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pickingupmymercedes · 9 days

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A thousand times over - Lewis Hamilton

request: Hii! Omg, I just saw a comment on instagram that was so cute it made me think a Lewis fic would be so much cuter. You're my favourite writer for F1 so I know you'd eat this up. So a guy commented that when his wife takes off her wedding rings for baking/gardening/painting/etc and he finds them, he waits til she's done then gives them back to her by proposing to her again. - @happy-golden-hour

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: pure fluff

wordcount: +1K

a/n: The three times Lewis reasks y/n to marry him, and the one time the roles are reversed.

a/n.2: Thank you for the idea bestie, took me a while but I couldn't decide on a single scenario, so there's 3 and a surprise one. Hope you like it ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The Gardening Proposal

The morning sun made the garden golden, its rays filtering through the leaves and casting long shadows from the pine trees across the lush grass. Even though it wasn’t even 8 am yet, you were already lost in the peaceful new flower bed you had been working on for the past week. The air was crisp and fresh, a bit of fog still lurking deep in the woods that surrounded your country home, adding to the serene atmosphere.

Lewis looked over from the porch at the scene, his ever-attentive eyes lost in thought as he admired you. His fingers played with the golden band of your wedding ring he had found on the kitchen counter just minutes ago. The soft glint of the ring caught his eye, reminding him of the love and commitment you shared.

Before you could even feel his presence, he cleared his throat to catch your attention. Your vision as you turned was him, in only his basketball shorts, kneeled in the grass by the flower bed. In his hand was the band you had left in the kitchen the previous day, placed carefully so it wouldn’t get amidst the dirt.

"Love, would you marry me, again?" Lewis said softly, holding out the ring between his fingers, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. His voice was gentle, carrying a hint of playfulness that always had you melting.

Surprised but delighted by his heartfelt gesture, you accepted the ring, feeling its familiar weight as he slid it back onto your finger. The metal felt cool against your skin, a tangible reminder of the bond you shared. "Thank you," you whispered, your heart swelling with love and gratitude.

Lewis chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at you. "Well, is that a yes?" he began, his voice filled with warmth and humor. His playful tone made you laugh, easing any lingering nerves.

Tears of happiness welled in your eyes as you nodded, your voice filled with emotion. "Yes, a thousand times over" you replied, sealing your promise with a passionate kiss. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air around you, a perfect moment in your blossoming garden.

The Workout Proposal

The early night lights danced around in your bedroom windows as you read your book. You had just finished an intense workout in your home gym, the exhaustion and exhilaration leaving you feeling both drained and sleepy. So, after a shower, you had wrapped yourself in a plush robe, seeking comfort in your bed for a bit before thinking about dinner.

A while later Lewis found you, curled up in bed. A smile tugged at his lips as he admired your relaxed demeanor, his fingers playing with the ring he had found placed at tv console in the gym, now safely tucked in his pocket. Scooting closer to you on the bed, he gently pulled you into his embrace, his warmth enveloping you. His touch was gentle, and with a contented smile, you nestled closer to Lewis, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. His arms wrapping around you protectively.

In that intimate moment, Lewis gazed into your eyes softly. "I love you," he whispered, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "And I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."

“I love you” You whispered back as you looked up at him, although not without a questioning look, as to why the sudden confession.

He let out a chuckle and reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the ring, his features full of adoration as he asked you for the thousandth time "Will you marry me, again?" his voice barely above a whisper.

Overwhelmed you took a moment to gather your words, your heart pounding just like it had when he asked for the first time. “Yeah, always”, your voice steady and certain. As he slipped the ring onto your finger, sealing your renewed commitment, your hands reached for the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours.

The Candles Proposal

The aroma of a Sunday roast filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of herbs and spices. You were in the kitchen, focused on preparing a delicious meal for Lewis's family. His mother was by your side, offering her expertise and sharing cherished family recipes.

As you started making fresh pasta from scratch, you carefully removed your new wedding ring, placing it in Lewis's hand for safekeeping. He smiled, understanding the gesture, and pocketed the ring, promising to keep it safe.

The meal was a success, filled with laughter, stories, and the warmth his family always provided. As you two got back home late at night you headed for the shower, to clean up and decompress.

When you returned to the living room, you were greeted by the soft glow of candlelight. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, and soft music played in the romantic and intimate background that Lewis had created.

In the center of the room, Lewis knelt on one knee, his eyes filled with love and determination. The ring you had entrusted to him earlier glinted in his hand, catching the candlelight. "Since I still don’t believe it’s true… would you marry me?” Lewis asked softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection as he held out the ring to you.

"Yes, Lew" you replied, your voice filled with love and gratitude. "I would be honored to marry you, over and over again." Surprised and touched by him, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. The love and thoughtfulness he had put into this moment a reminder of the lengths he would go to show the love he felt.

The Surprise

As you entered the newly painted nursery, a smile spread across your face at the sight of the lovingly decorated room. Your heart swelled with anticipation at the thought of welcoming your baby into this home and to finally start your own family.

As you admired each detail, your eyes fell upon the wedding band resting on the dresser. Curiosity piqued, you picked up the ring, a tender smile playing on your lips as you realized Lewis had left it behind, probably had taken if off when he was painting.

Knowing he must be in his study, you made your way there, your heart fluttering with excitement. Entering the room, you found Lewis absorbed in his work, surrounded telemetry and car part’s designs. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head against his shoulder.

He turned to meet your gaze, a soft smile lighting up his face as he pulled you onto his lap, his hands automatically resting on your 6 months-bump. "You know, I can't physically kneel like you always do" you teased, a playful glint in your eye, "but there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

Lewis chuckled, his arms tightening around you as he waited for you to continue. With a grin, you reached into your pocket, retrieving the wedding band. Holding it up between you, you met Lewis's gaze, your heart overflowing with love and joy.

"Would you marry me?" you asked, your voice filled with warmth and affection. Lewis's eyes shimmered with emotion. Without a moment's hesitation, he nodded, his voice filled with love. "Yes, I’ll marry you, every day if need be"

As you slipped the ring onto his finger, sealing your renewed commitment, you knew that no matter what life had in store, your love would always be the guiding light that led you through every joy and challenge.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #ella asks #f1 imagine #formula 1

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rntoshi · 1 year

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͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ 🔊 bachira meguru (n): the obsessive type.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏/ • yandere tendencies, all characters are adults.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏similar: a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

it's canon that there's something a bit sinister about bachira— something a little off. it makes me believe he isn’t the conventional lover you’d want him to be.

bachira is an obsessive type, meaning if he enjoyed something he would indulge in it in an excessive, unhealthy amount. it's unfiltered. and as cute as he is, there is a brewing darkness inside of him that he's been open about since he was a child. so much so that he's seemingly made friends with it, referring to this imaginary friend as a "monster," and often talking to and about it as if they were longtime friends.

you to bachira was no exception. he was attracted to you because you were self-assured, not in a cocky way? but in a way that you have a level head on your shoulders. you're seemingly at peace with yourself and where you are in life— and bachira is intrigued by that because he hasn't.. felt that. bachira has never known the happiness that is being surrounded by those who love and accept him like you did when you were a child. much like how he was drawn to isagi, it's similar with you. but instead, bachira doesn't want to coexist and awaken something in you: he wants to possess you because he views you as some sort of angel— you're a virtue who makes him feel tranquility he's never had when he was young. it feels euphoric for him when he's with you for the simple fact he feels protected, heard and accepted even despite his.. eccentric personality. all the things he gotten tormented for; you love. you actively heal his innermost trauma which is why he'd go to extremes rather than letting you go.

you balance him out. he’s very childish, whimsical and chaotic whereas you are nurturing, doting and stable. you’re his anchor in many ways but it’s most evident emotionally. he has moments of weakness where he needs your constant reassurance that you love him, having to promise him a thousand times that you won’t leave him for someone else— his biggest fear is being alone but when he met you it shifted into: he’s afraid of you leaving him all alone.

the relationship definitely an odd pairing according to the public eye. one would assume that you’d be a better fit for someone like rensuke, seishiro or maybe even rin because from the outside it seems as though there’s a dynamic that puts you in a more dominant role. the way bachira so easily clings onto you and finds himself falling asleep in the crook of your neck, solely being lulled into peace from the sound of your voice. he’s incredibly touch starved and often gets restless and agitated when he’s away from you for too long. your touch, your smell, the warmth you produce— it’s like his lifeline.

he is submissive to you in certain aspects, even a bit codependent to a trained eye from the outside looking in, but this wasn't the entire truth.

see, bachira is an brilliant actor and while he does put on a world class performance of being the whimsical, cutesy boy toy— he’s an excellent manipulator. bachira has gotten to a point where does it so we that he doesn’t realize he’s doing it anymore, its altered his sense on reality.

the best way to describe it would be to say there’s a hidden dimension of the relationship that you’re totally unaware of, but he is. bachira is the puppet master and you're his most prized doll. because you’re so nurturing, kind, and naive, you play right into his game every time. you would never suspect your darling, dear bachira to ever do such a thing. in your eyes your sweet boyfriend could never do anything wrong, let alone manipulating you. into what? not leaving him? you know he has some issues to be worked out in therapy, but you've already reassured him countless times that you only have eyes for him and not a soul could change that.

“you know if you ever, ever, ever~ ♡ left me for someone else..” he's breathless in your ear as his hips rut into you from behind but there's so clearly a smile in his voice. if only you could see the unhinged look on his face, but his bicep is wrapped around your neck in a light chokehold. the only thing you can focus on his the headboard in front of you. “i’d kill them— i’d kill them and i'd record it so I could send it to you as a gift. isn’t that romantic?” but little do you know, he actually dead serious. he’d go lengths to assure you’ll never leave his clutches.

“chira— d-on’t say t-things like that.. ah..” you whine, dainty fingers gripping the soft bedsheets underneath you. you're too under the influence of an orgasm to really process his words, for now you think of it as chira being chira. “you feel so.. good..”

“you’re mine— ‘nd you’ll be my bitch forever, yah~ ♡? my pretty princess.. my angel?” he says as he picks up his pace, now chasing his own high as you near your own. the sounds of skin on skin from his pelvis hitting the meat of your ass and the high-pitched moans coming from both you and him were explicit and pornographic.

“always.. always!” the tightening around the base of his cock from your high and your cries are what essentially push him over the edge, making him unload deep inside your hole. the simple implication or rather.. agreement that you'll be his forever was enough for him.

nevermind the aggressive love bites that have sense drawn blood, bachira will just give you that pretty puppy-eyed look and apologize for getting out of hand. he never "means" to, honest. he totally doesn't get the sweet satisfaction of marking what he considers his property.

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ozzgin · 2 months

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Hi it’s me again 😁. I wanted to try to request something but it’s very specific so if you don’t like the idea or just don’t have the time you can just put it aside 😅.

It’s another female predator story but in this one reader is a preator that was born black with white markings which is seen as a bad omen ( i don’t think it’s real in the Yautja culture but let’s just role with it ). Reader was abandoned by her family and was found by a family of thanator ( you know those fierce alien panther from avatar ) so she was a savage and knew how to hunt without any tools from a young age. Her grandmother, a strong and important matriarch, found her and took her back to their planet. But reader doesn’t really have contact with her kind except for her grandmother and her thanators and she hunts alone a lot of dangerous enemies ( like xenoporph queens ).

I’m totally making the even up but let’s imagine it’s mating season and there is a huge a tournament to help yautjas find a good partner. Like wrestling, shooting or small combat matches… It’s time for the females to compete, reader is participating cause her grandma asked her ( she wants grandpups 😂 ) and is wrecking the events and catches the interest of many males. Especialy after the one on one fight where she would use a lot of her natural features and thanator fighting style ( we don’t really see them using there claws, feet or teeth a lot and it’s disapointing cause those are mass murder weapons). The males are enamoured and quickly process to begin the courting but reader doesn’t really know how to act with males and she never really paid it much attention before cause she’s usually hunting or founding and taking care of new alien pets companions. I bet the males are amazed with this unique and strong ( and kind of inexperienced 😏 ) female yautja.

Thanks for reading this ( long ass fuck to be honest 😂😅) resquest and i hope everything is alright for you, 😘 bye.

You'll have to excuse potentially wrong assumptions as I haven't watched Avatar and have no idea what it is about 🥲 buut otherwise I just detailed around your ideas, they’re pretty solid and I didn’t want to tamper with them more than necessary

Predator Headcanons: Predator Reader in Tournament

Featuring a Yautja female with an unusual background.

Everything happened so suddenly. Your peaceful like among your family, uprooted within seconds. One particular day and out of nowhere, a bizarre vessel hovered over Pandora's forests, alerting everyone in its vicinity. The intruders that teleported down caused even greater confusion: they looked just like you. Yet you couldn't understand their odd clicks and guttural noises, nor did you trust the intricate holograms and machinery pointed in your direction.

After what felt like an eternity - and with the help of a translator - the uninvited guests announced their purpose: to retrieve you and bring you back to Yautja Prime. Nonsense, you thought at the time. There's no "back" when your home has always been on this Planet. Despite your protests, you'd quickly learned that your hunting expertise was no proper defense against their foreign technology and so you begrudgingly accepted the proposal.

The first few months were, plainly put, depressing. The matriarch - you'd soon learn she is your remaining family - insisted on keeping your integration a secret at first. Many factors were still unknown to them: would you be able to learn their language after so many years? What about defending yourself against other Predators? Yautja communities are ruthless and unforgiving, and the matriarch could not risk killing off her only successor.

Thankfully you proved yourself efficient enough with your skills. Growing up in the forest has honed your senses, perhaps to an even greater degree when compared to a Predator who relies on modern weaponry. Impressed with the outcome, your grandmother decides to register you for the Grand Tournament. What better way to reveal the return of her long-lost suckling? You don't know what it entails, but the time spent hunting xenomorphs has gotten quite monotonous. You'd take any challenge to entertain you.

The gate opens and you step inside the ring without hesitation. There's a moment of silence, followed by suspicious murmurs from a confused audience. Unbeknownst to you, the patterns you're donning are not only a rare occurrence among the Yautja species, but a bad omen as well. The males are studying your movements carefully. It's not just your appearance; Your fighting stance is unusual, resembling a wild animal. And, as the end of the match quickly follows with an effortless win on your side, they're certain of one thing: they've found their mate.

You raise your first victoriously and don't even notice the predatory stares. Nor do you comprehend the sudden gathering of males that has formed towards the exit, awaiting your return. What's the meaning of this? You glare at the matriarch, and she responds with a smirk. You'll figure it out soon enough.

#predator #predator headcanons #predator x reader #predator reader #yautja #yautja x reader

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kitkatscabinet · 1 year

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Bejeweled

Aegon Targaryen II x f! reader

Summary: You hadn't married Aegon for love but you had thought time would at least endear you to each other. When years pass and he remains stuck in his drinking, whoring ways you decide to make him pay the best way you know how.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: didn't know where i was going with this and ended up writing whiny sub Aegon: 18+ only, minors scram. never written smut before so if its cringe sorry. Spell check stopped working halfway through so probable errors.

Baby love, I think I've been a little too kind. Didn't notice you walking all over my peace of mind

As a highborn daughter of a lord you'd always known it was your destiny to marry well. To be sold like cattle to the highest bidder, you had long since accepted your lot in life.

So when you had been wed to the first son of the King you had done so without a hint of protest. Your parents hadn't been a love match but they had grown close enough and were on friendly terms. You had known this going in, just as you had heard the less than savoury rumours that surrounded the prince.

You had let it slide when he'd gotten outrageously drunk on your wedding night and the months after when he'd continued to drown in his cups and whores.

All the while you'd continued to play the role of the loyal, loving wife. Pulling his hair from his face, tucking him in when he'd passed out drunk, bending to his every whim in the hopes that maybe he’d finally see you.

It takes two years for you to completely give up, two years two long because after all Puttin' someone first only works when you're in their top five.

Aegon’s 20th name day was a resplendent affair. The Queen had taken it upon herself to ensure her eldest son and heir received the finest of days, even if he didn't deserve it. Deserved or not the festivities had given you the perfect opportunity for subtle retribution.

You had taken it upon yourself to be fashionably late to the banquet, mirroring his own lady mother's entrance to princess Rhaenyra's wedding. The magnificent gown that complimented every inch of your figure a stunning example of your house colours. Not a single inch of Hightower green or Targaryen imagery to be seen.

Hungry eyes of lords and ladies alike followed your figure, drawn to the beauty that had been heavily accentuated by the glittering jewellery that adorned your wrists and neck. Diamonds and pearls that had mostly been gifted to you by your already outrageously drunk husband. The husband that had been too busy eye fucking the poor serving girl to notice your entrance.

It isn't until you take your designated seat beside your husband does Aegon notice your form. Eyes widening comically as you grasp the newly filled cup from his hands and bring it to your own painted red lips.

A wicked sense of satisfaction fills your chest its tendrils curling around your heart as you notice how absolutely entranced the drunkard has become with you. Aegon's lips are parted with desire as his eyes greedily drink in what he believes to be his present. Your raise the glass once more to hide the vindictive smirk that has slithered its way onto your face as you think

Best believe I'm still bejeweled. When I walk in the room. I can still make the whole place shimmer. Aegon had taken so much from you, but your body, your beauty was still yours.

You don't stay seated for long as jaunty music fills the hall in a tune you had always been particularly fond of. Fingers lightly trailing over Aegon's shoulders as you make your way to the dancefloor. Your husband had never been one to entertain your desire to do so, and now you were determined to make him watch as another man placed his hands on what he thought was his.

As you made your way into the dancing crowd your husband was forced to watch as you laughed in delight, spinning between the various lords that had all but tripped over themselves to be by your side.

Aemond had regaled you with tales of what it felt like to ride the legendary Vhagar and whilst you had never experienced the rush of dragon riding yourself you could only assume it felt something akin to your current delight. The burning fire of your blood as you witnessed Aegon's scowl turning into something darker. The power that thrummed through your veins as you forced your husband to watch as his nephews clutched at your waist. Not even his brother had been spared from your devious clutches, half-lidded eye and head following your retreating form as you moved to your next plaything.

Alas, that seemed to be the final straw for Aegon as he swiftly made his way to your side with a jaw clenched so hard you wondered how his teeth didn't crack. The grip with which he grabbed you was bruising though you refused to allow your discomfort to show, chin raised high as you looked into furious violet eyes.

"What, do you think you're doing, wife" he hissed into your ear all vitriol and gnashing teeth. Feigning confusion, you furrow your brows before running a delicate hand over his face.

"Whatever do you mean husband? I simply wished to dance, you've never shown any interest before and I didn't want to bother you and your serving girls." The illusion you had tried to maintain instantly shattered as your own venom leaked through.

It is Aegon's turn to be slightly taken aback then, you'd never so much as hinted your displeasure for his proclivities before. He'd never witnessed anything other than your kind doting and blind eyes to his lecherous ways. The sheer surprise in his countenance has you scoffing and pushing back an ugly bubble of laughter.

"Don't look so surprised husband" you hiss, "familiarity breeds contempt." Your rage fades into something more melancholy as you realise it is indeed the familiarity you had allowed yourself with him that has you so angry.

You had only ever brought up your fury once before in a drunken haze when you had begged him not to put you in the basement when you wanted the penthouse of his heart.

To your eternal luck, the song ended before either of you had the opportunity to speak again and you were pulled away by a brave or suicidal lord for the next.

Forcing back the tears and pushing a smile onto your face you eagerly took the lord's hand. You spent the rest of the night avoiding Aegon's presence, surrounded by lords and ladies more than willing to keep you company. Diamonds in my eyes I polish up real, I polish up real nice.

Your sudden desire to entertain anyone other than your husband doesn't end with the celebrations. When Aegon confronts you once more, a week after you stop mothering him you simply say "baby boy, I think I've been too good of a girl." You run a thumb over his lips before turning to make your escape, I think it's time to teach some lessons.

By now the residents of King's Landing court were more than aware of your sudden cold treatment of the prince. None more so than the men and women that had found themselves on the recieving end of your attention. Light touches with your rind adorned hands and whispers into ears with lips lingering a little too closely to be proper. Helaena and Aemond were the most popular recipients of your affection, the starved pair eagerly basking in the glory of your love.

Aegon, who had attempted to appear nonchalant at your sudden interest in the lords and ladies of the courts had eventually become furious.

It came to a head when Aegon had stalked into your room, obviously drunk, to see you curled up in Helaena's lap as she read through the newly update encyclopedia of instects you had gifted her. The following acidic conversation had quickly devolved into a screaming match that had you ushering an overwhelmed Helaena to safety.

Every nasty thought you had been holding in finally erupted once the sweet girl was out of the crossfire and the doors to your chambers slammed shut.

"My brother wasn't enough for you, you're fucking my sister now?" he sneered, wine spilling over his hand and adding to the various stains adorning his once white shirt.

Tears of fury burn the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, to give the bastard in front of you the satisfaction. Scoffing you stalked towards him, remaining out of striking distance but more than ready to rain your own hell down on him.

"What would it matter if I did?" you hissed defiantly, the ugly part of you still determined to make him hurt.

"You're my wife! You belong to me" he shrieked back, and that was your final straw. Feet swiftly closing the small gap between the two of you as your open palm connected with the skin of his cheek. The force left your hand stinging but you couldn't drag your eyes off the reddening skin of his pale skin. Pained shock covered his face as he clutched at the affected area.

"You're my husband, you're supposed to belong to me!" you retaliated trying desperately to ignore the gathering tears in his eyes. "I made you my world! I gave you all my pieces until I didn't even recognise myself anymore!"

The sapphire tears that you had so desperately been trying to keep at bay streaming down your own face. All at once your rage diminished and you were drowning once more in the sadness that had become your whole sky.

Unfortunately, your vitriolic rage was the only thing keeping your shaking body upright and your knees were quick to hit the floor. Deep heaving sobs shook your entire frame as you struggled to regain the breath you were losing.

Vaguely you are aware of Aegon clutching onto your form but you are too exhausted to push him away, desperate for some kind of comfort. His lips leave a burning trail along the skin of your neck and down to your chest. His deft fingers slowly unlace your nightgown whilst yours tangle in his silver hair, tugging at the roots to direct his movements.

Your mind is screaming at you to stop him, to not let him just crawl back to use and discard you once more. Gaining back some clarity you tug harshly at Aegon's hair, forcing his mouth to dislodge itself from your inner thigh. What you hadn't accounted for was the pathetic whine that your action had drawn from his throat.

You watched greedily as your husband's pupils dilated even further, lips pouting as he struggled against your hand to return to his prize. Your grip remained firm however as you sat up, using your free hand and legs to flip the unsuspecting man onto his back, before enclosing your grip around his neck instead. Once more his throat let out a pathetic whine that set your veins alight, fire burning in your chest down to your fingertips as you forced his writhing form to stay still.

Slowly you ground your hips down against his, eyes never leaving his as you lowered your mouth to bite down just over his heart. Your reward was a shaky gasp that sounded delicously close to a sob that had your hips faltering in astonishment.

The desperate upwards bucking of hips below you snaps you back into action. Fingers flexing in a warning around his throat as you lifted yourself onto his lower abdomen in order to stop any movement.

"No." With a single word the tides had changed, the usually prideful man had been reduced to a puddle of shaking, begging tears. Throat dry and nerves alight with ecstasy you slowly rid your bodies of any remaining cloth before sinking back down into his lap. You keep your movements deliberately slow as your rock your hips back and forth, mouth leaving punishing bruises along the milky expanse of his skin.

All the while your eyes never leave his face, scrunched up in pleasure and mouth stringing together the prettiest mix of moans and babbled words.

"please" he whimpers, eyes rolling into the back of his head and almost causing the last thread of your self control to snap from its already frayed state.

"Please what?" you smirked wickedly in response, attempting to maintain the last vestiges of your percieved control. Unintelligible whimpers are your only response and in a vindictive move you stop once more. "Use your words Aegon" you chided, leaning up to nip at the skin just below his ear.

"Please. Please, please fuck me" he shakily babbled out, breathy words finally pushing you over the edge. Your hips snapped into a punishing pace, hand grasping his throat so tightly you knew the skin underneath would soon bllom into a deep purple.

"Is this what you want? The reason you throw yourself so desperately at all those whores? You want someone to treat you like one?" you growl into his ear, your own pants of pleasure ane exhertion mixing with those from the writhing form beneath you.

The gasped moans increasing in pitch and furiously shuddering thighs indicated that in a typically selfish Aegon move, your husband wouldn't last much longer. A wave of annoyance ran through you as a snarl erupted from your throat. Lightening the harsh grip on his throat you offered only a brief reprieve before your fingers snaked their way into silver locks once more. Tugging forcefully you pulled until his chest was flush against yours, sweat mixing together as the two of your fought to pull the other impossibly closer.

"Touch me" you demanded, forcefully pulling his mouth down to bite at your hammering pulse and shoving one of his hands between your legs. Where Aegon ends and you begin is a mystery, the both of you desperately clawing at each other as if trying to pull the other into their very being.

It is with large hands splayed and grasping at your back and whimpered chants of your name just reaching your conscience through the debauched moans and slapping skin that you reach your high. Thighs clamping down against muscled thighs and a final harsh tug of sweat soaked silver locks is all it takes for Aegon to follow.

Your lungs greedily gulp in air tainted by the stench of sex as you force your shaking body to cooperate. Pulling yourself back you allow a brief persual of the masterpiece you had created still splayed bonelessly on your mattress. Burning leg muscles eventually allow you to move, collecting your discarded nightdress as you make yourself as presentable as possible.

"where're you goin?" Aegon slurs from your bed, glazed eyes hazily attempting to take in your movements.

"To bed, and seeing as mine is occupied it appears I'll have to find my rest elsewhere tonight. Good night Aegon." You are too swift for him to protest but as you reach the door you throw one last look at your painting of purples and reds before calling, "clean yourself up, you look like a whore." With those final words you close the door behind you once more, holding your head high as your assigned guards for the night throw uncomfortable glances at your post pleasure form. The sweat adorning your skin glinting slightly in the low lighting the various torches provided.

What's a girl gonna do? A diamond's gotta shine

Whispers flitted through the cut throat court of King's Landing. Whispers of a bejweled temptress and the pathetic Targaryen that attempted to hang off her arm like a broken bangle. Whispers that turned to scandalised gasps that followed when she walked in the room, a different Targaryen draped proudly across her arm. Long silver hair matching the refinery littering her fingers, wrists and neck as she made the whole place shimmer.

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#aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen ii x reader #x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #aegon targaryen ii fic

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monokyubey · 9 months

Text

Catching his eyes

Denji angst time!!!

The soft light filters in through the nearby window, casting pillars of light onto his soft blonde hair. His expression is surprisingly tranquil as he sleeps, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open lightly. Although this reveals razor sharp teeth, it seems unthreatening in this morning light. Seeing Denji this peaceful almost makes it worth it. Almost.

When he came to you in the middle of the night to lament to you about his suffering, you found it almost impossible to turn him away. As always, you would be his comfort when he had nowhere else to turn. You wanted to help him, after all, you knew how hard he always had it. He had once told you that you were similar to his old dog, whom he could share his dreams with. That you would always listen to him. That’s what you wanted to be for him. But it was so damn hard. Afterall, these dreams of his always starred a girl he could never quite get, and one you could never quite be.

Makima.

“Makima.”

As you said it quietly to yourself, even the name felt wrong on your tongue. It felt like poison, a slow working but fatal poison. Perhaps that is what it was to your relationship with the confused boy in front of you. As he slept on your couch, you could almost imagine that her name would never cross his lips again. But of course, you doubted when he actually rose for the morning that it would take more than five minutes for her name to be brought up by the excited boy. Sometimes you wondered if it was actually love in his heart for the red haired woman, or he simply didn’t know how to express his true feelings. Despite all the time he had spent pouring out his heart to you, you still weren’t quite sure.

When had this happened to you? When had you allowed yourself to fall into this confusing chaotic relationship that would never be a relationship? Afterall, Denji was unaware of your feelings. Even if he knew, he was eager for romance so he might accept even with no feelings of reciprocation. The flame in his heart would always burn bright for the girl with the golden eyes. Before Denji, you had never seen Makima in this way. In your brief interactions with her, she had always seemed untouchable, but not unkind. She seemed to still care for her job and the people around her. Yet now, Denji had put a filter over your eyes. Sometimes you could see what he saw, you could see why she was so perfect. Still untouchable, but now she was worthy of adoration, worthy of worship. It was true, you could see why Denji had easily fallen for her. And yet the pain in your heart whenever she came into your gaze remained.

Perhaps it wasn’t just seeing her. It was seeing him. His expression. His adoration. He was usually so loud, so obnoxious, so uncaring about others’ opinions. Yet around her, he grew silent. Respectful. This was a phenomenon you had never seen Denji experience with anyone else.

Its not that you wanted that with him. You didn’t want Denji’s worship. Even asking for his love felt too much. Perhaps you just wanted his consideration. Just wanted to be in the running for his affection.

Sometimes you could imagine it was there. When he came to you late at night, and you would offer him tea made with way too much sugar (just the way he likes it), a piece of toast with his favorite jam, and a patient ear; you could just barely see it. Just hardly there, glimmering below the surface, you could see something. Some emotion in his eyes. You didn’t quite know what it was. You didn’t want to give yourself false hope, but just like him, you liked to dream.

Afterall, there had to be a reason he came to you. There had to be. Something inside of you refused to accept his reason of “Power would make fun of me” or “No way I’m talking to Topknot, he’s my rival!”. You never considered yourself an egotistical person, but you had to be special. Denji wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise. You were his confidant, a role you took with honor. You would always be there you this strange boy who had wormed his way into your heart.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound of an alarm startled you from your thoughts, even startling Denji awake as well. As you walked over to click it off, you heard him groan lightly.

“Ugh, thanks for setting an alarm for me. Aki would be on my ass if I was late again”.

There it was again. You didn’t think you’d heard him say “thank you” to anyone else but you. And of course, Makima. But that had to mean something, didn’t it?

“No problem. Do you want some breakfast before you head out?”

Your eyes dragged over his tired frame. He was still dressed in his public safety uniform, although much more disheveled now. His tie was undone, his shirt was half unbuttoned, and everything he was wearing was wrinkly. If you had more time, you would offer to fix his clothes for him, even going as far as to get out your rarely used iron, sitting forgotten in your closet. However, you knew he was under a time crunch, so his heavily creased clothes would have to do. His eyes, though they looked tired, lit up slightly at the prospect of food. A fleeting thought crossed your mind about how you wished he would look at you like that. How pathetic you are.

“Hell yeah! But it’ll have to be pretty quick or I won’t have time to get back to Aki’s before work.” He grinned as he spoke though, clearly more excited about breakfast than worried about what Aki would do to him if he was tardy. You turned your back to him, rummaging through your cabinets to find the baked goods you had procured yesterday. Although giving them to Denji would require you to go out again for food sooner than you expected, it would be worth it. Despite the fact he would probably never reciprocate your emotions, you would still always yearn to keep him happy and healthy. You would remain on the sidelines for him, if it meant you could see his delighted smile become a constant.

As you turned back to him, that very smile was on his face, his eyes aglow with happiness. Even if it wasn’t for you, you’d take it. You knew Denji would continue to come as long as you’d let him, seeking someone to listen to and in turn help him understand his complicated emotions. And you intended to always be there when he looked. You just wished he was looking at you for a different reason. And some part of you, would always wish to be the girl with the red hair and golden eyes.

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femfaetarot · 1 year

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

let me saturate your mind with the message of spirit. let the cards communicate an experience deeper than word of mouth, something you feel, and not hear. something you understand, better than you can force. take a second, breathe, and ask that what you perceive is unwavering. look for the hidden messages tucked between the lines where spirit wishes you to explore, deeper.

everything you hear has meaning, and value. allow yourself to find that meaning, to you, and value it, for it is just for you. It is a gift. say thank you, and find something to be grateful for today. spirituality, and not materially.

feedback is most appreciated

You may be feeling overwhelmed, scared, or even challenged by something in your path. It feels too big to bare. Too strong. Too sturdy of a challenge. Call to the Elk, find these dark pieces of yourself, and release. Know that the problems you perceive are only as bad as you make them to be in your mind. There is a bright side, no matter how faint, there will always be a ray of light.

You are mighty my love, as an Elk. Bare your antlers and understand that there is a gentleness to your little doe eyes. Find the balance. Call to the spirit of Elk.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨

The Eel and The Iris; safety XLII (reversed). Eels are furtive creatures, often burying themselves in murky depths. The idiom “slippery as an eel” refers to eel’s ability to escape from harm.

The Butterfly and The Snowdrop; Hope XLVI. Two symbols of spring, remind us that winter will soon end, and hope is on the horizon. Butterflies develops through metamorphosis, transforming from a and egg into a larva, then becoming a pupa or chrysalis, and finally, hatching into an adult. The egg stage is so humble, and the full-grown butterfly so astounding, the process can feel like magic.

Your insect is butterfly. What do you need in order to feel safe? A period of hardship is coming to a close l, and better days are ahead. Take hear in signs of the coming thaw.

I have miraculously pulled two cards for you, pile 2. Here I see that the butterfly is of extreme importance here. A period of transformation. The Eel is you, and the butterfly is the insect that will guide you.

Some situation has violated you, and has made you recluse into yourself. I see a woman, caressing gently a beautiful blue butterfly. Blue may be of significance. It does not speak, but the fluttering of its wings communicates safety. “Have hope” it says “allow me to guide you through with light and warmth.”

Change can be a beautiful thing. This sudden reclusion can be given beautiful purpose. Take this time and find love within everything that surrounds you. Engulf yourself in people, places, and things that support you. Find trust in your heart that all is well. Understand wounds will scab before they scar. Resist the urge to pick. They will scar, and then they will heal. There is peace in silence and self-acceptance. Accept this situation has violated you, and cause pain to the soul within you. Fall in love with the process, for it is the now.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

The Quail and Gooseberry; anticipation LI. The Quail anticipates danger by hiding among low-growing vegetation. From its obscured perch, it keeps careful watch, monitoring for predators.

Your animal is Quail. How can you balance vigilance with a healthy openness to risk? There has been a thought plaguing your mind. Wether in the back of your head, or persistent like a fruit fly, it is there. An outcome you have expected is to come true. The Quail asks you to release yourself to what you know to be true. Surrender to the knowledge and prepare for the outcome in which you see clearly in your minds eye. Do not jump to conclusions, fore it may be the conclusion to a story you did not know was playing as prevalent a role in your journey as you’d imagined.

All the while, it is there

Do not, however, allow this forewarning to become the plague in which infests your mind. There is no good or bad, only what you chose to do.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

The Eel and The Iris; safety XLII (reversed). Eels are furtive creatures, often burying themselves in murky depths. The idiom “slippery as an eel” refers to eel’s ability to escape from harm.

The Vulture and Asphodel; upheaval XIV. The vulture and indicates an upheaval regard mourning, grief, and regret. The vulture is often associated with death, and in many ways this is relevant: the harsh wounds caused by one can lead to the death of a connection, time, or love shared — but Vultures also play an important role in our ecosystem. Their consumption of Carrion prevents the spread of disease.

Your animals are Vulture and Eel. These two animals wish to bare you love and guidance. A situation has caused grief and heartache for you, dear star. A death, of any kind, is painful. A trauma has occurred recently that has left you wounded. I see someone has hurt you.

Fear not, my beautiful angels, for I have a message. Take care of yourself. It is okay to grieve, mourn, and feel violated. It is okay to just feel, and the vulture asks you to do just that. Grieve, and cleanse your wounds so you may stop this spread of disease. This cycle of hurt.

The Eel asks you to set healthy boundaries. This, although painful, is the chance of immense enlightenment. Wether or not others are accepting of the lines you draw in the sand, the Eel asks you to stand firm in yourself and keep persistent for what you know to be best for you. The Eel and Vulture stand with you, and support you in your healing.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

The Frog and The Lotus; metamorphosis VI. This card reminds us that change is natural, rebirth is possible, and a healing balance can be achieved. The frog, developing as it does from a tiny tadpole, symbolizes transformation.

The Raccoon and Sycamore; curiosity XXXIII. The Raccoon calls us to explore a thrilling new interest, idea, or opportunity. Raccoons are intelligent creatures, dexterous, and eager. Often likened to bandits due to the mask-like markings around their eyes, they are quite loveable rascals — rarely seeking to cause harm.

Your animals are Raccoon and Frog. The message most clear is that something is ready to die. The auspicious spirit of Raccoon gives you the courage to try the little things you’ve always wanted. Explore, and discover new parts of yourself within these new hobbies you never knew existed.

The frog considers the things that need changing. What can I get rid of for the betterment of my personal change? Old clothes, habits, thoughts, and books? Toss it all out and embrace the new you. You are a butterfly.

What new hobbies or interests do you want to explore, little butterfly?

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐱

channeled song — “ moment ” by Victoria Monét

The Ladybug and Sweet Pea; Happiness XXXV. Symbols of good luck and fortune, ladybugs are wonderful insects known to keep garden pets like aphids at bay.

Your insect is LadyBug. The LadyBug wishes to bare you the news of happiness, positivity, and good luck. A great deal of fulfillment from life is on your way, and the LadyBug asks you to share the contentment from which will come into your heart during this time with others.

Do not simply give — there must be balance — but know you are blessed, and there is to be no fear of lack. You are abundant my little star! So shine! And scream from the high heavens in which the love in your heart demands.

It is also coming through that you resemble a lady bug. I’m seeing large eyes. Perhaps some significance in the face here somewhere…you are beautiful. Others view you that way.

#thirdluck #pac reading #pac tarot #pac #pick a photo #pick an image #pick a card #free tarot #free tarot readings #free tarot reading #tarot #tarot reading

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rainroses45 · 1 year

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(Sully family x daughter reader)

description: you are Neteyam’s twin sister and you always try to please your father

a/n: I honestly need some sad fanfic right now so i decided to do it myself…(not edited)

song inspiration: Cherry-colored funk

You were twins, two of the same people. You shared a birth, a home, a face, everything. Neteyam and you were the eldest of the family. Dad expected the both of you to be the role models. The co-captains of the ‘squad’. A role not chosen, but forced upon by the lectures and trainings throughout your childhood. You felt like a misplaced puzzle piece, constantly being shoved into different spots of a picture you weren’t apart of. They tried, oh how they tried to make you be the perfect fit. They cut you apart, shaved off your links that belonged to another puzzle piece, but it was no use, you were an outcast. Not only by your blood, but by your abilities.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You thought back on today as you stared at the sky. The world was seeping in with your thoughts to the point you couldn’t tell where the crashing sound was coming from. Each wave came harder than the last, its current was strong and frightful, you wanted to make peace with it but weren’t quite sure how to confront it.

Today was a rough day, it wasn’t just how you failed to fit in with the clan, but you got into a fight with the chief’s son. Once again it wasn’t your fault, but it made your dad’s life so much easier to just place the blame on you. No matter how hard you tried to explain yourself, how hard you tried to defend your sister’s honor, nothing was ever put to justice with him in rule. He was the general and you were merely a soldier who served nothing more than another number, another responsibility, another disappointment.

His words still echoed through your thick skull. Its memory brought back the deep waves of depression and hopelessness. The liquid falling from your eyes wasn’t from the ocean, it physically pained you to be associated always as the disappointment of the family.

“I asked you all for one thing! One thing, and you guys completely disregarded it!” Your dad yelled at you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, his fury rolled off of him in red waves. His tone and volume made you feel unsafe.

“Sir I take full blame,” Neteyam butted into the lecture, again trying to take the fall. I glared at him, he needs to stop doing that.

“Neteyam you need to stop taking the blame for your siblings. Go, I will talk to you later.” Neteyam sighed nodding back in acceptance, he looked at me in sadness and walked out the mauri. Lo’ak began to also leave thinking he was going to get away lecture free, but was soon shut down.

“Don’t think I don’t see you Lo’ak, I will talk to you next.” Your father stated with his arms crossed in disapproval. Lo’ak looked down grumbling, then left leaving me alone with my father.

“I asked for one thing Y/n. One simple order, and you completely disregard it!” Your father turned his attention towards you.

“But sir-“ You tried to explain yourself hoping it would ease the tension. Once news of the fight was heard, he kicked everyone out except you and your brothers, so much for your siblings right now. No one dared to argue back except your mother, but she was quickly distracted by Tuk’s calls.

“No more excuses Y/n! I’m tired of hearing your excuses.” He interrupted you, his words getting harsher and harsher.

“But sir Kiri-“ You tried once again to explain your reasoning, but you were shut down by your father.

“Do you even care about this family?” He glared at you letting his hands form into fists. His death glare cause you to tremble in anger and fear.

“What?” You looked at your father in shocked. How could he ask such a thing? You would die for this family. You would give up anything for your family. “Of course I do sir.” Your voice was shaky and dry while your hands sweat from nervousness.

“Then why are you acting so selfish? Why can’t you be like Neteyam and listen to me?” He asked you with his arms lazily open, waiting patiently for your ‘excuse’. His words hit you deep. Why couldn’t you be like Neteyam?

“I do dad! I try dad- I mean sir, I truly do try.” You looked everywhere until you finally met your father’s gaze once more. At this point tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

“Stop lying!” He screamed, you slowly began to move back from your spot. Your dad looked down to let out a sigh then looked back at you with his hands on his hips. “You’re dismissed, I don’t want to see you right now.”

With that final response you left the area and went to the isolated beach. It wasn’t suppose to end like that.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Guys,” you softly yelled as you swam towards a nearby rock. Your wounds began to ache more and more. The adrenaline was wearing out and you felt yourself slowly give up. You put your everything during the battle, taking down the sky people left and right, protecting the Metkayina and your family from harm.

Your lungs began to burn, but you couldn’t stop now; you picked your head up to see if anyone was on the rock or near by. Smiling you see your brother laying on the rock, you called out to him. “Neteyam!” The pure joy in your voice was so true and loud. “Neteyam!” You yelled once again, your spirit blossomed giving you the energy to swim towards the rock. During the short distance, you thought nothing of the silence or how your twin never responded back to your calls.

“Neteyam,” you said as you climbed the rock slowly, being careful to not cause any more damage to your open wounds. You touched your brother’s shoulder - it was cold. Your eyes widen at the blood staining your brother’s skin. He’s dead.

You drop your head down, letting your tears fall at the sudden loss, and then looked up to the sky screaming. Screaming for the loss of your twin. Screaming for the pain of not saving him. Screaming because you have only yourself to blame. It was always your fault. One of the only people who stood up for you, who truly loved you for you. He was gone. You didn’t get to say thank you, and you never will.

You slowly laid down next to your brother as sobs escaped. The pain of your wounds was soon forgotten and replaced with the loss of your brother. This is who the both of you are, a product of war. A product that stood no chance in the current. Loving any of us was a death sentence, wasn’t it? If you put everything into perspective, he fell but hit the ground; you fell and there nothing was there to catch you.

You looked back at all your memories, you wouldn’t apologize for your actions, nor would you regret what you have done, but you were truly sorry for the ending of it all. You didn’t know that you too would fill the ocean, and still not leave a permanent mark behind.

You watched the stars as the sky grew hazy and blissful. The pain was too much to bare, it was torturous. Rivers of red issued from your veins to be greeted by the sweet air. Your body ’s temperature dropped every second making it harder to fight off the breeze. You wished to go home and lay in the green moss. You wished you could visit the spirt tree, you wished you could talk to your older brother once more.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•

“Dad where is Y/n?” Kiri asked as they swam away from the drowning ship. Everyone was rescued and the sky people were finally taken care of. It wasn’t until this question was asked that a new problem arose.

“Lo’ak where did you leave your little sister?”Neytiri asked holding on to Tuk who was trying to free herself from her mother’s iron grip.

“She was fighting off one of the sky people, before I left.” He tried to recall back everything the has happened, but it was too blurry. Memories seemed to fade or be miss sequenced in his mind.

“Mama!” Tuk called out pointing towards the rock where Neteyam laid. “Mama look!” She demanded trying to grab her mother’s attention.

“What is it my sweet daughter?” The family turned around to face where the young child was pointing at. It was the rock where Neteyam rested, but there appears to be another body laying there. Quickly your family began to swim, hoping it was you on the rock.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Is it okay if i give up?” You asked to the darkness. Not knowing your family was nearby; they all began to swim faster trying to reach you. Your body was so tired, oh so very tired. The loss of blood and hope took a role on your body. You felt lethargic and on fire, like a ragged doll being burned alive. You were on the verge of closing your eyes when the sound of splashing and gasps were heard.

“My sweet daughter, oh my sweet daughter,” your mother wailed as she grasped your head into her arms. Your family saw your condition and they knew, oh they knew.

Your father climbed up the rock quickly after seeing how much blood you lost. “No, no, hold on there baby. I got you, I got you.” Your dad whispered as he turned you around to check your wounds. Two bullet holes were seen on your adoniminal , it was a full sweep.

“Be careful with her head,” you cried out in pain at the sudden movement. They shifted you back to the rock, you were still holding loosely to your brother’s hand.

“I am so sorry sweetheart,” your dad cried as he held your other hand. Kiri held Tuk as she looked around confused as to why everyone was crying. Lo’ak couldn’t even look at you, he stared off into the ocean.

“GREAT MOTHER PLEASE, OH GREAT MOTHER PLEASE,” your mother begged, for what you do not know. The sky was getting darker and you felt more heavy.

“I- I want to go home dad,” you sneered out in pain. You turned your head to the side and let out a cough filled with blood.

“I know baby, I know, we are going home, but you have to stay with us babygirl. Stay with us.” He wiped the blood away from your mouth as more tear began to fall from your eyes.

“Dad I am sorry-“ He quickly silenced you before you could finish apologizing.

“No, I am sorry baby. I am so sorry. If I could take back everything I would.” He promised with a sad smile. You were his baby. His little girl, how could he fail his one job. He was a father he was suppose to protect that is what gave it meaning, but right now he felt like that title should be ripped away from him. He lost his children. His reason to protect, how could he such a disappointment.

“Dad I-“ You never did finish your sentence that night. Your eyes rolled back and you let out your last breathe in vain. Goodbye world, you tried and that’s all that matters.

#avatar #sully family #neteyam #lo’ak #jake sully #major character death #sadnees #angst tag #neytiri #atwow tuk #kiri avatar

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prettymeredith · 1 year

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The Complete Guide to Becoming the Perfect Submissive Housewife, Section 2: Subjugation, Sub Section B:

~ Servitude ~

There are two words that often come to mind when one hears the word Housewife; Homemaker and Caretaker, with much more emphasis on the first. Cooking and cleaning without messing up your hair and makeup is only a fraction of the battle. Not only should you be fully dedicated to the fuctionality of the home itself, but you are in service those living in it as well.

Careing for any Domestic Superiods goes far beyond clean clothing, hot meals, and tidy living spaces. There is a connection that must be made on a personal level, and without this relationship you are no more than a simple handmaid with a fancy rock on their finger. Build a connection, and you shall find complacency in all that you do for your Domestic Superiors.

Obedience - This piece is so crucial and so obvious yet it still needs to be said; Do as you are told. The power dynamic between you and a Domestic Superior is the groundwork that allows for ideal Submissive behavior. You will find yourself happiest in your role when you discover that big decision making is not part of your jurisdiction, and that by doing the simple tasks within homemaking and caretaking can bring forward more support and joy than one can imagine.

As Housewife, you do not question the motives of the Domestic Lead. The old phrase "Stand by your Man" is one that should be kept close to your heart. Questioning a Domestic Lead or superior is acceptable, as long as you manage to tread lightly and accept the answers rhat you are given. Being nosey and opinionated are not qualities of a good Submissive Housewife.

Pampering - To pamper a Domestic Lead or Superior is a skill that takes time to master, and is different for each person. The intent is not to spoil a Superior, but to make them feel relaxed and cared for through both their physical and emotional needs.

Learning to give a great massage is a skill that can keep on giving. Knowing when to offer a favorite meal, snack, or beverage may also bring joy, served to them in a place like the bathrub or the bedroom. Little gifts of affection are also great little tools of pampering. Compliments can also go a long way.

Do keep in mind that there is a line between pampering and spoiling or babying. Yes a Superior will appreciate assistance with getting dressed, undressed, washed, etc. However these are people whom are perfectly capable of doing things for themselves; do not over burden them.

Bonding - Emotional support is a pillar that must hold firm, being perhaps the strongest piece of a healthy relationship. Which is why it is incumbent for you to take serious effort to bond with your Domestic Superiors, and most importantly your Domestic Lead.

Find out what their interests are, and show gunine self interest in wanting to know more about them. Having something to bond over is a strong foundation for more connection points to be made. What their shows, root for their sports teams, support their hobbies. Remember, its key to show interest and ket them open up towards you, do not insert yourself forcibly.

Home Decor - Now you may be wondering why a topic such as home decor is not listed previously somewhere with house keeping. This is because decor is what turns a place from anyones house, apartment, condo, etc. into a Home.

Dress the house like you would yourself; in things that your Domestic Superior likes to see. This task is easier done once more connection points have been made, and you have an understanding of who they truley are. This is their happy place where they should feel comfortable, surrounded by what makes them at most peace.

Body Care & Worship - Least we forget some of the key factors of total and complete Submissiveness; Worshiping one's body. Body worship can happen in many forms, and different people enjoy different areas and styles over others. One common thread that is always found is that this humbling act is necessary to both empower your Superiors as well as remind you of your proper place.

As mentioned, there are many kinds of Body Worship. The most common arguably being Foot Worship. Every good Housewife should know how to properly worship a pair of feet, and it is encouraged to perform foot worship as often as comfortably possible. Both research and practice are encouraged to improve your skillset of Body Worship & Care.

Sexual Gradification - As Housewife you have a certain, and many times unspoken, responsibility to satisfy your Domestic Lead's sexual deseries. It is your duty to not only indulge, but also initiate at times, sexual acts that are intended to gratify them. It is imperative to remember here that their needs come first and formost.

With only expressed permissions from your Domestic Lead may you ever take part is sexual gratification with another Superior. You are a Housewife, not a public Fuckdoll. Unless your Domestic Lead calls for you being that kind of support pillar, you are not to activley engage in any kind of activity in that manner with others.

Servitute is a delicate balance of responsibility, duty, and attention. It is not only about putting your best foot foward but letting your Superiors take lead in the 'dance' and follow along step for step. It starts with learning your Superiors, building that relationship foundation, and ultimetly growing. Be the Housewife that you want your Lead to brag about.

#housewife #stepford wife #stepfordization #stepford cuckoos #the stepford wives #Submisive #Keep sweet #subjugation #1950s housewife #traditional femininity #traditional gender roles #traditional wife #traditionalism #traditional marriage #fiction #degration #degration kink #cuckcake #open relationship

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super-paper · 1 year

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Not "AFO being the final boss undoes all of Tomura's development," or "the body snatching plot line was a last minute decision," but a secret third fourth fifth sixth and seventh thing....

3. ("Weekly manga is an inherently flawed storytelling medium when it comes to telling cohesive stories, and authors are often required to stretch their main plot points thin over hundreds of chapters/several years. When you sit down to analyze or critique MHA, I sincerely feel you need to take the restriction of its medium/genre as well as the restrictions on the artist into consideration. One must also consider that this is a story that has been written over the course of a decade-- A certain degree of "mutation" between the story's beginning and its ending is both acceptable & anticipated within this medium.")

4. ("That being said, Hori does consistently do a much better job of telling a coherent story with consistent themes than people give him credit for, and credit should be given where it's due-- while there are some poorly/hastily implemented narrative elements and plot points where it can be argued that Hori decided to change gears, they are not the story-breaking sins that people make them out to be. And ultimately, Tomura's possession does work as a natural progression of the story Hori is attempting to tell and as something that builds off and solidifies the themes established throughout MHA.")

5. ("Tomura's arc is that of a victim trapped in the cycle of abuse told through a lens of fantasy. He was always a victim of AFO and always someone who had his identity abused out of him, and the body-snatch plotline is just a variation of telling that story in a way that leaves no room for argument. Tomura's arc and Izuku's arc also foil and build off each other, and a lot of the misunderstandings I've seen re: MHA's trajectory come from fans who either disregard Izuku's arc in favor of fixating on Tomura's arc (or vice versa) instead of reading these arcs as two parts of a whole-- both arcs grapple with "identity" and how you define yourself vs how others try to define you, the romanticization of self-destructive traits and how it's necessary to have good social support and people who are willing to step in and stop you from hurting yourself, systemic and individual dehumanization, adults failing to protect them when they need it, valid anger and an intolerance for injustice being taken advantage of a twisted into something intensely self-destructive, etc. Ignoring Izuku's arc and how it both reflects and intertwines with Tomura's (& vice versa) means missing out on understanding the core of both characters and what their respective roles in this narrative is. TL;DR Tomura being a victim in need of saving and Izuku being the one in a position to save him is something that has been cooking since Tomura's debut at USJ *more on this later*")

6. ("Hori started off not wanting to give his villains any humanizing qualities because he wanted them to remain "scary" to his readers-- but it's fairly clear that he developed a sense of appreciation and sympathy for his villains as his story progressed and his ability as a writer developed. As a direct result of this, his story eventually grew beyond treating the LOV as hollow tools to "scare" the readers. Hori grew, and so did MHA. The trajectory of the story changing to reflect Hori's growth should not be treated as a bad thing bc, again, this change/growth does not actually violate the initial premise of MHA in an unforgiveable way-- it actually services the natural progression of the story and its characters.")

7. ("Saving Tomura and the LOV is the ultimate goal of the series, and that goal is built off of literally everything Hori has established up to this point. You will never find inner peace or enjoy the manga's good qualities if you keep agonizing over what could have been. Reacting to the manga as a whole on a week-to-week basis will only skew your understanding of the story as a whole. Et cetera Et cetera Et cetera.")

#sophie.txt #this kinda turned into more of a rant abt how the fandom treats-slash-engages with hori but w/e it needed to be said #you can definitely critique problematic and tone-deaf aspects of his story. it's conductive to a healthy fandom--#-- to know why and explain why certain aspects of a story or treatments of a character need to be critiqued #but a lot of the complaints i'm seeing across reddit/tumblr/twitter are detached from reality in a bad and needlessly cruel way #like. people also have to consider that hori introduced a lot of characters and plot elements back when he was a lot /healthier/#him rushing to wrap side plots up or side fights to focus on the main stuff is also not the story breaking sin people make it out to be #tbh it really does feel like mha is a lot of people's first manga bc half the stuff they complain about is par the course for the medium #like ya'll legit won't know what true suffering is until you become a fan of yoshihiro togashi's works 😔

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birgittesilverbae · 1 year

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endure thou therefore hardship

cw: mention of domestic abuse

i. who hath chosen him

You can't remember a time when you could stand tall, before you had been buckled beneath the weight of a load too large for your young shoulders. Your mere presence to blame for a family unit shattering, for the departure of a woman who looks upon you and feels nothing. Your own actions to blame for the bruises that long blanket your ribs and your back and every inch of your skin that can be covered by clothing. Your disinterest to blame for the whispers that spread behind you in the halls of a Department of Defense school you've never quite felt at home in. You're to blame, you're to blame, you're to blame.

The litany of blame only lightens when you step into the church on base, tucked into the back of the installation. You while away your evenings there alongside the chaplain, growing tall enough that your feet no longer dangle above the floor when you settle into one of the folding chairs that stand in for pews. Alan, the latest in a long line of chaplains, is always slow to hide his grin when you carry the chairs in ungainly stacks and rest them in neat ranks against the back of the hall. He sits with you as you struggle gamely through biology and calculus, chemistry and history. There's a keenness to his eyes, an interest in his gaze, that makes you feel accepted here, in this quiet space where you can shelter from the whirlwind of rage that haunts your home.

His quiet, steady voice – so much at odds with the barks of every teacher who seemingly aspires to become a drill sergeant – directs you to prayer, to supplication, to stain your lips with the crimson of His blood, and you find peace in those moments in which you can finally hear yourself think. You are so used to living with eyes downturned that it doesn't feel a burden to lower your head in prayer. It feels a relief to know that you are not alone, even in your isolation.

Your backpack is light, containing only a binder with an essay you've left almost to the last minute, when you duck your head into Alan's office to give your greetings. He is not alone, and confusion spikes up and down your spine when he gestures towards you and introduces you to a full-on nun. Wimple and all. You've grown too used to Alan in his fatigues or his dress uniform, can't remember the last time you'd seen him in his robes of office – the Easter services, maybe – and thus the contrast between the pair of them is all the more stark. Alan with the top buttons of his fatigues undone in concession to the heat while this black-robed crow perches opposite him without even a bead of sweat on her face.

The confusion only grows, as confusion so often does for you, with the continuance of conversation. An offer of something that's never quite stated outright, the way your fingers trace the margin of a bruise but never press at its centre. An opportunity to take a combat-oriented role in… something. An affiliation to the Church, the proper noun always evident in the stating of it.

You've drifted from Mainline Protestant to Evangelical to Catholic with the rotation of chaplains through the base, none of them striking any particular chord with you beyond the one strummed by the offering of religion as refuge. Face to face with a steely-eyed nun of the Catholic capital-c Church, you feel a sudden surge of belief that this is where you are meant to be. That all your burdens have brought you to this moment, to this offering of escape from the only path you'd felt left open to you.

(You've never had the grades for university, and you've heard often enough that art is not a viable option. But you have a body, and what better use for it than to lay it on the line for a country you've experienced only in brief snapshots of time, a week long vacation here, a funeral there. If that's all you're good for, then it will be no trial for you to pile more dirt upon the root of that disinterest in boys you've already so easily buried.)

You have a body, and you are being offered another use for it.

You grab hold with both hands and hang on tight.

#warrior nun #mywn #myfic #shannon masters #cw domestic violence #dicking around with 2nd person as a writing exercise and I am not enjoying it #babea au #technically #just haven't got around to there yet lmao

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aestherians · 9 months

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Hero's Lament

Inspired by Vyt's "Archetropy" panel and Rani's "On Questioning An Archetrope" essay

Word count: ~600 Estimated reading time: 4-5 minutes

What is a hero? Someone fights for glory, fame, and wealth? Someone who fights for the greater good? An idol or icon? A humblebragger? Someone who saves cats stuck in trees and never speaks a word about their deeds?

Yes.

Yes, all of that, and more.

'The Hero' is an archetype as old as humanity itself, and it speaks to desires that live in all humans (and nonhumans raised by humans). To be loved, to not live in fear, to aspire for something better, whatever that may be. To make the world a bit better.

The Hero is a paradox; a walking contradiction. Her greatest desire is peace, yet she lives and breathes conflict. What will the Hero do when the war is won? Find a new fight? Or stop being a hero?

Life is one conflict after another, and I complain when I can't get a moment's rest - one issue is solved, two more take its place, like Heracles battling Hydra. Except, the Hero doesn't win when he kills the Hydra. He becomes restless, aimless, pointless. What do you do when the quest has ended, but 'questing' is in your blood and bones?

I complain about my endless battles, but peace leaves me frazzled, more than anything. When I'm at war, my existence has a point - when I'm at war, I can rest in my existence. When I'm at war, I know my role, and my endless search for a unified identity takes a break.

When the Hero is at war, the Hero is at peace.

What, then, does the Hero fight for? Not for the greater good, but for self-fulfillment? That is the original meaning of the word:

A hero is a real person or a main fictional character who, in the face of danger, combats adversity through feats of ingenuity, courage, or strength. [...] The original hero type of classical epics did such things for the sake of glory and honor. Post-classical and modern heroes, on the other hand, perform great deeds or selfless acts for the common good instead of the classical goal of wealth, pride, and fame. The antonym of hero is villain. "Hero," Wikipedia, retrieved today

What sets classical heroes and villains apart is not our motive - we are both just fulfilling our nature. What sets us apart is outsiders' interpretations of us. We are classified, less by our drives and desires and our actual feelings, and more by how strangers like or dislike us.

What makes me a 'hero' is not my drive to act. It's my desire to be liked. My fear of being disliked. Like the villain, I crave conflict in life, but unlike the villain, I only join conflicts where I have decent chance of coming out the other side looking good.

But it comes at a cost. Can you believe it? That concerning yourself with being appealing to others, and with joining the conflicts others want you to join, has a cost?

The Hero is an idol. The Hero fights, because fighting is her lifeblood, but the Hero fights for others, because simply joining random street fights won't win you any love or fortune. And because the Hero fights for others' sake, the Hero is idolized. And idols don't have personhood.

The Hero reduces himself to an object, because being a well-like object still beats being a maligned villain. The Hero sacrifices autonomy for acceptance. Heroes don't exist without idolatry and objectification, in the most basic sense of the words. The Hero may as well be a helpful footstool.

But at least, at last, the Hero is liked.

#fictionkind #otherkin #archetrope #ben rambles #deliberately leaving this essay open to interpretation

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gayleviticus · 4 months

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people can take and twist arguments about how being non-LGBT-affirming causing suffering is OK bc christian life is about taking up your cross and denying yourself and blah blah blah, and it can become a bit of a dead-end arguing with people who while looking do not see and while hearing do not listen, but to take it a bit further, i think that like,

ok, we can admit the importance of carrying your cross. nobody is an absolutist on this issue; nobody (reasonable) thinks that we should avoid activism and fighting for a noble cause and protecting others just because we ourselves might suffer in the process, we can all agree noble sacrifices to protect others' lives are good. on the other hand, nobody (reasonable) thinks self-harm is inherently good because its noble endurance of suffering.

but that's thinking about it from a personal perspective, where *I* need to accept my suffering to glorify God. what about in terms of a 'how do we treat others?' perspective? The NT places extensive emphasis on the importance of living by the Spirit, of becoming more like God in our love and care for one another, and of developing the fruits of the Spirit against which there is no law. So it seems to me that God is invested in people developing morality through deepening in virtue and attentiveness to others' struggles and suffering, *not* in people's ability to exegete texts. Texts inform our understanding of what's right for sure (1 Timothy iirc says scripture provides 'training in righteousness'), but God is looking for ability to love others and will their good. God wants us to develop our instincts for doing to others as we would have them do to us, our instincts for being sensitive to others' suffering and for loving others even when we can rationalise it away like the men in the Good Samaritan story who let their own countryman die.

Now with this in mind, the way I see it is - if homosexuality is wrong, then God has set up a situation where he actively wants to damage our moral intuitions. The God who normally wants us to defend the needy and the oppressed, to live by the Golden Rule, to seek love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control, the God who is Love, which we know to be patient and kind, that does not envy or boast or dishonour others or seek its own good, that always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres - that guy has decided, actually, just this once, you guys need to be willing to do to others what you wouldn't have them to do to you, and accept people's pain and suffering, and in fact dismiss it either as LGBT people just fishing for sympathy points or a sad inevitable fact of life. Job's comforters are no longer heretics who spoke wrongly of God, but role models.

Now to be honest, that actually seems crueller than the idea God makes some people gay and then condemns them to lifelong celibacy. It's almost as if God has set some kind of sinister trap to catch people out in their sinful urges of sympathy for others and kindness and compassion. Does it make sense for God, in seeking to sanctify and make us loving and good and holy, to set up a situation where the right choice is to endorse other people's suffering and alienation from God out of fidelity to specific rules? Does it make sense that the one who, when asked the greatest commandment, offered two instead - to love God and to love your neighbour - would now insist actually, loving God means not loving your neighbour in this case?

You can disagree with this, of course. Lots of people would be perfectly fine with the idea that God is deliberately giving us a painful dilemma to show that in the end, no matter what, we obey God even if it means hurting others - appealing to Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac, perhaps, although we forget then that the centrepoint of that story is discovering that God, unlike idols and demons, never truly wanted that of anyone in the first place.

Or perhaps it's not God's fault, but it's just that of the Devil and dealing with moral dilemmas is part of a fallen world. I can see some logic here; we don't want to reduce all our moral problems to 'if one thing is bad, the other must automatically be good.' But at the end of the day it seems a ghastly vision of what God wants for us.

#christian #christianity #queer christian #gay christian #religion

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wortsandall · 2 months

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the lies we tell ourselves (a moon knight au)

ive got moon knight brain rot so i actually have an almost outline for a two part moon knight series which is an exploration of the moon knight system dynamics and how that might change if they realize there's more than just the three of them with a tiny sprinkle of meet the avengers...(very small i want to focus on character and introspection and the avengers would be more of a vehicle for that)

basically i created two more alters, one based on an idea that briefly showed up in moon knight comics-a child alter-and a teen alter.

i wanted to explore dissociative identity disorder alter roles as well so in this, they fall into what I think would be fitting:

Marc Spector-host

Steven Grant- physical caretaker and emotional protector

Jake Lockley- gatekeeper and physical protector

Rose (child alter)- trauma holder

Leo (teen alter)-prosecutor -> caretaker arc

i've had this idea in my head for months but once I started reading the comics it started to solidify. i wanted to explore marc's idea that they are broken. that idea pops up over and over again in the comics. he's being told over and over that he is broken and there is nothing that could fix him. he keeps going back to this idea that if he can make himself "whole" it would somehow make him less broken before realizing that he needs to embrace steven and jake. and i love that.

but i wanted to show the struggle of having to embrace steven and jake as well as coming to terms that he isn't broken. instead of embracing the fact the he is, i think it'd be interesting to see him learn that he's faced a lot of trauma, sure, but he isn't broken. he works the way that he is. in fact he even thrives when he accepts that this is his reality. he may work differently than other people but thats okay.

add in his control issues and its clear how difficult of a conclusion that would be for him to make. so the first part of this "more than 3 alters au" would be about jake. i think jake would be something he'd have trouble accepting. he's still in that journey to realizing that he's not as broken as everyone keeps telling him, that there's nothing to fix. he's come to terms with steven, that's easy for him. he's always known steven. but jake? who in the show he's only seen in violent moments? someone unpredictable. i think that visible loss in the façade he's been trying to cultivate would be very hard.

and i love angst. so i cant help but think about that struggle that marc would already have with jake. only for that peace he'd brokered with jake to cause an avalanche of other things he didn't want to think about to fall on his head. that's what the second part of would about- this lie of control finally completely falling apart. the realization that there's more that you've been hiding about yourself. enter the other two alters and what they've experienced causing marcs view to crack even further. i want to challenge the idea that steven was the first alter. i want him to confront that what he did to steven, hiding things and creating false memories, could've been done to him too.

i don't believe that you can come to the conclusion that you aren't broken, that nothing needs fixing, if you don't first know/confront yourself and your truth. and i think marc needs to do that. and im going to make him. so the first part will be almost exclusively about marc, written in his pov. and the second part will switch pov between all of them but the main ones will be steven, marc, and jake.

*any other thoughts, brain rots and/or updates will be in my tlwto au tag*

#tlwto au #this was meant to be an introduction to an au #then i just started rambling about marc at the end #moon knight thoughts #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #my writing

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rhapsodynew · 30 days

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"Buddy you're a boy, make a big noise"

Freddie Mercury performs "We Will Rock You" on Superman's shoulders during the Crazy Tour, 1979

It's hard to believe now, but then critics did not greet the single with the songs "We Are The Champions" and "We Will Rock You" too favorably. For example, the British weekly New Musical Express wrote sarcastically:

"It sounds like it was specially recorded for football fans all over the country to become a gallery hit. Not a bad idea for a bunch of dumbasses."

Well, QUEEN did not consider their listeners stupid and, indeed, they specifically wrote these songs in the expectation of joint performance with the public.

The idea itself was born during the band's performance in Birmingham. When the musicians went backstage for a while, they heard the crowd suddenly sing the old stadium anthem of the band GERRY & THE PACEMAKERS "You'll Never Walk Alone" — as if calling QUEEN for an encore. That's when guitarist Brian May thought: and why shouldn't they compose a song that the audience could sing along with them? And not only to sing, but also to accompany yourself with the help of all available means — that is, hands and feet.

Brian May:

"'We Will Rock You' was a natural response to that stage in QUEEN's career when the audience began to play a bigger role at our concerts than ourselves. They started singing all the songs. And in places like Birmingham, they were so loud that we had to stop and let them sing for us. Then Freddie and I both came up with the idea to write a special song in which the audience could participate with us."

At first, the refrain of the song sounded like "We Will Beat You", but Freddie thought it was too much and replaced it with "We Will Rock You". We have it, as soon as they don't translate it — "We will shake you", "We will rock you", "We will show you" and even "We will crush you". One thing is clear — we are talking about its incredible and threatening power and "coolness". But judging by the text, the QUEENS reacted to this boastful refrain with great irony, if not mockery.

youtube

Hince Peter "Unknown QUEEN. My life with the greatest rock band of the 20th century":

"Since technically the house did not belong to him yet and he did not have the keys, we were allowed to use only the territory, but not the house itself. In my opinion, you couldn't even go to the toilet…

There were deep snowdrifts on the ground, and the weather was very dank and cold, which, of course, did not please Fred. During the set preparation and between takes, Fred warmed up with brandy glasses, hiding in his Rolls-Royce, conveniently parked in the driveway. He wanted to put on at least some gloves, but there were no gloves or a cloakroom attendant. As a joke, I offered him the gloves in which I loaded the equipment. Standard for a stylish technician of that time: American rodeo gloves made of light beige soft leather and a drawstring to tighten them on the wrist. [...] My gloves were terribly dirty, with fingers taped with tape and a large inscription in black felt-tip pen "RATTY" – so that there was no doubt who they belonged to. Fred gratefully accepted my offer and put them on for the shoot."

The British version of the single was released on October 7, 1977, with "We Will Rock You" on the B—side and "We Are the Champions" on the first. Therefore, formally, "We Are the Champions" was considered a hit, which reached the 2nd place in Britain.

But on the American single, both sides were labeled as "Side A", and many radio stations played both songs at once - one after the other. And the first one was "We Will Rock You".

Pretty quickly, "We Will Rock You" became a folk song, it was often performed on any solemn mass occasion - especially at sports competitions. May even got emotional about this and said:

"It's so nice to see that your song has become an element of folklore. Now I can die in peace."

youtube

After Mercury's death in 2000, May and Taylor recorded a version of "We Will Rock You" together with the boy band FIVE (No. 1 in Britain).

youtube

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nymphoheretic · 1 year

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˜”°•.˜”°• The Rules/BYF/BYI •°”˜.•°”˜

I was @/kxkyuu, so when I repost my fics please don't be alarmed its me! Please use my new pseudo on tumblr.(discord/moots can still call me by old pseudo).

★·.·´¯`·.·★General Guidelines★·.·`¯´·.·★

The most important rule to know is: This blog is strictly 18+. What does that mean? That means no minors/ageless/blank blogs are allowed to follow or interact with my posts. Your age must be in your bio pinned post, carrd, somewhere I can easily see it. I will not hunt through your blog for your age. If I suspect that you are a minor, I reserve the right to block you for my own safety and peace of mind.

Examples of acceptable age indicators: 20s, 21+, adult

Examples of unacceptable age indicators: +18, not a minor, DM for age

If you are uncomfortable with having your age on your blog, please either DM or send me an ask off Anon. It will not be posted.

★·.·´¯`·.·★DNI★·.·`¯´·.·★

Do not Interact:

1. If you do not fit the basic DNI criteria

2. Are Anti-LGBTQ+

3. Support or glorify EDs

4. Anti-aging up/Baji Purists

Everything that I write is depicted as fictional and the characters I write in adult situations are considered to be adults.

5. Against Dark Content

This blog supports and contains Dark content. If that makes you uncomfortable, then this blog is not for you.

6. If you cannot differentiate fiction from reality. It is not my job to tell you that this is fandom, not canon. When I am writing, thirsting, or otherwise simping over a character, I am not imagining them as their canonical age. I am imagining them either my age or older. If you cannot understand that, then my blog is not for you. I will not argue with you over fictional characters.

★·.·´¯`·.·★Roleplaying and Charanons★·.·`¯´·.·★

I simply love roleplaying!! If you ever wish to mod for me, a huge thank you!! All I ask that if you are not my mutual, to send me and an ask with your age, again it will not be posted, for my own peace of mind and safety before continuing. I am okay with both sfw and nsfw role plays. Please visit my aethestics rp blog @itskireibabie if you wish to rp with me!(DC roleplays must be redirected to my Rp Blog @darkkakyuu) I am pansexual so any charanon or fluster anon is welcomed.

★·.·´¯`·.·★Interactions★·.·`¯´·.·★

Interactions are very much welcomed! Please do not be afraid to come talk to me! I am not a mean person at all! Feel free to DM me, send thirsts to my ask box, play tag/ask games with me, tell me about your day. Whatever you want and I will get back to you as soon as I can! All I ask that if you are going to vent in my ask box is to use the proper trigger warnings and not just drop them on me unexpectedly.

★·.·´¯`·.·★Writing★·.·`¯´·.·★

I only write x Reader fics and most of the time it is either GN!reader or AFAB!reader. I try to keep everything inconclusive to descriptive features but, as I am a black content creator, some of my work will be black coded or tagged as Black!reader. You are still welcomed to read it, but know that I wrote that with a black woman in mind.

As stated earlier, all characters are assumed to be in their mid to late twenties.

Although I do not consider myself a dark content creator, my blog may contain dark content or I will reblog dark content. If this makes you uncomfortable, then please do not engage in these fics. All I want is for you to respect me as a writer and those who choose to consume it.

Hard kinks will always be tagged according as well as anything that could be potentially triggering. To further protect yourself the tag tw [topic] will be used in my tagging system. Please feel free to block those trigger tags. Also if I ever miss a trigger, please do not hesitate to tell me and I will fix it immediately.

Exceptions: only when writing blurbs for a moot will I ever dip my toe into the trans community. I don't want to step on anyone's toes and I know this moot personally and he won't feel affected if I mess something up.

★·.·´¯`·.·★Dark Content★·.·`¯´·.·★

Although I am not a Dark Content creator, I do write it in some fashions. I am in not way responsible if you do not heed the warnings and by clicking the read more you are agreeing to be exposed to the following content.

Dark content I write: Yandere, toxic relationships, hybrids, various harder kinks, stepcest

Dark content I will not write: incest, pedophilia, necrophilia, zoophilia, scat, piss, or vomit.

★·.·´¯`·.·★Selfships★·.·`¯´·.·★

I do selfship with alot of characters, but my main ones are Kyoujuro Rengoku, Keisuke Baji, Itachi Uchiha, Yuuji Itadori, Shouto Todoroki, and Katsuki Bakugou. What this means that I will post my selfship art (please do not relog without permission) and my own selfship fanfics. These fics are of my own self-indulgence and will have my own descriptive features. I also write selfships fics for my mutuals. If you feel offended by this when I say that what I just is a selfship fic, just know that I do not care. That is for me and I only posted it as a x reader fic.

★·.·´¯`·.·★Requests★·.·`¯´·.·★

I do take requests, but only when they are open and only 3 slots. It takes me a while and my hyper fixations jump from one anime to the next or I may forget about it, If you request something when my requests are closed it will be taken as a suggestion or inspiring idea that may or may not get written.

But, thirsts are always welcomed! I may or may not write a very short little blurb or it may turn into a ficlet? Depends on my time and if I vibe with it.

★·.·´¯`·.·★Copyrights★·.·`¯´·.·★

Everything I write is property of me. I do not give anyone permission to alter, copy, translate, or promote my work on any other platform, especially tiktok. If you see my work on a different site other than tumblr or AO3, please notify me immediately.

#nymph.rules♡

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