUT PRODUCTION WORKERS. They are the glue holding together every single production of your very favorite cartoons!
They take notes in all the meetings with the artists.
They make sure the artists are meeting their deadlines (and showing up to the meetings in the first place).
They help us navigate studio servers to find the files we're looking for.
They send us our time cards, and make sure we get paid!
Production workers do all this and more, often for minimum wage. The hardships that they suffer as a result--the long hours, the unpaid overtime, the abuses of power--are horrific.
You'd really think that they'd be compensated fairly for these jobs! Can you imagine trying to live in Los Angeles or New York on minimum wage with a job that definitely won't allow you time to pick up a second or third one??
This has to stop, and you can help.
All that Walt Disney Animation Studio's production workers ask is that you add your name to this petition! That's it.
This isn't some Change.org petition. It's not going to sell your email to spam companies. This is through IATSE (our union)'s website.
TELL DISNEY YOU STAND WITH PRODUCTION WORKERS!!!
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drchucktingle · 1 year
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Monica is the head negotiator for the Writer’s Guild, a collective of Hollywood screenwriters who are edging closer and closer to a full on strike if the studios refuse to meet their incredibly reasonable demands. All the writers are asking for is fair treatment and compensation for their labor, but after a meeting with the greedy T-Rex CEO of Cobbler Studios goes south, a strike is called.
Now Monica and her companions are marching the picket lines and making their voices heard, working together to create better working across the film industry.
Unfortunately, this puts a terrible distance between Monica and her girlfriend Holly, who happens to be the physical manifestation of her own screenwriting. With no way to process these feelings, Monica looks for solace in the writing community itself, but will these efforts be enough to battle the cruel, money-hungry CEOs?
This important no sex tale is 4,100 words of collective bargaining as laborers organize to protest a nauseating dinosaur CEO with the power of solidarity and love.
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AUTHORS NOTE: greeting buckaroos. this tingler is given to all FOR FREE in solidarity with writers guild buds who are currently making their voices heard and striking with incredibly reasonable demands.
the wga is asking that any donations go to the ENTERTAINMENT COMMUNITY FUND which is used to directly help those in the entertainment industry in need and who will feel the financial burden of not working during a strike. 
as i said this tingler is free HOWEVER if you have the means you can donate the amount a tingler usually costs (three dollars or MORE if you would like) to the charity fund and support. just click the link and when it says 'gift designation' select 'film and television'
DONATE HERE 
if you would like to know other ways you can support those currently on the picket line click here 
LOVE IS REAL - chuck
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funniest disney history facts i can think of atm
literally EVERYBODY thought the lion king was gonna flop and pocahontas would be their greatest movie ever made. people begged to ditch lion king and work on pocahontas.
the reason robin hood ends so abruptly is that there was an actual ending planned and storyboarded but the crew spent too long arguing about everyone’s fursonas to finish animating it
madam mim was way less comedic in the original book but because her character was too similar to maleficent (who was in their latest film at the time), the sword and the stone crew decided to differentiate her by making her fucking hilarious
when making a goofy movie, jeffrey katzenberg (studio chairman at the time) told bill farmer to give goofy “a normal voice.” farmer, who had been voicing goofy for eight years at that point, including in the goof troop show that a goofy movie was a sequel to, was very confused. after making an attempt they decided to scrap that note completely.
as of march 2023, farmer is still voicing goofy, and tony anselmo has been voicing donald since 1986. the 2017 reboot of ducktales, which was slated as “wanting to do for donald what goofy movie did for goofy,” featured both actors as those characters; they had also been doing the voices for the original ducktales and goof troop/goofy movie. all the times goofy and donald interact in the 2017 ducktales however, donald was voiced by guest star don cheadle as a joke
current voice of mickey mouse bret iwan has stated that he has attempted to play kingdom hearts and did not do well
disneyland’s current world of color halloween overlay features a plot that is basically “the disney villains simultaneously adopt a goth kid” and i love it
people will make jokes about “well math says that the beast would’ve been 11 when he was cursed” well that was actually the original intent, but a flashback scene of baby beast was scrapped because he looked “too much like eddie munster”
when disney sent a representative to pixar to check on toy story production, she was like “this is all great! what style of music are you thinking” and they were like “for what” “for the songs” “we uh. we weren’t gonna have. any songs” and she went dead silent and then went “i have to make a call” and left the room
saludos amigos and the three caballeros were made as ww2 propaganda. the government commissioned disney to make movies to make latin america like them so that they wouldnt side with the nazis and provide them an in to invade, and latin america really liked donald duck so
saludos amigos was apparently the first time many usamericans realized that latin american people were like. people. film historian alfred charles richard jr said that the film “did more to cement a community of interest between peoples of the americas in a few months than the state department had in fifty years”
while latin america generally liked both films, chilean cartoonist rené rios boettiger fucking hated the chilean segment of saludos amigos, seeing the main character of pedro the plane as a weakass bitch, so in response he created condorito, the most popular comic character in all of latin america
disney wanted to adapt ts eliot’s old possum’s book of practical cats. his widow adamantly refused, and then sold the rights to andrew lloyd webber bc he wanted to make it sexy and she said “tom would’ve liked that”
in case you haven’t seen the defunctland, walt disney wanted epcot to be a futuristic utopia where he was basically the dictator. then he died so they just made it another theme park
speaking of defunctland the first defunctland video was on disneyworld’s alien attraction and please watch it. please it’s so funny
after the huge failure of the black cauldron disney was going to shut down its animation department. the department tried to convince them to keep them alive by showing them the one scene they had finished for the next movie– the mouse burlesque from the great mouse detective. it worked
the only attraction the black cauldron ever got was in tokyo disneyland where they put a tour under cinderella’s castle where everyone had to escape the disney villains trying to kill them, only to end at the horned king and the cauldron, who would try to sacrifice them to satan. this tour was popular but was closed in the early 2000s as the tunnels didn’t fit earthquake regulations and i want it in disneyworld so bad
walt disney once referred to his unionizing workers, led by goofy’s creator art babbitt, as “commie sons of bitches,” and i want a mickey build-a-bear that calls me a commie son-of-a-bitch whenever i squeeze its paw
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theostrophywife · 8 months
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shut up kiss me.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.
author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭
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Theodore. Fucking. Nott. 
Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far. 
You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy. 
“Where the hell is he?”
He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”
“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.” 
The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”
The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst. 
“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”
“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”
Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.” 
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!” 
Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard. 
You were going to kill him. 
“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.” 
You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso. 
“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”
Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”
Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?” 
“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”
“Just hear him out, okay?” 
Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”
“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.” 
“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.” 
“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.” 
You huffed. “That makes two of us.” 
The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” 
Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively. 
“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”
“For what?” 
“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?” 
“He deserved it.” 
“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?” 
Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.” 
“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?” 
His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”
“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?” 
Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.” 
You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?” 
When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury. 
“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.” 
The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.
“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.” 
You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go. 
“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.” 
Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick. 
“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”
“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.” 
“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.” 
You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence. 
“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”
The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you. 
For crying in front of your worst enemy.
The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer. 
“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.” 
Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.” 
You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?” 
He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you. 
“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”
You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!” 
Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.” 
Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.” 
The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up. 
“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…” 
Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?” 
The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control. 
“Because you never told me, you idiot!”
“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.” 
“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.” 
You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was. 
“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?” 
Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest. 
“Because at least you were thinking of me.”
You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once. 
Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.” 
He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up. 
“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks. 
“You have nothing to apologize for, love.” 
“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.” 
“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.” 
Because at least you were thinking of me. 
It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved. 
“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.” 
Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?” 
You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field. 
So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on. 
“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?” 
You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin. 
“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.” 
Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.
“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?” 
He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed. 
Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive. 
If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning. 
It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night. 
Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place. 
You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way. 
“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?” 
You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”
Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died. 
Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste. 
He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth. 
“Need some help, love?” 
You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. 
Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat. 
Then he fucking moaned. 
It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again. 
“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”
“What is it, Theo?”
“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.” 
“What are you saying, Theo?” 
“I want you to be mine, Y/N.” 
You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”
“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.” 
“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” 
“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.” 
He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future. 
You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you. 
“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?” 
He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.” 
You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?” 
“Everything about you turns me on.” 
“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.” 
“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.” 
You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down. 
“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.” 
“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.” 
“I bet you are, darling.” 
You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.” 
He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”
Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off. 
On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?” 
“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?” 
“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.” 
Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.” 
“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.” 
He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.” 
You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.” 
“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?” 
“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”
“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.” 
“Yes ma'am.” 
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taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468
please let me know if you'd like to be added.
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iceunhie · 8 months
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voicelines about you: as their lover !
featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)
notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!
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Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)
About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.
About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.
About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.
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Gepard Landau
About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?
About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.
About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.
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Jing Yuan
About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…
About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.
(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.
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Jingliu
About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.
About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.
(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.
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Kafka
About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?
About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~
About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.
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© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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lostboywriting · 3 months
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OHHH, I just thought of something.
It's been bugging me that Norris, Chester, and Augustus started speaking around a year ago, and I've been wondering about the significance of that timing. At first I thought maybe it was some consequence of whatever RedCanary stumbled into at the Magnus Institute, because that was a bit over a year and a half ago--we know from the case numbering system that the episodes are taking place in the present day (episode 2 was taking place on Jan 18 2024; note for my fellow US folks that the dates are the UK standard with day first, not month). And from the dates on the forum posts, RedCanary's series of unfortunate events was in April 2022.
BUT based on their case numbers, which give the date the case's events happened even if that's not said in the episode, all the incidents Sam has looked at so far were from mid 2022. They're not perfectly grouped together; the dolls and Arthur and RedCanary were all April through May 2022, while Daria's therapy appointment was September--that last one's a bit of a jump, but it could have happened depending on how cases are being allotted among the various workers. But they're all close enough that it's a plausible assumption, I think, that FR3-D1 is generally finding these things roughly as they're posted and then adding them into people's queues for review. This would mean they're at a current backlog of around a year and a half. (Looking at you, Gwen...)
If that's the case, and if the OIAR's workers have been maintaining a roughly constant rate, then around a year ago they would probably have been reviewing a lot of cases that FR3-D1 found in early to mid-2021. Which means they'd have been opening files that have been sitting in their database untouched since that time.
MAG200 aired on March 25, 2021.
Whether Chester and Norris are a Ushanka'd JMart, or something resulting purely from Annabelle Caine's manipulation of their voices, or something else entirely... l don't know. But I am betting that they didn't start as part of the system, like Colin thinks they did. I think there was some direct consequence of MAG200's events which led to them being embedded in a post that FR3-D1 scraped up, and that they simply weren't activated and "let loose" until some unknowing office worker clicked on their file.
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hyperfixat · 6 months
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hehe here's this 2k brain rot that @suiana's post gave me (permission proof - not a thief!)
i turned caelus into a they them not sorry. also if the formatting is odd, i’m on my pc and i usually use my phone so.
They’re back.  Again.  
March has to stifle the screams of anger she wants to let out as the shackles of stillness finally free her.  Like ice melting Caelus and Dan Heng begin to move around, continuing where they had left them stranded and abandoned, left to stay stagnant at their whim. 
The worse thing is that she can’t even complain, not for lack of desire to do so, no, no she physically cannot voice her complaints.  And March knows she isn't crazy, she’s caught the twinge of annoyance in Welt’s eyes when he unpaused; seen the ghost of a scowl on Seele’s face; even the carefully controlled hardened gaze of Dan Heng has cracked before.
The Trailblazer is the only one who hasn’t cracked, obediently stopping when they will them to do so, and ever so happy to come back at their will.  March wants to corner them and ask how and why, if they know what's going on, but alas: she must trot along with her friends at their wicked will.
Dan Heng doesn't know what you are, because surely you can’t be an Aeon.  Aeons don’t hold the powers you do, even if they did surely there would be some record of you in the archives, right?  No Aeon dead or alive has the ability to puppeteer humans, and it frightens him that there is something out there that is using him in such a way.  It embitters him, both the unknown surrounding them and the way he is treated; how his whole world is put on a pause while he remains aware.  Aware of how the breeze stills and the stars stop twinkling, how the world goes silent.  What could hold such power? 
A shudder runs down his spine as he follows the Trailblazer’s party.
Welt has witnessed a lot in his time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Himeko has witnessed a lot in her time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Bronya, Seele, Sampo, and Natasha have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Yukong, Loucha, Fu Xuan, and Jing Yuan have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
The different paths they all walk may intervene, as their personalities and beliefs may differ but there is one truth they can all agree on.
They hate you.
Caelus doesn’t.  Rather, Caelus can’t help but love you; you gave them life and led them through their trials.  You keep them safe and armored. You help them find the words to face others when their mind goes blank. 
To Caelus you are the world.
The Aeons came to know of you when Dan Heng’s frantic searches focused on them for a little too long.  While he was scanning the records they saw you.  You were intriguing from the get go, a pretty thing, sitting comfortably as a figure in the sky. The Preservation and The Nihility, whose current forms allow for more ease with floating went as far as they could to reach you.
Yet you remain just out of reach of the Aeons.
The Abundance uses one of her many arms to steady herself as she crawls along the very fabrics of their reality to get a closer look at you.  And what a darling thing you are!  Excitement that she hasn’t felt in a long, long time, perhaps for the first time ever fills her up inside.  With a shaky hand, she motions for the other Aeons to take a closer look at you.
From there the… shall we say, worship, began.
Nanook, The Destruction, takes note of your fondness for certain characters, and what his darling likes, he likes, so when the Antimatter Legion he has blessed come across the ones you are fond of, their attacks are lighter and they lose his blessing temporarily.  Sure, he wished some of the gushing from beyond the sky was for him, but you so rarely see his face on the screen (only ever in the Simulated Universe you put that Caelus through) he can’t blame you.
IX, The Nihility, will not change in their ways, not even someone like you can shift the nihilism they embody, but, perhaps you don’t notice it, your teams deal better damage over time, don’t they?  Don’t take their blessings lightly, it took a lot to bring them there.
Yaoshi, perhaps makes it the most obvious (despite you never noticing), your favorite vessels get a wonderfully boosted health bar.  You never knew to question how Blade managed to get nine thousand hit points.
It’s hard to pinpoint who thought of it first, perhaps IX or Fuli, but the Aeons, the strongest Aeons, gathered to pull you down from beyond the sky.  Through a (top secret) ritual you find yourself being hurtled down like a meteor into the freezing snow of the Outlying Snow Plains. 
You wake to the kind face of Caelus, which is a bit odd because he’s not supposed to be so… high res.  Or real.
“Are you alright, My Lord?”  The title doesn’t immediately resonate with you, so you disregard hearing it.  When you don’t answer right away they frown in worry, hands moving to yours, gently covering them with their warmth.
“What happened?  Why am I here?”
“You fell from the sky, do you not remember?”
“No,” what sky would you have fallen from?  You tend to stay on the ground.
Caelus worries their bottom lip and helps you sit up.  “Oh.”  There’s a pause.  “Did you not mean to come here? I thought….”
“Hm?” You prod, gently encouraging them to talk.
“I thought you were coming to see me,” their face is tinged pink and facing down in their lap.  Caelus’ hands feel hot and you rush to reassure them.
“I’m glad to see you, but I don’t know how or why I’m here,” you pause, cringing internally.  “Caelus.”  Fuck, that is their name right?  No last minute changes?
Luckily their face lights up when you say it and you find yourself pressed into their soft chest, their arms around you in a bear hug. 
“You’re really them.”  A breathy, ecstatic phrase.  Their face buries into your hair and Caelus doesn’t loosen their hold until a knock at their door.
“Trailblazer!  Pompom here, requesting an update on Their Grace’s status.”  
Caelus gently detaches themself from you and opens the door to reveal the tiny rabbit-oid conductor.  Pompom bashfully rubs their hands together when they catch sight of you awake and looking at them.
“Hello, Your Grace, Pompom is glad to see you awake and healthy.”  
What a cute creature, you think.  “Thank you, Conductor Pompom.”
They let out a squeak at your words and nod.  “Pompom needs to go check in on the other passengers, but let Pompom know if you need anything, okay, Your Grace?”
“Oh, thank you Pompom.”  They hurry away, stubby feet padding quickly down the carpeted halls.  You turn your head to Caelus, “what was that about?”
“Hm?”  Their golden eyes meet yours, head tilting.
“Why did they call me those things, Your Grace?”  
“Because you are our God above Aeons.  Do you… were you somehow unaware of that?”
The words hit you like a freight train.  “No, I’m not.”  It’s all you can think to say.
Caelus sits next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your knee.  “Yes you are.  We can feel it.  You are the one that controls this world and gives us life.”
Controls this world… and gives them life… fuck, the game… you’ve been playing these sentient beings.  Your tummy hurts at the knowledge . 
“Oh, I’m— I’m sorry.”  Your eyes prick with tears, the gravity of what you’ve been doing; how you’ve dragged these people into battles for fun.  You couldn’t have know, but it doesn’t stop the guilt eating at you.
“No, no, what are you apologizing for?”  Caelus’ hands cup your face, a finger catching the tears that drip over the brim of your waterline.  Their voice drops to a whisper, “please don’t cry, My Lord.”
You suddenly feel very watched, like a million eyes are on you.  Caelus never closed his door.  You look up and catch sight of March 7th’s glare.  The intensity of it makes you flinch back, making Caelus look up, over to:
“March, don’t give them that look.”  They scold the girl, who turns the withering look to them.
“Why are you taking care of that monster?  We told you to leave them to freeze in the snow.”  The words make your heart sink.  Being on this side of such venomous words stings, especially from someone you never would have pegged to be so hateful.
Caelus bares thier teeth, a mix of offense and hurt on their face.  “And I told you I would do no such thing to our God.”
“That is no God.”  Her voice shakes as does her head, before turning around and walking away.
“Don’t listen to her.” Caelus shakes their head in disappointment. “She doesn’t understand what all you do for us.  Please don’t hold it against her.”
They, the Astral Express, do not like you.  Caelus and Pompom do, they hold you in reverence, which is better than how March, Himeko, Welt, and Dan Heng treat you.  It’s all dirty looks and only partially veiled insults.  Caelus gets into arguments with them over you.  
You hate to think that you’re harming the friendships between them, and when you brought your concern up, Caelus dismissed you saying you are worth it all.  
Yeah, there’s that.  You’ve tried to explain that you are not God, but they won’t hear you out.  :(
It’s a perfectly normal day on the Astral Express when the Aeons come. 
Nanook is the first one to descend into the Parlor Car; Caelus and Dan Heng immediately drawing their weapons, The Destruction laughs once, eyes moving to focus solely on you.
“It’s so good to see you, My darling Lord.”  His voice is low and deep, and the gold flowing freely from the wounds (?) on his arms leaves a trail on the carpet as he approaches to kneel in front of you.  From your peripheral you see Dan Heng and Caelus share a look before lowering their respective weapons.
Nanook, you recognize him from the Simulated Universe blessings screen, grabs your hand, gracing the back of your palm with a chaste kiss.  His golden eyes peek up at you from behind long lashes.
“How has the Express been treating you?  I regret not being able to welcome you to this existence, but alas the ritual took a lot out of us…”
What.
“Oh, uh,” your eyes flicker around the cabin nervously.  “I’m doing alright, th-thanks…”
“Now, now, don’t tease the poor thing,” a beautiful woman (Aeon) walks in, one with many, many arms draped in soft looking, white cloth.  Yaoshi’s eyes soften when she meets your gaze.  “Hello, Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you in the flesh.”
Caelus, Dan Heng, March, everyones’ (save for you and the two Aeons) bodies droop, posture faltering.  IX, The Nihility, has arrived.  An odd feeling, akin to that of a weighted blanket, is pushed onto your body.  It’s them, their astral, cosmic form much smaller than what should be made of their status, laying on your body like a boa.  They don’t speak, though you aren’t  sure they could in this form.
Yaoshi’s eyes flicker with amusement, and Nanook pulls himself up.  “The others were unable to make it, but,” her gaze chills and is directed at the crew of the Express.  “We all wish to make it known that disrespect, anything short of reverence toward Our Grace, will not be tolerated.”
Welt visibly shudders at the threat, and Himeko shares a look with Dan Heng.  They need to reflect on how they feel towards you, tha much is certain.
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driaswrld · 7 months
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city boys! — gojo satoru and geto suguru.
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wc : 1.4k
summary : you go grocery shopping with satoru and suguru and they're just idiots tbvh (gn! reader)
part of : the star paradox collection.
notes : i have shamelessly brought my calculator to a kfc drive thru and yes i do it at the grocery store bcus i have dyscalculia math sucks don't @ me. also i have so much satosugu brainrot i can't breathe. yay to the satoru themed era of the blog :))
other : this can be read as platonic or poly just however you wanna see it! (like three curse words i think - mentions of cunnilingus) I SWEAR ITS NOT WHAT U THINK
current casette : city boys - burna boy
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There’s something about summer that makes Satoru and Suguru hang off your shoulders more than they ought to. In the most mundane situations too.
“—and it’s not even that serious!” Satoru groans, dragging his feet on the floor, reluctantly marching behind where you’re pushing the trolley. “Who cares what kind of curry it is? Curry is curry.” He reasons with a huff.
Suguru nudges you in the middle of the supermarket aisle from time to time, pointing out things you usually buy, brands you usually prefer over most, and you grab whatever you find remotely necessary and toss in the cart, both of you collectively ignoring Satoru’s whines.
“C’monnn… Listen to me!”
You pick up a can of diced pineapple and look at Suguru. “Nah, that one’s too sour,” he murmurs and you put it back instantly. Afterall, Suguru’s the best taste tester you could ever ask for. Satoru just scarfs down everything in a forty mile radius.
“The design on the can was pretty though, ‘s a shame.” You sigh.
Satoru’s groans fall on deaf ears.
You turn a corner and head into the fruit aisle. Suguru’s eyes flick to something over your head and his steps falter for a moment. While you’re pushing the trolley ahead, a soft smack! noise comes from behind you and before you can turn your head—
“No! I wanted the other one—”
“This one’s better—”
You ignore them, albeit barely with all the commotion both boys are causing in the supermarket. Leaning over an array of cherries on display, you hum to yourself, carefully picking the pretty ones to add to the cart, perusing at the other assortment of fruit and if even possible, Satoru and Suguru’s bickering gets louder.
“That tastes like shit—” “You look like shit—”
“You kiss your mom with that mouth?”
“You eat pussy with that mouth?”
You strain your head forward as an old lady strolls past, her eyes a little wide and eyebrows knitted with a look of utter shock and you shrink. With a stiff, humorless giggle you turn your back to her, suddenly finding a bunch of grapes oddly interesting.
Embarrassing.
And when you breathe a breath of relief as the old lady passes by, Satoru swings his arm over your shoulder, pouting. “Suguru’s a dumbass—” He’s cut off by a smack to the back of his head, and despite yourself you can’t help but laugh a little.
“Will you two just behave and,” you shift out of Satoru’s hold to take the mini package of ridiculously sweet m&m infused rice krispies he has in his other hand.
You toss it into the cart. “—help me pick some stuff for my fruit salad?” Satoru shrugs with a sigh, he hates shopping. It’s so boring—
You laugh and pull up the list you typed up on your phone : Raspberries, check. Kiwi, check. Watermelon, check. Grapes…
“What else do you need?” Suguru asks, and he sidesteps Satoru, leaning casually on the trolley, one foot pushing it forward and backward as you look through the fruits. “Grapes—” you murmur, suddenly feeling indecisive as you look through the different bunches. Green or Purple. Purple or Green.
Satoru pushes his sunglasses down to the curve of his nose. “Green, ‘s prettier,” he says and you turn to grab a bunch of the green grapes as Suguru straightens his body, pretending to look over your shoulder as he sneakily drops a package of plain marshmallow rice krispies into the cart. “Yeah, green would make it look way more appealing, wouldn’t it?” You whisper to yourself.
“I saw that—” Satoru begins to say.
“Purple’s better, healthier than the green ones.” Suguru says with a straight face. Behind your back he flips Satoru off.
You shrug your shoulders and grab a small bunch of both. If anything, it’ll be shared well between you and Shoko in the bentos you make. Hopefully she appreciates the struggle.
Sliding your phone unlocked, you glance at the list again as you step off. Grapes, check. Suguru pushes the trolley, following close behind you as Satoru trudges behind him. “Wait—” You halt immediately, and Suguru has to steer the trolley left so he doesn’t run into you, but Satoru steps on the back of Suguru's shoes, and looks away with a bashful whistle.
“Other aisle, we need to turn around.” You say, sliding your phone back into your back pocket. Canned Pineapples. You forgot you put back the last one. “How many damn aisles are there?” Satoru mumbles as you turn and make a beeline for the next corner, going back where the three of you came. Suguru chuckles.
Kneeling, you grab the canned pineapples opposite to the ones Suguru said were sour. Hopefully that much distance in the store is enough of a difference between the two brands.
You check the list one more time. Pineapples, check.
“Right, that should be it.” You mumble and both boys internally celebrate — well, Satoru makes a show of letting out a long dramatic sigh of relief while Suguru nods.
Taking a look into the cart, Satoru pettily moves his package of rice krispies on the other side of the cart, away from Suguru’s and when Suguru looks at him incredulously, he sticks a tongue out, “Your flavor’s trash.”
Suguru rolls his eyes and is about to push the trolley forward to run him over when he sees you pull out a scientific calculator from your tote.
A scientific calculator. The same one you use for school. “The fu—” Satoru is about to say, and Suguru glances at him, both of them trying to at least read each other’s minds about what the hell is going on.
You however, are so hyper focused on your little task, pushing the buttons of your calculator, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. Satoru and Suguru watch you for all of two minutes. One minute spent with expressions morphing from confused, to even more confused, to utterly amused. The second minute spent snickering quietly and snapping silent pictures for the groupchat.
“Huh, I went over a little.” You hum and though they haven’t wiped the sheer amusement off their faces, they both find themselves intrigued. “By how much?” Suguru asks, quickly sending off the pictures to the groupchat.
“Seven hundred yen.” You reply as you step forward to peer into the cart, willing and ready to discard one unnecessary item to drop the price.
Three of your phones chime. Satoru checks his own notification.
[Gojo Fanclub]
Nanaminn <3 : who added me to this???
Nanaminn <3 : delete my number gojo.
“Bet it’s the curry.” Satoru mumbles absentmindedly, typing at his phone screen. “The curry’s like—” he pauses, shoves his phone in his hoodie pocket and counts silently on his fingers. “A thousand yen or something — they must’ve put the god of curry in there or something.”
“It’s not the curry,” you reason scouring the cart for any discrepancies. And there’s quite a few of them. Including but not limited to some Sakura tarts, sour candies, an extra package of rice krispies—
“The curry powder we picked is five hundred yen, it’s not the curry.” Suguru shrugs, and Satoru leans against one of the shelves of seasoning, letting out a quiet sneeze.
“Bless you— I need to recheck these.” The calculator comes out again as you murmur to yourself, the click clacking of the buttons drowning out your own thoughts.
“I’m just saying— maybe it was the rice krispie Suguru snuck into the cart—” Satoru mumbles, all while he bends his body at the end of the aisle, reaching blindly around to the shelves on the other side.
“You put one in, I was only balancing the trolley weight.” Suguru interrupts, and he turns his head away when you look up from your calculator at him accusingly.
“See?” Satoru grins, almost victoriously as he grasps a package of baumkuchen, wheeling his hand back as he sidesteps Suguru, moving to slide the pastry into the trolley. “Who knows what else’ll just drop into the cart?” And your calculator is forgotten as you snatch the pastry from Satoru’s hand. “Nothing else is dropping into the cart—”
But something else catches your attention as you’re about to scold him.
Two bright green bags, hidden at the bottom of the cart, stuffed under the packaging of Sakura tarts.
“Who the hell put Kenpi chips in here?”
Satoru and Suguru both freeze, and suddenly their accusing fingers are pointed at each other. But instead of scolding them like they expect—
“Should’ve at least put one for me.”
You're never going to the grocery store with them again.
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Bonus :
“Satoru’s paying for the extra snacks—”
“Not fair! Suguru shouldn’t get to just stuff his face—”
“Only two of those snacks are mine. Two. Out of ten.”
A notification sounds on the three of your phones.
[Gojo Fanclub]
Nanaminn <3 : is that my calculator that you borrowed???
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@todorokies gets the privilege tag cs i told knives ab this first😭
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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Drunk words, sober secrets
adult Neteyam x female Na’vi reader
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Words: 3.1k
Summary: Getting drunk with Ao‘nung was probably not the best idea you ever had. Good thing a certain someone always makes sure you‘ll get home safe and sound.
Warnings: explicit smut, use of alcohol, reader is super drunk, Ao’nung is a bitch, Neteyam was raised right, sexual harassment, secret crush, thigh riding, praise kink, little bit of angst if you squint
Notes: Tanhì = little star, bioluminescence freckle 💫
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They said the first sip was always the worst. That much was true. You couldn’t help but grimace as the liquid burned it’s way down your throat, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. No wonder they called this a warriors drink. But the next two or three… or ten sips didn’t taste nearly as bad as the first one did. Now it just tasted funny. Matter of fact, everything was pretty funny right now. You couldn’t even contain the giggles and soft laughs at everything that Ao’nung was whispering into your ear. Half of the stuff you didn’t even understand, thanks to the loud chatter and laughter of his friends, who were sitting in a circle around the fireplace with you.
Ao’nung prods the bota bag opening against your lips once again and before you can refuse, he tips the bag up so the liquid inside pours itself right into your mouth. If you were anywhere near sober, you would’ve probably gone crazy about this, but right now you were only capable of smiling and swallowing whatever’s in that bag. You didn’t even register most of the things that were happening around you anymore. It was all just a blur of movements��� the way Ao’nungs arm was laid over your shoulder, how his fingertips toyed with your top, pulling it down enough so he had a descent view of what was underneath. The way his lips lingered on your cheeks or on the shell of your ear, whenever he leaned over to whisper whatever filthy joke came to his mind just to make you laugh some more.
You felt hot. Everything was so hot, your mind felt dizzy from the heat. Did that came from the fireplace or was that the liquor? Even sitting, you had to stabilize yourself by leaning against Ao‘nungs chest for support. He seemed to realize that you became drunker by the second and then a mischievous grin appeared on his face, "Let’s go somewhere more private, hm? What do you say, little pearl, want to have some fun? It’s getting kinda boring here." That sounded really tempting to your ears. Taking your hand in his, he allowed you to stand up first– a task that was way harder than you remembered. Your legs felt like jelly and the world around you spun so much, that you almost fell right back down onto the sandy ground.
But then something firm closes itself around your wrist and pulls, yanks you away from Ao‘nungs grip and makes you stumble forward until you land face first against a solid chest.
"Keep your fucking hands to yourself, before I’ll rip them off!"
You would recognize that voice everywhere, even passed out in a deep coma. It was Neteyam who was currently holding you tight against his chest, his arm wrapped around you, while he spat insults at Ao‘nung.
"She came here on her own, forest boy", the olo’eyktan’s son chuckled and then shrugged, "Don’t act like I forced her to have a good time. It was her decision to—"
"Oh yeah? She definitely looks like she’s capable of making her own decisions right now", Neteyam interrupted him, loud enough that you flinched and that in return finally pulled you out of your drunken trance.
"Teeey, you came!", you slurred a little tardily, "Let’s– Let’s have fun together, Tey!"
"Not now, Tanhì", Neteyam grumbled and then declared this conversation to be over, dragging you with him. His grip on your upper arm was tight enough, he half marched and half carried you with him. "Where are– where we going?", you giggled as if there was anything funny about the situation.
"Home", he responded coldly.
Neteyams steps were solid on the ground, but yours were uneven, shaky, and you stumbled here and there. The walk back to the village would take a while and Neteyam was silent for the most part of it. Everything that he needed to say, he already did. Which mostly contained about lectures, how you shouldn’t drink this stuff and that being in Ao’nungs company wasn’t good for you and that you should be more careful and all that stuff that you were too drunk to pay any attention to. He’s always been a little too overprotective anyways, so it was nothing you hadn’t heard before.
But now he was just silent, listening to your drunken rambles and whatever nonsense came to your mind. Luckily, there weren’t any other metkayina walking around at that time of the night. The alcohol-induced flush on your face was even visible on the dimly lit shore, with the only source of light being the bright stars and polyphemus, pandoras moon. Underneath that flush, your bioluminescence freckles did that sparkle-thing they always did when you were excited. That’s how you earned yourself the nickname tanhí after all.
You were walking a bit behind Neteyam, gesticulating wildly as you spoke, "… and your hair look soo smooth, how does it always look so smooth? Just like your lips, oh I reallyyyy want to kiss you. D-Don’t you want to kiss me? C‘mon tey give me– give me a kiss!"
"I‘m not giving you a kiss", Neteyam said sternly. You’ve been talking about kissing and hair and lips and flying and the ocean and what not for the past twenty minutes– non stop. Only pausing to laugh and giggle. His head was slowly beginning to pound heavily and he prayed to Eywa that this night would be over quickly.
Once your voice drifts a little further off, he turns around to find you sitting down on a big rock near the water. Neteyam looked back at you and turned with a reluctant shake of his head. "Unbelievable…", he mumbled under his breath.
"Okay, okay m-maybe I can give you something else if you don’t want a kiss", you hiccuped and then, to his horrify, you began to lift your loincloth up, "I feel so funny down there, wanna see?"
Neteyam almost chocked on his own spit as he grabbed your wrist to prevent you from doing something you would most definitely regret later.
"Stop that!", he hissed.
"C‘mon tey", you slurred, "I want you soo bad, why don’t we have fun? Ao’nung wanted to have fun with me…" The last part came out as a defiant mumble that Neteyam purposefully tried to ignore. You weren’t yourself. You didn’t mean it, he knew that.
"Keep walking, c‘mon. We’re almost home", he tried to pull you to your feet again, but like a toddler beginning to throw a tantrum, you wriggled yourself out of his grasp to stay seated.
“Noo…I don’t wannaaa", you had adapted a whine to your voice, much to Neteyams dismay.
"Just.. Just gimme a second", you managed in between a chorus of giggles and hiccups and a tiny crinkle formed in the spot just between his eyebrows. Defeated and too tired to keep arguing with the toddler version of yourself, he finally sat down next to you. "My tummy feels funny too", you giggled, "I really want to kiss you, did I ever tell you that? Like, I really really want to kiss you. Why don’t we kiss? Your lips look so smooth, just like your hair. I wish my hair was as pretty as yours! Just like– like your lips. Can I kiss you?"
Neteyam didn’t respond. His hands were balled into tight fists, his knuckles already turning white and so he crossed his arms over his chest. He tried so hard to stay composed. Whatever liquor you had consumed today was probably easier to swallow than the fact that he couldn’t have you... Not even when you were so willing before him, begging to be touched. It was just not right.
You were his best friend. You trusted him with your whole heart, you even knew all of his secrets. Except for one.
That he was in love with you.
For many years Neteyam had tried to keep himself from acting upon his desires. He just didn’t want to risk loosing his dearest friend. He knew that you were probably not interested in anything else but friendship. After all, he had never really felt like you were trying to be more than a friend to him. You didn’t look at him the way he looked at you. When you touched him, it was without any other thoughts. It was just friendly, platonic– a touch between friends, not lovers. Even right now, it felt wrong. The things you said, the things you told him you were thinking about, that was just what the alcohol made you believe. It wasn’t true. You would’ve probably wanted to kiss anyone right now… he was just lucky to be the first best option to be around. It hurt, but Neteyam refused to make himself false hopes.
Neteyam expression was serious, but you loved how it softened slightly when he finally looked over at you.
"Listen Tanhì, I’m not going to take advantage of you", he sighed, "You’re drunk and i‘m taking you home right now."
You groaned when he pulled you against his chest and made you lay your arms around his neck. His thigh wedged itself between your legs and then he bent down to pick you up, but you refused to cooperate.
"C’mon", he grumbled, "Lift your legs, I’m going to carry you."
"Noo tey, don’t be soo boring", you complained.
Neteyams breath stuttered at the whining tone in your voice and having your head so close that your soft hair tickled his collarbone wasn’t helping either. His skin tingled and he felt warmth spreading up to his cheeks when you nuzzled your face against his chest. And then you wiggled your hips and it was like a punch to his guts.
At first, Neteyam didn’t know if you did that intentionally, but then you pressed yourself further down on his leg, until you were sitting on his thigh.
He gulped and gritted his teeth to not let the groan escape which was bubbling up from his chest when he felt your sweet cunt against his skin, only separated by a thin piece of fabric.
“What are you doing?”, he asked in a hushed tone, his hands flying up to grab your hips and prevent you from moving. He just wished he could righten his beginning boner which was pressing in an awkward angle against his loincloth. He had to stop this right now, before you would do something that you would regret as soon as you were sober again.
But you only chuckled, pressing your body tighter against his. “Having fun", you quipped, smirking. You could feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths came out in short pants. You felt his leg tense beneath you, unintentionally applying some delicious pressure against the hot little button at the top of your pussy.
"Don’t do that", Neteyam said lowly and through gritted teeth. His self control was wearing thinner by the second.
"Do what?", you looked up at him, batting your eyes in an act of fake innocence that almost drove him insane. The grip he had on your hips tightened some more, to the point where it almost hurt.
"Put me in a position where I have to resist you."
Neteyams words sent your heart a flutter, stomach bunching into a tight knot and your nerves tingled like a live wire. He must’ve realized how hard he was holding the soft flesh of your hips, because he eased the grip of his hands a little.
"m'sorry", you said softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stared up at him through lidded eyes. The pressure of his muscular thigh made your head feel dizzy, eyes dazed as you tried to focus on him. You couldn’t stop your body from taking what you longed for, slowly beginning to grind yourself against him.
A salacious moan tickled the back of your throat, eyes fluttering and threatening to slip close as a pleasant heat licked at the base of your spine and pooled into the pit of your stomach. Your long lashes brushed against your hot cheeks as another moan spilled from your lips, bare skin prickling with goosebumps as your blood simmered in your veins. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and then a shudder wracked your spine as you dragged your clothed pussy over Neteyams leg. 
"Tanhì", he said it like a warning. "M‘sorry tey", you mumbled under your breath, pouting a little, "can’t help it… y'feel soo good."
Neteyam was sticking by his statement of not helping you. You were drunk. Drunk and needy, but he wouldn’t give in. He didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and think of him as some creep that took advantage of your drunken state. He would’ve been no better than Ao’nung, that prick.
But if you were to do it without his help… That would change the whole situation, right? If you were going to be greedy tonight, you would have to do it yourself, he thought. He wouldn’t take advantage of you. He would just let it happen and not intervene. Then it would be different, it would be fine… right?
Neteyam looked down at you and his heart squeezed tight in his chest. The sigh he let out was one of defeat and then he finally gave in, "It’s okay. Do what you gotta do." His voice was barely above a whisper, but he knew you heard him loud and clear.
You took a deep, shuddering breath, tongue darting over your dry lips as you swallowed around the lump in your throat, unable to respond to him. And then you continued to move your hips.
You experiment with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to get yourself off. It doesn’t take very long to find out what works best for you. Every rock of your hips was bringing you a jolt of pleasure. It felt so euphoric that you found yourself never wanting it to end. Everything was being stimulated with each buck of your hips and small shivers shot up your spine every time you brushed your clit against his muscles.
"That’s it, there you go", Neteyam whispered above you, his hands firm on your hips but still not guiding you as you moved them in little circles, dragging against his thigh.
You were breathing heavily against his skin, eyes squeezed shut as you shamelessly used him for your own pleasure. You just couldn’t help it, too drunk to care.
And Neteyam couldn’t believe how lucky he was to just have you here, humping his leg like you were in heat, hearing how pretty those breathy little moans were. If only you knew how long he had been dreaming about hearing them, but oh Eywa’s ways could be so cruel sometimes. Because now that he finally heard them, he could do nothing but listen.
The bulge under his loincloth was very much prominent, yet he tried his best to angle in his hips so you wouldn’t come close to touching him. If you would, Neteyam didn’t know if he could hold it together any longer… This was a test for his patients and how much he could restrain himself, he thought. And then he cursed Ao‘nung for getting you drunk, cursed you for being so needy and cursed himself for allowing this to even happen.
The thin fabric that separated your sweet cunt from his thigh was becoming more soaked with each drag and pull of your hips. You were growing wetter by the second, so much, that a wet patch was beginning to form on your loincloth. He could feel it on his skin. It made it easier and even more pleasurable for you to glide yourself up and down.
"You’re dripping all over my thigh, tanhí", Neteyam said lowly. He felt the rhythm of your hips stutter for just a second, your arms around his neck tightened and you buried your face deeper into the crock of his neck. "Sorry", was all you managed to respond.
"Don’t apologize, just… just make yourself feel good. I‘m right here, keep going."
You were in complete control of your own movements while his strong hands were digging at your hip so hard, you knew they were going to bruise tomorrow. Still, you kept moving along to the rhythm that you desired, adding more pressure to your clit.
The coil in your abdomen grew tighter and tighter, skin glistening with sweat as your panting increased. The sensation of pleasure was threatening to bubble over, toes curling in anticipation of the snap begging to release inside your body.
Neteyam watched you through lidded eyes, cock straining against his coverings as he felt you soak his thigh. All he wanted to do was reach out and wrap his hands around the soft flesh of your breasts as they bounced gently against his chest with each movement. Instead, he stayed unmoving, hugging you a littler tighter and watching you seek your high.
A mewl came forth as you increased the speed in which you were grinding yourself against him, "I’m so close, tey… can– can I come?"
That familiar coil in your lower abdomen was moments away from snapping. Neteyam hums, voice deep and thick as he spoke to you in a hushed whisper, "Go ahead, tanhì. Come if you want to. Make a mess all over my thigh."
His words were just what you needed, a string of curses falling from your lips as you felt your orgasm wash over you and your walls began to clench around nothing. Your face twists with pleasure as you moan and slide your throbbing clit across his muscular thigh. All you could manage were whimpers and whines as you hurriedly dragged your cunt against his skin until you were shaking and panting heavily.
"Just like that, good girl", Neteyam whispered, "I’ve got you, it’s okay." His hands had moved from your hips to your back, gently caressing your soft skin as you came down from your high. His words made you feel warm inside and his arms around you gave you a feeling of safety.
Tired barely described the way you felt now, your legs felt heavy like stones, your shoulders slump under an invisible weight and your very insides churn sluggishly in protest as you tried to stay awake.
The last thing you were still capable of doing, was lift your legs enough so Neteyam could finally pick you up and scoop you into his arms.
Burning and heavy, your eyelids finally drop as you inhale his scent. It’s nature itself, woody and floral. Comforting. You breathe it in as the world begins to fade from your awareness.
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plutoswritingplanet · 8 months
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Taking What's Not Yours (Dracule Mihawk x Reader)
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a/n: soooooo, there is this pirate warlooooord. basically, i've watched the live action show on Netflix and immediately had to commit a one shot.
Warnings: Pure Smut (i had to get it out of my system), Wall Donging, Use of Alcohol, Stealing, Plotting, Lollygagging, inappropriate use of that cunty cross necklace.
Summary: A misguided attempt at impressing your friend lands you in a very peculiar situation. (cross-posted on AO3)
   The bar buzzed with the energy of drunken people. Your throat still burned with the after-taste of the cheapest rum the establishment had to offer, and for a second you've become deeply worried about losing your eyesight, as faint notes of straight methanol registers in your brain. Then, the pleasant buzz hits your nerves like a suffocating blanket, and in one moment you sense all your troubles drifting away. And there has been quite a lot of troubles on your mind lately.
Mainly, the Marines, their presence an annoying nuisance. By no means were you a pirate, no. You searched for freedom in different ways, such as stealing as much, and as often as you could. Money was the driving force of your life, but you'd be lying, if you said it was the only pleasure you seek. The thrill of the chase, of finding that perfect little trinket you can grab, and your victim would be non the wiser. The euphoria of creating distractions in one place, so you can strike like a viper in another. It made your blood boil with excitement incomparable to anything else. 
On top of that, besides the occasional confrontation, the Marines simply couldn't identify you. All it took, was a bandana around the lower half of your face, and suddenly you were able to march into a bar, such as this, filled with Marines, and no one would notice. Your eyes fall onto a rather skinny one, the belt of his too big uniform is digging into his waist, betraying how little there actually is of him. He looks back at you, smiles, and joins a group of his friends at one of the tables. You reciprocate the smile with a glint in your eye. The poor bastard doesn't know it was you, who stole an antique photo of his grandma right from his breast pocket. 
In your defense, the small frame was made of gold. And damned pretty at that. It fetched you a pretty price too, one you were currently drinking away, waiting for your friend to join you in your efforts of landing under the table by the end of the night. 
You barely manage to go through one fourth of the bottle, when they arrive, smile on their face and hair wild from running through the streets. It all goes downhill from there, as stories and alcohol flow freely between the two of you. It's a welcomed distraction from the gray reality of life, a small ray of sunshine in this murky town. They tell you about the latest heist they've pulled, eyes sparkling in the dim light, as they recount a particularly risky part of their daring escape. You snort into your glass, shake your head.
- See, that's where we're different. - you counter, leaning back into your chair - For me, it's all about stealth. In and out, so they won't know when they've been robbed. 
Your friend giggles to themselves. The drink in their glass splashes slightly, as they place it forcefully on the table. 
- You really think you're that good, huh? - they challenge, and already, you can feel the tingling sensation of excitement at the tips of your fingers. 
- I know so. 
They furrow their brows, turning towards the crowd currently hounding the bartender. There's a mischievous smirk playing around on their lips, as they turn their attention back to you.
- So, if I were to choose any person here, and told you to steal from them unnoticed, you'd do it?
The absolute gall of this question. Of course, you would. Hell, you'd do it multiple times, until this whole bar was filled with people suddenly missing their belongings. Because nothing compared to the thrill of reaching into someone else's pocket unnoticed.
- You know what? - your eyes run across the gathered crowd, smirk playing around on your lips, as you've spotted your chosen victim. - See that guy in the black coat? The one with the big ass hat. I bet I can get that fancy necklace off of him, in like, three minutes tops. 
As you speak, your friend follows your gaze through the Marines, and the pirates, and all the in-betweens. But when their eyes finally land on your target, they freeze in their spot, before rather rudely grabbing your shirt at the collar. Then, so fast, the world starts to spin in front of your eyes, they yank you under the table. Your stomach lurches with protest at the sudden movement. You give your friend a confused shake of your head. 
- Do you have any idea, who you're talking about? - they whisper-yell, eyes wide and clearly terrified. 
- What, about the hat guy?
Apparently you've said it too loud, because your friend nearly launches themselves at you. 
- That's Dracule fucking Mihawk.
From the way they've said the man's name, you gather, it should be at least familiar to you. Unfortunately, you can't say you know much of the world outside of the town, so your confused expression deepens. 
- He's like, the biggest deal - Your friend continues, their grip on your shirt loosening slightly - Like, children read stories about him and shit.
- I didn't - you shrug, before rising slightly up, so you can peek from above the table. 
The hat man has turned his back to you, his stature rather impressing, as he towers over everyone in the establishment. Your eyes follow the dark lapels of his coat, thief senses greedily gliding over the handle of his sword secured to his back. It's reminiscent of a cross, with gigantic, shiny gems nearly tempting you to do something unwise. Your friend tugs you back down, and your chin scratches on the rough surface of the table.
- What is he, like, a missionary? - you ask, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.
- What?
- You know, the cross and all that...
- What kind of missionaries have you been seeing?
Fair point, you think, before risking another peek, against your friend's efforts to pull you down.
 The man, Mihawk, takes a long swing from a flagon filled with something you can't really identify. You watch almost greedily, as his Adam's apple moves, when he swallows his drink. Then, your eyes drift to the necklace, nestled on his exposed chest. Gold, real gold, you can see it from here. Another cross, albeit, much simpler, than what he had on his back. A week of drinks, and fancy ones at that flash before your eyes. 
- Don't even think about it - your friend warns, finally giving up, and letting go of your shirt. 
Your eyes stay fixated on your prize. If you could just see where the clasp of the necklace is...
- Think about what...? - your voice betrays you, and you wet your lips with your tongue in concentration.
- He'll kill you - your friend warns - Like, actually kill you. This is not a man you should fuck with.
At that, you finally tear away, your eyes meeting your friends, a sea of mischief swirling in them.
- Who said anything about fucking? - you say with a wink, and before your friend can say anything else, you rise from your seat.
Taking the half-empty bottle of rum in one, smooth movement, you begin to make your way towards the bar, adding a stumble and a drunken giggle for good measure. The previous ungodly ammounts of liquor circulating your body definitely help with the impression, but you're pleasantly surprised, that your head stays relatively clear. Although, if your target is truly as powerful and dangerous, as your friend makes him out to be, then perhaps you really lost your mind for good. Best not to dwell on it though. 
The man barely spares you a glance, as you collide with the bar right next to him, arm brushing against his in a deliberate movement. You make sure to press your chest against the countertop, before waving at the bartender a bit too enthusiastically. The leftover liquor in your bottle sloshes out, landing straight onto the man's chest and lap. At that, he finally moves, annoyance clear in his rigid posture. Traces of liquid fall all the way from his collarbones to the belt buckle of his trousers.  
The truly magnificent performance of a drunken, apologetic girl you gave at that moment, would ensure you the entry to the most prestigious acting schools. Your eyes widen comically, as you follow the trajectory of your drink. He barely flinches, as his entire front becomes covered in alcohol, but he does react, as soon as you start apologizing, a lot, your voice quivering as if you're about to burst out crying. 
Don't look up, you remind yourself, as your body moves closer to his. You pull down the sleeve of your shirt and reach towards him, trying to dry some of the liquor off his skin. For the split second you manage to make contact, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. He's incredibly warm, his skin pulled taut against prominent muscles. Then, your sleeve reaches the golden necklace.
His arm immediately shoots out, grabbing you by the wrist and nearly shoving you off. It was enough, though. That short moment of contact revealed more than you've bargained for.  
- Leave - you truly flinch at the sound of his gravely voice, no acting needed - You've embarrassed yourself quite enough, woman.
Your head nods fervently, hair jumping around your face. He releases your wrist, and you mutter another string of "I'm so sorry, sir". Then, you throw in a sniffle, for good measure, but your treacherous eyes drift upwards, desperate to catch a glimpse of the man's face, as you're only inches from him. Yellow envelops you in an instant, a piercing, unrelenting gaze, which breaks through all your defenses. Your gaze hardens in an instant, challenge rising in your posture like its second nature. One of the man's prominent eyebrows shoot upwards ever so slightly, and you know it's your time to exit the stage. 
So you bow your head again and slip past him as quickly, as you physically can. His golden gaze follows you, the feeling of his eyes at the back of your neck makes your shoulders tense. With a stumble, this one not rehearsed, you push past the gathered patrons, until you reach the doors to the restrooms, nearly falling through them, in your haste to remove yourself from this strange situation. 
Your body collides with the row of basins, as you lean forward to try and catch your breath. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, the sound of blood rushing through your ears deafening. It's fear, you're aware. You've never been so close to being exposed, no one has ever seen straight through you, and so quickly at that. Chills run the length of your spine with such force you physically cringe. 
And then, something else starts to brew in the pit of your stomach. Something that starts at the tips of your fingers, spreading upwards, until it settles in your chest. The magnetic pull of excitement, the danger of a new challenge. Your brain feels hot inside your skull, as you gather all the information you managed to pull out. 
The necklace is heavy, but strangely, not as heavy, as solid gold would be. The clasp is sturdy, but small. You could feel it, with how the strap tightened, when you pulled at it. And one more thing. As you tried to "dry" it, the body of the necklace shifted slightly, so you could see the clasp peeking over the man's shoulder. You were almost entirely sure it was one of those old-timey ones. The one, where two halves fit together, incredibly easy to open. 
God, you really are going to pull this off. You hype yourself up, in front of the mirror, jumping from leg to leg, like a sportsman ready to fight for their team. Easy. Quiet. In and out. You've done it a thousand times, why would this one be different? After this rather pathetic pep talk, you make up your mind. Splashing some water onto your face, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, determination filling your eyes to the brim. 
And then, you're out, the door to the bathroom swings behind you, as you easily blend into the crowd of rowdy patrons. He's almost impossible to miss amongst the ruckus, with his straight posture and that damned hat. There is a plan forming in your head, as you stalk towards him. The unfortunate waiter, with a tray filled with tall beer glasses walks towards you, and with ease, you slide your leg to the side, making him trip right onto the floor. 
It creates enough of a distraction for you to smoothly move behind your target, and as he looks over at the screaming crowd, you hand makes its way behind the collar of his coat. With the warmth of his skin just under your fingertips, you touch the clasp of the necklace. It unravels immediately, sliding off of his neck, where, just out of his vision, your other hand waits. The cross lands in your palm just as the man realizes what is happening.
His entire body jerks in your direction, large hands immediately flying towards the gigantic sword on his back. Thankfully, you're faster. Fingers squeeze around the smaller cross, and suddenly all pretense is gone, as you bolt back to the restrooms. You don't stop to check if the man is pursuing you, a flurry of emotions chasing you out of the establishment. Excitement, yes, of course, but mostly impossible to explain fear. In that moment you know, you can't get caught if you want your life to continue. 
So, you barrel through the doors to the restroom and immediately jump onto one of the basins. Your hands make quick work opening the small window just below the ceiling, its lock coming undone under the prying of your lockpick. Night air floods the bathroom with the crisp smell of the harbour. Putting all your concentration into athletics, you jump through the small opening, squeezing through. Your shirt catches onto the lock and tears with the force of your body. You land on your face, right into the cobbled street below.  Only then do you risk taking the time, and looking around, eyes scanning the dark, as your breath quickens. 
Nothing. A dog is barking somewhere, and even from the outside you can hear the sounds of the patrons screaming over each other. For a split second you wonder, if one of the voices belongs to your target, but decide against it. He didn't seem the type to raise his voice. Perhaps that was one of the things, which unsettled you about him. 
Tossing the necklace a couple of times in your hand, you observe as the gold shines in the light coming from the lanterns strung out around the city. There, right under the lower half of the cross, you could see a tiny groove. As if it was meant to be unscrewed or something of the sort. Deciding against hanging around in the ark alley right outside the bar, you put the necklace around your neck.
You manage to take about five steps, before some force grabs onto the back of your shirt. A hand twists itself into the torn material, and yanks you back so fast, and so hard, you completely loose balance. The brick wall of the lower part of the bar greets you with sharp pain, the impact knocking the wind out of your lungs. Stars swim in front of your eyes and your stomach twists and turns, as a sudden wave of nausea overcomes you. 
Then, all you see is yellow. 
He's here, arm pressed right under your chin with unwavering strength, his golden eyes bearing into you, watching you struggle against him. The smell of smoke, seawater and wine engulfs you whole, and suddenly the weight of the stolen necklace on your chest becomes unbearable. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. If you thought you were scared of the strange man before, now you're downright terrified. 
- Not many people would dare to steal from me - his voice is steady, almost bored, but your ears pick up on the subtle tone of curiosity - Let alone do so successfully.
Perhaps it's the alcohol in your system, or perhaps your ego has grown much too big, but you almost feel as if the man is impressed. 
- Tell me, what is your name? - his arm digs a bit further into your skin before retracting ever so slightly, not enough to choke you, but enough to remind you, that he could do so very easily. 
Your tongue darts out to wet you lips, and you will yourself to sound even a fraction less scared than you truly felt.
- I'm nobody - you whisper fervently - I'm nothing. It was a stupid joke, I'm so sorry.
His eyes scan your face, taking in your disheveled hair, the way your eyebrows scrunch together, the way your lips tremble. His gaze slides further down to your panicked pulse running rampant, catching slightly at your heaving chest, before snapping back up. Freezing chills run up and down your body, and your legs kick out slightly, trying to find better footing, to regain some control over the situation. He gives you no such chance, as his arm pushes your neck further into the wall, and as your breath leaves you, your body starts to struggle. 
- Nobody. Nothing. And yet you've managed to steal from me - something akin to subdued mirth flashes in his golden irises - If only for a moment. 
His other hand rises and your heart stops in your chest, as you feel the tips of his fingers tracing the line of the necklace, from the juncture between your neck and your arm, sliding lower. There is no mistaking the small gasp leaving your lips, when he reaches the heavy cross nestled right on top of your breasts. He taps the goden piece once, twice, before grasping it firmly and giving it a hard yank. The clasp at the back digs painfully into your skin before it gives out, snapping and falling right into his hand. 
- You're a curious little thief - his voice lowers, as he inclines his head to look at you closer - For that reason, I'll let you live, this one time. The world needs some chaos, after all.  
You expect him to move away, give you space to breathe and disapear into the night. Yet, none of you make a move. Your body stays pinned to the wall, the bricks spreading cold throughout your back. He never retreats, standing firmly in his place, as his arm still presses itself into the crook of your neck. Finally, you risk enough to get a good look at him, from the silky black hair, the perfectly trimmed facial hair and the elegant dip of his collar bones. And, oh, his pupils are dilated. For the first time, you discover a change in his unrelenting gaze. 
The gold retracts, giving way to the swallowing blackness of his pupil, as his eyebrows furrow in confusion at the situation at hand. You'd be confused too, if you didn't feel the tell-tale buzzing forming in your guts, low in your stomach. Your tongue darts out again, wetting your lips, and with undeniable satisfaction you watch his gaze flicker downwards. 
- Is there something else you want? - his eyes snap back up at the husky tone of your voice, and you give him just a tiny ghost of a smirk.
He recoils immediately, albeit, never taking the arm off of your body.
- I am not some teenage boy who can't control his urges - he sounds almost offended, as he straightens himself, and fixes you with a stern glare. 
Too bad. His previous slip-up has already filled your head with devious ideas, which in turn, sparked a sudden flame of confidence. So, with a self-assured smile, you lean back, finally finding your footing, only to raise one of your legs, purposefully running your calf the length of his thigh. His breath hitches ever so slightly, evident more by the movement of his Adam's apple, than any sound. Then, you reach your prize, your knee knocking into something that could only be described as a sizeable erection.
- My research says otherwise, sir. - you counter with a pointed look, and the man before you freezes in his spot. 
Time seems to slow down and stretch like taffy, as the man continues to stare at you, thoughts running through his head. Oh, how much you'd give to know them all. Will he kill you, you wonder as your eyes dart around the small creases forming on his forehead. Will he kiss you, his lips are parted and invitingly plush. Will there be more, your eyes follow the lines of muscles exposed under his unbuttoned coat. 
At first you don't even notice, when he had taken his arm back. That is until you feel him take a firm grab of the back of your head, gathering the roots of your hair in his grasp. There is no denying the choked whine that escapes you, as he cranes your head back, nor is there a point denying the groan he gives out at your reaction. 
An unspoken understanding blooms between the two of you, both of you suddenly knowing exactly how this encounter will end. For your part, you were more than excited, breathing heavily, as your mind became foggy from the feeling of his fingers in your hair. And if his darkened eyes and slight blush dusting the highest points of his cheekbones were any indication, you seemed to have similar effect on the man. 
- For all the research you seem to be doing - your brain feels hot and heavy in your skull, as you try to shift your focus onto his words, and not the way his lips curled into something akin of a smirk - There's one thing you didn't bother to check, did you?
All you can do is stare at him blankly. his other hand starts to toy with the necklace, turning it in his palm. 
- Have you checked, if my necklace is made of gold? - he asks matter-of-factly, tilting his head to the side. 
Your mouth opens and closes, no words coming out, as you continue to stare with growing confusion. Then, a glint of a golden cross catches your attention, as the man moves it higher for you to see. 
- Did you check it? - he accentuates his words, and you shiver under his intense gaze.
You shake your head no, and your neck feels as if it's made of lead.
- Use your words, thief.
- No
You don't recognize your voice, so meek and small. 
Then, all thoughts leave your head, because he lifts the lover tip of the cross and places it on top of your lower lip, pressing slightly, and watching with fascination as the cold metal creates a small indent in the plush flesh. 
- Check it.
Again, your brain seems to be moving in slow motion, but when it catches on, a glint of mischief swirls in your eyes. You open your mouth, let the necklace land on your lower teeth, and then, craning your neck, you bite down, like a good thief that you are. 
It's gold alright. Albeit, the part currently between your teeth seems to be hollowed out. Your brows knit for a second, as this new information registers in your mind. So you were right before, the small indent is meant to separate one piece of the necklace from the other. 
With a slowly blooming smirk, you let your tongue dart out swirling over the metal. The man's eyes widen ever so slightly, and he pulls back at the necklace. With some fight, you let it go, but not before giving it another lick, this one much more suggestive and pointed. 
- You're a devil of a woman - Mihawk breathes, before untangling his other hand from your hair. 
Both hands now, he grips the necklace, and your mouth runs dry at the sight of his fingers smearing your saliva onto the metal. And then he pulls. Your heartbeat momentarily quickens, as your eyes register another form of metal glistening in the dim light. 
A knife. Small but incredibly sharp, your body starts to shiver but it's not out of fear. He drops the other part of the necklace into his pocket, and gathers the front of your shirt into a tight grip. Your breath hitches, as you feel the tip of the knife slide up under your clothes. It scratches a path from your navel, up to your collarbones, and as the material bunches, the man suddenly yanks the blade upwards. Your entire body jumps from the wall, and your squeak of surprise is accompanied by the loud tearing of your shirt's material. 
You fall back against the bricks, and Mihawk leans onto his heels as if he's appreciating an art piece.
- Now we match - you manage to breathe out.
He humms, deep in his chest, and as suddenly as he just tore your clothes off, he dives towards you, open mouth landing right between your breasts.
The moan he wretches from you would be embarrassing if you could only bring yourself to care. But you can't, not when his hot tongue traces patterns all across your stomach, stopping to swirl around each one of your nipples. Like a man starved, he drinks you in, hands pushing and pulling against your hips in a rythmn, that feels more and more like a promise of what's to come. 
Your hands flail at your sides, desperate to find any sort of purchase. Fingernails scarpe against the bricked wall, as Mihawk's stubble tickles a path from your collar bones and up your throat, stopping for a moment, to give a few nips to the skin just below your ear. Another whine is wrenched from you, as the man places an open mouthed kiss to the scrape your previous encounter with the surface of the table has left on your skin. Then, finally, he pulls back for just a moment, drinking in the sight of your heaving chest and the redness which has engulfed your entire face.
- Beautiful - he concludes in the same, steady tone, as if he's stating an obvious fact, not paying a compliment.
It works on you all the same, and with a gasp, you lurch forward, your lips forcefully colliding with his. The kiss is deep and filled with passion you're not sure you've ever felt in your entire life. As his mouth and tongue work the insides of yours, you feel him slide his hand from your hips to the front, fingers pulling with urgency at the laces of your breeches. You can only pray, that there's no one taking a midnight stroll through the streets, as another loud moan escapes you. He does his best to swallow it, but something tells you he takes immense pride in the reactions you give him, as his efforts at keeping you quiet are haphazard at best.
Then, after finally winning the battle with your lacing, his hand pushes itself into your undergarments. Your head smacks back against the wall, when he begins to touch you where you need him the most. Expert fingers find your bundle of nerves in an instant, but before you get too carried away, one of your arms encircles his wrist.
Mihawk tilts his head, an unspoken question clear in his golden gaze.
- No time - you pant out, and for a moment worry, he doesn't quite register your words, with the way his focus shifts immediately to your swollen lips - No time, just... Just fuck me, Mihawk.
That seems to reach him just fine, because as soon as the words leave you, his arms shoot out towards his pants. He makes quick work of the massive belt buckle, and with impatient hands yanks his erection out of his underwear. You'd lie, if you said the view didn't worry you just a little bit. But excitement was your drug of choice, and right now you felt as if you could explode at any given moment. With shaky hands, you try to shimmy out of your pants. Seeing your rather clumsy efforts, Mihawk stops you. 
With half-lidded eyes you watch him kneel down in front of you, gently pulling your breeches down, before lifting each of your feet, so you could step out of them. 
- I think I like seeing you like this - you comment, as he leans forward to kiss the space under your right knee. 
- The view from here is also quite spectacular - he counters, kissing up your thigh and making you gasp, as his stubble presses into the mound of flesh just below your stomach. 
Still, there is no time, so you reach down towards his shoulder, and pull him up. 
- Please - you whisper against his lips, and who is he, to deny a lady in need. 
Lifting one of your legs in a tight grip, finally, his hips snap up, filling you to the brim. Your muscles tense, as you try to accommodate his size. To his credit, he stays still, face pressed into the crook of your neck, where you can feel his strained breath. Finally, you let yourself relax. tapping him on the shoulder, to let him know he can continue. 
And continue he does, slowly at first, dragging your body from the wall every time he retracts, only to come back in with an agonizing pace. You don't really know who's more frustrated at that point, because as soon, as you try to wriggle your hips more, to force him to pick up the pace, all resolve seems to dissapear. His hand grips your thigh even harder, enough to leave a reminder for the later days. The other tangles itself into your hair, pulling at the strands. And then he truly puts in work, hips snapping in a punishing pace that makes your back scrape against the brick wall. You hide your face in his coat, inhaling his scent and praying that the thick material will be sufficient at muffling your moans of pleasure. 
There's pressure, building steadily in your guts, and it doesn't take you long, to feel the band snap somewhere deep inside you. Your muscles tense and your eyes roll back, as you begin to shudder in his grasp, knees giving out completely, so only his own strength is saving you from colliding with the floor. Soon, he follows with a low grunt, nearly toppling over, when his own release hits him. 
His arm holds you close to him, as he uses the other one to steady himself against the wall. Both of you are panting heavily, none of you ready to move just yet. You rest your cheek against his chest, and feel him press his face to the top of your head, inhaling your scent as if this wasn't just a quick dalliance in a dark alley. 
- You should get back to your friend - Mihawk's voice is muffled by your hair - They must be dreading all the atrocities I could've bestowed upon you.
You laugh breathlessly, finally pushing him back and appreciating the flush on his cheeks, and the way his hair has flown out of place from under that impressive hat.
- Yes, those atrocities have been very great indeed. 
***
Your friend sits alone at the same table you've left them. Their head is hidden in their hands, and three empty bottles litter the space before them. It seems they have already started to mourn your untimely death. 
The inside of the bar has quieted down, as the closing hours began to loom over the patrons, a few stragglers still hanging around the bar, sowly finishing their respective drinks. 
Unceremoniously, you sit down right in front of your friend, wincing ever so slightly at the discomfort still lingering in your muscles, kicking their leg under the table and watching them nearly jump out of their seat with fright. 
- You... - their eyes have a difficulty focusing on your face, but when they do, it's like the heavens have opened before them. - You're alive!
Your eyes are glowing, and your face is still blushed from your previous encounter. You lean forward with a brilliant smile, hands slapping onto the wooden table.
- So - you can't help but laugh - About fucking with him...
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redo-rewind-if · 2 months
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You're dead. Or, at least, you should be. You remember what it felt when the bullet pierced your chest, the blood rushing out too fast, too much to stop. The man in red smirking above you. And yet, here you are. Alive. Safe in bed. One week before the day of your death.
Redo; Rewind is a story about time. Of an ordinary person working an ordinary office job. Sure, you might work for an info broker and, sure, you sometimes (often) commit acts of corporate espionage for said job, but that's just business.
This is something far beyond that ordinary life.
Time travel. It seems you of all people are capable of it. To manipulate time and bend it to your will. It may not be something you asked for, but you need it now more than ever.
Someone wants you dead. And they've already succeeded once. You can't allow it to happen again.
(Please note that Redo; Rewind is currently rated 18+ for depictions of violence/death, references to drug and alcohol use, explicit language, and heavy themes.)
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Play as a customizable MC! Choose your MC’s appearance, gender, skills, and more!
Romance, befriend, or antagonize any of the 3 romance options.
Learn how to master your time control ability and use it to your advantage.
Avoid past mistakes and inadvertently come up with new, much worse ones!
Try not to die. Again. And again. And again...
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Victor/Victoria Zhang [M/F] - Your boss and owner of VZSystems, the front for their true work as an info broker. Clever, professional, and cold—a classic business major. That's how they appear, anyway. Having worked for them for sometime now, you know that, despite their intimidating appearance, they hide a much softer side underneath. Will you maintain the status quo as employer and employee, or will you cross the boundary set by your positions?
August Astaire [M] - Hitman, assassin, whatever you want to call him, the man's a killer. That much is clear after he put a bullet through your chest. But is that all there is to him? As arrogant and cruel as he seems, you can't help but wonder if there isn't more to him than meets the eye. Maybe if you play your cards right you could even turn an enemy into an ally. But, even if he plays for your team, how much can you really trust him?
Amara Ingram [F] - Your coworker of about two months now. You don't know her well yet, but she seems genuinely kind, with a good sense of humor and a sharp mind. Since being hired, she's quickly earned her place, proving to be an invaluable asset with her skill in engineering and programing. Undoubtedly, someone you're glad is on your side, but could your feelings for her extend beyond the professional?
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[Demo] - Available Here! (Last update: March 23rd 2024)
[ROs] - Additional Details Here!
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evertidings · 27 days
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— MARCH 2024.
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accomplishments.
erm. hi. it's been a while, i know. i skipped last month's update, so i'll give you a lengthy one for march. truth be told, i haven't been able to touch when twilight strikes for a while. this is not because i don't want to, but mostly because i've been busy with school and/or have been struggling with writer's block. because of this, i made the decision to scrap what i had written for chapter eleven and start (kinda) from scratch. now, before you go and panic, let me explain.
the reason i've been taking so long on this chapter is that, well, i screwed up. i found a (rather large) plot hole that i've been trying to fix, and the solution i came up with was, uh, interesting. definitely not my greatest idea. but because i had already written so much, i kept pushing forward, hoping that things would straighten out and i'd miraculously like the chapter by the time i finished. haha, very funny. as you can tell, that didn't end up happening. i didn't particularly hate what i wrote, i could just tell that it was absolute bullshit. and while sometimes that works, it just was not doing it for me here. so i cut it.
i was able, however, to save a bunch of it for the new draft, so i didn't completely start over, but i am definitely down a lot of words compared to what i had written initially. i'm not super bummed out about it, but i am upset that that means i'm again behind on getting this out to you. i know it's been a while since i've published any updates and hearing that i've pushed things back is probably not very fun, but i promise, now that i've got my plot hole sorted out, things are going much smoother.
i'm currently in the thick of final exams so i haven't been able to write as much as i've wanted to lately, but the good news is that i'm graduating (WOOOOO!) so i won't have any more school work to distract me anymore. once mid-april hits, i'm free everybody.
(on that note, thank you for being so patient and sticking by me. i see new fans joining every day and it warms my heart that so many of you continue to enjoy this story. i appreciate you so much more than you know).
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anotherplumbob · 1 month
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Uberhood 2024 Update By AnotherPlumbob (CC free)
The Uberhood is an ongoing PROJECT where I’m creating a Cc-free savefile, with all the worlds and lore from The Sims 2 ported to The Sims 4. 
NOTE: In this update I've revamped PLEASANTVIEW only - if you were interested in the other worlds or premades, please note they remain exactly as they were in the previous versions.
It currently includes
1.- Remade Worlds
Pleasantview (Newcrest+Willow Creek)
Strangetown (Strangerville+Oasis Springs)
Veronaville (Windenburg)
Bluewater Promenade (Magnolia Promenade)
Three Lakes (Granite Falls)
Bluewater Bay [only partially built] (Brindleton Bay)
All the career lots (detective, hospital and science lab).
BEWARE: the rest of the worlds are either empty, half built or a mess in general.
2.- Families
The save includes all the premade families as well as the iconic townies that lived in those worlds in The Sims 2 times. They all have jobs, relationships, sentiments, lifestyles, reputations, etc. For Pleasantview sims only I've also included more lore in the form of milestones, added traits, midlife crisis, etc.
3. Required packs and How to Install (PLEASE READ)
THE SAVE IS CC-FREE BUT ALL EXPANSION, GAME PACKS,STUFF PACKS AND KITS RELEASED UP UNTIL MARCH 2024. 
If you don’t have all packs, sims may be half naked, and/or bald and stuff may be missing. Install at your own risk. 
In order to install:
BACK UP YOUR SAVES.
Download the the SAVE file.
Put the save in your SAVES folder.  Documents > Electronic Arts > Sims 4 > Saves. I changed the name of the file so that it will hopefully not overwrite any of your saves (including the previous v1). If your system prompts you to overwrite a save, do not click yes. Just change the name of the save (keep it 8 numbers but change the numbers) and try again.
Optional: Put the .package file (StrangetownTexts.package) in your mods folder. This file is used to change the Strangerville mystery a bit, and turn it into the Strangetown mystery (with custom texts, references to the Bella mystery, etc.). Please install it if you want to have some clues on what happened to Bella!! 
4. Play Order
There’s really no set play order but note that:
1.- Brandi Broke is pregnant and will give birth in 3 days regardless of who you play and regardless of whether aging is on or off, so play with her first if you want to be there for the birth.
2.- Same thing applies to Pascal Curious, who’s also pregnant at the start of the save.
5. Disclaimer and TOU
I’m just one person and there may be some bugs here or there, or naked sims or whatever. Feel free to report any bugs you find but I will only fix them if I consider them super relevant or game breaking, otherwise the save is provided as is and you install it at your own risk.
Also please don't waste your breath asking me to do X world, or add lore to Veronaville or Strangetown or whatever, because I will only do it if and when I'm inspired to do it - and the requests quite honestly stress me out.
THE TERMS OF USE ARE: Be nice and don’s steal others creations! 
Download: Sim File Share - Filehosting for Simmers
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azsazz · 2 months
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With Me
Eris x Rhysand's Sister!Reader
Summary: Anon Req: I know your request are closed but still writing. In the future could you do something with Eris x rhys sister?
Warnings: Graphic depictions of canon violence
Word Count: 1,520
_________________________________________
It had been on a wisp of an autumn breeze that Eris found out.
Found out about the plans of the High Lord of Spring, how he and his sons planned an ambush on the wife and daughter of the High Lord of Night on their travels to the Illyrian mountains for a visit with her son.
He had been on his horse, red as the leaves on the trees, scouting the borders between Autumn and Spring. The wind ruffled his hair and tickled his pointed ears with the whispers of scheming sons. Eris had stilled the mare beneath him and urged the current with a touch of magic to enhance the conversation.
That High Lord will pay for everything he’s tried to do to ours.
He won’t even know what’s coming. And neither will those little bitches.
Dibs on the older one.
It had eaten Eris throughout the day. Across the rest of his round on the border, during battle strategy, between sword fighting with his younger brothers. Lucien was learning quickly how to play his brothers against each other, and even scored a hit on Eris while his mind had been run through with worry.
He is a smart male but the thought of going to his father with this news didn’t feel right, but keeping it to himself felt even worse. So, after a family dinner that he loathed, Eris put on his emerald robes and marched into the Night Court territory.
He was too late. 
Eris caught the scent of your blood on a tornado of wind that carried the harrowing cries of you and your mothers downfall. You had been brutally attacked by the Spring Court sons and their father, and as Eris crept closer he saw blood coated flowers sprouting from the ground. The High Lord’s magic, a love note to the High Lord of Night.
A soft gurgle caught his attention as he stepped into the clearing washed in moonlight. The sight before him was harrowing; your carriage door ripped off its hinges, the windows blown out. Even the large, black steeds that had been pulling the wagon had been slaughtered, their entrails long lines in the white snow.
A wet cough, one with the whisper of death accompanying it drew his attention. Eris didn’t hesitate to locate you, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you curled beneath your slain mother, her arms still wrapped around you protectively. 
Your eyes were wide with fear, mouth gaping like a fish. Blood of both yours and your mothers surrounded you, leaking from your lips, from between the hands you had pressed weakly to your stomach.
Falling to his knees, Eris reached a hand out but halted when your eyes met his. His mind was reeling, a young warrior with little battlefield experience before a female struggling through her thinning breaths.
Something stirred deeply within him, something he knew but couldn’t say, wouldn’t admit out loud until years later. 
You had enough strength to shift your hand in the snow, reaching towards him, eyes screaming a plea for help from the handsome son of Autumn. 
And he did. He held your organs in his hands as he winnowed you from Night into his own territory, right into the hands of his mother. 
Amaretto stood with a start, the book in her hands falling loudly to the floor. There were no sounds in the room, not even the crackling of the fires raging in the hearths. She kept it this way so she could hear the sounds of her husband's footsteps when he walked down the marble halls of the Woodland House, each echo a shot to her confidence.
“Eris,” she gasps at her son, who looks over at her with wide, pleading, auburn eyes. She halts in her tracks, that look in his eyes, the sheer terror on his face. Her own eyes softened with a knowing look, and she uttered, “Oh, Eris.”
He and his mother worked in tandem all through the night. And when Beron’s footsteps began to sound down the hall Eris had been the one to distract him, goad him. He didn’t care about the bruises and pain inflicted by his father’s hand because it was nothing to the pain he could feel from you, through the thread of the bond that had appeared at the sight of you. 
His mother saved your life with the little trickle of healing magic she had left. Always hidden from Beron, but would use it to save her son’s mate’s life. Two gentle souls that deserved much better hands that you had been dealt in the world.
Eris stayed by your side when you had been moved to a guest room. You hadn’t woken for days and he couldn’t figure out a way to hide you from his father who would surely use you against the Night Court, who were mourning the news of their felled female family members.
Word had come of the slaying of the Spring Court High Lord and the two eldest sons, leaving young Tamlin to take his place. In the fray, the High Lord of Night had been murdered as well, with Rhysand taking the chair of rule.
It was all very confusing times. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“Eris,” you plead, tears staining your eyes. He can feel the cracking in your chest even though you’re trying to hide it from him. You’ve never been good at blocking your feelings from your loving mate, but the thought of returning home was all too much. Eris wasn’t understanding your fear, your need to go home to the Night Court after so long away, after Amarantha’s reign of terror has finally ended. “I need to see my brother.”
Eris had hidden you from the wretched female while he and all of the other citizens of the Autumn Court had been forced beneath the mountain. It had been a long, lonely fifty years of trying to find a way to get back to Velaris, to get inside of the barriers that had been protected with an extra boost of Rhysand’s power before he became trapped.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, hugging you closely. The both of you are laid up in his bed, days of reacquainting each other with the other’s body after so long away. Your mate had all but fallen apart in your arms, and you in his, the loneliness of your years spent wondering how your mate fared against the powerful female set to ruin your world. 
“Come with me,” you beg wetly, clutching to his clothes. He had winnowed right back into your arms as soon as he was able, and he hasn’t let you go since. You hadn’t wanted him to. “Let’s run away from Autumn, together.” 
Just like Lucien had done, chased away from the Court he knew as home while their awful brothers hunted him down. It had been another harrowing night for Eris, one you held him through. 
Only the knowledge that his brother was safe in the Spring Court had kept him from completely falling apart.
“I can’t just leave like this, fawn,” he answers wetly, stroking your hair back from your face. You’re as beautiful as the day you woke up, when your eyes landed on his and the bond made itself known to you. He has spent every day since thanking the Mother for this time with you, for sparing you that winter night, for keeping you safe when he was trapped under the mountain with no way out. “Not yet.”
Your voice breaks and hot tears stream down your face, throat tightening to the point where no words could break if you tried. You want Eris to come with you, you need Eris to come with you. You’ve only just gotten him back and it cannot be time to give him up already.
“It’s okay, fawn,” Eris consoles sadly. He will keep you in his arms tonight and tomorrow, up until he escorts you to your brother’s land and makes sure that you are safe with them. He has been a selfish male for so many years, falling headfirst into the mating bond. He’d fallen into you completely and without any remorse, the same way you had found yourself falling into him. “You need to do this. And I will be here, fighting for a better life for us until we can be together, freely.”
Eris and Amaretto had come up with an elaborate plan to tell the rest of the family. That Eris would hide you until you healed, and found his mate at the Autumnal Equinox balls. It would ensure your safety, being classed as a High Fae, but also being Eris’ mate. You had learned to deal with Beron and Eris’ insufferable brothers for years.
You love Eris with every fiber of your being, and the thought of parting with him so soon after getting him back tears your heart to shreds, but you need to go, especially after everything Eris had told you happened down there. 
“I love you, Eris.” 
“I love you too, fawn.”
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