#i hope you like them because i truly appreciated to create his beautiful hair *-*

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | two

prologue | one | two | three |

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she knows who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: violence, injuries, description of injuries, PTSD, bad language, again The King of Hybern...

A/N: so here it is, the second part. I really hope that you're all liking it. It's starting to settle, our protagonists are meeting and it's getting more interesting!! As always, any kind of support would be greatly appreciated! Thank you all for your time❤️

Nimue stands in the middle of her enormous room: a chamber so deep within her father's castle, it is carved directly into the mountain rock. She doesn't see natural light, hear the ocean waves, or watch birds fly.

Not that she has ever seen them. She simply knows they exist, how they sound, how they smell, because the Cauldron has told her so.

She observes her own reflection in the huge mirror on the wall. The girl she sees is truly beautiful. She possesses an ethereal beauty that seems to emanate from within her, as if she were imbued with the same magic that created her. Her long, silky hair falls in wavy cascades of silver, with flashes of light that seem to dance with every movement. Her eyes are of a hypnotic color, like the whitest of pearls, shining with ancient wisdom and fierce determination. Her skin is pale as the moon, yet it gleams with a radiant glow that seems to illuminate even the darkest night. Her figure is slender and elegant.

The reflection the mirror returns is that of an ancient, wise, powerful being.

However, she only feels like a child, surrounded by things she knows from others' words.

When her father isn't listening, Nimue asks the Palace cooks to recount to her what the world beyond the walls is like. In particular, it's the words of old Ferlan that she enjoys hearing the most: she describes the landscape beyond the cliffs on which the castle stands, the dense enchanted forests, the fertile plains where people live in beautiful villages, the beaches of black sand and cold water, the cliffs where giants were said to have once dwelled...

It's those stories that comfort Nimue's lonely heart, that shed light on her shadow-filled world.

Before she knows it, she's wandered so far in her daydreams that she doesn't even know what time it is.

That's when she feels it in the air, even before hearing it. That sweet scent that accompanies The Voice...

"You have everything in your power to be free, child," it whispers in her ear. The scent, the presence, like a smoke-shaped entity, swirls around her, caressing her cheeks and tucking strands of hair behind her ears. "No one would dare stand in your way. Once you decide, the world will bow to your will. Your father will submit to your will..."

Nimue violently shakes her head. The Voice steps back, but when she becomes still again, it clings to her skin once more.

"But father... what has he done to me?"

The Voice laughs, and Nimue feels like she's going to be sick.

"What has father done to you? You're foolish, child. Foolish. Foolish. Innocent. Foolish," it spits out word after word, and Nimue feels them like daggers.

"Father brought me into the world, father gave me life. I owe everything to father, and he asks me to fight in his name. To protect my people from those who wish us harm."

Nimue clings to her own words like a mantra.

"Father loves me..." she whispers into the air, for The Voice is no longer there with her. She wonders if it was ever really there at all, or if it was just feverish imaginings to soothe her own loneliness.

Father loves her. But she knows he's not a good person. Nimue knows what lies beyond, and she longs to see the sunlight, to see the sea, to feel the rain on her skin...

Nimue knows her father isn't a good person. But neither is she.

She knows she has to kill her father. But where will she find the courage? She only knows these four walls that surround her. What will she do when she kills him? Will the Cauldron be angry with her? What kind of child kills their own father?

She spins, and spins, and spins with the same questions for years. Since the moment she gained enough awareness in her fae body to realize that her "father" wasn't the hero of the story, and she was just another puppet in his conquest game.

The only thing she was sure of was that she wouldn't be the good one either. That she wouldn't let her father win that game.

With light steps, she leaves her room and decides to wander around the castle for a bit. Curiosity is what moves her.

In these past weeks, her father's castle has been filled with various guests of all kinds, a very diverse selection. The legions of the attor, her father's elite soldiers, the highest-ranking officials, there were even two males from Prythian and a few simple humans.

Humans. Nimue had been smelling them for weeks in every corner of the castle. That stale stench that seeped into her pores.

She wondered what reasons the King would have to bring humans into the cleanliness of his castle, but as always, even if she asked, the answer would be the same: politics is not Nimue's concern. Nimue only fights, fights, fights.

However, today the hallways were surprisingly empty. Empty of humans, attor, and even the guards.

Where was everyone?

And it was right at that moment, in that desolate and gloomy hallway, that Nimue noticed the silence.

There were guards all over the castle. Magical guards isolating something, someone. There was something blocking her senses, and no matter how much she extended her magical perception, she couldn't feel the Cauldron.

The Cauldron.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized she was alone without the presence of the Cauldron. If until then she had felt lonely, she realized it was nothing compared to the pressure she felt in her chest.

What was happening?

She began to run, like a lost child in an enchanted forest.

While she had never seen the Cauldron after she emerged, she had always lived with its constant presence in the castle. She knew it was there, it comforted her, it kept her company. Sometimes she even believed that The Voice she heard was the Cauldron itself, seeking to keep her company.

She kept running, and running, and running, not knowing where to. As she turned a corner, she felt the need to grip the white stone wall so tightly that she felt a nail break.

What was that pain in her chest? By the Mother, she had never experienced an arrow to the heart, but she imagined that's how it must feel. What was happening to her?

As soon as she caught her breath, she continued running somewhere, with that throbbing pain between her ribs.

And she heard it:

My creature, my sweet creature.

She stopped abruptly, all senses alert and panting like a racehorse.

Come, princess. I have gifts for you. Follow my voice, sweet girl.

Nimue almost sobbed. That voice, sweet, like a mother's... The Cauldron was calling her.

She finally saw it clearly: she knew which doors to open, which stairs to climb, which corners to turn. She saw it so clearly that for a moment she was blinded by all that power that the Cauldron emanated.

"I'm coming!" she cried, desperate.

She knew which door it was behind, and when she opened it, the wave of power that greeted her completely stunned her.

And then she began to process her surroundings: in the throne room, there were all the guards, all the creatures that formed her father's court. All surrounding a truly grotesque scene.

Nimue put on the intimidating mask she had practiced so much, while her gaze danced from figure to figure: an Ilyrian (an Ilyrian male, she hadn't seen any!) lying on the floor, its black and powerful wings now nothing more than torn limbs and patches of skin. A little further away, another Ilyrian male (by the Mother, two in one day!), this one with an arrow lodged in his chest and kneeling in a pool of his own blood, next to him a beautiful blonde female with tears streaming down her face.

She kept looking, there was everything in that room. When everyone recognized her presence and turned to look at her, she felt as if time stood still as she advanced, making her way among the guards' armors. With her head held high and her curious gaze, she tried to calm her own nerves and continued observing.

There were humans there, those women her father had once called queens. Queens of what? Also that hateful Jurian, with whom she had coincided a couple of times, enough to decide he was nothing but trash. And two females...

Her gaze returned to the group beyond, where behind the Ilyrian she found a pair of fae, and unwittingly she recognized him, his darkness.

Rhysand.

She frowned and continued walking towards her father, circling the whole scene while feeling all eyes on her, following her graceful movements.

Come, child. And look at the gift, look at it...

And she set her eyes on the Cauldron.

She forgot about that phantom arrow lodged in her chest, and stopped next to her father, her gaze fixed on the Cauldron.

She felt her father's accusatory gaze on her, but putting that aside, he spoke:

"You arrive at the perfect moment, my dear daughter," and after those words, she felt as if everyone in the room breathed again after her untimely interruption.

What the hell was going on there? What was the High Lord Rhysand doing in her castle? Who were those accompanying him?

"You arrive at the perfect moment to witness the miracle of the Cauldron. To witness the demonstration these humans will perform for it..."

Her father continued speaking, but Nimue completely ignored him. She just stood there, next to the King of Hybern, and analyzed the whole situation.

The two fae males who had been hanging around her house for weeks, the blonde and the redhead, bound by her father's magic. Weren't they allies? Why was her father imprisoning them?

A little further away, the two guards holding one of the two human girls began pushing her towards the Cauldron.

She heard screams, pleas, denials from all sides. The King spoke, the human Queens, the fae female next to Rhysand, some of them shouting at each other.

But Nimue only had eyes for the poor human they were pushing towards the Cauldron.

What were they going to…?

And as if she were a feather, they lifted her above the edge of the Cauldron and submerged her in a single motion, plunging her until she lost sight of her.

Nimue felt pure terror. Memories that weren't hers flooded her.

Skin dissolving, bones breaking, desperate screams.

She screamed into the air, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob that escaped her chest. Her father stopped her by pulling on the leash, even before she had thought of throwing herself towards the poor girl.

Rage, rage, rage, rage, rage.

Everything that happened afterward was like a blink.

The Cauldron spat the girl onto the flagstones as if she were a fish out of water.

Look, child. I have given you a sister. I have created a sister for you.

Nimue breathed so fast she thought she was going to faint.

The people present were saying things, shouting, crying, laughing.

The other human fought tooth and nail against the guards, her screams piercing Nimue's eardrums, who only let herself be infected by the rage of that poor human.

Her rage. Rage. Rage.

The rage that boiled in every nerve of her being. It bubbled at the tips of her fingers, beneath her skin, in her eyes, everywhere.

If she opened her mouth, she felt like her own rage would burst forth in torrents, like a river after the snows.

Her rage was going to burst out, all over her father.

The second human kept fighting. Nimue never imagined the human spirit could be so untamed.

And the hand of that woman pointing at her father made something change in the air.

Nimue felt her leash loosen, felt her father getting a little nervous.

And she saw the moment.

She saw the weakness in the air, the King's doubt.

And she embraced it.

The second human emerged from the Cauldron, transformed into something.

And Nimue exploded.

A beam of white light burst from her chest, throwing her father backward. The King's head hit one of the columns, and everyone present in the room recoiled at such a wave of power.

What rage. What immense rage. It consumed her inside, burned her. So much, so much rage.

She raised an arm and pointed at her father, feeling how, again, energy rose from her feet to the tips of her fingers. She struck the King again with all that rage.

"You're a monster!" she shouted. She shouted it again and again, while feeling that with every pulse of power she directed towards him, she was gradually breaking down his shields.

However, the King of Hybern laughed, kneeling on the flagstones and trying to regain his composure. A venomous, disgusting laugh that made bile rise in Nimue's mouth.

In a last attempt to take control of the situation, Nimue raised a shield in the center of the room, around the Cauldron. In two agile leaps, she positioned herself next to Rhysand.

"Show me a place," she demanded. Rhysand clung to the brunette female beside him, tears streaming down his face. His gaze jumped from Nimue to the Ilyrian males, from the Ilyrian males to the new fae females, and back to Nimue. "Tell me a place and I'll get you out of here! Quickly, show me!" the princess demanded again.

The guards pounded Nimue's white shield again and again, and behind her, she felt the King of Hybern standing up.

Her gaze met Rhysand's again, and the male, trembling, took Nimue's hand.

"To Velaris," he managed to whisper.

Nimue didn't know how, but as soon as she heard the name, she knew exactly where it was, what it was. She chose whom to take: the two Ilyrian males, the beautiful blonde fae female, the two girls who had been submerged in the Cauldron, the female clinging to Rhysand, and finally Rhysand himself, whose hand Nimue held when she let her magic transport her and everyone else away from there. Away from Hybern. Away from her home.

To Velaris.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading

If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! Thank you for your support 🥰

#azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #rhysand #cassian #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you

[sykestarot]

what attracts people to you?

1-2-3 (left to right)

I do not own any of these images

Hi guys I'm back for this weeks reading! Thanks so much for all the love on the other post it really means a lot! I hope these messages resonate as well. Thanks for stopping by yet again! :)

Pile 1

"Just wondering when you said I'm beautiful, was I being lied to?"

(2 of swords (rx); ace of cups; 5 of swords; 4 of swords (rx); queen of pentacles; 2 of cups (rx)) I’m feeling for you pile one that you don’t believe that you’re attractive at all, energetically or physically. Like people would always prefer someone else other than you. Quite literally how the song title is opposite, you believe people are only attracted to the types of people who are opposite of you. Which is so obviously not true because so many people are attracted to you. I don’t know if you think more people value stability over spontaneity. But your cards imply that you are a free spirit and people love that about you. Not only are you a free spirit but you also are hard working. You aren’t one of those people that says they're a free spirit as an excuse to do nothing. I’m feeling that you carry this abundant energy of like “I want it, I got it”. And people just want to stay in that energy. You also have a resilience that people see and it makes them admire you but also want to learn from you. Your energy is truly so beautiful. I see that you might have long hair with beautiful waves to it. Perhaps you’re tan or have a darker complexion. You’re the type of person who loves doing hikes and smelling the fresh air outside. I also see beaches and a boho style to you. Lots of whites and vibrant blues as well. Perhaps you’re Greek or some type of southern European. I see that you also have doe eyes and people find them to be mesmerizing. As well as your smile. I don't know why you don’t think you’re attractive because the vibes I'm getting are that you’re a stunner!! I hope one day you can learn to appreciate the qualities in yourself that others see!  Signs : Athens, Greece, kitties, pasta, the smell of pine orange and vanilla, woven hats, big sunglasses, kites, hang gliders?, laughs, melted ice cream, strawberry scents, lip gloss, glitter, flamingos, Sagittarius

Pile 2

"She's got a halo around her finger around you" (The world; 5 of swords (rx); the high priestess; knight of pentacles (rx); 9 of wands (rx); the hierophant) Pile two you are my pile that knows people are attracted to you and use it to your advantage. Which is so real of you but also so slay. And this is not to say that you use your beauty to gain things in a negative way. It’s more like you know the cards that you were dealt and you’d be damned if you didn't use them. I feel like this is my Scorpio pile. Something about you is mysterious and that entices people to want to get to know you better. I feel like you are like a real life siren. The way you speak or the tone of your voice ensares people and draws them right to you. You also have a fated energy or destiny really plays a role in your life. To the point where people want to be in your life because they think they might be able to get some of whatever you have. You might also be witchy and cast spells or work with guides to make things go your way in life. You co create with spirit for sure. I feel like you guys have a contrasting appearance, like pale skin dark hair, or darker skin and lighter hair. I feel like your eyes are piercing like they are hunting prey and people love feeling like they are hunted by you. I see you being very chiseled whether that’s in the body or the face. You have a striking appearance for sure. The kind that people do double takes on the street. You might get a lot of losers who want to talk to you because your energy and appearance are so intoxicating. I also feel like you’re overall just very bold. Perhaps Aries as well? I also feel like anything said in this reading you already know about yourself lol. Signs : Osprey; Seahawks (football); Megan Fox; vampires; red lisp; metal; silver; motorcycles; the twilight saga?; Jennifer’s Body; clubbing; latex; Washington State; black hair; blue eyes

Pile 3

"I know she's gonna break my heart"

(8 of cups; 7 of wands (rx); page of pentacles; the moon; the hanged man (rx); the lovers) You, my pile three, are the heartbreaker, soul stealer, sad girl pile. People are attracted to you because people want to fix you, not necessarily that you need to be fixed to be honest. It’s more in the sense that you don’t care about them more than you care about yourself. It’s like they want to teach how to love or be the one that changes you. Which to me is so funny because it’s not that you don’t know how to love it’s that you don’t love them lmfao. You don’t entertain many suitors or people in general and so when you do give people your energy it’s special. However with how selective you are it makes people want to know more about your inner world. But you come off so nonchalant that people want to get a reaction out of you. You have the potential to feed people’s hero/savior complex if you actually like them back. I also feel like your sense of style is alternative or goth and that’s also what brings people to you. I’m getting retired emo’s or lil peep/suicide boy fans. Perhaps your taste in music also attracts people. I feel like you’re social media and the way you present yourself really gets people wanting to know you more. You’re very mysterious but I'm getting in more of an Aquarius or Pisces way. I feel like you like having dramatic makeup on or you have a very out there style. I keep seeing, like cyber goth or emo. I’m not super well versed in those genres of style so I hope you get it lol. Maybe you have lip rings or eyebrow piercings. Anyways you’re very unique and that’s what attracts people to you. I also feel like you’re always doing cool and new stuff and people are attracted to you because you’re a trendsetter in a lot of ways. Maybe you have a following on a social media platform? Idk I feel like people watch you via the internet. Signs: anime; jjk; tik tok; silver metals; lip biting; rilakuma; pastel pinks; black; stripes; oversized sweaters; skirts and thigh highs; leg warmers; big chunky shoes; platform boots; johnny guilbert?; music holds importance here

#tarot reading #tarot #spiritual #pick a card reading #pick an image #pick a picture #pick a card #pick a pile #channeling #channeled message #divination #pac #pap #spirituality #channeled song #spotify #reading tarot #law of attraction #attractive #Spotify

[writtenfangirl]

Secrets and Good Luck Charms

Plus size!Reader, angsty turning fluffy

Listen, as a plus size woman myself, I know that the chances of an F1 driver being attracted to me is close to 0, especially when they're literally always surrounded by supermodels. But I can live in my delulu era, even for a little while.

I challenged myself to create a fic with top-tier begging and I genuinely hope I accomplished that cause this was so much fun to write.

Enjoy!

Part 2

“Charles, I think we should break up.”

The words left her in a sudden whoosh, ceasing her boyfriend mid-story. His apartment went quiet, and Y/N felt the little hairs on her arms rise but her goosebumps wasn’t from the cold. 

Charles’s luminous green eyes widened.“What?”

A part of her wished she could take the words back, snatch them from the air where they hung heavy like smoke. But she’d been building up her courage all week and she wasn’t about to back down now just because he flashed those beautiful green eyes that Charles knew she could never resist. She said the words slower, kinder. “I think we should break up.”

He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. “Why?”

“Because you’re ashamed of me, Cha.”

And there was the truth, the conviction that had Y/N’s resolve strengthening. Charles could deny it all he wants but Y/N knew the truth, deep down. He was ashamed of her. It was a truth that had been sitting in her chest for the better part of 9 months and it was a truth that had begun to eat at her as their relationship progressed. 

He said his next words slowly, like a child struggling to learn new words in a language he wasn’t familiar with. “What would make you say that?” 

She kept her own tone even, betraying none of the hurt that sat heavy in her chest. “Because, Cha. We’ve been together 9 months, close to a year, and yet you have never introduced me to your mother or your brothers. Not even to your friends. No posts on social media, no mention of my existence at all.”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted your privacy.”

“I do want my privacy.”

“Then I don’t understand why you want to end things!” His voice grew in octave and Y/N could see him fighting to keep his calm.

“Because, Cha,” she said, struggling to keep the exasperation from her voice, “you’re ashamed of me. I don’t care that you post me on social media or not. I don’t care if the world knows about us. If you want to keep our relationship out of the public eye, that’s fine. I know you’re doing it to protect my feelings and I appreciate it, I do. But, you refuse to let me meet your friends or your family for that matter. They’re the people that matter to me because they’re the people that matter to you. But I’ve never met them, even after you’ve met mine! And I’m—“ she took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting the hurt that threatened to have tears spilling from her eyes. “I’ve dated enough guys to know when they’re ashamed of me.”

“I am not—“

“Don’t deny it, Cha, please. It hurts even more if you do.”

His mouth snapped shut. There was confusion in his face, and maybe a bit of hurt, but Y/N saw the truth in them too. The shame that coated his eyes like paint.

“I know I’m not conventionally beautiful like your exes.” Y/N said, her words soft. “They’re thin and slender and they’re beautiful. They really are. Models and influencers that I could never compete with and I’m okay with that because you were okay with that. But I see now that you’re not. You don’t like that I’m big, that I have a stomach and huge thighs. You don’t like that I have stretch marks and rolls. And you know what, it’s fine. If you prefer thinner girls, it’s fine. I won’t hold it against you because I know some people just have preferences and it’s okay. But I refuse to ever change myself and hate myself just to fit into a person’s standards. I’ve spent so much of my life being ashamed of my body, I can’t do that anymore, Cha. I love you and you are literally the man of my dreams but I love myself too, and I love myself too much to let someone do this to me.”

“You can’t just leave me. I love you.” Charles rushed the words out as if somehow, his words would stop Y/N.

“I don’t doubt your love for me, Cha. Not one moment. I know you love me. But you don’t take me on dates in public places where people can see us. When we do go out in public, you keep a physical distance between us. You never even so much as look at me unless you have to. I’ve never met a single one of your friends, work related or not. I don’t think you’ve even mentioned to them that you were with someone. Never met Arthur or Lorenzo and I’ve definitely never met Pascale. You love me in secret and that’s not okay.”

He reached for her hand but Y/N pulled away. The hurt that flashed in his eyes made her want to tell him to forget about her confession, forget about what she said so they can return to normal but Y/N knew she couldn’t do that. She owed it to herself to do what was best for her, to love a man who loved her so much he had to shout it from the rooftops. 

“Y/N, please—“

“It’s okay, Charles.” She stood up from where she sat, pushing down her own feelings as Charles looked up at her, disbelief in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Really, no hard feelings. Let’s just forget that this, us, ever happened. I wish you good luck with everything, I really do. I’ll pray to every God that exists that you become a world champion with Ferrari. I’ll always root for you.” 

“Y/N, wait—“

But she fled the apartment before he could say anymore.

And Charles Leclerc is out of the 2023 Belgian Grand Prix! I have to say, Crofty. Leclerc’s string of bad luck and terrible performance has really been a blow to Ferrari’s morale as of late. It really is such a horrible way to end the first half of the season, especially after such an incredible six months! It truly is such a shame. With the way things are going, what was once a tight race for the championship between Verstappen and Leclerc could simply become Verstappen’s third world championship.  Let’s hope the summer break gives him the clarity of mind he needs to get his head back in the game and the championship race back on track. 

Charles wasn’t stupid. He knew why he was losing and it wasn’t his car or his team or their strategies.

His abysmal performance could only be blamed on one person and try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to blame Y/N. 

Because really, the only person to be blamed was himself. 

Because she was right. 

And he hated that she was right. 

He never thought he was the kind of person who was vain or who particularly cared about the opinions of others. He knew what it was like to be scrutinized by the media and while he justified keeping his relationship with her private by believing that Y/N was a private person, he couldn’t justify hiding her from his friends and family. 

It didn’t even really matter to him what she looked like. He loved Y/N, not for her body but for her soul. He was the moth attracted to her bright flame and he would have gladly let himself burn if it meant feeling the heat of her touch on his skin. She was kindness and warmth and compassion all rolled into one person, the kind of person people wished God made more of. 

And he found her beautiful. Yes, she wasn’t thin but he never cared about that before. Y/N was beautiful in his eyes. The kind of beauty meant to be admired in paintings. Her soft, curvaceous body and her sweet face made her beautiful. She may not have fit society’s standards but she fit his and that’s all that mattered. That’s all that should have mattered. 

So why did her words, her accusations, cut him so deep?

Was she right? Was he ashamed of her? 

“Mate, you okay?” 

Carlos’s voice broke him out of his reverie. It wasn’t like Charles to get distracted from the matter at hand, but his mind kept wandering to his girlfriend. Or rather, ex-girlfriend.

“You’ve been distracted.” Max noted. 

It was the summer break, a rare time in their hectic lives when they got a chance to take a breather. One of the drivers, Charles couldn’t remember who but he suspected it was George, had arranged a little get together for them. Alone time on a remote island in the tropics far from the prying eyes of their fans and the media. Not all of the drivers could make it, but those that could brought their girlfriends with them. The irony wasn’t lost on Charles that he was the only single man in an island full of couples. 

It was the kind of outing he would have wanted to include Y/N in but wouldn’t have, choosing instead to stay at home so they could spend some time alone. It never occurred to him if Y/N would have wanted to come. 

“I’m fine,” was his only brusque reply. 

“You don’t seem fine.” Pierre chimed in. 

Charles tried not to scowl. The other drivers were his friends as much as they were his co-workers and competitors. He grew up racing and competing with most of them. Max, George, Alex, Lando and especially Pierre, were constant figures in his life. If there was anyone who could help him, who could understand him, it would be them.

But it was so hard to accept the help when Charles was so… down. 

He looked at his friends, saw the expectant looks on their faces and sighed. 

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” The words left him before he had a chance to think about it. 

His friends’ expectant expressions turned into surprise before shifting to mild curiosity. 

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Pierre’s frown could only be described as hurt. Not that Charles could blame him. Pierre was his best friend and the first person who supported him when it came to his relationships. The fact that Charles kept his girlfriend a secret probably hurt him more than he let on.

“No one knew,” Charles said reassuringly. “Not my brothers and not maman.”

“So you were only together for a short while,” Carlos guessed. “What’s the big deal?”

Charles couldn’t blame Carlos for assuming that Y/N was only in his life for a while since he never told them she existed but the insinuation hurt all the same.

“We were together close to a year. 9 months actually.”

“That long?” Alex asked, surprised. “Usually you introduce your girlfriends after two months. You kept her a secret for nine months?”

Charles winced. What sort of excuse did he have for keeping her a secret? No flimsy excuse could ever justify what he did. 

“Why did she end things?” Max asked him. 

Dread pooled in Charles’ stomach. What does he even say? He looked at his friends, at their earnest and open expressions. He knew no matter what he says, they won’t judge him. Or at least, not to his face. 

“She ended things because she thinks I’m ashamed of her.“ Charles’ admission tasted like metal in his tongue. 

“Why would you be ashamed of her?” George asked, raising a quizzical brow.

“Because she’s nothing like my exes. She’s not thin or slender, she’s full bodied. I’ve never introduced her to any of you, not even to my family. She thinks I’m embarrassed to be seen next to her.”

“Are you?” Lando asked, judgement ripe on his face. 

“No!” Charles’ defense was quick. “I am not ashamed of her. I never have been! I’m… I’m more ashamed of myself. That I didn’t reassure her. I’m ashamed that I did something that made her feel bad. I hate that I did that to her.”

“Why didn’t you introduce her to us and your family anyway?” Carlos asked this time. 

“Because with her, I feel real. I feel different. A good different. And I know how cruel people can be. I know you might not have judged her and I know if my brothers and maman met her, they would love her. Maman, especially. But if I introduced her to you, then that’s one step closer to introducing her to the world. I was scared she couldn’t take the attention and run.”

“Is she why you’ve been so bad in track lately?” Max asked. 

Charles simply nodded before closing his eyes and rubbing his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Well there’s only one thing you can do,” George said in that tone he uses when he thinks he knows best. “You have to go after her. Go back to her and beg her to take you back.”

“And then what?” Charles snapped, unable to stop himself from voicing out the fear that’s been plaguing his mind, “She’ll still be watched by the media. Y/N is soft and she is kind. I don’t know what I would do if people say bad things about her and I know they will. I’ve dated literal supermodels and people were mean. What more someone like her? If someone insulted her in front of me, I might actually commit assault.”

“Mate, that’s up to her and you to talk about it,” Max said. “You can’t really take the choice away from her. If you love this girl, then be with her. Fuck what other people think.”

“Charles, all that matters to us is that you are happy. If she makes you happy, then we will be happy,” Pierre reassured. “You don’t have to worry about us. This girl doesn’t happen to be an ax-wielding psychopath, right?”

The rest of their group winced at Pierre’s poor attempt at a joke but Charles smiled nonetheless. Trust Pierre to always try his best to lighten the mood. “No, she’s kind of perfect actually. I really love her.”

“Then go to her so you can get your head back in the game and beat Max in the championship,” Carlos urged. 

“I don’t know about beating me,” Max smirked and the topic of their conversation shifted to playful jibes and jokes. But Charles’ mind stayed on Y/N, at his friends encouraging words and before his mind could reconcile what his body was doing, he was already on his feet, heading to one of the yachts moored on the island. 

“Where are you going?” Pierre called out as he ran from his friends, towards the woman he loved. 

Charles answered, his mind racing as fast as his heart. “To get my girl!”

When Y/N heard the frantic knocking on her apartment door at 1AM, she expected the worst. 

Which of her family had died? Which of her friends was laying in a ditch somewhere with their car wrapped around a tree? What was the tragedy so urgent, so horrific, that it couldn’t wait until the next day and had to knock on her door at 1AM in the morning?

But when she opened the door, all she saw was Charles, eyes wide and frantic. 

“Cha?” Y/N asked, not quote believing her bleary eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed her face, bringing his mouth on hers in a searing kiss that had Y/N’s eyes shuttering close and her breath leaving her lungs. 

She tasted the salt of his sweat, felt the searing heat of his hands on her skin as his tongue swept across her mouth, kissing her as if he was underwater and she was the siren able to grant him his oxygen. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her heart deciding what her mind already knew but refused to believe. 

She had missed him, wholeheartedly. And she knew that if Charles ever came knocking back, her self restraint would crumble like chalk on pavement. She would accept him, consequences be damned. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted when she pulled away, her mind racing. “I’m so sorry.”

“Charles, I don’t understand. What are you doing here? I thought you were—“

“It doesn’t matter where I was,” he insisted, his grip on her tightening, like he was afraid that letting go would cause her to disappear. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. Cherie, tu es belle. Je suis vraiment désolé. Je n'ai jamais eu l'intention de te blesser.”

“Charles, slow down,” Y/N urged, pulling him into her tiny apartment and closing the door behind her. Her french was rudimentary at best and with how fast he was talking, she was struggling to translate what he said. “You’re speaking in French. I don’t understand.”

“You are beautiful.” He blurted, stopping Y/N in her tracks. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you but I did anyway and I hate that I hurt you. I’m not ashamed of you but I am ashamed of how I acted. Forgive me, cherie, please. Please take me back.”

“Charles—“ Her phone trilled from where it was charging in her living room and Y/N pulled away from Charles it, ignoring her best friend's flashing face and clicking the red button to silence it.

“You deserve better than me, I know,” he continued, “and I know I don’t deserve you. But I will do everything I can to at least be deserving of your forgiveness. Please, Y/N. Say you forgive me.”.

“Charles—“ her phone rang again and with a growl of frustration, Y/N grabbed it, answering it upon seeing her best friend’s face flashing. “Y/BFF/N, I can’t talk right now. I'm in the middle of—“

“Did you see?” Y/BFF/N said frantically on the other end, causing Y/N to frown. “Tell me you saw it!”

She sent Charles an apologetic look as she answered. “Saw what?”

“Check Charles’ instagram! And I mean, right the fuck now! Call me back when you do.” And she hung up. 

Y/N glanced at Charles before following her best friend’s instructions, opening up the app and searching for Charles’ account. When she saw her picture on the first square, Y/N’s eyes snapped to Charles. 

“You told your friends about us,” Y/N said, stunned.

“I told the world about us,” he clarified. “I never told anyone because I was selfish. I am not ashamed of you. I never have been, never will be. I was scared because introducing you to my family and my friends means that you’re one step closer to being known to the world and I was scared you would run from all of it. From the fame, from the mean comments. It’s happened before and I didn’t want it to happen again, especially not to you. I’m not naive. If people can be mean and ruthless to girls who look like Charlotte and Alexandra, what more you? I thought I was protecting you. I don’t ever want you to leave. Please, come back to me.“

“I can’t believe you told everyone about us.” Y/N still sounded dumbfounded, even to her own ears. 

Charles gave her watery smile. “People should know about you and the love I have for you.”

Y/N wasn't entirely sure what it is about Charles that could have her melting into a puddle on the floor. She's been with good looking men before and none of them ever had that effect on her. But his confession, his conviction, had her abandoning her phone's incessant notifications, her arms automatically wrapping around Charles' neck, pulling him to her. His hands rested on her waist, ghosting down her back.

And, despite herself, Y/N felt her lips pulling into a soft smile. “You know, when I went to bed a while ago, I wasn’t expecting to see my ex knocking at my door, begging me to take him back at one in the morning. Especially since I know he’s suppose to be somewhere in the tropics on vacation.“ 

“Begging?” Charles raised a brow, almost in challenge, a small smile playing at his lips. Mirth and hope mixed in his green eyes and Y/N knew that there was never any chance she couldn’t accept his apology. 

She nodded, her smile turned teasing. “Oh, yeah, definitely begging. Groveling at my feet, asking for forgiveness. Never seen anything like it, to be honest. You know, some girls have a thing for that and I never really understood it before but now, I kinda do. I might not forgive him just so I can listen to him beg again.” 

“You are a cruel woman,” Charles said as he pulled her closer to him, his hands warm on her waist, his nose barely touching her own as his breath tickled her mouth.

“Is that what you’d call the woman willing to forgive you?” She batted her eyes, feigning innocence. “Even after she knows you’re only begging for forgiveness because of your losing streak? You did always call me your good luck charm.”

“You are my good luck charm.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in those things?”

“When it comes to you, I’ll believe in anything and anyone,” he said seriously before he grinned, wide and infectious. The kind of grin that promised an evening of debauchery and laughter. “So you forgive me?”

“Well, you did tell the world that I was your girlfriend so now I have to forgive you and take you back. I wouldn’t want to make a liar out of Charles Leclerc.”

He smiled triumphantly and this time, when Charles dipped his head for another searing kiss, Y/N didn’t pull away.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc instagram au #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #f1 instagram #formula one x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x you #formula 1 instagram edit #formula one x y/n #formula one fanfiction #f1 x you #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

[shirefantasies]

Congrats on 300 followers! You’re definitely one of the best blogs and best writers on this site so well deserved! I wanted to ask if I could get a matchup, I have no preference for lotr or The Hobbit and I don’t have a gender preference either. I have short blonde hair, green eyes and I’m leaning on the chubby or curvy side. I love to create anything and everything, drawing, jewelry making, even tried knitting. I love puzzles, riddles and trivia games too. Besides all that I love to have a special cup of tea at the end of everyday.

I hope you recover well from your surgery and have a wonderful day! 🍄

OMG thank you so much for your amazingly kind comments 🥰 I love being here but words like these are definitely a big part of why I stay. Writing is truly a passion of mine so I’m so happy to hear that!

Also sweetheart I had to match you up with…

Bilbo!

This hobbit never expected to find love outside of the Shire…or at all! But fate has its own plans for us all, hence the hobbit choosing to take the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe after all more than one 😏 Gandalf hadn’t just enlisted one player in the big burglary after all. You were well-studied, clever, crafty, many things needed on a journey like Thorin Oakenshield was embarking on. Bilbo wasn’t looking for love, but when you pulled out your knitting needles what else would you expect?

You’re like a figure from a great Shire tale he’d read with that golden hair and those bright green eyes. Hobbits love curves, too, so you know he is blushing around you! His first questions are anything but forward, though, just wondering where you came from and how you know the grey wizard. Cue stories of the man’s fireworks bursting over the lake! You’ve never visited the Shire, but with every word Bilbo speaks your beautiful eyes widen in wonder and you gush that you’d love to see it and before he can help himself he’s blurting out that he could always show you around there after this whole mess is through. He even finds himself getting quite protective of you, snapping at the dwarves if they say anything that remotely upsets you and finding the courage to draw Sting the first time he sees an orc look your way.

Because you both enjoy riddles and puzzles, whenever you have free time or need to decompress on the road the pair of you find yourselves solving any you have and swapping them back and forth. When Bilbo plucks up the courage, he tells you how much of a comfort you are on this journey; he's spent all this time missing home and yet now he feels like he's found a new one. Somehow even being out in the woods is not so terrible! Your jewelry making is fascinating to the hobbit, so expect lots of questions about the process ranging from is it dangerous to what your favorite gemstone is. Perhaps he is secretly fantasizing about purchasing you a piece for you to keep...

The fact that you both love tea! Bilbo one hundred percent commits your special tea to memory, it does not matter how specific the blend is or if you put an odd amount of anything in it. Both of you could make each other’s perfect cup of tea in the dark. If your tastes are quite different, expect some tittering and head-shaking and general teasing, but you will get what you request every single time.

The look of deep concern in your eyes when the hobbit returns, the way you take him by the shoulders and tell him you thought he was lost, well…let’s just say the emotions get the best of you. Before the orcs catch up the dwarves whoop at the kiss you two yank each other into! When he does use the ring, you can sense the panic striking him when he returns and you go right to him, which he appreciates more than anything. One time you even noticed he looked a bit cold, like all the color was drained from him, so you wrapped him up and let him share in the warmth of one of your handmade scarves…and yourself, of course! He often uses the ‘you look cold’ excuse on you so that he can take your hands!

When the journey is up, all you want to do is go to the Shire, the desire burning in your heart stronger than anything, and who is Bilbo to deny what he also wishes? Years can go by and you never fail to make Bilbo’s heart flutter. The way you pull him into your kisses by his suspenders, the illustrations you add to his maps and letters you surprise him with, inspiring him to do the same. Having a wonderful and creative partner means he can have a cozy life at home in Bag End, yet it is still an adventure every day!

Taglist: @mossthebogwitch @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @pirate-lord-of-narnia @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit matchups #bilbo #bilbo x reader #ask #anon #requested #💕 300 follower matchup event 💕 #matchup monday

[strawberry-cowmilk]

top 10 most romantic quotes in obey me

a/n: I have no idea what proper fic to write next but I still want to stay somewhat active here.

Everything I am about to say here is a joke, please don't feel offended if I say something that doesn't sit right with you. Also I hope nobody has done this (nature documentary style) before.

Obviously, the images aren't mine. I just filtered and cropped them.

content warnings: spoilers for lesson 16 and 12, (slightly) suggestive content, violent text, this is a shitpost!!

-----

10.

Here we got Lord Diavolo, the closest being to an actual prince charming in the game, expressing his admiration for a pink sheep in a quite unique way. The Diavolo is attempting to flatter the Mc by reminding them of the role they have in the household: the family therapist. Scientists think wild Diavolos do this to show potential mates that they aren't like the others, they are better.

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9.

Nothing is more attractive than a man who knows how to make and save money, right? What this Mammon is doing is a great example of such a gentleman. He doesn't think in black and white, he thinks outside of the box. While the average person might admire the flowers, Mammon sees it as a chance to create a fortune. It is also very nice of the Mammon to share his wisdom with a young lad. I imagine Mc must have been gasping for air at this moment.

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8.

We all know the regular flirting techniques, right? 'I like your outfit', 'I think you're pretty'. But Solomon takes it a step further. This unit of a male asks his love interest to stick their finger into a potion. Researchers say said potion is likely a love potion. I bet you have never seen such a bold move being pulled off so smoothly. Solomons are known for their unique ways, but this is a whole new level of flirting.

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7.

Don't you just love it when your partner behaves like a 30-year-old Discord mod? You bet I do! With this Leviathan's unique approach to attract the Mc, he shows he is not afraid to be who he truly is: a Reddit user. Mcs will usually appreciate such honesty, therefore Leviathan has scored. For your next date, I recommend you act like Leviathans and be honest about your holiday and evening plans.

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6.

Solomon is back, people. This time, with an even more romantic gesture. Despite what many may think, Solomon's food has scientifically been proven to be the most nutritious of all foods. One example of a fellow who thinks Solomon's cooking is a crime against life can also be seen in the image, just look at the british looking lad next to our prince Romeo. This kind gesture shows the Solomon truly cares about his object of lust's well-being. How kind.

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5.

The look in his eyes say it all: this Belphegor loves feet. This species of male is already popular with all the Mcs, not only because they look like they come out of the womb listening to My Chemical Romance, no. But also because they have this alluring eye visible under their hair. As stated earlier, a wild Belphegor loves his feet. By sharing this desire with the Mc he's trying to attract, he is in a way allowing to let the Mc peek inside his heart, open and vulnerable, to show how much he trusts them. How beautiful.

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4.

Here we got the self-proclaimed prince Romeo himself: an Asmodeus. This type of male is very self-centered and independent, as is common knowledge. Many Mcs who have been with an Asmodeus report he might not always be very monogamous. While this might be true, Asmodeus won't ditch you for a new Mc or sometimes even a Solomon if you give him the right amount of independence. This line shows how much this one values his Mc, and is willing to give them independence too. The line may come off as agressive, but note the pinkish hue behind him. Asmos will emit this hue when truly in love.

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3.

Remember the british looking lad from before? That is called a Satan. Satans show love by threatening violence and wearing jackets the wrong way. When such a male is very in love, he will projectile fart purple gas. As we can see, the Satan in the image fits all these criteria. This shows how happy the relationship between him and his Mc is, a one of a kind love. Very beautiful, I could cry.

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2.

Ah, my personal favorite kind of man. A Lucifer. While this might look violent to the average outsider, it is actually a symbol of great love and compassion. You see, Mcs don't pick a Lucifer. A Lucifer will pick a Mc. This is because Lucifers know they attract Mcs with 'father problems,' and he will want to assert dominance over his Mc by acting like a violent figure many Mcs, according to statistics, call 'daddy.' This is pleasant for both parties. So yes, this does look violent, but the pair is just showing affection. Poor Leviathan who had to see this, though.

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1.

We all knew this was coming. The line that starts every fairy tale, the line so carefully worded it would make anyone melt on the spot, spoken by a Belphegor. I feel like I don't even have to explain why this is romantic. The dominance this Belphegor asserts while still showing kindness and concern for the Mc's health. Truly beautiful. Most scientists gave up on explaining this too. They would leave work early and go look for a Belphegor of their own in the woods. The power this species beholds is beyond understanding.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #omswd #obey me screencap #obey me screenshot #obey me crack #obey me diavolo #diavolo #obey me mammon #obey me luke #mammon #luke #obey me solomon #solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #beel obey me #obey me belphie #obey me asmo #leviathan #lucifer #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #obey me shitpost

[gehtsis]

Overworked

a dadnoir fic that I wrote based off of this wonderful drawing by @fujii-draws (which you should follow right NOW.) for her dusknoir and aimilios characters because I'm finally listening to all those "do it scared" affirmation posts here. Just like last time, my writing is a bit iffy and bad and the start is a bit slow so watch out for that. Enjoy.

The sun's bright rays stretched across Sharpedo Bluff as it set down, creating a beautiful blend of orange and yellow as the waves below crashed down quietly. Dusknoir could watch this view for hours, even for days. But he had other matters to attend to. Just as he was about to head inside, he saw Aimilios approaching , carrying a handful of guild paperwork. The lad has taken it upon himself to take care of Wigglytuff's Guild's future now that there is no impending demise threatening the lives of everyone or the world itself.

And whereas Dusknoir knows that Aimilios is good and happy with what he's doing, he recently noticed how the poor Lucario has been overworking himself to the bone as of recently. Cutting down on meals to finish more work, missing hours of sleep for more work, it bothered Dusknoir. He was gonna have to do this conversation about "putting your own will being before your work", but the time just.. didn't feel right, per-say. Regardless, he greeted Aimilios like usual.

"Good afternoon, Aimilios. Tell me, do you when Ribbons is coming back? I was planning on making dinner tonight. Celebi brought me a cooking book from a nearby town, and I figured I could try making something." Dusknoir spoke in his usual tone, keeping direct eye contact with the boy.

"Oh, uh, Ribbons will come back a bit late today. She said that she wanted to do a few extra missions today, and she insisted that I'll just go back home for the day." Aimilios quickly said as he properly straightened the paperwork in his hands, making sure to not accidentally impale it with his chest spike.

"Oh, and just call me when dinner is ready. I need to finish some of these papers, and I assume I'll be done before midnight.. I hope." Aimilios spoke as he headed inside in a pinch, leaving Dusknoir to his own. The Gripper Pokemon let off a heavy sigh, knowing he'll have to talk with the boy before he skips dinner again.

An hour passes by, and Aimilios was nowhere near finishing the dreaded papers. In fact, he was getting more frustrated by them by the minute to the point where he could rip his hair out, and Dusknoir could feel it. He hated it. To put such busywork above your own needs and wellbeing is enough, but this was just about enough. After finishing the dinner preparations, Dusknoir slowly approached Aimilios, who was way too occupied in work to see the ghost in front of him.

"Aimilios, can you step with me outside for a moment?"

"I-in a minute. I just need to-"

"Aimilios."

".. Okay then.."

The two stepped outside, gazing at the setting sun as the light breeze blew, giving the two a feeling of calmness. Aimilios was getting more relaxed, which worked well for the conversation Dusknoir was about to have with him.

"The sun rises.. and then it sets. Each day brings in it's own little things that we often take for granted before it's too late. It's incredible, isn't it?"

"Yeah.. I think so too. I've been working pretty hard lately and I always seem to forget about all of.. this."

"Actually, Aimilios.. that is what I've been meaning to speak with you about."

"Hm? How come?"

Dusknoir took a deep breath in, and out. He was unsure of how Aimilios would react to his words, but it's worth a try.

"I've seen the way you've been overworking yourself lately. You've been cutting down on meals, water and even your own rest just to try and finish it all on time. And while I truly appreciate - along with many others - the work you're putting up for Wigglytuff's Guild.. I can't help but feel worried for you. It just worries me to no end. Do you understand my point of view here?"

Aimilios was silent, only to lower his head in what felt like shame. Dusknoir didn't want him to feel ashamed for the work he's done, so he quickly recollects himself before more damage is done.

".. Look. I am not you to not do the busywork at all, far from it. All I want you to do is that you take care of yourself first and foremost, and do what you must afterwards. That is all I am asking of you. Do you understand now?"

Aimilios raised his head again, looking a bit less ashamed, but a bit sad at the same time.

".. You're probably right. I haven't really noticed it myself, which is just- I just had no idea.."

Dusknoir held the boy close for a hug, trying his hardest to ensure that it's not his fault. Never was.

"It's okay, it's okay. I understand. Just go back inside and rest, you don't need to worry about it anymore."

Aimilios nodded and went back inside as the night finally set it. Dusknoir felt like a rock has finally been lifted off of his chest, now that he knows that the boy won't completely abandon his own needs again. Now he can only hope that his message got through.

[apollodarling-writes]

Imagining Levi being the little fucking creep he is walking through the halls when he hears us. We’re sitting with our friends talking.

Friend: “So y/n what’s your type? Physically I mean.”

Us: “Well you know… pale skin, deep blue eyes that are like daggers, dark hair, nice lips, some freckles maybe or beauty marks, good hands-“

Us basically describing Levi so our friend picks up on that is like.

Friend: “So captain Levi?”

And me absolutely SIDE EYE HER ASS

Us: “Why would you even say that….No”

Friend: “You just described captain Levi…”

And we’re just bamboozled because we really did but we don’t like him so levi is obviously in the back like holy shit I’m their type. Then we say some shot like:

Us: “The Captain is 5’3 I’m gonna need 6’3.”

tws: just levi being a creep bc he's yandere, obsessive tendencies, stalking, slight angst???

Levi truly prided himself on his stealth skill. You'd yet to become aware of his near-constant gaze, his calculating storm-grey eyes locked on you- appreciating you while he ensured you were safe and that no one was threatening the relationship he was working so hard to build. You'd also yet to notice your smaller possessions slowly dwindling- he had to keep that shrine of yours updated somehow!

And that's why he was listening in on your current conversation.

"-hat's your type, [Name]?"

You hum in response, glancing at your friend for but a moment before returning your gaze to the sky. "Well, that's pretty easy."

"I like a man with pretty, pale skin and cold eyes- like the ones you feel touch the depths of your soul!" You wiggle your fingers at them, creating the tell-tale spooky gesture before chuckling at yourself. "Bonus points if he has some delicious-lookin' lips and freckles- or maybe beauty marks! Those are so cute!"

You pause for a moment as a breeze passes by, enjoying the crisp air and the scent of autumn leaves. Levi watches as you, hope kindling inside of him.

"Oh! I also really like when they're mean to other people but really sweet to me. Oh, oh! And nice hands." You smile cheekily, tilting your head the way Levi loves. God you were made for him.

"Strong too- I want him to protect me. He's husband material if he-"

"So... Captain Levi."

Levi doesn't like the way your smile drops. You don't like him? Even after he's putting so much effort to protect you and the future you two will share? What more does he need to do? Should he start leaving more love letters? Kill more people for you? What more do you want? He'll do it!

"Absolutely not." You grimace, shuddering at the thought.

"But... you just described Captain Levi. Besides, if you don't go for your man now, Petra will steal him from you!" Your friend nudges your side, smirking.

Levi likes this friend! He'll ignore the fact that they suggested that god awful woman, if you could call her that with the way she all but throws herself at him, would steal him from you. He'll ignore it for now at least.

Wasn't it apparent that the two of you were meant to be? That you were all he's ever wanted and will need, just as he'll be all you'll ever want and nee-

"Good. Let her take him." You glare at the grass in front of you. "I don't want him."

Levi feels his heart shatter. Your friend pouts, saying something about how cute the two of you would look together.

You click your tongue, "I'll need a man that's tall. Like six foot at least."

Why would you need him to be taller? He can love you just fine as is!

"That damn creep is getting on my nerves anyway. He won't take the damn hint..."

#yandere boy #male yandere #tw yandere #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi #aot levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi attack on titan #levi

[starlight-starfury]

Field of Stars

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Characters: (F!Elf!MC) Raine Nightbloom x Tyril Starfury

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Length: 1.8k words

Summary: Raine celebrates her first festival in Undermount with Tyril.

Tags: @choicesficwriterscreations @lilyoffandoms and @watatsumi-island because you were looking forward to this one hehe <3

A/N: This was so fun to write! I don’t really know how to write relationships so I hope it turned out okay, because I worked really hard on it 😅 The ceremony and traditions were based around the Spring Equinox, but ultimately I just wanted an excuse to write a flower festival haha 🌷

“So are you going to tell me what the special occasion is, or will I have to guess?”

Raine gazed around her surroundings from where she followed Tyril down the sunlit paths of the ancient elven city. It was a busier morning than usual, and it seemed as though everyone was making their way towards the gilded gates bordering Undermount’s entrance. She smoothed down her dress as they passed a glistening waterfall, crossing a stone bridge thinly veiled by moss.

“You’ve been asking questions since we left the manor.” He chuckled from beside her, raven hair falling over his shoulders. He was dressed differently today, wearing a silver tunic embellished with pale blue thread patterned in the form of shimmering flowers and blossoms.

Her own dress was lavender in colour, with silver floral designs woven throughout as well and shining like moonlight against the silken fabric. She couldn’t help but briefly wonder if the outfits were related to whatever was going on outside the city, her curiosity taking hold.

She gave a dramatic sigh. “The sense of mystery is intriguing but why is everyone leaving Undermount? I was under the impression other elves didn’t get out much.”

Tyril nodded slowly. “They are heading to the fields just outside the city, to celebrate the coming of Spring. It is a festival to herald the earth’s renewal and growth, a sacrament to the defeat of darkness.”

“So it’s a ceremony?” She asked.

“Yes,” he said, “it is one of our oldest and most sacred traditions, an honouring of the Light and all it has created. It is also possibly the one day of the year that petty house feuds and council matters are set aside momentarily, and the closest our people are to being unified by joy.”

Raine hummed in thought and he continued. “There is dancing and merriment, and when nightfall comes we all gather by the meadows for the star blooming ceremony.”

“And what’s that?”

His lips quirked upward. “You’ll see.”

“More secrets,” she laughed. “Tell me more about this festival, then?”

His gaze softened, enjoying seeing her embrace the culture she had missed out on for so long. “We rejoice with drinking and feasting, and spend the day among the flowers to remember what it means to bloom and to grow.”

“That sounds beautiful,” she said.

“It is a festivity of light and life, of sowing the seeds for changes still to come.” He smiled at her softly. “Of hope reborn.”

She grinned, and leaned upward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Well in that case, I believe there’s a festival waiting for us to enjoy.” She raised her arm at the elbow, and he wrapped his own around hers. “If you’re ready?” He asked.

“Always.”

Hand in hand, they emerged on the other side of the great city gates, greeted by the sweet scent of flowers and honey. Ivory clouds dusted the sky above them and colourful blossoms sprinkled the grass below. Far across the fields, young elven children danced and giggled as they rolled down the lush hills.

Raine gasped as she took it all in, a warm breeze tumbling her hair as the two of them stood beneath the golden sunlight. “It’s wonderful,” she murmured in appreciation.

Tyril laughed softly. He had celebrated this festival many times before, but doing so with her and watching it all through her eyes was making him appreciate how truly special it was.

“Come,” his thumb brushed gently across her knuckles and he led her down the hills to the fields below. The trees surrounding the meadow held crystalline lanterns hung from their high branches, with blossoming vines woven delicately around their trunks. Lavishly woven quilts were sprawled beneath their shade, with ornate pillows and picnic spreads set out with fresh food.

They sat beneath a flowering tree, the white petals scattered on the ground like fallen snow. Raine knelt atop a plush blanket with a design comprised of colourful tulips embroidered into the soft fabric.

Tyril lifted a silver pitcher engraved with intricate, swirled markings to pour a light pink wine infused with rose petals into two fragile glasses. Fresh berries and sweet pastries drizzled with lavender honey and coated with sugared flowers were laid out before them.

Raine popped one of the desserts into her mouth and sighed, before leaning back so her head rested in his lap. He chuckled lightly and they took turns feeding each other the berries, basking in the warm sunshine. The berry juice tainted their lips a rosy pink.

“I still find myself wondering how I got to be so lucky, to have you in my life,” he smiled, running his fingers through her hair.

She tilted her head, a grin brightening her face. “I often ask myself the same.”

“You—” he was so surprised by her statement he almost dropped the bowl of berries. “How do you mean?”

She laughed in response and it echoed in his head like a song on the sweetened air.

“You were the heir to House Starfury when we first met, and I was just a nobody from Riverbend.” Her gaze flickered briefly towards the other elves dancing in the open field, dressed in vibrant colours and fine silk. “No name or titles of my own.”

A crease formed between his brows as he frowned slightly, leaning closer. “That’s not true, you were a fierce warrior in the making.” His expression was serious as he dipped his head lower. “And you never needed a title to impress me. You’ve taught me many things, Raine, one of which that our actions speak true to our intentions, not our status. It is our deeds that will carry on our legacy, not where we came from. Our backgrounds are but a thread in the woven tapestry of our lives, they may have shaped us but they do not define us.”

He smiled down at her. “We decide our destiny, we have the power to forge our own path. You taught me that.”

Her eyes brightened and she cupped his face in her hands, guiding him down towards her. He could taste the sweet juice of the berries on her lips and sighed softly into her mouth before leaning back, brushing the hair from her face.

She smiled sweetly. “I’d like to braid your hair.”

“Of course.” He helped her back up and she gathered some flowers from the nearby grass, slowly threading the sky blue petals among his silky, black hair until it formed a long braid that draped down his back.

When she was finished, he pressed a light kiss to her temple. “I believe now it’s your turn.”

Raine laughed, turning around so her back faced him. One sword-roughened fingers turned tender as they carefully wove lilacs into her hair, a thin braid along each side of her head and then wrapped around the back to meet in the middle.

While he was doing so, she busied herself making a flower crown, humming in content as she threaded the fragile stems together. When he was done, she placed the crown on her head and smiled, the bright colours vivid against pale blonde curls. “How do I look?”

He smiled, placing a light kiss on the back of her hand. “Radiant as always, my love.”

A few elves gathered on a carved wooden podium under a tall wisteria tree and begun to play a soft tune on silver flutes.

“What’s happening over there?” She asked, pointing towards a spot not far from the musicians where a tall pole had been set up and adorned with flower garlands and colourful ribbons. A group had gathered around and begun dancing in time to the music, leaping and weaving around each other.

“It is one of the festival rites,” he explained. “To ensure the fertility of the land for the season to come.”

He saw the awe in which she watched the dancing and smiled. She turned back towards him, her violet eyes glinting amethyst in the sunlight. “I want you to dance with me.”

She gave him a berry juice-stained smile he could not resist, and so he laughed then sighed and finally conceded, allowing himself to be dragged across the meadow.

They found a spot among the grass and her eyes widened for a moment. “Wait.” She turned around, scanning the nearby patch of flowers until she found one she liked. She carefully plucked it from the grass and tucked it gently behind his pointed ear. “There,” she announced, “now you’re ready.”

Where he had once tried to conceal his joy, he now laughed freely and with a lilting lightness that had butterflies dancing in her stomach. She laughed as he twirled her around before pulling her back in close.

And so they spent the day dancing barefoot upon the warm soil, swaying together like two flowers grown of the same garden, their laughter lingering on the breeze like an ancient melody.

Hours passed and the sun seemed to melt over the rolling hills like warm honey, casting them in a brilliant orange hue before night began to fall across the mountains.

The lanterns in the trees were now emitting a soft, amber glow as the elves gathered around the furthest meadow, waiting in anticipation for the star blooming ceremony to begin.

“Can you tell me now?” Raine grinned, fingers entwined with his pale blue.

Tyril laughed softly. “I suppose.” He nodded across the field to where hundreds of flowers stood with their petals firmly closed. “Those are the starblooms, they only open their petals once a year, and the naturalist mages assist with the growth process so that they can all blossom at the same time.”

A hush fell upon the crowd as a small group of elves stepped forward across the grass beneath the black velvet of the night sky, lifting their hands in unison to summon a mesmerising golden web of light.

She could feel his warm breath against her ear as he leaned forward, his arms wrapped around her waist. “Watch.”

Raine lifted her gaze upward, gasping as the flowers began to pulse with magic. Vibrant shades of red, purple, green and blue, their petals unfolding and lighting up in the dark, a field of colourful stars.

“Wow,” she breathed in amazement, the glow of the colours reflected in her eyes. “It’s so beautiful.”

One hand reached forward to entwine with hers, while the other caressed her cheek. “That it is,” he smiled, before his expression turned slightly pensive. “I wish...I wish I could see the world as you do. You always manage to find hope in the darkness, beauty in both the dangerous and unfamiliar.”

He was staring down at her, with moonlit skin, his eyes like pools of liquid starlight. “I think the world would be a better place if more people saw it the way you do.”

She smiled, tilting her head. “I think the world is beautiful because you’re in it.”

His breath caught in his throat a little before he sealed his mouth to hers and she sighed, draping her arms over his shoulders, drinking in the stardust from his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered as he leant back and her heart fluttered, “more than there are stars in the night sky.”

#cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #blades of light and shadow #tyril starfury #tyril x mc #raine nightbloom #choices fanfic

[aliceinchainscr]

Sean Kinnney’s sister posted this on Facebook about Layne Staley.

A message from a long time friend of Layne's. It does not matter that the friend did not sign their name at the end of this message...it only makes it more clear that this person was a TRUE friend to Layne.

Some people have to step on others to feel good about

themselves. Others

think money is the answer to all things. Layne would be laughing

that anyone

is even talking about him and glad that those full of anger have

a place to

spew it out. Maybe if they shit it all out of their system they

will have

only good left in them, one can only hope.

Labeling Layne a junkie is as ridiculous as calling someone Big

Nose Joe or

Straight Haired Mary, and those of you who have to do it look in

the mirror

and tell me you don't see faults. Layne wasn't a Rockstar, he

was a human

being with the same human feelings we all have about ourselves.

He also had

the same insecurities. People who don't know you saying they

love you

doesn't change how you perceive yourself, because the bottom

line is you

know the truth. Those talking about him don't even know him.

Layne had a disease he tried desperately to rid himself of and

wished he

didn't have. Would you be so cruel to someone who had cancer?

You don't just

walk away from an addiction. If it's so easy, I challenge anyone

to give up

something as simple as sugar/high fructose corn syrup. I bet

they couldn't

even for one week; it's in everything: bread, mayonnaise, fruit

juice etc.

Until you've walked in those shoes........

As far as having the resources to get off it, there are far more

sick fucks

out there that wanted to get close to him by mailing him drugs,

and putting

them in his pocket when he'd go out, or stalking him than

friends and

family. Let me tell you he had a ton of those. To protect him

from those

people meant a lifestyle where your full time job was to

baby-sit the

situation. Who can pay their bills and live a normal life

protecting someone

else 24/7?

Layne was a beautiful sensitive man that would do anything for

anyone. He

loved everyone and truly appreciated that people dug him, dug

the band and

dug the music. The world is an uglier place without his

kindness,his warmth,

his great sense of humor, and his fun. Layne never accepted the

title of

Rockstar. He was just easygoing, approachable Layne. He thought

it was weird

people would want his autograph and people were down right rude

trying to

get it. While he was out to dinner or even going to the

bathroom. Being

successful doesn't allow people to have the right to do that.

What happened

to common courtesy? Yet he would oblige, smile and be friendly.

Layne didn't think of himself as a great artist. He was just a

man that

loved art, and I can say one of the most artistic people ever.

He could do

anything that involved creating art and do it extraordinarily

well.

I remember him talking to Kurt once about "how do you react to

the person

acting like your best friend that used to make your life pure

hell when you

were in school, then were too nice to tell them to fuck off?"

Instead they'd

be nice and let it eat them up inside.

Layne lost the love of his life 6 years ago; people would

actually show up

at the hospital with heroin for her in hopes of seeing him. Fans

even showed

up to her funeral! She too couldn't get away from the harassing

dealers and

on many occasions would have to hide in their house because

dealers or fans

with drugs would sit out front and stalk the place relentlessly.

Not for 20

minutes, not for an hour, we're talking: camping out, sleeping

in their

cars, sitting on the porch, and banging on the windows. Tell me

how you quit

an addiction when it's put in your face everywhere you turn?

Think of all

the freedoms you have, like going to the grocery store, going to

get gas,

going anywhere, which he didn't have.

You know how many people pretended to want to help him and ended

up stealing

from him? Not just things like money, his credit cards, music

equipment,

etc. but personal stuff he couldn't replace? Like pictures of

him and Demri,

or him and his friends, or him and his family. Those were

commodities to

people, to him they were valued treasures. Layne was never a

person to those

people, he was just a badge where people with low self-esteem

could brag

they knew him. In his altered sense and with his kind heart he

would never

get it until it was too late. When he did, he never did anything

harsh, like

press-charges. Those people robbed him of his girlfriend, robbed

him of his

family, and robbed him of his friends. Who out there would like

to go

through life wondering if everyone in your life has ulterior

motives and

never really knowing? The disappointment of how you'd feel when

you

discovered, one after another after another, had listened to

your innermost

personal thoughts, pretended to be a friend and wasn't.

He couldn't go back to music because heroin ravished his body

and it made

him feel more insecure and more like a target. Because of those

that feel

the need to put someone else down to feel good about themselves.

He spent

the last 5 years existing, not living. The Layne that died

wasn't the beam

of light he was to everyone that knew him. Although it was in

there

somewhere. Or the jokester that thought that farts were funny

and that would

laugh when Demri would geek out on a song or a commercial. He

didn't have a

home that was an open door to everyone like he did when he lived

on

Eastlake. The pad you could crash at after getting a little to

drunk at the

Off-Ramp or partying at the Son of Man house or El Steiner's.

Those were the

days he loved; a surprise birthday party at Naf's that Demri put

together

and his friends from War Babies, My Sister's Machine, Sweet

Water, Love on

Ice, etc. Playing, dressing up as a peasant girl for Halloween,

anything

chocolate, hanging out in the summer. It takes more than wanting

that back

for it to happen.

So they can say what they want, because the bottom line is it

doesn't matter

to those of us who knew and loved Layne and it certainly

wouldn't to Layne.

I doubt they matter to anyone in their lives and that's what's

really sad.

That they have to, like the drug addict harassers, latch on to

him in anyway

they can to feel like they got a piece of him and like they've

touched

greatness. What's even sadder is it's their loss because they

don't have a

person in their lives that would go to any lengths to put a

smile on their

face, do something for them, say nice things about them,

compliment them, or

make them feel good about themselves. Someone who would tell you

how much

value you had to him and to his life. All of us who knew him and

Demri could

go the rest of our lives as hermits with all the positivity they

passed on

to us because no one would be so lucky to get that in one

lifetime, let

alone from just 2 people.

I am glad he's not suffering anymore and I have no doubt Demri's

more than

happy to have him back. I am sure she's the Hostess with the

Mostest and has

made a home for everyone. With Andy, Shannon and Kurt who shared

her

birthday. With the recent death of one of her brothers, who died

in a car

crash last month. I'm positive, being the social butterfly she

is, everyone

in music is at their pad and they're just waiting for the rest

of us they

loved, and who loved them back, to arrive. Poor Layne has gone

back to being

the guy that everyone says, "Oh you're the guy that's Demri's

boyfriend";

with her being the celebrity in the family like it was when they

were first

dating.

Though I knew it would end this way, I refuse to forget the way

he was.

His name was Layne Elmer.

He liked wood shop and music.

He was a drummer first, then a singer.

He smoked some pot and popped cross tops.

He sang Metallica and Mercyful Fate covers in spandex and big

hair.

Even though he changed his last name, I always called him Elmer.

Even though he made it big, he always made time to visit with me

at shows.

Even though we didn't keep close contact, we always asked about

each others

families.

Even though he was famous, he acted like he wasn't.

Even though Layne Staley is a "God" or "Legend" to his fans, He

will always

be Layne Elmer to me.

#layne staley #alice in chains #drug abuse #tw

[honeyhellsbells]

(this for the obey me! match up)

Hi my name is rex, i’m queer and use they/them pronouns

have like a caramel colored skin-tone and im 5’3 (short king). Rn i have a purple-pink short mullet and i have pretty curly hair(the ethnic popped off hehe), im pretty chubby but i have an hourglass shape, im pretty busty(im a fuckin k bro😭) and thicc thighs(thicc thighs save lives, sorry i’ll stop). I dress pretty alternative but i cant just choose one subculture tho, i wear a lot of heavy eye makeup. I could say i dress kinda “showy” but thats kinda what only fits me, but also who gives a fuck.

Im a libra sun, scropio moon, and gemini rising. This means that im a pretty social person and always wanna hang out with friends and just have fun, but moon in scropio makes my emotions rlly haywire and kinda boosts any sorta negative emotion. I really like making people laugh, it makes me feel helpful, but im also good at being to mother figure for people.

My hobbies include art (painting, drawing), sleeping (because i stay up mad late😭✌🏽), reading comics, Marvel and D.C superheroes, and super villains, cartoons, and anime/manga.

My favorite music genre’s are rock, alternative, emo, rap, and a little bit if indie music.

Personality: funny, sarcastic, creative, kind, inappropriate and the right times. Like im not gonna pull out a dick joke in front of your family

A good Match Up for you would be…

Asmodeus!

With both of you being people who prefer to have fun with friends instead of spending time by yourselves, this match might seem obvious. But even though the two of you could spend hours in whatever club has the loudest music tonight or in the bar that serves the tastiest drinks with the wildest people around, truly getting to know each other might be a disaster waiting to happen.

Where Asmodeus is loud and dramatic, you are calm and motherly. At first this opposites attract scenario might seem ideal, but while it might go well for a little while, both of you can soon feel the toll of the loop you two create. With you wanting to feel helpful and Asmodeus wanting to feel helped, this relationship can quickly grow toxic. It is only after some outside interference, namely you venting to Simeon on how drained you feel lately, that Asmodeus begins to realize how much he takes advantage of your kind nature.

The change is immediate, but subtle. Instead of plopping down on your lap and ranting about his day he joins you on the bed and asks you about yours. When he would have dragged you out to party at any time of the night he more often prefers to sit down with you to watch a show you currently enjoy or watch as you work on your latest painting.

Instead of benefiting of you in the most obvious way like he has for a while, he learns to appreciate the other sides of you as well. Listening to your inappropriate comments muttered under your breath while Diavolo or Lucifer reprimand you, watching you create otherworldly beauty with nothing but a blank canvas and a sets of paints or spreading just a little bit of kindness where he would have gladly made things even worse.

And just like that, he realizes that even an old demon like him can still learn new tricks. It is in his nature to take the more dramatic route, to spread a little dissent and drama wherever he goes, but he more and more often notices how this negative energy influences you. Where before he would start fights left and right without a single thought, these days he more and more often finds himself stopping to think before acting. That doesn't mean that he will completely change his ways as he still is a demon, but in the end, you wouldn't have it any other way.

I hope you like your Match Up!

#match up #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus

[deardiaryxo1]

Dear Diary,

I've decided to start writing a diary here, a place where I can pour out my emotions and thoughts without fear of anyone ever stumbling upon it. 🤫

High school can be such a whirlwind of emotions, and I desperately need an outlet to put my feelings on something 🫠.

You see, there's this guy that I'm head over heels in love with, but he doesn't even know I exist lol

Every day, I see him walking through the halls, he is year older. He's …..HOOOOOOT. 😱😭 But there's one problem - he already has a girlfriend.🙂

It's hard for me to understand why he's with her. She seems more interested in the idea of dating someone as attractive as him, rather than truly being in love with him. She's the popular girl, the one everyone adores. With her blond hair and blue eyes, people say she's the most beautiful girl in school. But honestly, I don't see it. To me, she just looks like an average popular girl from any other school.

It's frustrating to watch them together, knowing that I could offer him so much more. I see the way he gazes at her, hoping to find a connection that seems to be missing. I yearn for him to see me 😭

But for now, I'll keep my feelings hidden, locked away inside the pages of this diary. I'll continue to watch him from afar, silently cheering him on in my heart. Maybe, just maybe, someday he'll notice me and see beyond the facade of popularity.🫠

Anyways, let’s get to the small twist of this all lol {DRUM ROLL} 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

You see, for the past two weeks, I have been talking to him on Facebook, but there's a twist to the story - he doesn't know it's me. 😭😂

Let me explain.

I created a fake Facebook account, using a different name and all info, and approached him with a weird shit story lol I told him that I had seen him around and blah blah blah and surprisingly, he went along with it.

The chats have been going on for two weeks now, and we've developed quite a bond. 🫠 We talk about our days (as if I don’t know his day 🥲). It's quite amusing to listen to him sharing his experiences, knowing I already have insight into his life.

I must admit, it's become a bit of a best friend conversation, despite the fact that most of what I've told him is a lie.

However, amidst all these lies, there is one truth that I've stuck to - my name. I may have created a fake persona, but my name remains unchanged. Perhaps it's because deep down, I believe that honesty should be at the core of any relationship, even if it's built on deception.

I find it intriguing how easily we've formed a connection, despite the dishonesty that lurks behind every message. We seem to have a lot in common, and it's effortless to keep our conversations flowing. Yet, there's a part of me that wonders how long I can maintain this charade without it coming crashing down. 😫

I can't help but wonder how he would react if he discovered the truth. Would he be angry, hurt, or understanding? Would he appreciate our connection enough to overlook the lies I've told? It's a risk that I knowingly took, but now it keeps me up at night, wondering about the potential consequences. 😭

As the days pass, the situation with him becomes increasingly complicated. It seems that he is eager to take our online connection to the next level, suggesting meeting up or casually saying hello in person. This puts me in a precarious position, as I am torn between maintaining the facade and coming clean about my true identity.

Whenever he brings up the subject of meeting, I find myself crafting feeble excuses to avoid the situation. 😩 So far, my excuses have been successful in diverting his attention away from the idea. But deep down, I know that this cannot go on forever. Sooner or later, I will have to confront the truth and make a decision about how to proceed.

Maybe I am selfish but let me say one thing - whatever is going on is better than nothing 🥹

Yours sincerely,

A Hopeful Hearty

#dear diary #diary #personal diary #my diary #tumblr diary #thoughts #daily journal #mindfulness #self reflection

[buckyownsmylife]

Just One - John Winchester smut

The one where John has been obsessed with killing you but now that he found you...

Warnings: smut, as close to hatefucking as I can write, witch!reader, masturbation (f), oral (m, f), dirty talk, degradation laced with praise?, hairpulling kink, namecalling (bitch, whore), John wants it to hurt, slight size kink (blink and you’ll miss), p in v, spanking, biting, unprotected sex, cumplay, unspecified age gap

Word count: 2.2k

A/N:  This one is a part of my kinktober celebrations. My original intention for this October was to work exclusively around prompts that my wonderful friend @darkficsyouneveraskedfor created for her challenge and dedicate each story to a different friend. My new plan became then 31 days of different kinks, which expanded on a poly relationship with Stucky, as you might know by now. However, some of the stories I started were already truly loved by me, and so I kept on writing them. It worked well because as it turns out, I am fortunate enough to have more than 31 friends on Tumblr, so here is the story I wrote for @negans-attagirl​. This most likely celebrates my last time writing for John! Special thanks to my @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for reading this even though she’s not really into Supernatural! I love you for it!

I knew he was there. Watching. I’d been running away from him for so long, it felt like second nature now - to look over my shoulder, hold my breath when a stranger got too close. Watch the shadows and see if they took the form of a well-built man who wanted nothing more than to see me dead.

But I didn’t just wait around for my inevitable ending, oh no. I’d studied him just as much as he did to me, prepared myself for what was to come as I fled the state and traveled borders in the hopes of throwing him off. I concocted potions and spells and thought about everything I could do to him whenever he found me again.

Most of all, I thought of him. How could I not? Not only was he my main concern in this life, but the man was just walking sin. And if I were to go down, I was determined to at least go down on him before he killed me.

So I slowly left the diner across from the motel I’d been hiding in for the last three weeks and returned to my room, making sure to leave the door unlocked while I took off my clothes. The sound of the door closing behind me wasn’t unmistakable, and we both knew that. “Feel like joining me?” I asked as I sat down on the bed and spread my legs for his eyes, my hand traveling down my body, playing with my nipples before settling between my thighs. He didn’t look confused, not even for a moment.

This sexual tension between us, it’d never been one-sided. It was there from the beginning, electrifying our interactions as desire swirled in the air around us. I was convinced it was the main reason why he couldn’t just let me go.

He leaned his head to the side, but didn’t say anything. He was too focused on what I was doing, the way my fingers rubbed my clit before dipping inside my hole only to come back up wetter, the sounds of my actions filling the air around us.

“I don’t see why not.” The words sent a thrill up my spine, and without even stopping to consider what I was doing, I dropped to my knees before him, reaching out for his jeans. “Can’t let you get off all by yourself.”

I hummed appreciatively as I stuck out my tongue to lick the red head of his cock, already intoxicated with his taste. “Such a gentleman… even when you’re planning to kill me.” His chuckle was like thunder, reverberating through me and making my clit throb as I wrapped my lips around his member.

“It would be a waste if I didn’t put this pretty mouth to work.” His thumb brushed against my lower lip until I licked it and enveloped it with my mouth, making him groan. “So fucking warm. I’m gonna enjoy filling this hole with my cock.”

His words had me clenching around nothing, the overwhelming wetness that dripped from me now slathering the inside of my thighs, no doubt reaching the floor. It made me desperate to please him, desperate to fill my mouth with his cock.

So I wrapped my lips around the head of his member and began sucking, at first looking up to see his darkened, lust-filled eyes before actually closing mine to fully appreciate his taste, the weight of him on my tongue.

I licked every single inch of his skin until my saliva coated his member. It was a beautiful cock, a cock that deserved to be worshiped. I wasn’t one to enjoy being on my knees too much, but his thickness was just too tempting. I needed to pay it the proper respects.

So I took him as well as I could, ignoring the way tears rose to my eyes as I willingly choked myself on his cock, trying my best to breathe through my nose in an effort to reach his navel.

I wasn’t able to. But he didn’t seem to mind, hand wrapped around my hair, forcing my movements as I slobbered all over his dick. “Such a good little cocksucker…” he absentmindedly commented, almost to himself.

“Were you expecting me?” I looked up to see him looking down at me, actually waiting for an answer. So I pulled away, wiped the spit from my jaw before replying honestly, “Always.”

Because, well… How could I sleep peacefully without thinking about the man who wanted to kill me?

But his answer was a chuckle and an almost condescending head pat, his deep warm voice making me even wetter when he complimented, “Good girl.” God, he could kill me right now. I’d go willingly and happily.

I eagerly sucked him off a bit longer, losing myself in the almost-sounds that I could pick up from his body: the little groans and pants, the way he cleared his throat instead of growling his desire for me. He wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t show his satisfaction to a little witch.

I could live with that.

“Stop that.” His words were accompanied by a harsh tug on my hair, pulling me up until I was standing on my tip toes, my face mere inches from his. “Wanna fuck you now. I can kill you tomorrow.”

The fact that he never kissed me didn’t escape me. This was a quick fuck, it would not be mistaken as anything else. Still, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t drag as much fun out of it as I possibly could… especially considering these might very well be my last hours of living.

“So you want me?” I questioned, smirking at his answering huff. He didn’t want to admit it, of course - that would be recognizing I had some sort of power over him. So he opted to tighten his grip on my hair until I moaned from the pleasurable pain, eyes sparkling in their darkness as he took in just how desperate I was for him.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he settled for saying as I laughed. “Always a fucking tease. Is your cunt as bitter as your soul, brat?” I bit my lip as he threw me on the bed, already anticipating his next move.

“Find out for yourself.” His expression made it clear that he was doubtful when he tore off my underwear and threw the scraps of it over his shoulder, pulling me to the edge of the bed by my ankles without much care.

He pressed on the inside of my thighs to keep my legs spread for him, and when his tongue licked a line up my cunt, I clenched around nothing, eyes closing for just a second to relish in the barely-there sensation.

“Oh, fuck…” His voice was barely over a whisper, but I still heard it and when I opened my eyes to look at him, he was staring directly at his meal, like he couldn’t believe what he had just tasted. “So fucking sweet…”

He went back there with a newfound hunger, and although I knew he wasn’t doing this to make me cum, I also knew he would achieve that - easily. It didn’t take many of his long swipes over my hole, the twirls around my clit to make me gasp for him, hands flying down to pull on his hair.

I think the only reason he didn’t slap them away was because he seemed to like the slight sting I provided him.

“Fucking cum, bitch,” he growled at some point, surprising me until he revealed why it was that he wanted me to orgasm. “I want to drink all of your essence before I shove my cock into you, make sure it’ll really sting.”

But I knew it was more than that - I knew he wanted more of my taste. It was everywhere now, dripping from his beard, smearing the inside of my thighs, but he kept his eyes focused on me, waiting for my breaking point.

I saw embers of flames when it arrived. Maybe it predicted my death at the stake, but I couldn’t mind it. Not when John was rising to his full height and very easily turning me around to lay on my stomach, keeping my legs dangling off the edge of the bed when he kicked them apart.

I was trapped under his much larger body and I didn’t mind it at all. He shoved my face against the bed, like he didn’t want to see it as he slowly started to stretch me out.

I bit my lower lip as I struggled to adjust around his thickness, and by the sounds John was releasing, I could see he was just as overwhelmed by me and the pussy he wanted to destroy.

I couldn’t believe how good it felt to be ravished by John Winchester. No one had ever fucked me like this before, and I was sure he knew, with the melodic moans that kept slipping from my lips, try as I might to reel them in.

“Those fucking sounds…” He groaned behind me, seconds before his hand landed harshly on the right cheek of my ass, making me whine even louder. “You’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you?”

I was too far gone to even try to deny it, fucking myself back against his delicious thick cock, desperate to cum again, this time feeling completely full of him.

“Who would have thought…” He panted, hips maintaining their onslaught against me. “Nasty fucking witch, such a tight little pussy.” Each word was accompanied by a particularly brutal thrust and I relished in it. I relished in witnessing the great John Winchester get carried away because of my body.

“Fuck,” he cursed after he managed to locate my sweet spot, which in turn had me instinctively clenching around him. “Why do you feel so fucking good?”

Under him, I just giggled, my hand easily locating the spot above where we were connected so I could rub myself to an orgasm. “I’m convinced you’re the devil, little witch.”

Stifling a laugh, I started to move my hips back so I could fuck myself on him, showing him how I liked to be treated - even harder and rougher than he was already treating me. And because I really was a brat, I couldn’t help but taunt, “Do you feel sorry you have to destroy it?”

I knew he understood I was referring to my pussy, and when his hand slapped mine away so he could take over the motions over my clit, I closed my eyes to let bliss take me.

“Almost,” he grunted, a confession I almost lost in the fog of my high. But here lied an opportunity, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away without a fight.

“I mean… you could just keep it,” I offered, barely over a whisper so as not to anger the man who kept fucking me. I didn’t want him to stop his movements, so I hoped even if he did get pissed at my suggestion, he’d just take it out on me. “Use it whenever you want.”

I didn’t get a response from him - at least, not verbally. But he did speed up his movements, pounding me so hard the bed started to hit the wall and I knew we were seconds away from having the neighbors banging on it, telling us to keep it down, but I couldn’t care less.

Not when John was burying his face in the crook of my neck, beard tickling me as he bit on my shoulder to keep his roar from reverberating in the room when he shot his cum deep inside of me.

He didn’t wait even a second before pulling out. I missed his weight on top of me, but the feeling of his cum slowly slipping from my used pussy was enough to give me some comfort.

“Shit, I really opened you up, huh?” He chuckled, rubbing his cream around my hole before pushing it back into me, making me whine. “I’m still fucking hard. Did you put a spell on me, brat?”

I laughed as he massaged my ass, apparently incapable of fully retreating his touch from my skin. “Is that why I’m still aroused?” He insisted, rutting his very much, still hard member against my thigh. “Tell me.”

Stretching, I giggled at his silly accusation. “I think I just turn you on, old man,” I teased, wiggling my ass at him. He took the bait and spanked it, before I felt his weight leave the bed altogether.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower, wash you off of me,” he explained, stopping at the door of the bathroom to stare at me. “You better be there when I come out,” he warned and I bit my lip, understanding exactly what he meant.

“I don’t think I can walk if I tried,” I giggled, but he just tipped his head back, humming noncommittally. Before long, I heard the shower turning on, the sound of the water running down the drain almost lulling me to sleep.

I made sure to leave my panties right next to the note I wrote for him to find when he got out of the shower. Three simple words, a promise: “Until next time”.

#my fics #john winchester smut #john winchester #smut #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #john winchester fanfic #john winchester fanfics

[ohnominamino]

An Essay on Love in Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time

Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is a movie about love in all its forms. From the love of family, friends, and neighbors, to the compassion we feel for people we have never met. The movie reminds us that love is something we continuously gain, lose, and choose, again and again. Which love is greatest? In my opinion, the answer to that question is left up to interpretation. In this essay, I will give my own personal interpretation on certain character interactions and what I believe we are meant to take away from their Rebuild portrayals. 

The character I will start with is one I’ve noticed the most outrage over from people who haven’t seen the movie and read out-of-context spoilers: Kaworu Nagisa. 

Kaworu is a beloved character among many Evangelion fans, especially those who are members of the LGBT+ community. He is a canonical love interest of Shinji Ikari and I want to reassure people that this final movie does not change that fact. However, it does not make the couple blatantly endgame either. This skirting around the couple might make some fans upset, and while their feelings are completely valid, I do not think they fully understand the difficulties faced by LGBT+ people in Japan, nor do they understand the way that romance is typically conveyed in Japanese storytelling. (I recommend watching “Is ‘Yuri On Ice’ Good Gay Representation?” by James Somerton for more about storytelling nuances.) 

What have we been shown about Shinji and Kaworu’s love? The good news is, anything you read into the original TV series and End of Evangelion is completely true for the Rebuilds— because Kaworu is the same Kaworu. This movie proves Evangelion is a single universe set on repeat, and that Kaworu and Shinji meet each other every loop, and in each, Kaworu is trying to make Shinji happy. Within the final movie, Shinji becomes aware of the loops and chooses to break the cycle and free Kaworu from his pain. 

What does the relationship between Shinji and Kaworu teach us? I believe the purpose of their love is to show the audience that first, in the words of Kaji, “love has no gender.” Second, I believe Kaworu’s love in particular is a warning about basing your own happiness solely upon another person. There are parallels drawn between Gendo/Yui and Kaworu/Shinji. Gendo could not exist without Yui, and so he was willing to destroy the world to be reunited with her. For Kaworu, it was not the destruction of humanity, but the destruction of himself that defined his tragedy. What’s important within the final movie, in my opinion, is that Shinji does not reject Kaworu’s love. With the insight he’s gained from remembering past loops, he sees Kaworu’s love and appreciates him, but he also sees his suffering and wants to ease it. He helps Kaworu into a new world where he can seek his own happiness and find balance in his life (something his father did not have). 

While Kaworu and Shinji are not seen as an explicit couple at the end of the movie, it’s significant to note that, when he sets Kaworu free, Shinji holds out his hand to Kaworu as a promise to stay together. Over the course of the movie, Shinji comes to accept his connection to others through accepting touch (in the form of hand holding and hugs from Rei, Misato, and Gendo); however, Kaworu is the only character in the movie who Shinji initiates physical contact with and that speaks to how much Kaworu means to him. This simple gesture, in my opinion, keeps the door open for Kaworu and Shinji to be a couple one day, after Kaworu has found more balance in his life. 

If I were to write an entire essay about Kaworu, it would be titled, “Out of the Coffin: How the Resurrection of Kaworu Nagisa Buries the Tragic Lovers Trope” because this movie truly does just that. 

Another potential love interest for Shinji for many years was Asuka; however, unlike with Kaworu, the nature of this relationship is not left up to interpretation by the end of the movie. Before her big final battle, Asuka tells Shinji, “I think I loved you back then” (regarding their time in middle school) and Shinji, during Instrumentality, tells Asuka, “Thank you for saying you loved me. I loved you too.” It is past tense. 

What does this relationship teach us? It’s a beautiful way of showing that we can love people, and grow and learn, and let go when we no longer fit each other. Letting go is an integral part of life. Whereas other Instrumentality scenes involve touch, Asuka’s, mirroring the ending of End of Evangelion, has a distinct lack of touch. Shinji sits with his arms around his knees and Asuka turns her body away from him. He gives her his thanks and he sends her off to find her peace. Asuka and Shinji teach us that it’s okay to grow out of relationships. You can appreciate what they were to you at the time they happened and move on. 

What about Rei? To be honest with you, this movie is less about Rei’s relationship with Shinji, and more about her relationship with the world. Rei teaches movie viewers about the simple pleasures of living. While Shinji is in mourning for the first quarter of the movie, Rei (as “Sokkuri”) is learning about crop growing and community, the wonder of babies and kittens, the joy of the bath after a long day of fruitful work, and the power of words and picture books. At the end of her life, she only regrets not having more time to spend with the people she loves. In Instrumentality, Shinji accepts her hand when it is offered to him, which I hope signifies he is ready to see life as she had come to during the final movie. 

Rei teaches us that we can love living and to not take our limited time for granted. 

Next, we move on to parent figures: Gendo and Misato. I think they both represent people ill suited to the role, who do the best they can despite it. Gendo, as mentioned for Kaworu above, is a warning about defining yourself by your relationship to another person (Ikari, afterall, is Yui’s name). He is also a lesson in how people mourn and how they can lash out. Misato, like Gendo, felt herself a poor parent, and while mourning the loss of Kaji, she gave up her child to be raised by other people, but, unlike Gendo, went forward to put all her energy into protecting humanity. Both of them reach out to hug Shinji within the movie and he accepts them where they are. 

While I wouldn’t say the movie shows that Shinji forgives Gendo, it does show his making an effort to understand and make peace with what others have done. For Misato, it is fair to say we can still hope for a better future, even when it feels like everything is crumbling around us. Her self-sacrificing love for her son and the whole of humanity is what enables Shinji to then save the people he loves (via the spear of Gaius). 

In the movie, we are also shown friendship. Touji, Hikari, and Kensuke are important members of their community who maintain open communication with those around them and respect others’ boundaries. They are patient and kind and represent the importance of being present. They teach us to meet people where they are and support them how we can, whether it’s giving them a warm meal or giving them space when they need it. 

There are many more characters that could be talked about, but today I am going to end on Mari. Mari’s love is physical. She enjoys being in people’s personal bubbles. She cuddles Asuka and helps trim her hair, she gets into Gendo’s space at college, and at the end of the movie, she reaches out her hand to Shinji to help him stand up from his seat. Upon first glance, some viewers might take Mari and Shinji’s final scene to be romantic, but the reality of it is this: We do not, and cannot, know what kind of love she is meant to represent in his life.

We do not know Mari’s relationship with Shinji because they hardly interact in the movie. She clearly cares about him, but in my opinion, it comes from a place of duty and compassion— Mari was friends with Gendo and Yui. She has been there since he was born. (If we take the manga to be canon, then Mari even had romantic feelings towards his mother. Her hairstyle and glasses are from Yui. At the end of the movie, Mari has changed her hairstyle, which to me implies she has moved on, and “getting” with Shinji would be a thematic break.)

Additionally, their conversation, while flirty, is very much one that implies they haven’t seen each other for a while. Mari is someone who is very physically affectionate. With everyone. If someone ignores that and focuses on the fact she gets into Shinji’s space and claims that’s romantic, they better acknowledge it’s possibly romantic with Asuka, who we see far more intimacy with. When Mari flirts, Shinji flirts back and her initial reaction is surprise, “Wow, you’ve learned to talk back!” Her purpose is clear. She is there to remove the DSS choker from his neck. 

Personally, I love that Mari is the one to close the movie, for the exact reason that we do not know her relationship with Shinji. For Mari to have an assigned role would be to say, “This kind of love is most important,” when the entire movie was spent showing us each love is of equal importance in the balance and building of our lives. (It’s wonderful to see those types of love embodied across the platform from Shinji at the end of the movie: Rei and Kaworu, who, just like in End of Evangelion, could signify the ability to connect with others and be loved.)

If you view Mari as a romantic love interest, then I think it speaks to the value that you as an individual give to romance rather than what the characters themselves are feeling. To me, Mari, the character who was created to “destroy Eva,” is a symbol of all love. When Shinji takes her offered hand and then pulls her to run into the new world, it’s a symbol of balance. The give and take of any kind of relationship. 

We are the product of every relationship we have ever had, from our parents to the people we once loved, from our friendships to any other person we want to stay connected to. Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is a story about these relationships. It is a story about love. 

#rebuild of evangelion #kaworu nagisa #shinji ikari #asuka shikinami #mari makinami #rei ayanami #misato katsuragi #gendo ikari #thrice upon a time #kawoshin #essay #movie review #shinkawo

[cower-before-power]

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon.  “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles.  “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey​ @chaotic-nick​ @manjiroarchiviste​

#meet cute collab #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader

[angelictrl]

hihi wifey, im feeling kinda anxious/sad in general so can i request just have satan + asmo being jealous tysm ❤️❤️❤️

JEALOUS SATAN & ASMO.

a/n ;; sorry that this is late and i apologize if this is sucky ! head’s been empty but i’m trying desperately not to get writer’s block </3 also, asmodeus’ part got longer than expected, oops.

cw ;; threats, insecurities, hurt-ish/comfort. satan is a moody baby and asmodeus appreciation/supremacy. not proof-read. that’s all, really, besides some cranky demons. 

# satan. ``

@ others making him jealous . . .

whoever has the audacity to go and make the literal avatar of wrath jealous definitely has a death wish. whether or not some random demon who was getting too touchy, flirting, or taking up your time and attention with or without knowing that you were his partner, he’d still get pissed. 

however, he has two reactions: either, 1. he storms up to them and puts them in their place/threatens them before pulling you away if he hasn’t destroyed something, or 2. he’s just on the verge ... sitting there, peeking over a book with a menacing aura as he glares at everyone like a cat, ready to claw someone in the corner. 

satan trusts you, so if he goes with the latter, he’ll be silently raging internally while he waits for you to tell them you have a boyfriend and decline their advances. if they continue to push you when you already told them no, that’s when blondie here will snap and go with reaction 1.

“oi, just what do you think you’re doing ? my s/o already said no, you pitiful creature(s). quit gawking at them before i forcefully make you. understand?”

@ brothers making him jealous . . .

on the other hand, if it’s one of his brothers hogging all of your attention, he gets more petty than anything, really. the threats are still there, though. and especially if it’s lucifer who’s stealing you away ... yikes, everyone in HoL will know his change in mood as he’s been on lucifer’s ass more than usual with his pranks and curses.

satan will be visibly annoyed and give each and every one of you the cold shoulder by locking himself in his room more often than not (leviathan the hermit, who ?) to get lost in his books until he gets reassurance and affection from you.

he’s not really insecure, but more lost and confused than anything. he’s the brother that’s pretty much the odd one out, though none of them treat him differently, and he’s always had an issue with feeling enmeshed to lucifer. 

even when he knows he’s his own person, he was created from a quite literal ungodly amount of rage and wrath. it’s all he’s known before you came along into his life. so surely ... you’ll excuse him for looking like a kicked puppy as he tries to sort through these new feelings, right ? 

right, because you’re already there holding his hand in reassurance. that same rough hand that’s tortured and destroyed so many things is being held by someone so fragile ... someone who’s looked death in the eye ... someone who makes him feel like he’s something more than just a monster. 

you truly were just like that main character in one of his books ... you were the beauty to his beast. or, properly phrased, you brought out the beauty in his beast. 

# asmodeus. ``

@ others making him jealous . . .

‘oh, honey, you look like rumpelstiltskin, yet you still think you can compare to me ?‘ pretty much his thought process right there.

no but really, asmo may be sweet and the most gentle out of the brothers right next to beel, but he’s still an avatar of a sin. there’s no doubt that the lot of demons there in the devildom would be intimidated by asmodeus in the competition for your love - and honestly, who could blame them ?

most of them who don’t live under a rock would already know that you two are in a relationship with how much asmo posts about you, so it would take some serious devotion from any demon who dares to have the gall to compete with him - whether or not they view you as a fling - and asmodeus will not hesitate to get petty. 

you’re going to need to reassure your demon boyfriend here that you only have eyes for him before he exposes the second half of deep, dark secrets this other person/people have on the internet ^^;;

@ brothers making him jealous . . .

he’d still think of himself as somewhat superior and cuter, but he’d tone things down. he wouldn’t ruin his brothers’ lives like how he would be willing to do so with strangers.

regardless of whether or not it’s a stranger, friend, or brother of his, in the end, asmo will be extra touchy and will spoil you with more spa dates and trips to majolish than usual. this is mostly because he doesn’t want you to notice his recent gloomy change in mood as he’s stuck on the thought of ‘what if’ had you really left him for someone else. 

those intrusive thoughts just keep on swarming through his head ... so what better than to try to get back into routine with daily life ? he just hopes you haven’t taken notice, but unfortunately for him, you have. 

you’ve noticed his slightly disheveled hair and outfit along with the mountain of clothes and makeup piling up in his room and his vanity. plus, let’s not begin to even mention the excessive amount of concealer he’s been wasting to try and hide his eyebags.

things finally begin to progress in the communication area when you sit him down and confront him one night while everyone’s asleep. though, getting him to work through the root of his charismatic-party-animal mask proves to be quite difficult.

“dear, it’s adorable how you care so much for me, but you’re really going to get wrinkles this way. here, come a little closer and let me do your skincare first, then we’ll chat ... c’mon ~ i said closer, hon. i don’t bite ... well, unless you want me to ~”

“asmo, baby ...” you cut him off for the nth time that night as he tried to change the subject again, watching the demon with champagne-colored hair who flung himself at you again glance at you with his cheeky smile faltering for a split second before he quickly regained his composure, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t catch onto. “please, stop changing the topic. i’ve come to talk to you ... the real you. no spontaneous activities, no makeovers, just you.”

asmodeus’ face paled ever so slightly and his eye twitched as he thought of playing dumb, but you were just so sincere. he couldn’t even manage out a ‘whatever do you mean ?’ before laughing in disbelief while turning the other way. “this - this is the real ..... the real ... me ... i have no clue what you’re talking about ...” he choked out while tears glossed over his eyes, his back turned to you. 

in his theatrics and dramatic antics, he’d fake cry occasionally, but to truly feel such strong, negative emotions especially towards himself as he cried ... it was ugly. he was ugly. and now, surely if you saw his face, you’d leave him too. for he was such a shallow, ugly, good-for-nothing demon. no matter how much he polished his attitude to be sassy and charismatic or tried on the latest trending outfits and makeup, there was always this feeling of emptiness left in him. not like the black hole everyone called beel’s stomach, but this void left in his heart, this hurting in his chest that wouldn’t go away when the afterglow of each party and hookup arrived, this longing for warmth - not even just physically - for someone to hold him like he did for his brothers on their lonesome nights when they remembered the past.

the avatar of lust was knocked out of his thoughts by a pained noise, confusion written on his face before he realized it was himself. he was sobbing into your chest as you held him close, your fingers delicately carding through his tousled hair. ugly. he thought each sorrowful noise that came out of him was ugly, and he couldn’t help but chant sorry’s your way through tears. he didn’t know when you had came closer once more to hold him, but he buried his face into your shirt and finally let loose the flood of his emotions clinging desperately to you.

“p-please ... don’t go away too, s/o. you’re the true jewel of the devildom, my dear. you’re so much more beautiful than i’ll ever be ... and i ... i don’t mean that just by l-looks ... please ... i love you so much ...”

obey me masterlist.

#(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ ritsuki’s requests. #this was so shitty im so sorry #obey me! satan #om satan #omswd satan #obey me satan #satan x mc #satan x reader #obey me! asmodeus #om asmodeus #omswd asmo #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x mc #asmo x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x s/o #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me angst #obey me comfort #obey me drabble #obey me shall we date #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me fanfic

[writella]

Touch

Pairing: Luke Patterson x reader

Summary: Luke’s spirit is brought down by the pain he has caused his parents as well as the hardships that come from adoring you, a lifer. He craves your touch but his ghostly form keeps him from getting the thing he most desires to recieve.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: First fic! Sorry that it's kind of long. I don’t know if this would be considered “angsty” but it is kind of sad in the beginning but trust me it becomes really sweet at the end!

Julie and the Phantoms was such a good show. I loved how the writers and Charlie showed that despite how positive Luke was, he was harboring a lot of pain inside when it came to how he left him mom that he didn’t show anyone. This piece touches on that point a little bit more. If you would like to leave a review, that would be super appreciated. I’m sure there are a bunch of grammar errors anyway.

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Luke came to you after he left Julie at his parents house. He told you about the song to his mom, about how his parents still celebrated his birthday after all these years. He told you about the grief he felt and how he felt like he had no one. You told him that he had you, and Julie, and the guys most importantly, that you were sure they missed their family members too. He admitted to you though, that both Alex and Reggie avoided talking about their family, it was one of the only things that they weren’t being honest about with each other. He said he couldn’t be the one to bring it up.

“I’m the strong one!” He explained. “If I don’t push them forward, they’ll fall apart. I have to be happy, I have to be okay so they-“

“It’s okay not to be okay all the time, Luke,” You interrupt him, then you send him a sympathetic smile as you come to a realization: “I didn’t know you put all this pressure on yourself... I’m sorry. Come here,” without thinking you motion him forward, arms reaching to grasp his back, only catching handfuls of air.

Luke gives you an exasperated laugh, in the heat of it all, he almost forgot for a second himself.

“Well, this is a strange little relationship we have, isn’t it?” Tears swipe down his cheek.

“Luke...” you didn’t know how to respond, you cursed yourself for making the situation worse.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Or whenever. Alright?” His words were short as he forced a smile and disappeared from your sight.

You woke up from your haze and caught your eyes staring out the window, looking at the boy you were just thinking about. He sat on an old brown chair right next to the garage door. Julie took some down that hung from the garage ceiling a few nights ago for him. She said she got tired of seeing Luke crouching down on the concrete like a sad lost puppy.

“Why don’t you just stop avoiding him and finally go down there?” Julie sighs. “Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”

“Than all of us.” Alex chimed in.

You were hesitant but as Julie pushed you to the door it seemed as if you had no choice.

“You’re our only hope.” Reggie said with a sad smile, echoing a quote from his favorite franchise.

As you walked toward Luke, his gaze on the night sky never faltered.

“You don’t have to say anything... Just want to be with you. Alright?” You said softly as you sat down on the chair next to him. You decided you were only going to keep him company, not dwell on what happened. You remembered what he said about always having to be the strong one, you guessed that’s what you were trying to do now.

He only slightly nodded, not wanting to look you in the eye. He was surprised you’d finally come. Everyone, Reggie, Alex, and Julie had come to sit with him from time to time, getting nothing out of him. He sort of wished you finally would show up but now that you’re here, he couldn’t say anything despite how much he wanted to. He tried to urge the words to his tongue but his apprehension kept them stuck inside his brain. He bounced his knee, his frustration as well as your closeness was getting to him.

He knew he shouldn’t have been ignoring you, you must’ve felt as bad as he did but he needed some time to think. Maybe just a day, he reasoned, just to go through the motions by himself and then wake up going back to his easy going self again the next morning. This is what he told himself, yes, but then a day became another, and then another.

It surprised him, how out of it he was. Usually, it was so easy for him to find the courage to remain optimistic but right now he just felt like a disappointment. He was usually able to thrive upon this fact, a 90s misfit, nowhere to go but up. He loved the idea that one day his band’s talent would shine so brightly everyone would have no choice but to see their beauty. And it didn’t come from anger, Luke was never a resentful person, it came from a place of purity. He wanted his music to make people feel connected; understood, just like it had for him. Or like it has for him up until now. He hadn't been able to play in days.

The bittersweet melody of Unsaid Emily became the mantra that invaded his brain this past week. Every time the song came to an end, his mind replayed the lyrics again, and again; an endless loop. And with that came the images of his parents, blowing out a birthday candle with misty tears in their eyes, thinking of their boy they believed they lost forever. And then there was you, of course. The prettiest girl he’d ever seen, who laughed at his confusing metaphors, and built him up when he was feeling down which was something he usually had to do for others. Ever since he met you, you were there for him in a way no one else had been. The thought almost relieved his pain. Could this truly be love? He had dated around before but never had he been in a real relationship. After finding the guys, the band was all he thought about, the only connection he felt he needed. Plus, he just had to prove to his mom that he could make it, and that took all of his attention. Another mistake, he thought.

Once again he revisits the memory of your arms going through him. Not only could he never apologize to his parents but he couldn’t even love one of the only people on Earth who could actually see him the way he wanted to. Never had he felt so completely helpless. He wanted you to know that he didn’t want to give up. He needed you to know that you were enough, but he was fearful to try anything despite how desperately he wanted touch. He even counted the ways he could do it in his head: perhaps he’d lightly stroke your knee, softly rub his thumb on your intertwined hands, maybe brush your hair behind your ear with his fingers lingering till he felt the last strand of hair slip away. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d even give you the softest kiss. One so pure and light, because while he was a ghost, he thought of you as an angel and he believed an angel deserved a touch just as delicate, but he couldn’t. He was dead.

It had been an hour of you two sitting in silence. You stared at him and sighed. You thought he was beautiful. You could go on endlessly about the physicality of that beauty but what really tugged on your heart was what was inside. His mind, his body, his soul, that was bound in optimism. You’d never seen anything like it. Right from when Julie met him, she told you, he put the realization of being dead, of being a ghost, behind him just to help her become a part of the music program again, giving her the words of encouragement, it’s a closed door, but you’ve gotta bust it open!

You felt terrible that you were a part of the reason why his spirit was currently crushed. You desperately wanted touch. You wanted him to know you were there for him but you knew words weren’t enough.

Screw it, you thought. You were going to try again and even if it didn’t work you were ready to tell him that you didn’t care, that seeing was all you needed to be with him. You wanted him to know that you weren’t giving up. You needed him to know that he was enough, fear wasn’t going to stop you.

You reached for his knee. Trying to touch the tips of his hand that laid there with yours, ready for the sensation of air to swoosh between your fingertips but then, just then, you... felt. First it was the tips of nails, then fingers, and as he turned his hand, eyes bulging wide, you felt his palm. You held it there for a second, soon sliding your palms together, you intertwined your fingers with his. You were actually holding hands.

Luke’s mouth went agape and you met his eyes, sharing the same look of disbelief. Seeing a tear roll down the right side of his face you realized your emotions mirrored his as one dripped down on the left side of yours. He wiped it away with his thumb, gripping your face a little more roughly than he intended to, the excitement apparent in his shaky hands.

He soon loosened his grip, now caressing your cheek, creating friction as he rubbed back and forth, replacing the chill of the night air on your skin with warmth. His fingers, then moved to your chin, then he poked your nose, brushed his fingertips against your eyelashes, till he finally rolled them against your lips, slowly. He couldn’t believe he felt you. The feeling was something even a dream couldn’t conjure up, something that even he couldn’t describe in a lovely song lyric; this was perfection; this was, indeed, love.

This revelation brought with it courage and with that he finally willed himself up off that chair and yanked your arm that was connected to your still intertwined hands with it and at once you became one with a hug. One so fierce and tight you couldn’t breath, his arms crushing your shoulders, his hands caressing your head, his fingers falling on the strands of your hair.

With one arm still around you, he moved one of his hands against your cheek once more, connecting his forehead to yours. You both relished in the closeness, breathing each other in.

“If I ever cross over, I bet this is what heaven feels like,” he said in a soft whisper, finally breaking the silence, but only adding to the moment’s loveliness. “I think you’re connected to my soul.”

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Thank you for reading!

#luke patterson x reader #luke jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #julie and the phantoms fic #my work #luke patterson #luke jatp #sunset curve #luke patterson fic #luke patterson imagine #luke jatp imagine #luke jatp fic #touch starve #touch starved #touch starve! luke #touch starved! luke