#(this has been sitting in my brain for a while and is entirely self indulgent so)

[loudenver]

june 3rd, 2022.

The sun beat down on Washington Square park, on a day that was both sufficiently ordinary and satifactory for Louis Denver. Stretched out with his arm behind his head and the sun on his face, he held a paperback aloft to block out the overhead glare. His morning had been spent in lazy contentment, heading down to his favorite breakfast nook long after the rise of the sun. The waitress there had smiled her sweetest smile and fetched him his coffee, an assortment of sugary syrups Louis had found he actually liked after years of drinking black coffee. Sure, it wasn't very tortured artist of him, but for the sake of coffee that didn't taste like dirt, he was willing to leave a little pretension behind.

Now, all he was looking forward to for the rest of the day was scribbling in the margins of his copy of Young Mungo and having his heart ripped out of his chest in a controlled environment. Maybe he'd swing by his local bar at the end of his night and get a drink, chat amicably with a handsome stranger in the smoking area. The world was his fucking oyster. He'd always wanted to live in California.

Uncapping his biro between his teeth, Louis clumsily underlined a particularly poignant sentence in his novel. He tucked the pen back behind his ear after doing so, absently thinking that perhaps his hair was getting a little too long. Last time he'd facetimed his Maman she'd despaired at the way it was curling just under his chin, tutting with a small smile on her face.

As Louis found himself thinking fondly of his family, he was suddenly ripped out of his reverie by the sound of his phone ringing. Planting the paperback face down atop his chest, uncaring about the already-cracking spine, Louis fished his phone from the pocket of his jeans, squinting at the string of unknown numbers suddenly lighting up his phone.

As a rule, Louis generally didn’t answer unknown numbers. He did, however, recognise the area code. Lowell, Massachusetts.

A lump as hard as a rock gathered uncomfortably in his throat as he merely stared at the phone, waiting for the number to ring through. Whoever was on the other line, he didn’t want them to know he’d hung up on them. There were only two people in his hometown that knew his number, and they’d both been sworn to secrecy. And Louis had his number blocked.

When the phone mercifully stopped ringing, Louis navigated with shaky hands to his list of contacts, scrolling for only a second or two before he reached the C’s. After Louis had left home, he’d quickly dumped his phone and replaced it with the oldest, still-working model of iPhone. There were few people whose numbers it was important for him to save, now.

Pressing his phone to his ear, it rang for mere moments before the woman on the other end picked up.

“Caro? Did you give Ger my number?” Louis launched into the conversation, not pausing to wait for the chirpy, ‘Lou!’ his big sister usually picked up the phone with. Instead of a response, however, he only heard ragged, shallow breaths on the other end of the phone, the unmistakeable sound of his only sister sniffing.

“Carolina? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” Louis asked, his voice wobbling with concern in his rusty French. He white-knuckled his phone as Carolina’s sobs increased in volume.

“I - I, oh, Lou. I didn’t want you to hear it like this.” she sniffed. 

Louis sat up, his book tumbling into the grass. 

“What’s so important that you needed Gerard to call me? That you or Mom couldn’t?” he asked, his fingers anxiously tugging at the loose threads in his jeans. It wasn’t often in his phone calls with his big sister or his Mom that they brought up his older brother. After the first few attempts, they’d noticed the visible change in Louis’ tone and simply stopped trying.

“It’s Dad, Lou. He’s - oh God, he’s gone.”

Whatever Carolina said next dulled to static sound. It was so goddamn cliche, but everything - the kids running circles around each other, the bible basher he could hear faintly across the way, the busker playing Fix You by Coldplay - was muted as Louis contemplated that his Father was gone.

It was a hard fact to reckon with. Leonard Denver, the man who cheered at his football games, the man he was named for, was lying dead somewhere, in a hospital morgue or a funeral home, Louis wasn't sure. At the same time, Leonard Denver, the man who told him he'd rather Louis never marry at all if he was going to marry a man, who spent most of his childhood calling him a 'priss' as well as some of the more creative slurs, was dead.

Vaguely, Louis was aware of the fact Carolina was still talking. Between choked sobs and muffled words, he thought he made out the word 'home'.

"What's that, Caro? I can't understand you."

"You've got to come home. To Lowell. We have to plan the funeral, we have to - we're gonna have to get you on a flight, hon. Are you working right now? Hold on, Ger's texting me now, he says he'll pay for your flight."

Louis' blood ran cold.

"I ain't coming home. I'm not coming back to Lowell ever again." Louis said, so quietly it was possible Carolina might miss it. When she didn't respond, he thought for a second she had. A tinny scoff could be heard through the speakers of Louis' phone.

"For Chrissakes, he's our Dad. Of course you have to come home. We should all be together right now. All Denvers together. Maman is sick over this, and she's always liked you best, anyway."

Running a hand through his too-long dark locks, Louis winced. Of course Louis loved his sister, but if there was anyone Louis loved irrevocably, without conditions, it was his Maman. Aurelie Denver has always shielded and protected him to the best of her ability, smuggled him tawdry paperbacks and put his poetry up on the refrigerator with pride. It killed him to think of her suffering alone, lamenting the death of the husband she'd loved for over forty years. And yet, if she knew, Louis knew without a doubt she'd tell him to run and ever look back.

"I can't, sis. I'll call Mom, I'll explain everything - but I'm not going to that man's funeral."

Carolina's tears had made way for exasperation.

"He can't hurt you. Didn't you hear, he's dead! He's gone! My Dad is dead, Louis!"

"Yeah, Caro. My Dad is dead, too. My Dad, who hated his strange, queer kid and never came to a single one of my open mics. He never wanted to meet my boyfriend but loved Edie, and Stella, and Joan. Never the one fuckin' person I was serious about. I'm not going. I'm not standing in a room with that man, dead or alive, and I sure as hell don't want to see my dear big brother."

Louis held the phone away from his ear for a mere moment, gathering his courage back up after his little outburst. He realised in that moment he'd been shouting, and that multiple people were now staring at him, screaming down the phone at his grieving sister.

"Jesus, what is it with you and Gerard? What the fuck kind of argument did you guys have that you won't even be in the same room as him? He loves you. He talks about how much he wishes you'd call, all the time. Why are you doing this?"

Louis' pinched the bridge of his nose, his sunny day suddenly turned sour. Times like this he found it hard to reckon with the sneaking suspicion that he was the fuck up, he was the one tearing his family apart because of his inability to stand in the same room as Gerard Denver. No, not Gerard Denver. His abuser. It had taken him so long and years of therapy to even think of the man as such. Louis had tried anything and everything to cope. Drinking, leaving his whole life in New York behind. Just last year, Louis had been on a date with an older man and ended the night in a full-fledged panic attack. He would not undo years of progress just to placate his sister, even if it stopped his Mom's heart from breaking.

"Ask him." Louis spat down the phone, the words bitter-tasting in his mouth. "I'm sorry, I love you and I love Mom, but I fuckin' can't. I'm sorry he's gone, but I'm not gonna stand around and cry and pretend he was a good Dad. Goodbye, Carolina."

[sundrop-writes]

(Un)Intimidated

Derek Hale x POTSie!GN!Reader Blurb

Word Count: 600

Sundrop's Main Masterlist

Warnings: the reader is gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; mentions of the reader having a 'girly' room (elements of pink and having stuffed animals); the reader has POTS - it is the main 'plot' of the fic (Derek can hear the reader's heartbeat). This is mostly just very self indulgent fluff.

A/N: So - again, I am on hiatus. But self indulgent fic ideas are getting to me. If you follow my main blog then you saw this one coming. Originally, my idea was to write something about Derek listening to the reader's heartbeat and catching them before they faint, but this fic is what happened when I started typing. Maybe I will write the other idea sometime, idk. Also, shoutout to the fact that I was writing this while having chest pains due to POTS. Wild

...

You had been assigned to ‘babysit’ Derek. 

What a glamorous role: sitting in your bedroom with a man on the run from the law (only because Scott had publicly (wrongfully) accused him of murder). 

When you first met Derek Hale, you had been intimidated by him. It was impossible not to be. He was more than six feet tall and impossibly broad - a giant wall of muscle that could have ripped you apart in seconds if he wanted to. But soon, you came to realize that he was… softer than other people gave him credit for. He had lost his entire family, and he was alone in the world. Of course he protected himself from that loneliness with bitterness and anger. But you saw glimpses of something else beneath. 

Especially now, when he was sitting in your bedroom on your pink beanbag chair, among a pile of stuffed animals, reading a YA romance novel that you had given him to entertain himself - he was almost… cute. 

He let out a gentle huff, seemingly frustrated, and you wondered if he had gotten caught up in the plot of the book - which would have been entirely amusing. 

“You okay?” You asked, putting down the pen you had been using to doodle with in your journal, giving him your full attention. “I can get us a snack or something if-” 

“Look, I’m sorry.” He mumbled out, so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 

“What?” You gaped, wondering if you had misheard him. 

“I said: I’m sorry.” He repeated himself, slowly and a bit louder. 

Unfortunately this confused you even further. 

“What for?” You asked, moving to the edge of your bed and putting your feet on the floor, directing even more of your attention toward him. 

“I know Scott and Stiles are making you stay with me, but you don’t have to stay here if you’re going to be… scared.” He explained slowly, quietly, choosing his words carefully. “I know I’m not exactly the friendliest person-” 

“‘Scared’?” You repeated his own words back to him, unsure of what he meant. “Why do you think I’m scared?” 

“Your heart has been racing for the past hour - ever since I arrived.” He explained. “I know you must be afraid of me-” 

You let out a gentle laugh, shaking your head. 

It was Derek’s turn to be confused now. 

“I - I forgot that werewolves can do that.” You told him, putting a hand to your chest and feeling your own rapid heartbeat. “Scott told me, but…” You trailed off, and then you switched to a different line of thought completely. 

“I’m not scared of you.” You announced, entirely firm. 

With your heart thumping at the exact same rapid pace, Derek couldn’t tell if this was a lie or not. 

“But-” He tried to argue, and you cut him off. 

“I have a medical condition.” You explained. 

He looked at you with curiosity, and you continued. 

“It’s called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. It means that my entire nervous system is whack - and my heart speeds up or slows down when it’s not supposed to. Because the part of my brain that controls my heart rate is… broken. It also causes me to faint. Way too often.” 

Derek hated to hear you speak of yourself as ‘broken’, because he saw you as such a kind, perfect person. But he chose not to say anything about it. 

A hint of sadness, pity, drifted across Derek’s features - anybody else would have missed it, but since meeting him, you had focused on seeing beneath the surface of his bruteness, and you had started picking up on everything more than the toughness he projected. 

“Do you… need to go to a hospital?” He asked, concerned about the fact that your heart had been racing for more than an hour now. 

“No.” You assured him. “It’s like this all the time. I just need a lot of water - and rest.” 

He nodded. 

“So - you’re not afraid of me?” He confirmed gently. 

“No.” You nodded. “You’re really not that scary.” 

You flopped back onto the bed in order to lay down, but you didn’t miss the tiny uptick at the corner of his mouth - the small flash of a smile that he gave you at these words.

[littleplantfreak]

Run my hands through - Umemiya Hajime

Made a post about how much i loved Ume with his hair down yesterday and ended up writing something entirely self indulgent //gestures at this official art too

-SFW (but almost wasn't I almost got super carried away but deleted it cause I leave smut to the professionals) so uhhh marking/hickeys, hair pulling, makin' out with Umemiya and slightly possessive behavior on readers part but in a silly way if that makes sense just in case anyone has problems with that stuff.

You're looking at him more than usual. Umemiya can feel your eyes boring into the back of his head while he's re-potting plants on the roof. He asked you about it before but all you do is hum and say you think you're staring a normal amount. Of course he doesn't mind, but it feels like he's under a microscope. When he asked Kotoha if she knew why you were acting weird, she shrugged and said you'd were looking at some old pictures at the children's home so maybe you'd just been noting how different he looked in his childhood pictures. She ended it with a look and tone that conveyed you'd already asked her to keep something secret.

-----

It's his hair again. The hair that's always gelled back in a slight wave keeping it out of his face completely. It's not hard to break it free from the glassy prison he molds it into though. There have been plenty of times strands fell forward from sweating, working or fighting, but you've never seen it fully down in person. That's why, when you saw a semi-recent picture of him with his siblings, long hair falling in his face, trimmed neatly with ends blunt, you started to feel a certain way about it. You innocently asked Kotoha if she had any more pictures of Ume like that.

"Like what?"

"Like with his hair down."

"Oho you have a thing for his hair now?" She teases and although you know she won't tell him if you ask her not to, you're still embarrassed at being found out so easily.

"He's my boyfriend! I have a thing for nearly everything about him."

"But anyone can tell you're kinda obsessed with it with how much you fix and touch it throughout the day. Just ask him to wear it down for you."

It's not that you hadn't thought about it, but the more you thought, the more you started getting frustrated. Why didn't he wear it down more often? It seems like he did in old pictures. If he hated it now you didn't wanna force him to change it

Your self control was pretty good, but once you'd started really looking it was impossible to stop. His most recent fight with Shishitoren had haphazard strands in his face dislodged by sweat and aggressive movement. Of course you were concerned with the wounds spanning across his face and body, but another part of you wanted to eat him alive with how good he looked. You're not quite sure you'd be able to stop yourself from jumping him if you saw him with his hair fully down. Sitting in a chair on the roof, you watch him and think about the feeling of running your fingers through his white locks unhindered by that damn tough gel he puts in.

"Pumpkin can you hand me the small pruning sheers to your left?" he calls over without looking over at you.

"Mhmmm," you barely reply still stuck in a daze.

Pruning sheers...

Right!

You snap out of the daydreams that'd been haunting you to stand and grab them. Just as you're about to hand them over, Umemiya grasps the wrist with the sheers and pulls gently but firmly to drag you down on the ground with him. He sets the sheers down before taking both your hands in his.

"Something on my face? You've been starin' an awful lot."

"Ahh dirt, if I had to guess," a halfhearted excuse while your brain continued to process things slower than usual.

"Sweetheart baby love of mine," he is all dramatics now stringing pet names together in a silly amalgamation. Once he starts making direct eye contact it's hard to look anywhere else, "you have got to tell me whats going on in that beautiful head of yours. I love the attention but if something's bothering you-"

"It's your hair!" You spit out in a panic, drawing your hands away to cover your face in embarrassment. You can tell he's a little worried and it makes you feel even worse for making a big deal about it.

"My hair bothers you?" He's confused. Of course he is. It isn't something you've brought up in the past after all. He thought you liked his hair since you were always fixing it for him and you do. Your voice is muffled by your hands but he can still understand to a point.

"It looks great and I love it, but I reaaallly wanna see it down," you can hear yourself whining the words instead of saying them normally. "You always have it up when you're at school," taking a deep breath as your hands come off your face to speak more clearly. "I was looking at pictures with Kotoha and they're pretty much all of you with your hair down." Taking a second you twirl one of his loose strands around your finger in lieu of staring again, sincerely embarrassed you let it get to you this bad. He finally puts the pieces together from his conversation with Kotoha earlier.

"Our date night's tomorrow right? I'll wear it down then," he says, letting you mess with his hair. He can see a jolt go through you at his words and you lock eyes with him immediately.

"Really? Really really?" You're just about vibrating in place, grabbing his face with both hands and squishing his cheeks.

"Rweawy rweawy rweawy!" His breath is coming out of his nose in amused puffs due to the quick shift in enthusiasm and your hold on his face.

"I'VE GOTTA GO PICK MY OUTFIT OUT OH MY GOD ILOVEYOUBYE!" A small peck on the nose and you're gone like the wind throwing open the door and running past Sugishita who was on his way up the stairs. The long haired boy looks back at Umemiya with wide, questioning eyes before letting the moment pass, his head dips in the usual greeting before he walks over to do the daily gardening tasks.

_____

“I changed my mind we can’t go out tonight.”

“Babe you’re all dressed up and you were so excited to check out that new restaurant near the park,” Hajime sighs exasperated. You’re in the foyer of his home, hands on both sides of the door frame blocking his escape.

“Not looking like that you aren’t! Do you want every girl in a 20 mile radius to fall for you? The men too? I’ll have to fight every single one of them and of course I’d win but imagine the casualties! The collateral damage!” you cry hanging your head in fake hysterics. Both Kotoha and their other siblings have been watching this two-part comedy special for about 10 minutes now, two minutes of which you just STARED at him. Then you began circling like a hawk looking at him from any and all angles as if to commit it to memory. Then you started laying on the compliments and pick up lines but he could tell you meant every one of them. “Who is this absolute knock out in front of me? Is my boyfriend a model now? Did it hurt when you fell because I’m staring at an angel.”

Which brought you both to the current scene and while you were (for the most part) joking, you also…weren’t. You could and probably are just extremely biased but GOD you think no one could pull off that hair quite so well. Usually it takes a lot to make Umemiya blush, but his face is currently stained red by how brazen you are at the moment. He’s smiling and trying to take it in stride but even Kotoha can tell he’s affected by your display and she's relishing it.

“No more arguing,” he picks you up by the waist and hoists you to him in a hug that leaves your face in his chest and feet off the floor. “We’re heading out now.” He sends a farewell back to your amused audience and the kids yell back a cacophony of teases and calls for their onee-san and onii-san to come back soon. You start muffling unrecognizable words into his shirt before he puts you down as he gets further down the street.

“It would’ve been one of the best ways to die if i’d stayed there a little longer,” you breathe and stumble back a bit.

“You are shameless today,” he laughs and goes to hold your hand. Anyone watching you both can tell you're grossly in love by the dreamy look on your face as you watch him while you walk down the street. You realize now that this is the first time in about two weeks you have him to yourself, which may be why you've been clingier than normal. Every time either of you tried to schedule date night with the other, someone or something came up and made you push date night back.

Going two weeks without any prolonged physical contact (save for hello and goodbye hugs or kisses) with your boyfriend has made you starved for him in every way your brain can fathom, which is why it isn't surprising that you end up dragging him through the park to an alcove you know isn't traveled to often. It also isn't surprising when you sit him down on the bench bracing a knee next to him, and pinning him loosely in place. He doesn't say a word, but tilts his head up slightly angled in favor of you closing the distance, daring you with those stormy grey eyes.

Your hands find their way easily to the soft ivory of his hair, delving deeper to twist and pull him in. Caught between a sigh and a moan, Umemiya Hajime is melting into you, lines blurring and nerves on fire. His hands fumble to grab the thigh closest to him as he moves you to straddle him. You haven't let up on your assault on his senses, fingers loosening their hold to rub small circles into his scalp.

Is this how you feel when he goes all out after stress starts to take it's toll on him? Now that he thinks about it he's always been the one to initiate this kind of thing, but god he would've asked you to take the lead sooner if he knew it felt this good. Heartbeat thrumming through his hands, he runs them in a soothing pattern from the top of your hip to you knee giving your legs the occasional extra squeeze.

A wave of calm shifts the clouds filling your head out as you have an idea. Parting from him briefly you start kissing and mouthing your way down to the collar of his shirt. He squeezes your thighs harder as your breath ghosts his neck and you give it a few experimental nips before cooling the spot with your tongue. He's trying to stifle a high pitched noise in the back his throat but once you hear it you latch on biting and sucking a single bright red mark. A soft breath over your work before you sit back to admire it. The mark peeks out just enough for you to see it right now but low enough that when he's wearing his furin jacket, he'll be able to hide it.

"That was-," you start, still breathless.

"Wow," he voice cracks at the same time. His eyes are a little wild but his hair is even wilder, sticking up in some directions and falling flat in others. Giving a small tap on his arm he releases the deathgrip he had on you before his eyes stick right to where he had been holding. Blue bruises are scattered over both legs where his fingers were, but they're just barely hidden once you fix your dress.

"Guess we're uh...even?" you're suddenly bashful at what was probably the same type of stare you've been giving him for a week straight now. Umemiya runs his own hands through his hair trying to catch his breath and make himself a little more presentable too.

"No way are we close to being even you little monster. After dinner I'm getting you back," and you can tell he's not bluffing.

"I'm shaking in my shoes Haji," you shot back feeling a bit more like yourself as you go to grab his hand. He moves towards you but you end up spun around and he picks you up for the second time that night, this time settled on carrying you bridal style.

"Put me down," you squeak in warning, the skirt of your dress no longer hiding the fresh bruises.

"This is part of your punishment sweetheart. Also, no one's coming after me if I carry you around like a princess right?" It was hard to argue with that logic and to be fair, despite your earlier boldness your legs ended up weak. He had probably seen the shaky steps you took towards him a second ago.

Both of you got to the restaurant in time despite the detour and the next day you were sporting a hoodie to hide the payback you took happily after.

[merakiui]

https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/744520913494671360/azul-who-was-spoiled-as-a-child-so-he-believes?source=share

Mera are you not going to elaborate 👀 on how,,,, absolutely entitled tako would be with his not so subtle complex and also riddle who deserves this okay? This is all he's truly ever wanted and by golly he will see it through to the end! He can get through any trial or tribulation so long as he can put it in you

And ofc the tweels are soooooo sex brained that ur opinion doesnt even matter, they dont even have to justifying themselves bc there is no justifying- they want you? They got you!

ACTUALLY........ now that you say this, my thoughts can be expressed more succinctly!!!!!

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, non-con, brief mention of slut-shaming, obsession, everyone is just really horrible here)

Azul's mother and stepfather who know their son could do no wrong, so they're shocked and appalled when you start accusing him of something so disgusting. How dare you accuse him of such a horrible crime! He would never! Your parent(s) sits down with the Ashengrottos to discuss and hopefully smooth things over. Azul is so sickeningly sweet and cordial throughout the entire thing while you look scared out of your skin. You insist he's lying, that you're telling the truth, that this is what happened. But then his stepfather threatens to take the matter to court. He knows the law. In the end, you're forced to drop it because your family can't afford a trial right now.

On your way out, Azul smiles at you. Even at twenty-something, he's still their spoiled brat. So entitled! Because he got everything he could ever want from his mother when he was a child, he automatically assumes he'll have you without any problems. But you just had to reject him in elementary. You just had to make a fool out of him in front of the class. It's your fault he couldn't have the one thing he's always wanted. But now he's so much better than his past self, and this time he's not taking no for an answer.

I think it would be a similar situation with Riddle. His mother refuses to believe her son could do any wrong, and the fact that you—some slut who shouldn't be near her Riddle to begin with—have the gall to throw around such wild accusations... You must have been raised so poorly to forgo basic manners and social etiquette. Riddle apologizes profusely for causing such trouble, but his story isn't the truth. You watch him lie to his mother's face and she believes him because he's Riddle Rosehearts, the paragon of pristine perfection. Of course if you and your parent(s) continue to press the matter, Mrs. Rosehearts will threaten to sue and when you're up against the Queendom of Roses's most renowned magical doctor with her prodigious son who could never do any wrong... Surely it's impossible from the start.

Riddle does feel bad. Somewhat. Deep down he knows it's wrong, but he's never had anything special before. Everything has always been chosen for him. He's never had friends. He's never had any hobbies. He's never had a life. And when he saw how radiantly you would shine while passing through campus with your group of friends, he just had to have you. You're like those forbidden strawberry tarts from his youth. He knows it's bad, but he can't help wanting to indulge even if it breaks rules. He's been so good. Surely he's allowed one treat! If it makes you feel any better, he was just as anxious as you were when he mixed that stuff into your drink.

And the twins... oh, the twins. >_< terrible. Their mother babies them incessantly. In canon, it's noted that she tends to call them frequently (nearly every day) because she worries. So she absolutely spoils them rotten. Those are her babies; of course she will! Papa Leech is just as adoring, I'm certain, but then I feel like his love is more of a "tough love" type. In any case, the twins won't accept the word no because they're so used to just getting things. Those sturgeon scales they proudly wear? Those were won through a fight. They want and then they take. It's simple.

So the fact that you'd tell either of them no... Unheard of. All of Floyd's smiley pretenses drop when you reject him. Jade can keep up his own placidity, if only to give you another chance so that you won't whine about how unfair it was in the aftermath: "Would you like to think more carefully about your decision?"

Whatever happens, you can't say or do anything. No one's going to speak ill against the Leech family. They can't. That's just how it is.

[heartscara]

︵ᕬ⑅ᕬ︵ written by a minor please read with caution.

꒰ྀི ๑•‌◡<๑ ིྀ꒱ 𝒷𝒾𝒷𝒾 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 . . . ⊹ ׂ since no one will give my bby love i will :<< . ੭

꒰ ⊃ ⸝⸝ ⊂ ꒱ ׅ ﾞ  ׅ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ݁ ☆ ࣪ ꒰ scummy aether x pretty neighbor transmale reader !!̲ ✎ … pretty self indulgent ノtransmale anatomy ノ boxer-stealing ノ he!him pronouns and masculine(?) terms are referred to reader ノ perverted behaviors(from aether). ꒱

scummy aether whos just a general pervert, living in a cheap apartment solely bc he's broke college student it was a miracle to see a pretty boy like you living next to him, he can't help but look forward seeing you every morning with that cute smile plastered on your face as you went on your way to hug him pressing your body to him his moments of happiness feeling everlasting up until you get yourself off of him

scummy aether who would use any excuse to touch you inappropriately, its not like your dumb brain will notice right <33 dont worry he’s only holding your waist to make sure you won't fall like last time did, aint he such a good friend <33 dont worry your pretty boy mind about having no seats left you can sit on his lap while you order your favorite drink <33 it takes him alot of urge to just not push your body on the table and fuck your boypussy!! <33

scummy aether who always comes in your apartment you dont mind as you welcome your best friend in your humble abode showing him everywhere. you two hanging out together as friends in your bedroom which was cutely decorated with all sorts of cute things such as stuffed animals, frilly curtains, flowers lights and more!! scummy aether who once you get out of your room to get him something he secretly steals your boxers putting it in his pockets hiding them, you always wonder why you were missing so many underwear oh well you’ll just buy new ones!

scummy aether who puts cameras around your house <33 dont worry hes just making sure no one would easily get in your house except him of course <33 seeing you naked in your bathtub happily taking your time in the bath or seeing you change <33 god its so sexy he wants to barge in and make you scream his name in the entire apartment building

scummy aether who just wanna make your boy cunt squirt <33 gosh he wanna see it squirt on his cock, tongue, thighs, etc etc, he wanna see you helplessly calling his name as you give him scratches on his back <33

scummy aether who sniffs your boxers inhaling your sweet sweet angelic scent as he then uses it to jerk off imagining you calling him parting your thighs spreading your already wet cunt for him showing him how wet you are for him

scummy aether who thinks he deserves you so much, he has helped so many people, has been kind, patient and has been your friend ever since he moved in here dont you think he deserve you? he deserves that pretty boy? he deserves that cute cunt gushing on his cock, he deserved your helplessly angelic moans of his name

[peacheises]

♥️Lyney with a reader who is tired and showing signs of depression♥️

Angst/Comfort♥️

Self Indulgent♥️

It'll be one that you'll wanna read before you go to sleep so you have good dreams and end the night with positive thoughts:)

TW: Depressing in the beginning, anxiety, just lack of a will to really be a person anymore really. Reader is sick too. Possible eating disorder eluded to?

Written before I went to bed! I'll proofread in the morning♥️♥️♥️

Everything has felt so heavy lately. Your arms, you legs, your head, your brain- everything feels so dense. It feels like you are melting and not in a good way. Everyone looks at you weird and you can hear the judging whispers behind your back. Your nose was stuffed and your hands were sweaty. But you couldn't take off your layers. You can't stand to be exposed.

It was such a struggle to keep your eyelids open and sit up straight whenever you sat down. How long had you slept today?? Somewhere from twelve to fourteen hours you think but you weren't sure. No matter how much you slept it never got any better. That sleepy sluggishness never went away. You weren't sure when this started or why it started, it just sorta did.

You started noticing little petty, sad things more often. Those depressing articles on the newspaper were suddenly ldrawing your eyes in more often- the whispers of passerbys were suddenly louder. Your dear fiance, Lyney's late arrivals home lately suddenly left you feeling lonelier for some reason. You knew he wasn't cheating on you, although you know he has his own secrets of which he is entitled, he would never stoop to something as low as that. He was just working overtime again which stressed you out like it would any respectable future wife/husband. Maybe that's what gotten to you.

You shifted in the cotton covers of your bed to your other side, sniffing. This sickness had stuck with you for an entire month. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but you did struggle to eat sometimes. You hadn't actually thrown up, but sometimes you just couldn't stomach the thought of food and after eating you felt like you would.

You had only left the bed once today to go to the market and purchase something for Lyney. You can't even remember what it is you bought or why you felt the sudden urge to go get him something but you do remember you left it on his night stand. He hadn't really done anything super spectacular lately but he was always so sweet and kind to you so you suppose the guilt and need to do something just built up over time. You had always been pretty bad about that, feeling guilty. Like you weren't doing enough or that you weren't good enough. Especially for Lyney. You still can't believe he asked you to marry him.

(("Hello? My love are you awake?"))

You must have been thinking too loudly and your thoughts summoned him because his voice and the creaking of the door pierced the once silent room.

(("Oh my, at least tell me you've left bed to feed yourself today!"))

Lyney said as he stepped in the room to opened the curtains much to your dismay after setting his magician's hat on your nightstand,

(("Don't open the curtains the sun is my worst enemy."))

You mutter as you grab a pillow and hide you head under it.

(("Well good afternoon to you too (N/N)!"))

He chuckled as he headed over to your shared closet, changing into a much more comfortable outfit.

(("Got you something at the market, s' on your nightstand Lyn."))

You lazily pointed to the nightstand, head still hidden under the pillow.

(("Oh? What could I have done recently that was so superb that my dear (Y/N) got out of bed and left the house to fetch me a reward?"))

Lyney teased as he pulled a white oxford over his head, buttoning the last couple buttons up.

(("Just love you."))

You muttered while shifting sides again. You felt the weight of the bed shift and the pillow raise from your head. A pair of cheeky lavender eyes gleaned at you paired with a wide, Cheshire smile, Lyney's smile.

(("There's that gorgeous face~!"))

You felt yourself growing more tired by the second, almost like Lyney was sucking your energy away or something. Either way you were too tired to even verbally respond so you just lazily blinked at him and hoped he could read your mind.

(("My, did you use up all your energy going out? Love, as much as I am proud of you for leaving the house and grateful for you generosity, you simply cannot wear yourself out!"))

Lyney chided as he caressed your cheek which you gladly accepted,

(("It's just as bad for you to use up all your energy at once as it is for you to sit in bed all day and do nothing! Oh my, this is probably my fault for coming home so late recently..."))

The blonde fretted and frowned,

(("I know! I haven't any shows for the next 2 weeks seeing as they are repairing our usual stage, so I shall spend the whole of those 2 weeks with you helping you back to your feet!"))

He beamed so radiantly it was almost annoying. Keyword, almost. Lyney could never actually be annoying to you. You still groaned and hid your face under the pillow again to hide yourself from his bright attitude much to his amusement though.

Lyney kicked off his shoes and stretched himself, yawning.

(("Well I suppose I am tired too so a nap can't hurt, right? But when I wake up I expect you to get up with me for some dinner love! Think you can do that for me?"))

His amethyst eyes stared into your lazy (e/c) ones, how could you deny him any request when he looks at you like that? You lazily shook your head yes and he smiled brightly before pulling you in for some cuddles.

It was gonna take some time, but Lyney was determined to pull you out of this funk you've gotten yourself into no matter how long it takes. After all, he does loves you.

[prince-liest]

self-indulgent 3zun ABO AU because I like putting JGY into ~situations~

Alpha NMJ, beta LXC, and omega JGY who has been masquerading as a beta in typical ABO trope fashion, except the dramatic omega reveal happens way back when he murders the Nie captain and gets kicked out of Qinghe.

(I really do wonder what an ABO universe would do to them, psychosocially-speaking, considering that their major flaws can be pretty neatly sorted into “stereotypical” ABO roles that can be used to malign them: Nie Mingjue’s saber-induced anger issues and prior jumping to conclusions, Lan Xichen’s tendency to peacekeep with his loved ones and mold himself into a mediator to a fault, and Jin Guangyao’s....... entire existence as, basically, a tiny venomous snake.)

Present day is post-war Jinlintai before anyone I like (read: JYL, JZX) dies, where 3zun are forced to figure (just enough of) their shit out earlier—WAY earlier—and have been in not just a sworn brotherhood but a mate bond for a while now because in a world with synaesthesic scent markers and mating bites, you don’t get to take things like that back...

... At the very beginning of which bond, NMJ, still incensed and affected by Baxia's resentment, basically accepts the relationship on the bad-faith condition that JGY doesn't "pull any of that manipulative omega shit.” Would he say something like that about Nie Huaisang? No, but he’s just reaching for what hurts. When asked to elaborate on what that actually means, he doesn’t actually have anything in mind and thus rifles around in his mental sack of negative omega stereotypes for all of three seconds before clarifying that he’s talking about all that nonsense with baiting people with heats and baby trapping and whatnot.

JGY, the bitter little gremlin that he is, takes this the worst way possible and has since been taking heat suppressant ✨️indefinitely✨️. We all know how that goes. Maybe he runs out, maybe his body gives out, but most likely Jin Guangshan decides that getting JGY knocked up and too busy to politically machinate against him in addition to all the political machinating he’s doing for him is to his benefit, and arranges the botching of the preparation of whatever tea JGY takes to make this happen. Ideally right in time for NMJ and LXC to be at Jinlintai.

Except this isn’t a sexy, “Oh no, I’m a secret omega and I went into heat! My love must now ravish me!” story. Despite his best efforts, everyone already knows JGY is an omega. Despite his best accidental counterefforts, he technically has two mates already. And still, three hours into NMJ and LXC’s visit, when he realizes what is happening, he fucking panics.

Heat brain isn’t fun brain. Heat brain on top of the writhing bag of neurotic rats that runs JGY’s brain is worse. He’s fucking dead, he thinks. NMJ definitely hates omegas other than his brother (has he met any others? JGY can’t remember, which is terrifying, because JGY remembers everything), and only tolerates JGY’s omega-ness because he’s on suppressants. Da-ge is going to be so mad. And er-ge is going to have to mediate again. Unacceptable! Mortifying! Possibly not an issue because he thinks he might be having a heart attack and dying!

He spends two hours wedged into an emergency bolt-hole he built into his quarters while LXC sits outside going “pspspsps” and NMJ guiltily retrieves increasingly unfeasible amounts of food from the kitchens. It does not end up a sexy heat. It ends up a “hold the hyperventilating omega while he repeatedly forgets how to breathe” heat, because the body is not going to do sexy times while experiencing the most dramatic fight or flight instinct JGY has ever felt. Thanks, chemically-induced hormone imbalance.

(Da-ge turns out to be a good weighted blanket. Compression is good for the anxiety. And guilt turns out good for forcing people to talk things over.)

(And nobody gets pregnant.)

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Ended up yapping about drawing a lot (again) so just a couple of replies today oops

Anonymous asked:

I have to ask, where do you get the motivation to draw so much? I will do half a sketch and than feel every ounce of motivation drain from my body.

Thank you so much for your question, Anon!

I talked about it in this reply, but I also wanted to talk about it again and add to it a little, so sorry if I repeat myself.

I think a lot me being motivated is a mix of habit, discipline and, frankly, positive reinforcement. It sounds like I’m training a dog (that is myself) lol but hear me out.

Everyone has their own approach to drawing, but I personally think it’s important to develop a habit. Like an actual habit, when drawing is a part of your schedule and you have an actual timeslot for it. You don’t have to draw every day for 5 hours; even if you draw every other day for an hour or two, even if you draw once a week for like 40 minutes, over time your brain will start to switch to the drawing mode every time it happens. I’ve been drawing pretty much always for my entire life, so it’s probably easy for me to say, but even now I have separate timeslots for drawing commissions and drawing fanart; and when I was a student, I used to have certain classes that weren’t as important, I could just draw for 1.5 hours during those. It wasn’t an intentional conditioning/training of my brain, it always happens pretty naturally, but I think the fact that I always had these unintentional timeslots for drawing played a huge role in me having this habit.

I’m also trying not to multitask when I draw. I listen to some videos/music or talk with Katsu most of the time that sit down to draw, but nothing more than that: if I have to also look something up, actively scroll my feed, snack or do something else, it ruins the flow :( I guess the flow is the key.

When it comes to positive reinforcement, what I mean is that drawing is always associated with good things for me. The fact that if I have a sketch, I get to show it to Katsu and everyone, the fact that I could draw any ship that I want, the fact that I can share my ideas via my drawings, the fact that I got better at drawing some detail while working on a sketch, the fact that I completed a sketchbook, the fact that I got to use some fun tools like markers or something; try to find something good about your sketches because as long as you are working on them, even the failed ones are important: they are your stepping stone towards getting better. It’s frustrating at first, but it does get better and much easier the more you push.

In contrast to this, if you always feel disappointed or frustrated by the end of your drawing session, your brain just won’t want to come back to it. Or you won’t want to finish the sketch (either because you don’t like how it looks anymore or because you are afraid of ruining it), which isn’t really much better. So whenever you feel stuck, I would suggest you draw something that is super easy for you and that you really love drawing, to get this “easy win” and end on a high note. Also, when it comes to sketches, it’s always better to finish them as much as possible. I don’t know, I guess the feeling of completion actually works better on your motivation? And if you are dissatisfied with it it’s okay; you’ll have a lot of sketches in the future, maybe you’ll redraw this one at some point when you are more rested and experienced. It’s like returning to an earlier level boss after upgrading a bunch… is this how it works? I am no gamer, so I have no idea.

Hmm, I guess other than “get those easy wins”, another advice would be to be as self-indulgent as possible. If you won’t draw what you want to draw, no one will; you are your own content creator. Maybe don’t share your ideas with your friends to give you that extra boost of motivation: “if I finish this drawing, I get to tell them about this AU”/”if I finish this sketch at least somehow, I get to tell them that I like this character a lot”. Those little conditions motivate me a lot.

If the drawing is complicated, make it a project. Do a sketch one day, tackle the lineart the other day, then dedicate the entire day to making sure that the base colour looks good; as long as you are invested in those steps and keep drawing, it’s okay if they are small. You will have a complete drawing after some time, and it should boost your motivation to some degree.

AND! HAVE FUN! Please make the drawing process as fun as possible! This is like number one rule lol

I hope all this made some sense, and if you have any questions, please let me know.

blitzdragonking asked:

Take a look at this article.

Good for them, but also I am not sure what exactly is going to change… I feel like people have been using the censor thingie for a while now. 🤔 Well, it’s always better to get this kind of news than “we are now banning all explicit content” type of news…

If only their support got better at replying in time 😔

Anonymous asked:

What kind of kisses do think the twst boys prefer? You know, French kissing, rapid fire quick kisses, etc…

Actually replied! <3

Anonymous asked:

I want to pull Fellow’s big, fluffy tail (affectionate)

SAME. I’m thinking about it every time I see him. This fluffy tail is…criminal…

[stargirlfics]

Thinking about asking soft dom!Alfred, to be a bit rougher with you, specifically asking him to spank you. I’d imagine it would go something like this. You’d never been much of a brat (absolutely nothing wrong with brats, though! /gen it's just that he's never had a reason to “punish” you ), and you and Alfred had never really indulged in rougher play before; he’d always treated you delicately, acting as if you were made of glass.

And while you loved what you all had done so far, you couldn’t help but want a bit more. The thought of his hands on you, spanking you, then soothing over the heated flesh was almost too much. So you finally muster up the courage to ask him if that's something he would be comfortable trying.

He wouldn't give you an answer immediately. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, far from it. But being the responsible dom, he is he wants to talk to you about it first. He knows you can get into your own head sometimes, and he wants to make sure that you aren’t punishing yourself for some perceived wrong and to ensure you’re in the right headspace. You’re his best girl the last thing he would want is for you to feel bad, but when you admit you’ve been curious about it for a while and you wanted to give it a try, but it never really came up, he’s all for it. Who is he to deny his angel what she wants?

He’d have you bent over his lap, reminding you of your safe word and telling you to use it if you ever want to stop or take a break (because it doesn’t matter to him that it was your idea he always wants you to feel safe and loved). But when he actually spanks you? You feel euphoric. His hands caressing you, warming the area up before spanking you, feels so perfect; it’s everything you wanted. Each spank makes you feel a bit hazy, all of the attention he’s giving you as he gauges your reactions is almost overwhelming.

And you just know he would praise you the entire time

“Always so sweet, so good asking for what you want. Is this what you needed? Needed daddy to be a little rougher? Don’t worry, love. I’ll always give you what you need”

“Sound so pretty darling keep making those cute noises for me”

“That's all my angel needed huh? Taking it so well”

You’d be practically rutting into his lap by the time you’re finished, and Alfred always takes care of his lovely, so you’d be in for a reward for sitting so well for him and asking for what you want <3

It is so early, and this is so self indulgent, but I love soft dom!Alfred he's simply the best and I thought you’d appreciate it too

This is all I’ve been able to think about since I read this over during my lunch and oh my god!!!! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

It’s like you climbed into my brain! The thought of Alfred being a little rougher stays lurking in my head I swear and this all feels so perfect!!! He would express that he’s open to it but definitely wants to make sure you’re not asking him this as a way to punish yourself in any way and it’s that, him being so thoughtful and respectful and responsible about it that has you burning for it even more!

That dialogue has me in shambles I can hear him saying those lines!! “Needed daddy to be a little rougher?” I suddenly don’t remember how to breathe, I love it! Of course he’s gonna give you everything you want, and it’s so damn sweet to him that you’re turned on so much, that you just needed some firmness to his touch, yeah the praise would be through the roof

Most definitely appreciating this ask you’re absolutely correct, thank you so much for sharing it with me!! 😍

[megumi-fm]

resuming to productivity

hey besties I haven't been regular for a while now and i think it's finally time to admit the elephant in the room. I'm not going to use words like executive dysfunction and burnout because if i'm entirely honest I don't really know what they mean and I'm afraid that I'd be appropriating these terms and/or greatly exaggerating my situation, but yeah, I'm struggling. I've been struggling for a while

A lot of work has been piling up over the weeks and for that exact reason I don't wanna do any of it and then more keeps piling up and. the vicious cycle just keeps going. I've been consuming way too much caffeine for my own good, and on the days I don't have access to coffee/energy drinks (which is usually the weekends when I'm home and my mom refuses to indulge my caffeine addiction) I'm passed out for most hours of the day. I'm avoiding most of my problems by doom-scrolling and my friends have been gaming on discord so I conveniently join them instead of getting any of my work done. And it's not like I'm enjoying either; everything I do to avoid work, I do while feeling completely stressed out and frozen. It's been... bad

and like yeah I know that at the root of all this procrastination and avoidance is really just a huge fireball of fear and apprehension and. I'm just so worried about how things are going to go. it feels like the time I have is so little and like I'm supposed to have planned out everything for the rest of my life in the next three months or something and. yeah. I feel compulsively driven to not even try. and instead of sitting with my resistance and processing these super unpleasant emotions I spent the past week trying to block out my brain and jump directly into a routine. and that went about as well as you'd expect. I was irritable and tired and I got nothing done.

so, yeah, I've been forced back into the healthy mature path of taking care of myself. Although it was obvious from the very beginning I always tend to learn the hard way- to be truly productive i need to pay attention to how I'm feeling.

---

I've decided I'm not gonna consider the last six days for my days of productivity. I'm noting today as day 45 of 100. Maybe I'll make a separate dop post by the end of the day, but we'll see. Note to self- completing any task, big or small, is good progress. I tend to get overexcited and take on wayy more than I'm equipped to hold, I wanna try to be aware of when I do that. yeah. this week is gonna be the 'in-my-feels' week

[wifeglor]

14, 21 for maemag, 22 for gap pussy

hi hi!!! (From this list)

14. What are your favorite smut tropes?

I feel like you know them already :D But hmmmm more seriously... I think in general, I have "will think about something I initially found off-putting too hard and decide actually it is hot/fun/wtv" disease, so this would be a long and very inclusive list. I love a good power dynamic in smutfic (good in the sense of a fine vintage, not moral good), whether it's like a fun thing a sweet couple is playacting, an underlying reality for a ship, or outright dubcon/noncon. Obviously "power dynamic" can fit a billion tropes, but I love very many of those tropes for that underlying reason lmao. Also, I love when there's a lot of emotion, be it DRAMA, or angst, or hurt/comfort, or anything else. Obviously those strike different notes and it depends on the story, but like while I think it can be less "sexy" than pure porn I LOVE SO MUCH reading a good like "magical healing dick" conclusion to an arc of longing and woes. It's an orgasm of the SOUL. Or "magical healing baby spawned from magical healing dick," I am Not Immune to this (it's about the Cherishing). Also, I love those ppl on AO3 who are out there writing the most fucked up (affectionate) monsterfucking oneshots ft. worldbuilding with their original characters and original universes--doing Eru's work. ALSO I remember once upon a time being judgy about omegaverse and laugh because wow that really didn't last long on my part as soon as I opened those fics and realized there was longing inside.

21. Share a smutty headcanon about [character(s)]. (Maedhros/Maglor)

Wow who are these characters I've never heard of them before...

I feel like I need a whole essay to try to get out all my thoughts about them and it wouldn't entirely make any sense, but I think the one-headcanon version is like. Maglor longs to be claimed by Maedhros and please Maedhros and be absolved and loved and worthy & this translates well in his brain to being penetrated. Maedhros longs to feel like he can effectively take care of Maglor/make Maglor happy (something I think he has real despair and doubt about, but the resigned despair and bitterness that he can't correlates to how much he WISHES to) and also that his control issues/endless responsibility-taking are Working Actually And Perfectly Good & this translates well in his brain to penetrating Maglor (which is on unspoken offer from Maglor whenever Maglor is in the same continent and Maedhros is still breathing). Much love. I think that dynamic remains in play between them regardless of the sex act but this sure is my preference for them.

22. Share a DVD commentary on [one of your smut fic/smutty scene from a longer work]. (Mapmaking, known in my google docs folder as "gap pussy")

YEAHH okay. So this one has been lurking almost a full year (I think) as a handful of incoherent notes in my notes app, which sort of sketched out a lot of the dirty talk and action. This was very convenient for finally sitting down and writing it!! Which I had a lot of fun doing; every fic of mine for smut week has been pure self-indulgence. This fic owes a spiritual debt to Death and Taxes, an amazing russingon fic by TheLionInMyBed that was formative in my Maedhros thinking like... very early in my entry to Silm fandom stuff. I just loved Maedhros combining his politics and strategy (never turned off!) with sex and romance in such a blatant, funny, affectionate-but-instrumental way. Also, I've been making "Maglor's Gap " jokes since like. Forever, so it was bound to happen sometime.

The actual "strategy" on Maedhros' part here (aka the policies he wants Maglor to enact) is purely styrofoam porn setup and maybe doesn't really make sense, but I figured that's not what we're here for so I didn't pay it too much mind. What I did want to come through in that aspect of the story was Maedhros' affection for Maglor (kinda understated I think in this fic, but he doesn't want Maglor to die in like, say, dragonfire, and he will do all he can to prevent that. He wants Maglor to be as secure as he can, even though maintaining the siege/leaguer & his own trust & strategy mean Maglor is at great personal risk in this critical position) and Maedhros' tendency to taking leaderly responsibility (he's aware of the risk and that he's asked this of Maglor, & Himring will help out the Gap).

Also, in my head this is a spiritual sequel to my magnum opus Thine Ever, Makalaurë, despite the fact that in between these 2 Gap-era moments, Maglor by miracle of Yavanna's touch gained a pussy. This is a period I associate with a lot of hope for them and a sort of renewing of ties, testing and forging of Maglor's devotion and Maedhros' reliance on it, and Himring!Maedhros=sexiest Maedhros. I'm finding it really fun lately to write humor and dirty talk, both of which are kinda new terrain for me, so that's been delightful on my end. New terrain... ha

[chainsofaether]

Bunch of OoC rambling below the cut. Have a low quality picture of Yrys.

Where to start? I want to just ramble about a few things. I was going to do this big post, or will do, about Yrys and her relationship with magic but then I got in my head that maybe I should chat a bit first. That said I don't overly expect anyone to read this, but if you do enjoy I guess?

So yeah I was gone for a year. I got to the end of content and just kind of struggled to find a place in the rp community. Was less and issue of the community and more just a me issue. Then my brain promptly took a nose dive in to the darker places and I stepped away from the game. Won't go to much in to that but yeah.

I guess a month again I got the urge to play again, well really I had the urge to write again I hadn't the entire year. Which isn't to say I didn't want to write, I had bunch of ideas. Some about Yrys and Ff14 but honestly a lot just of random stuff. Random is the wrong word, just not FF14 stuff. Lots of world building. One day I'll sit down and write out all those idea and see what I can do with them.

But for now practice. Lots and lots of practice. That ask I answered was pretty self indulgent writing. I won't say it was terrible but it wasn't really up to what I want. Which was kind of the point, just write anyway. The more I write the easier it gets.

Okay, but what else am I doing? Part of me wants to say that's a secret and you'll find out soon. But soon is like ten hours from now, give or take. There's going to be a little flier, don't judge me to harshly, for an event that takes place in nine or so days. Daegen has been doing a ton of work on big public events lately and I want help with it because I think it's good. That and best friend. I'll maybe be running the bloodsands stall during so come visit if you want to meet Yrys.

And the bloodsand what a weird place for Yrys to be right? Nothing about her scream wanting to fight. Other then the whole obsessive desire for self improvement and deeper understanding of Aether. Which people that fight tend to be aether users. It seemed like a good place to dip my toes in since it's low investment.

The other thing I want is to find an FC? Or build one? Building one sounds like a ton of work though. Either way I want Yrys to have a place where she can share her magical insights and learn more. While there are a ton of FCs out there that would take a Aetheric researcher, what I want is something more focused then most of the adventuring guilds offer.

Let me ramble about that a moment. Lots of Rp FCs/Guilds in games tend to be as widely accepting as they can be. Like they create multiple section to support almost any type of skill set. Which is fine if that's what you want, but Yrys doesn't really care about hunting monster, or whatever. She cares about Aether, almost to the exclusion of all else. Still I'm not a fool and I get that to be interesting to rp with she needs more deep then that, and there's plenty there I promise. But more she needs to be willing to work with others. The fun think about her studies is some of them are so crazy dangerous they require other people. Which neatly solves the working with people issue. I'll get more in to that in my post about her and magic.

ANYWAY. An FC? I know if I built one I could easily create the place I want. Which is what? A cult? Bundle of researcher? Coven of witches? A place dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge over all over things. A place to share the knowledge. And maybe, just maybe a place to make a few friends. I should probably sit down and consider exactly what I'd build as an ideal and how much of that ideal I'm will to let go of in looking for an FC. There a group going to be at the event that fits the Coven of Witch bit, don't know if I'll have time to talk with them though. But at the same time they seem largely like good people treading a similar but not identical path to Yrys.

That is something that's changed from a year ago. I don't really see Yrys as a good person at this point. Is she evil? Not exactly, but I feel like her willing to cross certainly lines is highly increased as she pushes her research further. Eventually she's going to have to start doing major experiments on herself or other people to make any kind of progress.

Well I should cut it here or this is going to end up some four hundred page mess of all my random thoughts. I'm being very ADHD right now I guess, nothing new there. If you made it this far congrats? I'd give you a gold star if I could for putting up with my nonsense. If you did and have some thoughts about anything said please comment. Or Dm me even.

[zaahraaaa]

what possessed me today in the year 2024 at my dinosaur age (28) to dig up the tumblr i haven't touched since pre-pandemic times?

i mean what better platform is there to write online with total privacy, to indulge my overdramatic self and find some semblance of sanity and also PRACTICE writing in the truest sense of the word. like, practice with the curtains shut and potentially have fun with it.

seeing those last few posts from 2019 was a wake up call: so much has resisted change. *i* have resisted change.

but not completely. 2019 me was trying to rawdog life with a fucked up brain. and while i commend her efforts, 2024 me has been trying something weird and new, which is finally being open to the idea that traditional forms of help might not be so bad. a tiny blurred light at the end of a very long very dark tunnel. when you’re sitting on rock bottom you can finally look up and see the entire brilliant prism of possibilities. there’s a beauty and grace to accepting defeat, the lightness and absurdity. it’s so fucking absurd. the best thing is that the writing dream feels more within my reach than it maybe ever has.

[neopolpleb]

Slashers Opinions on pegging/subbing

Note: This started out as just a self indulgent humorous hc list i started in like mid october but i returned and really got into it so

Contains: Micheal Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Bo Sinclair, and Vincent Sinclair

Warning: Implied afab reader,nsfw content >:), i do go into a TINY bit of detail wit, also like mommy kink is mentioned once in brahms, i got like REALLY into Bo’s and Vincent’s because im in a sinclair brain rot, they also are the most recent ive written, sorry its so disproportionate <\3

Sorry for any misspellings or gramatical errors! Enjoy!

———

Micheal Myers

For once, you have completely taken this man off guard

He whips his head towards you, trying to figure out what you just said

You two sit in silence for a while before he just walks up and leaves

dont ask stupid questions, im sorry, but there is zero chance this man will let you dominate him in any sense <\3

a gal can dream though 😩

I mean just imagine his flushed out face, his long hair draped across the pillow, his hands having a death grip on the sheets

His eyes blown out as he stares back at you, as you absolutely destroy him from above

Jason Voorhees

You’ll have to explain what it is to him

after you finish his face is bright red.

Yes you two have been intimate, plenty of times actually

but you two were fairly vanilla, due to Jason’s mindset on sexual activities

It was simply missionary almost every night, sometimes if a group of tresspassers really got on his nerves then MAYBE doggy style

it may take some convincing and a week or so to think about it but he’d come around

was shocked with how much he enjoyed it, he would never ask you to do it again, but if you ever offered he would be very VERY onboard

i see Jason as a switch with a lean for dom, i feel like most slashers could do with being dominated at least once

let your guard down and let someone take care of you bbys 😩

Brahms Heelshire

“GASP HOW DARE YOU ASK ME THAT?!?!??”

*instant boner*

Definitely has thought about it, i imagine he has like a secret stash of porn mags that he stole from old nannies

maybe one of them was like real into domme stuff and he got ahold of that magazine and was pleasantly enlightened

Brahms is like a switch leaning sub

If you guys have already been intimate you definitely know that

Bringing it up would throw him off entirely

He’d get so flustered and scared, thinking you might’ve found his stash

But after some [very light] convincing he’d be all in

‘If you dont want to its fin-‘

“FINE WELL IF YOU INSIST”

Honestly idek how you would get the strap

Like i guess you could get it with the next order, but also poor Malcom if he catches a glance inside the bag

Brahms definitely loves it

If he didn’t already call you mommy, he definitely does now (unless you dont like that but i cant say it doesnt slip out from time to time, best you gag him)

10/10 would do again

Bo Sinclair

“Do I look gay to you???”

Im kidding im kidding

He’d be probably the least shocked out of all the slashers

I hc Bo as bi or pan maybe

So while he is mainly a dom, this may not be first rodeo if you catch my drift

But still, Bo is someone who needs to be in control, or at least feel like it.

He cant be that vulnerable

I’d like to think that years into the relationship maybe

Bo craves control, but very deep inside, locked away with the key thrown away, he wants to let go, let someone take care of him for a change, take over the responsibility of protecting him as he had done for himself all his life

but it felt as if everytime he ever asked love, affection, comfort, it always was met with pain

Teach him thats its okay to let down his walls and let you take care of him

ALSO JUST LIKE IMAGINE HMNNNNNNN

Grabbing him by the jaw to make him look you in the eyes as his legs are pushed back against his torso, your hips meeting in a never ending pattern, filling the room with sounds of skin colliding as he lets out muffled moans trying to hide the deep moans begging to spill from his mouth

GOD PLEASE LET ME FUCK THIS MAN TILL HIS BRAIN IS MUSH AND ALL HE KNOWS IS MY NAME

Vincent Sinclair

Well I feel like it depends on how your sexual relationship begins

I believe Vinny boy to be a true switch, it really depends on you

So if maybe took the lead throughout your sexual relationship Vincent would have little to no hesitation in deciding that yeah, he does want you to rail him into next week

If you let Vincent take the lead, he’d take some time to think on it

I mean this is the most control he’s every had in his recent life and he’s scared to give it up

But he realizes how much it means to him that you trust him to have dominance over you intimately, who is he to not return that trust

OH BOY

This man will in fact become addicted to the strap

Well more so you being dominant, if you were already the dom in the relationship, then this is no shocker, but if this was the first flip of the roles, then you see how much Vincent is ready to worship your every move

You are his muse, you already knew he adored you, but THIS, this is like adoration x100

Tell him what to do, god, call him your good boy, praise him like there will be no tomorrow, take care of him

Let him fall into deep submission while your hips ram into him over and over again, let him forget about everything, the town, the earth, everything that isn’t you, all he can think about is you and what you’re giving him

[pedrito-friskito]

Congratulations again Kay! I just adore your writing and I’m sending you all the hugs and love! ❤️❤️❤️

So I’m invading your inbox to request smut prompts…

29. You’re safe with me, my love. You know I’d never hurt you.

44. I’m going to mark all the parts I love to show you how beautiful you are.

With the one and only Frankie Morales, it’s been a minute and I just love Frankie so much ❤️

Please and thank you 💕💕💕

ericca sweet angel!! yes please frankie oh my god you love frankie, I love frankie, everybody loves frankie 💕

this was a little self indulgent but I hope you enjoy 😏

🔥friday night fever!🔥

Sometimes living in your own head is a nightmare.

Frankie Morales knows that better than most. His nights are filled with tossing and turning, rarely getting more than the four hours he’s trained himself to survive on. He’s tried everything, sleeping pills and drinking himself into a stupor, smoking enough weed to think he’s living on another planet or just staying up until his body gives out, but none of it works.

You, however, have managed to change everything.

He’s never slept as soundly as he does by your side, his body wrapped around yours, nose pressed into your hair and palms shaped to the curve of your skin. Maybe it’s the thrum of your heart, a steady rhythm he can fall asleep to, or just the feel of you against him. He can’t put his finger on it, but it’s made everything better, made it easier for him to get some shut-eye.

But you, just like him, are only human, and while you may not have been overseas, or seen the hell that Frankie has, you have your own battles, and Frankie takes them in stride, same as you do with him. That’s why it works, why you two help each other more than any relationship either of you has ever had before. It’s fate, maybe, divine intervention, Frankie doesn’t know for certain. But he knows that you love him, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loves you.

And he knows you don’t mean to wake him.

It was a few months before he even realized what was happening. He was so wrapped up in the fact that you made him feel like he could breathe again that it took a while, but now he knows that sometimes, the anxiety that likes to set up shop in your brain some days can keep you up while he sleeps. You’re careful about it, always slipping out of bed so stealthily that it takes him a while to realize you’re gone, finding you sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea in your hands. Or other nights, you don’t make it out of bed, instead perching yourself at the edge of the mattress and just trying to breathe through the attack.

Tonight, it seems, is something else entirely.

You’re still in the bed, still in his arms, but you’re shaking. Instantly, he’s worried. Are you sick? What’s going on? Gently, he rolls you onto your back, pushing the messy hair from your face and smoothing his fingers over your cheek. Your teeth are chattering, shoulders rattling, and Frankie’s whole body is on red alert.

“Babe,” he murmurs softly, trying to rouse you as easily as possible. The soft tone in his voice doesn’t seem to do much, however, because you’re up like a shot, gasping loudly and your eyes going wide. Instantly, he sees the tears on your face, the sharp rise and fall of your chest, and you’re pushing at his hands, scrambling across the bed from him. “Hey!” he calls, voice still soft as possible. “Baby, it’s okay. You were having a nightmare.”

Your breathing is still heavy, but he hears it start to slow as he talks, so he keeps going.

“Come here, babe,” he murmurs, opening his arms wide, waiting for you to make the move. When you start to shuffle towards him, crawling into his grip, he pulls you close. “You’re safe with me, my love. You know I’d never hurt you. You’re safe here, always.”

You nod into his collar, and Frankie can feel the wet drips on his skin, but he pays them no mind. “I know, it just…” You grab hold of him, hands diving into his hair, holding him as tight as possible. He lets out a low oomph, but he doesn’t mind. “It felt so real, and I…” You trail off, shaking your head against him.

Frankie leans you backwards until you’re laid out on the mattress and adjusts himself beside you, propped up on his elbow. He goes slow, letting you track his movements as he makes them, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, running his fingers through your hair, trailing his palm up and down your bicep. He waits for your breathing to steady, for your eyes to drip closed, your hand lifting and pressing to the middle of his chest. 

When he pauses his movements to reach for the blankets, you whimper. “I’m right here, baby,” he reassures you. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what you need.”

Your voice is thick when you open your mouth. “Could you…distract me?”

Frankie’s brow raises as you reach for the hand that’s still moving up and down your arm, curling your fingers around his wrist and pulling it lower. He lets his fingers graze your skin as you pull him where you want, until his fingertips are sliding against the silky skin of your inner thighs. His whole body heats up when he feels how warm you are.

“Baby,” he drawls, leaning his head down to kiss your temple softly. “Are you sure?”

You nod, eyes opening and his throat goes dry at the heat in your gaze, the fear replaced with something else. “I’m sure. You always make me feel better, Frankie, make me feel beautiful.”

“You are beautiful,” he answers, and pushes himself up on his hands, leaning over you, knocking your knees wide with one of his own and settling between them. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He lowers himself slowly, kissing the centre of your chest and then dragging his mouth up, over the curve of your chin until his lips catch on yours. “I’m going to mark all the parts I love to show you how beautiful you are. You understand?”

You make a little squeak of agreement, tossing your head back so he has better access to your skin. He feels your hands on his sides, skimming up his ribs, and your nails dig in as he drags his mouth to your neck, sucking a mark into your pulse. Then he moves lower, your grip moving to his shoulders, and your gasps are music to his ears as he leaves tiny bruises along the underside of your breast, another along the slope of your ribs, and more along the curve of your hip. Your skin is velvet beneath his tongue, and he hums in approval when goosebumps rise on your flesh, back arching into him when he pushes his face between your legs and leaves a bruise right where you’re the most sensitive.

Well, almost the most sensitive.

His eyes flicker up to your face as he moves to that perfect little bud between your legs, sucking it between his lips, hands curling around your widening thighs. You let out a moan that makes him rut into the bed, eyes still glued to your face. He can see the fear and anxiety the nightmare had given you melting away, your every worry replaced with a blissful expression as he licks into you. He keeps you as close to him as he can, drinking you down, helping you find that peak, watching your face as you unravel.

And once you do, he moves back up your body, revisiting the marks he left on the way down, sealing them into your skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing the hollow of your throat. “So much.”

“I love you too, Frankie,” you reply, your voice dreamy and faraway, sleepy and sated. He smiles to himself.

Whatever you need, he’ll do it. Whatever it takes.

—————

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[rillils]

what side of the bed do steve and bucky sleep on

hallo my dearest nonnie :3 here are some thinky thoughts for you, at least the few I could fit here bc the brain wouldn’t stop producing increasingly ridiculous scenarios lol

before the war

when they push their beds together, which is on most nights, Bucky tends to sleep on Steve’s left side, for practical reasons (as well as the simply, purely self-indulgent concept of getting to fall asleep next to Steve, that is):

one, that’s the side where the window is, and on the colder nights, when chilly draughts will creep in through the crack in the broken frame (that’s been sitting askew since about February ’37), Bucky can curl around Steve’s shivering frame, his chest to the curve of Steve’s back, his arm wrapped carefully around Steve’s waist, and shield him from the cold.

(Steve pretends not to know this. Steve may also pretend he’s asleep when he inevitably snuggles back into Bucky’s warmth, and settles his arm over Bucky’s arm, his hand over Bucky’s hand where it spans Steve’s soft stomach – and if somehow their fingers lace together, filling in each other’s gaps, it’s really nobody’s fault.) (Steve does not pretend he doesn’t love feeling the bow of Bucky’s smile against his neck whenever this happens.)

two, laying on this side gives Bucky access to Steve’s good ear; which is good, because Bucky wants Steve to hear him when he whispers Good morning, always spoken first, always sweetest, and listens for Steve’s sleep-rough Mornin’ in return;

when pre-dawn has barely colored their bedroom in soft blue and periwinkle, and Steve tries to roll away and slip out of bed first, have coffee ready in its pot for when Bucky gets up; and Bucky captures him in his arms, cajoles Steve back into their private cocoon; he wants Steve to know it when he murmurs, Shh, we got time. We can stay a while still. He wants Steve to hear him say it, say we, say us, and he wants Steve to catch the meaning behind it, the holy trinity of You and Me and Home hidden in that one syllable, and feel Steve shiver sweetly at the sound of it;

and on those nights – those nights when Steve’s body opens up for him – when Steve guides him inside and lets Bucky move them together–

when he twists his head back to seek Bucky’s mouth, offering up his cheek, his neck to Bucky’s hungry kisses, Bucky needs him to hear it – the desperate whispers of Please, the breathless praise of Stevie, Steve, Steve, so perfect, drivin’ me insane, doll, the helpless stream of I love you, love you – Bucky won’t let Steve miss a single ounce of it.

now

I think, when Bucky first comes back, being hyper-aware of his surroundings most of the time, the instinct to take the side of the bed that’s farthest from the door is strong, even more so when they’re spending the night away from home for one reason or another;

Steve doesn’t mind. Steve doesn’t even wait for him to ask anymore – he simply claims the door side of the bed for himself, places his broad, strong body between Bucky and the lurking shadows outside and makes a point of tangling their legs together under the blankets. If they want you, he’s said before, his lips sealing the vow against Bucky’s temple, they’ll have to go through me.

this doesn’t guarantee that they won’t, occasionally, wake up on the opposite side than the one they fell asleep on;

mainly in the summer, when Steve starfishes his large mountain-sized self in the middle of the mattress, and then Bucky has to work around him and/or crawl over him (any instances of him elbowing Steve in the guts during this process are totally and entirely accidental) just to go take a piss at 2 AM, and crawling back to his original spot is just too much work (and work means more heat, and more heat means more sweat), so he just plops down in the nearest corner available.

(Things may also get interesting on warmer nights because sleepy, overheated Steve has a tendency to chase after Bucky’s metal arm like it’s the holy grail and he’s stuck in an abridged episode of Monty Python, which is why sometimes – but don’t tell anyone – sometimes Bucky detaches the prosthetic from his shoulder, sticks it in the fridge for a couple of hours, and then leaves Steve to hug it like a teddy bear. Honestly, it’s worth it just to hear Steve’s sigh of relief, and watch his brow smooth into serene sleep. It’s nice while it lasts.)

My point is, no matter which side they’re laying on, as long as they’re together, they’re happy either way 💕💕💕