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ffsg0jo · 2 days

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same universe as this post. you don't have to read it beforehand, but it helps 🤭

even when yuuji's much older and has his own room, he's still woken up by sukuna's old man noises™ in the bathroom at 7am.

the poor, almost adult just wants to sleep in for a little longer and rest his weary bones, but sukuna's snorting and coughing and hacking his life out in the bathroom down the hall.

yuuji doesn't know how you do it, to be honest. between the snoring and old man-isms, the way he seems to have a permanent frown on his face. you've been by his uncle's side for as long as he can remember, acting as a mother figure to yuuji. always patient and caring, standing your ground against sukuna who can be bull-headed sometimes (a lot of times), and ultimately doing everything you can for the little family they've created.

he truthfully doesn't remember life without you, and quite frankly, he doesn't want to remember. ever since he was a toddler, you were his sun, yuuji your sunflower, absorbing your warmth and love.

you stayed by their side throughout everything; the ups, the downs, the twisty turvies. never once have you tried to replace his biological mum or even referred to yourself as his mother. but yuuji sees the way your eyes shine with pride and joy when looking at him.

he can see it in your face now as he walks into the kitchen, yawning. you notice him immediately while plating up everyone’s breakfast and attempting to escape sukuna's embrace, who's clinging onto your back like the leech he is.

“dammit woman, just let me hold you,” he growls, tightening him arms around you and kissing up and down your neck.

“sukuna,” you gasp, “not in front of yuuji!”

the giant of a man slowly lifts his face up from your neck and turns to side-eye yuuji. he lets go of you and sighs, grabbing the plates you’ve prepared, setting them on the table.

“mornin’ brat, sleep well?” he asks yuuji.

“not with all your snoring, he didn’t.” yuuji laughs at your response.

“i don’t snore woman.”

you and yuuji share a look, completely in disbelief at the man’s denial. he’s woken himself up with how loud he is, many, many times. neither of you can believe he has the audacity to stand there and lie with a straight face.

you both scoff and yuuji sits down at the table, in no mood to deal with his uncle’s nonsense this early in the morning. you move towards yuuji planting a soft kiss on his cheek and ruffling his hair.

“sorry he woke you up yuuji,” you say warmly, kissing him once more.

“if anything i should be apologising to you, you’re the one that has to put up with him for the rest of your life,” the boy responds, looking up at you solemnly, genuinely sorry for you.

“i can hear ya both,” sukuna rumbles, mouth full of egg. “anyways, finish eating and make sure you’re ready by 10”

yuuji turns to you in confusion, and sees your face light up, practically buzzing with excitement.

“where we going?” yuuji asks

you wrap your arms around him tighter and press his cheek onto yours. he basks in your affection and leans impossibly closer towards you.

“it’s a surprise,” you giggle.

yuuji’s face twists in confusion as he stares at the shiny, brand-new motorbike in front of him. it was beautiful, and he’s always dreamed of having that exact model, but he was confused at to why they were there at the dealership. is this some cruel joke? he looks at you though, and shakes the thought out of his head. you would never do that to him.

“you like it, yuuji,” you ask, a broad smile on your face, eyes shining with glee.

“s’ beautiful,” he nods in response.

his uncle pats his back and lifts his hand up, his own tattooed hand pressing something sharp and chunky into his palm. yuuji looks down and sees… keys?

“she’s all yours,” sukuna smirks, revelling in the disbelief on yuuji’s face. he seems to be frozen for a good 20 seconds, just processing what he’s heard. you and your husband share a smile. it suddenly hits yuuji that the motobike is all his, and his face splits into the widest grin.

“i love you both so much” he whispers, tearing up and throwing himself into sukuna’s arms and an arm around your neck.

the man steadies himself as you both tumble into him, heart suddenly panging at how big his nephew has gotten. it seemed like only yesterday when he was barely up to his shins, and now he was eye level?

sukuna hides his teary smile in yuuji’s hair, tightening one arm around you and softly rubbing his nephews back with his hand.

“yeah yeah, love ya too brat.”

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aimasup · 2 days

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THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS EPISODE 2 THOUGHTS AND SPOILERS

The warbling effect in the beginning perfectly encapsulates what it's like to try and move in a dream.

the colours behind the eyes (we only remember the last moments of our dreams when we are about to wake up, everything before that is mostly a vague blur)

And the floors shifting without your permission? Super accurate

Hey half the fandom how does it feel to be right about Ragatha and Pomni's dynamic post-pilot

CAINE MY LOVE

Bubble never change

ZOOBLE APPEARANCE

are they actually gonna change looks every episode if so yes please

Caine with a pipe <3<3

The humour is fantastic as always (the mannequin that pushed Gangle over made me chuckle)

Pomni might have been a gamer, she seems critical of the experience but only as someone who wants to engage

Ragatha being the diplomatic face man while Jax is the wild card negotiator, what a duo! Charming in their own ways! maybe Pomni could be the relatable third that is a grounding force

Kinger is a lot more involved with the adventure than we thought he would be! He isn't as terrified or absent as imagined, he's genuinely enthusiastic (it's kind of sad)

When the gators started talking about the village and the mom, dread crept up on me: Caine's intricately powerful

the stained glass window is darkly funny though ajskwjsks

Gangle you freak?? /pos You are moving up the ranks for me

It's great that Jax isn't just a "chaotic bad boy" type, I can see why Zooble takes any chance they get to strangle him (hate him, love his character)

Gummigoo's revelation was heartbreaking thanks

was Pomni depressed? Does she remember being depressed? Aghh so many headcanons rn about her life

can we get a shoutout to the Raggedy Ann movie references and the adorable gator goons

Kinger giving advice and saying "I remember how long it etc etc" whilst his head is bucketed has such warm?? vibes??

Ragatha holding her skirt to wade through the chocolate <3<3<3

I love that the chocolate doesn't stick to anything, I love that Princess Loo is slightly uncanny, I love that they use the glitches of the assets to move the story forward, I love the game world that works within the 3d animation well <3<3

Has Caine killed a human by mistake? With a snap of his finger? Or did he snap his fingers to delete them but it didn't instantly take them out and they abstracted...

The funeral was unexpected, it's nice that Caine gives them time off to do whatever

The idea that you will be missed if you disappear.,,.

Gooseworx wasn't lying this really is the depression episode (and it's still Pomni focused! Hooray!!)

OKAY BUT CONSIDER. RAGATHA BEING THE NERVOUS DESPERATE ONE IN BUTTONBLOSSOM.

sobs the plushies I want them all

#my post #personal stuff #tadc #the amazing digital circus

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admirxation · 20 hours

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彡 Secret - Leon Kennedy

father in law!Leon Kennedy x daughter in law!afab!reader | 18+ | 3.5k | oneshot

synopsis — Your husband goes on another business trip, an excellent time for you to seek affection with his father.

contents — 18+ heavy smut mdni, pseudo-incest (in-laws), cheating, slight hair pulling, thigh touching, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), tit play, unprotected sex (p in v), breeding kink, possessiveness (a little), and creampie // I do not condone everything I write, this is just fiction if you don’t like don’t read. Read the warnings and continue at our own discretion. I’ve provided ample warning.

tags: @mrswint3rs @elfven-blog (please check the taglist in my pinned post if you want to be tagged in future works)

The essence of secrecy lies in its concealed nature; it is meant to evade the awareness of others in confidence between only a select few, often confined to a mere duo. The revelation of this can imperialise many involved. However, the enigmatic nature of maintaining a secret is undeniably captivating; it entices individuals to guard and preserve its sanctity. The prospect of clandestine knowledge imparts a sense of thrill; it can keep the individual’s heart pumping with adrenaline each second that goes past, and each day, it finds another day to survive between the knowing. Yet, beneath that surface of excitement, the weight of culpability lingers, a moral unease inherent in the act of concealment, the feeling of guilt inhabiting the consciousness of the one keeping it, especially with the amount of gravity certain secrets have—like the one you were holding with Leon.

When you first sought comfort with your father-in-law, you thought this was going to be a one-time moment of weakness, a feeling that it was just happening through the disconnect with your husband, a moment of letting your desires warp your mind and your morals—but this soon escalated into ‘one time’ being apart of continuous routine. Tiptoeing into his room, sneaking away when your husband was at work, betraying your vows, those sacred words that shouldn’t be tarnished for a few moments of fun, but you were indulging in breaking those promises every moment you lied in Leon’s arms, every moment you let his form engulf you in its shadow, every moment you pressed your arms around him and left sweet kisses on his skin.

When you wrapped yourself up in a blanket next to your husband, there was a phantom feeling of something tugging at your heart, like a hand squeezing and pulling at it, pushing down into the form of a cold spike feeling travelling down into the pit of your stomach whenever you pictured the inevitable moment when your husband would find out; you weren’t completely stupid, you knew that this would all come out sooner or later, especially with the fact that you were cheating with your husbands father. This wasn’t some secret or tall tale that you could take to the grave with you; no, this was something that needed to be known; it was starting to become more than just bodily fulfilment with another; there was a connection in your betrayal, an emotional one that whenever you parted from his presence you craved to be back into it, and not just through lust, through romantic interest like you formerly had with your husband. The feeling of guilt was only natural when these affairs were starting. Still, it all started to melt away when your husband reciprocated the distance, as well as the infidelity you were providing in the relationship.

There has always been a lack of chemistry and connection within the relationship; when you first met each other in college, it started as a casual sexual relationship, meeting each other whenever your roommates were gone and finding some late-night indulgences. Then it rolled into something more serious. It was all a blur now; you remember a casual to serious relationship shift; you noticed this when you first met his father. You always thought he was attractive, but you never thought he would be the person you wanted to be with. You felt trapped in this relationship. Granted, your husband never pushed you into that decision, but you felt dependent on him for what he provided, all the benefits he gave you, and even pulled you up in the ranks of your job position; you did owe a lot to him. However, this lack of connection was always found in his wandering eye.

He always had a wandering eye for every woman who passed but never acted on it…until now.

You never blamed him or felt betrayed, hell you didn’t even cry or wince in reaction when you were met with the vision of the text messages he shared with his secretary; you just turned the phone off and pretended to be the innocent wife, oblivious to it all; but when you saw those messages, you could only feel… relief? Relief that you weren’t hurting someone in love with you anymore, relief that both of you were aware of this trapped marriage. You were hoping this affair would be the trigger to make him throw the divorce papers in your face, something you were too cowardly to do.

You were waving off your partner for another business trip; it made you laugh when he would always make up some extravagant lie, always bringing up names to make his lie seem more believable; of course, you always knew when he was lying, he would never maintain eye contact, and whenever you asked who was going, you saw his eyes widen and look around the room trying to remember what he fabricated a few days earlier. If anything, you admired how far he would go. Sometimes, you wondered if he was just doing this to spite you for sleeping with his father, but you didn’t care; you just wanted him gone longer so you could spend time with Leon.

When telling Leon this, he laughed at how his son was trying to make things even, though he knew his son was awful at covering his tracks; after all, he had known him all his life; he knew what his son was capable and incapable of. When learning the information that your son is cheating on their wife, it arranges multiple reactions. Some people simply do not care, and some even blame the wives. Others will be shocked at their son's behaviour, knowing they didn’t raise him like this and will be there for their daughter-in-law. But Leon, oh, Leon intensely disliked how his son never fully appreciated you. He was also glad that his weak ability to be a husband granted him the opportunity to give the woman whom he couldn’t stop thinking about the attention she deserved. When learning of another business trip his son was going on, he just smirked when hearing your tempting words through the phone, knowing exactly what you were planning and insinuating.

“He can spend all the time he wants with… Whatever her name is… Now, come to mine; I know you’re free.”

When you heard those words on the phone, you were quick to leave your house, locking the door and jumping into your car for a few-minute journey to him; you felt your heart flutter and jump within your chest every time the tyre rolled further to your destination, every turn and bend you had on the road, all of it adding to that feeling of impatience whenever you were stopped by traffic.

You didn’t have to knock; you already had a key to make your way whenever you wanted to, whenever you wanted a late-night roll around when your husband was in a night of deep sleep or having ‘overtime’ at work. You made your way to the staircase and ascended into his room.

Leon was sitting at his desk, working alone. It was clear that he was probably waiting for you to come a bit later, considering this time of day harboured the most traffic.

He greeted you with a smile, dropping his pen and looking you up and down under his scrutiny; you felt undressed under his gaze with those longing and erotic states; the tension between you two was undeniable every time you were together, all those pent up desires every time you couldn’t be together all bursted within an explosion of desire whenever people were out of the picture. You could fulfil everything you two thought of. When no one was around, his house was the realm where the secret wasn’t something to hide, but something accepted between you two, something loved by you two.

You pushed away his work to one side, positioning yourself in between his legs before pushing yourself up to the table, feeling a jolt course through your body when you felt Leon’s large hands slide to the sides of your waist, roaming and sliding down to the plush of your thighs, continuing to maintain that lustrous stare that always made you weak whenever looking deeply back into that blue undressing gaze.

“It’s rude to ignore a guest, especially when you invite them, Leon,” you said to him, looking down and watching as he took the free invitation to keep touching you, pushing his hands under the flap of your dress, feeling your soft and smooth skin as he caressed you further; a smirk playing at his lips as he witnessed you subtly parting your legs as he continued to keep touching, providing him with a further invitation.

“True. Especially one that is so beautiful; where are my manners?” he looked up at you as you bent your head forward to meet him, your lips being mere moments away from his, letting that tension arise between the both of you; you leaned in to let him give you a soft and tender kiss, a kiss that slowly increased into further sensual deep interlocks between you two.

He pushed one of his hands to the back of your head, tangling his fingers within the strands of your hair, slightly tugging at it to make you release soft winces; you bit your lip as you two both continued to share erotic eye contact that was already creating a knot within your stomach and made your heartbeat deeper and your breaths deeper. As you were lost in those pools of blue, you expressed a sharp and high-pitched gasp when his fingers led to your clothed core, feeling the tips of his fingers rub circles around, pulling sweet and tender moans from you.

“How long is he gone for?”

“A week,” Leon pushed his fingers with harder pressure as he rubbed your sensitive bud through the wet patch already formed from his long digits.

“Good. A week with me, would you like to stay here, darling? I wouldn’t want you to be lonely,” you could only release a nod as you pressed your lips into a line, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushed his index and middle finger deeper and circulated in a clockwise motion—from just a tiny amount of time he knew what would drive you crazy. “Use your words, sweetheart; I can’t mind read,” he tilted his head to the side as he waited for you to open your mouth.

“Yes, I would, yes I would want that,” you managed to fabricate your chosen words in a breathy release as he quicked his motions, moans wanting to erupt already to replace your words.

“Am I already driving you crazy?” you nodded again, “I love it when you’re easy for me… And only me,” his words were elongated, arousal and stimulation within the way he spoke that made your core flutter in excitement and anticipation, even more so when he wrapped the tip of his finger around the side of your already soaked panties, and slowly pushing them to the side, he wasn’t going to rush this no matter how many times he felt you, he always wanted to savour the feeling of making you his.

He lifted your skirt even further to witness your glistening cunt, feeling your heat as he lingered his fingers around your inner thigh, teasing you even more, not knowing when he was going to draw more moans from you, simply with his fingers.

“Do you want to feel good, sweetheart?” you nodded, looking down and spreading your legs even further, “You’re such a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you? Yet you won’t just leave him.”

You had been thinking of leaving your husband ever since you started this affair with Leon, and he wasn’t going to leave it alone until you were his, not just in bodily and emotional connection, but under the eyes of the law and society, he wanted everyone to know that you were his girl.

“You know it w-won’t be any longer,” your breathing hitched as you waited for Leon’s fingers to creep themselves inside you, feeling a tingle and tightening sensation within your stomach the way he looked at you with those eyes that controlled all your feelings.

He ran his thumb over your soft mouth, his other fingers on his left hand rubbing your wet slit, dragging the tips of his fingers along your soaked cunt. Hearing your heavy breathing, he pulled you back for another kiss, his tongue entering your mouth and swirling and sliding on yours, enjoying every minute and surprised little noise secreted from your mouth, muffled by his kisses. He pushed his long and thick digits inside you, slowly, pulling a long and quiet moan as he bit your bottom lip in between kisses, feeling him slowly pump and curl his fingers as your walls tightened around them.

“Does my dirty girl want more?” he whispered to you in between kisses, “and I expect you to use your manners.” He always loved to have that cocky attitude with you, always loving to have the upper hand, knowing you melted every time you felt his touch, forever in his submission.

“Yes, please, Leon,” you begged.

“Good girl.”

He left one final wet kiss on your lips before pushing his chair away with a harsh kick and letting his face be in front of your pussy, your aching pussy that was craving him all through the journey, that craved him every night and day when you were apart. He kissed lightly at your pussy before enclosing your clit with his lips, interlocking with your wet and soft folds, his tongue lapping and dancing around your sensitive cluster of nerves, continuing to pump his long fingers inside you, circling your bud over and over again in perfect rhythm to pushing his digits further into your throbbing cunt, feeling his cock harden inside his pants every time your taste lingered around in his mouth, every time he took ownership with having fun with you.

“All mine,” he quickly said as he continued to press his face back in between your thighs, his hand massaging your thigh, “I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” you felt him smile against you, his breathing deepening as you continued to moan for him.

“Fuck, Leon-” your back arched as your fingers messed through his blonde locks, tugging and ruffling as your head continued to be kicked back. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let his soft lips continue to be attached to your clit, sucking and circling it, his fingers keeping you on the edge and making your toes curl with each load of erotic sound to fill the room’s atmosphere. Leon loved how much you squirmed as you tensed every muscle in your body when feeling that pleasure course through you at the hands and skill of Leon; you felt a pulsating scream ready to roll through your body as you whined from the stimulation; Leon continued to put you over the edge as he increased the speed and rhythm, setting another catalyst for your first orgasm so he threw his hand on your breast and squeezed it tightly, your skin poking out in the gaps of his fingers, later rolling your hardened nipple with his fingers while hungrily lapping his tongue around your clit, like being indulged into an addictive sweet treat.

“Leon!” you screamed like you always did, and he continued to love hearing those sounds.

Your thighs continue to tighten, your pussy spasming, and Leon’s tongue awaiting as you squeezed your eyes shut and engaged your core, releasing a clear and delicious release into his mouth, inviting Leon to lick up every drop and savouring the flavour only he craved every morning and night. He licked up a strip of your pussy, slowly pulling his fingers away as he watched your chest move up and down in rapid action with your changed breathing patterns.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” he cooed as he licked his lips, watching your face beg for more. Your heart practically leapt when hearing those words, ready for whatever dictation he will provide for you.

He continued to unbutton and drop his pants down, his erection bouncing out and exposing its red blushed tip already leaking with precum from just receiving the taste of you; you moved off the table and were ready to feel him deep inside, but his next words stopped you momentarily.

“Why don’t you just leave him when he comes back… He’s got somebody… And I don’t want us to keep being secretive,” his hands were placed on your hips, you hoovering over him and feeling your heartbeat move at a quicker pace. “I make you feel better than he ever did. Marry me instead. I know that’s what you want, baby,” a blush crept on your cheeks as he continued to rub your sides, putting pressure on you with his touch.

“Hm, sorry for putting you on the spot, let’s resume-”

“Yes. I will. I will leave him for you.”

Leon’s eyes widened; you no longer felt his touch pressure down onto your skin. He stopped there momentarily as if time had frozen within his body clock.

Then that smirk came back. That knowing smirk of him finally getting his way, that smirk revealing he could finally have you and not just as an affair, he wouldn’t want to give a damn what others thought; he finally had you, and having you was all that mattered to him.

“Come here, you,” he growled as he pulled your underwear, his eagerness igniting impatience as he pulled hard enough for the delicate fabric to rip, the threads pulling out in intricate patterns, pulled down to the carpeted floor; you didn’t care as he pulled you and sat you on his lap, feeling his cock push inside your wet, throbbing, squelching cunt as he aggressively thrusted you down on him, hearing the slap of your skin come crashing down on his thighs, erupting another deep moan out of you as you felt his large cock pressed inside and wrapped around your tight and warm walls.

“Fuck. You’re so tight, baby.” You bounced with the help of Leon’s hands tucked underneath your ass and bouncing you on his member, pushing along his length further inside of you as he felt a craving that now belonged to him, “God. You feel amazing,” he continued to hiss as he felt you, his cock continuing to twitch as he heard your continuous gasps and moans.

“Mmm, you’re so good,” you managed to get the words out as his large hands continued to grip your ass, watching his eyes darken with lust and possession as he watched your tits bounce in front of him with every thrust he pumped inside of you.

“Just like that,” you found the perfect rhythm for him, “Umpth, you’re doing so good, baby,” he kicked his head back as you continued bouncing along his length, a red flush engulfing your pretty face, drool collecting at the corners of your mouth as you continued to scream for Leon and watch his perfect frame push inside of you.

You whimpered as he squeezed your ass hard, your walls clenching around his dick even harder and making his desperation to finish inside you grow as you screamed his name again, releasing another loud luscious orgasm that drove Leon crazy with the fact he knew your body so well.

“Cum for me, Leon,” you whispered, “you know I want to feel it. You know I love it,” you continued to push Leon when you saw that look in his eyes, knowing he was close.

“Hmm, god,” he continued to growl as he felt your pussy tighten around him, “Oh sweetheart, I don’t just need a ring to prove to-to everyone you chose the better man… I need to fucking breed that, that perfect pussy,” he couldn’t create a perfect sentence without being interrupted with the odd messing up of words, focusing on trying not to cum until he finally let this words out; the effort to not release inside you was building up, beads of sweat were forming across his forehead and his chest puffed out in deeper breathing.

“Do it then, I’m all yours.”

A glimmer crossed his blue gaze as he pumped his last belligerent thrusts inside of you, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. His face buried in your tits as he released his white and creamy cum inside of your walls, shooting inside of you with desperation, slowly pushing it further inside you, the head of his cock continuing to bash against your cervix as he fucked his seed further inside of you. His actions released a long, drawn-out moan escaping your glossy lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your formerly tense body melted back into relaxation and your breathing becoming laboured as you felt his cum pool inside of you, the rest trickling down your sticky thighs as you tried to catch you breath.

A secret is always fun to keep, but it eventually comes out, whether from being revealed by another or from people no longer being able to keep it inside and wanting the whole world to know.

please remember the best way of supporting writers is by liking and reblogging, i give everyone love who has taken the time of their day to read what i have created, thank you *kiss kiss*.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #father in law!leon kennedy x reader smut #dead dove do not eat #smut #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagine smut #fanfiction #admirxation writes

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astranite · 1 day

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Joy Where We Find It

John and Scott send each other photos of cats they find. It's a love language.

There's so much fluff here. This started with a delightful discussion with the wonderful @edutainer2022:

"Oh, now I think sending cat pics is a John and Scott thing. John is pretty much a human shaped ginger cat. Cat pics are his love language Scott gets and appreciates. Scott sees more live cats planetside on IR rescues and Teacy Industries trips - and snaps cats for John. But Scott is pretty much a cheetah himself- a large lithe cat, built for speed. John gets what many don't about big brother. And sends him cats."

---

Scott crouched down, wiggling his fingers and making clicky noises towards the ball of fluff and whiskers he could see peering at him from beneath the bench, heedless of the other people surrounding him on the sidewalk. If the kitty could just come a little closer, he could snap a picture on his phone before reluctantly making the return journey to back the the office.

He placed his freshly fetched keep cup full of coffee down on the bench, stretching out a hand and reminding himself to wait patiently for the cat to come to him. That was something that had taken him a while to learn until John clued him in. Cats were like John, really, or John was pretty much a human shaped ginger cat: both preferred to be given time to chose to make the approach themselves rather than suddenly having their space invaded, no matter how well meaningly.

Taking the moment was rewarded when the cat curiously peeked out and wandered towards him, tail held up with the tip curled over. It was covered in a delightful mess of ginger, black and white, like a little brother had splodged paint all over it. Scott smothered a laugh. There had been that one time with Virgil and their childhood cat…

Moving slowly, he pulled his phone out of his suit pants pocket and took a photo, flicking it off to John with a smile.

John kicked off the wall of Thunderbird Five’s hub, rippling the holograms beneath his feet. He turned another backwards flip, with a dual purpose of revelling in the sensation of the movement and keeping himself occupied in the lulls between calls.

A new message pinged and he immediately twisted around then dispersed his momentum by delicately colliding with a different wall to read it.

-Scott Tracy: Kitty cat for you Jay!!!!!

The attached image of a calico cat had John grinning.

Before he had a chance to reply, another message came through of a close of of the cat’s whiskered face with Scott’s hand in the frame rubbing around its ears. John could practically hear the contented purring.

-John Tracy: Awwwwww a sweetheart!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, that was exactly the number of exclamation marks he needed to express his joy and make sure Scott knew it.

Overtime, sending pictures of cats back and forth to each other had become one of their things and it delighted them both. It meant they got to share so many moments with each other, even far apart, and it was often the beginning of more conversations, even if they had to happen in five minute bursts between busy moments. It was a way of showing they remembered and cared for and were thinking of the other. A love language all of its own. Plus, cats!

Scott saw more live cats up close because he was planetside on IR rescues and for TI, but when John was down he made up for it with tours of the world’s universities he got to lecture at by their cat populations he befriended.

His brother could be rather cat-like too, more of a large, lithe cheetah built for speed. Or a house moggy with a propensity for climbing the walls and always finding the highest place possible to perch, no matter how impossible it seemed to get to. John shared in that too, they were both often found on the rooftops, stargazing or sunning themselves, with a large hat and extraordinary amounts of sunscreen especially in John’s case, but he wasn’t going to let Scott get cooked either.

On occasion, Scott did also get the mad, dash around the house, hyperactive zoomies of a cat, where he couldn’t possibly sit still. It was always delightful when Scott let himself mess around and lean into it.

One of John’s favourite memories as a kid was of him and Scott curled up together, practically on top of each other in a nest of blankets with books of all sorts and many toy planes within reach. Mum had come in and snapped a photo of them, laughing fondly, “Like cats in a basket!”

He probably had the photo around here somewhere, he’d downloaded a lot of their childhood photos to Five’s memory banks as well as the data storage on the island. He hadn’t seen it in years. With Eos’ help, he found it in a few minutes. He did have to explain to her why he was blinking away tears as they welled up in his eyes as he’d forgotten how he and Scott had been wearing matching blue pyjamas covered in stars because they’d both been going through a phase of wanting to have the exact same things as the other so as to not be left out.

He sent it off to Scott.

-John Tracy: Cat basket :)

Bubbles signifying typing disappeared and reappeared as Scott on the other side of the world figured out what to say. John gave Scott the same patience he gave to him when John was gathering his words for the exact ones he wanted to say.

-Scott Tracy: Next time we are both home? If you want.

-John Tracy: Of course. When you get back, I’ll take the elevator down for the weekend.

He could cuddle up with Scott and take a moment to just be together. It was well past time they did, it always got to this point which they really needed do something about.

Suddenly the only place John wanted to be was curled into Scott’s side, with a good book and maybe some hot chocolate for them both too, surrounded by as many blankets as they could find.

Scott sent through another burst of photos of the cat from before, including a few selfies of it sitting in his lap, snuggled up to him. He was grinning happily and that was worth the world, no matter the cat hair on navy blue suiting nor the coffee that was doubtless half cold and nearly forgotten.

John loved his brother so much. He kicked off another celebratory flip, joy sparking brightly as a glowing star in the centre of his chest.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #thunderfluff #astrawrite

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raineandsky · 1 day

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#114

The last thing the hero remembers is someone shoving them into a white van—and frankly, with a last memory like that, they’re expecting to wake up in a grimy jail, or maybe some weird torture basement.

What they aren’t expecting is to wake up in an actual bed, in an actual room. There’s actual windows, for god’s sake, and unbarred. They woke up ten minutes ago, and spent about six of those minutes revelling in how comfortable the bed is before realising they should at least try to get out.

They're in the midst of fiddling with the latch on the window—conveniently impossible to open, they notice—when the criminal behind this weird situation decides to make an appearance.

“Good to see you awake,” the villain says cheerfully, then, with a little more apprehension, “and on your feet.”

The hero at least has the courtesy to stop trying to break out. “What the hell do you want, [Villain]?”

The villain’s bright smile doesn’t move. They carefully shut the door behind them. “I don’t want anything. I’m doing you a favour.”

From the lavish bed and actual walking space in here, the hero can kind of see that. “I seriously doubt you are doing me a favour.”

“When was the last time you slept in a bed that comfortable?”

A long time ago. The hero can even barely remember. It feels like they’ve always been a hero. Always been a little uncomfortable. “Last night, thank you very much.”

The hum the villain gives that is so disbelieving it’s painful. “I don’t like the agency,” they say after a moment, “and as a result I didn’t like you. I just kind of… bunched you in with them.”

“Well, yeah.” The hero shuffles awkwardly. “Probably because I work for them.”

“But exactly! You know I hate the modern working world.” The villain smiles, like everything is obvious. It’s really not. “I saw you as an equal to the agency, but you’re not, are you? You’re under them.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

The villain’s not done. “You’re on their whim. You’re not an ally to them, you’re a victim.”

There’s a long silence in which the hero tries valiantly to process what the villain just said. “I think you’re a little confused, [Villain], I’m not—”

“When did you last have any free time? Enjoy life? See friends? I bet the agency doesn’t let you have friends.”

“I have friends!”

“Yeah? Who?”

“There’s… heroes.”

“Hm.” The villain smirks. “Only allowed to hang out with people they approve of, then.”

The hero returns that with a scowl. “Look,” the villain continues gently, “you can do a lot better than the agency. You’re better than all of this.��

“I’m not becoming a criminal.”

“I’m not saying that.” The villain shifts their gaze to the window the hero was just trying to open. “I’m just suggesting… I don’t know. Go do something that actually puts some good out there.”

“And you’re telling me this, of all people.”

The villain laughs at that. The hero smiles too—it is weird to get a morality lesson from someone who notoriously doesn’t have any. “Hey, you do the good stuff and I’ll stick to the bad stuff. Only good if there’s bad and vice versa, right?”

The villain opens the door, clearly considering their point made. “You really think the agency’s that bad?” the hero blurts.

“I don’t think there’s anything worse.” The villain idly runs their hand over the grooves in the door handle for a moment. “You have a lot of potential, [Hero]. I think I’d like to see what it’s like to fight you in your prime rather than as the agency’s lapdog.”

The hero nods sagely. “This is for personal gain, then.”

“Of course it is!” The villain grins. It’s a lot more genuine than their usual victorious smirk. “Everything I do is for personal gain, you know that.”

The hero can’t help but smile gratefully as the villain shuts the door behind them. Maybe they can think on it. Maybe they can consider their options, here, in this lovely little room that's more than they’ve had in years.

If giving the hero a nice bed and a beautiful view is for personal gain, then the villain should be selfish more often.

#creative writing #writblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #hey yall. guess whos handin in his notice on tuesday (hint: its me)#i am OUTIE YALL #excited to ditch #long story short they have screwed me over pretty royally and i KNOW how important i am so fuck em! good luck survivin without me!!

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marypsue · 9 months

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I freely admit that this post is more propaganda to try to get people to consider using a book journal than me actually believing that People In General keep book journals, but consider: keeping a book journal.

#saw somebody make a derisive comment in the tags of a post about keeping a book journal #something to the effect of 'no? i don't do that?? because i just remember what i've already read????'#(strong implication that if you can't or don't Just Remember then you are stupid and defective)#and it got RIGHT up my nose.#oh really? really? you remember the exact correct title and author of every book you've ever read?#you remember when you read it and what the context of that time was?#you remember your impression of it at that time and every thought that it sparked in you?#you remember WHY this one hit so hard when you read it this time when last time you tried it left you cold? or vice versa?#or why this one struck you so hard but this other similar one you also read didn't?#and how being able to hold together having read both of them helped you understand and articulate WHY the other one didn't hit?#and maybe also helped you understand something fundamental about people's viewpoints? or the way the world works and why?#and you remember that revelation? and always will?#and you can conjure all of these memories to mind on command?#and not just end up with only 'the cover was green and in the end it turned out they were sisters'?#and any of us who don't have your impressive mental faculties are just stupid?#ok. sure. I super definitely believe you.#anyway i love my book journal #everybody who enjoys reading and thinking about books should at least give keeping one a shot

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 2 months

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Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.

But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”

Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)

Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.

I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.

Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…

#the third eye has been opened #😵‍💫#like tolerate it was always a difficult song #even when we learned it was based on Rebecca it obviously took on new meaning post-joever #and especially in light of ttpd #but the thought spiral i went on last night when i started thinking about all these connections #and the evermore of it all #I’m Charlie at the conspiracy board again #writing letters addressed to the fire #me thinking too hard about Taylor lyrics #evermore my beloved #tolerate it #i kinda gave myself the ick with all this 😵‍💫#because of the ttpd of it all coming up #and i feel like i remember interviews where Taylor said joe was so well-read especially about like world events and politics and stuff #and supported her when she wanted to start speaking up (not getting into that)#but just based on ~vibes now I wonder if that was like a sore point too at some point #which again i have no proof of but just like… experience with pretentious millennial art bros lol #oh man oh man oh man #this feels like some sort of huge revelation at 1:00 am #when i started writing this lol #eta: when I queued this in the middle of the night i didn't see all the excellent discussion about the seven/folklore posts #so all of you who have been posting about them this morning consider yourselves tagged too!

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