#i think it’s the shorts … why are they so short… it’s so ugly and plain….

[yioh]

i can’t be the only one who rly does not like furina’s design😭

#not as bad as nahida (that’s a low bar💀) but … idk… she looks so average #i think she just looks rly basic?? like the hair the dress etc there’s nothing that stands out other then the colour scheme of blue and #white and the crown on her head #which is rly boring #i wish they could have more stranger looking outfits and hair styles and accessories #to rly emphasise the gap between archons and others #ningguang’s design has more personality then furina and she’s a 4 star😭 #also her being the hydro archon.. highkey wanted something prettier😭 #1000% not an archon worthy design imo #venti and zhongli’s designs fit so beautifully w their archon concepts #i love ei’s design too it can be soft and gentle but she also has a terrifying and strong presence #itd be perfect if they didn’t try to sexualise the kimono #but it has Personality yknow she is giving godhood lol #furina is absolutely not 😭 #i think it’s the shorts … why are they so short… it’s so ugly and plain…. #the hair looks ugly to me but i think i would like it more if her outfit matched the vibe of her hair? #like her hair is very elegant but her outfit is just so casual and plain… #especially from the front #so it makes her head look freaking giant while she has a tiny body #she looks kinda disproportionate #genshin archons be so disappointing these days😭 #but ppl always seem to love them ???? #she rly does just look like any other girl #like you could slap her in any gacha game regardless of the concept and it could work because it’s just that basic of a design😭

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 6

Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange

"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.

You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.

It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.

Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight. 

For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room. 

In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.

You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up. 

You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts. 

"Nothing is wrong."

You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.

"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong." 

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.

"It's stupid, Stephen."

"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."

You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.

So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.

"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."

You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.

When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.

"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -" 

Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.

"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."

That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see. 

"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?" 

You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.

"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."

You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself. 

Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.

"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."

"Tell you what, I have an idea..." 

Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.

"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."

You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion. 

"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?" 

His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."

He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.

"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath." 

Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses. 

As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck. 

"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."

You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo. 

In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.

You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.

You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too." 

Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face. 

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. " 

Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.

"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together." 

Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.

He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.

You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers. 

As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera. 

You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides. 

"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."

A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.

Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink. 

"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."

A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours. 

"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."

He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.

"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine." 

You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.

He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.

"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."

With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.

A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights. 

"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby." 

You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind. 

Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.

Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.

Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.

As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.

He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move. 

"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."

Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.

"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."

He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting. 

"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess." 

You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements. 

You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb. 

"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."

Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.

He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter. 

Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind. 

You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.

Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.

Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.

You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.

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

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[callsign-rogueone]

the spider - l.m.

Liam Mairi x reader When you find an uninvited guest in your room, you find yourself knocking on Liam's door to ask him for help. words: 861 🏷: no book spoilers at all, just fluff! mentions of spiders but nothing too detailed (mild arachnophobe here) and Liam handles it for you 🥰 reader is referred to as a girl once, but no pronouns used. this was originally going to be for someone else, but I realized I haven't fed the Liam lovers in a while, so here you go!

“I need you,” you blurt as soon as Liam opens his door.

He blinks, thoroughly confused. “What?”

You take a breath and try again. “There is a ginormous spider in my room and I need you to do something about it. Please.”

“And I was the first person you thought of?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He has a point — you hardly know each other. 

“You’re my neighbor, so yeah, you were,” you answer, your cheeks warming. “Please, Liam?”

He doesn’t think you’ve called him by his first name, ever. To hear you whining it as you blink up at him, pleading… 

“Before it crawls into my bed or something,” you add urgently, shuddering at the thought. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” he says with a soft laugh. “Lead the way.”

He knows where your room is, knows you’re right across the hall, but he still trails a few paces behind as you make the incredibly short walk over.

You unlock the door and usher him inside, remaining out in the hallway.

He steps forward, taking it in; he’s caught glimpses over your shoulder, but never set foot inside.

It looks… lived in. There’s a pile of boots by the door, tonight’s homework and yesterday’s notes spread over the desk, and he could swear that’s a romance novel on your nightstand — you’re almost finished with it, judging by the location of the scrap of colorful parchment you’re using as a bookmark.

The bed is unmade, blankets pulled back as if you’d just gotten out of it. A small stuffed dragon sits on your pillow, a soft green thing that looks remarkably like Blythe.

And everything about this room smells like you, soft and sweet — he’s never figured out how you manage to do that, to smell so good when everyone in this entire school uses plain unscented soap.

His eyes finally catch on the intruder. It’s an ugly little fucker, but nothing to write home about, just a harmless garden variety.

“You know, it’s probably more afraid of you than you are of it,” he says with a glance over his shoulder.

“I highly doubt that,” you huff. “There is no reason why anything on Amari’s green earth should have that many legs. It’s damn creepy. Can you just smush it, please?”

“That’s a fair point. But it’s too big, if I smush it you’re gonna have spider juice on your wall.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew, okay, fine, um. There’s paper on the desk, and an empty cup.”

“See, you have the tools,” he begins, grabbing the aforementioned supplies, “you just need to take the leap and follow through with it.”

“No, thank you,” you reply from the corner of the room you’ve pressed yourself into, as far away from the thing as you can get. “I’ve faced enough of my fears this year already. This one is gonna have to wait.”

“Understandable,” he acknowledges, trapping it inside the cup and sliding the paper overtop it.

You give him plenty of space as he walks out the door, not leaving the corner until he returns a few minutes later. 

He holds up the paper silently, showing you the front and back, and flips the cup upside down, shaking it to prove that the spider is, in fact, gone.

“Where did you put it?” you ask, still paranoid.

“In the bushes, as far from your room as possible. Clear across the courtyard.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He sets the paper and mug back on the desk where he found them, looking back at you. 

You pull him into a loose hug, wrapping him in that lovely scent — orange blossoms and vanilla, he decides. It’s intoxicating.

“Thank you,“ you say quietly. “For dealing with it, and for not thinking it’s dumb or making fun of me.”

He falters for a moment, but quickly brings a hand up to rest on your back. “I’d never make fun of you. And it’s no problem, really.”

You realize you’ve never so much as shaken his hand before. You pull away quickly, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, that was… forward of me,” you manage.

He laughs softly. “It’s okay. Come get me if any of its friends show up. I’ll give them a talking to.”

You can’t help but smile. “Thank you, Liam.”

There you go again, saying his name and making him feel things.

He offers you a soft smile that nearly brings you to your knees. “Goodnight, pretty girl.”

“Goodnight,” you breathe, shutting the door after he’s back in his own room.

“He thinks I’m pretty,” you whisper aloud, smiling.

“Of course he does,” Blythe says, amused.

You jump. “What have I told you about eavesdropping?” 

She sounds like she’s rolling her eyes. “And what have I told you about broadcasting your every thought to me?”

You sigh, conceding. “I’m still working on that. I’m sorry.”

“All in good time, soft one. All in good time.”

You kick off your boots, flopping down onto your bed with a sigh and picking up your book again, but you’ve lost interest. Knights in shining armor be damned; all you can think about right now is Liam.

#Liz posting before 9pm? unheard of #liam mairi #liam mairi x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #reader insert #mine

[homunculus-argument]

I get that people are free to make whatever interpretations they want out of what they read, but in return I also want to have the freedom to protest people who Missed The Damn Point because their own worldview is so warped that they think I'm the one who's evil here. Like I can respect Death of the Author and all that, but at least kill me with something more respectable than a brick.

The Unfinished Book was set in a matriarchal society - mostly because writing Yet Another Patriarchal Fantasy World sounded boring to me, and I honestly didn't feel like a perfectly gender-equal society was plausible, and if I can't believe in something I was writing, how and why would anyone else? And the main villain of the story is a man. A man who's clever, a downright brilliant tactician, frighteningly good at manipulating people, great at thinking on his feet and switching tactics on the spot the first second he senses that his initial plan isn't turning out the way the meant for it to.

And on a surface level, yes, the reason he turned to being evil was because he isn't considered particularly pretty. But he's not just bitter because women don't want him - hell, he doesn't really even want women - he's mad about not having agency. He would manipulate women with his looks if he had any, but even then seduction would still only be a means to an end, which is having a say about his own life. He's not angry about being short or being plain, he's angry about the way his appearance has dictated his fate.

The fact that he only turned out to be a monster because of the way he was raised in a matriarchal society is kind of the whole point. Had he been given the opportunity to make a name for himself in something, be something more in his own right than an arranged marriage pawn for his mother, been valued as an individual instead of being literally named something translating to "the final unwanted son in a long string of unwanted sons", he would have taken that opportunity. Had he been born and raised in any other society, he would have figured out a way to become some sort of a war tactician, a diplomat, a general, most likely just as ruthless but not in the broken, deeply unsettlingly monstrous way that he was.

...And this one person in particular read this and concluded that the character was meant to be a cautionary tale against breaking out of social norms. Like that was the thing that made him a villain, just a short man being mad about being ugly. The whole point was that everyone suffers from people being forcibly shoehorned into rigid gendered roles regardless of their innate talents, because eventually someone shoved down too hard will fucking shatter, and if the only way they have any chance to have agency over their own life is through violence, they will opt for violence.

Like I get that readers can interpret things however they please and I have no say in it, but this guy did not take his sister hostage, turn her into a puppet ruler and himself rule from the shadows out of incel rage. He did that because he was what Cersei Lannister could have been if she was as clever as she thought she was.

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

December Prep 2

Let's look into a couple of things this week The first is how to properly study, research and gather information and the second is the various kinds of prompts you will see in the challenge throughout the year.

The basic steps in any research process are

Identify and develop your topic (we will have multiple so it will be important to follow the same steps for each topic.)

Preliminary search for information - we will be gathering a list of resources for everyone before the challenge begins including websites, a list of recommended books, and more.

Locate the information/ materials - Gather all your sources into one place! A folder on your pc, or a bookmark bar in your browser can go a long way to helping you keep this organized.

Evaluate and use Discernment on your informational sources.

Take notes! - self explanatory. Using the resources at your disposal, take notes on your selected topic, gather all of those notes, and keep them organized. You don't need to think of this in exact terms of a research paper, but the idea is the same! All of your notes will be helpful in actually filling and creating the pages for your grimoire! But, you also can just keep the notes as they are in your grimoire!

Now lets get on to the types of prompts you will see!

Meditation/ Journal - these will generally be the end of every week and after every practical prompt, so you can look back at what you've done and learned, in order to help you process what you'd done and how you feel and think about it.

Research/ Study - these will include things like herbs, gems, types of magical practices and topics, tools, history

Practical/ Hands on - at least one a week, where you get your hands dirty, so to speak, and really perform some magic or do the work you're studying.

Submissions - I encourage everyone to share their thoughts, ideas, and physical progress within the challenge. You don't have to share pictures, if you're not comfortable, but thoughts and ideas and a short post about what you accomplished!

Holiday/ Seasonal posts - We'll have posts for the typical holidays and some that not so common.

Divination prompts - On occasion we'll have a divination prompt. It won't necessarily require you to perform any divination if you're not comfortable or don't know how, but the option will be there!

Cooking prompt - We've all seen those cool witchy inspired cooking posts on this site. So why not do one? Why not learn to make bread? Or mead? Or cute little pastries? Or anything. This'll be a new prompt, one I encourage everyone to take part in and share!

There may be more of these added as we go, but in general this is all of the types of posts we'll be seeing!

What else is there to do?

Well if you’ve already got notes somewhere (a notebook or files on your computer or what have you) you’re gonna want to actually design a grimoire right? And this is a grimoire challenge right? So let’s look at different design and style options!

If you’ve seen the video I posted of my grimoire pages, they’re very scrapbook/ junk journal styled. Which is a fun and totally customizable option.

Let’s look at some note taking methods, to help us take notes as well as design our grimoire pages, and some scrapbook supplies and ideas for ways to decorate our grimoires.

https://crm.org/news/note-taking-methods#:~:text=There%20are%20many%20different%20methods,and%20Bullet%20Method%2C%20among%20others.

These are just a few links for some ideas.

Your grimoire should suit you, no matter how you choose to design and decorate it. It could be a scrapbook like mine, a bullet note journal, or a leather bound tome with thick ink lettering in a cipher that only you can read. However you want to design it, it should be an expression of you and your practice.

I am excited to be running this challenge again, and to be helping all of your find inspiration for your practices and grimoires!

Good luck and happy crafting!

Mod Hazel

#2024 grimoire challenge #grimoire #grimoire challenge #witch #witchy #witchcraft #pagan #paganism #witchy challenge #spell book #spells #witch spells #Witchblr #2024 GC #witch challenge #book of shadows #magick #magic #magical book #grimoire inspiration

[kenzuieee]

ran haitani x spoiled gf

nothing..just some ran headcanons

ran haitani who doesn’t even try to hide the fact that hes staring at you while being behind the wheel of his bugatti la voiture noire.

ran haitani whose eyes glance from the street infront of his eyes to you. he practically undress you with them anytime theres a red light as his left hand grips the steering wheel whilst his right hand caresses your plush thighs. 

y/n who has to constantly remind ran to focus on the road as he keeps losing focus due to y/n quite literally seducing him without even knowing it.

y/n who constantly runs up ran’s bank card almost every day without a care in the world ? why should she care ? her boyfriend is ran haitani for fucks sake !!

y/n who puts her pretty feet painted white on ran’s dashboard as she mindlessly scrolls on instagram.

“rannn, do you think this would look good on me ?” you ask as you show the older haitani the most basic dress ever with a big smile plastered over your face.

“baby..that dress is so plain and simple for $2000.” he chuckles as he eyes the short black wool and silk dior dress on your cracked iphone 14 pro max. “and when did you crack your phone love ? i just bought it two months ago.”

you huff and pout as you lean back into the black seat of his luxury car. “so you’re saying it’d be ugly on me ?” you roll your eyes and continue, “and its the screen protector idiot.”

“i didnt say that love, anything looks good on you. i just dont think its worth that price.” ran mutters.

“whatever ran, im still going to buy it” you roll your eyes again while putting the dress in your cart, along with the DIOR ADDICT LIP GLOW OIL and some simple red bottom heels to match the dress. 

ran haitani who would definitely buy his girlfriend skims okay ?

you never have any luck with skims drops, as if anyone ever does. so you find yourself constantly complaining to ran about how what you want is never in stock or everything being sold out before you can even get to it. honestly, you weren’t TELLING ran to buy you skims, you were just complaining about the unfortunate situation thats been happening for months and months with each drop.  so when you and ran haitani left another bonten meeting at a bonten owned club, he told you about how he had a surprise awaiting you at your shared penthouse.

a series of “rannnn, what is it ? will you tell me please ?” flooded his ears during the car ride home that he simply smiled and answered with a simple “you’ll see.”

uppon arrival you see two large delivery boxes sitting upon the doorstep and you question what it could be. ran carries them inside with ease. ran removes his shoes after taking the boxes inside and tells you to sit infront of him and open the packages. you look at him with a puzzled face but nonetheless, you open the first box.

anticipation kills you as you remove the loads of packing peanuts and tissue to finally see a clear bag that says “SKIMS” on it and you almost pass out. 

“babeee” you look at him with puppydog eyes “did you really ? is all of this for me” you look at him as hes pouring some tequila into a clear glass with a cigarette between his lips. he looks at you, winks, and tells you to try everything on for him. of course, the first set you try on for him is the “fits everybody micro thong” and the “fits everybody micro triangle barlette.”

hi pookies, first post ig :3 this is the first “fanfic” i’ve written ig (?) lmk how i did and should i write a nsfw part 2 ? idk !! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

#ran #ran haitani #bonten #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #ran x y/n #ran x reader #skims #spoiled reader #passenger princess #rich ran haitani #anime #manga

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 1.1 - gimme danger

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (language, sexual content)

Word Count: 640

☾

There's nothing in my dreams Just some ugly memories Kiss me like the ocean breeze

Now, if you will be my lover I will shiver and sing But if you can't be my master I will do anything

☾

September 1983 - junior year

"Who does your tattoos, Edward Munson?"

The blunt voice behind him took him off guard, appearing out of nowhere. It didn't even sound like a question. More like a matter-of-fact demand. 

Your voice was thick and dripping like honey. Deeper than the voices of other girls in your school. Eddie was so used to the high-pitched, bubblegum-popping, giggling tones of the artificial female species that wandered the halls of Hawkins High.

The cafeteria around him was bustling with all the usual assholes, but suddenly all he could focus on was the figure of you standing behind him.

Finally turning around to lay eyes on the culprit, Eddie was shocked to see you.

He knew you, of course. Or at least knew of you. 

In the back of his mind, he tried to remember if he had ever even spoken to you before. But he would have remembered your unique voice. Eddie's whole life revolved around sounds, melodies, vibrations. 

You were a year younger than him, being a junior while he was a senior. He recalled seeing you in the crowded hallways. Plain hair. A face that said leave me the fuck alone. Weren’t you a part of the French Club or some shit?

His mind was racing, but still responded to you without any sign of hesitation. There were too many witnesses around for him to let his guard down. Bako and Donny, seated at the table with him, openly stared in awe.

Eddie found his vocal cords. "I do some of them. My uncle has a friend that does some of them."

Your disarming gaze bore into him, squinting for a moment. Eddie took a second to glance down at your clothes. Blue jeans. Gray fitted t-shirt. You were plain. No other word for it.

"How much for one?"

"What?"

"A tattoo. How much do you charge for a tattoo."

Again, you didn’t really ask it as a question. It was less of an innocent query and more of a personal space invasion, a solicitation. Your face gave away not a single emotion or even a hint of a personality.

Eddie scratched his head, acting like he was thinking deeply. He glanced at Donny, who looked at him like well, say something, idiot!

"Well, sunshine, that depends." 

That's all he could think of. Why were you suddenly speaking to him? You had successfully ignored each other for the last however many years.

Your shoulders dropped in annoyance, but you still held onto the lunch tray in your hands. 

"Okay, depends on what?"

A wicked grin painted his lips. At the motion of your shoulders falling, he could easily tell that you definitely weren’t wearing a bra. Your tits were smaller than average, basically nonexistent, but Eddie had x-ray vision at the short distance between you and him.

"Hmm… size, the design… location." Leaning over in the plastic chair, he purposely fixed his eyes on your ample behind.

You scoffed at him, "Cool, you're a real Don Juan. Let's get to the point, yeah? I want a quarter sized half moon on my hip. Just the outline, nothing fancy. Need more info?"

Taking his time to answer, mainly because he suddenly found himself entertained by your impatience, he shrugged. 

"Nah. I'll do it for fifteen bucks."

"Deal. How soon can you do it?"

You were all business and no play. Eddie was enticed by your no-bullshit confidence.

A shocking flash of pink passed behind you: a popular girl chatting excitedly with a football player. Neon pink windbreaker, bleach blonde hair in perfect curls. Eddie observed her.

And then he looked back at you. So ordinary yet so different.

"How does this weekend sound?"

You held your hand out in front of him to shake. Your skin was smooth and warm on his callouses.

"Don't fuck this up, Munson. I'll see you Friday."

☾

There's nothing left alive But a pair of glassy eyes Raise my feelings one more time

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Gimme Danger" by The Stooges)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

[onepiece-polls]

Ugly Outfits Tournament - Round 3 Side D

Propaganda under the cut.

Shupeal: This man has a plain pair of black shorts and that is the only normal thing about his entire fit.

Usopp:

I THINK there was a plot-relevant reason as to why he dressed like this but even if there was I don’t forgive him. I cant forgive him.

film z really decided to give usopp all the clown looks. seriously, usopp usually has pretty good fits, which makes this stand out as particularly atrocious. just look at it, it's so bad and it's so funny. the clashing neon colors, the blinding green jacket, the polka dot underwear, the fucking? mushroom?? hat?? it makes no sense and it's terrible and i honestly kinda love it.

Its so horrendous. I love that one of the first things you hear in this movie is that Brook is going to handle getting everyone's new clothes/disguises, and then you cut to Usopp wearing this. I need to know how much input Brook had in this outfit vs Usopp. They are both usually so fashionable on their own, but you see their powers combined and we get this mess.

Film Z’s outfits normally shred. Here, Usopp is sporting a highlighter green jacket and a crop top with a bow tie. Normally that’d be fine (sans jacket), but the ensemble was so pricy that Usopp couldn’t afford pants.

I don't even know what is going on here aside from Disaster Trainwreck

#one piece #Usopp #Shupeal #ugly outfits #tournament poll #round 3 #side d

[dragoncookies]

Sophie is Fitz's "lacy"

Think about it! As of late in the series Shannon brings to jarring light, in the cognate inquisition scene, the jealousy Fitz has of Sophie and how Fitz puts her on a pedestal. So, all at the same time, he views her as perfect, is jealous of her capabilities and has feelings for her. I can't help but hear that phenomenon when I listen to Lacy. The lyrics in Lacy are also just so juicy and fun to analyze.

Full lyrical analysis below the cut (it's a lot, but I love doing this sort of thing)

Lacy, oh lacy, skin like puff pastry.

Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?

Dear angel lacy, eyes wide as Daisy’s,

Did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?

(this is the longest paragraph, I promise)

The first lyrics here set up the whole song by characterizing the subject of the song. The emphasis on calling lacy “sweet” and an angel is the narrator criticizing this person for the fact that they can never seem to be wrong, and that they just seem like an angel who always has the best intentions. Of course, these lyrics are also just literally calling the person sweet and caring in nature (most of this song has lyrics that have double meanings, which is why this song fits Fitz’s feelings about Sophie as of the latest book so well imo). Sophie is a pretty sweet girl, but most importantly she calls all the shots and doesn’t get as much flack for what she does, whether it be a good call or not. For example, Sophie was BARELY held accountable for when she let Alvar go in Legacy (not hating on our favorite Sophie, but that was a horrible choice). In Marella’s short story, Marella is faced with a hard choice and so she thinks of what Sophie would do in her place. For Fitz, it seems to him that Sophie can just do whatever she wants and not get any criticism for what she does. Where HE wants to be perfect and always do what is right, he seems to only do what is wrong, and compared to how Sophie can only seem to do what is right it is probably frustrating for Fitz. Of course, none of this is Sophie’s fault. Fitz needs to learn find peace in himself and not to make Sophie something other than mortal (I would say human but they’re not actually human are they?). Fitz cannot do this at the moment, however, because he’s “not doing well” as is said by the song. He still never fully has gotten to process his feelings about Alvar, as for the ENTIRETY of Flashback he literally had to bottle all his emotions or he would die. That’s lowkey traumatizing. 

Fitz is just not doing his best, simply put. 

Ooh, I care, I care, I care.

Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time,

Watching, hidden in plain sight.

The emphasis on “I care” reveals that the narrator is pained by the degree to which they care. They don’t want to care as much as they do, but still they’re always watching and needing to know more about the “lacy” that they loathe. Fitz doesn’t want to let his jealousy affect his friendship and his feelings for Sophie as much as they do.

Ooh, I try, I try I try,

But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere,

the sweetest torture one could bear.

Fitz really does try. He’s always saying he’s working on himself, and he does. Yet, the progress isn’t instantaneous, and the rate at which Sophie’s success conflicts with his own is greater than the rate at which Fitz tries to manage his feelings. Fitz’s entire life is supposed to be about being the greatest and the most “perfect” elf there is, but when Sophie comes in and starts to fill in all those standards, it can’t help but conflict with Fitz’s pursuits in an ugly way. So the lyrics "it takes over my life" and "I see you everywhere" are pretty fitting. 

Yet, Fitz wants her. He wants to spend his life with her. Fitz admires her and can’t help but develop feelings for this pretty girl who was a breath of fresh air from his life of perfection (though distorted by the warped view elves have of romance because of the matchmaking system). So, torture though it is for Fitz to watch Sophie take his place as the greatest, it is sweetened by the fact that he’s watching someone he admires (matching the lyrics "the sweetest torture one could bear). 

Smart, sexy lacy, I’m loosin’ it lately

I feel your compliments like 

bullets on skin

Coming from someone above you, compliments can feel untrue, and when you’re jealous of that person who is above you, those compliments can just feel painful. 

Before Legacy, Fitz and Sophie were on the same page, and their relationship with each other was great, too great. Fitz also seemed be more useful in past books in the series, but as of late he hasn’t been very useful (as Rayni joked about in the beginning of Stellarlune. It was funny but also I felt bad for Fitz). 

Sophie starts to ghost Fitz during Legacy. Then when Fitz tries to find Alvar by searching through Cassius’s mind (bold, Fitz), Fitz finds out Cassius was playing him the whole time! Cassius was never really going to tell Fitz where Alvar was, but Cassius had no problem letting Sophie know. Sophie was just better than Fitz in that she could search Cassius’s mind and that she found Alvar. In a single day, Sophie did both of Fitz’s projects for him. Then Sophie reveals in book 10 that actually she has feelings for Keefe, so even romantically he isn’t good enough. Ouch. As of late, Fitz is loosing control of his perfect facade and of his ability to control his life, and so in turn he spirals inside and looses control of all the little things he used to be able to control about himself. 

Dazzling, starlet, Bardot reincarnate, 

Well aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?

While Sophie isn’t aspiring to be an actor, she is aspiring to be a “star” in the sense that she’s the symbol of change and she’s aspiring to be something great (referring to the lyric “starlet”). From the moment she entered the lost cities, Fitz's pride in life, everything he was made to be and told he had to become, starts to be fulfilled by this talented girl named Sophie. She begins to overshadow Fitz in a lot of ways during the series, like how she ends up in the nobility (Fitz's dream job) or ends up finding Alvar (something Fitz has been trying to do for months and months). So the judge-y tone in which Olivia sings “well aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?” are a pretty great way to represent the contempt Fitz likely seems to feel.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care

Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots

You got the one thing that I want

The simile of “like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots” describes a feeling emotional turbulence. Which, in relation to Fitz, is fitting since he likely feels strongly about his current relationship with Sophie. The beginning scene of Unlocked actually details it. When Keefe could feel Fitz’s emotions, Keefe said he felt, “Sadness. Nervousness. Regret. Loneliness. Plus a hefty dash of anger” (idk what page number). He really does like Sophie, their friendship is priceless. 

The lyrics “you got the one thing that I want” have a double meaning. On one hand, Sophie is the one he wants. She stole his heart (and now she broke it, oops). On the other hand, she has leadership, a position of power that makes Fitz secretly so jealous. All these conflicting feelings surely turn his stomach up in knots.

Ooh, I try, I try, I try

Try to rationalize, people are people

But it's like you're made of angel dust

These lyrics convey that the author struggles to view this person as a normal human being because they’ve idolized this person in their mind. 

What is also frustrating is trying to be rational about someone when you’ve idolized them. In the cognate inquisition it was revealed that Fitz viewed Sophie as this strong, fearless and perfect leader. Now that it's become a problem, he has to try to see her as a normal elf, full of flaws (just like everyone), but it's hard for him to let go of the expectation of perfection he’s lived under his whole life.

I’ve often wondered if that’s why he views Sophie the way he does. Maybe he’s just been projecting his own need to be perfect onto her, and has been falling for the Sophie in his mind that would please his Vacker family instead of the real Sophie. 

(bridge)

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

This doesn’t have to do with the lyrics above (it's just “oh” so not much to go off of), but the way Olivia sings this whole song is whispery and angelic, but strained, almost as if she’s fighting herself. She’s singing a song about an ugly flaw in a beautiful way, painfully unearthing the jealous side of admiring someone on top of condemning them for being seemingly perfect. Fitz himself is this image of perfection. He’s the epitome of elven culture. He’s a beautiful, ethereal elf, who has the most perfect life and does everything right. Yet, his flaws are such a stark contrast in comparison. The way Shannon has written him has a heavy emphasis on his struggle to work on his flaws. His whole character sort of symbolizes the elven world, in that it's so pretty and perfect on the outside but broken and hiding horrors inside. As the elven world crumbles throughout the series, so does he. 

An angelic song about one’s own flaws is very fitting for him, I'd say.

Lacy, oh lacy, 

it's like you’re out to get me. 

You poison every little thing that I do.

This last, whispered bit of the song reveals the true loathing. For every lyric before the this point, any feelings of true loathing were braided into comments of adoration. Here, however, it is confessed that the author is scared of the way this “lacy” threatens them. This “lacy” really effects them, she poisons the authors life. The speaker feels targeted by lacy’s success, like it's a personal attack, and to the author it is personal. This “lacy” makes the author feel smaller in comparison. It's a deeper, hidden self loathing. The author is jealous of lacy’s perfection because the author loathes themselves for not being perfect like lacy is. So everything the author does seems to be disgustingly unworthy compared to what lacy does. 

This is how Fitz feels about Sophie in a sense. Maybe not as strongly, but certainly Fitz’s subconscious desire and pressure to be perfect generates feelings inside him that parallel what Olivia Rodrigo describes here. 

Sophie is Fitz’s “lacy”. 

Lacy, oh lacy,

I just loathe you lately,

And i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you.

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.  

Fitz never used to feel this way about Sophie, at least not to the degree that he feels now. As things have shaken out, he’s been loathing her. 

This is something that likely frustrates him, because he likes Sophie. She’s his best friend besides Keefe (debatable). Nobody wants to be obsessively jealous over someone they love. Yet, this obsession with Sophie, the reasons that he is jealous of her, are also why he started to fall in love with her, and pretty hard. This is why the lyric “I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you” goes so hard (excuse my un-academic language). His mind is poisoned by the need for perfection that growing up as basically elven royalty, as a Vacker, conditioned him to. He has a spoiled mindset, he’s used to getting what he wants, and for things to go his way (relating to the lyrics "my rotten mind”). Maybe he just wants to get Sophie out of his head, maybe he just wants to stop feeling for her the way he does. 

Maybe he just wants Sophie to stop being the thorn in his heart that she has likely, unfortunately, become because of his "rotten mind". 

(none of this analysis is Sophie or Fitz hate. We love Sophie in the household, and we also love Fitz in this household)

#kotlc #fitz vacker #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fitz #kotlc stellarlune #keefe sencen #sophie foster #kotlc keefe #kotlc sophie #kotlc legacy #fitz is just one deep character man #you could analyze the daylights out of him #so many songs I headcannon as him #kotlc headcanon

[heartfullofleeches]

thinking of aquarius buying one of those cheesy cliche slutty magicians assistant outfits for their darling as an impulse purchase and then chickenjng out of asking darling to wear it for them so they’re just hanging on to it to fantasize 😭😭

"Good God... What on earth have I done?"

The horrified magician looks down at the costume in their hands like it's made of acid. The shame of the purchase goes to war with the sinful bliss of imagining you in the outfit; a vision they couldn't shake no matter how hard they tried.

It really had been a spur of the moment buy. A few drinks down after a particular special show, and they settled down to take part in one of their favorite pastimes which consisted of impulse buying you whatever caught their eye. The top button of your usual shirt had popped and while you had already replaced it, they couldn't let you walk around in subpar material like that.

And so Aquarius spent the night searching for your replacement. Only the finest for their assistant and they would make damn sure you got nothing less. They'd already purchased a couple outfits when their search lead them to a website full of scantily clad individuals and the aforementioned outfit. The search only showed the upper half of it, and while shirt was cut a bit lower than normal, they could see the high quality of it from the preview alone. Their surprise when they clicked on the full image was enough to wake you in the next room over.

Aquarius lays out the outfit to give it another look. They wipe the sweat from the rim of their hat as they take in every detail. Why did they do this? There was so much time to put a stop to it all. When it sat in the cart until the next morning. When they got the confirmation email. Oh- you'd certainly hate your perverse and filthy master had you ever figured out what they've done.

The costume was made up of a silk, button up sleeveless shirt that was notably more see through than the image had implied. A pair of plain black shorts and white stockings followed. The shorts stopped mid-thigh and the stockings began below their cut. A matching black coat and hat tied the piece together; a rose in the coats pocket and rabbit ears atop the hat's rim.

Their tongue runs over their dry lips as the intrusive thoughts rear their ugly head. Those stocking hugging your thighs... That tight shirt cupping your build. Absolute heaven.

"Cut it out, you dog!" Aquarius slaps at their cheeks. They pile up the pieces of the outfit and shove them back in the box, pushing the other packages out the way as they exit the room. They were headed straight outside to throw this thing in the trash and never look back. Reaching the door, a knock freezes them - voice chilling them to the bone.

"Aquarius, are you home? I've been trying to reach you all day. We need to go over our routine before tomorrow night's show."

#Aquarius my oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #Yandere magician #yandere writing #soft yandere

[polutrope]

For the holiday prompts:

26. Accidental drunkenness with Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin! Thank you, love your writing 🤍

Amazing prompt Anon, and thank you! This is also for @melestasflight who requested Caranthir with the same prompt and @grey-gazania who requested Caranthir + Ugly sweaters. 1.5k words, Rated T for a lot of swearing and drunkenness. These guys are awful. Posting these to AO3, here. Prompt list (prompts closed). Little context: Curufin owns a craft brewery and Celegorm works for him. Maglor's referenced boyfriend is Daeron. See Beleria Cast of Characters for the full scoop!

Curufin cleared their empty glasses and wiped a wet cloth over the bar. He didn’t usually like to drink at work, even after closing, but they’d tapped a keg of the new Red River Winter Ale to sample.

Curufin had been wound tight all month worrying that it wouldn’t be ready for bottling in time for Yule gifting — and it barely was. But it had turned out perfect: not too heavy, with a warm spice. He’d use the late release to his advantage, slapping plain handwritten labels on the bottles and marketing them to panicked shoppers as a limited release last-minute gift. They could sell the rest of the batch under a new label in the New Year.

That weight off his shoulders, combined with the loosening effect of the alcohol, had put Curufin in a light mood. But not so light that he fell for Celegorm’s suggestion to have another pint. It was a Tuesday, and while that might make no difference to Celegorm, he had to get Celebrimbor to school in the morning.

“How did you get here?” he asked Celegorm, who was mopping the floors.

“I rode the bike. Why? You need a ride?”

Curufin shrugged. He’d hoped his brother would say he’d taken the bus. He wouldn’t have minded the company on his commute tonight. A ride would be nice, in theory, but Curufin hated being crammed on the back of Celegorm’s motorcycle.; he hated being forced to cling to his brother like a limpet as Celegorm careened around the corners… but it was a cold, and late…

“I can take transit,” he said.

“Yeah, I know you can. But you just asked me how I got here, sooo.” Celegorm dropped the mop in the bucket and crossed the floor. “You’re obviously looking for a ride. I can drop you off, bro-nut, no worries.” His hand came down hard on Curufin’s shoulder and he jolted forward.

“I’m still your boss until your shift’s over, Tyelko,” Curufin grumbled. “So you can’t hit me.”

“Oh? I assumed my shift was over when we poured the brewskies.”

“It wasn’t,” said Curufin. He sighed, considering the pros and cons of accepting a ride—

—when the front door banged open.

Curufin shot daggers at Celegorm. “What the fuck, you didn’t lock the—! We’re closed!” he shouted at the intruder.

He was cut short by the entrance of a tall, black-haired man with an unmistakable red mark on his left cheek, currently dimpled by a broad grin. Caranthir gave a throaty laugh at the look of shock on his brother’s faces.

“Moryo!” Celegorm bounded across the room and smothered him in a hug. Curufin twitched sympathetically. “When the fuck did you get into town? Didn’t think you’d be here until the twenty-fourth. How you been? ”

Celegorm might as well have been Huan, yapping and bouncing around his brother as if they hadn’t just seen him two weeks ago.

“Never mind that,” said Curufin, “what the fuck are you wearing?”

He sneered, indicating the heinous sweater his brother had on: a chunky red knit that looked like someone’s first disastrous venture into a new hobby. Too short in the sleeves and too wide in the torso, with an awful depiction of a light-garlanded cat (orange, clashing terribly), snarling in what might have been intended as a smile but which looked like an oddly anthropomorphic grimace.

“Oh yeah,” Caranthir said, spreading his arms to display the garment. “It’s hideous isn’t it? It was free, though. Don’t get rich saying no to free shit, Curvo.”

Curufin rolled his eyes. “You’re absurd. So why are you here?”

“Got some freight I can’t take to the port until the morning so I’m here for the night. Then it’s back east and time to replenish my social arsenal before I hunker down in the trenches for the battle of Yuletide.”

By which he meant spending three full days with their family. Many (Fëanor chief among them) were baffled as to why Caranthir, who had been offered scholarships to pursue a PhD fully-funded by some of the best economics programs in Endor, had instead taken up a career as a long-haul trucker. Curufin wasn’t. It wasn’t about the job, which he hardly needed with his investments. It was about the solitude. Curufin could relate. Curufin resented him for it.

“Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?” Curufin asked.

“Hell no, and don’t you dare tell them. ’All’s they know I’m not here until the twenty-fourth like I said. Anyway stop being such a dick, Curvo — you should be honoured that I chose to spend this precious evening off with you.”

He, too, slammed his hand down on Curufin’s shoulder. Curufin withdrew behind the bar to shield himself from any further assaults.

“As if.” Curufin snorted. “You’re only here because Cáno wouldn’t let you stay with him. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.” Caranthir perched on a bar stool and grunted. “But fuck Cáno. He has a whole spare room now that he’s fucking his roommate, but do you think he lets anyone use it? Nope! He’s ashamed of us, you know. Doesn’t want his environmentally-challenged boyfriend knowing his brothers are capitalists.”

“I’m not a capitalist,” said Celegorm.

Curufin and Caranthir both looked at him incredulously, then silently agreed not to respond.

Caranthir slapped the bar counter. “What’s on tap, brewmaster!”

“Nothing, we’ve closed up. Tyelko and I were just about to leave. I have to get home, it’s late, and—”

“Nope,” said Caranthir.

“Nope what?”

“Nope, you’re not leaving.”

“Nope!” Celegorm seconded, and jumped onto a stool beside Caranthir. “Come on, Curvy Scurvy, pull out some glasses, just one more round.”

Curufin frowned. He worked hard not to let on, but he felt as much the baby around any of his older brothers as he had since he was— well, an actual baby. He’d been seven when Amrod and Amras were born: it was too late to rewire the psychological violence inflicted growing up with four (gifted, brash, adored) older siblings. And now Celegorm and Caranthir leered at him from across the bar with those taunting smiles, and his resolve buckled under the desire to please them.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” he said, pulling out two glasses.

“Nah nah nah nah.” Celegorm wagged a finger. “You’re having one, too.”

“No, I’m not,” said Curufin. “I have to wake up early to take Tyelpë—”

“Oh boo-hoo-da-loo,” said Caranthir. “I have to be at the port at six a.m. Drink, Curvo. It’ll be no fun if you’re just sitting there watching us.”

Curufin ground his teeth. “Fine. A small glass. And then I’m kicking you out of here.”

*

“… and then she says: ‘Yeah okay, thanks dude. You can leave now. I know how to replace a tire.’”

“What a bitch,” Celegorm slurred.

“What?” Caranthir said. “No, man, that’s hot as fuck.” He tipped back the last of his beer then reached across the bar and refilled it directly from the tap, sloshing more of it on the floor than into his glass.

“Yo, careful!” said Curufin, then laughed. He looked into his own glass, which was disappointingly still empty. Had he had a third? He didn’t think he’d had a third. No, he’d only had two. Or it might have been three. Well, he’d just have half to be safe. He dumped half of Caranthir’s pint into his.

“Hey!” Caranthir grabbed for the glass, but Curufin had already chugged most of it down.

“Sorry, gone,” he said, then gripped the edge of the bar as he felt himself swaying backwards.

“You know what’s funny,” Celegorm said, staring at the wall. “I have no idea why Aredhel is with me.”

“Oh god, please don’t be a sad drunk,” Curufin begged. He dropped down and rested his head on the bar. “I’m so tired,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “So fucking tired…”

“No, but really, you guys. I’m such a loser. Why would she be with me? You know, I almost told her I love her the other day. I mean, I’ve told her that when we were together before, but I haven’t said it again since we got back together and what not and— damn it fuck, you guys, I do love her.”

“So tell her,” Caranthir said, then barked a laugh. “Or at least don’t tell me— I don’t give a shit.”

“You think?” Celegorm asked earnestly. Curufin groaned. “Yeah, I should tell her. Why hide?”

Curufin’s eyes squinted open just long enough to catch Celegorm picking up his phone. He flung his arm across Caranthir to smack it from his hand. It crashed to the floor.

“Hey!” Celegorm yelled.

“Don’t tell her now you dumb bag of dick rockets!” Curufin shouted, and sputtered over his lacklustre name-calling efforts.

As he stumbled to retrieve his phone, Celegorm said, “Fuck you, you broke the screen.”

“It was already broken,” Curufin lied. He snuggled against the crook of his elbow and closed his eyes. “Guys,” he muttered, “how we gon’ get home? I’m so sleepy…”

“Agh, hold up.” Caranthir bumped Curufin’s shoulder as he reached for something. “I’ll call Nelyo to come get us.”

“Good idea…” Curufin said, "Nelyo'll fix it..." and fell asleep.

#anon #celegorm #curufin #caranthir #holiday prompts #modern au #beleria au #my fic

[soldateins]

"Don't Touch My Lute." - Jaskier x Female Reader

Pairing: Jaskier x female!reader Summary: Y/N has only been traveling with Geralt and Jaskier for a short while, but she and Jaskier have known one another since a few months before that. Being a bard herself, Y/N knows of Jaskier and just how utterly brilliant he is, she had even seen him perform a few times in Novigrad at the Chameleon - Though he had never seen her perform, only rumours. This knowledge causes her to feel anxious and refuse continuously when he asks her to play for them every few nights to truly hear her talent. What happens when one night, Jaskier leaves to wash up in the river, and Y/N decides to pick up his lute and sing but he returns before she finishes playing and hears her?

Notes:

A/N: I never write, I’ve written 2 fics total and I’m not amazing so.. Help is cool but don’t bash me plz, this ain’t my job and I only do it for plain old fun, cool? Hope you enjoy!! Ps I’m in love with both Jaskier and Geralt I need helppppp

“Would you both fancy making our way to an inn once we’ve washed up?”

Jaskier asked Geralt and Y/N as they walked along the dirt path in the direction of the nearest river. Geralt’s brows furrowed slightly as he directed Roach’s reins in the right direction, thinking. Y/N’s walk turned into a skip, a smile now plastered across her lips, “Uhh, yes, please! We’ve not eaten a proper supper in 3 days! I’ll even provide the coin!” Jaskier gasped, pressing his palm against his intricately detailed doublet, “No, no, my Lady Y/N - I shall pay!” He bowed. Geralt rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose, “Always the hero.” He murmured to himself as he watched the bard catch up to the skipping woman.

They found a clearing where they began to set down all of their belongings. Jaskier and Geralt each sat on their own bedrolls whilst Y/N placed herself on the floor, leaning against a rock. After a while of watching the bard write poems in his notebook, she tilted her head and softly inquired, “Might I play your lute, Jaskier? I’ve not touched one in almost two months, I left mine in Novigrad..” Her eyes glistened in the evening glow and she crossed her legs. Jaskier hummed for a long time, looking into her blue eyes, before settling on, “Yes, as long as you sing to us.” His pink lips dipped into a smirk and he shot a quick look towards Geralt to gauge his reaction. Despite not looking up, his eyes and eyebrows gave away that he was interested. Y/N’s nose wrinkled up, “No, thank you.” Geralt’s left eyebrow rose and he looked up from writing an entry about Forktails into his bestiary, “You sing?” Y/N took a deep breath and shifted from side to side. Jaskier rose from his bedroll, slapped his thighs, bent forward slightly and raised his eyebrows at Y/N, “Yes, she does - However, I have not yet heard her despite being told brilliant things of the Angelic Y/N of Novigrad!”

“You’ve seen me perform before!” Y/N huffed, folding her arms and leaning back against the rock. Jaskier’s face contorted in amusement and his voice came out somewhat petty, “Through a window. I couldn’t hear you.” Y/N grumbled, “Bet you could.” Jaskier picked up his lute and held it out right in front of Y/N’s face, the shiny wood almost tapping the tip of her nose, “Come on, just once!” “No!” Y/N spat, “Why?”, Jaskier put the lute back, the vibration of its strings due to impact causing an ugly chord. “Can you not just go and wash up now, Jaskier?! I’ve no need to give you a reason!” Y/N raised her voice slightly, her heart slowly making its way into her throat. Jaskier pursed his lips, thinking of how to respond, lifted his finger into the air, gritted his teeth, dropped his arm, and turned back to his belongings with an exasperated sigh.

Y/N pulled an apple from her knapsack, taking a big bite. Jaskier began unpacking his linen towel along with a wooden hairbrush and some other things, “Right, I’m having a wash in the river, no touching my lute, Y/N. Not unless you want to initiate an impromptu performance?” His icy blue eyes narrowed and he flashed a toothy smile, targeting Y/N’s and her chewing slowed. She sighed and spoke with a full mouth, spitting slightly at Jaskier, “No, bard.” Jaskier’s eyes widened in disgust, “That makes one of us. Someone’s touchy tonight..” He spoke in a hushed tone as he walked off towards the river. Geralt smirked but kept quiet, enjoying the dynamic between the two.

Geralt sat silently with his right leg bent at the knee and his arm resting on it, sketching. Y/N shook her head, groaned, got up and made her way over to Geralt, sitting down next to him to watch him fill his bestiary in peace as they did most nights, “What is that thing? Ff-fog-let? Wh- what’s one of those?” She leaned over his left side to get a better look at his sketch, brushing shoulders. Usually, Geralt would slowly lean away, but he liked Y/N. Maybe even had a soft spot for her. They’d gotten as close as a lady bard and witcher could have after only knowing one another for eight months - and Jaskier wasn’t much of a fan of that at the moment. “Why don’t you want to sing if you’re known for performing so well?” He frowned, tilting his head to look her in the eye, “Because Geralt, have you heard Jaskier sing? I don’t want to sing to him. He’s too good, I’m just okay.” She spoke with a slight angry heat, perhaps towards herself, blinking a few times, and diverting her eyes away from Geralt’s piercing ones by looking elsewhere on his face, taking in his strong features, especially when he is pulling a face such as that, “Yet you always jest about your brilliant skill?” “Yes but.. That’s just for fun, I’d die if Jaskier heard me. He’d..” She paused, debating whether to continue, flickering her gaze up to Geralt’s, “He’d?” Geralt asked, raising his brows, “He’d.. He’d hate it, he’d go off me. I’d rather let him hear the reviews and not dare let him hear it himself. He’s legendary, I can’t compare myself to him! He’d laugh and I’d be broken. Or he’d lie and say I was good to please me. Especially now.” Geralt hummed, leaning back a bit. Something had begun that nobody could stop. Y/N had fallen for Jaskier. Geralt decided that the best option for this moment was to leave. He arose, unpacking his towel, gave Y/N an unsure but calm expression, and left for the river.

Y/N was left ruminating in her own self-loathing and confusion. She got up, set her bedroll onto the floor and lay down, away from Jaskier’s, nearest to Roach as she enjoyed her company. “Oh, fuck it.” She quickly got up, snatched Jaskier’s lute from his belongings, positioning herself on her bedroll, cross-legged, facing out into the forest. She started to play, first quietly, and once she knew she wasn’t heard, a bit louder. A few minutes later, as Jaskier and Geralt made their way back from the river, they started to hear music, “What- What is that? Geralt?” Jaskier spun around a few times as he tried to discern where it was coming from. Geralt’s lower eyelids rose in amusement. Jaskier took in an overly dramatic breath, “She. Took. My LUTE!” He spat possessively and began to take off before Geralt lunged forward, wrapping his big hand around Jaskier’s left arm and yanking him backward, earning a squeak from the bard, “Jaskier.” He growled, “What? It’s mine! She wouldn’t play anyw-!”

“Listen.”

They became quiet, inching closer to the sound until they could finally hear clearly. After a few moments, Jaskier’s mouth opened in awe. They made their way closer to the clearing to listen. Geralt watched Jaskier, he was leaning his head and hand against a tree, patiently listening, with the most genuine loving expression he had seen on the bard yet.

“She’s ethereal, isn’t she? I knew she was good.” Jaskier’s mouth was hardly moving as he whispered, trying to make as little sound as possible so that he could listen, “Why would she keep such beauty from me?” “She’s scared.” Geralt said under his breath, “She’s.. She’s what? She’s scared?” Jaskier’s brows furrowed in confusion, “She doesn’t want to perform in front of you because she doesn’t believe that she’s good enough. She said you’d laugh.” Geralt shrugged and shook his head, “I can’t believe it.” Jaskier’s eyes were staring at the forest floor, melancholic but still heavy with emotion. Y/N smiled, gently setting the lute down, “Is that where he left it, Roach? I think that’s where he left it. I hope so. I don’t want to be singing to him any time soon.”

Jaskier crept his way out from within the trees, “You just did.” He gave a friendly smile and a pathetically nervous wave of his hand. Y/N sucked in a big breath, “Jaskier..?” Her eyes were wide and piercing as if she were a child being caught carving into the house walls by her parent, “I listened, Lady Y/N. You have a beautiful voice.” Jaskier swallowed anxiously, approaching as if she were a wild rabbit about to flee, which she was, “No. You don’t mean that.” Y/N got up, retrieving her towel from her bag, clutching it to her chest, trying to steady her breath, “I’m sorry for using your lute, Jask. I- I just wanted to play, I’ve missed it.” Geralt made his way out from within the trees, “Calm down, Y/N.” His voice was soft yet stern, “I can’t, Geralt. Sorry, Jaskier..” “Please, don’t apologise, that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard!” Jaskier’s voice got louder the further away Y/N got as she panicked and ran to the river, Jaskier’s eyes followed her then made their way to Geralt, brows furrowing heavily, “Are you going to tell me what just bloody happened? I was being nice! To a bard! And I meant it!” He raised his shoulders and eyebrows in sync. Geralt's eyelids lowered, his face muscles relaxing, “Surprising.” Geralt sat back down on his bedroll, folding his arms and looking at the stars. However, when he glanced over, Jaskier was looking at him expectantly, “What?” Geralt asked lazily, “What do you mean ‘what’? Tell me what’s wrong with Y/N?”

“Fine.”

Y/N exhaled heavily as she entered the water to bathe. The cool water helping her anxious feelings towards Jaskier, “Gods, I shouldn’t have touched his lute at all. Fuck. What if his feelings change?” She sat, speaking to the trees, a light breeze falling over her frame along with the moonlight, and the hairs on her skin pricking upwards. After what seemed like an hour, she plucked up the courage to get dry and dressed and return to their miniature camp. Entering the clearing with a big breath, the first thing she laid her now tired eyes upon was Geralt meditating. She smiled, wishing she had the mental power to sit in silence for that long. Looking to the right she saw Jaskier.. Fast asleep. Snoring. Incredibly loudly. Her chest felt heavy and loving as she stood watching him sleep. Turning towards her own bedroll, suddenly feeling tired, she took in a soft gasp. Jaskier’s lute was resting on her pillow with a handwritten note with many words scribbled onto it but the ones most notable were “I did mean it. You can play my lute anytime, beautiful lady Y/N.” Y/N sighed, smiled widely and that night, slept with Jaskier’s lute by her side.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #writing #jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier x female reader #the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt of rivia #witcher #julian alfred pankratz #soldateins #my writing

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Hey! I was just wondering if you could do reader breaking their ankle at Volleyball practice with the Msby four?? You don't have to!! Just a random thing bc I broke my ankle doing a set wrong lol. Love ur Blog!!

-👹

I will be referring to you as Demon Senpai, because of the emoji you used and i adore Yaku.

I didn’t know if you wanted platonic, or something like my WWE fic, but I did this and I hope it’s okay, but I can do another one too.

The sickening crack echoed through the gym, most of the other MSBY players having cleared out by now. Sakusa’s head snapped over from where he stood at the bleachers chugging his water bottle down, praying to every god he’d ever heard of that it was Atsumu.

But the lack of whining replaced by a string of apologies being shouted in the familiar accent, followed by the two most hyper players screaming like someone had been murdered, told him what he already knew in his chest. His feet thudded the floor as he sprinted back to where you were curled up on yourself, clutching your calf in your hands as you looked horrified at your own ankle. He shoved Atsumu out of the way when the setter seemed determined to figure out the issue himself, Sakusa knelt at your side, “Y/N,” your eyes shot over to his, trying and failing to stifle the tears that built up, “I’m going to pick you up, okay, love? I need to carry you to the medic.” The pain you were in kept either of you from registering the pet name.

“No, Kiyoomi, I’m all sweaty. You just showered, you’ll hate getting sweat all over you again.” His heart clenched. He could see how much pain you were in, your ankle already swelling and turning an ugly purple color, but you were worried about his discomfort. It was why he loved you.

Without a word, he shifted his arms under your knees and around your torso, hoisting you into his chest, “Don’t worry about me, idiot. Let’s get you to a doctor.”

Atsumu felt like absolute garbage, ending his extra practice as soon as you’d gotten hurt. You were his friend, and he knew Sakusa- he shuddered. He didn’t want to think about whatever Sakusa was going to do to him in retaliation for hurting his “not-a-crush-because-I’m-an-adult” crush. The faux blonde paled when Hinata ran back in the room, announcing that your ankle was casted. He was debating on hiding when Bokuto followed Hinata into the gym, telling him that Sakusa was helping you back.

The gym was absolute chaos when you entered, arm hooked around Sakusa’s shoulders at his insistence when he realized you were determined to hop on one foot to get your stuff. Not because he wanted you to hold onto him, no you shook that thought from your head right away, no sense in getting your hopes up.

Sakusa helped you onto the bench, making you promise to stay put as he moved to the locker room to collect your gym bag. Atsumu almost felt like he could die on the spot when Sakusa glared at him as he passed- the blonde was pretty sure the spiker was who people had in mind when they said ‘if looks could kill’.

You barely had time to register there was someone in front of you before Bokuto and Hinata were jumping around, careful in a way they usually weren’t so they didn’t jostle your leg, “Guys, guys, I’m okay. Really. Just a minor break. I’ll be back on the court before you know it.”

“You absolutely will not.” You looked up at Sakusa’s glare, cringing a little to yourself. “The doctor told you at least three weeks with the cast, and another three of working the ankle before you set foot on the court again.”

You pouted, looking down at the mentioned cast and missing the way his eyes softened with sympathy and worry, “Can you guys at least sign this stupid thing? I hate it already. Looks so plain.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes, “Fine.” He stepped over to his own bag, pulling out a marker and handing it to Hinata first, who wrote his name larger than nicer with a doodle of a sun, and then Bokuto who drew an owl instead of writing his name at all. Sakusa signed next, writing a short message in his neat scrawl, ‘Just remember to smile.’ before signing his name.

“Atsumu!” You called to the blonde that hadn’t stepped foot near you since you got back, “Aren’t you going to sign it?” Sakusa made a noise of protest, not only because it was Atsumu’s need for extra practice that got you hurt, but because he hated witnessing how close the two of you were sometimes. The setter made his way over in a silence that wasn’t familiar with him, glancing at Sakusa after reading his message, before grabbing the marker with a smirk.

You felt your skin blaze when you saw what he’d written. ‘Just ask him out already’ with an arrow pointing to Sakusa’s name. You glared at your best friend, “You asshole. You said you wouldn’t say anything.”

“And I didn’t. Not a word left ma lips.”

“Say anything about what?” You closed your eyes, not wanting to face Sakusa and the rejection and loss of friendship you expected to follow.

“Ya can’t be that dumb with how much ya yell at me fer bein’ stupid, Omi-Omi. Y/N likes ya.” The setter smirked at you, “There, now I said something.”

You lunged at him, almost toppling to the floor when you only had one leg of support. The only thing that stopped you was the spiker’s hands catching your waist. “Do you?”

Unable to look him in the eye, you nodded, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t see it, but Sakusa rolled his eyes with a fond smile hidden behind his mask, “The only thing you should be sorry for is worrying me, idiot.” He helped you position your crutches as you stared at him dumbfounded, grabbing your bag with his and gesturing you toward the door.

“Where are we going?”

He glanced at you as the other players watched in shock, “Getting take out, then heading to my place for a movie. Ordinarily I’d take you out for our first date, but we’ll save that for after you heal.” You felt like your heart was going to explode when he winked, scrambling to catch up on your crutches.

Masterlist

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x male reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader

[cowboyjen68]

howdy jen!

I’m a younger butch, 22, and i only recently came into this label in the past year or so. i cut my hair and started embracing myself and am so much better for it, but it’s also brought a lot of struggle. primarily, i have a really hard time feeling desirable. i don’t know if it’s something to do with where i am or just my age, but i feel like it’s so much harder to meet people who are into people who look like me. it’s hard to look visibly queer, and it’s hard to be masculine. a lot of the time i feel pride in my roll as a protector and safe person, but it becomes so exhausting when i never feel safe myself. when i never feel desirable. i wonder if this is a common thing amongst butches, and if so, how do i get past it?

You could be me talking when I was 23 and just coming out. My first thought, once I really realized that I was a bit different from many of my female friends, was “What lesbian is going to be attracted to me? Lesbians like other women and I kind of look like a boy”. I truly thought that my stature, the way I walked, whatever energy or movement got me consistently mistaken for a boy (or man) was the very reason why I would never find love or passion with whom I most desired, another woman. 

In college I toned it down, I kept my hair long with a sort of short in the front mullet. I wore generic jeans and a sweatshirt to try to be somewhat comfortable but also unremarkable in my clothing choices. Looking back it made no difference. I was clockable as a lesbian, and butch, long before I fully admitted who I was to myself. 

I felt unattractive. I refused makeup and more feminine clothing and convinced myself it was because I was a “feminist” or didn’t want to invite the gaze of men because I wanted to focus on college and not date. I just knew I would be alone forever (which sounded better than being with a man in any case) and no woman would look at me as anything more than a goofy friend. 

Years later, after talking to my old friends and nights chatting with my older lesbian friends in my early 20’s I realized we all shared very similar experiences. Very few women think of themselves as desirable to others. It was the rare one, usually traditionally attractive and outgoing, who had some idea that she was interesting to the opposite sex even if she had no desire for that. Most of us had this idea that we were just plain, or ugly or just not attractive, especially to the demographic we most wanted to desire us as a romantic partner. 

The fact is, many women have a similar feeling to what you are going through regardless of her sexual orientation. 

On to the good news. The greater Western culture tends to portray butches in the media either ugly and rude or stoic or as some perfectly physically fit woman who wears a sports bra to show off her muscles and is brimming with a snarky confidence. That is show biz and not real life. 

I hear young butch4butches and young femmes and garden variety lesbians lament all the time that they can’t find butches today. “Where have all butches that love being butches gone?”  they ponder. So as a butch there are plenty of women out there seeking you and wanting to see and meet you. 

We are quite visible and it is hard to hide our lesbianism when we are in public. And most of us don’t want to. We want to be comfortable as ourselves so we put on a stiff upper lip and go into the world looking as confident and sometimes as tough looking as we can muster. Once you meet the right friends and date a woman with whom you connect you will find a feeling of safety if you let it. Allow your friends to carry some of the burden. Listen to them when they say they have your back. Let the woman you are dating stand up for you and talk about how wonderful you are. 

Take a look at my tiktoks or posts here on tumblr and you will see that butches are loved and appreciated but a vast majority of the LGBT Community. 

Wear what makes you feel confident. Get out to events at the gay bar, concerts, even non profit fundraising events. Take the time to go to places that require you to dress up and put some effort into picking an outfit that suits you. Looking good can truly lead you to feeling good. You can boost your own confidence by getting a good haircut that you love, shining your boots and putting on some light cologne. The best way to get past the feeling of being inadequate as a dating partner is to get out and meet more women to befriend.  The more women you meet the more you can see you are not alone 

As you meet more people,  and form more community connections, you become more comfortable as yourself and you feel much less endangered in public. You learn that much or your fear is thinking others are watching you when in reality most people are just trying to get through their day. This is not to say it is not important to read your surroundings, it certainly is, but you will feel much more at ease if you feel confident in yourself.

#butch #lesbian #confidence #dating #love

[juvellianovo]

Hello! Can I request a (if u haven't done this already) gen z! Mc with the obey me cast?? Like they always insult ppl in the weirdest way?

For example; "you look like you drink ur own pee every night, or "I hope u stub ur toe in the middle of the night while ur trying to go to sleep, and fall onto your mattress only to discover that both sides of ur pillows are warm" (sorry if the last insult is a lil too extreme)

☆Have a good night/day!☆

Had to squeeze my brain so I think this will be pretty short. Masterlist

Lucifer

Mental facepalm

Flabbergasted

Why? What? how? Help

Have mercy on this poor old old man please

Has tried to stop you from using such insults

At first was amused but later your insults towards other students only resulted as an extra headache for him

Has hung you upside down the ceiling many times

Gave up on you half way

Mammon

Wha-!

Wait..! That's my human!

Honestly you're like a dog to him whom Mammon encourages to fight other dogs

That's it

Is used to your personality in a day

Leviathan

Ofcourse you would say that to an ugly gross worthless otaku like him.

Shocked

But honestly after staying with you Levi started getting creative for comebacks at you

You only insult when you two have competitions in games

Always records or does live when you get onto a fight with others

Satan

Genuinely amused at your...ummm...uhhhh... vulgarness?

We all know Satan HAS some books HE wrote.

He probably writes your insults in one of his characters dialogues.

Otherwise does not care

Might learn something from you to use against lucifer later.

Asmodeus

At first thinks you're just plain gross

Be careful with your insults or you might just end up flirting with him

Insult him EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

"But pls darling pls just BE NORMAL"-scaredAsmo

Beelzebub

Lets get this straight this GUY LOVES YOU FOR WHOEVER YOU ARE

Thinks your weird but he doesn't mind it.

You're nice

You both eat and you're good

Belphie

This bitch

HAS THE AUDACITY TO ACTUALLY COME BACK AT YOU

but he ain't as good as you ;)

You're fighting with a student he is cheering you up in his sleep

Also another one to memorize your insults to use against lucifer

Bonus fact- None them really cares except lucifer. And lucifers on the verge of dying from the inside.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we sate #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #satan #leviathan #obey me levithan #levi #lucifer #mammon #obey me asmo #asmo #om!asmo #om!lucifer #om!mammon #om!levi #obey me satan #om! satan #om!mc #om!beel #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub #belphegor #🖤🖤🖤juve

[enchantinglyjade]

Milk & Honey - Ch. 20

Austin!Elvis x Black!OC

Masterlist

Previous | Next

Summary: Elvis brings Charles and Honey to California

Warning: Swearing

Note: This chapters kinda short, but the next one’s gonna be long to make up for it.

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Charles was ecstatic to find out his dad was Elvis Presley. He was even more excited to find out that his dad, Elvis Presley, as he loved to re announce every chance he got, was taking us to California. I, on the other hand, was in terror every step of the way. In all my 30 years of life, I have never once left the South and I sure as hell wasn’t in the mindset to leave my comfort zone now. This is not at all how I expected this to go, but I suppose it could have gone much worse and I should just be happy with the way things turned out. Now all I have to do is get the boy to speak to his father.

“The private jet landed ‘bout an hour ago. Should be all filled and ready, waitin for us.” 

I look up from my spot against the car window, pausing my watching as the city rapidly transforms into a giant field of aircrafts. “Private jet? Elvis I told you I weren’t never gettin on no damn plane.” I exclaim.

He laughs from his seat across from me, adjusting his bottom against the leather. “What’d you think we were drivin all the way to Los Angeles?” I cross my arms, sneering at his remark.

The escort drives us through the airport until parking in front of a brown jet. Elvis opens the door helping Charles out. Once he’s standing outside, Elvis reaches back and takes my hand. When I rise to my feet, he pulls me close, whispering into my ear, “Promised I’d bring you flyin one day.”

My heart flutters as he guides me up the stairs and into the plane. I nervously step up them, already missing the feeling of the Earth under my feet. “Don’t worry. I gotchu,” His hands grip my waist from behind, holding me in case I fall. My breath hitches as I turn around to look at him, instinctively placing my hands on top his. He smiles up at me with that same soft and devoted look on his face when he first made this promise to me on top of the ferris wheel. The next few days are going to be absolute torture for my broken heart.

The inside of the plane is lined with wood and red velvet. Charles plops on one of the seats, waiting for me to sit next to him. Elvis speaks to the pilot for a moment, before sitting down across from us.

As the plane takes off, I try talking with Charles to distract myself.

“You excited?” I ask him, fanning my fingers nervously across the velvet of the seats.

He nods enthusiastically, still shy. I bite my lip, looking to Elvis, hoping he may come up with a good ice breaker. Surprisingly, Charles is the one that speaks up first.

“Mama always told me my daddy was gonna be in the Army for a long time. She never told me you were a superstar.” He plays with his seatbelt buckle, not looking at his father just yet.

Elvis shakes his head. “Oh, I ain’t no superstar. But I was in the Army for a while.” Charles stays quiet again. Elvis clears his throat. “So, your mama tells me you really like TV. What kinda shows you watchin?”

Charles springs up at the question, looking excitedly at me as if to ask for permission before speaking to him. I nod with a laugh.

“Well, I watch a lot of things. I’m looking to get into movies one day! You know, like The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.” He says shooting finger guns off his imaginary belt, shyness already long forgotten.

Elvis’ eyes widen. “You wanna be an actor?” He ponders with a scheming smile.

Oh no. Wait. “Hold on, when have you ever watched The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly?” 

Charles puts his hand up towards me. “Mama, please. We’re talkin business.”

This child. 

Elvis just watches with intense amusement as his son speaks, in a trance of absolute adoration at every word and gesture. Our son is quite the character indeed.

“I always knew you were my dad.” Charles states plain and simple.

Elvis raises an eyebrow at me, before looking back at Charles. “Really, now? Why’s that?”

He holds two fingers up to his lips, pretending to puff off of a cigarette like he’s seen in, apparently, all the movies he’s been watching. “Sometimes, you just know stuff.” He says deviously, earning a wide smile from his father. Then he drops his dramatic act to point at me. “And cause everytime G.I. Blues comes on Mama’s always bug eyed watchin you.”

Elvis takes one look at my embarrassed face before bursting out into laughter. 

“Okay, he gets it.” I say to Charles. Man, does this little boy keep me humble.

Elvis comes down from his fit of laughter. “You know, we got a TV in that wall over there if you wanted to watch somethin. Be a while til we get to LA.” He points to the couch on the other half of the plane, a small TV set up in the cabinet. Charles throws off his seatbelt, jumping from his seat to race over.

Elvis chuckles, sitting back in his seat, before turning back to me with a smirk. Oh, how I’d like to smack that thing right off his dumb face right now. “Been watchin my movies, huh?”

UGH.

I hum sarcastically. “What? You want me to gush over how great of an actor you are or somethin?”

He grins. “No need. ‘Parently you been doin enough of that, wouldn’t wanna tire ya out.”

I sit angrily with my arms crossed while he laughs. 3 more hours of this.

I take a sharp breath in. “So, have you told Marcella.” I say trying to change the subject.

He looks at me through his lashes, before occupying his gaze with something on his shoe. “Som’in like that.” He mumbles.

I drop my arms frustratedly into my lap. “Something like that? Elvis, what are you gonna do when we get off this plane and your wife sees you with another woman and a child?”

He continues looking at his show, shrugging my words off. “She ain’t gonna see nothin just yet. I’ll talk to her tonight and you two can meet tomorrow. ‘Til then, I set you up at a nearby hotel.

I sit back with a sneer, arms still folded. Oh, I knew this was gonna be a bad idea. So happy about the idea of Charles finally having a daddy that I completely forgot that it’d put us on the backburner of all the other shit in his life. This was just another reason why I wanted to keep it a secret. I don’t need Charles to have to go through what I did.

The three hours finally went by. I let Elvis and Charles talk and get to know each other most of the time, but I still felt unsure about the whole situation. There was no way in hell things would turn out okay. I should have just stayed home. This is gonna be a disaster.

When the plane lands, Elvis is first to step out. I stay back trying to pry my child from his movie, who swears there's only 5 minutes left of the film.

“Hey! How’s it goin guys?” Elvis’ voice calls from outside.

“Hey, E.P. We got your call. What’s up? What’d you want us to see?”

I huff, finally getting Charles up. He dashes past me, running out of the plane. 

“Careful Charles! You’re gonna trip on the steps!” I yell. With a groan, I grab my purse and step out of the aircraft, shielding my eyes from the blinding California sun.

Charles is over by his dad, showing the group of men surrounding them some of his moves or something. They laugh at his wildness, but upon seeing me they go quiet, smiles dropping and eyes widening. I fix my dress awkwardly, avoiding making eye contact with any of them. I make my way over, trying so very hard to not let their staring make me so nervous I trip in front of all of them.

Elvis reaches his arm out for me to take. “Guys, this is Bumble.”

“Honey. My name is Honey.” I interrupt.

He chuckles, before pointing out each of his friends. “This is Sonny, Red, Jerry, Lamar, and you ‘member Billy.”

I shake everyone’s hand as he introduces them, except Billy’s, who instead greets me with open arms.

I giggle, embracing him. “How you been, Billy?”

“Oh, just fine now. How’s Pearl?”

I laugh, taken aback by the question. “Married.” I pull away.

“You two know each other?” Sonny asks.

Billy nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Honey’s been a long time family friend!”

“He threw a football at my head once then tried to date my sister.” I say, arms crossed.

Elvis laughs at the memory. “She threw that football right back at him too. Hit him right ‘tween the eyes!” The rest of the men laugh as Billy smiles, embarrassingly putting his hands in his pocket and his head down. 

Elvis places a hand on my lower back. “Alright, we gotta drop you off at the hotel. Let’s head out.” He says, giving me a gentle push to start walking towards the car. The boys rush to their spots, starting the cars, then waiting for us. He opens the door for me, sitting across from Charles and I again. I had never been in such fancy vehicles in my life, now I’m getting chauffeured around, and riding in private jets. Life is so crazy. I can’t even wrap my head around this day. Everything’s happening so fast.

“Mama! I can see the Hollywood sign! Look!”

“Wow.” I say in awe, staring out the window with him.

“I got a TV special in the morning. I want you to be there.” Elvis states.

I tilt my head away from the window. “Um, okay?”

He chuckles. “It’s ‘posed to help me get back to myself. Be nice to have somethin from home there.” He shyly adds, looking down at his lap.

Aw. That’s so sweet. A soft smile pulls at my lips. Ugh, why is he making me feel things I’ve been trying to forget? He’s married, I’ve moved on, I’m here for Charles. Just gotta keep reminding myself that.

He helps me bring my things into the hotel room, or more, has his entourage do it for him, but he stays to make sure everything’s in check. It’s a beautiful luxury hotel with a nice view of the city and its scattering of tall palm trees right out the window. Charles immediately switches on the TV, then flops down on the giant, fluffy bed and proceeds to ignore us.

Elvis and I laugh. “Well, guess you’re all settled in.” He pushes himself off his spot against the wall.

“Yeah, think we got everything.” I lollygag over to the door behind him, too awkward to speak, but kinda not wanting him to leave either. We stand in the doorway looking at each other, Charles cartoons playing in the background. He props his elbow against the door frame. He towers over me, those blue eyes dancing across my face searching for the right words to say. 

Every time he comes near me my heart can’t help but beat faster. He was right, things just felt like home between us. I felt like I belonged closer to him, like I was made to be wrapped in his arms, but alas, that ring kept us separated.

I rest my head against the door, looking down with a discouraged head shake. “Elvis, what am I doing here?” I ask wearily.

His brows furrow softly, still in a daze while looking at me. “Making sure I can keep an eye on you.”

I sigh. “And then what? I have to go home eventually.”

He pushes off the door frame. “Ain’t nothin you gotta worry about. Let me handle everything.” He reaches his hand out, ratting out my curls like he used to when we were young. “See you in the morning, Bumble Bee.” He chuckles, sending me one of his big, goofy grins as he steps down the hallway, continuing to watch me until the very last crack through the elevator doors until he’s gone.

With a sigh, I go back into the room, shutting the door behind me and groaning against it while I rest my head upon it. God, why does he have to be so cute!? I wish I would’ve just stayed home.

“Mama, are you done crying? I can’t hear Batman.”

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.

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- Taglist -

@tearupmyhead @chouetteschaussettes @il-giardino @theliterarybeldam @re3kin @anangelwhodidntfall @felicityroth @crash-and-cure @mama-pankow @tzillas @wonderlandlovelove @mirandastuckinthe80s @queenslandlover-93 @coconutessential @pumkiinpasties @buckybarnesbitch00000000 @biafbunny @darkestbeforethedawn16 @dollfaceyourfear @adoreyouusugar @hails-schae @spacegh0ul @im-lame-irl @sargspiderbarnes @whisperily @whatawildone @lukasdreamland @carioquisse @kaitaesupremacy @thella

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #Austin butler!elvis #austin butler x black reader #elvis presley #Elvis #Elvis Movie #Elvis biopic #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis presely imagine #elvis presley x black reader #Black Writers #black reader #black fanfiction #elvis x black reader #OC #POC #oc fanfiction #poc reader #austin butler x oc #enchantinglyjade #Milk & Honey