capitu

Hi, my name isn't Capitu but it's a cool name so yeah. I'm a mess of fandoms and interests but I'm too lazy to organize it; when I'm on obsessed mode I write the things I have on my not always so lucid and fertile mind. moved by samba-rock

[donttouchmyempire]

"You're way too confident for someone who has 'anus' in their name."

Maysilee Donner at Snow threatening her, had she won the 50th Hunger Games. Probably.

[lindalofbroome]

source: vine

[donttouchmyempire]

my adorable dorks <3

[courtmartialme]

late royai day piece💙🧡

[donttouchmyempire]

I'd be the maid of the maid of the maid of the maid of their neighbour just to know they are happy like this <3

[burntblueberrywaffles]

[donttouchmyempire]

That's exactly what I do with my life

[thedeepthought]

“i never see you at the club” ok well i never see you on ao3 at 2am reading about the same two bitches falling in love for the 1000th time in the 500th way

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

MAY YOU NEVER LOSE YOUR HYPERFIXATION

[iamnotathornbird]

it is simultaneously a blessing and a curse lol

[vtory-art]

just a little something to take the edge off🚬

[donttouchmyempire]

GORGEOUS

[donttouchmyempire]

Kiss me through the ice cream

POV: You are Kakyoin, being very bisexual for these two (and you don't know they are for you, too)

First part of Chapter 5 from "I'm a sinner, anyway."

While Mr. Joestar and Polnareff were buying a car (“I swear I’ll need to be dragged if you make me walk again!” Polnareff had stated), Beatrice decided to go for a short walk to find something to drink, because the United Arab Emirates was boiling. At first, she didn’t realize why both Kakyoin and Jotaro decided to go with her. The girl has always seen Kakyoin as polite and a gentleman, so it wouldn’t be so surprising, after all. But Jotaro? He’d already told her he’d pay to stay away from her. What, now? Perhaps, she could care more if she hadn't spotted something extraordinary.

“Er - Beatrice,” Kakyoin started. “What do you want to -”

“Oh, Lord! It’s ice cream!” Beatrice’s eyes went wide, and she meant to run to that beautiful ice cream shop on the other side of the road. It was probably quite an expensive shot, but she hoped her savings could afford at least a popsicle. However, her movements were restrained when she felt someone grabbing her Tweety backpack. “Hey!”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jotaro asked in his monotonous voice.

“I’m going to measure this road with my pinky,” she answered, looking cynically at him. “What do you think I’m doing, you moron? I want some ice cream!”

“Dressed like this?” he stared at her clothes. She was wearing her usual miniskirt, a long-sleeved shirt (she never liked to show her back) with a deep neckline. And, of course, her high-heeled boots.

“Why do you prefer naked?” Beatrice ironized, with a naughty smile. “It’s too hot, but I guess it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“I guess he means they won’t let you come in the store if you’re not wearing - uh - proper clothes.” Kakyoin interfered before the other could answer. “You see, they’re not used to seeing women here showing that much skin…”

Oh. 

Of course. She saw a few women while walking through the streets, and all of them were covered from head to foot. She didn’t really pay attention to men, though. They’d always stare, anyway.

“Oh. So… no ice cream.” The girl sighed. She loved the dessert, but could not always have it. Before meeting them, she couldn’t spend the money she earned on treats. And when she was a child, the only times she had ice cream were when the orphanage took them on trips, usually to visit other churches or monasteries. Sometimes, the bus would stop in the middle of the journey so they could have lunch, and the nuns would bring them lemon popsicles. But Beatrice dreamed about the big and colorful ice creams.

When she turned around, something was placed over her shoulders.

A large, black coat, so huge it looked more like a cape than anything.

Jotaro’s coat.

What now? They were taking turns to lend her their coats?

“Problem solved,” he muttered and headed to the shop. Kakyoin shook his head and smiled.

“He has a way of getting people’s affection, doesn’t he?” the red-haired whispered, watching for a second the tallest of them crossing the road, before starting walking. 

“Speak only for yourself.” Beatrice retorted. “The only thing he gained from me is an increasing desire to kick him.”

Kakyoing laughed. He opened the door of the shop for her in a very chivalrous way. She thanked him with a nod and ran directly to where she could see the flavors. They had so many that the girl couldn’t even think straight. It got worse because they couldn’t speak the same language as the attendants. So, they just ended up doing some gestures and hoping for a flavor they didn’t dislike.

“Mine is mango,” Kakyoin told them when they left the store, deciding to have their ice cream by a wall outside for its shade. Beatrice sat on the top of it, in the middle of the boys, climbing it easily despite her heels. “I’ve never had this before. It’s amazing!”

“Oh - mango? I’ve had the fruit, but never the ice cream,” Beatrice said, trying not to look too greedy. Well, not that she could avoid. She asked for her ice cream back, which Kakyoin was gently holding while she was balancing herself on the wall lazily. “Mine’s grape. I’ve never thought grape was an ice cream flavor.”

“What about yours, Jotaro?” Kakyoin tilted his head. He was leaning over the wall on Beatrice’s left, while Jotaro was on her right, facing the street.

“Chocolate.”

“As tedious as you,” the girl rolled her eyes. She licked her own treat with passion, knowing that moment would soon be over, because that day was so hot and it would melt quickly.

The girl didn’t realize the boys were staring at her until she noticed they were silent for too long. 

Their eyes were fixed on the way her tongue moved, on her. She would lick her fingers clean and would try to catch every single drop of the purple liquid before it could fall. Kakyoin found it both endearing and embarrassing, a combination he’d later associate with that strange girl with scandalous clothing and a caring heart. Another part of him, which he refused to pay attention to, though the scene was somehow sexy. He felt his cheeks burning, something he was sure had nothing to do with the temperature, and looked away. 

Jotaro hadn’t stopped licking his own ice cream, but his eyes were focused on Beatrice. Firstly, he was disgusted by the way she was having it. As if she’d never had ice cream in her entire life, or that would be her last. A child would do better. Then… his mind went to a place he rarely allowed it to go, either because he hated the way his body reacted to stupid things like those scenes, or because he had more important things to think about. The sounds she made… the sighs… the way she licked it. 

It was about the way she was hot and beautiful only when she was not trying to.

He had seen her trying to seduce him mockingly, or seducing others to get money… he saw the way she teased Polnareff, her insinuations and dirty jokes. Everything just made Jotaro annoyed.

However… when she was like that, in her own world, there was something about her… in the way she moved, in the way she talked, how she always had cutting, yet clever answers, the way her mind worked, her stubbornness… Sometimes, she was not awful.

And right now, she wasn’t awful at all.

He wondered if that grape ice cream was really that good, the way she made it seem.

“Can I have it?” Jotaro asked suddenly, not even thinking about the implications of his question. Beatrice turned to him, slightly surprised. 

“Okay.”

She handed it to him and watched as he passed his tongue over the almost finished grape ice cream. 

“Not bad,” Jotaro said, pulling down his hat.

“Now I’m curious about yours, too! Kakyoin, may I have some? Please?” Beatrice was really interested in his mango ice cream. She saw his face blush hard as he let her have a taste of his, too. 

The way she thought it was. Fresh and sweet. She whined.

“I should have chosen this one.”

“I can change flavors,” he said. “Here.”

“What? No, mine’s almost finished.”

“I don’t mind. Have it.”

It was Beatrice’s turn to feel her cheeks burning. His kindness was beyond her comprehension. She accepted without further complaints, especially because Greed and Gluttony would shut the fuck up inside her head. Well, almost.

“I want a taste of yours, Jotaro,” she said, risking a look at his ice cream. 

“Didn’t you just say it was tedious?” he asked, not really fond of the dessert anyway. In fact, a weird part of him was wondering if her lips tasted like grapes.

“It’s still ice cream,” she leaned over and waited. He didn’t look at her when he offered her a bite. 

They finished their sweets silently after that. Kakyoin finally met Jotaro’s eyes and panicked. 

They had cross-kissed. All of them. Somehow. 

Jotaro didn’t seem to care, and Beatrice didn’t seem to notice.

“Why am I thinking about these stupid teenage things while we are in such a dangerous journey?” the red-headed boy asked himself. It was only when Beatrice accidentally dropped Jotaro’s ice cream ball and offered him the mango one, which he surprisingly took, that he understood.

They were all teenagers, after all. In a normal world, he’d tell Beatrice what all of that meant and would get her adorable, however rare, blush. They’d make Jotaro uncomfortable, teasing him. They’d be laughing while cleaning themselves with a napkin, taking more time with Beatrice’s skirt and thighs. In a normal world, Kakyoin, the boy who easily understood people around him, would allow himself to fall in love with Beatrice and Jotaro. He’d ask not only to taste Beatrice’s ice cream, but her lips. He’d share his mango flavor with Jotaro with his own tongue.

Maybe, when all of that ended, that would be possible.

But, at that moment, they needed to join Mr. Joestat and Polnareff again, leaving behind the flirty adolescents they knew they had let escape for a brief moment – and all of them regretted it a bit.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[windflowermary]

i love so much that roy and riza's relationship is just her stopping him from doing dumb stupid shit. but she also does not save him from looking like a dumb stupid idiot for trying to do the dumb stupid shit in the first place.

[adeadcreator]

Hi!! Your work is awesome!

Came here to ask how would you imagine each Jojo would react to a poet reader, reader being ashamed of the poems they write, and keeps them hidden. In fact, they never mention they write. Jojos find out accidentally (okay, some of them pry lol) and among many beautiful, insightful works about nature and the universe and humanity, they find one (01) poem reader wrote about them, as an unreachable love.

If you could add Rohan and Bucciarati, too, it's be amazing!

Ah thank you so much for your compliment!! I hope you enjoy!!

Jonathan:

He finds your notebook one quiet afternoon when helping you tidy up your study. He doesn’t mean to pry but a page slips open, and the handwriting catches his eye. When he realizes it’s poetry, his breath hitches.

“This is… magnificent.” And then he sees his name or at least, the unmistakable description of him through your eyes “a man carved of honor, sunlight, and sorrow.” 

Jonathan doesn’t tease or question. Instead, when you later confess through embarrassed tears, he takes your hand and says softly “If this is how you see me, then I am the most fortunate man alive.” He keeps that poem in a locket later.

Joseph:

Joseph absolutely teases you first, he finds the poems because he’s too nosy for his own good. “What’s this? ‘The man whose laughter outshines the sun’- wait a minute, is this about me?!” You groan, covering your face, mortified.

But then his voice lowers, softer than you’ve ever heard. “You really think that about me?” It’s rare, but Joseph gets sentimental and he swears to keep your secret. He even starts carrying a notebook of his own, pretending to “learn poetry” to impress you.

Jotaro:

He discovers it by accident when you leave the notebook in his coat pocket after borrowing it. He doesn’t read past the first few lines, until he notices the tone shifts. It’s about him. About how unreachable he feels.

He freezes, staring at the page, the words echoing the very guilt he feels for being distant.

When you catch him with it, expecting anger or mockery, he just says quietly “...You shouldn’t be ashamed. It’s beautiful.” Then he gives it back, a faint blush coloring his ears. Later, he starts sketching in his own notebook, not poetry, but small notes and doodles that remind him of you.

Josuke:

You’d hidden your poems behind your school books and he only found out when one slipped out during a study session. He tries to read it aloud jokingly, only to stop mid-sentence when he realizes it’s about him.

“Wait– this… this is about me, isn’t it?” He’s red-faced, stammering. “I mean– you think I’m– that cool?”  After you try to snatch it back, he grins softly. “You know… if I was half as poetic as you, I’d write about you, too.” He later does messy, cheesy lines, but full of heart.

Giorno:

He finds your poetry in a drawer while helping you move. He reads in silence, his usual calm expression softening with every line. When he reaches the one about him, he closes the book, taking a deep breath. The words “a dream wrapped in gold and thorns” linger in his head.

When you find out he read it, you’re mortified, but Giorno only says “You write as though you see the soul of things. Including mine.” He places the notebook gently in your hands. “Your words are alive. Don’t hide them from the world.”

Jolyne:

Jolyne discovers your poetry when you’re asleep, you fell asleep at your desk, pen still in hand. She can’t resist glancing at what you were writing. When she realizes it’s about her, she blushes hard.

“Unreachable love, huh? I didn’t know I was that cool.” She wakes you up with a smirk, teasing but affectionate. “You’ve got a way with words. If you ever publish a book, I want the first copy.” Later, when you’re too shy to write again, she nudges you. 

“Hey. Don’t stop because of me. Write. That’s who you are.”

Johnny:

He finds out during one of his lowest points , he’s rifling through your stuff while you’re away, restless, and stumbles upon it. Reading your words, especially the poem about him, hits like a bullet.

“A man trying to run from his own shadow.” He reads it over and over, stunned that someone sees both his pain and his beauty.

When you return, he doesn’t say much. Just looks at you and mutters, “You really saw all that in me?” From then on, Johnny guards your poetry like it’s holy.

Gappy:

He discovers your poetry by accident, but unlike others, he doesn’t recognize it’s about him until later. When he does, he gets really quiet. You expect teasing, but he’s thoughtful.

“You wrote this because you thought you couldn’t tell me, right?” He smiles gently. “You don’t have to be ashamed of what you feel. I like your words… they feel like home.”

Jodio:

He finds your poems because he was being nosy. Let’s be honest. He’s like “Damn, didn’t know you were this deep.” Then he sees the one about him and his expression shifts, all smugness gone. “...Unreachable, huh?” 

He doesn’t tease you about it. He just folds the page and gives it back carefully. “Keep writing. Even if it’s not about me next time.” But secretly, he hopes it will be.

Dragona:

Dragona finds out when you accidentally leave your poetry open on your desk. He recognizes himself instantly in your words “a walking art piece, untouchable yet kind.” she melts.

“You wrote this about me?” When you stammer out an embarrassed explanation, she laughs softly, brushing your cheek. “It’s okay. I think it’s beautiful. You see people with such gentleness… that’s rare.” She later designs a tattoo inspired by your poem’s imagery.

Rohan:

Rohan is obsessed. He discovers your poetry by prying, of course. At first, he reads it for “research purposes.” But then he finds the one about him, and he freezes. “Wait… me?” He rereads it five times, completely entranced.

When you catch him, he just smirks. “You should be proud, not embarrassed. This is art.” Later, he uses subtle imagery from your poems in his manga, a quiet tribute you might never notice.

Bruno:

Bruno finds your poetry when you accidentally leave it on the table. He’s gentle, he recognizes the personal nature of it but can’t help reading. When he finds the one about him “a man of faith made of sugar and blood,”  he feels something ache deep inside.

When you discover he read it, you panic, apologizing over and over. He silences you with a warm hand over yours. “You wrote from your heart. I’m honored.” Then, softly “You could write a thousand poems, but I’ll spend my life proving I’m worthy of even one.”

He’s the type to keep your notebook safe, wrapped in silk, tucked in his coat pocket, like something sacred.

[egoiistas]

022218 Warm Embrace

@b-griveros: It was nice to do a first collaboration with Mar;  she sent me the reference and I couldn’t get the image out of my head. I needed to draw.  And then, with this new perspective Marilyn captures perfectly the atmosphere between them two. I f*cking love this woman and I’m thankful she’s been inspiring and motivating me to improve over the past months. Thank you so much for existing, Marilyn, and I hope everyone gets a little warm ache in the chest.

Rated: T for cursing. || Words: ~1400

“Come here.”

“Colonel.”

“Lieutenant, give me your hand.”

She didn’t lack the temptation, but - “At any moment, someone can walk in.”

“So Breda will let us know.”

“It’s really… it’s all right, I’m all right. Your coat… it’ll be enough.”

“No…” From his seat, he reached blindly for her hand. “Come here. ….just rest now.”

A mixture of determination, ire, concern, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Rebecca Catalina was hellbent on finding Riza, but even hell hath no fury like a woman on a mission to find her comrade-at-arms, her closest friend…  

The only sister she’s ever known.

After victory was assured, amidst the mayhem, literal hours went on trying figure out which hospital Riza and the Colonel had been sent to and her heart plunged, desperation brimming at the cusp, because only Mustang’s wellbeing had been reported. What about his adjutant, the Lieutenant? She had asked. The blonde who was always next to him, where was she? She’s important too. If not more. The hours of radio silence felt like decades, and her exhaustion served to irritate her more than she already was. How difficult was it, really, to find someone who had been in the heart of it all? How do you misplace the decorated matchstick?

Keep reading

[cynderrfall]

Intimidating couple w a dog and no kids

[nymbruyn]

Mon Athéna Exclamation à la dorure est terminée depuis un moment. Je réalise que je ne l'ai jamais postée ici.

[meru90]

Seninle seninle ben. Anlatamam gecirdigim. O güzel günleri seneleri. Aglamayi gülmeyi sevmeyi. Bilki senden ögrendim yasamayi. Seninle seninle ben. Paylaymistim herseyimi .   Dur birakma beni

[reapedagain]

I have to giggle about it or I'll cry🥲

[achillesinhighheels]

[isagaiia]

late to the apothecary diaries party heyyy