#there's all this pressure to make things look pretty even when it's just a standard conversation in a standard location you know

[cleo-fox]

Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable. 

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

*

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest. 

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands  make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x you smut #loki x yn smut #loki imagine

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts. 

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her. 

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were. 

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you. 

“Potter” you smirked. 

“Going to the match today?” 

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him. 

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall. 

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended. 

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted. 

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you. 

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted. 

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate. 

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag. 

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled. 

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?” 

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates. 

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused. 

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate. 

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain. 

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said. 

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?” 

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked. 

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously. 

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged. 

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?” 

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate. 

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious. 

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added. 

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused. 

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended. 

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!” 

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?” 

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy. 

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?” 

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled. 

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor. 

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly. 

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face. 

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed. 

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you. 

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged. 

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented. 

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled. 

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James. 

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you. 

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said. 

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?” 

“Okay, fair” you sighed. 

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress. 

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her. 

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you. 

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup. 

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said. 

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little. 

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled. 

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled. 

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?” 

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little. 

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered. 

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly. 

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled. 

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm. 

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first. 

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you. 

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked. 

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him. 

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!” 

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted. 

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him. 

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-” 

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated. 

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you. 

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him. 

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?” 

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said. 

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little. 

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted. 

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added. 

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden. 

“Nothing” Remus quickly said. 

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?” 

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself. 

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously. 

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink. 

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes. 

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him. 

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets.  You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well. 

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you. 

“Oh” you smiled wearily. 

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said. 

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head. 

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved. 

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside. 

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused. 

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused. 

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added. 

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off. 

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added. 

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.  

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you. 

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink. 

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window. 

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around. 

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you. 

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little. 

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?” 

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself. 

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little. 

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?” 

“Of course I did” he chuckled. 

“James” you glared at him. 

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you. 

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed. 

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged. 

“James!” you laughed. 

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted. 

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed. 

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way. 

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?” 

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?” 

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning. 

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious. 

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly. 

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted. 

“But how can you not believe me about that?” 

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink. 

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?” 

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush. 

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?” 

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly. 

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop. 

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile. 

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus. 

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously. 

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained. 

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips. 

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

#marauders #marauders imagine #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #sirius black x sister!reader #regulus black x sister!reader #james potter oneshot

[auspicioustidings]

https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would. 

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office. 

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed. 

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you. 

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing. 

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough. 

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby. 

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping. 

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid. 

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby. 

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back. 

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you? 

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?” 

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing. 

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #well at least the implication is a slow burn in which they do fall in love #they just do it all very out of order #baby > marriage > moving in > sleeping together > dating #Soap is gonna be pissed

[femsolid]

“We’re in 2019. Female hair is CENSORED everywhere. You don’t see it on TV. You don’t see it in magazines or adverts. There is an injunction of society for women to remain 'soft' and completely hairless. Just like a little girl. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. Young, skinny, hairless girls have been very popular in the media for years and it makes me wonder. Who's behind it all? Who's perpetuating this message about women looking like adolescent girls? It sometimes feels rather paedophilic. It worries me.” – Camille Alexander. Musician (2019)

“Years ago I did think about getting laser hair removal for my navel hair, but then I realised I'd be paying a couple of hundred pounds just to conform to expectations that I don't even care about– I'd much rather use the money for a holiday or circus lessons! I think that's one of the things which annoys me so much about society and the media's expectation for women to be basically hairless– they're pressuring us to invest serious time and money and endure pain. It's a double standard and it's unfair. Being able to accept your body– hair, scars and all– is freeing. I remember seeing my Aunt Glynis dancing to reggae in the 90s with her armpit hair showing– she looked so confident, happy and free. As a child, I couldn't put my finger on 'why', but I can now. On a practical level, it feels pretty darn good when I consider how much time, money and pain I've saved by accepting my body as it is. I like to think that that memory of my aunt being free and totally comfortable in her own skin is one that I can emulate and pass onto other girls and women. It hasn't always been received well though. At Lambeth County Fair one year, a friend of a friend was seriously freaked out when he saw my armpits. He asked me "what's wrong with you? Why would you do that?!", which was pretty amusing but bewildering. It reminded me there will always be people out there who may react and judge me like that. Thankfully, the opinion of people who think like that means very little to me! For me having hair and not caring is a bit like being part of a secret club. When you notice someone else who is resisting society's expectations and staying hairy you feel solidarity and respect. It's nice to be part of that.” – Isabel (2019)

“As a teenager, I remember trying to stuff myself into a box of what a girl should be like. It always felt uncomfortable; padded bras, shoes that hurt and shaving rash. Running, swimming and climbing have helped me to see the strength and resilience in my body and to love it for what it is. Growing my armpit hair has been a recent experiment and the longer it gets, the more I like it! I like the way it looks & feels. It has given me a new respect for myself. So I say, embrace growth & if it pleases you, let it all grow!” – Jess (2018)

“Shaving, epilating or waxing hurts. I was tired of suffering, trying to adapt to the image of a ‘beautiful young woman’ society is selling us. Everybody told me to shave. As a teenager, it’s a huge subject among girls; where do you shave? What method are you using? It takes so much time and costs so much money (the majority of hair removal products are also not recyclable). All of these reasons coming one after another motivated me to stop shaving. I would often have irritated skin after shaving and being a very sporty person, the sweat and the friction of my clothes would cause pain.The worst thing was having sex on the second day after shaving my vulva. I didn't understand why women would suffer and waste so much time on hiding who they really are. By showing my body hair on stage, I would like to stimulate and change people’s point of view. I’d like to motivate women to make their own choices.”

– Darian Koszinski. Circus artist (2018)

“I stopped shaving completely when I was a teenager because of two instances. The first? I got tired of all the time wasted on maintenance and the discomfort that came with it. The second was when I went on a few multiple week-long backpacking trips; it would have been extremely inconvenient to spend hours ripping my hair out, so I let things grow. Being so close to nature let me dive deeper into and re-examine the relationship with myself and the world, acting as a mirror. In nature, there is wild; it is as beautiful as it is untamed. How could it be anything other than that? I felt so relieved and free when I let it grow out. It felt like being able to breathe. It was incredibly comfortable too. I felt a confidence and boldness returning, like I was replenishing some kind of primal power. I will say that a very pleasant side effect of having armpit hair is its ability to ward off rude people whom I wouldn’t care to interact or associate with anyway. Because the people that care about that sort of thing and make it a point to say how disgusted they are, are precisely the kind of people that I don’t want in my life.”

– Kyotocat (2017)

“At this point in life, I feel that the real question shouldn't be 'why did you let your armpit hair grow?' But actually, 'why did you shave in the first place?' Please celebrate your body! Own who you are and be that! Those who celebrate who and what they are, are creating a much open and safer space for those who are struggling to understand who and what they want to be in life. It might be easier said than done but give it a try. We'll then help create a healthier and understanding society with less bullshit than there already is...”

– Alex Wellburn (2017)

“I never stopped shaving because I never started. I do remember my mother shaving when I was younger and I thought that was pretty unnecessary since she was a strict muslim. I later realised it's a thing women do to look more desirable to men. It really irritated me that the people who reacted negatively to my natural armpit hair were men. Like it was the most disgusting thing in the world. It really gets on my tits. This is just one more reason that I don't shave it off. It belongs to me and I don't make noise about the "ugly"; hair on men which are sometimes pretty painful in the eye... But you've got to get over it and don't let these idiots get under it. I would recommend growing it to any women.”

– Ayan Mohamed. Graduate architecture student (2014)

Natural Beauty Photoshoot

#gnc

[skellymom]

"I'M YOUR MAN"

Hunter x Jedi Fem Reader Supporting Character. SMUTTY++

Background: This one shot starts out very similar to my "Hunt and Peck" one shot. However, it's not just a Force Sensitive, but an actual Jedi. And, his Batchmates aren't in on the shenanigans. This is the VERY dirty version of "Hunt and Peck" but Hunter goes "solo".

I wanted to write a smutty fic from INSIDE Hunter's head space. We hardly ever really know what's going on in there. Well, now you do!

Word Count: 2.1K

WARNING: Male masturbation, oral sex, genital sex, spit kink, swearing kink, dirty word kink, praise kink, names of various sexual positions, bodily fluids, lots of dirty nasty sexy stuff. Lots of it. Very LEMONY content! 

The Batch finished up their latest mission, picking up a new passenger along the way.  Y/N was a Jedi hitching a ride to a planet they would be passing on the way to Kamino.  She would only be staying a few standard days on the Marauder, and the crew made sure she had a comfortable stay. 

Within two days Hunter was smitten.  He usually kept his infatuations to himself as best he could...ESPECIALLY with female Jedi.  But...well, this one was different...and difficult to ignore.  Of course, he still engaged with her politely and respectfully.  Being a Sergeant and host on this transport, he kept some distance. 

Y/N was attractive.  Not conventionally, as he wouldn’t consider himself attracted to just ANY pretty face.  But she had that...thing.  An essence?  Something that just took him out at the knees.  It was elusive... 

...and she smelled SO GOOD.  Hell, even when she was sweaty, dirty, just got woke up in the morning...heady scent of her body odor with the slightest tang of her sex... 

Hunter shifted in the pilot’s seat.  His armor codpiece felt tight.  Dammit, he NEEDED to stop getting distracted.  He was supposed to be sitting watch on the ship. 

Technically Echo was to stand this shift.  However, he was under the weather and now lying down like the rest of his brothers. 

Hunter could hear Crosshair breathing, Echo’s ticking mechanical heart, and smell Tech’s drool...as he slept face down with mouth open.  Wreckers' snores were like a power tool, until his sleep apnea kicked in. Hunter would count the seconds unconsciously holding his own breath too...until Wrecker finally inhaled. 

Hunter inhaled deeply just thinking about it... 

...until Y/N sighed in her sleep.  The sound brought his attention back to the heat and tightness in his groin.  Hunter’s cock was now becoming painful with an intense pressure against his codpiece. 

Oh STARS!  How did the other Clones deal with this???  Commander Bly following Aayla Secura around while she exposed all that beautiful blue skin.  Or Deepa Billoba with her pretty braids and deep scarlet lips... 

...then there was his first crush: Shaak Ti.  A tall stunning Togruta with her long montrals and head tails. 

DANK FERRICK!  Y/N did look at him a lot and smiled. He could sense her body reacting to him MUCH differently than his brothers.  The thrumming of her presence on his senses.  Something he guessed was her Force sensitivity.  It would tickle his nerve endings and make him shiver...in a VERY good way.  Was Y/N flirting with the Force?  Hunter wasn’t exactly sure.  Was that even ALLOWED? 

Hunter ripped the codpiece off and tossed it onto the Marauder’s dash.  His girthy engorged cock staining through his blacks...and leaving a wet spot.   

These Jedi women are going to be the death of me! 

Who was he kidding...WOMEN drove him crazy!!! 

The last thing Hunter wanted was to cause any trouble...especially with a Jedi. 

He had to take care of this situation...and put IT to “rest” ...NOW. 

Walking back to the refresher wasn’t an option.  He didn’t want to wake anyone, and he was supposed to be on watch. 

Listening again, Hunter could perceive everyone was asleep and accounted for.  He slid down comfortably in the pilot’s chair.  Noting that Tech left one of his hand rags for mechanical maintenance hanging up in the cockpit, Hunter grabbed it for clean up later. 

Looking around and listening one last time, Hunter gently rolled down his blacks and released his cock.  Its meaty girthiness sprung up at attention.  Uncut and big enough to satisfy, but not so large as to be painful.  Poor Wrecker...Hunter thought fleetingly.  So big he must hold back constantly to not injure.  Gotta be stressful.  People would give Hunter shit for being the smallest of the group.  Heh, average ain’t bad.  Especially since he exceeded at technique. 

What was the saying on Kamino?  Yeah...It’s not the size of the ship, but the motion of the ocean. 

The head of his penis peeked out from the uncut foreskin.  Hunter smoothed his thumb through the large drop of precum and rubbed gentle circles on the top of his cock.  He shivered from the sensation but held back a gentle moan.  He needed to be extra quiet.  Keeping his mouth shut, Hunter also regulated his breathing. 

Next, he cupped his cock in hand and gently but firmly pulled back his foreskin.  Then he gave his shaft a few good pumps. 

... A very feminine scent wafted from the pallet Y/N was sleeping on the bunk room floor.  She must have been having a hell of a dream...as Hunter could smell her wet arousal.  To her credit, she was extremely quiet. 

The smell drove him crazy.  More precum leaked from his cock.   

Hunter closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to bury his face in Y/N’s pussy.  He inhaled her scent and pictured himself licking and sucking her clit.  How she would look from that point of view.  Staring up over her mons pubis to see her writhe and sweat.  Hair messed, face and chest flushed as he teased her to orgasm over and over again.  Screaming his name, asking for more.  

FUCK, he LOVED EATING PUSSY!  LOVED watching his lovers lose themselves in ecstasy.  Loved when they praised his talent for the job.   

And, if they wanted to be fingered while he dined, he happily obliged.  Gently of course...unless she insisted on it being rough.  He followed directions very well and kept the channels of communication open.  How many fingers?  How’s that feel?  You like how I’m fingering you?  Tell me.  I wanna hear you tell me.  Yeah...whatever you want.  I’m your man.  Mmmm...You’re so FUCKING beautiful!  

Pumping his cock, occasionally coming up to rub the leaking precum across his head and frenulum with his thumb.  The mental image fueling his desire and the tingling of his penis. 

Hunter also LOVED breasts.  Big, small, he serviced them all.  Lick them, kiss, twist, cup.  But, he wasn’t in a hurry.  No, Hunter wanted to appreciate the other parts of his lover's body and work his way there.   

Nibbling Y/N’s thighs, tender kisses on her stomach.  Women worry too much about their bellies.  Who the fuck made them feel so insecure?  Hunter wasn’t gonna get mad.  He didn’t have time for that.  Bring that belly here and let me worship it.  The asshole that made you feel bad about that part of your body isn’t here...I AM.  Look me right in the eyes.  Yeah, hold that eye contact.  Listen to me.  I’m gonna make your body SING tonight.  I wanna make you feel desirable...’cause you are.  Now, grab my hair if you feel ya gotta hold on tight!  

Pumped his wet cock a bit more... 

AND ASSES!  All sizes.  Firm and jiggly...flat and flabby... 

Fuck the guy who told you your ass wasn’t pretty.  Probably the same dipshit who razzed you about your other body parts. 

I’m here to tell ya:  Your body parts make my cock wanna give you a standing ovation.  I’ll happily kiss ANYTHING on your body, if it’ll get you off.  Even the stuff you might be worried is too nasty and dirty.  I’ll be as clean as you request or dirty as ya care to ask for. 

Hunter needed to stay on track.  All the blood was rushing to his lower extremities, making him a bit punch drunk.  His eyes were half closed with horniness. 

And he needed a bit more lubrication. Hunter leaned over his swollen member and spit on it delicately. The extra slide felt amazing. 

Oh yeah...Hunter was getting ahead of himself.  In his mind Y/N requested he kiss and suckle her breasts. In his mind, she moaned and raked at his back. Mmmmhmm...I wanna hear you. Tell me how much you like this. He moved up to lavish her neck with kisses, grinding his slippery member through her sex. The sound was loud and wet. Smells sooo good. Whispering in her ear, pressing his nose against her cheek You feel so good! FUCK...Hunter shivered, his cock twitching with anticipation. 

Are you ready for me?  Yeah?  Gonna take my time, okay?  I’m in no hurry...unless you WANT me to fuck you hard and put you away wet?  I aim to please.  So swollen and hard right now...could grab you around the legs, hoist ya up, and nail ya silly.  Missionary?  Doggie style?  Cowgirl?  Reverse Cowgirl?  Vertical or Horizonal, I’m strong enough to get ya there.  

No?  Ok.  Just give me the word.  And I’ll take it nice...and easy.  

Hunter slowed down the momentum on his cock.  Stroking gently to prolong his arousal and not cum too soon.    

What about me, you say?  Heh...REALLY enjoying my time with you.  I’m a man of variety.  Whatever you want, I’m along for...ahem...the ride.  However long it takes. 

You wanna suck my cock?  Well...chuckles...I won’t say NO to a good blow.  Just ask you tease me a bit.  He imagined the wet softness of Y/N’s mouth on his member.  Swirling her tongue over his head, shaft... 

...her hand firmly gripping his balls and he gripped them now... 

...pumping his cock...gathering momentum. 

Wanna blow my seed in your cunt, while I’m holding you.  Full body skin on skin contact while I’m inside you.  My uncut foreskin rubbing your pink jellybean clit while my cock caresses your G-spot.  Bonus if I get to taste your mouth while you moan into mine. 

Hunter lifted his pelvis off the seat, bracing his legs and abdomen...adding pressure to his core and the root of his sex.  He slid his cock back and forth through his wet hand, gritting his teeth, and sweating. 

I’ll do EVERYTHING in my power to take you over the edge ONE more time before I do.  I got the stamina to fuck, suck, and caress you all night if it’s what you request of me.  Over and over again. 

I’m YOUR MAN. 

As Hunter came, a very sudden and explosive scream erupted from the bunk room!   

Hunter let go of his scrotum and slapped a hand over his mouth to hold back his violent moans.  An intense, warm orgasm shot through his body. Hunter came SO HARD it hit the ceiling of the Marauder’s cockpit with an audible THUMP! A climax so sudden and strong, he shook and was unable to stand. 

The bunk room erupted in chaos. Wrecker had fallen off the top bunk from sheer terror. Tech started awake and flung his datapad across the room...hitting Crosshair in the head. Only Echo remained unscathed as he slipped unaided by his prosthetics from the bottom bunk to the Jedi’s pallet on the floor. 

He put his one intact arm around the Jedi. “Ma’am, are you ok?” 

She, sweating, flushed, and breathing heavily, “Oh...” stammered, “A dream.” 

“Sounded like a NIGHTMARE!” Wrecker recovered from his fall. 

The Jedi laughed nervously. 

Tech finally found his goggles amongst the bedcovers, slapped them on, and ran to the refresher. “I’ll retrieve a glass of water for our guest.” 

Crosshair rubbed the goose egg developing on his forehead. “Bring a bacta patch while you’re in there too!” 

“Where the HELL is HUNTER???” Echo thundered. 

On command Hunter slid into the bunk room. “What happened? Must have fallen asleep on watch!” 

Echo turned to Hunter “Our Guest gave us quite a scare.” He looked puzzled as Hunter NEVER fell asleep on watch. “Due to a dream.” 

Tech ran in and handed the Jedi a full canteen of water and a small towelette for her sweaty brow.  

“Thank you, Tech.” She dabbed herself and sipped from the canteen...purposely keeping her eyes averted from the Sergeant. 

“Bacta patch?” Crosshair growled at Tech. 

“I ONLY have two hands, Crosshair!” Tech sassed his way back to the refresher. 

“Looking a little FLUSHED too, Hunter. Sure you’re FEELING well? Crosshair sneered. 

Hunter was just about to tell Crosshair to shut his pie hole when the Jedi interrupted. “I... think I’m ready to go back to sleep.” 

“Alright.” Echo got back into his bunk. “You need ANYTHING, we’re right here.” 

“I’m feeling better now.” She sighed.  "Thank you Echo."

Wrecker leaned down and handed Lula to Y/N. “Lula will help you sleep the rest of the night.” 

“Thank you, Wrecker.” 

Crosshair sneered at Hunter who turned to go back to his watch station. 

Tech unpeeled the bacta patch and slapped it over Crosshair’s pie hole, then turned out the lights.

Next morning the Marauder landed at the Jedi’s destination. She thanked The Batch and descended the gangplank. Sergeant Hunter was the last to say goodbye and salute her. 

“I must thank you, btw.” She blushed demurely and smiled. 

Hunter looked confused and glanced to see where his Batchmates were at. They had already retreated into the ship, preparing to leave the planet. 

“Uh...for what?” 

“For being...MY MAN... last night.” 

Hunter blushed crimson red... speechless but had SO MANY questions. 

“I know what you’re thinking Sergeant. Jedi CAN have...relations. They just can’t be possessive attachments. And... technically we never physically touched...” 

She winked and walked away towards her destination. 

And that was how Hunter was literally mind-fucked by a Jedi. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb hunter #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch sergeant hunter #the bad batch smut #the bad batch hunter smut #the bad batch sergeant hunter smut #tbb hunter x reader smut #the bad batch hunter x reader smut #the bad batch sergeant hunter x reader smut #tbb lemony content #the bad batch lemony content #the bad batch hunter lemony content #skellymom #skellymom writes smut #star wars the bad batch smut #im your man #tbb fan fiction #the bad batch fan fiction #tbb hunter fan fiction #the bad batch hunter fan fiction #the bad batch sergeant hunter fan fiction

[r2d2lover]

Cruel Reality

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x f!Reader (Third person insert, Draco's POV)

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy Sex, Fingering, Blowjobs, Draco's POV

Summary:

After a messy breakup, Draco still can't get his mind off of her.

--

Snippet of something that I'd like to turn into a fic one day but I always say that. Crossposted on Ao3!

Draco walked quickly down the corridor, the heat burning in his cheeks becoming unbearable. He couldn’t even hide his frustrated sighs and ran an aggressive hand through his hair. It wasn’t hard to ignore her desperate pleas calling out for Draco to stop. In fact, it made him walk faster, almost to the point of a run. He felt ridiculous for fleeing the dungeon halls and throwing a tantrum, but he felt justified. But at the same time, he knew he really wasn’t. He was the one who broke up with her. He was the one that had to make her hate him. He was the one that decided to be nosy and walk up the stairs to check on the other prefect sectors.

It was a day shy of it being a month since Draco had broken up with his girlfriend, but the time didn’t make the pain pass. He didn’t have the mental capacity to be mad at the forcing hand of his mother in the situation or the festering wound that was the Dark Mark. No, he was more upset that he walked in on his ex-girlfriend and Harry Potter, of all people, practically having sex in the shadows of the castle. Maybe Draco was exaggerating, but its not like he stuck around to figure out why Harry Potter had his ex pinned to the wall with a visible hand running up her sides. Draco couldn’t believe that this was what was getting him worked up. Not the still burning pain in his arm or the insomnia that left him with a permanent headache. He was pretty sure she was only running after him to try and save face. He almost laughed at the idea of her begging him not to report her and Potter that he almost stopped in the middle of the hall to let it happen. Draco didn’t regret his earlier comment about Potter’s sleaziness, but he really didn’t want to try to talk to her because he was sure that he would have an embarrassing breakdown.

Draco decided that he would hide in the bathroom until she gave up and leave when she’d realize that he wasn’t actually going to go to Snape or Filch to report the two. Unfortunately, she had caught up to him right before he reached the bathroom and grabbed his arm to stop him from opening the door, causing him to cringe in an impossible pain from the pressure she was putting on the Mark. Instead of crying out like he wanted to do, he tried his best to suppress a hiss and yank his arm away. 

“Are you going to follow me into the toilet?” Draco instinctively brought his arm across his chest in an attempt to nurse the pain. He felt a little bad for the tone of voice that slipped out of his mouth from the pain, but it fit the image he was going for.

“If that’s what it’ll take for you to listen to me,” She said exasperatedly, looking rightfully concerned at his arm. “Is your arm alr-“

“Look, I’m not going to report you and your… new boyfriend if that’s what you’re worried about,” Draco said as coolly as possible. “Not worth my time.”

“I-“

“But really? Potter? Really lowering your standards, huh?” Draco jabbed, hoping it would do the trick in getting her to leave. She just let out a frustrated cry and pushed Draco up against the wall, shocking him so much that it made him forget about the pain in his arm.

“That’s the only thing you have to say to me? Do you get off on humiliating me? First the Great Hall, now this? If you hate me as much as you told everyone that you do, why can’t you just leave me alone?” She shot back, obviously spewing something she was keeping bottled up for the past month. Draco felt vulnerable, quite literally backed into a corner. He let her puff a bit before pushing off her and pinning her against the wall instead. Her unpleased look reminded Draco of a ruffled cat, making it difficult for him to really be upset.

“Listen, princess,” Draco dropped his voice tauntingly, trying to lock unwavering eye contact. “Don’t get mad at me if you’re dumb enough to decide to shag in the hallways. With Potter, no less.”

“Don’t get mad at situations that you misunderstood,” She saw through Draco’s failed attempt to keep his jealousy at bay. Before he realized how pathetic he probably sounded, he found the warm, artificial taste of strawberries that he had been craving for the past month upon his lips. He wasn’t even sure who made the first move as he tightened a surprised hand around her hair, pulling her in for a deeper kiss like he was starving and going in for another bite of food. Her hands were already interlocked behind his neck, melting his body into hers from the electric feeling running through his veins. Draco’s blind rage was gone, instead replaced by a shameless desperation for more of her. Every plight from the past month dissipated with each kiss he took without breath. In this moment, he didn’t feel guilty for lying to her when they broke up, he didn’t feel any of the familial pressure that plagued his sleep, nor could he even think about why he was angry at her in the first place. 

When she broke the kiss, Draco was temporarily snapped back to the reality where she was supposed to hate him and vice versa. They locked eye contact and without another word, Draco decided to indulge his delusion and quickly pushed her into the boy’s bathroom, muttering a locking spell under his breath. Draco didn’t think that the unspoken agreement would actually pan out, but this time, she definitely made the first move by jumping back into his arms for another kiss that rivaled the one that they just shared in the hallway. He ran his hand through her hair, savoring the missed touch. He slowly moved his hand down to her button down, dragging his fingers over the top few buttons. To his surprise, he freed her breasts easily without the need to discard any extra fabric. Curious, he moved his hand down to the hem of her skirt, brushing it to investigate if she had forgone all of her undergarments. He proved his theory right and realized what it meant. 

“I can’t believe you,” He said breathlessly, moving his lips down to her neck and moving his hand around to cup her ass. “There’s nothing that he could have done to deserve all of this.”

“Stop talking about him,” She pleaded, the desperation in her voice matched by her blind tugging at his belt buckle. Draco should’ve been mad but this empowered him. He smirked at the idea of his longtime enemy slinking back to his room sadly or even better, fruitlessly waiting for her return at the entrance of her common room. Draco dragged a teasing finger over her slit and the growing tent in his pants was almost painful when he realized how wet she was.

“Now, who got you this worked up?” Draco whispered tauntingly, planting another kiss at the nape of her neck.

“Y-You. Ah. You, Draco,” She slurred as Draco inserted a finger. He pressed her against the wall for better support. Her head rocked forward to his chest as her knees started to buckle into his touch. She was pushing him past insanity. He let out a tsk, straightening her back up against the wall to look at him. Draco let out a hiss when she reached around his arm to firmly squeeze his bulge, relieving some of the pressure building in his pants but he couldn’t let it distract him. He added another finger, beginning to fuck her with unrelenting speed as she drew out an incoherent string of his name over and over. For Draco, this was music. He met her mouth again, moving his thumb over his clit. Draco smiled into her lips as she was unable to return the kisses due to her moaning. He felt the familiar feel of her walls starting to clench around his fingers and her breathing quickened to a pant. Draco pressed his forehead against hers, watching her reaction as he removed his fingers to bring her to the same edge of delirium that he was standing on. 

“Draco… Please… I’m so close. I was so close,” She cursed, begging unashamedly. Reality was truly suspended at this moment. Their dynamic remained that same as if they were still dating, as if the last month didn’t happen.

“Be a good girl and you will,” Draco bit his lip as he stared into her look of desperation. He took a small step back and started to undo his belt while she dropped to her knees without instruction and took over. When she set the first lick up his shaft, he barely caught himself on the wall behind her from the surge of lust that almost made him crumble. He tangled his hands in her hair, brushing any pieces away from the front of her face. She let him guide her around him, fighting to keep his composure. “Just… Just like that.”

Draco’s voice was husky from bewilderment. When he hit the back of her throat, he swore he could’ve finished at that moment. He let out a low groan, pulling at her hair. She wasn’t on him for long, but he was afraid of finishing too early. Draco pushed her off softly, rolling his eyes back into his head when she removed her mouth with a pop. He used the grip on her hair to encourage her to stand up, pressing her back firmly against the wall. He removed his hand from her hair and used the same arm to hook underneath her leg, pulling her closer and taking a moment to take a deep breath of her comforting perfume. He used his free hand to undo another button off her top, sliding a wandering hand to her breasts. A soft chorus of “please, Draco” fell from her lips, despite knowing it was best not to beg. She was lucky that he was as impatient as he was. In a swift movement, he slid himself in her slickness, sharing a moan of relief with her. 

Draco let her stay seated for a moment, dizzy from the pleasure and wanting to savor this moment. A quick thought flashed thorough his head that as soon as they were finished, they’d go back to being a burnt-out flame. The worrying thought began to clash with the high of the moment, so he removed his hand from her breast to create a backstop between her head and the stone wall. His first few thrusts created an awkward rhythm that he was trying to build up in order to prolong the moment. Nevertheless, she threw her head forward into the crook of his neck mumbling his name and leaving sloppy kisses where ever she could. He pulled her head back to look at him, drinking in her sinful look of matched pleasure that manifested in drooped eyelids and a cute flush across her cheeks. She reached up and kissed him again, encouraging him to pick up the pace. The messy sounds of skin on skin along her almost melodic moaning created a rhythm that Draco tried to keep up.

“Draco… I’m. so close. Can I- ah! Can I please cum?” Her sweet request was too good to deny. He moved his hand again, this time to draw close, tight circles around her clit and she threw her head back in a wail, sliding down the wall. She pushed her pelvis as close as she practically can, letting out the same hungry pleas from before.

“Cum for me,” Draco crooned, smiling at the formality that she had allowed him and watched hungrily as her eyes rolled with her release. She clenched impossibly tight around him, and he had forgotten how the feeling of her warmth only got better as she finished around him. He teetered on the edge of his own orgasm and she knew that. She lazily leaned her head forward, whispering into his ear.

“Only you fuck me this good,” She drew out. Her filthy words were just what Draco needed and the delirium set in.

“Can I cum in you?” Draco practically begged, his voice just above a whimper. When she breathed out a shaky “yes,” Draco fell in one last thrust before holding her as close as he could and let out a final groan. He wish he could’ve prolonged the high of spilling into her, especially since she was peppering sloppy kissed all over his jaw and cheek. He pulled out and took another deep look into her eyes, matching her heavy breathing. 

Draco helped her clean up and as he was redoing his belt and she was buttoning up her shirt back with the same flush splashed across her cheek, reality came crashing down. He choked down a cough, unable to find anything to say to her. He didn’t know how to answer a “what are we” question if she asked. Instead, her reached out again to cup her face, running a thumb over the apple of her cheek. He managed to form a quick sentence, forgoing any fear of how pathetic he could sound.

“I’m sorry.”

#draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy fic #Draco Malfoy #jealous Draco #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #Draco Malfoy one shot

[illegiblewords]

SOME ILLEGIBLE RAMBLES AND REFLECTIONS: GALE AND WYLL AS FORSAKEN CHILDREN

Gale and Wyll share a rather unique element of abuse that I haven't seen discussed yet. Someone's gotta talk about it, might as well be me lol.

I would argue that both Wyll and Gale are being pressured to destroy themselves at the altar of certainty. Wyll pacted with Mizora in the first place because when the cult of Tiamat threatened Baldur's Gate, he was told that destruction and death were inevitable outcomes unless he agreed. Mizora was exploiting fear, self-doubt, and a double-standard in self-worth. Even in the Forgotten Realms I'm pretty sure the future isn't set in stone. There was a definite chance destruction and death could occur due to the cult of Tiamat though, and Wyll was willing to enter an incredibly abusive pact to avoid that possibility. His alternative was to accept that life is struggle and uncertainty by nature, and he does not have total control over outcomes. The idea that his best might not be good enough and others might come to harm was enough to justify self-destruction in Wyll's own mind back then. In scenarios where Wyll ends his pact, it's narratively poetic that Mizora poses the same question. This is a way for audiences to examine whether or not Wyll has changed over the course of his pact, whether he looks at himself and life the way he did originally. Mizora tells him with the same false-pretense of certainty that if he doesn't use her power then his father will die and it will be Wyll's fault for not sacrificing himself in Ulder's name. Having Wyll break the pact feels appropriate to me. Whether he succeeds or fails in saving Ulder, it matters that he makes the attempt as a free man without any guaranteed outcome. If he succeeds, it's an especially good way to spit in the face of Mizora's manipulation. She never knew for sure what tomorrow would bring. She had no right to pretend that she did. Mystra does a similar thing to Gale. Gale might succeed in destroying the Absolute without detonating the orb. He might succeed in retrieving the Crown of Karsus. He might not. Mystra isn't in it for mortals here either way. She wants what she wants for herself when she wants it. And while the scene before the final battle varies depending on choices, I had one where Gale basically started panicking because if he didn't use the orb and the group's efforts failed--he thought that everyone who died to the Absolute and mindflayers would be because of him. He thought it would be cowardice and selfishness not to kill himself. He could have gone up alone, detonated the orb alone, and made CERTAIN nobody died except for him. The alternative was to risk failure for the possibility that he wouldn't need to die too. Like Wyll, Gale was taught not to trust himself. Like Wyll, Gale believes his life and well-being are acceptable prices for 'the greater good'. Like Wyll, Gale is being told that the fault of everyone's suffering if he tries and fails is not the Absolute, not the Emperor, not the Dead Three--but him. His best couldn't overpower those enemies, so it's his fault for letting everyone down. It's his fault for not just killing himself. For Wyll it isn't Mizora's fault if his father dies. It isn't Gortash's faut. Blame falls on him exclusively because he wasn't ready to put himself back into the power of an abuser. The attempt to shift accountability is incredibly dishonest. Both Wyll and Gale are basically being put into the allegory of the foresaken child. For anyone who may not know it, the story goes like this.

There is a perfect, utopian city. No one suffers, no one fights, no disease ravages its streets, no hunger grips its people. And everyone not only lives in peace, but lives in the certainty that their peace will never be broken. There is, however, a price to this. For all the residents of that city to enjoy tranquility a single, innocent child must be sacrificed to endure unimaginable torture. It's because of this child's suffering that everyone else is guaranteed happiness. Is that child's life an acceptable price?

Most people would say it isn't. The allegory exists to illustrate how people might decide to give cruelty and horror a pass.

There is another saying that exists, too. "Those who would sacrifice freedom for security deserve neither." That is also what is being demanded of Wyll and Gale--their freedom, their agency, their efforts rejected as inadequate. Only guaranteed outcomes will do according to their abusers... except life has no guarantees.

I would argue Wyll and Gale are both effectively forsaken children, who are being blamed for balking when told to accept their torment for the good of everyone else. Their abusers condemn them for not treating themselves as expendable.

There's a difference between a sacrifice freely made as a last resort when all alternatives are exhausted, and someone making a sacrifice because they regard their own life as cheap or are afraid of failure as a possibility. There's also a huge difference when someone sacrifices themself as their own idea compared to being coerced or manipulated into it. And as a fun personal experience that accidentally illustrated the point. During my first complete play through, it happened that there were two characters in-range of the Netherbrain. One was Karlach, wailing on the thing until it had about twenty HP left. The other was Gale. Gale had no powerful spells left, and no scrolls left. But he had cantrips and he was in-range. The last move in that fight was Gale killing the Netherbrain with shocking grasp. Considering that Gale started the game with basically none of his archwizard spells, that Mystra had no trust in his capabilities and encouraged him to doubt his own capabilities, that Mystra wanted him to kill himself regardless of whether it was necessary simply because it was certain... having Gale win on the reaction cantrip felt like the biggest fuck you he could have given. Could not have asked for things to unfold better than that personally. In any case the idea that Wyll and Gale come to realize they're more capable than they ever gave themselves credit, that they aren't disposable, and that they aren't to blame for the bad actions of other people seems like a key lesson for both of them imo.

#wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #bgiii #Fwiw I don't have the best opinion on Ulder but I don't think he needs to die either #I kind of wish Wyll had more opportunity to express selfishness and have that framed as okay #Also I've seen takes on 'is Gale morally supposed to have blown himself up' when the narrative doesn't actually support that #Neither does the gameplay tbh

[vodika-vibes]

Tomorrow Will Be Better

Summary: When his cyare has a bad day, Fives does everything in his power to make her evening better.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 760

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I wrote this in about 30 minutes, so I'm sorry if it's really bad. But I needed to write, so ta-dah.

Fives knows his cyare. He knows her moods and her quirks and her habits. She has a routine, and she follows it without thinking about it.

Honestly, his presence throws off her routine more than anything else in the galaxy. Not that he minds. He takes pride in being the one thing that can encourage his cyare to divert from her normal schedule.

But he also knows that he has to give her fair warning in advance.

So, when he sent an excited series of comms to his cyare, telling her about a new restaurant that his brothers told him about and how they were raving about it, and how he was definitely bringing her there tonight, he expected an enthusiastic reply.

Instead, he gets a half-hearted response. Half-hearted even by texting standards.

And he’s immediately concerned.

Fives toys with the idea of texting her again, of asking her what’s wrong and what he can do to help, but he has a feeling that his prodding isn’t going to help at all. 

So, instead, he decides to scrap all of his plans.

Honestly, the restaurant can wait, his cyare can’t.

So instead of relaxing, like he normally does when he’s home for the first time in ages, instead he darts around the apartment. He can’t make it spotless, and he’s sure that his cyare wouldn’t want him to make the house spotless, but he does give the kitchen and bathroom a quick scrub, and he very quickly starts the laundry and vacuums the living room, before he sets about preparing everything she might need for a relaxing evening.

Her favorite pajamas are laid out on the bed. Her favorite dinner from her favorite restaurant is quickly ordered and paid for. He lights her favorite candles, the soft scented ones that don’t trigger her migraines.

Fives considers drawing her a bath, but decides to wait to see what her mood is like before he does that. 

He would hate to make her feel pressured, after all.

And when the door opens, Fives is quick to greet her in the hallway, with a broad smile and a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She looks tired, his poor cyare. Dark circles under her eyes, and her hair pulled in a messy tail rather than the neater tail she usually wore to work. There’s an air of, almost, defeat around her. 

“Oh, cyare,” Fives brushes the back of his fingers against her cheek, “You had a bad day.” It’s not a question.

She laughs, and his heart clenches when it comes out as more of a sob, “It’s been a hard week.” She admits, “And…oh, I said we could go to-...just let me change and we can head out.”

Fives lightly cups her face and kisses her cheek and then the other cheek, before ghosting his lips against hers, “Food has already been taken care of. I ordered your favorite.”

“You…you did? But you wanted to go to this new place-”

“The restaurant will still be there the next time you feel like going out. It’s not going to vanish into smoke,” His voice is light and teasing, “But I’m worried that you might vanish into smoke if I don’t help you get some rest.”

She sighs, soft and so very heavy, and then leans against his chest, “What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?”

“Hm…well, you tripped over my brother, and I caught you. So I suppose you could say that you literally fell for me.” Fives replies with a grin.

“...that’s awful.”

“You love me for my bad jokes.” Fives reminds her with a smothered laugh, “Come on, angelfish.” He kisses the top of her head, “I put your pajamas out and I lit your favorite candles.”

“You’re wonderful,” She says through a sigh.

“I am pretty amazing.” Fives agrees, “Now, come on. Let’s get you settled, and you can tell me all about your rotten week while I cuddle you. And then we can watch some trash tv together while you fall asleep.”

“I love you, Fives,” The words seem to slip from her lips without her permission, and Fives can’t help but grin. He already knew, of course, she’s told him that before, but it’s still new enough that it sends thrills through his entire body.

“I love you too, cyare.” He presses one more light kiss to her lips, and then pulls away to guide her to the bedroom.

He’ll take care of her until she’s ready to take care of herself…and even after.

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

[shoku-and-awe]

Complicated anxiety post!

I scheduled a fancy haircut thinking I’d be excited by the time it rolled around, and now the free cancellation window has closed but I’m still :|

I know I *need* a haircut. It’s gotten so long that I hate washing it (it clings all the way down my back and literally makes me whimper with grossness). So I wash it less often than I like, and not wanting to wash it makes me put off swimming and exercise and other things that make me feel good. It also gets super tangled and dry, and I have to braid it every night before bed, and if I wear it up/braided too often, it makes my scalp hurt. (Also, the braid falls on my dog when I pick him up and bothers him.)

I know a haircut is inevitable. Both sides are shaved and the ponytail keeps getting thinner and thinner. Also I have several inches of crunchy dead ends.

I want to keep the length because it looks cool to have shaved sides and just a big messy pile on top. (Also: sunk cost fallacy.) I also feel like it’s a compromise with Japanese beauty standards: I don’t really perform femininity, and societal pressure is so strong, and also having long hair like a pretty lady makes me less threatening as a scary foreigner; I don’t also need to look unfeminine or uncategorizable.

(The pressure here is really next level. People say “I’ve noticed you don’t wear makeup” in the tone I’d use for “I’ve noticed you don’t wear pants.” I once asked my Japanese ex why she did a full face of makeup just to run to 7-11, and she said, “It’s just basic manners.” It’s really hard to not conform! And I already don’t conform. (Should that make it easier? Sure! Does it? Fuck off with your logic—hair does not operate on logic!))

Making it harder is that my face is fatter than the last time I had short hair. (And older.) It probably won’t look good anymore! And even if it does, I don’t think I’ll be able to see it, and I will walk away shaken.

I could make a less dramatic change, but I’m not sure how viable that will actually be. Transitioning an undercut is complicated, and I’ve had hairstylists here respond to suggestions with “Yeah, that’s just not possible” (and Japan = rules do not bend). Also, pricewise, this is not a place I’d go for a trim; I went and called in the experts, and I’m not ready for them.

Also, time pressure. If I’m going back to bangs, I have to do it well before warm weather hits and we’re doing concrete jungle with 80% humidity. I’ve made that mistake before. You need a transition period. Emotionally, and to train your hair!

The one uncomplicated upside is that I have a cool silver stripe in my hair if it’s parted a certain way, so I can finally get my haircut that makes me Rogue! I’ve wanted that for years.

I plan to consult with the stylist, but I’m honestly no longer sure enough to know what to say. And I told him that it was a big haircut but I knew what I wanted!

要するに, it would be so much easier if this war was just society vs. my preferred expression/presentation. There’s other parties begging me to cut: exercise!!! hygiene!!!! scalp pain (grim!)!!! my little dog!!!

#gosh this is insufferable!!!! #but you know #hair is everything #and gender is… #gender is that one metaphor for shinto #it is a pearl and an onion and the air around us #(pearl: layers upon layers of history and society accreted around the eensiest grain of sand; #onion: layers upon layers but at the center there is nothing; #air: we breathe it. we move through it. #you get it. #it is so much a part of our lives that we can’t define it or see it.) #and self image is… … … a whole other can of tuna

[jackdaw-sprite]

Hi, @ep-10 ! I was your truce gifter this year for @phandomholidaytruce and I decided to use your prompts for a Japanese ghost--kinda, but mostly for a biopunk fantasy au. You're getting some character designs for a biopunk fantasy AU set in a world suspiciously similar to Sengoku era Japan! And also backstory. Mostly backstory, really.

Warning for someone getting baked alive in a kiln.

I mean, we all know who.

Jack and Maddie Fenton are a married pair of researcher/alchemists who've been brought into the country with the influence of an old friend of theirs, Vlad. He wants them to figure out the secret to producing porcelain, an expensive and magically versatile ceramic with a production process that's a closely guarded secret in a nearby, much more economically powerful country.

To this end, Vlad has supplied the Fentons with enough wealth and resources to not ask things like "where did you get this?" and "what exactly is going to happen when it gets out that we're trying to make porcelain?"

As it turns out, this is a very important question, because together the pair piece together how to build a kiln that burns hotter than any they've ever seen before and for the very first time make the coveted porcelain.

The victory is short lived: their son Daniel goes missing that very day, and then their search for him is waylaid by another discovery: some of the porcelain is coming to life, animated by a horrific amalgam of flesh and vitriol. They must find Danny, but first they must make sure the monsters they've made are destroyed…

So! The three big players in our cast of characters here are Jack, Maddie, and poor, poor Danny. They are coincidentally the only ones I had time to do a character design for, so let's look at Jack first, who is holding an experimental porcelain vase:

That's quite an outfit. It's, uh. Not quite standard in the Sengoku: while he's wearing a hitatare, it's been modified, and he's chosen not to wear pants because it's technically not, like, a crime. I chose this for him because Jack:

a) Does not care about what everyone thinks of what he's wearing, or he wouldn't wear a jumpsuit all the time in canon b) Hates the feel of most clothes

Hitatare were growing in popularity during the Sengoku because of how comfortable they were, so it seemed a good fit for Jack. They didn't necessarily need to be worn with hakama if you were of a lower class, but it would be frowned upon to go without if you were off a higher class.

The modifications he and Maddie have made to it make it even less restrictive than a standard hitatare, and a bit more suited to their work of experimenting with kilns and clay.

The obi is stitched into place, so it doesn't actually act like a belt and put a line of pressure across Jack's stomach, and they've added a button to the side to hold the hitatare closed, instead. The stitching around the sleeve openings is pretty archaic by this point, but they've kept (or added) it so he can draw the openings closed when he wants, and a second draw string runs along his sleeve to let him draw the sleeves away from his hands when needed, while still letting him let them extend to their full length to act as a barrier between his skin and unpleasant textures.

He's got some leather gloves and a pair of very early goggles to protect his hands and eyes from the heat of the kilns.

The geta act as an additional layer of protection against bad textures, since they should keep him above mud.

Maddie, here holding a shattered fragment of porcelain, is dressed far less eccentrically, because this (left) is before the porcelain came to life. She's just wearing a kosode with hakama and a leather apron. (She has gloves too, they're just tucked away at her back) The smaller sleeves stay out of the way while she works, and the hakama are roomy. She's wearing waraji, because she prefers what I assume is more stable footing and a lower center of gravity.

This is especially true after they start fighting the porcelain. Pictured here, you can see she keeps her hair out of her face with a standard low ponytail, and the Fenton Anti-Creep stick manages to still exist in this world, despite all odds.

This Anti-Creep stick is a bokken with embedded teeth of broken porcelain for a better shattering potential--metal, especially enough metal of sufficient quality for a sword, is expensive, and they're dealing with something that's only a stronger ceramic…

Which brings us to the kiln. And, to his great misfortune, to Danny.

This is a multi-chambered climbing kiln. While I don't think it's the first kiln that allowed firing temperatures to reach that required for porcelain in Japan in our world, it's the most common and appeared around the same time as that first one. The design of it encourages airflow in a way that traps and directs heat to build it on itself and distribute it reasonably evenly.

The kiln chambers would get filled with the pots to be fired, then they would set a fire in the little step down in each chamber. Then they would seal the kiln chambers entrances with fire bricks, except for a small stoking hole to keep the fires fed.

Then they'd light the main fire at the mouth to the first, lowest chamber called the stoke hole and the fire box respectively.

And then they would keep the fires lit, and feed them, wood upon wood upon wood…

Until eventually, the kiln warmed, grew sweltering, grew hot, hot like fire, like iron in a forge and then hotter still, until the whole of the inside glows.

Like the center of the earth.

…

At the lowest, porcelain requires a firing temperature of 1000 degrees. Celsius.

Brass melts, at that temperature. Porcelain itself gets its strength from melting.

And Danny…

Danny tripped. Danny was loading one of the chambers, and he tripped and he hit his head and by the time he woke he was sweating.

He tried to crawl away from where he knew the fires were. The flue, where the spent air left the kiln, has charred finger marks where his burnt away after the carbon dioxide and heat drove him unconscious a second time.

It was a mercy.

By the time he woke again, his body was cooling.

You see, the Fentons enchanted the kiln to make it try to repair pieces that were falling apart during the firing process. And, if one piece was destroyed in the firing anyway, to use the fragments to reinforce the other pieces in the kiln.

Danny was in the kiln. Danny's body failed.

Bone ash is not a critical ingredient in porcelain, but its presence makes it much, much stronger.

Danny woke up made of porcelain.

His sandals left black on the soles of his feet and the fingers on one hand that had burned looked skeletal. But he woke up.

And he ran.

Later, he'll find help. Later, he'll find a way to fight the other things in the kiln that day, and the results of later firings. Later, he'll meet a boy who loves puzzles and information and who teaches him how to use a bow and arrow to keep his fragile body intact. He'll meet a girl who loves foraging (partly because it gets her away from her parents) but loves justice more.

(Whether he'll stop wearing his clothes like a corpse is another question.)

Danny here is wearing something hitatare adjacent and hakama, along with a yugake.

Happy truce!

#danny phantom #jack fenton dp #maddie fenton dp #danny fenton dp #jackdraw-spwrite #jackdraw-sprite

[cahrlotah]

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

IF YOU ARE A MINOR DNI! This is +18 content

Pure smut because I’m horny plus I wrote this at 2-3am so it's kinda shitty (no prove reading) ,I might write another version soon. This is kind of inspired from a Loki fanfic i read a few months ago. 

word count: 1.2k

trigger warnings: innocence kink, blowjob, pastor!daughter reader, virgin reader, pure smut, purity ring, breaking purity pact/ not following religious mandates, blasphemies,  oral f & m , praising, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it kiddos)

When Mrs. Thompson told me that I would have to tutor Eddie Munson, I never would have expected that I would be in his trailer on a Saturday night. Even if I don't like to admit it, there is some tension between us. His constant flirty comments against my harsh responses have built up something between us. He is the one to make the first move.

“You know Miss-I-Know-It-All, we could be doing other things” he says with a smirk on his face as he slowly places himself behind me “like this” he kisses my neck, his cold lips against my skin “or this” he starts sucking into my skin on the other side of my neck, leaving a small bruise. A small moan escaping my lips as I had never experienced any of this. I turn around, locking our lips together. A desperate kiss to say the least, my first kiss, with Eddie Munson. 

Not even I could have ever imagined that something like this was going to happen. Being the pastor's daughter I have to keep some standards, I even made a purity pact with him, the ring on my finger being a proof of that. But Eddie Munson is too intoxicating, the way he treats me, the way he lets his flirty comments slip away his mouth, the way he smirks everytime I blush, the way his rings fit on his fingers . He is the mix of the good and the bad ,together, becoming one. 

He sits on a chair and I follow him. I'm sitting on his lap, his hands under my blouse , playing with my tits, they slowly go down, leaving my torso just to go to my ass.

“ God, you are so beautiful” he whispers in my ear, goose bumps all over my skin.

“Eddie” I say and he looks at me.

“What do you want m’lady?” he asks, that nickname making me smile.

“Eddie” I say, putting on the most innocent face I can. “Could you take my virginity?” his eyes widen with my request.

“Are you sure? Don’t feel pressured into doing this because of me.” he starts saying nervously. I grab his hands, locking our stares once more.

“ I’m a hundred percent sure” I assure him he thinks for a second.

“Fuck it” he attacks my lips once again. His kiss is now more aggressive than before. His hands tracing all over body, taking off my blouse, exposing my chest “Oh sweet jesus”, the cold metal of his rings pressing into one of my boobs as his mouth goes to my neck leaving small hickies, creating a small path of them  from my neck to the middle of my stomach. “Get on your knees sunshine” I do as he tells me “and now open that pretty mouth of yours” he already has his jeans thrown away somewhere in his room, his boxers tightening, and in a matter of seconds his underwear is also gone, letting his cock out. “What would your dad think if he saw you on your knees and your mouth wide open for the town freak?” his thumb tracing my lower lip while his free hand grabs my hair and moves to the back of my head. When my lips touch the tip of his dick he lets out a loud moan throwing his head back. I go as deep as I can, not even caring if I gag because  hearing Eddie moaning is one of the best sounds I have ever heard. Some tears fall from my eyes and he quickly wipes them “You are doing amazing sweetheart” he pulls out, just to kiss me, I stand up, not breaking the kiss. He lays me on his bed as he slowly pulls my skirt and my panties with it leaving all my body exposed to him. Feeling kinda ashamed, I try to cover up as much as I can. He stops me by grabbing my wrists and putting them above my head.

“ Now you are not going to move your hands okay?” I nod, “because if you do I will have to use those handcuffs I have over here, do you understand?” I nod again. He kisses my neck, slowly moving down my torso, after some tries he finally unfastens my bra, literally exposing everything to him, no spots covered by any type of clothing. “ A fucking goddess” he says before going between my legs. I gasp at first, feeling his mouth into my private area.

“Fuck” I moan. One of his hands is gripping on my thigh for some support, the cold metal of his rings pressed against my skin, while the other has its thumb circling my clit. The movement is fastened each time I moan, making me feel things I have never felt. Out of the sudden he stops, making me whine in desperation. 

“Look at you so desperate for my dick. You got everyone fooled, thinking you are this prude little angel, but look at you now, crying for the town's freak dick” his words make something inside of me. “Beg for me, beg for me to make you see the stars” he orders.

“Please Eddie make me feel stuff I have never seen before” I beg while we lock our stares. He crawls until he is on top of me, his stare switching from my eyes to my left ring finger, he smiles when he sees the ring I have on. “Oh sweet little angel, I think I will have to keep this one” he takes it off and puts it on one of his chains around his neck. “ This might hurt a little since it is your first time. If you want me to stop, say it okay?” he says. I nod, he puts his cock on my entrance, slowly pushing his way in. It hurts but nothing I can’t handle. “ Fuck, so fucking tight”, he gradually makes his thursts faster, hitting, somehow, the right spots. “ Scream my name, let my neighbours know I’m ruining the pastor’s daughter” the room becomes a mix of moans and Eddie’s name being screamed out of the top of my lungs.

He pulls out, turning my body making me be on all fours. He goes inside me again but this time harder and faster.

“Holy shit Eddie”he slaps my ass “ I think I’m going to come! Fuck!” my legs are getting shakier as something inside my tummy tightens, making me see literal stars. Eddie pulls out of me sitting next to me. Both our breathings are heavy, as if we had run a 5k.

“You did so well sweetheart” his praising words get tattooed on my mind. “I’m thinking I will go to church tomorrow morning, just to see you on your knees again, asking the Big one his forgiveness for the sins you have commited”

This is for @eddiesdungeon, hope you like it! <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson #Eddie x innocent!reader #Eddie x virgin!reader #pure smut #no plot #i am an eddie munson simp and im proud

[poemsfor-her]

GLOW UP QUIDE 𖹭⠀࣭⠀ֹ⠀͡꒱

I. THE INNER ME

— When you think of the word "glow up" , your mind automatically thinks of changing your appearence, right? For me the beauty is in our soul. If you think nasty and degrading thoughts of yourself that can be damaging in so many ways.

let's get some things clear here:

First of all, beauty standards always change, as trends come and go, and you will never be enough "pretty" for someone; because beauty is subjective and you might be the dream person for someone and for someone not. which is ok! there are so many beautiful flowers. i personally perfer tulips and peonies, but someone might prefer roses or sunflowers. that doesn't make a flower less beautiful because every flower is beautiful in it's own way.

— do you know yourself? we spend so much time trying to know others, but do we even know ourselves? go on pinterest and find some questions to ask yourself. here are some:

1. what qualities do i like about myself?

2. what qualities of others do i admire?

3. what am i scared of?

4. what would i like my mornings to look like?

5. who inspires me?

if someone asks me any of these questions i would answer them all in a second, because i know myself.

— SHADOW WORK. Grab a pen and a journal, go on pinterest and search "shadow work prompts". I Personally, don't know much about this subject, but i know it's talked about by many people i look up to. It helped them heal from trauma.

some videos i suggest you watch that helped me so much in changing my mindset:

why you'll never be pretty enough - zoe unlimited.

you don't need to glow up, our obssesion with glow up culture needs to STOP.

tiktok is DESTROYING YOUR IDENTITY.

what type of pretty you are.

— I suggest watching every commentary video of zoeunlimited. Her videos changed my views on various topics.

II. THERE IS NOTHING TO CHANGE

— you are perfect just the way you are. embrace yourself. there is only one you in this world. many women look the same to me these days and it's a tiring and sad thing. Everyone is following the standard that is going to probably change in a month. As Hwasa said "I am my own beauty standard" and thank you Hwasa for that!

Embrace your features, look for makeup that suits your face shape and eyes. I know that eyeliner doesn't work with my eyes so i don't apply it. I also know that a lot of bronzer doesn't suit me.

Wear whatever you like and don't be afraid to express yourself.

When it comes to exercising, ALWAYS DO IT FOR YOURSELF. Think of it as: "My body deserves to be healthy"

strech when you wake up, do yoga, workout or go for a walk/run. whatever you like!

eat healthy but don't pressure yourself too much. have it balanced. you can eat a healthy meal but that doesn't mean you can't eat a cake. BALANCE IS EVERYTHING.

my favorite fitness youtubers:

lily sabri

yoga with bird

mady morrison

emi wong

III. KNOWLEDGE IS POWER

— if you follow my posts you know how much i respect and talk about education and it's importance. As my favorite saying goes "BEAUTY IS DANGEROUS, BUT INTELLIGENCE IS LETHAL." I stand by this!!!! READ BOOKS, FOCUS ON YOUR STUDYING, WRITE, PAINT, LEARN A NEW LANGUAGE AND DRAW.

here are some book suggestions:

i who have never known men

the great gatsby

the prophet

my body

the art of war

search some famous musicians or artists and get to know their work. i seriously find this so attractive.

watch documentaries.

watch news, read articles and just generally know what is happening in the world.

get to know your country's history.

watch some iconic movies.

beauty fades, but knowledge always stays.

that's it! if you have some questions send me an ask ♡

with love, t

#glow up #it girl #self growth #pink pilates girl #gaslight gatekeep girlblog #girlblogging #self love #self development #self help #self improvement #self care #girlblog #girly #ask blog #study inspo #study blog #studying #student #studying motivation #studying inspo #studying inspiration #study blr #study inspiration #studyspo #study motivation #studyblr #becoming that girl #divine feminine #high value woman #high value mindset

[itsohh]

The Other Man's Ring

A/N: Female reader, looking at doing a couple of like linked oneshots sorta situation cause I like writing specific scenes but not an enitre story to go with it

Summary:  When Simon finds a hidden-away engagement ring he decides the pair of you need to talk.

Word count: 1420

Warnings: None

AO3 Masterlist Series Masterlist

He was normally relatively quiet. Prefering to watch and listen rather than to talk. At least that's how he was most of the time on base. In the field, he was one to take charge when needed and typically when he was alone with you, willing to speak up in comfort. Yet his current silence worried you. Sure sometimes he was just silent around your house but it was the fact that the pair of you had been in the middle of a conversation that concerned you.

"Simon?" You put the final dish from the dishwasher away and closed it. You wiped away any access water and poked your head around the corner. "Simon?" Again you called with no response. The short walk to your bedroom- now shared bedroom- seemed to take forever until you finally rounded the corner into the open door. "Simon, did you find my spare phone… charger?" Your voice trailed off as he stared at the small item in his hands. Your brows shot up at the sight of it, you didn't realize you still had that there.

"Are you married?" His voice was without emotion and at first, you thought to be offended, that you would ever cheat, but you bit back the knee-jerk reaction. An engagement ring was hidden away… you could see how his mind would run of all possibilities.

"Almost." You shuffled into the room and sat down on the large bed. It dipped under your weight and soon Simon followed your lead. It was a decent size rock. Diamond. Most likely cost a small fortune. "Long ago, maybe a year or two before I met you. I was in love." You glanced up to meet your lover's eyes for a second before your eyes fell back down to the ring that twirled in his fingers.

"I was young, well younger than I am now. He was great. Funny, charming, pretty and had one of those American accents that I loved to make fun of. Admittedly not terrible in bed either. Well, that's before my standard was raised." The pair of you lowly chuckled at that last part together.

"Even though we were both in the military, we kept our work completely out of our lives together. Hell, I still don't know what military he works for. It worked and we were in love. I worshipped the ground he stood on, crazy for him. He in turn took care of me, a doting boyfriend who eventually became my fiancé. The classic story."

"I presume things didn't work out?"

"Well after we got engaged we talked more and more about how we wanted our lives to be after we got married. We both soon discovered that we had rather different plans. I wanted to pretty much stay the same, maybe have a house together. But Phil? He wanted to protect me. Wanted me to leave the military. There wasn't any pressure for kids or anything." A sigh left your mouth. "Insistent on the matter. Sure, he wanted to keep me safe, but safe doesn't keep me happy. Eventually, after all the arguing I broke it off. Honestly, it wasn't really messy or anything. We just… moved on with our lives."

"He let you keep the ring?"

"I think both of us forgot about that one."

"That one?" He cocked a brow at you.

"Well, this is the ring he asked me to marry him with. I never wore it unless it was around the house. I don't know if you noticed but it's super unpractical." Simon tilted his head to the side in agreement, it was a bulky rock. "Eventually, he gave me another engagement ring. This time with the diamonds embedded into the band so I could wear it under my cloves at work." Your shoulders dropped for a moment. "Would have just preferred a blank ring, never cared for gems but Phil was Phil. He liked spending money on me." Simon passed the ring to you and you started to fiddle with it in your hands.

"I remember when I gave the ring back to him he didn't want to take it. I think there was a part of him that secretly wished we would get back together. Maybe he didn't forget about this ring. I don't know. Sometimes I felt like didn't know the man at all. Ultimately I saw what he wanted to see."

"Do you feel the same?" Simon's eyes cast over your face as you gave him a slight look of confusion. "About me." He clarified.

"Mmm." You dropped the ring on your bed and ran a finger over his hand. "At least I can see when you're wearing a mask." The home had the corner of his lip curl up while you traced the veins on his hand. "It's different, sure there are things that you keep from me. Both personal and work-related, you have your secrets and I probably won't know every part of you. But I don't feel like any part of you is a lie. Perhaps an act when you get all grumpy with the recruits…" Your eyes flashed up to meet his and your face spread into a teasing smirk before you continued. "But never a lie. When it comes to who you are as a person. I know you." Voice soft, you let go of his hand and placed it on his clothed chest. Right where his heart was.

Simon's eyebrows had narrowed but it didn't discourage you in any matter. "I could be wrong of course. You could be a secret mastermind behind everything. Plotting my demise." Simon leaned back on the bed and picked the ring up before he placed it on your side table. The same side table that he had found said ring in.

"And if I was? Would you regret it?"

"My demise by your hand? What a way to go. Have I told you I love your hands?" You winked and he rolled his eyes at you. A hand of his snaked around your waist and promptly pulled you close. Half in his lap you cuddled up to his chest your laughter shaking into his body.

"You have. Several times in fact." He made sure to press a little firmer into your skin to enthesis his touch. His touch ran up and down your forearm. The light touch of his lips made contact with the top of your head for a second before he sat back again.

"What would you like to happen if we ever got married?" Simon's voice was a hum, his focus seemed to be on your body but his mind was one hundred per cent on whatever your answer was to be.

"Us? Married? Hmm. I didn't think you were the type to want to get married." Your voice was a tease, not completely serious but he could hear the question wrapped up in your statement.

"Only to you."

"Charmer." You rolled your eyes, a grin on your face that you couldn't contain. "Honestly, if we were to get married. I think I would like things to just stay the same that they are."

"How so?"

"Well, we have no reason to move out of our houses. You live in England and I live here. We just carry on what we usually do and just take turns on where we live. I can't see how it would affect work any more than it currently does." Your head turned up to look at his warm eyes. "What about you?"

"I think we are on the same page with this one."

"Oooh wait there's one thing I would change."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"I think Sergeant Riley sounds pretty charming." His brow raised which caused you to let out a small giggle. "Or perhaps Dr Riley or even Mrs Riley if we are really striping it back."

"You want to take my name?"

"Why not? Man, it's going to make it soooo annoying and confusing when we are deployed together."

"You just want to stir chaos."  Simon's voice had a slightly deeper undertone to it, signalling his disapproval.

"Ah come on sweetie, it's not like anyone uses your name in the field anyway. I'll be Riley and you'll be Ghost."

"And if Johnny starts calling you Mrs Ghost?" Simon's question had you pause and physically cringe at the thought.

"Johns not gonna have a tongue for very long if he keeps that up."

"Even mute he'll never shut up."

"I can believe that."

#cod #cod x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #simon riley #call of duty

[berzatto-and-you]

For all the hard work Carmy put into the restaurant, he barely complained. Well. That wasn't quite true. He whinged about labels having torn edges, about having to show allegedly experienced chefs just how to care for the knives properl. The near enough constant bellyaching about suppliers was one that had you rolling your eyes on a regular basis. However, the one thing Carmy never mentioned or whinged about was the toll the job took on him. More specifically, his body.

You had done your research. Hell, you'd even had a short stint in a coffee shop while in college. That was nowhere near the level Carmy worked at and it had been awful for you all the same. The heat, the public, the constant hand washing, it all added up. But the worst part? How your feet had ached after a solid shift. Needless to say, you left the job as quickly as you could afford to, it really wasn't your kind of thing. More importantly, you had a sneaky suspicion that Carmy ached in unimaginable ways at the end of each day.

Not once did he mutter darkly about cuts and burns, about how the skin of his knuckles tended to split in the cold, dry air. Muscles adjusted, sure, but the body didn't get used to pain. Some days you could have sworn you saw Carmy wince as he straightened up. An idea was forming in your mind.

It wasn't easy to pull off. You could have sworn Carmy had some kind of sixth sense for when softness and gentleness was imminent. The skill with which he deflected attention would have been admirable if it wasn't infuriating. Offers of running him a warm bath were rebuffed with claims about hot water being funky at his place (it wasn't, you'd tried it out, Carmy just seemed strangely attached to having a cold shower). A shoulder rub was ruined by his inability to keep still. After two light passes over tense muscles, your hands had traced air because he'd leaned forward to grab something off the coffee table. The back massage ended before it even started when he grabbed the bottle of scented massage oil and gave it a sniff. At first you'd thought it might have clashed with his senses but then he muttered something about lavender aioli and began scanning the ingredients list. Next moment he was scribbling something in his notebook by the bed. You're fairly certain that mushrooms were involved but you didn't ask.

Determination may as well have been your middlename because you were going to make absolutely certain that Carmy got a bit of pampering. Even if it had to be done covertly and without him realising. The opportunity presented itself with laughable ease. Carmy was sprawled on the sofa, eyes heavy but sleep refused to come for him. Tapping his legs, you demanded they be lifted so you could plop down and drag his feet into your lap. A fairly standard end to the evening, nothing to set off any alarm bells in his head. Touches started slow, a hand resting on his shin, doing nothing more than just being a presence. As he didn't react, you slwoly start squeezing, fingers working the muscles of his calf. From the corner of your eye you see Carmy shift and look at his own leg but nothing comes out of his mouth. Good, that was how you intended things to happen.

Ever so gradually, the squeezes turned to rubs as you massage first one leg then the other. As your hands drift down to his feet, he recoils a little.

"Don't. Ticklish." You weren't going to tickle him, that was pretty much the exact opposite of your plans. With a firm grip, you took his ankle and pulled it back into your lap. The first pass of hard pressure over the arch of his foot had Carmy making a funny noise in his throat. It was cute, you wanted to hear more. By some miracle, Carmy didn't resist. You were allowed to work harshly over the balls of his feet, trace the arches and revel in his small twitches.

By the time you pulled the socks off, he was near enough liquid goop on the sofa. Thankfully your hand was warm as you ran the tip of your finger lightly down the length of his bare foot and he kicked a little, grumbling but not doing much else. That was all the reassurance you needed before unleashing your true intent. Grabbing one foot with both hands, you squeezed and rubbed, watching the way Carmy's face scrunched up before relaxing into something serene.

Not daring to say anything, you continue rubbing his feet, tracing his toes, all while your eyes are firmly on the TV. The odd glance you dared send his way was enough of a reward. Eyes closed, face slack and devoid of all traces of a frown, Carmy looked at peace. Eventually, when your hands were starting to ache, you paused. He took that as the opportunity to sit up, shoulder to shoulder.

"You're amazing," he murmured, looking up from under his lashes. "But also gross. Feet are disgusting."

In one fell swoop you had undone all your hard work; you lifted your hands and waved them in his face. His screech of "feet hands" Go wash them!" had you laughing too hard to breathe. You were definitely doing this again at some point.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #the bear hulu #the bear #the bear fx #foot massage

[parsnippety]

Brainstorming-

Mkay I have several ideas for alien/human posts so I'm putting them here before I forget. If this gets popular maybe I'll actually write some lol

Songs/singing : sounds being very powerful w/ other species; the most severe (?) sounds you'll find are soft clicks/rumbling and most languages developed through touch / what we'd call sign language. So these species are mesmerized by human singing cause they either can't do it / don't have enough control over the pitch of their voice or they "hear" by feeling vibrations and process tones differently.

This has endless possibilities- a human singing softly while working and causing some extreme reaction in the mechanics of the ship or their crewmates, humans taking over ships by accessing the intercom system, humans knowing the first thing to do if they're kidnapped is to yell at a really low pitch then a really high one cause chances are one of them will do something, videos of humans harmonizing becoming really popular (and being banned in several galaxies), two humans realizing they both know a song with a harmony and proceeding to sing it (causing everyone on the ship to stop what they're doing and just listen in awe), sign language becoming the main form of communication and ships having soundproof rooms so humans can talk to each other / themselves...

Species variation : most species didn't figure out efficient space travel for millions of years. Pair that with gene editing (to get rid of "imperfections"- usually this portion of the species' history is their "dark age"), and each individual looks pretty much identical. Most species have some sort of fetishized/slur word for individuals with any kind of abnormality, cause they're really really rare at this point. Think crocodiles; maybe some color variations but they've stayed more or less the same for millions of years. But humans? No two look the same- except maybe identical twins, but they could have different haircuts (don't even get me started on body modifications- other species do it, sure, but humans are already so different that it makes them a nightmare to teach about.) And in space the beauty standards are all over the place so if you want tattooed stripes you can get them- but wait, aren't there already some humans with stripes? And pointed ears? Dyed hair?

There's also the constant battle between human willpower and circumstance. When other species carefully figure out how to turn and move around an obstacle, humans are literally slingshotting themselves off of it. But for every death-defying feat, there are God knows how many feat-defying deaths. One human got an adrenaline rush and lifted an entire gnarflax. Another fainted 'cause they stood up too fast. Most species have clearly defined limits, so there's no pressure to push past them.

And mimicry : As if humans' vocal range isn't enough (what's that clicking? Sounds like a xhrhghfnl from my home planet- nope, it's John. Machinery malfunctioning? Alarms? Nope. F***ing John.), they can also make disguises and act. See, most species can manipulate the holograms or whatever but there's no way they'd be able to do convincing impressions in real time. Just going for it? Completely irrational.

One time, a human even convinced an entire rhusngi fleet that she was a rhusngi inspector "in disguise". (Honestly that line should've given it away but it walked and moved with the same mannerisms- the same- I don't even know. We were completely- what's that human expression?- shook.)

Not knowing what someone's going/been through unless they tell you is a completely novel concept. Imagine a human acting all violent when you take over their ship so you put 'em in the brig somehow, only to pull up the camera feed later and see them sobbing or completely frozen in a fetal position, or even worse- hurting themselves somehow. But the second you go down there, they're spitting curses at you and showing zero signs of weakness.

If anyone wants to write about these pls go right ahead. Sorry if they've already been done/overused (if they have, please lmk so I can go read them).

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans and aliens #random ideas #brainstorm

[glowingbadger]

hello! can i request body worship and seteth 💕

that dragon man of cloth dilf makes me act up so badly, I want to spoil and pamper him so bad- SETETH LET ME LOVE YOU !!!!!!!!

I need a Seteth break goddamnit let's DO IT Seriously all of my prompts having to do with him are always a thousand times easier and more engaging for me than for most other charracters lmao I'm done pretending I don't play favorites

For the record I'm pretty sure I ended up filtering out a few Body Worship requests because I just got so many and it's a pretty vanilla kink even by the standards of that list lmao (those two factors are probably very related) but I kept a couple for my fav and/or less commonly requested characters

Reader-chan ended up pretty talkative in this one lol but that's because Seteth needs to be told how hot he is, and that's that.

Seteth (FE3H) x GN!Reader

Kink prompts list #2 - body worship

NSFW 18+

Your thighs fit snug around Seteth's hips as you straddle him on his bed, then press your bare body flush to his and kiss him. He groans into your mouth when your tongue eagerly meets his, and while he seems surprised by your aggressive advances, it's not long before his fingers are dragging through your hair while his free hand grips hard at your hip. You've learned by now that Seteth can be passionate- practically ferocious, under the right circumstances, and tonight you want him urgently.

Your fingernails drag down his torso from above his undershirt, and his breeches barely contain the potent throbbing of his growing member against you. His fingers tighten in your hair, guiding your head aside so he can kiss down the side of your throat.

"You are... enthusiastic tonight, my love," he whispers to you, lips lingering close enough that you can feel the graze of his beard on your skin.

"Of course I am," you say, "I've been thinking about this ever since training today. You don't often join routine training with the others," you go on, your tone unabashedly lustful as you nip at the shell of his pointed ear, "It's a rare treat to get to watch you like that- and I know I wasn't the only one looking."

He scoffs, turning his head and muttering,

"Dearest, that's..."

"Objectively correct?" you retort playfully, lifting yourself over him enough to get a clear look at his face, while not relieving any of the pressure of your lower body against his.

"That's not- it's, it's patently ridiculous..!" the hand not occupied at your hip shyly covers his mouth, and he refuses to meet your eye. You've seen Seteth flustered plenty of times by now- it's not hard to do, when he keeps himself so tightly wound -but this bashfulness is new. You smile, an eyebrow slightly quirked.

"Seteth," you say with play-admonishment, "Do you seriously not know that you're incredibly handsome?"

He's silent for a moment, then exhales and says with his gaze still stubbornly averted,

"I... have not considered my physical appearance often, these past centuries. Aside from maintaining a level of decorum given my station, and the obvious need to conceal some things," you nod, knowing he's referring to the ears you find so charming, "I suppose that as long as you are pleased, the rest is... immaterial."

"Well, I am certainly pleased," you say while you indulgently run your hands down the front of his body, feeling how his muscles tense beneath his shirt, "But now I think I need to help you realize just how attractive you actually are."

"My love..."

You take his hand in yours, and hold it cradled against your cheek for a moment.

"To start, I adore your hands," your touch is gentle as your fingers trace the strong but elegant line up his forearms to his hands, enjoying the handsome veins and contours of them. Seteth's complexion is dyed pink as he watches you with rapt attention, and you kiss his each of his fingers in turn.

"You're always so good to me with them, too," you say, and when your tongue circles his fingertip and your teeth offer him a single playful nip, you feel his cock throb at your inner thigh. Slowly, so he can watch, you kiss down his palm to his inner wrist, where you grant him one more teasing bite. His brow furrows, and he breathes out your name like a secret- like a blasphemy he might conceal even from the Goddess herself. Still, your focus is unwavering.

Your hands run down his arms, and you can feel his hair stand on end with each inch you pass over.

"Your arms are so strong, I love that you can hold me, pin me down, position me however you like- you make it look effortless."

"It feels effortless," he says, his voice low and laden with lust, "when you make me desire you so fervently."

"Mmm, but you're even more sexy when you exert yourself," your grin becomes ever more coy, and you wiggle your hips just enough to rut yourself against his sizeable erection.

"Sexy?" he utters a dismissive sound like a short laugh, though his face is a dark and ruddy red now. It's a foreign sounding word, in his voice, and you wonder if he's ever spoken it before.

"Extremely sexy," you reply, and now you run your hands warm along his chest. You enjoy the swell of the pectoral muscles you'd stolen glances at earlier that day, when the lightweight shirt he'd worn for training had clung there to his sweat dewed skin. "I almost didn't want the others seeing you like that at training. But then, I do like to brag about you, so maybe it's not so bad."

"De- Dearest, surely you don't-"

"You didn't think soldiers talk about the weather over our post-battle drinks, did you?" you smile sweetly as you open the remaining lower buttons of his undershirt and push his clothes out of the way.

"Well, certainly not but-"

"I love the looks on their faces when I tell them about how gorgeous your body is. Your chest..." you trail a single finger down the central line of his torso as you speak, "Your abs... all of these beautiful old scars... and aaaall the way down to this wonderful little trail of hair," Seteth shivers as your fingernail drags down the line of hair from his lower stomach leading down below the hem of his pants. Then, without a word, you tug the front of those breeches down and free his towering manhood, throbbing and crowned with a touch of precum. You run your hand tenderly up its length, admiring its sheer mass, the heat of it in your palm, the bulging veins. It's obvious how your words have provoked him, and the realization only encourages you further.

"And this cock- Goddess, Seteth, do you even know how many men would give anything to be half your size?"

"That's- well, given my, er, unique heritage, it's hardly- that is, my size is more typical of men of my kind," self-consciousness has him babbling, and you hold back a laugh. If he weren't so desirable, he'd be utterly adorable. You watch him with both lust and adoration as you stroke up and down the length of his shaft, pumping his cock steadily until you see his lips slightly part and his breath start to quicken.

"Darling, please," he says, his eyes shining with earnest desire, "I am not certain how much more of this I can endure..."

"Oh?" you sweetly laugh, rubbing your thumb in firm circles around his tip until you feel it slicken with even more precum, "You're surprisingly weak to flattery."

"Only from you."

He inhales slowly as you release his cock and shift forward on his lap. Seteth is nothing if not an expert in restraint, yet you catch the way his hands flex tight at your hips when you settle with his throbbing member snug against your lower body. You're well aware- by the time he starts showing outward signs of impatience, he's near delirious with need for you, fighting the urge to ravish you completely. But you're not satisfied just yet. He needs to know the extent of your longing for him, how positively alluring he is, how his body drives you mad with lust.

Your hands travel tantalizingly back up his tight musculature as you lean down over him once more and comb your fingers into his hair as your lips lightly brush his.

"That's good," you murmur softly, "because I'm not nearly done worshiping my favorite Saint."

#kink prompt #fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem smut #seteth #seteth x reader #fire emblem x reader #seteth fire emblem #fe3h x reader #not sfw #body worship #few3h #fire emblem three hopes