Tumgik
#personally I would also be astonished
rogueolight · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
wakaba and juri friendship because i tignk it would be funny
308 notes · View notes
aeide-thea · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
06-07-23 Why Patagonia helped Samsung redesign the washing machine
Samsung is releasing a wash cycle and a new filter, which will dramatically shrink microfiber pollution.
Eight years ago, Patagonia started to study a little-known environmental problem: With every load of laundry, thousands (even millions) of microfibers, each less than 5 millimeters long, wash down the drain. Some are filtered out at water treatment plants, but others end up in the ocean, where fibers from synthetic fabric make up a surprisingly large amount of plastic pollution—35%, by one estimate. Fragments of your favorite sweatshirt might now be floating in the Arctic Ocean. In a collaboration that began two years ago, the company helped inspire Samsung to tackle the problem by rethinking its washing machines. Today, Samsung unveiled its solution: A new filter that can be added to existing washers and used along with a “Less Microfiber” cycle that Samsung also designed. The combination makes it possible to shrink microfiber pollution by as much as 98%.
[…] Patagonia’s team connected Samsung with Ocean Wise, a nonprofit that tests fiber shedding among its mission to protect and restore our oceans. Samsung shipped some of its machines to Ocean Wise’s lab in Vancouver, where researchers started to study how various parameters change the results. Cold water and less agitation helped—but both of those things can also make it harder to get clothing clean. “There are maybe two ways of increasing the performance of your washing machine,” says Moohyung Lee, executive vice president and head of R&D at Samsung, through an interpreter. “Number one is to use heated water. That will obviously increase your energy consumption, which is a problem. The second way to increase the performance of your washing machine is to basically create stronger friction between your clothes . . . and this friction and abrasion of the fibers is what results in the output of microplastics.” Samsung had already developed a technology called “EcoBubble” to improve the performance of cold-water cycles to help save energy, and it tweaked the technology to specifically tackle microfiber pollution. “It helps the detergent dissolve more easily in water so that it foams better, which means that you don’t need to heat up your water as much, and you don’t need as much mechanical friction, but you still have a high level of performance,” Lee says. The new “Less Microfiber” cycle, which anyone with a Samsung washer can download as an update for their machine, can reduce microfiber pollution by as much as 54%. To tackle the remainder, the company designed a filter that can be added to existing washers at the drain pipe, with pores tiny enough to capture fibers. They had to balance two conflicting needs: They wanted to make it as simple as possible to use, so consumers didn’t have to continually empty the filter, but it was also critical that the filter wouldn’t get clogged, potentially making water back up and the machine stop working. The final design compresses the microfibers, so it only has to be emptied once a month, and sends an alert via an app when it needs to be changed. Eventually, in theory, the fibers that are collected could potentially be recycled into new material rather than put in the trash. (Fittingly, the filter itself is also made from recycled plastic.) When OceanWise tested the cycle and filter together, they confirmed that it nearly eliminated microfiber pollution. Now, Samsung’s challenge is to get consumers to use it. The filter, which is designed to be easily installed on existing machines, is launching now in Korea and will launch in the U.S. and Europe later this year. The cost will vary by market, but will be around $150 in the U.S. The cycle, which began to roll out last year, can be automatically installed on WiFi-connected machines.
58 notes · View notes
honimello · 3 months
Text
oh i’ve about had it lol
VENT TW
i posted my fourth chapter of in the midnight hour on ao3 (5th chapter on ao3) and the first comment i get is just… so disheartening. it wasn’t necessarily mean but it wasn’t very constructive either, it was just sort of rude. obviously i fixed what they were upset about (i forgot to mention the readers pronouns in the summary) but i really don’t understand why they had to say it the way they did.
i can really understand what it’s like to read something that you really like and then be pulled out of it with wrong pronouns or a description of the reader, but you have no right to tell someone they’re wrong or bad or gross or evil for writing it. all you have to do is either ask politely for them to specify in the description/summary, or don’t say anything at all and just click off the post. you do not have to read something that you don’t like or makes you feel bad. (and the readers pronouns were being used right from the beginning of the story and the summary so i don’t know why it was a surprise for them)
the readers pronouns are mentioned within the summary itself, but since i had afab as a descriptor for the reader this person decided that i was co opting trans language. i am not cis. i have been using afab and amab as descriptors for readers for a very long time, as well as trying to specify pronouns as well. they told me to use fem reader instead or cis fem reader but that’s not always the case! what if i want a reader who uses she/her, is afab, but isn’t cis? like i don’t understand why that’s a wrong label in this context?
am i in the wrong here? like can someone actually tell me if i’m the asshole right now because i feel so bewildered
this just makes me feel so horrible. first thing i’ve written in over a month and i can’t even fucking do that right it seems. i’m so just horribly sad right now.
3 notes · View notes
iidsch · 4 months
Text
can you imagine if someone said that they are severely depressed and the only way to feel better is to hunt endangered animals for sport? like we would all agree that this person shouldn't do that just because it's the only thing that makes them happy and that maybe they should a. go to therapy and b. find something less harmful, right? well i just saw someone said they use ai art bcs they are disabled and cant draw anymore so-
0 notes
annieplush · 1 year
Text
ALSO it'll have been a year since i requested my aac device next month and i still don't even have a letter to say they have it or anything aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA
1 note · View note
celestemona · 2 months
Text
WHERE KAEDEHARA CLAN RISES UP ONCE AGAIN
a when they're dads au introduction
Tumblr media
pairing: dad & husband! kaedehara kazuha x fem! reader
cw: established relationship, you and kazuha are married and have children. original characters. domestic and parenting universe. quick pregnancy mention. slightly ooc to fit the plot. fluff and not beta read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
part i. | part ii.
Tumblr media
Considering that Kaedehara Kazuha’ only reputation was his mild personality and free spirit, no one believed that the wandering samurai would one day be able to pause his travels and settle down to a monotonous, homely life.
So you can imagine the surprise that’d be among the fishing and sailing communities throughout Teyvat when they discovered that the white-haired man had not settled down but also married and had children.
Surely it only could be a prank because, after all, was there even a possibility of that happening?
Well, this answer was given by a drunk and laughing Captain Beidou who showed to curious and shocked eyes a photo of his wedding held by the Crux fleet itself on a small and isolated island in Inazuma.
If the residents and locals didn't know her so well they might think the pirate captain was lying. However, looking at the photo closer, the way Kazuha looked at you while you smiled back at him confirmed the undeniable: the man was madly in love with you.
After that, with the help of a few barrels of rum and beer, the story of your love was shared. From you falling from the sky directly (and literally) into the samurai's arms, to the blossoming of your relationship; the ups and downs faced to the marriage proposal, and then the small family's decision to leave the seas to rebuild the Kaedehara Clan together.
Oh, well… Beidou may have let escape one more detail since dozens of wide eyes stared at her in astonishment at this information. However, she was pretty sure Kazuha wouldn't mind if she told them a little bit more about his new life as patriarch of the clan and his greatest prides. You, his wife, and your three children.
The samurai himself didn’t believe that one day he could be so fortunate and blessed to have the opportunity to return to a happy and noisy home. His days as a teenager left him with a deep scar in his heart since his relationship with his father, at first, wasn’t one of the best and therefore staying away from the place that was once his home was the best decision to be made.
Not only had the distance from Inazuma changed his perspective but also an insecurity had blossomed in the back of his mind where he feared that one day he’d make the same mistakes as his father.
Even so, after you entered his life, the only feeling he had when he set foot in the old estate was pure warmth and belonging. Love and serenity that not even his children, while yelling and playing around the mansion, could shake it.
Kiyomi, his middle and only daughter, was, most of the time, responsible for the laughter and noises in the house. Both you and your husband didn't know where she had inherited such an extroverted and mischievous personality, causing you to grow a few strands of gray hair and eliciting genuine laughs from Kazuha. There was no denying that the girl had a temperament as unique as her beauty, which was a mixture between yours and your husband's. And as the only girl in the family it was undeniable to say that Kazuha loved the ground she walked on. Nevertheless, neither you nor your husband would change anything about her, loving and being proud of your daughter the way she is  — because if there’s something prettier about Kiyomi was her heart as big as her stubbornness.
Clearly, the affection of the two parents wasn’t limited to just the girl but also extended to the two sons.
Kazumi is your firstborn son and only three years older than Kiyomi. With such a small age difference, some parents would expect there to be a certain amount of rivalry and jealousy between the siblings, but Kazumi was his father's son in both appearance and personality. With such a sneaky smile and a relaxed attitude, he was often mistaken for Kazuha himself — even sharing the same mindset of preferring to go with the flow rather than worry about small, insignificant things. This didn't apply to situations where you or his siblings were in danger, of course. After all, he took the title of older son and brother very seriously.
Shortly before his tenth birthday, Kazumi had learned and inherited the techniques of the Isshin Art which even took Kazuha himself an entire decade to re-learn. Unlike his ancestors, the current patriarch would teach his children the clan's secret technique so that the art would remain alive. Whether his children would dedicate themselves to it or not will depend on each of them.
Kiyomi didn't seem too interested, neither did Kazumi.
You, though, hoped that one of your children would carry the bladesmithing practices forward but you were also happy to see each of your children following their own path. If not even Haruki, your youngest son who was known to be as hungry for knowledge as any sage of Sumeru himself, seemed enchanted by this idea then ​​the Kaedehara Clan must expanding its businesses in other areas.
The youngest Kaedehara was the prodigy and the pride of the entire family. Your third pregnancy was a big surprise in the house but very well welcomed. Kazumi had just turned ten and Kiyomi was awaiting her seventh birthday when the fragile little Haruki arrived into the world on a autumn morning — although, the first few months that followed weren’t very pleasant as your baby's health was poor, leaving both you and Kazuha with your nerves always on edge.
However, with the help of your friends, the traveler, the Crux fleet, and even Yae Miko’s divine blessing, little by little Haruki managed to recover and finally grow up healthily.
Unlike his brothers who always seemed to be somewhere or running around, Haruki preferred to stay at home surrounded by the comfort of his parents' presence or his books. It took little time for you and Kazuha to realize that at a young age he was already reading advanced-level books and scrolls, and was interested in subjects that even adults would find boring. So it was also no surprise either when an invitation to study at Akademiya arrived at your home just before the boy's thirteenth birthday.
Needless to say there was a huge party before his departure to Sumeru where on one side there was you crying at the sudden departure of your son, Kazuha consoling you and a very happy Beidou getting all the guests drunk.
So, yes. If someone asked Kazuha about what he thought of this new life of his, he wouldn't lie when he answered them that it was a very different reality from the one he had projected years ago. There would always be something to worry about, his days were almost the same, rarely leaving the routine, and every now and then the desire to reach new horizons would always call him.
But in the end of the day, he wouldn't trade a second of his life by your side for his old one. Because, after all, he’s already living the biggest adventure of his life with you by his side, and if there’s something that Kazuha was sure of, it'd be that there’s nothing in the world so rewarding as having your company.
.
.
a/n: i must confess that i have this plot on my drafts for almost two years now but i’ve never found will enough on myself to sit down and write it. nevertheless, i’m thankful for my mind to remind me of this plot and make me re-write new ideas.
those who knows me, or not, must’ve know that i really do love parenting, domestic and pregnancy universe so not so often i caught myself writing about it. it’s so relaxing and enjoyable to picture these guys as dad idk.
i hope you’ve liked it so far. i would like to share more about this headcanon too in a possible future so let me know if you want to know something more about the kaedehara clan. thank you so much, bye!
665 notes · View notes
rae-writes · 1 year
Text
An Angel...
om demons x reader (+Simeon, Solomon)
wc : 1.k
warnings : simping bois, humor, some sprinkled suggestive comments
synopsis : a deviltok trend has the boys on their knees for you (though that’s nothing new)
a/n : this audio scratches an itch in my brain and I needed to do something with it
angel ver. 
Tumblr media
<Asmodeus> GUYS!!!  YOU HAVE TO WATCH THIS!!!! NOW!!!!! LIKE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!
[attachment sent]
Casually clicking on the video file, his interest peaked immediately when he saw you. Clad in your RAD uniform, you were positioned in frame a couple steps back. 
“Who are you?” 
He watched you slowly stalk forward with a smile on your face; it was both reassuring and off putting. Only someone like him would be able to notice. 
“An angel…”
You held out your hand towards the camera gently, as if beckoning someone closer. 
“What’s your name?”
The transition was fast— smooth. In an instant, your hand came up and grabbed the phone, like you were choking someone, causing the frame to shake. 
“Satan.”
Once the shaking transition stopped, with your hand still in its previous position, his mouth dropped. You had completely transformed yourself into what he assumed is your version of their demon form. 
Realistic black sheep horns protruded from your head, curling backwards around your ear and ending at your middle jaw. There were light purple extensions added here and there, blending with your hair perfectly. Your free hand had come up to splay over your malicious grin- showing off the fangs you’d added and the sharpness of your new nails. The outfit you wore was revealing- black with shiny accents and shiner jewelry - easily showing the intricate marks you’d drawn over the exposed skin. 
[8 people saved a video attachment] 
Lucifer
His stupidly handsome face forms the most obnoxious smug smirk imaginable 
Don’t get me wrong, he was absolutely flustered. On the inside. 
On the outside though, he radiated pride and smugness 
Like ‘yeah. That’s my Mc. mine. Eat it.’ 
Not that he would ever speak those words. Totally not
Was he also slightly bugged that Asmo seemed to be the only one who had access to this video? Sure. 
Was he gonna make sure his brothers, Diavolo, and Barbatos deleted this from everything they owned? Of course. 
But first, he’s gotta get you to dress up like that for him in person 
Mammon
Mans was astonished. Eyebrows had shot through the heavens, mouth was dropped down to sea floor level, cheeks were a blazing inferno— he was in awe 
First thought : ‘HELL YEAH, MC, YA LOOK HOT!’ 
Second thought : ‘WAIT HOLD UP, THE OTHERS ARE SEEIN THIS TOO-‘ 
Really though, Mammon is just so in awe at how gorgeous you looked 
especially in that gold he knows he bought you
Immediately takes a screenshot of you in that getup and makes it his home screen wallpaper
Then he texts you, begging demanding you dress up like that again because he wants to make videos with you in his demon form too!
I mean, if he doesn’t get to have his hands all over you and his mouth on you like that, how will anyone get the message you’re only for him?
Levi
Someone call the equivalent of 911 for the Devildom, Levi might just be coding 
Actually- don’t even worry about it, he’s just a big puddle on the floor! No worries! 
He. Is. FLUSTERED! Flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it really- 
Levi can't breathe, can’t talk, can’t even wave his hands around frantically to express his lost words
Irl version of a windows restart. 
But as soon as he does reboot, he’s doing his best impression of Oprah into his pillow with how high pitched he’s screaming 
Would love to take a picture with you in that outfit while he’s in his demon form or have you sit on him 
He’ll send you a bunch of emojis in show of his approval but his normal skin tone still isn’t visible under the blush for hours
Satan
Smug as fuck about the audio itself. Definitely silently bragging
Aside from that, Satan is absolutely willing to kneel for you in that outfit 
He’s studied with you on seductive speechcraft but this? He was not ready
Has to take a minute to get his bearings together and to wipe that blush off his face
Satan’s actually pretty speechless for a good 30 minutes 
Not that he’d let you know. He will, however, be telling you how fucking good you looked
Wants to ask if you’ll walk around town with him in his demon form too so everyone can see 
Power couple ™— Take that Lucifer 
Asmo
Azzy is on his knees in an instant- pliant and ready for you to fucking step all over him 
The moment he saw the video he was liking, favoriting, commenting, saving, sharing- everything 
He’d suggested something similar for you to do in the past but you just. 
You went light years beyond what he was expecting the outcome to be and he is here for it 
#1 supporter and immediately is coming up with different- sexier -outfits for you to wear
Will ask, beg if he has to, if you’d come have a photo shoot with him (surprisingly he mainly wants to take photos of just you) 
Admitting to anyone who listens that your beauty is absolutely on par with his 
On his way to your room right this instant- but only after he shares the video with the others 
Beel
Choked. 
You’d think he hadn’t ate in years with how much he was drooling but no
He was just looking at you in that outfit. Which he thought was amazing. 
You are easily the most delicious thing he’s ever laid eyes on (“Gorgeous too…”) and he can’t wait to tell you to your face 
Wonders if you’d have a tail or wings if you really did have a demon form 
Wants to ask Diavolo if there’s magic to make you a real, temporary demon form to find out
Please come to one of his Fangol games dressed like that. He’d promise to win for the rest of the season- and succeed
Overall flustered with his cute blush present, but unlike Satan or Levi, he doesn’t mind showing you 
Belphie
Two words : “holy. fuck.” or alternatively : “fuck. me.”
He is sprinting- yes, sprinting- throughout the fucking house and barreling straight through your door
On his knees faster than Asmo was and is ready at light speed to crawl at your feet and wrap his arms around your leg 
All of his usual curt expressions are thrown out the window without a care in the world
No pure thoughts behind those doe eyes. Not a single one. 
Convinces you to let him take a picture from underneath you while you’re choking him to put as his lock screen because he needed it
Will not be letting you go for the next 24 hours or longer
Fakes innocence like a pro when the others accuse him of hogging you to himself (“they are mine” he snips, even though you have the metaphorical leash right now)
Barbatos 
Mmmmmm, the silent simping is strong in this one
He was simultaneously so fucking ready and so very much not ready for that
Does not know what to do with himself for the next 2-7 business days
Had to put down shit he was cleaning multiple times before he broke something (because you actually broke him)
Straight up doesn’t even ask to show up in your room this time, he just does and immediately beelines to shove his face into your neck 
No, his ears are not red. I believe you might be color blind Mc…
Won’t outright admit how badly you affected him- he just lets out a small ‘you look lovely’ like yeah, Barb? Just lovely? 
Please wear this to the next formal event you attend to watch him lose his cool for split second intervals all night
Diavolo 
If he didn’t have millennia of training on composure, he’d been screaming as loud as Levi 
Instead he settles for slamming his hand on his desk like that meme Asmo showed him 
Concerning his butler a bit, but Diavolo is a proud simp- he ADMITS it
Please come sit on him. Let HIM sit on YOU, for all he cares
You look so good?? What the fuck?? Marry him?? (<<exact texts he sends you)
Tries to find ways to give you a real demon form before getting scolded
Volunteers whole heartedly to let Asmo take pictures of both of you while you’re dressed like that
Ring, ring, Lucifer, he’s coming over ASAP, don’t be alarmed when he shows up at the door
Bonus : 
Solomon
Fuck this man is so down bad for you
I mean, he knew that before but this is just something else, Mc, what have you done to him? 
Knows you’re still human but god does he crave having your pact mark seared into his body (it’s a guilty pleasure of his)
Maybe you’ll just create one and tattoo it on anyway
No second thoughts, teleports to your room immediately to yank you into a kiss
Door is locked- Solomon refuses to let the brothers snatch you away from him rn
Please get on top of him and show him how real your fake fangs and nails feel
Will actually beg without a fight
Simeon
Thinks he should not find this as attractive as he does but the heat flooding through his body disagrees
Gets so hot and flustered, it would be concerning if he wasn’t an actual angel 
Drinks a whole ass cup of water in less than 2 seconds 
Personification of ‘hold my mf halo’ as he makes his way to your place once he calms down a bit
Yes, he’ll take pictures with you with his wings on display and yes, he may or may not be into this (and if you start a little roleplay with him? He’s ascending.)
Don’t tease and make fun of him, he can’t help it! He’s not trying to blush- though he isn’t trying to hide it either
Lies through his teeth without hesitation when he gets questioned about the faint lines on his shoulders 
Heaven’s filthiest angel, on brand
3K notes · View notes
woewriting · 1 month
Text
𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘅𝗶𝗮 (𝗶) | 𝖼𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 & 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
you're dying to know what cairo's lips taste like.
tags. mdni! no pronouns used, kissing, slightly nsfw, sexual tension, a bit angst, not exactly a happy ending, sorry... | word count. 2295
part 1 . part 2 | masterlist
Tumblr media
Clearing your throat for the 5th time since class started, you tried to look away from the girl that stood in front of the class, paper in hands as she read the words written on it to everyone. The brown eyes would often travel around looking for any reactions that she would entice, from Mr. Miller, to her best-friend, to the rest of the students and finally landing on you. 
Cairo gave you a brief smile, but enough to make you blush. The heat wave taking over your body, making you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Sitting in the front row, that close to her, was not the best idea.
As the brunette finished presenting her paper, the professor motioned for her to return to her seat, right next to you. Also not a good idea, but she insisted and it wasn’t hard to comply with her wishes. You swallowed hard, eyes looking at your hands that rested on your lap, avoiding to look at her, being this closed never failed to agitate your heart, especially after her readings.
“So,” Cairo leaned closer, whispering in your ear with a sweet voice. “What did you think?”
“It was incredible, as well as everything you've ever written. You have a way with words that never fails to astonish me.”
The girl let out a small laugh. “Is ‘astonish’ your word of the day?”
“How did you guess?” You retorted in the same playful tone.
You finally looked at her. Big mistake, if you cared to admit to yourself.
Cairo was close, leaning into your personal space as she always did to test your reactions. Her eyes carried unspoken words that you wished she’d share with you the same way she does when working on her writing, but it never seemed to be something that would, eventually, come to reality. She had many things she wanted to share, unfortunately, none involved you.
Not directly, at least.
Feeling your throat dry at the sudden closeness, your eyes darted from hers, down to her lips where a small smile rested, knowing damn well the effect she had on you. 
“I can read you like a poem.” She whispered, pulling back to pay attention to the rest of the class.
It was a truthful statement, she can read you as if you were written by a high schooler, with shallow, badly used words that confuses everyone around, including you.
Sometimes it felt like she was interpreting you wrongly, in her own ways.
And that only made you more confused as to what was the feeling you felt when she was beside you. And what she felt for you.
Yet, you burn inside to hear her mind. 
The rest of the morning went by like the wind, occasionally blowing on your hair, threatening to rain every second. Like every other ordinary day. 
Cairo would spend time either writing or reading in her own world, completely focused on the words she would type on her laptop, stealing glances from you every now and then when Winnie’s laugh got her attention. You pretend not to feel the brown eyes burning your side profile, but the brunette always noticed the way you gulp and bite on your lower lip before returning her attention to her work. 
Only then you’d look at her. And it was as if the world was muted by whoever controls this reality, making everything disappear as you gazed at her face, from the messy fringe that covered her forehead to the light-colored dots that were spread on her skin, your favorite one being a small freckle on her lip that you wished to kiss away and steal it for you.
You were dying to know how she tastes, if it was bitter like the coffee she insists is better than any other sugary garbage you and Winnie chooses to drink, or if it was minty like the cigarettes that always rested in her hands. Maybe it tasted like cinnamon because of the gum she carries in her back pocket, or cherries since she loves to eat them when she’s alone at home.
Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Winnie Black and whatever was the subject she seemed excited to talk about, and all you could do was laugh when she did. 
Cairo noticed your behavior.
On your way through the trees, you trailed behind her, just admiring the way she would kneel whenever a new insect crossed her way. 
“Don’t you think they’re cute?” She asked with glowing eyes, looking hypnotized by the green praying-mantis in her hands. 
“It would be more interesting if they could kung-fu.” 
Cairo rolled her eyes at your joke, coming closer to you to lay the innocent animal in your own hands, a disgusted feature took over your face once you felt the tickles in your skin. 
“If they could kung-fu, you’d be dead by now.” She joked back, walking her way out of the woods that led to the old, empty mansion on the other side, leaving you behind unsure on what to do with the tiny creature in your hands. Luckily, it jumped off on its own as if it had noticed your discomfort. 
You laughed to yourself, following her once again.
The old place had slowly become your second house as you stayed there more than at your actual home. With Cairo’s parents out for most of the days on working trips, you’d find yourself more comfortable with the other’s presence as you both worked on your assignment in silence after class.
It was dark outside the window when you let out a sigh of relief, finally finished with your work. Looking over to Cairo, she still had the laptop on her lap, but little did you know she had finished her own homework way before you.
“Do you know what ‘basorexia’ means?” Her voice made you stare at her with a confused aura. You denied with your head, sitting back up on the chair you were in. Cairo took one last drag on the cigarette that rested between her fingers before putting it out on the small, porcelain plate on the nightstand by her bed. She walked to you at a slow, calculated pace until she was standing in front of you. “It means ‘the overwhelming desire to kiss someone’.” She explained, calmly placing herself on your lap.
“What are you doing?” You choked on your voice, trying to back yourself away from her, but her hands firmly on your shoulders and legs resting side by side with yours made you stay in place. 
“I want the truth.”
“What truth, Cairo?”
When the brunette leaned closer, you could smell the mint in her breath. Her fingers found the collar of your shirt, touching your neck with the tip of them.
“About what you want.” Her eyes were dark, pupils full blown at the feeling of you so tensed up under her touch. “I see the way you look at me, an overflowing desire that is almost drowning you in.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried to play off, but your voice failed you as you looked away from her, focusing on the vintage furniture that decorated her bedroom; everything looked so antique, matching perfectly with the personality of the girl stranding your lap. 
Cairo’s hand left your shoulder to lock your chin over her index finger as she made you look at her.
“You can lie to yourself as many times as you want, but you cannot lie to me.” Her thumb brushed softly on your lower lip and you had to stop yourself from sucking it into your mouth. “You think you’re doing a great job at hiding what’s in your head, but your body gives away your true intentions.”
“And how’s that?” The low, curious tone in your voice made the girl lean closer, brushing her lips against yours.
“Your eyes love to travel up and down my body, but they seem to have a strange obsession with my lips.” She licked on them, the tip of her tongue touching you. You closed your eyes for a mere second, but the small tilt on your chin made you open them again. “Your cheeks gain a pinkish tone whenever I lean closer to you and you stop breathing as if the air I let out is toxic. Your hands refuse to touch me out of fear I’ll burn under your touch.” The hand that wasn't holding you in place found yours that were glued to your sides, making them rest on her thigh. “So, I want you to tell me what’s going on inside your pretty little head.”
Cairo Sweet is objective, what she wants, she’ll have it. One way or another. And she had her own ways to justify the means.
Your brain tried to form a single sentence, but the words had left your vocabulary, all it had left was the new word you had just learned: basorexia. 
Was that what you felt in your chest? 
Once again, the girl proved to be ahead of you, knowing your true wishes. Reading you like an open book displayed on her desk among the others that she devours. 
You took one last deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before you let out all that’s been troubling you since you first met Cairo.
“I want to kiss you. But only once, I think.” The girl smiled, reaching out for your other hand so that now both rested on her thighs. “I just want to know what it’s like and I’ve spent enough time staring at your lips that I can’t bear the thought of never finding out.”
“What if I don’t want to kiss you?” 
“Then that makes us two liars instead of one.” Your voice was nothing but a lowly whisper, afraid to break that thick tension that surrounded the both of you like the smoke that Cairo blew out of her mouth.
Your hands moved up and down, never trespassing the fabric of her black skirt. You didn't want to abuse a boundary that you didn't know existed, but imagined. Everything about Cairo was a mystery, she spent more time hidden in the words of her books than actually expressing her wishes out loud, it was rare the times she felt comfortable saying them, and when she did, it felt like you were standing in the eye of the hurricane.
Her hands were heavy on your shoulder, slowly moving to tangle in your hair to pull your head back. You looked at her with half-opened eye lids and parted lips as she carefully analyzed you, deciding on what should be her next step. All she knew was that, after the first one, she couldn’t take two back.
Cairo fixed herself on your lap, holding back a heavy breath that threatened to escape her throat at the touch of your burning hands moving past her skirt. You wanted to grab the flesh and move her against you just to hear that sound again.
You watched with hypnotized eyes when she stopped smiling, hovering over you with open lips, her hot breath mixing with yours, but never closing the small gap between the two of you. She was unsure, hesitant, almost as if waiting for someone to push her off the edge of a cliff.
This time you took the first step, your hands held her waist and your torso moved against hers to capture her lips with your own, sucking on her bottom lip. Cairo kissed you with hunger, easily taking control of the situation with her hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you towards her as she pushed herself on you, not even air could go through you.
She tasted divine on your tongue, even more than you could ever dream of, and the sounds that were escaping from her parted lips whenever you tilted your head for a different fitting filled your ears and soon became your favorite sound. When she moaned against your mouth, feeling your nails dig the skin of her waist, you went to heaven and back, your body heating up as if hell embraced you in a tight hug. 
Moving one of her hands from your face, the brunette guided yours up, squeezing her breast with a small smile while kissing you before leading it down her body once more. 
She was hot against your fingers and it was easy for you to slide them against her slit at a torturous pace. Cairo held your hand steady, deciding to move her hips against you, whining on your lips with eyes closed. Short nails digging at the nape of your neck, a bearable burning on the spot. 
Trailing your kisses down her neck, you licked on her pulse point, earning yourself a hoarse moan before she pulled back from you, standing up before she reached the ‘no return’ point.
You nearly screamed at the sudden abruption, following behind her. As your arms were to wrap around her waist, she pushed you down back on the chair with a firm hand on your chest. You stared at her, frustrated and bothered, and she didn’t seem so different from you. Swollen lips, dark eyes and heavy breathing, her shoulders fastly moving up and down. Once again, you were confused with her actions.
The awkward silence that filled the bedroom was loud, screaming inside of your head. You wanted to slap that expression on her face, the one that looked at you with a tensed jawline. Instead, you just got up and took the jacket that rested on the chair’s arm, hearing the flick of her lighter before you closed the door and walked down the stairs, a burning feeling on your chest.
565 notes · View notes
wttcsms · 7 months
Text
balancing act ; satoru gojo.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing satoru gojo x f!reader   word count 3.9k   synopsis gojo bets that he can get you to fall in love in three months, and you bet that he can't go three months with staying committed to one person and not bang them. neither of you plan on losing. content contains modern no curses!au, mentions of sex and vulgar language (but no smut yet), simp gojo <3 author’s notes i plan on wrapping things up quickly this time around, so i have five parts planned for this mini series!
Tumblr media
Satoru Gojo is used to a wide array of reactions to any of his antics: awe (the summer analyst, Miwa, always stares at him like he himself is the one who created the stock market), irritation (Nanami is rarely ever in agreement with the comments Gojo leaves on his work), lust (Gojo gives just as much he receives because he’s benevolent like that — his words, of course). 
But he’s not quite used to being laughed at. 
He’s handsome, and he knows it, a deadly combination for any man because Shoko claims that all men are born with an astonishing amount of audacity and it only ever grows as they get older. Satoru brings up the fact that Shoko technically cheated her way through med school, and that any doctor worth her degree wouldn’t get onto patients while lighting up a cigarette of all things, but Shoko is equally stubborn and audacious as any man, and it just makes her a worthy opponent to get into arguments with. 
Being attractive and arrogant isn’t enough to keep him from suffering mild humiliation from time to time, though. The reason why Satoru doesn’t get embarrassed is because the world is unfair, so he happens to be born rich and smart enough and talented enough to just keep on getting richer. Even he is entirely aware of his privilege, but he’s got the type of personality that would be endearing even if he wasn’t hot, so everyone loves him. 
And you don’t hate him, he knows that. He also knows that you don’t love him, which is fine, because it’s not your love, or awe, or irritation, or lust (okay, maybe some lust would be nice) that Satoru wants from you. He just wants you for you, your honesty and whatever scraps of yourself that you toss to him. 
Today’s scraps are your laughter, which rings through the whole entire office, singing above the noisy clacks of keys being smashed by the analysts and the whirring of the printer shooting out hundreds of pages a minute. He feels a warmth spread from his stomach to his chest and maybe it even rises up to his neck, he’s not so sure. He should feel slightly embarrassed, he thinks, to have said something seriously only for you to find comedy in it, but he doesn’t. He just feels pleased with himself for making you laugh, like he’s done something great.
“You are so full of shit, Gojo.” You’re still smiling, even though you’re not bothering to look at him anymore. Your attention is now focused on the report one of the analysts has turned into you, and from the lack of comments you’re leaving, he assumes it’s Megumi’s work. 
“I was being serious, y’know.” Satoru’s more than tall enough to see over the cubicles, especially when he’s standing up, and he leans over it, his head and upper body leaning into your personal desk space. The cubicles don’t do jack shit for privacy, anyway, so he doesn’t feel bad when you complain that he’s invading your privacy. If it was privacy that you craved, you wouldn’t have three monitors raised, each of them displaying a jumble of numbers and words that Satoru doesn’t care about. 
“So was I.” You tell him.
Just thirty minutes ago, you walked into the office with a quad shot espresso, unceremoniously plopped your Longchamp tote onto the floor, and dramatically sighed to get your desk neighbor’s attention. Utahime is always a good sport when it comes to your antics but doesn’t bother extending the same courtesy to Satoru, which he considers to be very unfair considering that he’s technically everyone’s boss. It is his name that’s displayed on the side of the building, and his private equity firm that he’s built up alongside Suguru. 
“What happened this time?” Utahime asks you, like the good sport she is. Satoru, at that time, was pretending not to eavesdrop even though he is, because he’s a nosy bastard. 
“I hate men.” You say, leaning back in your chair. “He left me for someone nice.”
The way you say it lets him — and Utahime, who is actually the person you’re talking to — know that that nice was a direct quote from your ex.
Utahime furrows her brows, looking confused. “But you are nice.” 
Debatable, is what Satoru wants to say, but he’s remaining silent so he can get the full story out of you first.
“No. I’m a workaholic with no personality outside of my fancy finance job.” 
Ouch. 
Satoru doesn’t see an issue with you, though. So what, you’re hardworking and focused? He thinks it’s kinda hot to see someone with so much ambition and discipline. He wouldn’t have hired you if you were anything less. 
“He’s just insecure.” Utahime says, soft voice trying to soothe you, even though Satoru hears the familiar sound of your manicure typing in your login details to your computer. He knows it’s silly to think he can tell the difference between your typing and anyone else’s, and he doesn’t want to think too hard about what that could possibly mean when it comes to defining his feelings for you.
“You said the same thing about my last three exes, and they all said similar things about me.” Satoru can’t see either of you from this angle, but he’s certain that you’re opening up your emails right about now. The conversation is coming to a close, and he needs to start focusing on his own tasks, but then you say something interesting, practically baiting him to come out of his office.
“I’ve decided that from this point forward, I am swearing off men.” 
Utahime laughs. “You can’t just swear off all men because of a few bad ones.”
“Not forever.” You clarify. “Just for the time being. All the men I’ve dealt with  in Tokyo suck.”
On paper, all your exes are fantastic catches. There’s the surgeon (who found you to be too independent), the professor (who thought you were too busy to give him the attention he needed), the hedge fund associate (who thought that he liked smart girls, but apparently, not ones smarter than him), and your newest ex, the investment banker. The irony isn’t lost on anyone — an investment banker criticizing someone for being a workaholic obsessed with the prestige of their finance career? If he was going to scramble for an excuse to want to see other people, he should have chosen some other cliche line instead of using the same one someone else must have said to him. 
“What’s this about men in Tokyo?” Satoru strolls up to the divider between you and Utahime, hands in his pockets, pretending that he hasn’t been listening to the entirety of your conversation from the very beginning.
“That all of them suck.” You say, with that unwavering confidence he likes. 
“I’m a man in Tokyo.” He’s grinning.
“Yeah. I stand by what I said.” You’re not even being courteous enough to look at him, still focused on whatever email is on your screen.
His grin only grows wider.
“Maybe all the men you’ve been with are subpar, but I bet I could change your mind.” 
“Is this even appropriate for work?” Utahime interjects. 
“If it’ll make my dear employee Utahime happy, I can grab someone from HR to supervise this conversation.” Satoru says.
“It’s a trap.” You tell her, lips curling up in a smile that lets him know you’re going to say something very mean and probably true about him. “He’s already broken protocol with everyone who works there.” 
“You’re very disrespectful to your boss. Anyone else would have fired you on the spot.” Satoru only pretends to be wounded by your comments, but everyone knows that he’s as good at taking it as he is at dishing it out. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that Satoru owns this firm because he’s not very good at professionalism himself. 
Utahime mutters something under her breath, deciding not to engage further in whatever it is the two of you are doing.
“So, whaddya say? Wanna test out your ‘all men in Tokyo suck’ theory with me?” He knows this teasing won’t go anywhere, even if he wants it to. You’re good at your job, and you’re good at being a professional. Somehow, he doesn’t think you would consider fucking your boss as something very professional. 
“I would, but I have standards.” 
Satoru wants to make a snide comment about all the guys who have dumped you, but he can’t, because it’s already been established that they’re not just decent by regular standards, but stellar. Rich, successful, well educated men who could probably make you cum. 
Well, Satoru is richer, more successful, and more educated than all of them combined, he thinks. And he would gladly make you cum like crazy, if you let him. 
“C’mon, what’s wrong with me?” 
“Promise I won’t get fired if I’m being honest?” You turn your desk chair, looking up at him with mock doe eyes, and the sight shouldn’t be both endearing and hot to him, but it is. 
“Give me your worst.” He tells you, both of you smiling at the challenge. 
“I don’t give anything of myself to a man who can’t even bother to commit to anyone.” 
Of course, you have a point. Satoru’s not known for dating anyone. He takes women out on extravagant dates, yes, but he doesn’t actually practice the act of dating. 
He doesn’t see a point to it. Most people, save for his friends (a bit weird to consider some of his closest companions are actually his employees), see beyond his shiny veneer, and dating would just complicate things. Dating means someone seeing the duller, not-so-great parts of himself.  
“I could commit if it’s you.” 
The way he says it, without that familiar teasing lilt of his, makes you burst out laughing. He really is trying to commit… to the bit, that is. For a moment, Satoru almost tricks you into thinking he’s serious. 
“You are so full of shit, Gojo.”
You’re focused on your work, not the momentary hurt look that disappears from his face as quickly as it came. 
“Don’t be such a pessimist.” He tells you. “I bet I could make you believe in love again.” 
“Who said I didn’t believe in love?” You frown at that. “I just don’t believe that the men in this city are capable of it.” 
“Bonus season is upon us.” Satoru says, suddenly having a bright idea. He’s so rich that his wealth seems to be an extension of himself, and like all other parts of his body and mind, he uses it to his advantage. 
“Ugh, don’t tell me this conversation is going to affect my bonus check. I really will go to HR, then.” 
“I’ll double your bonus pay if you let me court you for three months.”
“Court me?” You’re laughing at him again. He eats it up, savors it, lets it settle on his tongue and warm his insides. 
“If you’re so convinced I’d be horrible and only prove you right, wouldn’t you jump at the chance to make some easy money?” 
He’s trying to bait you into accepting; you know it. You also know that nothing from Gojo comes easy. He makes it entirely too convenient to forget that he’s razor sharp and cutthroat, the things he needs to be in order to remain on top of the finance scene, but he’s always joking, always teasing, that it feels like he almost doesn’t like being taken seriously. 
“Like I said, I don’t deal with men with commitment issues.”
There was a brief moment in time where you considered going out with Gojo. The two of you have always been rotating in the same social circles, way back to your high school and university days. You don’t shame him for having casual sex because Gojo is genuinely sweet when he wants to be, and you know that everyone he’s ever fucked has done so more than willingly, probably too eagerly. They all get broken up over the fact that Gojo never wants to actually enter into a relationship with them, and it’s probably because they chose not to take him seriously. He has a bad habit of spitting out the truth but presenting it like some sort of joke. A guy shouldn’t take you out to a nice dinner and make you cum twice before even thinking about himself if he doesn’t want a girl to fall in love with him. 
For as long as you’ve known Gojo, he’s never dated once. Never a high school sweetheart or a tumultuous college relationship bound for disappointment and a messy breakup. Even now, he doesn’t follow the example of the other men in positions of power like him, who pursue doe-eyed college girls to shower with affection and trap into manipulative relationships. 
He’s cute and funny and would treat you right, but you can’t deal with the embarrassment of having someone only for one night or two, only to have them do the same thing they did with you, just with someone else. It would feel like a mockery. Your pride doesn’t give you room to give in to Gojo’s charm.
“Is that really your only stipulation?” He shrugs, like this is something insignificant, and you’re being so silly. “I’ll stay committed to you for the entire duration of the bet.” 
You narrow your eyes. “You need to keep your dick wet at all times. I’m pretty sure you die if you don’t get off at least once a day.” 
Utahime coughs, but it sounds too much like a laugh. 
“True, but I bet you’d be great at keeping me alive.” 
Oh, he is definitely getting sent to HR.
“So you want me to believe in love, and you’re convinced you can do this by the time bonus season rolls around, which is only three months.” You’re entering business mode, rearranging the facts and coming up with strategies in your head. Satoru never thought that someone thinking could be so attractive, but here he is, and here you are. 
“I’ll agree to participate, but only if you can handle what I consider to be proper courting.”
“What does that consist of?” He’s got you, hook, line, and sinker. There’s nothing Satoru Gojo cannot accomplish. He’s built up his own wildly successful private equity firm, doubling his family’s fortune. He graduated top of his class. He gives every girl he’s ever been with consecutive, mind blowing orgasms using just his tongue and two fingers. There’s nothing you could possibly say that his natural talents and money can’t handle. 
“No sex. No kissing. No touching.” You lean back in your chair, looking far too smug. 
“Done.” 
He doesn’t even have to think about agreeing, but you falter, just for a second. 
“Really?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“It’s not just you saying no to sex with me, but sex in general.” You pause, trying to spot when the realization of the severity of his situation is. When he doesn’t give you a reaction, just still continuing to tilt his head in mild amusement, you continue. “You can’t flirt or take anyone else on a date, and you definitely can’t fuck them, either.” 
“Yes, I’m aware.” 
“You’re going to regret this.” You huff, certain that Gojo is dumber than you thought. He might think this is all fun and games now, but when he’s pent up and unable to get off, you’re certain you’re going to receive a text from him forfeiting the bet altogether. It shouldn’t bother you that he acts like your addition to the bet is easy, because his failure means your pockets get fatter, but it’s no fun playing games when someone isn’t ready to fully play to win.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” He says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Make sure to finish going over all the analysts’ slide decks because I’m taking you out tomorrow night.” 
The timer for the bet starts tomorrow, then.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Satoru thinks it’s cute that you thought you had him there, dangling sex like he’s some barbarian who can’t survive without it. Sure, fucking is fun, and sure, you’re definitely denying yourself of some of the greatest experiences you could have had, but he uses his brain more than his dick. 
If any girl is worth going celibate for, it’d be you.
Sitting in his office, he can’t concentrate on his work. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much that you think not having access to your body would be enough to turn him away. Either you really do think he’s a sex addict, or the men you’ve been with aren’t as great as they appear to be. It’s probably a mixture of both, but this conclusion doesn’t make him any happier. 
Neither does having Suguru saunter into his office, without knocking. Just walks in, like he owns the place. And with his fifty-percent ownership of the firm, and his last name right next to Gojo’s on the building, he kind of does.
“HR is going to have a field day with you,” his best friend says in exchange for a greeting. Satoru would have preferred a hello.
“HR is in charge of the payroll that I fund,” is Satoru’s retort. 
“Only you would force an employee into a childish bet instead of asking her out like a normal person.”
“Didn’t force her.” Satoru conveniently doesn’t acknowledge the latter half of his statement.
“Didn’t really give her much choice, either.” Suguru smiles. “Shit, even I’d deal with your ass for two hundred grand more.” 
“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m committed to one woman only.” 
“God help her.” And then, after taking a second to think, Suguru continues. “Actually, if He really cared, He wouldn’t have kept leading her to the same places as you.” 
“Maybe I’m her blessing.” 
No one in the office knows why Suguru is laughing so hard behind Gojo’s closed door.
Tumblr media
“There’s no way this is legal,” Utahime tells you, taking a sip out of her iced matcha latte before continuing on her half-lecture/half-rant. “Gojo needs to be behind bars.”
A bit dramatic, all things considered. It’s not like Gojo’s comments even make the list for sleazy things male coworkers have said to you before, and you’re not entirely innocent, either. You like to poke and prod at him because it’s fun, and you know that Gojo can take it. 
Utahime does not respect Gojo, but she does like him enough to tolerate him. They’re like brother and sister, so much so that one time, someone made an offhand comment about how they should just fuck to get rid of their antagonism towards each other, and they both threw up because they were so disgusted. 
“It is a bit inappropriate,” Nanami comments, and you know he’s right because when has Nanami ever been wrong?
Granted, Nanami must have been wrong sometime in his life. He started out with a similar background as everyone else working in the firm. He landed an internship and then a return offer in investment banking, despised it, pursued academia, and was halfway done with a PhD program in economics before he decided to come back and work for Gojo and Geto. He doesn’t tell anyone why he came back, and no one is close enough with him to ask and expect an honest answer.
Nanami having lunch with you is a treat because he prefers avoiding everyone in the office, so it almost feels like you’ve won a coveted prize, one to show off whenever you get back to the office. He likes to keep to himself, but even he’s only human. The interest in your little bet with Gojo is harbored by him, too, same as everyone else who’s heard about it. 
You should feel embarrassed about having your life so publicly known, but finance is a small, incestual pool. Everyone working within it knows each other, has fucked each other, and will continue to exclusively hate and love only each other. It’s a bit cultish, if you think about it, so you try not to focus on the social aspects of the job. 
“It’s not like I’m on his team or anything. I technically only handle deals managed by Geto.” You say this in defense of yourself, as if it changes the morality and ethics of the whole bet. It doesn’t, but the attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. 
“Geto and Gojo are essentially two halves of the same whole.” Utahime replies. “Geto just has more public decency training.” 
“You’re telling me that you can see Geto betting someone that he can make her fall in love with him in three months?” 
“No. He’s not as audacious. I like Geto, he’s very cautious.” Nanami looks thoughtful for a second. “He would bet six months, just to be safe.” 
Tumblr media
Satoru knows that he’s screwed the moment you’re being introduced as the newest student in his class. School started two weeks ago, so everything’s already been settled. Everything important, that is, so the hottest girl in class has been established, along with who’s going to be relentlessly bullied, and who everyone is going to cheat off of. He has different routes mapped out for getting to class, depending on his mood and who he’s trying to avoid, along with a new secret hiding spot that he’s not going to share with anyone, except for Suguru, and maybe Shoko. 
He likes that he’s already gotten all this shit dealt with so he can spend the rest of the year relaxing, but he’s watching you as you’re standing in front of the class, talking to the teacher and then introducing yourself.
The first thing he notices is that the ugly school uniforms are decidedly not ugly. He comes to this startling conclusion when the boxy, starchy white button-up shirt doesn’t look like cardboard on you, and that the gray wool of your skirt doesn’t wash you out. 
The next thing he notices is that you speak differently than any of the other teenage girls he’s dealt with, save for Utahime and Shoko. Shoko has no issue with speaking her mind, and if Satoru presses enough buttons with enough pressure, he can get Utahime to curse like a sailor. He spaces his aggressions out accordingly, so that way when she does blow up in his face, she does it in the presence of an adult. You introduce yourself confidently; there is nothing shy or meek about you, even though standing in front of a bunch of disinterested teens — your strange new peers for the rest of your high school years — should be anxiety inducing. 
Then, you take the empty seat next to him like it belongs to you, and Satoru is starting to think that maybe it does, that maybe it always has. 
(Well, Suguru is sick today, that’s why the seat was available.)
Anyway, all of his carefully laid out plans are now tossed out the window. He needs to figure out what route you take to get around, and what the rest of your class schedule looks like, and maybe it’s just him, but the former hottest girl in school has now been demoted to second-best. 
He feels a shift in the air, like the universe is trying to signal major change in his life, and rather than run away from it, Satoru settles into his seat, noticing how you’re not even giving him the time of day. 
There’s an unfamiliar feeling rising inside of him; something that says you’re going to constantly knock him off-balance and—
—he kinda likes it.
1K notes · View notes
pinkexpertnerdghost · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Watch and Be Amazed!
Lyney x Gn!Reader
Synopsis: As a simple person with a boring job, you set out to travel the nations. You attend a renowned magic show only to be suddenly placed in the shared spotlight with the magical duo.
GIF by @c6jpg
 { i'm still exploring Fontaine but quick heads up on mentioning new locations, dw its spoiler free about the archon quest}
General: SFW, fluffy, magic tricks, Lyney being extra and sneaky, feat Lynette 
A/N: i love him. Cheeky little guy with his equally cheeky little grin mulkin cat- I didn’t think I’d like him this much but he easily sneaked himself into my heart already also because I recently got him- I just wanna squish him (endearingly)
Tumblr media
“ Voila! And now in its place are our feathered friends taking flight!” The magician exclaimed as a small swarm of doves flew out of his hands. Just seconds ago, he held a gorgeous bouquet of arranged daisies and prisma like roses, complete with adorned white ribbons and lace. The small bush of green and flora had simply vanished and transformed into a mass of white feathers. 
Your awes become a droplet in the sea of gasps and astonishment from the people around you . Pushing yourself to the end of your cushy seat, you stare ahead in amazement and curiosity.  
Even though you sat some rows away from the front seats, you were mesmerized by the trick. You were certain the bouquet had practically melted and shifted into the cocoon of feathers. At least, that’s how it appeared to your eyes.  
Trailing the doves as they flew above the audience, you unconsciously let out a small laugh of joy like that of an entertained child. The doves flew around freely, some reaching high atop the Opera House’s stretching ceiling and some flew closer to the audience barely grazing above their heads. 
You had been traveling for weeks, as you were lacking some excitement in your mundane life as a simple shop clerk. It had a well off pay and the owner was kind. Yet every passing day became more boring than the last. Soon enough, the days would weld and mend together in your memory as a tapestry of a lackluster pattern. You were afraid it would overshadow a great portion of your lifetime. 
As a shop clerk, you had seen many travelers coming and going, talking about the beautiful sceneries across the rest of Teyvat they have witnessed, varies dishes you’ve never tried before being described as mouthwatering, the wonderful cultures, festivities and traditions people from around this world took part in. It had always left you in a state of entrance and jealousy for them, as they would have the freedom and determination to see the worlds wonders with their own eyes.
Seeing your yearning gaze and saddened expression when the travelers or adventurers left through the front door, your employer had generously given you some vacation time. You were one of your boss’s most dedicated workers, often swooping in for a fellow coworker if they fell ill or couldn’t make it otherwise. You have done more than enough to earn yourself this time off. 
And so, you took your life by the rings and were off into the road. Traveling from one nation to the other and to the now where you were. In the seat in one of the most impressive buildings you have ever seen. 
From the moment you boarded off the Aquabus; the little guides being one of the cutest beings you’ve ever seen; you oogled and awed in the splendor around you. Fontaine had been one leap of a cultural shock for you. Sure, sometimes you moved boxes of bits and bobs of Fontaine imported trinkets onto shelves, but seeing this much advanced technology was a bit exhilarating as well as a bit imposing
However, something there was something that immediately caught your eye when walking about. On a bulletin board was an array of multicolored posters and newsletter, but the bright red one with a grinning cat in the hat caught your gaze immediately. 
“ Come and behold A magical performance performed by renowned Magicians Lyney and Lynette! ” 
The names struck a cord in your memory. Ah, that's right! You had heard a great deal about a very specific Magic show in Fontaine. You remembered it being brought up a good number of times back in the shop. The way people would sound excited and how they could barely contain themselves trying to describe a magic trick as best they could. 
Since you were in the area you had managed to investigate it and wound up purchasing a ticket to go see.  
“ Back to the stage my feathery entourage!! Being in the presence of such a wonderful audience is indeed riveting, but I’m going to need the spotlight back to preform the next trick, haha!” The magician Lyney said with a pleading laugh. The doves seem to have understood them as they all flew back onto the stage. From either side of the giant velvet curtain, the flew behind it disappearing into the shadow. 
“ For this next trick, I’m going to need a hand!” He exclaimed while putting his hands on his hips. He then put a hand on his forehead and looked around the area while squinting his eyes. From the right side of the stage came another person. She had on a similar uniform to her twin brother, adorned with teals, blues and grays. It was a counterpart to the reds, pinks, and plum Lyney wore in his intricate performer’s outfit. 
Yet they both had the motif of that same toothy grinning kitty you saw tagging the corner’s of the promotional posters. 
Lynette had walked behind Lyney and tapped his shoulder twice with a stoic expression. Lyney had turned dramatically around on his heel, immediately stopping his dire search for help.
“Ah, It seems as though Lynette has come to the rescue!” He cheered and with a grateful hand gesture divided the audience's attention to Lynette. She stood there facing the crowd with a curt expression. Lynette seemed to be the polar opposite of her brother. While Lyney was loud, extravagant and energetic, his assistant and sister was quieter, docile and seemed unmoved with the theatrics. However, to you she was as equally impressive as the red Magician. 
In an earlier trick where they’d pull objects directly out of flat cards, Lynette had elegantly swiped off a parasol, a tea cup with piping hot tea given the steam, and an adorable hat with that grinning black cat. All while keeping a calm disposition as if she knew everything and anything that was to come. It boggled you how she managed to slip the illustrations to real physical objects.
But then again, the Magicians never reveal their trade secrets.
Lyney tapped his cheek before he spoke again. “It seems as if we will need a little more help to perform this magic trick, wouldn’t you agree Lynette?” 
Lynette simply nodded.
Lyney’s shoulders relaxed as he twirled around to face the audience. He held his hands behind his back as he paced back and forth. His eyes never leave the audience.
“ For this trick, It will require three people.”
There were very quiet, almost inaudible murmurs and whispers in the crowd. You paid them no mind and kept your eyes focused on the stage. In your mind, you were guessing how the next trick would go.
Lyney stopped center stage.
“ I can see your enthusiasm and excitement! In that case, I shall pick one person from the crowd who will help Lynette and I out!” He said with a jovial grin. His cat-like eyes scanned around the crowd. After this, many people kept their eyes on the Magician scoping out for an available assistant. 
Seeing as you weren’t in the first row or a local, you have settled that your chance of being picked was slim. So instead of paying attention to the main stage and spotlight, you turned your head from side to side. Envisioning the lucky person who would be fished out of the ocean of filled seats. Perhaps it would be the beautiful woman with quite the attractive headpiece sitting a row down from you. Or maybe, it would be the little boy three five seats to your left practically bouncing in his seat chanting to let it be him. 
The choice could be anyone but yourself.
“ You my dear! Could you help Lynette and I out with this trick?” Lyney’s voice resounded once more.
Your eyes squirted suddenly as a bright source of light was now trained above you. Sinking back onto your seat, you turn to face the stage. 
Those cat-like lilac eyes stared directly into your own [E/C] ones. Alongside with the deep royal purple eyes belonging to his assistant Lynette. Looking around and behind, you noticed the two people beside you glance at you with slight surprise. 
You pointed at yourself just to make sure. You didn’t know if you made a face with the sudden surprise of the spotlight, but Lyney chuckled in amusement. 
His eyes crinkled slightly as he nodded, his hair bobbing along with his head and sturdy hat. His laughter made you feel a bit fuzzy in the chest. Maybe you were just starstruck. 
“ Yes you. If it is alright, could you perhaps follow the staff by your row to escort you on stage?” He said, extending a hand to a person in a theater mask and green vest standing at the end of the row. His lilac eyes never left you. 
It was hard to say, but you could assume he was silently communicating with you. His soft eyes were patient and still, unlike his theatrical energy he demonstrated earlier. 
‘ Are you okay with this? ‘ 
He didn’t mind the sudden recess of silence, in fact it only added to the build up to the magic trick. It wasn’t long until you blinked, breaking yourself out of your star-stricken surprise. 
You nodded at Lyney, to which he gripped the brim of his hat quietly tipping it to you with a satisfied grin.
“ Very well, please follow the staff down the aisle while we set up on stage!” 
After squeezing down your row and next to the staff member with the mask, you followed them as they led you towards the stage. The staff member was kind enough to guide you through the dimly lit place, your eyes were examining the person. Their mask is what stuck with you, you’ve never seen anything like it. It was both beautifully crafted yet it gave you a small chill of danger and mystic. It was probably made for this purpose of the show. 
No elemental magic of those who wielded visions, but instead a tightrope thinly strung between reality and fantasy.
The stage was elevated but after climbing up the stairs onto the polished stage. Lyney beckoned you to come up next to him. You shuffled closer, both your hands behind your back fidgeting in a nervous manner.
The spotlight was now back onto Lyney and Lynette and now you as well.
“ Might I know the name of the new assistant I’ll be working with temporarily?” He asked as he now faced you. Lynette came to his side, her violet eyes glazing over you with relaxed attentiveness. 
You felt your mouth become a bit dry. “ I’m [Name].” You spoked normally. 
Lyney bowed, taking off his tophat bringing it close to his chest. 
“ It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear [Name]” He bounced back up, flipping his hat back onto his head. 
You shifted on your foot and that seemed to have caught the attention of the magical duo. 
“ Hmm, are you perhaps nervous?” He asked. “ It is quite alright. Whenever the light is trained on you, the feeling of stage fright comes at you like the onslaught of tidal waves.” He said, in a non projecting voice. He still sounded loud enough for the audience to hear, but his words weren’t exaggerated in a way to make you feel queasy. Instead, it sounded like he was cheering you on, a little push of confidence he would share with you.
Maybe you were overthinking it. He is a performer so its his job to turn up the charm towards the audience.
Lynette had subtly sent you a reassuring little smile. She walked up next to you and stood by you now.
 “ Perhaps, you may just have some butterflies in your stomach. It happens to the best of us!” He spoke. His gloved hand came up to you.
“ May I have what’s in your side pocket?” His eyes shifted down to your right pocket. Confused, you reach down into your pocket and feel around. There was a smooth and flat object that you didn’t remember having there, so you slipped it out. 
In your hand was a playing card. It wasn’t an ordinary playing card. It looked to be one of the card props that belonged to the two Magicians. Figuring he wanted it back; without you having the faintest Idea of how it got there in the first place; you handed it to him. 
He grabbed the card and raised it up to his face to inspect it.
“Aha! Just as I thought. You had made a bundle of these pesky little butterflies.” He slipped the card back to his palm. He twirled back to face you with a triumphant smile as if he’d found a treasure chest. “ Fear not, for I will rid you of this troubling kaleidoscope!”
With that being said, he tossed the card over your head.
Or at least, a zipping card was what you were expecting.
Instead, a small little tornado of little butterflies escapes from Lyneys hand. They fluttered around you in a tunnel-like pattern. 
Completely forgetting about the audience, you craned your hand up and stared in awe. Looking closely, some butterflies had little trails of violet shimmer. The butterflies themselves didn't seem to be real butterflies. On some you managed to see the wings to be made out of the back of playing cards. 
The butterflies dispersed out onto the crowd, until each one vanished without a trace. 
“Now then, are you feeling better?” Lyney asked, both hands on his hips.
You nodded with a smile on your face. The small pit of nervousness was now reduced to a grain. 
“Wonderful! And, it seems as if you have magic in you yourself, what luck!” Lyney exclaimed. Lynette all the while silently side eyed her brother and his antics. 
“Now then if you may follow Lynette, she will guide you to this next trick or a trio.” he smiled. 
Lynette had raised a hand to you in order to take it. You complied and took her hand as she led you behind the curtain.
“ Are you okay? I know Lyney can be a bit over the top, but if at any point feeling bad, let us know.” Lynette spoke calmly to you.
“ I’m alright now. I just wasn't expecting to get picked.” You said honestly. 
Lynette nodded. “ It's like that for most who get chosen.” 
She guided you towards a little box which was decorated with a little four pointed gold star in the center. The box was relatively small, reaching from the ground to knee level
“ When they take the box you’ll have to stand on it. I’ll stand in my own box next to you. Just follow Lyney’s instructions.” She said, 
“Also, brace your feet after the curtain falls.” 
You listened closely and nodded.
“Alright. Got it.” 
Lynette hummed.
 Behind the big red curtain you heard the crowd laugh and clap. 
“And now for the anticipated trick, shall I have my two assistants step back into the light?” 
Lynette and you came back onto the stage. Again in the limelight, you noticed the two boxes parallel to each other. 
“ For this next trick, both my assistants shall switch their places before your very eyes.” Lyney spoke calmly.
“But wait a moment. This is a simple trick one could accomplish by simply walking across the stage to the other boxes. This trick is sounding more like a runway show than magic.” Lyney sighed in defeat. In a quick one eighty mood switch, Lyney perked up and raised his chin high.
“ But no, dear spectators in the crowd. This trick shall be done with neither of my assistants leaving the confines of their one by one area!” Lyney exclaimed, flapping his little side cape in the process. 
Lynette turned and gave you a look, a very specific look. You took it to get on the box and you walked over to the one closest to you. 
“ Now then, a little tent shall fall on top of both of them. Switching places without jumping, walking or running is a lot more exhausting than it sounds.” As soon as he said that, above you began to descend a festive red tent. 
It slowly descended until the dark velvet of the inside tent obscure your vision of the crowd and them of yourself. You could only hear the echoing voice of Lyney as the crowd was now fully silenced in anticipation. 
The words of Lynette rang in your mind, as you looked down to your feet.
“ For you see, the most can happen within the blink of an eye.”
You felt the box underneath you dip slightly. Barely enough time to even gasp, you had fallen through the solid box beneath you. Quickly you bent your knees and positioned yourself to be able to absorb the momentum of your fall. 
Once landing soundly, you looked up to see how you had fallen. In the ceiling was a rectangular indentation of a trapdoor.
You heard a ‘psst’ to your right. There you say Lynette making a quick hand gesture to switch places; motioning to you and the spot beneath her feet. 
Speeding over to her, you took little but key notice in your new surroundings. The walls were barren, the air had slight dust, and light from the stage lights barely made it through the miniature nooks and crannies of the floorboards. You were underground. 
Once getting to where lynette last stood, you waited. Looking around where you stood there was a small ladder behind you. 
Suddenly a similar trap door like the one where you initially stood, swung open. 
Taking this as a new signal, you climbed onto the ladder trying to make as little noise as you could. Once above ground, the trap door that was once open shut, making the ground below you stable enough to stand on.
 “ As such, a walk across this stage could be reduced down to none!”
You heard a harsh step down onto the floor followed by a snap of a finger. 
The tent around you was pulled back up at lighting speed leaving you stunned in place. The crowd ahead was looking back and forth between the place where you once were and to where you are now. A roar of whistles and claps was heard. 
Looking to where you once were, stood Lynette waving at the crowd. The same stoic expression on her face. 
Lyney came skipping up to your side. 
“ How are you feeling dear [Name]? I hope you aren't too disoriented by the little trip you took.”
You looked at him, he had a proud grin on his face. The light shown down was overshadowed by the brim of his top hat. And yet, his eyes and distinguishable teardrop mark on his right cheek made you feel all sorts of flustered all over again.
Then again you noticed just how packed the Opera is. You had forgotten momentarily that there was an audience. The showers of cheers came down like a bolt of lightning striking the still water. 
“I’m fine, just a bit perplexed.” You shook your head trying to process what had just happened in what felt like a fraction of a minute.  
“ Oh my, it seems you may have been slightly shaken when vanishing from one spot to the other.” He hummed. 
“ That's it! I shall make it up to you! But I’ll have to get you back to your original box.” He said tapping his curled up hand onto his open palm. 
He stood up onto the tips of his toes, as from your height atop the box managed to put you at a larger distance from him. Figuring he might tell you something , you leaned down slightly.
“ When the tent drops on you once more, close your eyes. Don’t open them until you hear me say, Hat. Trust me, I’m sure this trick will put a blinding smile on your face.” He said quietly, a hand placed by his mouth blocking it from the audience ahead.
You weren’t sure what he meant or what would happen but somehow, you trusted him. Maybe it was his pretty face, charming personality, or simply because a famous and professional performer. 
A little breathy chuckle escaped him before he leaned away and waltzed back to the front and center. Something about him smiling and laughing made your heart almost pop.
You internally battled these pestering thoughts; You were just starstruck! A celebrity crush, don’t let it get to you. Especially in front of a massive crowd watching your every move! 
You took some short breaths in and faced ahead onto the wall behind the audience. You didn’t want to let this confusing feeling consume you.
“And now, one final trick before our amazing temporary assistant bids adieu.” He sighed. From his chest he pulled out a white handkerchief he blew into. The crowd laughed at his little mopping gag.
“ It was a pleasure to have you on stage with us, [Name].” He said before swiping the used hanky away. It disappeared into red and white sparks into the air. 
The tent above you descended once again, and the moment you found yourself in the shaded confines you closed your eyes. You could only listen to what was happening around you.
“Now then, why don’t we send our new friend off with a grand finale?”
The surrounding noise of the crowd murmuring came through as buzzing. You felt the ground once more give out underneath you. Holding in your breath you prepared for what may have come next. 
Something, or someone caught you. You felt the sudden mass underneath you, and suddenly there was a small breeze passing into your face. Your eyes squeezed shut the entire time. 
Suddenly, you felt your feet touch a solid floor. You stood up, the person letting you go as you stabilized yourself. 
“ And so, they shall appear where they once were at the drop of a hat!” 
You heard it. Cracking open one eye you see once again a velvet curtain of a tent. Blinking, adjusting to the light, the tent was pulled up.
This time there was some cheer for a few seconds. The sudden Huhs? And murmurs slowly began to take a hold of the audience. Curious as to the mood shift you look around you. 
Lyney, no longer wearing his signature tophat that had been left sitting on the floor. 
Where Lynette was supposed to be, she was no more. Instead, there was a small top hat lying top down on the box. 
Lyney, surprised, went over to the hat. 
“Lynette? Oh Lyneeette? Where did you vanish off to?” He took the hat and looked inside of it, as if his sister were inside the hat. 
You were slightly puzzled at first. Where on Teyvat could she have gone? Your doubts were suddenly clouded by an obvious truth.
This had to be part of the show. 
So you kept your eyes on the male twin, anticipating what he will do next.
Giving up in calling out to his sister, still holding onto the small hat in his hands, he walked over to where you stood. 
“ It seems that she won’t show herself unless we make her appear out of this hat. [Name], if you would.” He then extended the small hat in my direction. 
You delicately grabbed the brim area closest to you. Lyney let go, and you looked inside the empty hat. The material felt slightly heavy but the intricate seamless pattern woven into the pitch black fabric made you closely look at it.
You heard a small tapping noise, you looked back to the magician as he tapped the back of his hand. Putting two and two together, you quickly flip the hat upright. 
You mimicked Lyney’s motion on the hat’s top about three times. 
The first tap, colorful feathers floated to the ground.
The second tap, petals of flowers twirled on their way down.
The final tap, a deck of prop cards spilt out and crashing against the stage floor with clicks and claps.
“Looks like she isn’t in there.” Lyney quipped. You were once again thrown into utter confusion. The comedic way the crowd gasped after one object came after another object from the empty hat. At some point the reactions of surprise slowly turned into snickers and giggles of amusement. 
Lyney placed a hand on his hip and scratched his chin. “ Try doing it again with the hat upside down. Maybe, a different approach will convince her to come out.” 
So, you turn the hat over. Sneakily taking a small peak inside, and as you suspected it was empty. 
How does he pull these things off? Seriously! How?!?
Replicating your previous action, you tapped the brim. 
A small puff of smoke and confetti made you step back. Out of the hat a cat sprung!
Or was it a cat?
It was a big cat face attached to a coiled spring.
It was cute! It had the signature toothy grin the show’s mascot had, yet it had it turned upside down in a frowny face. One eye has a teal star and the other has a teal teardrop. It even had a little bowtie making it a very fashionable cat creature.
It turned to face you as its ears twitched. You’re eyes locked with its own strange one and you found yourself in a staring contest….with the giant cat head on a spring of all things.
“ Oh dear, it looks like Bogglecat seemed to have answered instead of Lynette” Lyney laughed. 
Tip Tap Tip Tap 
You and Lyney turned to face Lyney’s hat that had just shook slightly on the floor. 
Poof!
The hat had blasted up into the air and below the hat there was Lynette. Slightly obscured by the turquoise colored fog. 
“ Here I am.” Lynette spoked up.
Grabbing the brim of Lyney’s hat she tipped it and bowed before the audience. The audience clapped and some people even stood up from their seats. 
The Bogglecat in the hat leaped from your hands and jumped over towards the spotlight where Lynette was. Lyney came running over to you and carefully grabbed your now free hand.
“ C’mon, the audience is waiting for the final bows.” He hushed at you with that permanently charming smile of his. His pale blonde hair bounced along as he urged you to join him and his sister. With no reason to refuse, you ran along with him. You felt the corner of your mouth curl up in a giddy smile. Now unafraid of the public you stood in the bright lights with your chest held high.
Lynette tossed Lyney’s hat into the air, landing it perfectly on Lyney’s head. The cat in the hat jumped right into Lynette's hand. Once she caught it, she twirled it around in her hand like a skilled juggler. The cat suddenly vanished inside the hat, and the small hat now was held against her head.
“ This has been Lyney and Lynette’s Magic show! Thank You all for watching!” The three of you held hands; Lyney at the center, Lynette to his right, and you to his left. Lifting your hands up, you three did a dramatic bow. This audience applauded one final time for the performance. It was the loudest applause you had heard during your time in the Opera Epiclese.
Slowly people had started to leave the theater, with the front entrance reopened many people had started to trickle out into the lobby. This left fewer and fewer people in the main room, the Opera house becoming 
You were preparing to step down the stage staircase until you heard someone call out to you.
“ Wait, [Name]! If you could spare a moment?” It was a voice you had quickly grown familiar with. 
The top hat with the plum colored ribbon, the pale blonde tuffet that covered just above his right eye, and that teardrop marking beneath the same right eye. Lyney came speedily towards you, his sister Lynette following a bit behind. Unlike him, she calmly walked over and that stoic expression on her face felt a bit more done than what you had seen. 
“Hm? What is it Mister Lyney?” You stopped and asked politely. Looking over the male twin you glanced at his sister “Miss Lynette?” 
“That was a splendid performance you made on stage! You went along just swimmingly with our act.” Lyney gushed. 
Once again you felt flustered. Out of all things, a professional magician complimenting you on a magic trick? You scratched your cheek. 
“ I was just following you guys. Really, if anyone should be taking compliments it is you two!” You spoke with enthusiasm.  “ The way Miss Lynette pulled out the items right off the cards, or when you made my ‘ stomach butterflies ‘ disappear. It really was a treat to see!” You felt your face getting a bit warmer as you continued to spill your excitement into words.
“ This will definitely be a nice memory I won't be forgetting any time soon!” 
Lyney chuckled and even Lynette’s eyes grew slightly larger with interest. 
“ You’re too kind!” Lyney chuckled, his pale face getting the slightest bit pink in the cheeks. “  I don’t believe I’ve seen your face in our crowd before. Are you maybe a tourist coming from a distance to see our show?” 
You nodded. “ I am as a matter of fact. I don’t get out much to say the least.” You confessed. 
“ I’ve heard about your magic show for some time now, traveling groups have brought it up time and time again. Fontaine was my next destination so I took the opportunity to come see it myself.”
You smiled gently. “ This was my first legitimate magical performance I had the fortune of attending. Not to mention getting randomly selected to participate! Thank you for the fun time, Mister Lyney and Miss Lynette.” 
Lyney and Lynette listened with great interest.
“ I see. Thus, making this show a memorable experience for you was all the more rewarding then.” Lyney took off his hat and brought it to his chest. 
“We are both happy to have put a beautiful smile on your lovely face!~” Lyney very gently lifted your hand. Bringing it close to his face, he placed a small almost ghostly peck. 
Okay. Now you definitely felt your face may have caught on fire. 
Lyney might have noticed your sudden flustered face. The sneaky magician sent a very brief wink with a smile. Not just any smile. This smile had a more feline nature to it; as if he enjoyed seeing such a reaction from you. 
 He lowered your hand back down, and flipped his hat back onto his head. That cat-like smirk was nowhere to be seen anymore. Innocently smiling at you, he laughed. It sounded slightly nervous. 
“ Well, if you will be around Fonaine for a while longer, find us by the Aquabus station. We might just have spare time to show you around!” 
Slipping your hand behind your back, you tried to reply to his friendly invitation.
“ Mhm! Aquabus station. Go it!” you spoke in broken segments. 
Oh dear, maybe it's time you’d step outside for some fresh air.
“ I think I should get going now. Who knows how long the people traffic is in the lobby now. It was great meeting you. Your cat mascots are cute and now I shall leave” You had begun to word vomit as you were shuffling away.
 “ Bye bye!” 
Facing away from the magic duo, you speed walk down onto the carpeted floor. Not daring to look back, you heard the sound of an amused giggle and an exasperated sigh.
“ Are you proud of yourself? You almost made them faint with your antics.” Lynette tipped the back of Lyney’s hat. It fell forward and off but he had quickly caught it before it hit the ground.
“ Hey, I just wanted to make evening a little more magical is all. It was the most I can do from withholding them back from leaving" 
"Right. And you had to tease them until they were red in the face."
Lyney stared at his sister for a moment, until he thought.
He felt a small hitch of embarrassment in his chest realizing something.
"I- Uh, didn't go to far with the card letter, right?" He nervously asked.
Lynette sighed and shook her head.
"Brother, most of the time you don't even need the spotlight to be over dramatic."
Once you were outside and looking up at the sky. The skies were different in every spot you had been. Here in Fontaine, you could barely see the twinkling stars. 
As you sighed contently, you made your way over to the hotel you had planned to stay in for the time. As you shifted you felt something shift alongside you in your sleeve. It was cold and smooth.
Surprised, you dug into your sleeve.
It was a playing card. A prop playing card. 
“ I hope you had a magical Evening, [Name]. Meet me by the bench near the potted flowers by the station at noon tomorrow. If you show up, best prepare for I still have tricks up my sleeve that will leave you dazzled! “ 
There was a little doodle of a toothy grinning cat.
A/N: Should I make a part two? Idk maybe. EDIT: PART TWO HERE
1K notes · View notes
wutheringcaterpillar · 4 months
Note
Tommy Shelby convincing his wife to stop being angry at him after an argument
Tumblr media
Thank you again so much!
warnings: Reader is insecure and Tom is an ass still learning to love, fluff
“I’m not angry, I’m livid Thomas! You completely embarrassed me tonight, and had the audacity to place me at a dinner table with a woman that wants to fuck my husband!” He rolled his eyes carelessly, fully understanding why you were upset but denying the simple state of your feelings before raising his voice. “Maybe you would have understood had your simple mind set aside your inner personal problems and not been consumed by a ridiculous, saddening amount of jealousy!” You jaw dropped in astonishment at what he had said, before your anger mixed into sadness. Whipping your head around, you rushed out of the room, finding yourself taking solace in the bedroom.
He followed you, brushing his hand down his face in worry as he knew he had gone too far. You were just a delicate little thing that knew close to nothing about business but he hadn’t intended for her to be there at the meeting.
When he walked through the door and saw you sitting on the disheveled sheets, weeping into you palms, he knew he had gone too far and shouldn’t have raised his voice at you.
He knew you were a delicate little thing that could be insecure just based off of the previous women he had been involved with. Not only were they beautiful, but they also knew how to bargain and handle business affairs. But he had never, ever intended to throw your worries and concerns in your face in such a manner. He loved you deeply and was still learning how to show you, how to respect your boundaries. In his eyes you were his rock, the most beautiful woman in the world whom always treated him with such kindness and patience.
Taking his seat next to you on the mattress, he slowly attempted to place his arm around you but you nudged him away, not wanting a single thing to do with him at this very moment.
Sighing, his eyes scanned the room, contemplating the best way to handle this without screwing it up.
When he spoke, it was with sincerity, his voice was as soft as a loving dove. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to say that. With business comes hardships and we will fight. We will be mad at each other, most likely because of myself.” He heard you chuckle lightly through the tears, catching his attention.
“But I truly did not know she would be attending and I should have told you of her intentions.” Your cries were beginning to simmer down when you found the courage to turn toward him, staring into his blue eyes that radiated kindness, no anger apparent.
When he saw you tear-stained face he wanted to kick himself, to rewind and wish he had never even arranged this business deal at the expense of your feelings. His eyebrows furrowed together, his thumb tracing away your tears as his lips pursed together in regret.
“She smirked at me Thomas… She blatantly said to me in the kitchen she would win you over, she told me I was just a chess piece in a game I’d never understand nor win.” Thomas hadn’t known that, if he did he would’ve thrown them out of your home, had the whore walking home in fear for her life, taking everything from her in just a matter of minutes, completely demolishing any confidence or thought that she would have a chance with him.
His hand clenched together in anger while he tried to avoid becoming more aggressive than he had already been tonight. It was one thing to disrespect him, but you were far more important, and far more vulnerable at times than he was and he drew a line when it came to anyone speaking to his beloved wife in such disgust manner.
“Believe me when I say, this deal is off and you won’t ever see her again. The dumb blonde was talking out of her ass, and I will not stand for someone disrespecting my wife. She could never compete with my strong, loving, overly attractive Y/N. No woman would ever come between us my darling. Nonetheless, you are my rock, and have put up with the darkest sides of me and still choose to stand by me as I do you and that will never change my love.” A small smile formed on your face while the anger, and hatred in the room seemed to fade out, and simmer down.
Pulling you into his arms, you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his skin and the smell of cigarettes bringing immense comfort to your body, causing your bones to relax and not be so stiff and full of tension anymore.
He held you tight, rubbing slow circles over your back as he felt your breathing become more subtle and on track. From this moment forward he knew he had to do better, he didn’t want to imagine a life without you in it, he wouldn’t.
He had never felt so lucky to have you, and was still trying to change his ways for you, even if it was the slightest amount just to keep you near and dear at his side, just where had had wanted you. Placing a soft, chaste kiss to your silky, delicate skin as he hugged you tightly, brushing one hand through the strands of your hair lovingly while he whispered endless apologies, never wanting to upset you in this manner ever again.
599 notes · View notes
aluciahaz · 2 months
Note
Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏
I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him
TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH
i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
—vox x gn!reader
—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging
Tumblr media
vox is so obvious.
he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.
sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.
which, was almost impressively easy to do.
his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.
a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.
live only for you.
but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.
“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.
“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.
you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.
“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.
“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.
“impatient.”
“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.
“i told you to wait.”
“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.
simply unacceptable.
instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.
“i’ll make you remember.”
his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.
“i’d like to see you try.”
so, try you did.
his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.
you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.
“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”
“beggars can’t be choosers.”
“i don’t fucking beg—!”
“you will.”
there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.
“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.
“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.
all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.
but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.
an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”
finally, he was using his manners.
“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.
“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.
“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”
you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.
“do you understand? you’re mine.”
you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.
his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.
“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”
his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.
“cum for me then.”
instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.
you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.
“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”
this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.
but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.
fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.
Tumblr media
sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist
579 notes · View notes
reasonsforhope · 9 months
Text
No-paywall version.
"You can never really see the future, only imagine it, then try to make sense of the new world when it arrives.
Just a few years ago, climate projections for this century looked quite apocalyptic, with most scientists warning that continuing “business as usual” would bring the world four or even five degrees Celsius of warming — a change disruptive enough to call forth not only predictions of food crises and heat stress, state conflict and economic strife, but, from some corners, warnings of civilizational collapse and even a sort of human endgame. (Perhaps you’ve had nightmares about each of these and seen premonitions of them in your newsfeed.)
Now, with the world already 1.2 degrees hotter, scientists believe that warming this century will most likely fall between two or three degrees. (A United Nations report released this week ahead of the COP27 climate conference in Sharm el Sheikh, Egypt, confirmed that range.) A little lower is possible, with much more concerted action; a little higher, too, with slower action and bad climate luck. Those numbers may sound abstract, but what they suggest is this: Thanks to astonishing declines in the price of renewables, a truly global political mobilization, a clearer picture of the energy future and serious policy focus from world leaders,
we have cut expected warming almost in half in just five years.
...Conventional wisdom has dictated that meeting the most ambitious goals of the Paris agreement by limiting warming to 1.5 degrees could allow for some continuing normal, but failing to take rapid action on emissions, and allowing warming above three or even four degrees, spelled doom.
Neither of those futures looks all that likely now, with the most terrifying predictions made improbable by decarbonization and the most hopeful ones practically foreclosed by tragic delay. The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse.
Over the last several months, I’ve had dozens of conversations — with climate scientists and economists and policymakers, advocates and activists and novelists and philosophers — about that new world and the ways we might conceptualize it. Perhaps the most capacious and galvanizing account is one I heard from Kate Marvel of NASA, a lead chapter author on the fifth National Climate Assessment: “The world will be what we make it.” Personally, I find myself returning to three sets of guideposts, which help map the landscape of possibility.
First, worst-case temperature scenarios that recently seemed plausible now look much less so, which is inarguably good news and, in a time of climate panic and despair, a truly underappreciated sign of genuine and world-shaping progress...
[I cut number two for being focused on negatives. This is a reasons for hope blog.]
Third, humanity retains an enormous amount of control — over just how hot it will get and how much we will do to protect one another through those assaults and disruptions. Acknowledging that truly apocalyptic warming now looks considerably less likely than it did just a few years ago pulls the future out of the realm of myth and returns it to the plane of history: contested, combative, combining suffering and flourishing — though not in equal measure for every group...
“We live in a terrible world, and we live in a wonderful world,” Marvel says. “It’s a terrible world that’s more than a degree Celsius warmer. But also a wonderful world in which we have so many ways to generate electricity that are cheaper and more cost-effective and easier to deploy than I would’ve ever imagined. People are writing credible papers in scientific journals making the case that switching rapidly to renewable energy isn’t a net cost; it will be a net financial benefit,” she says with a head-shake of near-disbelief. “If you had told me five years ago that that would be the case, I would’ve thought, wow, that’s a miracle.”"
-via The New York Times Magazine, October 26, 2022
2K notes · View notes
standfucker · 3 months
Note
Hello!! I've been thinking about an AFAB reader in the straw hat crew who dresses as a man. Short hair and masculine clothes that cover her up. She doesn't want people treating her differently or going easy on her in fights because of her gender hence her constant charade. Because of this the crew doesn't know that she is actually woman. I'd like to request drabbles of how Zoro, Sanji, And Luffy would react when finding out and where they would. Also, SFW please!
This was fun! ^^ Thanks for submitting a request! I tried to keep these a consistent length and failed. Each one ended up longer than the last... I'll have to keep trying harder to pace myself.
Discovering Your Secret - Monster Trio
CW: chest binding, canon-typical violence, injury (not described in detail), gun violence, battle trauma, nudity, awkwardness
Luffy
Group bathing was one bonding activity on the Sunny that you had to miss out on. Shyness wasn’t like you, but the guys chalked it up to a weird personality quirk and long since stopped questioning it. Some people liked their privacy, no big deal. Really, it was never a problem until Luffy barged into the bathroom one day while you were soaking, the door swinging open so hard it bounced back shut behind him.
You tried to shout that the bathroom was occupied, but it was drowned out by Luffy’s own yell of “GUM GUM CANNONBALL!” The next thing you knew, Luffy had somehow launched himself out of his clothes and into the tub, making a massive splash that took out half the water. It was only by sheer luck that he didn’t collide with you. 
Instantly you sank down low into the remaining water so only your head was above the surface. The clear water offered no protection, however, so you had to cover your chest and cross your legs. Embarrassment and panicky fear were rotten feelings to have when you had just gotten relaxed, and you found yourself getting angry on top of it all. This was such a stupid way to be found out, and it was only because your captain lacked any self-awareness.
Luffy came up with a laugh, then opened his eyes and blinked at you for a second. “Oh, hey!” he said, oblivious to your stress. “I didn’t know you were in here! Robin told me she just drew a bath, so I came in. Didn’t hear the rest of what she said–I guess she drew it for you! Shi shi shi.”
You stared at him, open-mouthed, too stunned to speak right away.
Luffy’s brows raised when you didn’t respond. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to bathe with others. Sorry!” “Luffy?” you tried, but he kept talking.
”Well, I’m here now, so we might as well share! We can wash each other’s backs.”
”Luffy.”
”What are you so shy for, anyway? You look fine to me.”
”Luffy!” you snapped.
”What?”
”Get out!”
”But I’m already wet!” he complained, and you mentally screamed at his stubbornness.
”Then I’ll get out! But you have to look away!” you barely managed to keep from yelling at him, trying not to lose your cool lest he get suspicious.
Luffy pursed his lips. “Fine, sheesh. I won’t look.”
He turned his head away. You hesitated, then quickly stood up and made to leave. You took one step onto the tub–and immediately slipped, thanks to the water Luffy splashed there a moment ago. A yelp left you as you fell fast.
”Y/N!” Right before you hit the tub, Luffy’s arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you safely back inside. “That was close!”
You froze in place, heart in your throat both from the fall and from your new position. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around your torso. He could clearly feel your chest against his rubbery arms. You gaped at him, wide-eyed in shock. Luffy smiled. Then he squeezed you again and frowned. Slowly, he looked down at your chest, then down even further.
”WHAT?!” Luffy yelled in shock, his eyes bugging out. “Y/N got attacked by Iva?! But when did you meet him?!”
You facepalmed hard.You’d heard about Ivankov through Luffy’s stories, so you had an idea of what he was talking about. But he missed the mark so hard it was astonishing.
Luffy quickly unwound his arms from around you and covered his face, stammering. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I had no idea!”  
Even though your own face was hot, you couldn’t help but start to laugh, though it was a bit nervous. As you carefully exited the tub, toweling off and pulling on a robe, you contemplated letting Luffy go on believing you were attacked by Iva. But then you would have to make up a story about meeting him, and lying to your bright-eyed captain seemed wrong. He meant well, after all.
Maybe this whole charade was unfair to him. Luffy couldn’t hold onto a secret to save his life anyway, so once he knew, the whole crew would know too. Still…though it would be a big change for you, it would be one less thing to worry about…
You draped your towel along the edge of the tub and perched on it, crossing your arms. “What did we learn about respecting people’s privacy?”
”I’m sorry,” Luffy said, peeking through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I didn’t know you had a reason…I won’t do it again! But when did you cross paths with Iva? During the two years I was away?”
”No, Luffy. I’ve never met Ivankov.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ve been a girl this whole time. I was just pretending to be male.”
”Whaaat!? Really?” Luffy’s eyes bugged out at you again. “But why?”
You did your best to explain your reasons. Luffy only seemed to grow more confused as you went on, crossing his arms and tilting his head.
”I don’t get it. Nami and Robin are strong,” he said.
“Never said they weren’t,��� you replied patiently. “But Nami and Robin get underestimated constantly. Maybe they’re used to it, but I can’t stomach the idea. It’s insulting.”
“Hmm…” Luffy thought for a second. “Does this mean we can’t wrestle anymore?”
“Of course we can! The whole point is that I don’t want you to treat me differently!”
“Oh… Oh! I see!” Luffy said, his eyes lighting up with realization. “Okay then! I’ll whoop your butt like normal!”
A warm feeling filled your chest, and you smiled. Now he was catching on, and he didn’t seem to mind. The relief was almost dizzying.
You asked Luffy to try to keep it a secret for now.
He lasted about three weeks, until he asked you one day, point-blank in front of the others: “Hey, Y/N? Where do your boobs go when you get dressed?”
Zoro
“Behind you!”
Zoro’s shout made you whirl around, raising your weapon, but your opponent was already on the downswing. Their sword cut your chest open from clavicle to rib. Pain sizzled out from the gash, hot and burning, but in addition to that, you could feel that your binder was damaged, freeing your breasts. You grit your teeth through the pain and managed to strike your foe down. Then you hunched over yourself, arms crossed over your chest, quivering. The warm blood on your arms told you this one might be serious, but despite the wound, all that was on your mind was getting found out.
Zoro rushed to your side, mowing down foes as he went until he was there. “Did they get you? Let me see.” But you shook your head. “Let me see!” he insisted, an edge of panic to his voice as blood dripped onto the ground below you.
You looked up at him with visible fear, which he misunderstood. “You’re going to be okay, but you have got to let me see.”
Shaking, you lowered your arms, revealing your wound and your secret all at once.
Zoro’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Then he snapped out of it, hurriedly taking off his shirt and wrapping it around your torso. He picked you up, one arm supporting your bottom while the other tucked you against his chest to hide your front. You pressed your face into his shoulder, discomposed from the shock of the injury and from the sudden reveal.
What would he think of you now? All the times you arm wrestled, all the times you sparred, all the drinking contests and shared conversations and shared fights–would you never experience them again? You kept asking yourself those questions as Zoro took you out of the slowing battle.
Chopper was shocked, but promised to keep your secret. However, after he found out that you’d been binding your chest with bandages almost 24-7, he scolded you harshly, going on about how you could permanently damage your body.
At your request, Zoro’s the only one Chopper let visit you in the ship’s infirmary. For a while, Zoro didn’t say anything, just stared at your bandaged chest with an unreadable expression.
“I wanted you to respect me,” you said, breaking the silence. He didn’t respond. “I could never be your equal otherwise. Please understand.”
Zoro looked down at you and gave a heavy sigh, eyes distant for a moment. “...You remind me of someone I used to know.” He sat on the edge of your bed, some softness to his gaze now. “I get it. I get why you hid this. But you’re an idiot.”
”I know. I let myself get hurt.”
”No, dummy. Because you treated the crew like we wouldn’t understand. You didn’t trust us. It makes sense in the beginning, but after all these years?” He frowned at you, and you realize that deep down, he was hurt.
”I didn’t want anything to change between us.” You looked away, ashamed. “Between you and me.”
”It doesn’t have to.”
”You don’t like to fight women.”
Zoro grimaced at the accusation, knowing you’re right. The infirmary was quiet for a minute.
”I’m sorry,” Zoro finally said. “I’ll…I’ll do better. Nothing has to change.” He paused, and offered up a smirk. “After all, I go easy on you anyways.”
You feel yourself tear up at his acceptance, and grinned back at him. “Once I heal up, I’ll make you regret that.” You paused, face falling. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I don’t want Sanji to…you know.”
“Yeah.” Zoro made a face at the cook’s name. ”It’ll stay between the three of us,” he promised. “I still think you should tell them, but it’s not my secret to share.”
”Maybe in time. I’ll have to think about it,” you said, and he nodded.
Zoro held out his hand. You clasped it in a big swing, grimacing when it made your wound sting, and squeezed as tightly as you could.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Zoro said, squeezing back. “Okay? We’re still buds.”
”Okay.” Again, you felt the tears threatening to spill.
”But if you cry, I’ll make fun of you.”
”Shut up!”
Once Zoro realizes you were hindered by the binder for all of your matches against him, he got fired up. All the times he won, you had a handicap–it wasn’t a fair match, he decided. However, there wasn’t really a place on the ship where you could take it off in front of others, so he was forced to remain undecided on the topic of which one of you is stronger.
It wasn’t until you revealed your secret to the others that you and Zoro finally got to have a proper, no-holds-barred sparring session. True to his word, he didn’t hold back, too battle-hungry to care if he touched your chest when you wrestled or exchanged blows. (Sanji snarled in the background, but neither of you were paying him any attention.)
As it turned out, when you let your aching ribs heal and could breathe properly, you were far better than you were before. You ended up almost defeating the swordsman, and he was so proud of you that he threw an arm around your shoulders and noogied your head until you were certain he left track marks in your skull. “That’s my girl!”
Sanji
The impact of your sword against your opponent’s knocked the weapons out of the both of your hands. Undeterred, you dashed forward to take them on barehanded, confident in your unarmed strength. Right as you reached them, they drew a hidden flintlock from their back belt, and touched the muzzle to your forehead.
You froze. The battlefield seemed to fade away, nothing solid or corporeal except for the gun to your head. You couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears, feel anything but the cold steel pressed to your skull. Everything rushed through your head in one synaptic burst, a thousand million thoughts of how soon, how final this was. All the years of adventure, ending here. One slip-up. You were going to die.
You couldn’t even feel regret. Just the sensation of your heart beating as if it was in every blood vessel. You didn’t hear the call of your name, nor the shouted “Diable Jambe!”
In the time it took for your opponent to squeeze his trigger finger, Sanji appeared seemingly out of nowhere and kicked the guy’s hand so hard you saw it break. The gun fired into the ground a few feet away from you, and with another burning kick, Sanji knocked him out.
You were in shock, standing there unharmed, but useless. Sanji took notice, calling for you again. When you didn’t respond, he rushed to you and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. “Get it together! We still need you!”
Suddenly the sound, the sensation, everything came rushing back, hitting you all at once. You blinked, glanced at the surrounding battle, then at Sanji’s tense expression.
“Y/N!”
“I’m okay!” you said. “T-Thanks. I’m okay.” With that, you rushed for your fallen sword, ready to rejoin the battle.
It wasn’t your first brush with death, but this one rattled you worse than the others. After the battle you dwelled on it constantly, thinking back to that moment and breaking out into a cold sweat even though you’d just cleaned up. You couldn’t think about anything else, focus on anything going on around you. You skipped dinner, stomach too upset to eat, and were barely able to sleep despite your exhaustion from the day’s battle. You skipped breakfast the following day, and only around lunchtime did your mind seem to catch up to your body. You watched Luffy and the crew mess around, playing and laughing and arguing, and suddenly you realized that you almost lost this forever. Immediately, the urge to cry overtook you with tremendous force. You hurried through the ship’s interior, shoved yourself into a corner, and sobbed into your hands.
Dead. Oh god, you were almost dead. How was it that easy? All the strength you had worked so hard to build, meaningless. How could you have been so overconfident? How could you have let yourself lose so easily? Had Sanji not been there, you would have been gone. Gone.
The tears ran hot down your cheeks, and you bit your tongue to keep from being loud. It could have gone so much worse. Sanji was dependable, but tended to keep his eye on the girls during fights. He only saved you because you were close by. It was sheer luck that he saved you. Only luck.
“Y/N!”
Sanji’s call of your name made you go quiet. You resisted the urge to sniffle, even as your nose ran. If he found you…it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you’d rather not be caught crying. You spent years building the image of the stoic, masculine fighter, and would prefer to keep up that appearance. Sanji called you again, closer this time, and you cleared your throat.
“Yeah?” you called out.
“Lunch is ready, so hurry on down,” he announced from the doorway, just out of your vision.
It took you a minute to gather yourself, but after washing your face and regulating your breathing, you were ready to rejoin the group once more.
In the weeks following, you dealt with your shock and processed it the best that you could. Eventually you started sleeping better again, your appetite returned, and life seemed to go on as normal…except for one thing: Sanji. He started acting strangely when he was nearby.
It started off small. He was far more pleasant around you than he normally was. Not that you and Sanji held animosity toward each other, but usually he treated you like another male: friendly enough if you weren’t Zoro, but not to this degree. He never really brightened up at the sight of you before. Nor did he ask for your opinion in his upcoming meal plan for the week. At first you chalked it up to him noticing your earlier distress somehow, but after you got better, he kept on acting saccharine.
One day, he brought you a drink. Not served you at the table with everyone else, but went out of his way to bring it to where you were sunbathing on the deck. You could only stare at him until he awkwardly left it by your side, stammered something about the heat, and then left.
Incidents like that kept happening, usually out of sight of the other crewmates, but not always. The others started picking up on it too. At one point, Sanji brought Robin, Nami, and Chopper slices of cake–and then brought you a plate as well. That time, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Sanji pretended like nothing was off.
When he chirped “Hi, Y/N-chan,” to you as he passed by you in the hall, you had enough. You grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. He immediately knew he messed up, but despite your fingers fisted in his collar and your murderous expression, he only flushed red.
“What are you doing?” you hissed.
“I–I’m–” Sanji stammered. Blood started to run from one of his nostrils.
“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded. “Being all sappy and disgusting to me. Who do you think I am?”
“I–I’m sorry,” Sanji tried. You grit your teeth, beginning to fear the worst.
“Did you lose all respect for me when you saved my life?” you asked bluntly.
“Of course not! I think highly of you.”
“Too much so, don’t you think?” you had to struggle not to shout. “Is this because you heard me crying last month?”
Sanji shut his mouth, glancing aside and giving away the answer. He nodded.
“Am I weak to you or something?”
“No, that’s not it–” he tried, but you pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it.
“I don’t understand! You’re too soft with me. Why are you treating me so nicely?”
“Because you’re a woman, and women deserve the best.” He said it unflinchingly and with conviction, looking right back into your eyes.
The answer was obvious, but a part of you still hoped it was something else, hoped that because he didn’t go overboard with his affections that he didn’t know. Your grip on his collar weakened and gave away along with your hopes, hands hanging limply at your sides.
“When did you find out?” you asked quietly. “Or should I say, how?”
“I saw you crying.” Sanji pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his nose.
“So?”
“You may look and act like a man…but a woman’s tears leave no room for doubts.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Unfair. That’s what this was. Just unfair. Because after all those years living as a male, you got found out because of Sanji’s freakish sixth sense for women. Your sigh was heavy, and you had to rest your head in your hand for a moment.
“Okay, well, we need to set some things straight. You can’t keep slipping up around me, or the others will find out. They already suspect something’s up.”
“I'm trying!” Sanji retorted. “I knew you were hiding it for some reason, so I tried to keep myself in check! Do you know how hard it’s been?”
“How hard it’s been?” You wanted to punch him. “You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep up appearances! Just to earn the regard I deserve! Why couldn't you respect me as a man?”
“I don't respect men.”
“Ugh!” You punched the wall by his head instead. Sanji didn’t flinch. “You have to take me seriously.”
“I am!”
“We can’t keep going like this.” You bit your lip in frustration, trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could use his weird complex around women to your advantage, if he would just stop giving it away. “Okay, listen. Sanji. If you really want to do me a favor, the best thing you can do is help me keep my secret. That means whenever you have the urge to treat me like a girl, you nip it in the bud. Can you do that?”
“I…I’ll try.” Sanji went to take your hand, but you yanked it away.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You can’t be so familiar.”
“I’m sorry. It’s hard! I–I want to treat you right. I want to be close to you.”
“I want to be close to you to,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “But I. I’d… I’d rather hold onto my secret.”
He looked hurt, which sent a cold pang of guilt into your stomach. Reaching out, you patted his shoulder. “I’m depending on you, do you understand?”
Sanji took in your expression–serious, worried, uncertain–and nodded. The hand that reached for yours instead went over his heart. “I promise,” he said, “I will do everything I can to help keep your secret.”
The talk with Sanji helped massively, fixing his odd behavior around you for the most part. There was one thing he couldn’t give up, and that was giving you a nickname. He called you something in French–“mon petit chou,” he would say–but as it was foreign, you figured it was safe to use around the crew, and let it slide.
It was only a few months later that you learned Robin was fluent in French.
502 notes · View notes
feverdreamjohnny · 10 months
Text
The Epitaph of Anything Goes
Tumblr media
I decided that this morning I would talk about The Museum of Anything Goes and the subject of lost media.
For the uninitiated, The Museum of Anything Goes is an obscure "game" released in 1995 by Wayzata Technologies, a company that is so far under the radar that I was unable to find any useful information about it outside of TMoAG.
All I could uncover is that they published a few multimedia projects (which are essentially lost now) alongside some asset discs (clipart, SFX, etc.). That's it.
The brains behind Wayzata are even more difficult to locate these days: there are only two main names credited inside of TMoAG - Michael Markowski and Maxwell S. Robertson.
The game alleges that Michael and Maxwell are well known in the art world, but any additional information about the duo is scarce beyond the confines of the museum. Attempting to search for either name online turns up plenty of rabbit holes - but none of them have anything to do with the Michael and Maxwell responsible for TMoAG.
Tumblr media
This is particularly fascinating because it essentially means that TMoAG is the only accessible record of their lives. Before we dig any deeper into that statement, let me step back and actually address what this game is.
The Museum of Anything Goes is, by definition, a virtual art museum. Functionally it's a prerendered point-and-click adventure game where you can explore a bunch of multimedia exhibits that give the surface-level impression of a children's edutainment game, but once you start exploring further it reveals a side that firmly plants the game's feet into a haze of substance abuse and surreal humor.
Tumblr media
Many exhibits are essentially just toying around with the astonishing new powers of CD-ROM. Everything has to make noise. Everything has to spin and flitter around. There's an air of genuine excitement for the medium, and I can't help but find it extremely charming.
The game also functions as a scrapbook, filled to the brim with photos of random trips to the zoo and snow-mobile rides with friends. At one point we even get insight into something as specific as Michael's one-year job as a tutor at a Chicago middle school, where he talks about how it opened his eyes to how poorly funded and mismanaged the school system is.
It's simultaneously quaint and chilling to see so much personal history packed into a world doomed to obscurity. As I explore the deeper parts of the museum, I contemplate if the creators are still alive today. It's a bit morbid, but imagine that - you create a single obscure game with your friend and it's all the world can see. TMoAG is currently the only surviving piece that gives any insight into who these two men were.
Tumblr media
While many exhibits are lighthearted or nonsensical, there are occasional moments where the game dips into the eerie.
One exhibit has the player kill a man by dropping him from the sky, and after burying him you open the coffin to a video of a rotting pig carcass being put into an incinerator.
Other exhibits just feature simple 3D renders shifting around a dark screen while haunting groans play in the background.
While I would never refer to the game as "scary," its darker moments combined with the occasional mature subject matter definitely begs the question: Who is this game for?
You have to remember that this game came out long before the concept of "alt-games" had become codified in the digital space. Sure, unconventional digital art had been around before the advent of 256 colors, but TMoAG was being sold on disk as a game! It came out 2 years after DOOM hit shelves!
The trend of using the PC for entertainment was certainly on the upswing around that time, but It's not like TMoAG had a massive audience to find a niche in. With its mature themes it certainly wasn't suited for the kids market either, so who was it for?
Tumblr media
At the end of the day, it's a moot question. We already know the target audience for The Museum of Anything Goes: Nobody. It doesn't have an audience because by its nature, TMoAG wasn't being made FOR someone, it was being made BY someone. It's a raw, unfiltered form of personal expression.
I think games like these are pivotal, because they question why people assume a game has to exist for the sake of being a consumable product. TMoAG certainly has the shape of a product: it features an intro cutscene, it has a tutorial, it features intuitive UX, it even has a map! These are all features that are solely integrated to provide comfort to an end-user. But once you actually wander around the museum for a bit, you realize how bizarrely its packaging fits its contents.
Tumblr media
I think TMoAG is criminally underrated. It's not because its core content contains some earth-shaking truth, it's because the game defied all odds and cheated death.
How many thousands of other personal projects were deemed a little "too exotic" to be archived? How much history was lost these past 40 years as the digital space evolved and ate its old skin?
God knows how many other TMoAGs we'll never learn about because they weren't lucky enough to be preserved.
The Museum of Anything Goes isn't just some nonsensical art piece, it's a grave marker for so much lost media. Its existence is a reminder that some people's lives were fossilized, then macerated into nothing because a construction company built a skyscraper over them. The only evidence we have of those other games existing is this little fossil that somehow slipped out from under the skyscraper unscathed.
Even though so much has been lost, TMoAG survives as an epitaph.
1K notes · View notes
dearestaussiechannie · 11 months
Text
♡ Giggle Box ♡ — Bang Chan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
word count: 1.3k paring: Chan x reader genre: fluff warnings: gender not specified!reader, established relationship, mentions other members, heavy fluff, comfort, if I left anything out lmk Authors note: This was inspired by a tweet that I saw that said "the most devastating thing about being a Chan stan is living with the knowledge that he probably giggles into kisses." and I took that PERSONALLY. So, from one Chan stan to another, stay strong.
Tumblr media
You'd been out with your boyfriend and his friends all day so there wasn't really much of a chance for you and Chan to be “intimate”. The most physical contact the two of you had shared throughout the day was mostly side hugs, laying his head on your shoulder, brushing his hand against yours or just simple things like wiping something off of his face. It was starting to drive you absolutely insane. No Chan kisses? All day? Were you suddenly placed in jail?
Currently, you're all at lunch. Some random place that Felix had picked out that he saw while he was out alone the other day. Everyone was talking with Minho and Han bickering about something, Seungmin and I.N trying to figure out when they wanted to eat, Felix was showing Changbin the new things he'd gotten on Genshin, which just left you and Chan in what felt like your own little world.
You were looking over the menu, humming softly to yourself when you felt something brush against your leg. Looking down, you could see his leg pressed against yours and his fingers gently playing with the strings in the holes of your ripped pants. Since you didn't think much of it, you slowly shifted your attention back to the menu. Once you do though, you miss the sight of him starting to pout.
Some time has now gone by, all of the boys around you now much quieter than before as they were eating. Some still held conversations, the topic had shifted to the food, occasionally feeding your opinion in as well. Chan on the other hand, he's being extremely quiet. You try your best to include him in the conversation but he would just look at you, agree to whatever you had said before going back to his food. While doing this though, his fingers kept playing with the strings.
Once lunch was over and everyone was safely back to the dorms, everyone decided to part ways for a little while and get some work done or do whatever they wanted. This meant you were finally alone with Chan but he also wanted to get some work done so he buried himself into his laptop. You really did admire him for his dedication to his music, if there was a track that needed anything done, he was the first person to try to fix it. Constant late nights of him making an entire beat from scratch just for him to have lyrics ready the next day was amazing.
This time however, his attention wasn't fully there. The sounds of his fingers against the keys of his laptop, small sounds escaping his headphones when he would adjust them or the chair creaking as he swiveled in it were filling the room as you laid on his bed, humming softly to yourself. You looked away from your phone for a moment to check on him, shocked when your eyes were met by his, only for him to look away as soon as you'd caught him. Deciding to brush it off, you walk over and put a fresh bottle of water on his desk, kissing his cheek. 
Once you're turned to walk back over to his bed, you hear a small giggle. The way a simple sound can make a smile creep onto your face is astonishing. Crawling back into the bed, you look in his direction only to be met by those big brown eyes again just from them to rip away. “Channie? Is everything alright?” You ask him, a little concerned since he wasn’t focused like he usually would be, but a simple nod is all you get as a response.
An hour has now passed and you are currently sitting beside him at his desk as you read over the lyrics that he's written since he'd asked you to look over them and see if there is any better wording way that could flow smoother. When he needs help with this, you're usually the first person he asks so that he doesn't have to bother Minho or Han. His head was currently resting against your shoulder, taking in deep breaths as if he were trying to inhale you. “You could change this, I think it might flow smoother.” you tell him, using the pink pen he always gives you when he needs your help so that he can differentiate who wrote what better when he's letting others read over it as well.
You go through and put small hearts by certain parts that you think are good and he shouldn't change, making him giggle again when he pulls away to look at his notebook. There's that sound again, the one that makes all of the butterflies on earth suddenly race into your stomach. You look over at him, seeing a smile on his face and his fingers tracing over the little hearts you've drawn for him before suddenly kissing his cheek. There it is again, you can't help your next movements, wanting to hear more. Quickly, you turn his chair to face you, looking over his face for a moment before you start pressing your lips all over his face. Not a spot left untouched less than once, you kiss both his cheeks, the tip and bridge of his nose, his forehead, temples and chin, repeating over and over as his giggle turns into a full laugh. Now, you can't help but laugh with him, holding tightly onto his shoulders.
“You're so cute I swear I could just eat you up! Your rosy cheeks, your nose, your soft lips, your head where that big brain of yours calls home.. All of it. You're so handsome it kills me!” You say to him, hand clutching your chest while watching as his cheeks turn from a soft rose color to a shade of red. His hands quickly try to hide his face, but you're faster. Your hands land on his and bring them into yours, locking your fingers as you keep kissing his face, leaving out his lips on purpose.
This goes on for a few minutes until you're both laughing so hard your stomachs hurt. You both calm down for a moment before he's looking at you with a pout, hands holding onto yours tightly. “You um.. said my lips but you haven't kissed them once since we've been home…” His words come out as a whisper, unsure if he wanted you to hear them. This makes you lean closer to him, looking him in the eyes before glancing down at his lips.
“Oh.. you mean the soft pink ones in front of me right now?” Your question making him nervous for some reason, as if he's never kissed you before even though you have over a hundred times by now. All he can answer you with is a nod before you lean in and gently kiss him hearing him giggle, “I” another kiss and giggle, “Love” another, “you” another “SO much!” you say giving him a final kiss. He looks at you, eyes squinted from how big he's smiling before pulling you into a tight hug, feeling so lucky to have someone like you by his side. 
“You know, I never realized how much I like hearing you giggle when I kiss you until now.” You say to him, drawing small circles over his knuckles, pressing your forehead against his softly. “I didn't know I did it until now, honestly.. You just make me so.. giddy..” He responds before pulling you closer to him. This makes your heart beat faster, hands resting against his chest, moving your forehead away from his so that you can look over his face with a smile. This man will forever be your giggle box and you couldn't be happier.
Tumblr media
©️ dearestaussiechannie, all rights reserved.
Taglist: (to be added, comment or message me♡)
2K notes · View notes