#as always i found it somewhere i am not that clever

[fangirltothefullest]

Okay but now what if how you designed Remus but in as many words as you want, because I'm loving these design breakdowns

HELL YEAH!

Remus to me is full of chaos but he is also the antithesis of Roman with similar qualities but a total lack of self consciousness or bashfulness. He is freedom and he gives no shits.

Inspiration 1: Mad Madam Mim

I start with a disney character full of chaos and I am inspired by mad Madam Mim because she is wild and chaotic and i absolutely love how fun she is as a villain and the most important thing for me is that Remus is fun. He's bonkers and has terrible ideas but he's also harmless in terms of reality. He's like an annoying little brother that wants to show you the Weird Gunk he found in the trash.

Inspiration 2: Snidley Whiplash (or Dick Dastardly)

Remus to me is a guy who knows a lot of things and he's actually really clever but he wants to BE a villain like Snidley Whiplash or Dick Dastardly, including the moustache. He wants to tie people to train tracks because it's fun. His personality is "I found the dynamite and the roller skates! :D"

Inspiration 3: Wile E Coyote and looney tunes as a concept

If Remus is anything it's a creature that can be stabbed in the eye and come back fine. It's a person who can make acme-like contraptions that do not work and that's ok. He is, if nothing else, Wile E Coyote and he is having the time of his life. He should therefore have hair that is a littler wild and crazy and untamable like Wile E's tail.

Inspiration 3: Royal villains

We will look at Galavant and also OUaT again!

There's nothing quite as detailed in costume as evil royal villains. They always seem to be the most extravagant or at least have all the buckles and things and Remus has an outfit just the same. Like Roman I want his royalty to show with his clothes but unlike Roman I want Remus to look way less put together. More a culmination of his clothes he chooses to wear but only because he HAS to wear something so he's going to show skin.

Particularly though the one I associate with Remus is Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time.

Inspiration 4: Captain Hook / Pirate aesthetics

Roguish, half-opened shirt, details, dressed fancy, swashbuckling. Remus would make a great pirate because he has the swagger and charm of a drunken man sailing a boat with a pet giant octopus he calls Lil Pussy.

Speaking of octopus...

Inspiration 5: Kraken and hentai

He has an octopus on his belt and he deserves tentacles for a pirate feel but also for fuckin. Cause he's a raunchy bastard. Anything taboo is something he wants to think about.

Inspiration 6: Punk aesthetic

What easier way top buck against the norms than to embrace punk vibes? Jewelry, upside-down crosses, I don't like going overboard with it but I like giving him some. Fingerless gloves, chokers with spikes, those kinds of things work well for his "I am everything your religious grandmother hates, embrace it". His outfits that aren't standard could look like he made them himself or found them in the garbage and went "awesome!"

Inspiration 7: Weapon Master

Remus likes to hit things with his mace and while Roman has his sword, I imagine Remus is an expert at weapons or at least likes to use them so even if I am going to dress him up nice I want a weapon nearby somewhere.

Things that are a must:

So many details, Remus will not leave your eyeballs alone. If you think Roman has details nope, Remus wants your eyes to bleed with them.

Remus should have longer hair than Roman, wilder bangs and wilder curls. Shorter hair is fine but a ponytail is even more fun. Like the tie holding it'll break at any moment.

Weapons galore, arm this baby at every opportunity. Likewise, scars are acceptable but it's ok if they disappear at random because chaos loves chaos.

If Remus has his main garb off he should be showing skin to the best of his abilities and his collar should drape down wider than normal because let that man be a slut.

Tentacles should be numerous when shown and they should have a mind of their own doing whatever they want.

If Roman wouldn't wear it, Remus would. If Roman wouldn't think it, Remus would, and if Roman would be disgusted, Remus would love it.

Remus should have annoying little brother vibes.

Any non-standard outfits should look like he cobbled them together with duct tape and chewing gum.

So I came to this:

#tashiarts #sanders sides #inspiration for remus

[leiflitter]

More

Hello from Blighty thoughts about Saltburn

As a continuation from my reply to @armands-eyefuckery because BRAIN

Aight gang let's have a lil sit down because there is a big ol angle to the film that I think is getting missed by a lot of folks who aren't from the UK because it's a very uh...

British Thing.

IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT OLIVER IS FROM THE NORTH.

Cut because Length.

Now look. I am not going to go into Thatcher and Her Crimes, but it's worth a google. I do bring it up in You're Almost Home because...

Lots of people are saying Oliver is upper middle class, and honestly? That doesn't track for me. At all. Yes, his parents have a detached house in a nice suburb and they went on holidays, but there's a lot of Very British Context to them that I really want to point out. Also remember, it's 2006/2007. That is also important.

First of all- Oliver's parents probably never went to University.

Really listen to them. How gullible they are- they believe that Oliver can study at Oxford, and be on the rowing team, and be in plays, and be top scholar. He's always been so clever. If Oliver was anything near upper middle class, his parents would be educated professionals. Oliver probably has dockworkers not even three generations back- his dad has management vibes, but he probably worked his way up in the 70s when all you needed was a good attitude and not to be an obvious murderer.

Secondly- let's talk about the house.

As someone from Down South who has also lived Up North, Oliver's Parent's house would not have been as expensive as people think. Let's assume they bought it in the 1980s- we ALL know that house prices are through the roof NOW, but even today there is a huge gap between house prices in the south and the north. 200k down South might get you a one bedroom flat, if you're lucky. 200k in Prescot can get you a 4-bed, semi-detached HOUSE. Check rightmove.

It is also important that the house is relatively new-looking, because over here Upper Middle Class people aren't really into new build houses- if Oliver was upper middle class, he'd be living in something Victorian or Edwardian. Probably somewhere with a good link to London, especially in 2007. It also means that Oliver's parents may not have even bought it outright- my parents got on the housing ladder via a shared ownership scheme. Oliver's parents aren't rich.

Now, the holidays. Mykonos. Another fun Brit thing is the package holiday. Here's a pretty interesting article about them;

Two adults and three kids could absolutely have gone to Mykonos every year in the late 80s/90s for far less than you'd expect, especially if they paid in installments each month.

I also mentioned about Ollie being from Merseyside specifically, but again. CONTEXT. Although Oliver isn't Liverpudlian (it's important, he's from NEAR Liverpool but not Liverpool itself) the North of England as a whole has routinely been fucked over by those in power. The government AND the royals and the very wealthy. It's still ongoing today- again, another fun source.

Remember when Mr Eats-Crunchies-Sideways called him a Bootlicker? That's fucking IMPORTANT. To many folks he IS a bootlicker. He is highly unlikely to have been raised to grovel at the feet of those with hereditary titles and wealth, and honestly he doesn't. I've written before about how Oliver Denies Felix Things and how that dynamic is important. Oliver likely hasn't been raised with any real deference to The Rich (except Princess Diana).

It also effects Oliver's response to Felix, because goddamn it THATCHER again- it is HIGHLY likely that Oliver has lived through a lot of homophobia. Internalised a lot of it. Felix's parents do not give a shit, but that was not the norm. Again, tried to hit on it in YAH, because times have changed since the 90s/2000s and people change with them, but no fuckin wonder Oliver never responded to Felix chirpsing him like a maniac. He's fucking REPRESSED when he's in Oxford, pals. It also makes sense with that weird Tumblr Dom shit he pulls; he's still fuckin weird about it, he's just being In Charge so he doesn't need to be vulnerable in any way. He is only vulnerable for Felix, and even then he can't SHOW felix that, that would be gay.

Leiflitter over'n'out

#leiflitter rambles #saltburn spoilers #saltburn thoughts #incoherent as usual pals #can't take the brit outta saltburn #yah!posting

[furowrites]

Patronus Charm + Amortentia Hogwarts Legacy Headcanons (ft. Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt & Garreth Weasley)

i am reviving this account, it turns out :) 

my credentials for these headcanons? i watch the hp movies every time i’m sick, and i’m halfway through the books. there you go

my writing has grown a bit rusty, please forgive <3

Sebastian Sallow

I am adamant about Sebastian’s Patronus Charm being a wild horse; specifically a wild one, regardless of breed

There’s something about the untamed pride and stubbornness about horses in the wild that make them very suitable to be his Patronus

Also wild horses have extremely finicky and complex social hierarchy and behaviors, so in my opinion, it really works

I believe the scents Sebastian would smell in his Amortentia include a dash of cinnamon, plain and simple; a dusty puff that surges from a book that hasn’t been opened in years; and the burn of brazier coals

(We know Sebastian is always sneaking around, and he is often overcome with the rush of adrenaline and triumph after being successful in his mischief, whilst braziers light the paths of the night, be it along Hogwarts dungeons and passages, or pathways cutting across the highlands)

(He has mentioned before how his parents had instilled in him an appreciation for books, and that in addition to his particular penchant for slipping into the Restricted Section, I conclude the clammy, dusty smell caught within a dated book may hit a weak spot for him)

(This might be a quite biased perspective, but cinnamon tends to be a spice that one very occasionally sprinkles on their food or drink, and he believes it takes a specific type of rowdiness to add it onto one’s tea, or butterbeer. When he was but a wee little third-year, Sebastian overheard a few older Hogwarts students in The Three Broomsticks—who all happened to be girls he found quite pretty—and one of them jokingly said something along the lines of “only fine-looking women put cinnamon in their butterbeer.” For some reason, it stuck with him forever)

Ominis Gaunt

It took me a while to figure this one out, but then it hit me like a train: his Patronus is a swan!

It’s almost so obvious: swans move with such grace and elegance, both in flight and on water; their feathers are soft and add great quality to many accessories

They also mate for life and are very devoted partners, which I believe to be very plausible for Ominis

Swans have always been a symbol of romanticism, and I happen to think Ominis can be, once he is close and comfortable enough with someone, quite doting and romantic

To Ominis, Amortentia has a verdant, grassy must; it also has delicate, flowery hints; and lastly, the smokey trail of a train

(It would perhaps be easy to assume Ominis would smell something like bergamot, or jasmine, which he could easily associate with the afternoon tea at the Gaunt estate; however, I believe due to the hurt that regularly came with his family’s company, it would be more likely for him to find solace in the scents he could attribute to the presence of those who lived around him; for instance, fresh garden trims left by the greenskeeper, or the hay being shoveled by the stableboy)

(Listen, if there’s one thing Ominis is unapologetically a spoiled, rich kid about, it’s tastefully-scented silks of linen or robes, placed neatly at the end of his bed, and whether it’s honeysuckle or violets or lemongrass, he can definitely find it wafting somewhere in his Amortentia)

(When Ominis was young, the first time he rode a train was rather dreadful—it was so, so loud, what with the chooing and chuffing and the buzzing crowd—but by the time he was to board the Hogwarts Express for his First Year, he had grown to love it; thus the faint, smokey trace of creosote in there)

Garreth Weasley

His Patronus Charm is shaped after a magpie, and there’s several reasons behind this logic

First, magpies are very clever, unafraid of mischief, and they can laugh!

They’re notorious thieves by nature, too (lol)

Also, and more crucially, in my opinion, magpies receive widely ranging interpretations in European folklore; according to a superstitious, traditional nursery rhyme, ‘One for Sorrow,’ magpies are said to be an omen for wildly differing things, depending on how many you come across (‘One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told’)

I interpret Garreth to be someone quite misunderstood by his schoolmates—cherished by some, detested by others, and everything in between—he’s funny and talented, and he has the kind of effortless charm that you either wholly captivated by, or it peeves you to no end

For Garreth I only have two distinct smells I firmly believe he would find in Amortentia (perhaps the constant inhaling of potion fumes has worn his nose quite a bit): apple cider and asphodel leaves, and these are a bit straightforward in my reasoning, as he himself is towards what appeals to him

(the sour, sharp smell of fermented apples easily conflates with that of butterbeer, but is slightly sweeter. During the summer breaks between his first few years in Hogwarts, apple cider was the only ‘experiment’ his family allowed him to get away with at home, and so it is inevitably reminiscent of early mornings where he would rush through breakfast in order to burst into his family’s shed to check the results of his work)

(asphodel grows in Hogwarts grounds, and its leaves and roots are used in the creation of potions such as Wiggenweld and Draught of Living Death, both of which take a practiced, precise hand to perfect)

i'd love to hear your feedback! and if these inspire you at all to include them in your own writing at all (pardon my being presumptuous), i would ask that you please tag me! i would be immensely flattered!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy headcanons #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanons #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt headcanons #garreth weasley #garreth weasley headcanons #furowrites

[koy6na]

never yours

tags: cheating, dubcon, coercion

he’s lowkey a menace in this

this had gone on for far too long. 

he was frustrating in so many ways. nitpicking every detail about a spell, calling you scatterbrained when you spaced out during class. as if he wasn’t frustrating enough, it made your stomach churn watching him teach spells. studying the way his forearms flexed his wand, the way his eyebrows scrunched, and the chilling tone of his voice echoing in the undercroft. he rolls his eyes when he realizes you aren’t paying attention. your boyfriend never liked sebastian. he thinks of him as prideful and snobby but you both know the genuine reason why he pulls you aside as soon as sebastian enters the room. 

your routine was simple. you spend your time studying, practicing spells, keeping busy, anything to distract yourself from that feeling seeping through the cracks. the responsibilities of being a seventh year were overbearing but being with him made you feel like a fifth year again. feigning naivety and curiosity in an attempt to get him to play teacher with you. he’s good at it and perceptive to giving tips but he can’t understand why everything he tells you goes in one ear and out the other. you’ve noticed he’s been getting good at scolding you when your attention spans elsewhere. 

you say you hate him and roll your eyes but he still doesn’t know where your mind goes when you stop paying attention. you keep the countless late night owls he sends you in a box under your bed, out of sight. they make you smile and you can feel them burning a hole into the floor when your boyfriend is there. he’s cunning, manipulative, and too clever for his own good. you can’t stand sebastian. but his voice is soft and his hands are calloused and you just can’t stay away. he doesn’t question when you come running back, in fact he probably thinks your passion for the dark arts is what keeps you here. but somewhere, deep down, you know he’s not that dumb. 

the two of you linger in the library for far too long, you’re way past studying but still haven’t broken into something more. the stone halls are quiet but the blood pumping in your head is loud enough to fill the room. “if you’re not going to study then go to sleep. you’re no help nodding off like that.” his voice is husked like rain. your heavy eyelids feel light under his gaze. “i am studying. i’m just...taking a break.” you murmur. he laughs lowly. your eyes follow the flicker of candlelight along the shadows of his face. “well you’ve taken about six breaks since we’ve been here. just go, i’m going to finish this chapter before sharp has my head.” he yawns and the corners of his dark eyes glint with sleep. “you seem pretty tired yourself there.” the book in your hand falls closed in your lap, your thumb marking your place. you were far past caring about mandrakes and dittany leaves. the view of sebastian sallow sleepily reading about wiggenweld potions was far more enticing. 

green eyes rake over words on pages. he drinks in every word despite the fatigue. for a second, you allow yourself to imagine those eyes drinking in the gleam of your skin but it’s too strange. no matter how many times your mind weans to desire it always feels far too illicit to continue. before you know it, his eyes are flicking to yours. you instinctively look away but the flame in your cheeks remain locked on him. “are you that incapacitated that you’ve just stopped studying at all?” he chuckles and sets the textbook down gently. “or is it that you’ve found something more interesting to analyze?” you scoff and look up to find his eyes still on you. his eyes are narrow but you can still see that eccentric glint atop the green. “no. not at all.” your voice is low, muffled by the tension in the air. “in fact i’ve been finding my research on mandrakes quite fascinating.” sebastian lifts his hand, causing your nerves to shift a bit. he swipes your book from between your fingers, courteously making sure not to lose your spot. you watch meticulously as his fingers thumb the pages. “that’s funny. it seems here you’ve been reading the venomous tentacula section for about, let’s see...six chapters.” his smirk spreads wide before he places your book down. it’s face up as it lays on his textbook. 

your eyes still follow his hands as they lay across his lap. you find yourself counting the freckles on the back of his hand. you count twenty one before his other hand brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. your heart swells in nervousness. a voice in the back of your head tells you to be careful. your boyfriend doesn’t like sebastian for a reason and all those times when you reassured him there was nothing to worry about, you had maybe been lying. “it’s awfully late, we should head to sleep.” he whispers lowly. your eyes reel with intent as his fingers graze your skin. you feel your body inch towards his. you’re falling further and further until you plant a hand on the couch between the two of you. as you lean in, you can hear the hitch in his breath.

his lips are warm. the first kiss is light and ambiguous. when you pull away you search his face for an answer. he leans in this time, harder and rougher. his hands find a place on your face, then lower onto your shoulders, until they’re reaching for the buttons on your blouse. his chest meets yours as he pushes the two of you onto the couch. he’s got half the buttons on your shirt undone when a pang of guilt crashes over you. “wait. slow down sebastian, someone might see.” your hands palm against his shoulders, pushing with barely enough force to move him. “let them. i hope he sees this. someone that pathetic can’t touch you like this.” his fingers are swift with each button, and despite your words, you eagerly wait for them to undo each one. he smooths his hands over your stomach, reaching to grab your waist. you notice the way your skirt has ridden up, revealing white lace to him. his hands find their way under your skirt while his lips work to keep you quiet. he thumbs your slit over your underwear sending shivers through your spine. 

you can feel how hard he is when he ruts against you. you laugh to yourself in bubbling anticipation. you forget that despite his sensible demeanor he still is just another guy. his palms are warm against your burning skin. each caress carries you deeper and deeper away from guilt. your boyfriend is nice. he carries your books for you, he buys you flowers, he doesn’t even bat an eye when you’re gone for days on an adventure. of course, he doesn’t know that most of these escapades involve being in close company with sebastian. he doesn’t know most of them involve subtle glances and hands on shoulders. it would make him sick the amount of times you’ve been close enough to sebastian to count the freckles on his eyelids. you can’t help but feel a bit bad for him but the way those freckled hands dance beneath your skirt send you over the edge. 

he’s quick to discard the undergarment he’s robbed you of. “don’t think about him when you’re with me. actually don’t think about him at all.” he whispers against your neck. you laugh at his request. “he’s my boyfriend. i have to think about him.” before you realize what you’ve said you’re met with a set of sharp green eyes on you. “does your boyfriend know what you’re doing right now? does he know you’re with me?” his tone is harsh. “don’t pretend like you care about how he feels, alright? it just makes this whole situation harder than it needs to be.” you frown at him, his expression doesn’t change. it doesn’t change when he finishes undoing the rest of the buttons on your blouse but his eyes darken when he takes it off. you feel embarrassed from his words, his gaze, but you don’t push him away. you know how that ends.

he unbuckles his belt and the buckle taps against your bare thigh. his cock is displayed in front of you, and as twisted as the knot in your stomach feels, it’s nothing compared to how twisted your mind is. you feel a bit sick thinking about him walking in on you two but part of you feels enticed by the thought. that was the thing about sebastian. he stripped you of your moral compass, he made you wanna do all these bad things that normally you would have never dreamed of doing. or maybe, he just awoken the buried feeling of never wanting to be good. either way it didn’t matter because after tonight you’d never have a guiltless thought ever again.

you watch as he slides into your cunt over and over again. he’s a bit sloppy but you don’t mind. his eyes stay glued to your sex but you can’t help but drink in every moan, every scrunch of his eyebrows, every shift in his body. you’re sure he’s stopped paying attention to anything besides you. the rest of the world slips away. you forget about the boyfriend and all the times you promised there was nothing between you and sebastian. the denial only made your attraction stronger. and the best part was that you always knew the way it vexed sebastian that you had a boyfriend. that it bothered him that you didn’t belong to him, not the ancient magic, not your attention, and not your body. it satisfied you, the jealousy in his eyes. it fulfilled you to be under him even if it meant you were a bad person, all those times you saw the grit in his teeth or the clench in his jaw. there was a point in time when you truly believed you loved your boyfriend. but love was a scapegoat for satisfaction. you loved the way his presence reeled sebastian further into your grasp. the closer you got to your boyfriend the more sebastian longed for you. the boy who coyly asked you to the yule ball had been a living reminder to sebastian that he couldn’t have everything he wanted. for a while you stood by that standard, slyly dodging his pleas for late night antics. but it pained you to see him out with other girls. 

girls with big noses or frizzy hair. girls who were bottom of their class or useless with a wand. girls who could do nothing for him. you heard them whispering in the halls to their friends. “isn’t he dreamy?” they’d say with a giggle. but they were wrong. sebastian was far from a dream. in fact, sebastian was a nightmare. whatever lie he’d sold them in order to get their attention had been a thoughtout prison escape from your impossible hold on him. now, you were the one locked up, watching him on the outside waving red flag after red flag and still refusing to believe that maybe, just maybe, sebastian sallow would not make a good boyfriend. but it didn’t matter. you didn’t like sebastian because you thought he’d be a good boyfriend. you liked him because he was like no one else. you watched the way he almost tore the world apart for anne and you wanted that part of him to actually tear it apart for you. 

countless nights of lying awake imagining the screams and the terrible howls of those girls succumbing to unforgivable curses left you feeling emptier by the day. you snapped at your boyfriend and talked back to your professors and you hated the way it delighted sebastian to see you like this. you remembered the night you used crucio on him. you remembered the gravelly tint of pain in his voice, the way he cowered below you. his knees hit the ground in excruciating fervor. your skin grew pebbled with goosebumps as your hands reached below your sheets and dipped into places you knew you shouldn’t. the sound of his anguish brought you to an apex where upon reaching the bottom left you in more shame and embarrassment than before. you couldn’t look at him let alone finish your potions assignment the next day. you had dropped the vial holding the phoenix feather when you felt sebastian’s finger brush yours. sharp had minused point from slytherin causing the rest of your classmates to give you death glares for the rest of class. 

your attempt to escape the classroom were meek seeing how sebastian quickly caught up to you, he grabbed your wrist before you could squirm out of his grasp. “what’s with you lately? have you been getting any of my owls? exams are coming up and i’ve barely seen you come out of your room, what are you doing?” his desperate array of questions left your mind empty and bleak like morning snow. “i....i’ve been studying in my room.” you spat out. the truth was, you knew sebastian would be in the library for the majority of the day and if he wasn’t there then he would be in the undercroft, ruling out both your favorite places in the whole school. “well, study with me tonight will you? i know you’re not studying all day in that room so just do me this favor.” that smirk of his left a lasting impact on you even after he had walked away. you didn’t miss the way his hand had lingered on your wrist, swinging your arm forward as he spun away. the momentum brought you back to reality. you’d be lying if you said you would never have expected what was to happen later that night in the library.

“break up with that boyfriend of yours, will you? wouldn’t you rather do this instead?” he’s panting against your lips. “i can’t.” you respond, lowly. his hips thrust desperately against yours, his slacks are slipping. “why? scared you’ll be alone after i’m bored of you?” he chuckles darkly, eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours. you roll your eyes in pink embarrassment. “you won’t be bored of me.” you say, unconfidently. you hope he won’t see past your half-built facade but you forget who you’re dealing with. sebastian gives one last thrust before he staggeringly pulls out of you. he sits back on the couch, head tilted back, legs spread with his gleaming cock still hard. he pants breathlessly into the dim atmosphere of the library. “i’m sorry, i’ll never get bored of you.” his head leans back onto the couch cushion as he glances at you. “now be good and finish me off here.” 

you want to scream at him and run. you want to pull out your wand and cast the most unforgivable curse you know. you wished he would stop looking at you like that. when you get on your knees in front of him he instinctively puts both hands on your head, guiding you, teaching you, keeping your attention on him. your lips wrap around his tip, coaxing him. before you know it he’s thrusting into your mouth, hips lifted and hands locked on your head. he cums fast into your convulsing throat. your eyes water and you can hardly breathe but it doesn’t matter. you’re embarrassed for the millionth time that night. embarrassed that you care more about his pleasure than your own. embarrassed that you’ve really done it this time. you curse yourself for being so gullible. sebastian sits panting into the cool air of the library, his voice echoes into the night. “you really won’t break up with him?” he asks breathily. your body shifts on the floor. you know your answer but you don’t know how to deliver it. you want the gravity of your equivocal rejection to permanently sit in his mind. “no. i love him.” as soon as the words leave your mouth you’re regretting them. sebastian smiles knowingly. “i knew you’d say that.”

this took me longer than it should have

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #sebastian x reader #hogwarts legacy sebastian

[miracles-and-butterflies]

You need to tell me who bruno's child is PLEASEE 🙇‍♀️

I did in the last instalment.

But, let’s continue!

~~~~~~

“Dolores Victoria Estrada Madrigal! You had me worried half to death! Where on earth have you been!? Your father said you were together and he turned around for one minute and you were gone! With no explanation! Don’t think that because you are an adult you are above such things, young lady!”

Dolores winced against the tight hug she’d been pulled into by her parents.

Her father was too busy crying tears of relief and pressing kisses to her head to get his own words out, but she could assume he felt similar to her mother.

Tía Julieta rushed over at the commotion. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is someone hurt?”

Tío Agustín wasn’t far behind her, covered in bee stings. Panting and out of breath. “Oh, you found her? That’s great.”

“Yay! Dolores is back!” Antonio yelled from somewhere. He pushed his way out of Camilo’s arms and scrambled to the floor, running over and gripping tightly onto her legs.

Camilo trailed along too. He attempted going the hug but Dolores pushed him away.

“No. I don’t want your grubby hands on me,” she waved him off.

He laughed. “It’s nice to have you back, hermana.”

“I swear they were all mad at her like two minutes ago.” Isabela complained from where she was stood beside Luisa.

“It’s been hours since then, Bela.”

“Still. You’d think they’d tell her off.”

“Why are we getting so distracted by this? Mirabel’s still missing…”

“It is quite alright, Pepa. She was with me the entire time.” Abuela assured, setting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “And someone else—”

There was fire in her eyes.

“Who!?” Pepa snarled. “Because I will kill whoever it was, so help me!”

The sound of hooves along the path caught everyone’s attention. Around the edge of Casita’s remains appeared a frazzled looking man in dusted green, awkwardly leading a horse by the reins.

Julieta gasped behind her hand.

Pepa’s jaw dropped.

The younger sister pulled away from the group and practically charged straight into Bruno, sending them both to the ground in a hug.

The older quickly followed, helping the pair back onto their feet and embracing them properly.

The matriarch’s heart melted at the sight.

“Who’s this ugly weirdo?”

And then the moment was ruined by Camilo’s question, which was quickly followed by the rest of the grandkids’ confusion.

“Can I have the horse? Please? Can I, Papí?”

“Why has he come back right now of all times? No - that’s it. I’m done. Nothing can surprise me now.”

“Um, has everyone just forgotten that Mirabel is missing?”

Félix cleared his throat, trying to hold back some laughter at Antonio. “Mijos, this is your Tío Bruno.”

Bruno offered the kids a wave as he approached, now free from the hug, though Pepa’s arm was still flung over his shoulder and Julieta remained equally close by.

“Hola, Tío Bruno!” Waved Antonio. “I really like your horse. Can I ride it?”

“It’s not actually mine… I kinda stole it.”

“Did you bring presents?” Camilo demanded, arms crossed. “Uncles should always bring presents.”

Isabela nodded. “I second that actually.”

“Am I speaking another language here?” Luisa pondered out loud.

“No, I, uh… I didn’t bring presents.” Bruno chuckled. “I didn’t know I was staying until Dolores convinced me otherwise.”

“Well, she is my daughter. Cleverness is a trait she gets from me.” Pepa insisted, fondly.

Isabela cleared her throat, pushing in front of Luisa. “I have a question. Now that you’re back and Dolores has reappeared, are we finally going to know about the whole parent thing?”

Dolores squeaked.

Bruno shared a look with Alma and his sisters.

“…Okay, kids. Let’s go sit down for this.”

#encanto #encanto papa bruno au #ask me anything #my writing #dolores madrigal #bruno madrigal #antonio madrigal #isabela madrigal #camilo madrigal #luisa madrigal #mirabel madrigal #pepa madrigal #julieta madrigal #alma madrigal #félix madrigal #agustín madrigal

[november-rayne]

Chapter Three: The Message

A/N: Being a God has its perks; strength, accelerated healing, stamina...

Word Count: 2200

Rating: Mature

Tags: Loki being a spoiled prince, implied smut, nothing too graphic

Chapter Index

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+ *Minors DNI*

Loki was famished by the time he had finished with the maid from the library. He had made her come three more times before he left her. He took her from behind in front of the fireplace. He had her on her back on the chaise. And the first time he took her, he lowered her onto himself, and she rode him hard while they were still on the sofa.

He forgot to ask for her name, but he made another mental note: ‘Housemaid, short, blonde: good kisser, eager to please, deft hands, comes easily.’

He walked swiftly through the palace with a broad smile, wholly sated but starving. He walked straight for his chambers, taking long strides. His library adventure had occupied most of the early evening, and he missed dinner in the main hall. Not that he cared much; while his parents were away on business, all the courtiers had been demanding too much of his attention, boring him with their tales of inferred affronts or trying to engage him in other political discussions.

“Brother!”  Distracted by his daydreams, he almost ran into his brother, Thor, as he reached the top of the staircase. “I was looking for you at dinner.”

“I missed it,” he said, not slowing his pace.

“I do not dare guess why,” Thor observed the flush in his usually pale cheeks, the messy state of his usually kempt hair, and the disheveled look of his clothes. Not to mention the enormous smile pasted on his face. “Either you just won a fight, or you were dipping your wick somewhere.”

“You are too clever, Brother. I can keep no secret from you. I am just back from the training grounds.”

“Obviously.”  Thor rolled his eyes at his brother’s weak attempt at deception. Loki’s promiscuous reputation was hardly a secret. Ever since he was a teenager, he had basked in the fleshly attention he received after growing into his looks. It was even rumored that he lost his virginity while in the company of two maidens from his history class.

He frequently seduced servants, nobles, and even commoners living in the capital city surrounding the palace. It was a power he loved wielding. He always made sure it was a win-win situation. He relished giving pleasure as much as he loved receiving it. He always used the proper spells to shield himself from getting a child on someone or catching an infection.

When Loki did court, it lasted only a short time. He found keeping company with the same person became tedious after a while. He usually broke things off before the other person got any ideas that it could be a long-term endeavor.

Thor, on the other hand, preferred to court his partners and only took them to bed once promises of commitment were exchanged.

“If you will excuse me now, Brother, I have worked up quite the appetite today and am desperate for a bath.” 

“Of course. But if you could spare some time before breakfast, I would like to get your thoughts on the message from Mother.”  Loki reached into his pocket, double-checking that he remembered the envelope.

“Yes. Yes. Nothing would make me happier.” 

Thor’s eyebrows shot up, “You haven’t read it yet, have you?” 

“Of course not. I told you I have had a hectic day—lots of meetings…and physical… combat training. I am ravenous. I will look it over once I have eaten, I promise.”

“It’s important.”  Thor gave him a serious look.

“Of course. You have my word.”

“I will meet with you here before breakfast then. Rest well, Brother.”  Thor left Loki at the double doors to his apartment.

Loki called for his chambermaid as soon as he entered his sitting room.

“Your Highness,” the maid called Sera responded with a deep curtesy.

“Draw my bath and lay out my robe. Send for my dinner, something hearty, and have it set up by the fire when I get out of the tub.”

“Right away, My Prince.”  She hurried off to the bathroom that lay just beyond Loki’s bedroom.

He removed the message from his mother, still sealed with wax in its parchment envelope. He thought about opening it now but recalling his brother’s face when he asked about it; he decided to wait until he was fed and comfortable. He left it on his desk and sunk into his chair. The activities of the day played on repeat in his mind.

“Your bath is ready, Your Highness.”

Loki headed to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him.

“Make sure those are cleaned and pressed,” he ordered unnecessarily as the chambermaid followed behind him, gathering the laundry as she went.

“Yes, My Prince.”

Loki sunk into the deep bathtub, submerging himself to wet his hair. Sera pulled a basket and a stool out of a nearby cabinet and settled down next to the tub. She selected the shampoo from the basket and began washing his hair. She used her nails to massage his scalp just the way he liked.

“Divine,” he whispered.

“Head back, please.” 

He obliged as she rinsed his hair with a large pitcher filled with warm water and lavender essence. She gently wrung out the water from his shoulder-length tresses when all the suds were gone. Next, she took her time massaging the lavender conditioning oils into his scalp with the pads of her fingers.

She loved hearing the little sounds of pleasure the prince made while she was caring for him. It made her so proud of the job she did. She would do, and has done, anything the prince desired. She combed all the knots from his hair, loving how it felt like black silk under her fingers.

“May I join you in the bath tonight, Your Highness? I could scrub your back like last time.” She kept her voice low and quiet behind him.

“As wonderful as that sounds, I am afraid I will have to pass tonight.”  As if on cue, Loki’s stomach growled loudly. “I will finish washing. You go and check on my dinner.”

“Yes, My Prince.” She sounded disappointed as she placed a stack of clean towels on the stool she just vacated. “You must be starving. I will make haste.”

Loki finished his bath; exiting the tub, he wrapped a towel around his waist. He took another towel and started patting his top half dry.

Looking in the mirror, he admired his “battle scars.” Light blue and purple mouth-sized bruises at the base of his neck, chest, and abdomen, and fingernail scratches on his back and buttocks. He gave himself a broad smile in the mirror.

‘Not bad for a day’s work,’ he thought to himself. Fortunately, as a God imbued with the magic of the Æsir, he had accelerated healing; soon there would be no trace of his lusty activities.

In his bedroom, he found his favorite robe lying across his bed. He put it on over his naked body, tying the sash loosely around his waist.

His dinner awaited him as he entered the front room of his chambers. He settled in at the little table beside the fireplace and ate his fill, enjoying every morsel. Clean and with a full belly, Loki was enjoying the warmth of the fire, almost ready to fall asleep in his chair as Sera came over to clean up.

Loki perked up slightly as he took in the view of the curve of her bum as she leaned over the table to clear it. “Thank you for your service, sweetling. You are the finest chambermaid I have ever had.”  She followed his eyes as he ran his gaze traveled over her body.

She blushed as she stacked the dishes on the tray. “It is my pleasure to serve you, Your Highness.”  She carried the tray to the table by the chamber’s main entrance and quickly returned to the prince’s side. She stared at his bare chest peeking out from his loose robe, heat rising in her body. “May I…will you be requiring-” Loki’s mouth cut her off. He kissed her deeply, wrapped one hand around her waist, and raised the other to massage her breast as he stood up from his chair.

“You have already served me so well tonight. Take the rest of the night off. I have work to do.”  She looked stricken as he stepped away from her toward his desk. “And tomorrow morning as well. I think I still remember how to dress myself.”  He picked up the message from his mother and eyed it warily.

“If you please, it would be my pleasure, My Prince.” She moved to his side again.

“Oh, of that, I am sure,” Loki said, chuckling, laying the envelope back on the desk. “I cannot have you getting too attached to me, sweetling. I will ruin you for all other men.”

Feeling emboldened, she untied the sash holding Loki’s robe closed. Her eyes drank in his beautiful, naked body. Her heart raced, and her skin felt like fire. She ran her hands down his chest, looking up at his ocean-blue eyes.

“Please?” she asked meekly.

“Mmmm….” He kissed her gently. “So bold.” He took her face into both of his hands. “I do have work to do.” He kissed her again. “But you do taste so sweet.” 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her body to his. “I have an early meeting with my brother, pet.” He gave her a deep kiss, pulling her hair ribbon, letting her hair fall from the knot on the top of her head like a chestnut waterfall down to her waist.

“He will be very cross with me if I am ill-prepared,” he kissed her again. He was untying her apron behind her back. “You should go sleep in your quarters tonight. I need my rest.”  She pouted, her bottom lip jutting out, and looked up at Loki with mock sad eyes. He laughed and kissed her bottom lip before nipping it with his teeth.

“Let me warm your bed tonight, My Prince, and in the morning, I will wake you for your early meeting.” She raised her tiptoes so that her mouth was close to Loki’s ear, “I will wake you with my mouth. If it would please my Prince.” She ran her hand over his hip and cradled his length in her palm.

With that, the last bit of Loki’s resolve faltered. The message from his mother was all but forgotten as he lifted Sera from the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her to his bedroom and threw her down on the bed.

Despite already having had copious amounts of sex that day, Loki obliged the chambermaid for hours more until she was happy and sated. She was amorous and eager, and he was delighted to please her. He was exhausted by the time she finally drifted off to sleep.

It was well after midnight when he slipped from the bed, pulling on his robe; he tried to make as little noise as possible as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

As much as he wanted to stay tangled up with the naked sleeping woman in his warm bed, he finally needed to read that message from his mother. He promised Thor, and Loki always kept his promises to his brother.

He carried the envelope to one of the large leather armchairs near the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, the fire roared back to life. Sinking in and getting comfortable, Loki took a deep breath and broke the wax seal. His eyes glided quickly over the paper covered in his mother’s elegant handwriting.

As he read, several emotions crossed his beautiful face: amusement, concern, horror, and finally, disbelief. He shook his head.

‘How? How could they do this to me? Mother knows my feelings. How could she think this is a good idea?’  As exhausted as he was a few minutes earlier, he made no move to return to his bed and the young beauty it held. Instead, he sat and stared into the fire, silently reeling from the news he had just received.

            ‘My dearest boys, your father and I continue our diplomatic tour of Asgard, hearing from the people and meeting with the Lords and Ladies of the realm.

We recently spent several weeks in the North. It is sparsely populated but extraordinarily rich in resources. Your father and I toured an emerald mine, visited the home of a local cattle farmer, and spent quite a bit of time with the Warden of the North, Lord Anderson and his family.

Which brings me to the main purpose of this letter. Your father was quite taken with their family’s story. Lord and Lady Anderson lost both of their sons and only male heirs in the battle of Svolder, leaving the sizeable demesne without an heir.

Your father, our King, has agreed to the betrothal of their daughter, Sigyn, to you, my sweet prince Loki. The betrothal contract has been signed and witnessed. You will inherit Smaragdberg on your wife’s behalf when Lord Anderson passes on to Valhalla. Until then, you and your bride will live at the palace and be tutored in Feudalism.

Your father wanted to wait to tell you when we returned, but I wanted you boys to hear it from me first. This is quite the announcement to have sprung on you in a letter. I am sorry to break the news to you in this way. Please forgive me.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list. Thanks!

XOXO- Rayne 💚

#a gift for loki #loki fanfic #sas stories #loki smut #loki x sigyn #loki odinson #loki #loki fanficiton #loki fandom #loki fan fic #agfl #loki smut and fluff

[more-than-a-princess]

@fairlybeloved asked: 025.   an abandoned scrapyard

Setting Prompts - Still Accepting!

Well, this definitely wasn't where she was supposed to be.

Sonia Nevermind, in her pressed skirt suit and heels, raised her head and sniffed the air around her in apprehension. She'd convinced her security detail that she was confident enough in her own sense of direction to walk home from her meeting on foot and that they could follow behind, as always, in the black sedans with tinted, bulletproof windows.

In reality, the Princess of Novoselic needed a break. To celebrate, initially: she'd gotten a notoriously difficult Japanese politician to bring a proposal to the Prime Minister. Someone who, usually, reserved his attention for her father and her father alone. But he had put her in charge, now that her school years were behind her and she worked full-time for the Royal Family, of her own initiatives as long as she could deliver the results. It seemed, then, that she had a real chance and she wanted to celebrate it like a real person. Or at least, someone more believable than her own sense of 'normal.' A walk on a busy street, maybe stopping for a meal or a treat, and not chauffeured by private car home.

However, she'd overestimated her sense of direction, and had ended up decidedly not in her neighborhood of Aoyama, where the Novoselic Royal Family's Tokyo condo was located. She was somewhere else, somewhere considerably more dodgy and filled with discarded metal. The scent she'd picked up reminded her of her old classmate, Kazuichi Souda, and the constant automobile parts and oil he'd been surrounded in. She wondered if there was a garage nearby, or at least somewhere with someone more knowledgeable about the area than she was. Her fine clothes already made her look out of place, her foreigner status and appearance a second reason to indicate she didn't belong there.

She needed help, and fast: she'd promised her security that she wouldn't cause trouble for them. Or too much of it anyway: she thought once she'd ducked down a side street, hidden behind a door, and then waited for the car to pass before continuing that she'd been clever but not too dangerous. Overly confident in her sense of direction and all. And now she was paying the price. Looking around, she breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted a tall man, with dark hair and hopefully a better idea of where exactly in Tokyo she was. Squaring her shoulders, she strode up to him: in the most likely case, he would be kind enough to converse with her in her fairly above-average Japanese and give her directions. In the worst case, she'd run into a serial killer and honestly, her day would be much improved by meeting a serial killer in the flesh, and not behind prison bars. She'd have so many questions to ask!

"Excuse me, sir?" She called out to him with a small wave. "Hello! I have found myself a bit lost. Could you tell me where in Tokyo I am, and the best way to get to the Aoyama neighborhood? I would appreciate it ever so much."

#more-than-a-princess answered #fairlybeloved #(Settings Prompts meme) #Non-Despair AU: The Princess of Novoselic #(Thanks for the ask! I hope this will work) #(tbh I struggled to figure out why Sonia would be in a scrapyard) #(So I went with that idea: she isn't supposed to be there) #(I also went with her adult verse because I assumed your muse isn't a student?) #(Hope that's ok)

[thedemonknownasbilly]

As We Know It: Chapter Three

Master List

Word Count: 640

Warnings: fluff and then angst

Aziraphale x Crowley

He/him for Aziraphale || he/they for Crowley

Crowley easily fell into the routine that came upon his home with Aziraphale living there, they didn’t need sleep, but they certainly weren’t about to deny a daily eight hours of cuddling and soft praises. “ ‘Ziraphale.” Crowley murmured softly, kissing the top of his fluffy white hair, a hand stroking his back. “You’re gorgeous.” That made the angel blush deeply, pressing his face into their chest and softly kissing there.

“Never as gorgeous as you,” he insisted, “you’re as beautiful as the stars you made.” Crowley chuckled and simply pressed closer to Aziraphale, legs tangled, Aziraphale’s head on their arm, free arms lazily resting on the other’s waist.

“Any plans to…” Crowley looked at the analog clock behind Aziraphale, “today?” He said once he noticed it was three in the morning.

“I was rather hoping we could go to the bookshop, I’d like to check in on Muriel and grab some old favorites along with records. If that’s okay.” Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheek.

“Always okay, but I am worried with the bookshop being an embassy and all, perhaps you’d be best to change forms?” They leaned into the touch happily, turning his head and kissing the soft fingers that caressed him.

“Suppose you’re right, my clever love.” Crowley never knew he had much a thing for praise until Aziraphale showered him in it. “What about, hm, well picking an animal is hard isn’t it?”

“Harry the Rabbit?” Crowley teased, sittting up only to trap Aziraphale in their arms as their hands planted besides his head and he softly kissed the angel. Aziraphale was more than happy to return the kiss, his fingers lightly threading into Crowley’s hair, holding the demon close.

“You remembered,” he chuckled, “would you like carrying around a rabbit though, might ruin your reputation.”

“Damned be my reputation.”

Ding.

“We’re closed today!” Muriel’s voice rang out from somewhere in the shop.

“Only me!” Crowley called out in return, a soft white rabbit nestled in his arms, Crowley found himself petting gently between the ears, feeling the rabbit melt deeper into their arms. “I came to pick up some more books and records.”

“Oh, Mr. Crowley! Yes, yes, that’s fine… I hope Azi- uh, Supreme Archangel won’t mind.” They fretted, they knew somewhat of his disappearance, but not too much, just that they were to report to Micheal if he showed up in the shop.

“Ah, if he minded I’m sure he would have had smite me by now.” Crowley chuckled, looking to the rabbit’s ears for directions on which books and records to take. “I’ll be back another day to return the ones from before. Afraid I had my arms full with this little bugger.” They smiled and looked down to the rabbit, but quickly frowning as they saw a black patch of fur, a stark contrast to the snowy white. “I think this is all I’ll take today.” The rabbit squeaked in preotest, clearly Crowley hadn’t grabbed everything.

“Change back.” Crowley said as he set the rabbit down onto their bed, having driven his usual 140+ vs the safe 90 Aziraphale preferred. watching as the angel formed.

“What was that? I had a few more books I wanted!” Aziraphale said, grateful he could finally speak.

“Show me your wings.” Crowley dismissed Aziraphale’s protest, yellow eyes full of worry behind the sunglasses.

“My wings?” Aziraphale was confused, but he could tell that this was serious to Crowley, so with great care, his wings unfurled, and a choked gasp could be heard from the demon, “what? My dear what is it?” But Crowley couldn’t speak, tears in their eyes as he pointed to the tips of the angel’s wings.

Black.

“Oh… oh,” Aziraphale whispered, looking at the few black feathers. “I suppose we knew this would happen…” he looked up to Crowley, tears in his eyes. “I’m scared.” He whispered.

“So am I…”

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #tdkab #thedemonknownasbilly #good omens s2 #aziracrow #anthony j crowley #aziraphale x crowley #azicrow #azirafell #crowly x aziraphale #az fell #azirowley #aziraley #aziraphel #crowley x aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #good ineffable omens #ineffable husbands #as we know it

[memestockpile]

the passion (1987) feel free to change as needed.

odd to be so governed by an appetite.

he liked me because i am short.

i can manage.

the others call me a dandy.

i'm telling you stories. trust me.

do it from the heart or not at all.

we're a lukewarm people for all our feast days and hard work.

will you kill people, [name]?

new to it, lad? don't be afraid.

what is luck but the ability to exploit accidents?

perhaps all romance is like that.

help me, you bitch.

what happened to your head?

you're like i was.

christ said he came not to bring peace but a sword, remember that.

i have a way with priests.

do you ever think of your childhood?

never talk happiness with a philosopher.

dinner's ready.

i like my anonymity.

time is a great deadener.

i don't care about the facts, [name], i care about how i feel.

i take what there is and i've stopped asking questions about where it comes from.

walking in the dark is like swimming underwater, except you can’t come up for air.

aristocrats are not relevant.

i'd never take a woman without giving her time to comb her hair.

then you'll come as my friend.

this year is slipping away and it will never return.

they say that every snowflake is different.

there is only the present and nothing to remember.

wherever love is, i want to be.

found it behind the altar. they always keep a good drop for themselves.

the body shuts down when it has too much to bear.

rumor has it that the inhabitants of this city walk on water.

with faith, all things are possible.

there's no knife can get through that.

i don't hate the french. i ignore them.

beware the dice and games of chance.

i come from a hairy family.

it suits you.

darkness and death are not the same. the one is temporary, the other is not.

you see, i am no stranger to love.

my heart is a reliable organ.

there are stranger things.

religion is somewhere between fear and sex.

bridges join but they also separate.

i never go to confession.

god doesn't want us to confess, he wants us to challenge him.

anything now to relieve the ache.

learn to look after yourself. don't rely on the good natures of others.

how intimate would you like to be with god?

lovers are not at their best when it matters.

i can't make love to you, but i can kiss you.

i'm surprised at myself talking in this way.

i never take off my boots away from home.

gambling is not a vice, it is an expression of our humanness.

in spite of what the monks say, you can meet god without getting up early.

you belonged. i envied you that.

i never tell a lie, but i don't tell the truth to everyone.

if you should leave me, my heart will turn to water and flood away.

there's no such thing as a limited victory.

watching my comrades die was not the worst thing about that war, it was watching them live.

not much touches us, but we long to be touched.

only then can you begin to survive.

not all men are as fortunate as ulysses.

what you risk reveals what you value.

i was bored.

such games are better not played at all.

the world is surely wide enough to walk without fear.

what are you running away from?

this is the price we agreed.

the women, they're always the clever ones.

love can survive.

death in battle seems glorious when you are not in battle.

beware of old enemies in new disguises.

you can stay with us.

men are violent. that’s all there is to it.

what's paris? just a few boulevards and some expensive shops.

don't tempt the spirits.

there are stories i could tell you that would make your hair stand on end.

i keep it for luck.

you can do that when you're dead.

i want to make my own mistakes. die in my own time.

greatness is hard to be sensible about.

saints love to be whipped.

i don't want anything to do with you.

it's none of your business.

it will be easier if you come with me now.

you must protect what you have won.

no sane man would live like that.

you must stay here until i am ready for you.

do you know what you're doing?

you've grown up.

will you stay?

i have heard that when a duckling opens its eyes, it will attach itself to whatever it first sees, duck or not.

i stay here by choice.

i find the air much the same in every country.

one battlefield is very like another.

you don't believe me? go and see for yourself.

#askbox meme #roleplay #inbox meme #ask meme #inbox rp meme #askbox #meme #roleplay meme #ask #rp meme #rp sentence meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence starter meme #roleplay sentence meme #tumblr roleplay #historical roleplay #rp inbox meme #tumblr rp #rp #askbox rp

[recomvery]

Hi. I'm sorry to disturb you but I've been feeling stupid. Stupid as in dumb. I'm not a bad student, I'm not talking academically. I mess up a lot. I am slow and I get things later than most people (not in my studies; I am average at that. I'm in STEM, so it is difficult too). I'm sorry. It is getting long. I just wanted some advice. I am afraid that when I get out in the real world, people are going to destroy me, because I am not clever and smart.

Hello love,

People won't destroy you, what will destroy you is self loathing, it ruins everything. First of all, I am sure you are plenty smart, smart enough to have a position in STEM, second of all, it's not always being smart that's important, mostly it's effort. Persistence. If you show up to work every day and do your work with care and intentionality, if you keep up with reading a bit of academic literature in your field of practice, you will become competent in your field and no one will give a shit if you're gifted or bright. You can learn to do a job well. Everyone starts somewhere and it's normal to not be crazy talented in the beginning, that's why you learn. But a self depricating attitude will ruin your relationships at work, people appreciate confidence. If you don't know something, ask, be attentive, write it down in a journal. Show people that you care. Be positive and curious, you have done so amazing getting to this point and you have yourself to thank for that. You already achieved stuff. You already are amazing. Messing up is ok. Feeling pressure is ok. That's normal, don't let it get to you. You will get to a point where you know your way around and how to do things correctly if you keep listening and being attentive. I know for a fact this is all about difficulties starting out and not having found your place yet. One day you will have a position in stem where you do similar tasks all day and know exactly how to do them. You have to keep going and take care of your mental health in the process. No more talking yourself down period. Like at all. Work on building up your confidence in your free time, get a book, watch some videos. I know you can do this. Don't give up. You don't have to be the best/ one of the best. As long as you keep improving you got this. Your attitude towards yourself matters so much in your studies. I'm so proud of you already ♡

[bi-bard]

Your Past and Mine are Parallel Lines; Stars All Aligned and They Intertwined - Mal Oretsev Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: Your Past and Mine are Parallel Lines; Stars All Aligned and They Intertwined

Pairing: Mal Oretsev X Reader

Word Count: 2,271 words

Warning(s): mention of stealing, slight self-worth issues

Summary: [Inspired by "All of the Girls You Loved Before" by Taylor Swift] [Post-Season 2 Finale] Mal takes on the title of Sturmhond and soon meets a thief for hire, (Y/n). He recruits them at the direction of Tamar and Tolya, not realizing how much his life was going to change after that.

Author's Note: I think the show version of Mal is over hated. That's my hot take of the day.

Also, I've been looking for an excuse to use this song because who am I if I don't write a story for every Taylor Swift song that I can get my hands on.

--------------------

I couldn't help that sometimes I would go a while without a job.

I couldn't help that the idea of being tied to a single crew made me just a little sick to my stomach.

I had to get by somehow. I could usually get hired quickly and get some decent pay, but sometimes when the chips are down, you need a little extra to get you by.

It always felt silly going back to stealing out of coat pockets or off of wrists. It made me feel like a kid again. But I guess it made for good practice.

I wasn't one to get caught. Mainly because I didn't get too excited. I was careful. I knew what I could get away with grabbing and what I couldn't. I knew when certain crowds were more observant than others.

When I found a very crowded bar, I knew that I could get away with far more than I could on a street somewhere.

I scanned the room as subtly as I could.

My eyes immediately latched onto the gold compass hanging on a man's neck. It was hanging low enough that my hand wouldn't look too obvious when I reached up. There was so much on the man's neck that I doubted he would notice it leaving his neck.

I was quiet, careful. I moved as normally as I could until I got close enough to the man. I offered a small smile, acting like I just needed to get around him as I snagged the compass from around his neck.

I was certain that he hadn't noticed.

I was almost to the door when I heard a voice behind me, clearer than the voices of the other patrons, "Hey! Give that back!"

I shoved the last person between me and the door out of my way as I took off running.

I took off down the main road until I could find an alleyway.

As I continued through the twists and turns, trying to put as much distance between me and the man as possible, I found myself almost laughing. That rare for me. I usually just got my work done and got away as soon as possible. I never took the time to enjoy it. But this... this was different.

I yelled as my arm was snagged.

I was turned around and shoved back against the wall of the alley. I was left face-to-face with the man that I had been running from. He was holding both of my wrists against the wall. His grip was tight enough that I was certain that there was going to be a bruise left behind.

"Let me go!" I snapped.

"Give me back my compass," he replied.

I just pulled at my arms again, trying to get free. I tried to kick at him, but none of my hits were landing.

A new voice spoke up, "(Y/n)?"

I looked over at the new voice. "Tolya?"

"You know them?" the man holding my wrists turned to look at Tolya.

Tolya nodded. "We worked with them ages ago."

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n)," Tamar explained, walking around the man to stand on his other side. I looked at her, a small grin on my face. "Quick, clever, fiercely independent, and always aware of every single escape route. Thief for hire."

"Hey!" I snapped.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't call me that!"

"What are you then," the man asked.

"More of a tracker. I'm just better at tracking more... notable things than just animals. I'm more than just a thief."

The man looked at the compass in my hand, raising his eyebrow a bit.

"Don't get all high and mighty about this," I said. "You don't truly think that I wouldn't recognize Sturmhond's compass, do you? If anything, I'm in the first steps to returning his property."

"That's a fun story, actually," Tolya replied.

"Why?"

"Because he's Sturmhond," he pointed at the man.

I scoffed. "Nice try. Sturmhond's blonde... and a little less of a prick."

The man glared at me.

"You're holding me against a wall, I can call you a prick."

"He had the title passed to him," Tamar explained. "Meaning that compass is his now."

"Well then, I'll return it once my arms are released."

"Sturmhond" relented, letting my arms go. I saw Tamar shift, ensuring that I couldn't run for it. I offered a fake smile before placing the compass in the man's palm.

"So, if Sturmhond's a title, do I get to know your true name?"

"Mal."

"That was easier to get out of you than I expected," I muttered. "These two introduced me already. And I'd say that it's nice to meet you, but that would be dishonest."

"Still jumping from job to job," Tolya asked.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

"We're doing good work," Tamar said. "You should join us. Get out of here."

"Why would I do that?"

"Get away from the city with your face plastered on wanted posters."

I looked at Mal.

"Wouldn't you rather take your hood off for a while and not fear being arrested?"

I took a deep breath. "Getting out of the city doesn't mean that no one is going to hunt for me."

"I have a personal connection to the king. I could get him to ensure your safety."

I paused, looking between the trio.

"One trip," Mal pushed. "After that, we can drop you wherever you'd like to go or you can continue traveling with us. Your decision."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Fine. One trip. That's it."

"Yes!" Tolya pushed his way past Mal to hug me. "I've been waiting for you to join us."

"I'm certain you have," I muttered. He finally stepped back. "So, when do I get to see the ship?"

That one trip turned into two. Two into three. And on and on and on.

Mal and I patched things up rather quickly after our... unfortunate first meeting. We went from a shaky partnership to a far more genuine friendship.

We were often paired up together when working. According to Tamar, our skills paired up well together. According to Tolya's smile when he saw the both of us, I knew there was something else on both of their minds. Tolya had read too much poetry to simply let things lie where they were.

They did have a point.

Mal and I worked well together when he wasn't the one that I was stealing from. I had grown very used to being around him. It was great.

I was convinced that it was simply a good friendship. Two people looking past a bad first impression and finding similarities where they didn't expect to.

Until one night.

We were in the middle of a mission. I was tasked with sneaking a key off of a man. He wore it around his neck, easy within reach so he could brag about his high-paying work to any poor bastard who would listen.

His voice was grating. And it only got worse the more that he drank.

I had to wait for him to get shitfaced before I could make any move.

He was focused on yelling at different people around the bar. He was trying to show that he was the big man there. He was in charge.

He drunkenly called for a toast for little to no reason.

While everyone was chugging their drink from the toast, I passed by, snagging the key off of his throat. The alcohol had made it so he wasn't very observant. Good for me. I got out before he said anything.

No, it wasn't until I was a little way down the street that I heard a drunk yell of angry, slurred words.

I ran to the alleyway where Mal had been waiting for me so we could both get back to the ship. He let out a relieved huff when he finally spotted me.

"That took you ages-"

I pressed a hand over his mouth before silently motioning for him to stay quiet. He nodded. I pulled my hand back and fixed my eyes on the small part of the street that I could see from where I was.

The drunk man stumbled past the alley that we were hiding in. A few men were behind him.

"This feels very familiar," Mal mumbled after it seemed like the coast was clear.

"Last time we were in a place like this, you slammed me against a wall," I replied. "Planning a repeat incident, Mal?"

I turned to look at him. The breath was nearly knocked out of me. His eyes were completely trained on me. Studying me. Looking for so much detail that it almost forced my heart to stop where it was.

"Mal," I muttered. I couldn't tell what I was trying to do. Get his attention, give him a warning, give him permission.

He leaned forward, kissing me briefly before very quickly pulling away. He tried to ramble about which way we needed to go, but I stopped him, leaning in and kissing him again. Properly this time.

That was the night that everything between us shifted.

Mal immediately seemed more accustomed to being open about his feelings than I was. He made little to no effort to hide how the kiss had affected him. I was hesitant. I didn't want to face the chance that this could all blow up in my face.

But he wore me down.

Probably on accident.

He would never push anything. He would smile at me during meetings, protect me more when we were out, and compliment me more. He spoke in ways that reminded me of the poets Tolya had told me about.

We kissed again. In his office. If that was the right name for it.

It was soft. Less rushed than the first one. He whispered how much he wanted to be with me. I found myself agreeing with little hesitation.

And it was like something very suddenly clicked. Being with him suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world. Letting his hand touch mine was comforting instead of terrifying. Any future kisses felt like puzzle pieces clicking together instead of gut-churning.

It was all just... right.

We had always spent time together but this was so different. And it was worth any and all teasing we got for it. I was happy. I was finally truly happy.

I soon decided that the best times with Mal were during night watch.

On the nights that I was part of the night watch, Mal would often come up and spend time with me. We'd mumble quietly to each other as we watched the waters and the stars. It was nice. Probably the closest that our lives allowed for a date. Privateer work didn't really allow for romantic dinners or walks around town with our hands intertwined.

"Have I told you how much I've grown to really appreciate our nights out here," I asked one night.

"I think it's come up a few times now," he replied. "Why?"

I paused for a moment. "I just... I want you to know that I... I adore everything about this... about us. I don't think that I say it enough."

"I promise, you do," he said. "I really enjoy having this time with you too. These nights are my favorite. I feel like I get to see parts of you that you don't show other people. And I think they're amazing."

I looked down, feeling my face warm up. I heard a quiet chuckle come from Mal's lips.

"I'm sorry, am I seeing the great thief for hire be truly flustered for the first time," he moved so he was leaning in front of my face.

"Shut up," I grumbled, turning my head even further away. "I've just... I've never had someone talk about me like that... I've just always been an annoyance or a useful tool or something. To have someone talk about me like you just did... It's strange."

"A good strange?"

I turned back to him. He was now leaning against the railing of the ship, just looking at me. Not letting his attention drift for a second.

"Yeah," I replied. "A good strange."

He leaned over and kissed the side of my head.

I closed my eyes as he did, allowing myself to truly enjoy the moment while I had it.

"For what it's worth, this is all a very good strange to me too," Mal admitted as he pulled back.

"What do you mean?"

"It's... Well... The last time I was with someone like... this, I felt drawn to her," he explained. "Like I didn't have a choice in it. I was just meant to be... there. And then that feeling just disappeared. Suddenly, I didn't know what I was meant to do."

I took a deep breath, "And now?"

A grin pulled at his lips. "I feel like I had a choice in it... in this. I chose you... and it feels like one of the best things I've ever done."

I felt a grin of my own forming.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. His hand moved to cup the side of my face. My hand touched his and my lips followed his lead.

I leaned back first, smiling at him. "I... I love you, Mal."

"I love you too."

And it was like all of the steps to get to him fell away. Now, there was only him... this.

And I was perfectly happy to only see the love I had finally earned.

--------------------

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Some Original Characters

#fanfiction #imagine #x reader #mal oretsev imagine #mal oretsev x reader #mal oretsev fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction

[chrisevanssmash]

Ex! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

summary: Ransom Drysdale is always around

Warnings: stalking, masturbation, ransom is a bit a creep, size kink (blink and you’ll miss it) and really bad writing?

Authors note: Hi! This is my first writing on here, so I am sorry if this isn’t good I’ve just thought of this and thought I would put it here! Enjoy!

Ransom had a clear view. He was perked on a balcony opposite y/n’s apartment. Ransom and y/n broke up over 1 month ago. Y/n cried for the first 2 weeks and she still does now however Ransom was out sleeping with every bird he could see, trying to forget about his girl.

Y/n walked into Ransom house on the 23th December happy to finally be in their shared house, y/n was taking off her scarf and gloves “ranny?” She yelled, there was not answer, he always in? She took off her boots and started walking up the stairs when she heard it. She heard passionate sounds coming from their shared room. She froze, tears forming in her eyes, she could feel her heart drop to her stomach and it felt like it shattered into millions. The door handle snapped and y/n walked in while her ranny was ontop of a brown haired pretty girl. Ransom froze and got up quickly.

“Baby, I swear it isn’t what it looks like” he spoke with nerves.

Its not what it looks like? Is he stupid? Of course it’s what isn’t looks like!

He covered the girls face with a pillow and walked towards y/n.

His eyes were full of regret

Y/n just looked at him up and down as if he was a monster. She couldn’t even look at him, so she went, left him and so did the girl he was deep inside not even 5 minute ago.

Y/n left, and winded out of the city, she never found love in the city it was all just a lie, she just sat in self-pity and cried in the car.

When they both left Ransom was lost? Confused? Angry? All of it. He smashed a glass into pieces, around the time y/n was down the road.

5 days go by. He’s been intoxicated with so much alcohol he doesn’t know where he is. All he sees is y/n. In his mind, he knows a place, it’s somewhere he goes when he thinks of y/n and the life they had. In his (both) head they get married, buy a big house to raise their kids, but at the snap of a finger it’s all gone. All he want to do is lay back and look into her eyes, his life is now pretending and hoping they find their way back.

3 weeks after the break

Ransom found himself across a balcony smoking a cigarette. He started smoking right after she left, ransom was very clever he knew how to do stuff expect he lit the wrong end of his cigarette the first time, now he seemed to master it, he was about to go back in and go sleep until he saw a figure, not just any figure it was one he was waiting for, he sat on floor and watched from his dark room, it was y/n, getting undressed.

Ransom pulled his cock out and started stroking himself, imagining it was her small hands caged around his cock. He’s always forgotten how beautiful his apartment was out of the city, it still smelt like y/n and that’s what got him more rilled up, he couldn’t stop, “fuck, y/n” he sighed as he quickened his pace, then just like that he cummed so hard. In his head he saw her, her beautiful face.

His y/n

The end

Sorry this is so bad, just remember it’s my first time lol!

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans characters

[likeafairytale]

"..... In exchange for what?" - a mistrustful Yasmeen to Kai after he gave her the pearl necklace

“What?” Malachai frowned to such question. He was a bit lost, and it must show, but Yasmeen seemed, as for her, unfazed.

“What do you want in exchange for the necklace?” She repeated, and finally the words registered into the prince's brain. He blushed at the insinuation, and he immediately shook his head.

“Oh, nothing! I want nothing from you.”

“Princes do not offer such a pretty necklace to a maid without wanting something in return.”

She was clever, he noticed. Such a good quality in a woman. Malachai did not know the girl very much, –it actually was only the third time they were alone together– all he knew of her was what Calypso was sharing with him; that she was her maid, she was very quiet but always there somewhere, even when she didn't see her, that Yasmeen did not like being close to people, and from her previous words, he could easily understand why she didn't like being close to people. He was ready to bet that she hated man's company more than anything, and if his doubt were true, he couldn't blame her for that. Of course, the man was too polite to ask such a private question, but everything in her behaviour, from the way she was wary, to the way she was sitting far away from him right now, in Farore's church that she was always visiting when she had spare time, made him believe he was right on that.

Malachai was still holding the necklace that he was now looking. He was wondering if it wasn't just a stupid idea he had; it came from the heart, from a right place, but he understood now that it could be misinterpreted, and he should have thought about it sooner. For once in his life, he acted before thinking. He did not know why. It was so unlike him. The merman was a thinker before everything else, evaluating each situation before making a rush decision –something that tell the difference between him and his younger siblings, who are more prone to act before thinking about the situation. And yet, when he saw the necklace, back home, he couldn't help but imagine the maid with it, and he just did not think twice. Seeing how mistrustful she was, he thought he might have done something wrong...

“I want nothing from you.” He then said firmly, hoping that she will believe him. It might have worked a little, because he seemed to see her shoulder lowered, she seemed less tense, but still wary. “See it as a thank you gift.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of my sister. I know Calypso can be... difficult.”

“The princess is a delight to be around.”

“Then we probably don't talk about the same princess.”

He tried humour, which he was bad at, and all she did was frowning. She said nothing, and if she found it funny she did not show it, and Malachai couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed by the lack of reaction. He made it his mission to make her laugh one day. After a moment he finally found the courage to put the necklace into her hands, their fingers softly touched, and this contact was enough for Malachai to withdraw his hand so quickly that the necklace fell on the ground. Yasmeen frowned once more to such behaviour and picked the jewellery up.

“This is very generous of you, but I cannot accept it.”

“Why not?”

“I am not allowedto have pretty things...” She whispered, and he could see a sort of embarrassment in her eyes, while she tried to return the necklace to him. “If the High Queen found out I-”

“I'm sure you're smart enough to find a way to hide it.”

“I cannot go against my Queen's order.”

“Alright, then, I lied. I do want something from you.”

To those words, Yasmeen's heart dropped, and she felt more unease than usual. This wasn't the first time she heard those words, but she never thought that she'd heard them in the quiet of the church, the only sacred and safe place she knew. Malachai saw panic in her eyes, even though she was trying to hide it. He felt bad about the rollercoaster of emotion he was putting her and immediately shook his head.

“I want you to keep the necklace. That's my only request. You can do whatever you want with it, but I won't take it back. It's yours now.”

“I... alright then. Thank you, my lord.”

“Please, call me Malachai. Or Kai, I don't mind even way.”

She nodded, but he knew deep down that he will have to be more convincing and insist even more for her to call him by his name. For a moment, he looked at her while she was looking at the pearl necklace. He wasn't sure of it, but he thought she was content, at least he hoped she was. He couldn't help but studying her. Her face, her eyes, her demeanour. He couldn't help but found her fascinating. He did not know why, though, but he did not care. All he wanted was to know her more.

Yasmeen looked at him and he smiled awkwardly. He might have been aware of it, for he then looked away, a bit embarrassed. Malachai cleared his throat, before standing up, looking back at the young girl.

“I will let you to your peace now.”

“Thank you, for the necklace.”

“Is it alright with you if I come visit you here?"

“I suppose it is, yes.”

“Then, I hope to see you soon, Yasmeen.”

#malachai blackwater #kai x yasmeen #maleen #malachai writing prompt #writing prompt #i am not so proud (as usual) #but the scene was cute in my mind #yasmeen being wary abt it #and him just wanting to do something nice #it's adorable #he'll hate himself for being so awkward lmao #he isn't like this usually so that will be so new to him #they are so cute #and so lost when it comes to feelings lmao #that's the begining of kai having a crush #icanbeyourgenie

[saibug1022]

For Magnus, Apollo, and that FINE AS FUCK lavender bg3 mc:

I am obsessed with the how others see them, vs how they see themselves, vs how you the all-knowing creator see them.

But also like, with symbolism (ex as a cloud/as a flower/as a type of water, etc) 👀👀👀

THIA I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOU. I'm about to talk so fucking much. So I loaded some classification things into a randomizer and used one for each character

let's do this

Magnus (Windverse/LoA) - Animal

If you asked other people what animal Magnus is, they'd say a panther, something intimidating and powerful, yet elegant and reserved.

But if you asked Magnus himself, well first he'd refuse to answer because he'd think the question is ridiculous, but then he'd say an owl because they're known as clever and tend to represent wisdom, which is the piece of himself he's put so much value in and relied on his whole life.

However, I've always associated Magnus with butterflies, specifically blue butterflies. Butterflies obviously represent change and rebirth which Magnus has done multiple times, breaking free from his old life for a new one and becoming someone new. But blue butterflies also represent joy and love, and the love of others (both platonic and romantic) and Magnus's own love are what showed him the joy in life and let him become one more version of himself: a happy one.

Apollo (The Elementalists) - Flower

If you asked most other people what kind of flower Apollo would be, they'd say a sunflower for pretty obvious reasons. Apollo is bright, kind, and passionate, and I mean. It's literally called a sunflower. It's very surface level but unfortunately most peoples' view of Apollo is very surface level.

If you asked Apollo what kind of flower he'd be, honestly he'd probably say a sunflower at first too, but if he thought about it for a second, he would say a hibiscus. Hibiscus flowers are bright and colorful and grow tall in warm climates. But they need sun to to bloom and even then only bloom for a day, closing again by night which is exactly how Apollo sees himself. Without his sun attunement, aka his power, he would be nothing. To go even further, when people look at him he's bright and beautiful but as soon as he's alone he's terrified and sad and stressed.

For my assessment, I'd say a lotus flower. I may be biased because it's my second favorite flower but Lotus's bloom up through muddy water and still come up beautiful which is exactly what Apollo did (symbolically at least). He was hunted by Raife from the moment he was born, had his memories erased and childhood stole, lost his parents, was lied to his entire life and was raised without magic and his twin, finally found somewhere he felt he belonged only to be hunted again, nearly lost his friend and almost died, then he was accosted by Kane and tortured, then (in my version of canon) ended up losing his mentor and hunted by his own people. But he came out of it beautiful and bright

Kieran (BG3 Durge) - Element

Most people when asked would definitely say Kieran is fire. Dangerous, unpredictable, (hot-) and passionate, maybe warm, but destructive.

If you ask Kieran themself, they may also say fire honestly, for the same reasons as every one else. But if you find them in a nicer mood they might say earth. Dark caves and sharp things but equally full of life and beauty. Something determined and strong.

But I would say water because more than anything Kieran is adaptable, no matter what situation they end up in, no matter who they're with who what they're facing, they always end up on top. More than that, Kieran just has this deep sadness within them that is best reflected in water. Water is also a symbol of transformation and healing which is a summary of Kieran's entire arc. Even better, it's what he evokes in so many of the people around him, not just themself.

#oc asks #asks #magnus bishop #apollo solaris #kieran (durge) #playchoices #choices #laws of attraction #into the windverse #the elementalists #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 durge

[sarajs-dev]

I made a new logo recently, I've never really made a logo before. Somewhere in my late teens I started to always struggle to settle on any kind of pseudonym, brand, or identity *cough*. My online handles were always just... my real name. That was the best I could do. Nothing else seemed complete enough, or I'd worry I wouldn't want to stick with it.

This butterfly I drew is different though, it captures the essence of an important time in my life in a way that is very personal to me. This is the first version I drew and I like the little symmetrical "S" shapes in the middle. It's strange but also a relief to find some way beyond just "Shaun" to express and signify who I am. It's also just pretty. The spread of cold colours is something I also like a lot. Sadly I found for the purpose of most platforms this liney version of the logo doesn't look great when scaled down. The lines are too thin. So the solid version you see in my avatar won out in most places. I also changed the wing pattern to resemble a video game controller which I felt extremely clever about.

I still really like this line version though and hope to find more excuse to use it. Maybe I'll make some stickers for Patreon one day or something.

I hope you all enjoyed this extremely self-indulgent explanation of me finding a visual identity.