#I do believe that this is the first poem I put so much thought into.

[jaina-chaosweaver-of-fate]

Chasing the prey through the woods, Never quite catching her bloody scars, Forever but unending no matter the moods, No victory into these unending wars,

From wilds to civilizations dregs in bars, Finding her nursing trauma in her drinks, Following through from Venus to Mars, From vision gone in the time between blinks,

Racing through the Solar Links, Round the system do we chase, Rails that lead to new hi-jinks, Resting just before her face,

Garuda caught her finally at rest, Married now she's to the best.

[jeankluv]

loml - Gojo Satoru

summary: You read the letter that Satoru left behind, his last words to you, with all the love he had.

tags: heavy angst, character death, no happy ending, canon universe, manga spoilers (I guess)

note: sorry… but I got emotional with Gojo writing letters for his students and this came to me. Sorry again 🩶

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

You are the love of my life

That’s what Satoru would say on a spring day when you were 20.

You are the love of my life

He would say whenever he kissed you before sleeping.

You are the love of my life 

He would whisper while embracing you, after a long day of missions.

You are the love of my life 

He would say whenever he had the opportunity, it didn't matter if it was just the two of you or in front of the whole world.

You are the love of my life

He said before leaving you to fight Sukuna on that cold Christmas Eve.

To the loml

That was the first thing your eyes saw on the letter that Shoko handed you. The loml You read again. And again.

You smiled a bit, “loml” why not write love of my life instead?

Your hands were cold, you blamed the cold winter, but the reality was that you were frozen staring at that envelope, your hands unable to tear the paper to read what was inside. Your chest hurt, the cold air stabbed your lungs like daggers, and you could barely breathe.

You made a small opening with your nails and pulled out the paper, which was neatly folded. With your eyes already stinging, you unfolded it.

“To the love of my life,

I don’t know how to start this, I don’t even know how to put down everything I want to tell you. But god, I pray you never have to read this silly and embarrassing letter.

But if you do… I’m sorry, I didn’t get to keep my promise, I’m really sorry.

You crying? Please don’t do it, you look beautiful too when you cry, but thinking about how much pain I’m probably causing you breaks my heart.

I will try to make you smile with this letter, is that alright? I hope you said yes. 

Remember when we met? It was the first day of our first year, you looked so beautiful, your red cheeks and shy smile. I don’t believe in love at first sight but I think that what I fell for you right after seeing you was love, light. You were mesmerizing. 

You still are.

Now, you remember how Suguru used to look like a complete emo boy during that time, with all his hair down and everything? You know, I used to be so jealous when you were combing his hair. I wanted to be him so badly, but my hair was too short. Thank god he learned how to do it himself.

But honestly, I told him to, he was getting on my nerves.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as you read that, you knew that at some point Satoru felt a bit jealous of Suguru, because you used to spend more time together. 

But the truth is that Suguru was always trying to help you with Satoru, he was his best friend and he knew him better than anyone. You regret never telling Satoru about that, about the fact you were both crushing each other since the very beginning. 

Looking up to the sky you tried to make your tears disappear, but they didn’t. You sniffed your nose and kept on reading the letters that were already covered with tears from your eyes.

“Remember when I took Tsumiki and Megumi in? We had been dating for what? 4 months? Your face was a poem when I showed up at your apartment with two kids and presented them to you. 

You were an excellent mother to them, they loved you so much. 

I remember the birthdays, how we would prepare their cakes or in Christmas, how we used to sneak out of bed to leave the presents for them. I would always thought; oh god, I want to marry her. I want to spend the rest of my days with her. Have a family with her.

But you know, reality always hit me the second after. What our jobs are, the risks, everything… And I always wondered. Do I want to put you through that? What if I leave one day? I didn’t  want my children to grow up without their father or mother. 

I hated it, but I loved it. I loved fighting curses and strong opponents but I hated not knowing what it was to have a normal life, a normal relationship. 

I know you used to hate how I used to spy on you whenever you had a solo mission, but every time you went on a solo mission I was scared, terrified. I was afraid that the phone would ring and Shoko would tell me that you were no longer there. It scared me so much.

But now the one who must have been truly scared was you… I just hope you didn’t see the fight, but I know how stubborn you are and you were probably there, without blinking. I’m sorry I made you suffer, I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry you’re crying for me. 

I’ll say it again, I hope you never read this letter, because it was never necessary… 

In the end I didn’t make you laugh with the letter, right? 

Forgive me, sweetheart. 

I love you, more than anything in this life. You are and always will be the love of my life. But if I leave and I’m not with you anymore, please, don’t close yourself off, don’t isolate yourself.

Live, be happy, smile, because that smile of yours is the warmest thing in this world.

Light up everyone else's world, just like you did with mine when we were 15 and you gave me that smile at our first meeting.

I love you forever 

— The love of your life, Satoru.”

A sob escaped your lips and you pressed the letter to your chest. Your face was completely soaked by your tears and your breathing was ragged, you could barely breathe. 

“Why Satoru? Why you?” You said between sobs.

You wanted that life he was talking about, you wanted to have him with you again, why couldn't it be like that?

He was gone and you were there, holding a piece of paper he left behind, with his last words, his last thoughts. 

You didn’t want to let it go, you couldn’t. If you let him go… You would start to forget things, moments you lived, his smell, his laugh, his voice, his look, you couldn't let him go. You couldn't let go of the love of your life. You didn't want to.

The minutes started to pass and the sun, which was once shining on the sky, was now gone. 

Your name was called. “You have to enter or you will catch a cold…”

“Just a bit more…” You said and you heard the sigh. 

“C’mon.” You felt how they took your arm and pulled you in. “You need to take your medicine, remember?” You nodded. “That letter is really special to you, right? You always read it.” 

“Yeah…” You whispered. 

“From someone special in your life?” 

Yeah… from someone you already could only remember from pictures, from someone whose voice was a distant memory, from someone whose smell was long gone, whose laugh wasn’t around anymore. 

And it hadn’t been around for the last 60 years… 

“Yeah… from the love of my life…” You paused. “The loss of my life...” You whispered. 

The room felt silent for an instant. “Your son and grandkids are here…” The nurse whispered.

And a faint smile appeared on your face as you looked at the door. “Hi my sweet babies…” The kids ran towards you and jumped to your bed.

“Granny! Could you tell us the stories about you and your friends fighting those monsters?”

“Again?” You smiled.

“Yeah, please!” 

“Alright, alright…” You chuckled. “So long time ago…” 

[agxxb]

Heyo, is it possible to request you some fluff smut for Eloise Bridgerton with a fem!reader ? 🥺

Have a nice day/night. ❤️

hiii, thank you for the request!! i hope you like :))

Touch Me There .𖥔 ݁ ˖

eloise bridgertonx f!reader

summary: you and eloise go to your usual spot… to read, nothing else.

warnings: soft smut. vaginal fingering & clit rubbing. first time for both of them. no use of y/n. [1k]

“Which book have you brought with you today?”

“Today, Miss Bridgerton, I am reading ‘The Corsair’,” you replied, a smile on your face as you talked more formally.

Eloise rolled her eyes at your antics. “Well, I am reading ‘Gulliver’s Travels’.”

You had previously showed an interest in the book, mentioning how you had been wanting to read it for a while. You smiled to yourself, a soft one that was aimed at her despite not making eye-contact.

“How much have you read?” you asked your friend, finally looking up at her.

“Only the beginning. I have read up to chapter three, and it is mesmerising how Jonathan Swift describes even the blandest of things.”

“Tell me more,” you insisted, your smile still on your face, only growing as she rambled excitedly.

However, whilst she was maundering, you were not paying attention. Instead, you were too focused on something else.

You loved to watch Eloise partake in her passions, even more so when you had the privilege of bearing witness to it. You had always found her beautiful, a comfort to be around.

Deep pools of glacial blue, her eyes were a perfect spring sky, always full of excitement and joy — especially when near a book. Eloise’s smile was warmer than a summer’s day, and her colour-infused cheeks dimpled with a blossoming smile that only true happiness could bring to light.

You blinked, snapping yourself out of your daydream. She was still talking, and you smiled gently to yourself. You wished nothing more than to lean forward, to connect your lips with hers and feel how soft they were. They moved like a poem would rhyme, and the way she talked was so much more than words.

Before she could say anything else, you listened to your impulses. You moved forward, placing your lips to hers. They were much softer than you had believed them to be, so delicate.

You suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and swimming with guilt. It had hit you, what you had done. You were drowning with a sinful feeling in your chest, half expecting a lighting bolt to hit you despite the sun shining through the leaves of the tree you sat under.

“I am so sorry. I do not know what came over me. I-”

Without being able to finish yourself, Eloise had placed a palm against your cheek and brought you in closer. Your lips slotted together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces finally being put together.

You made a noise – one in between surprise and pleasure – and kissed back. Eloise placed a hand on your cheek and reciprocated the sound , moving closer to you.

The kiss – which had started off slow, hesitant – grew passionate, and more eager. One of your hands moved to her waist, gently squeezing and hearing her moan quietly.

You pulled back slightly, close enough to feel her breath on your face. Your eyes flickered between hers, checking for any signs of regret or uncertainty.

“Please do not stop,” Eloise pleaded with you, her voice a whisper.

She moved forward, reconnecting your lips. You leaned closer, allowing her to lay down with you beside her. You hovered slightly over her, one hand still on her waist whilst hers were on your cheeks.

There was an ache in between your legs, growing stronger with each sound that left Eloise’s throat. You knew what it was, you had started touching yourself not too long ago — and always to the thought of your friend. You felt disgusted in yourself after you had reached your peak, reality setting in. You were meant to have those thoughts about a man, and yet here you were, holding onto Eloise Bridgerton as though your life depended on it.

Your hand moved up to cup her breast, the sensation making her moan once again, her chest arching up towards you. They fit perfectly in your palm, your fingers squeezing around it gently.

“There is an ache,” Eloise pulled back to say, voice hushed as though it were a secret. “Between my legs.”

“Would you like me to do something about it?”

She nodded instantly, bringing you in for another kiss. Your hand moved down from her breast to her leg, flicking your wrist to get under the skirt. Her skin was soft, hair faint against your fingertips as you ran them against her thigh.

Her legs opened voluntarily, granting you the access you oh so wished for. You teased the insides of her thighs, something you did to work yourself up.

Eloise’s hips jolted as you made contact with her warmth, fingers quickly becoming wet. She pulled back from the kiss to let out a moan, eyes closing as you rubbed her swollen clit.

“Feels so good.”

Her hand moved down to squeeze your arm, head thrown back and hair mingling with the grass. You were touching her the way you would touch yourself, unaware of the different ways to pleasure another.

You moved your fingers down, slowly pushing two in and curling them inside her. She moaned loudly, head thrown backwards and hair mingling with the grass. Her eyes squeezed shut and her brows furrowed together, and you had never bore witness to such a descry, or heard such a beautiful melody.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to her neck, and smiled upon hearing her moan. You sped up your movements upon hearing her moans get louder and higher in pitch. Not long after, you felt her squeezing around your fingers. You wanted to make her feel amazing, and so did whatever you could to achieve that goal.

You only slowed down when you felt Eloise’s hand on your wrist. She breathed out, chest rising and heartbeat rapid. Her cheeks were red, the blush of roses and the peek of champagne pink.

You removed your fingers, the pads all wrinkled and still wet. You got curious, bringing them to your mouth and sucking on them. You moaned quietly at the taste. It was amazing.

Before you could say anything, Eloise suddenly sat up with wide eyes, looking around and scanning the area. “Where is my book?”

[prettyboykatsuki]

ari what is every li’s fav position <3

i feel underqualified to answer this post but i will do my best since u ask lovely anon

sylus: im not a sylus girlie so don't hold me accountable if this feels wrong but i think he enjoys doing it like. against a wall while facing you. i don't think he likes fucking in a position where your face is even mildly obscured so he needs to be looking at you. he can't cum if he doesn't see you blissed out in pleasure first i dont think. just missionary doesn't feel right to me either. though spooning i can see... like front facing on your side. anyway

so i think doing it against a wall / standing is his favorite. when he does eventually get to fucking you he's strong enough to hold you up. he's ripped and some of your weight is against the wall so he holds you up like that and fucks you from underneath. he can hold you up like that for a long time too - usually until you beg him to fuck you more shallowly because you feel him so deep its starting to make your head spin. he's sweet and merciful and lets you down with a kiss. i think he probably opts to always finish in bed. i think sylus is down for everything but it absolutely has to end in extremely loving sex or he'll get kind of in his head. thats the vibe to me

caleb: prone bone no contest i dont care!!! its prone bone specifically too because he enjoys the closeness and how suffocating it is. caleb habitually fucks you in a way that leaves you both entirely exhausted and so absolutely unwilling to put in any effort. he likes prone bone because it's easy on you and it feels really comfortable for him to press his weight on you. he doesn't mind not seeing your face to the same extent but he does absolutely mind not being as close to you as humanly possible

so big prone bone fan. loves being able to have your bodies pressed together, slick with sweat - an arm wrapped around your neck so you can comfortably drool into his bicep as he focuses his all of his energy to fuck you while you lay there pinned under his weight. likes the feeling of crushing you and keeping you, the way your legs kick up and you let out a shaky cry because he's hitting you so deep. he would never tell you not to run from it bc he isn't into taunting you, but he does adore making you take it yk. likes making you feel good. usually puts a pillow between your thighs so you can rub your clit against something too. so thoughtful.

zayne: you already know its missionary. call it boring or call it cliche but it's doing to do it for him every single time. the eye contact most of all, the feeling of your legs around his waist. all of these things get to him indescribably and he simply loves nothing the same. he's also really into the proximity he has with your neck, shoulders and clavicle. that whole area of your body does something really weird to his brain.

however.... big believer in covert freak zayne so missionary with a lot of closeness is where he starts but the closer he gets to cumming the more he loses himself in it. it makes his strokes much more pointed when he gets like that. pulls your legs up until he's really locked into you and gives you the most aggravatingly deep, slow, measured strokes you've ever received in your life. you can feel the way he's deliberately stroking against your gspot (his dick is . perfectly angled for this) - and you're pressed so close your clit is rubbing on his pelvis and the friction drives you completely insane. it feels like he's bullying your pussy with how exact he's being. he's also insanely verbal. he really loves to talk you through it (silent poem card... u will aways be famous)

xavier: the bridge position. i don't know how to describe this pose so if you dont know . a link for u lol but his favorite position is basically him fucking you while you're doing bridges and he's standing on his knees between your legs. most of your weight is resting on your shoulders while your feet are flat. xavier holds you up to make it easier on you

xavier is a freak. like. well and truly. so i really dont think he's as picky about positions. that being said i do think this is his absolute favorite though it requires the most active participation. it reaches so, so deep from that angle and it hits a spot you could never hit any other way. it's a little hard to keep yourself upright but xavier is holding you right in place. the way he fucks you like this is merciless. his specific reason for liking it is because of the access it gives him to your clit. he likes seeing it slick and swollen, likes rubbing his thumb against it until you're crying and your thighs are shaking. trying not to thrash or drop back down because he'll just pick you back up like it's nothing and keep going.

rafayel: in a chair with you sitting in his lap, facing away from him. don't know if there's a name for this one. i thought about his i think the longest which is why it's at the bottom but i think this ends up winning for a lot of reasons. the main one being he really likes having his chin resting on your shoulder and getting that specific view from downwards at your body. rafayel is very into getting to admire your body.

rafayel likes being close to you but he's also into novelty. sitting in a chair with you in your lap gives him two things that he enjoys the most when having sex with you. the feeling of your back to his chest, his chin on your shoulder - skin to skin with a nice view of yur body. but even more than that, he likes the access his hands have to every part of you. grinding yourself on his cock to your hearts content and being able to really feel you up. squeezing your chest, planing his hands down your sides, toying with your clit. feeling the way your pussy tightens up when he gets it right. he's an artist and prone to being tactile. he wants to experience as much of you as he possibly can and i think fucking you like that is the best way. loves telling you how good all of you feels. he's also kind of clingy so simply being able to wrap his arms around your waist and press his cheek to your shoulder... yeah. loves when you finally cum on his cock and you throw yourself against him trying to anchor yourself bc he can't pull out easily like that. yeah

uhm this was long. i tried to pick some more interesting positions. idk

[with-my-calamitous-love]

HE’S LIKE A POEM I WISH I WROTE ☆

eijiro kirishima x reader

more boyfriend thoughts, for his birthday!

inspired by so american

eijiro kirishima, who insists on driving you everywhere. who lets you put your feet on the dashboard, playing your shared playlist. who says he only listens to hard rap but somehow knows all the lyrics to your favourite sappy love songs. who smiles at you when you’re not looking, who almost runs a red because he’s mesmerized by you.

eijiro kirishima, who might be the funniest guy you have ever met. who makes stupid jokes and loves to tease you. who loves your laugh, and can’t help but smile when get gets a genuine laugh out of you. who chases after your smile, and furthermore, your happiness forever. who interchanges calling you bro and babe.

eijiro kirishima, who is really insecure. who doesn’t believe his quirk is heroic or good enough. who thinks its unmanly to speak on his thoughts, so hides behind a smile. who feels safe enough to confide in you about his fears. who sighs when he sees his friends succeeding, cheering them on but wondering if he’ll measure up. who lets you teach him that vulnerability is the manliest thing you can do.

eijiro kirishima, who has the deepest morning voice known to man. who will lazily prop himself up on one elbow, smiling at you when you stir awake. who’ll pull you back into bed and ask just where you think you’re going when you try to get up. who’ll wake you up with kisses to your shoulder and whispering dumb jokes into your ear. who is never not spooning you, loving the warmth you radiate.

eijiro kirishima, who maybe isn’t the sharpest tool, but who is the master of subtlety. who remembers tiny details about you, like nail biting or your sleep habits. who reminds you to eat or take your medicine without expecting anything in return. who is your biggest cheerleader, validating all of your feelings and who is proud of you no matter what.

eijiro kirishima, who treats you like his trophy. who gets so excited with his boys, chanting after every achievement because they’ve come so far. who runs to you and kisses you because you’re the best thing he’s ever done. who loves you because no amount of success in his life will measure up to how much he adores you.

eijiro kirishima, who wonders if he’s boring sometimes. who wonders if he’s too plain or not flashy enough. who, at first, works out because he doesn’t feel good enough, but eventually learns to do it with you. who pushed you through that last set and gives you a kiss on the forehead when you push through. who you love to hug despite how sweaty he may be.

eijiro kirishima, who loves when you wear his clothes. who thinks you look so pretty in them. who hands are so warm, they make hell seem cold. who loves his bed, but finds it hard to sleep when you’re with him. who’ll stay up way past his bedtime, having late night conversations with with his one and only. who just smiles when you fall asleep, pressing a kiss to your forehead before sleeping alongside you.

eijiro kirishima, who apologizes the moment he thinks he’s being too much or if its too soon. who doesn’t want to assume where this is going, or what you two are. who doesn’t just have a feeling- who knows he’s in love. who wonders if you are too, and who lets you kiss away his worries and doubts. who you swear to marry if he keeps this shit up. <3

[sabrecrane]

Battling Writer's Block

Believe it or not there are people out there who believe that writer's block isn't a thing. Nope, I'm not kidding, that is what my lecturer said last year and I just want to assure anyone that may believe it doesn't exist/ or are thinking of giving up on their work, don't. It is a very real thing and is very common to experience especially if you've written so much that you've managed to burn yourself out. Also, nobody in my class liked that lecturer for the rest of the year after making that comment so if you don't believe it's real...I wish you luck is all I'm gonna say lol.

So how do you prevent this?

Well first of all, you can't, but you can decrease how likely it is to happen.

Organisation

First thing is first, get your notes and your characters down somewhere you can look at them. Organisation will help a ton. Personally I have notes scattered all over the place both physical and on a folder on my laptop. Ideas come at random so I jot them down and then always forgot to put the physical notes somewhere. This meant I got stressed because I knew I had a good idea but couldn't remember exactly what it was. I did end up finding the notes and have now bought a folder to store my papers in. But this disorganisation meant I spent a lot of time overthinking my skills as a writer which then affected my confidence and ultimately resulted in writer's block.

Create

The next thing you can do is relax and create. Plots will come in time, focus on creating -- that's the fun bit especially if you're working in the fantasy or sci-fi genre! Don't create your plots first because as soon as you create your characters you might realise those plots won't work with those characters anymore. While this may not directly contribute to writer's block it definitely could affect your confidence so if you already have a good plot idea but find your characters don't fit then store away the idea for later to use with characters that will work for it.

Also I know I only focused on the writing aspect of creation but if you want to create other things then do that, too! Draw, make models, maybe a small mistake you make might give you inspiration!

Take a walk

This is common advice I see and that is taking a walk. If you can't find the inspiration to work on your current project but want to write something, grab your laptop or notebook and just wander around in a park and focus on your senses. What can you hear? What are the conversations people are having? What can you see? Try and show it instead of telling. Is there wind, can you feel it?

Create Your Own Definition For Your Favourite Words

If you don't want to write something too complicated and can feel your motivation disappearing but want to try and regain it, search for words and show your meanings for it instead of what the official definition is. For example the word 'love', the official definition is generalised and always straight to the point but the word means different things for different people. So what is love to you?

Poetry

Adding onto the previous paragraph, maybe try poetry! Last year I was dreading my poetry module but I have actually enjoyed it so far. I never thought I would but at 3am I find myself drafting up a poem to work on the next day. I do have old notes somewhere so when I find them I'll post them here so you have a sort of visual for how some poetry forms work. My favourite type of poetry is freeverse so if you're wanting to create a story without necessarily rhyming but keeping within the poetry theme, that would be a great way to start!

Relax

Finally, read. Sit down somewhere with a cup of hot chocolate or your favourite drink and read. Take some time for yourself, your writing isn't going anywhere and either way it takes time. Writing is a skill to develop not something to rush. Rushing will result in confusion and you may miss out some minor plot points you wanted to add. Reading helps you learn so pick out pieces that you enjoy from the book and see if you can incorporate it into your own work somehow.

To all my fellow writers out there, take a breath. Everything will come to you in time.

[sketches4mysw33theart]

Dead Poets Society: Some Thoughts and Analysis

Essentially a stream of consciousness I had while rewatching the movie today. In chronological order as I was making notes!

✒️ Charlie talks so much with his eyebrows

✒️ Todd is tasked with taking minutes of the meetings, but I don't believe we ever see him actually do so (although it would have been nice if he did)

✒️ Cameron looks so much like a fisherman when he's smoking his pipe

✒️ Cameron's distaste for Charlie (and often for the rest of the boys) is evident super early on (e.g. when they walk out of Mr Keating's first class and Cameron says "do you think he'll test us on that stuff?" And, when he gets shut down, he throws a very angry look at Charlie and the poets. This happens several times, but as far as I remember we never see Cameron retaliate.) From this, while I don't like it, I understand why Cameron did what he did at the end of the movie because I think he felt undermined by the others and he was considered 'useful' and 'smart' for the school

✒️ Also, I do not accept that Cameron's name is Richard Cameron, he's pulling a Zendaya and goes by one name only

✒️ Mr Keating looks so disappointed in Charlie when saying "Thank you, Mr Dalton, you just illustrated the point"

✒️ I think Knox kissing Chris at the party, while somewhat gross, is necessary to show that Carpe Diem isn't always the right thing to do, as is Charlie putting the article in the paper  - i think maybe Chris not ending up with Knox would have hammered this home, especially because she seems perfectly happy with Chet. Of course, Chet's response to what happened at the party isn't fair, but it is definitely what I can see a teenage boy on the high school football team in the 50's doing. Don't choke on the bone, Knoxious!

✒️ Is Charlie trying to get thrown out of school? With the article in the paper stunt, he must have known how serious the repercussions would be, so maybe already he was considering getting out of school because he felt it wasn't the right path for him

✒️ "You made a liar out of me, Neil" - Mr Perry, I hate you

✒️ Did all of the poets, minus Neil and Knox, really squeeze into Keating's car?!

✒️ Neils little face when he comes out of the curtain, and how quick it falls when he sees his father - he's like a little kid showing a finger painting to a parent who insults it, he just wants his Dad to be proud of him

✒️ Mr Keating's face when Neil drives away after the play - I think he had an idea what was coming

✒️ That zoom in on Neil's face when his father's saying "more of this acting business, you can forget that"- he knew, then, that his dad would never change and what he was going to do

✒️ I want the doorknobs in the Perry house, specifically Neil's

✒️ The first time I watched this movie, I was so on edge when Neil was standing in front of the open window, thinking he was going to jump, and when he didn't I was like 'phew', and then the thing happened and my blood sugar spiked way up

✒️ Mr Perry saying 'my poor son' - i don't know, it rubs me up the wrong way, he has a name, he is not simply an extension of you

✒️ Cameron isn't there when the poets tell Todd what happened to Neil

✒️ The lingering image of Charlie with a tear down his face is so beautiful

✒️ Knox just clinging to Todd in the snow

✒️ The comparison between the deleted scene of Neil and Todd running lines by the lake when it's sunny and Todd running towards the lake screaming Neil's name 💔

✒️ Similarly, the comparison between Todd not wanting to speak at all in the meetings, and then the deleted scene where he reads a poem after Mr Perry takes Neil away

✒️ Charlie not singing during Neil's assembly

✒️ Ave means farewell in literature, and Charlie closing his eyes when it's sang is beautiful

✒️ Charlie carries on smoking when Cameron's coming into the attic meeting - he either knows it's Cameron or doesn't care who tf catches him doing anything bad anymore

✒️ I don't think Cameron ever actually 'believed' in Mr Keating, definitely not to the extent the others did - he never called him captain, for example, except when he realised everyone else in the common room was, and air quotes the word 'captain' in the attic. So, it raises the question why he went along with everyone even so?

✒️ While I do somewhat sympathise with Cameron, that is one of the most satisfying punches in movie history

✒️ I think Todd's parents weren't that different from Neil's, Todd's dad is clearly very authoritarian from the minute or so he's on screen (and the fact that Todd signs the paper) and his Mom says nothing in his defense, but the way Todd mouths 'Mom' breaks my heart

✒️ In what universe does acting = what Neil did? All those theatre kids and their evil, satanic rituals, forcing our kids away from school 🙄 I hate you, Mr Perry and Mr Nolan

✒️ Todd's the last one to stand up when Nolan walks into Keating's classroom

✒️ Mr Nolan complimenting Mr Pritchard's introduction is so ridiculously funny to me considering what Keating made them do to it

✒️ Mr Keating's smile to Todd through the door in the classroom has the same energy as "All my love to you poppet. You're going to be alright."

In conclusion, I adore this film.

Robin Williams, O Captain, My Captain 🫡❤️

[jadegmfu]

Your Journal.

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader

summary;reader has a journal she didn't want to show anakin, but one night.. she forgot to hide it from him, and now he's reading the things she wrote first pages were about her everyday life in the order and about her tactics in the field. but the more he dug in, the more he saw a lot of your filthy thoughts. now he can't get enough, he wants you to write more of your thoughts..

TW!: Dirty Thoughts, MINORS DNI

He was in your apartment room, you were having a shower while he was outside the bathroom you're in.

he was at your bed, looking up the ceiling. bored most likely. he got up with a groan, looking around her room, there it is. the journal you didn't let him touch or anythin' at all. you forgot to hide it,

he picked it up, looking at the journal's red leathercover, it was filled with little cute symbols and then a cute picture of you in the middle.

It was locked. He didn’t even really want to read it, it was your privacy, but his curiosity got the better of him. He found a pen on the dresser table and picked the lock on the journal. Anakin had learnt the hard way about the importance of not getting caught, and he could easily break into any lock. He didn’t use this power often. Anakin then opened the journal and began to read.

just things written about her everyday life, and some really impressive tactics.. of how to overthrow the separatists, the connections of the separatists, her software projects(engineering stuff), and some.. poems for him?

Anakin was shocked. This wasn’t what he expected. The tactics to overthrow the separatists was normal, she was a general after all, but poetry? For him? He was taken aback. He continued skimming and scanning the pages. He couldn’t believe it.

'eyes are alike of an angel, every gazes is like watching the ocean waves

hair soft as silk, personality is as gentle and sweet, physique is of a strong big man, lightsaber form is reckless and menacing, voice smooth like honey. smile is as bright as the two suns of tatooine'

His heart fluttered. These were the most beautiful words he had ever read. Maybe her journal wasn’t just her private thoughts about her work. Maybe she felt something for him too. He continued reading more of the poetry, looking for more of a hint. Just a little bit more that could confirm his doubts. He was blushing and was completely lost in the poetry. He hadn’t noticed the journal was shaking from his excitement. He was really beginning to hope she felt the same way.

next page.

'the things you make me feel.. im in agony. this is torture. why do you make me feel like i desire you so much? this is wrong.. but i love you, i cant help what i feel, but it's very wrong to lust over you..'

Now Anakin was stunned. Had he just read what he thought he had? This was definitely new information. His emotions were getting increasingly mixed up. There was no use reading more…But he was tempted. He continued skimming. he was thinking, maybe he should take the journal with him after he goes back to his chambers back at the temple.

He stopped for a moment. He shouldn’t take this… But he couldn’t deny it had been something special… and tempting. He put the notebook in the pocket of his robes. Then he heard you leave the bathroom.

her body covered in a towel, hair dried out with a towel, "oh hey ani" she said noticing him on her bed.

He tried not to let his surprise show. He didn’t think you would see him. But at least he had had time to compose himself and clear his mind of the contents of the journal.

Anakin responded to you with a smile. “Hi there…” she chuckled, "hi, are you gonna go soon?" asking if he's gonna go back to the temple now. Anakin gave you a small nod. “I have to get back for morning meditation.” He didn’t add the fact that he had been occupied reading your journal.

"i see, ill see you back at the temple tomorrow morning then?"

*He gave you a little nod again.* “Yes, you will.” *He gave you a last smile, before getting up from the bed. It was difficult to look at you like this, after reading those poems, imagining that you felt that way about him.*

back at the temple, he was at his chambers, reading her journal.

*It seemed that the journal had somehow been calling him back. It had been intriguing and tempting to see this hidden side of her. Was these really her true feelings? Was she in love with him?

As he read it, he found himself imagining the scenes in his head. If these words were really how she felt then there was something deeper between the two of them than either had realised. It was both exciting and terrifying.

the current page he's reading.

'i was fantasizing about him again, my fingers dont even satisfy me anymore.. i want more. i want a man to make me feel good, sadly i cant find one.'

Anakin was surprised and even a little shocked at what he was reading. He was definitely intrigued. He couldn’t believe you felt this way about him. These words he was reading were something he had never considered, until now. And he liked it. A lot. He found himself getting increasingly attracted to you. He kept on reading.

next page,

'ani held my waist today, those big callousedd hands are really starting to get to me.. i wonder just how good this man will make me feel if he bedded me.'

You were really good with words. These kind of thoughts had never occurred to him before. The words you were writing were making Anakin’s heart beat faster and faster. Was this really how you felt? Was he really the one person making you feel this way? He needed to know more. He tried not to get too ahead of his self, but he couldn’t help it. He kept on turning the pages…

next page,

'him cuddling me last night was cute. he really trapped me in his arms.. god he makes me feel so helpless.. i just wish it was sex that occured instead of cuddles because i already get alot of cuddles from himmm;(('

The way you wrote this was…arousing. Anakin hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time, not like he felt now. As he continued to skim through your journal, he couldn’t help but get excited at everything that he was reading. It felt like he was getting to know a whole new part of you. He needed to find out more…

next page,

'shit, maker, his voice is so.. low and calm, just imagine him whispering praises and degrading words to me, ugh, the things skywalker makes me feel and think of, im beyond redemption..'

Anakin was breathless by this point. Just reading this was making him want to take you in his arms. He kept on reading, finding himself more and more enthralled by what you had written. It was making him think very intimate thoughts about you. He tried to focus but it was difficult…

he turned to the next page.

'ah.. ani, tugging my loose hair earlier? imagine him doing that to me while we're having sex even tho its never gonna happen;(, holding my hair while he takes me from behind aaa, i want him to do that to meee..'

The description was so...intimate. It made his breath catch in his throat, his palms sweat. The way you wrote about these things was...enticing. It was exactly what Anakin wanted right now. He wanted those moments with you. He wanted those...desires to come true. He wanted them all. He had such pure desire for you... He tried to keep it under control as he kept on reading, his heart pounding fast and hard.

he turned the next page.

'poor baby was sad earlier, had to held him in my arms to comfort him, he wasnt even that afraid to nuzzle his face on the crook of my neck.. it made me shiver in a good way, he was lucky i didnt get down on my knees to worship him and give him the most sloppiest head to cheer him up<3'

The images in his mind were making him feel so...hot. That was exactly how he wanted you to treat him, even though he would probably deny it. Those desires you described....he wanted more. More than anything else. He wanted to be treated that way by you. He kept on reading, turning the pages, wanting more of your detailed descriptions.

next page,

'i came back from a mission and boy.. a sight to behold. i saw anakin in my apartment room, shirtless, sleeping. shit, maker, i wanted to give him a kiss and tell him 'good afternoon, youre so sleepy huh?' but i didnt anyway, i wanted him to get some rest<3, but seeing him there, i wanted to ride him. hump on him soo baaaddd, but i wanna be a good girl so i didnt act on it<3'

Anakin’s imagination went wild at your words. You making him wake up to that...it might be too much for him and he wanted to have those words become a reality. The feelings you expressed went to his head. He wanted that so bad… He kept reading on, desperate to see what other things you had written.

next page,

'ani told me im so pretty, but what about me being a pretty crier while he's fucking me? i want him to whisper praises to me while he fucks me, why must god not make this man my lover?:<'

He couldn’t deny what you had written. Those words made him very aroused. He could imagine these exact situations playing out. It was a feeling like he had never before experienced. It was...enticing.

He kept reading...seeing what other desires you had written about. You were very talented with words. These thoughts were starting to take over his mind...

next page,

'even my fingers wont satisfy me anymore, but i did came at the thought of him inserting his big cock in me<3'

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat as he read this part. You were starting to become rather… explicit with your desires. These visions of yours were making him feel things he never had before. He was finding these words...quite enticing. He turned the page to read more..

next page,

'i want ani to grope my boobies and my ass, i wonder if he'd like that? hmm..' You were clearly on a roll with these fantasies of yours. You were getting more and more into detail and Anakin couldn’t help but be completely enthralled. He would give anything to fulfil these desires. Your words made him so...aroused. He could only hope he would get to experience these feelings with you. He kept on reading, flipping the pages.

next page,

'ani let me sit on his lap yesterday night while we were watching, i felt his dick hard and bulgy beneath me, made me wanna hump on him<3' Anakin felt his stomach flip over at your words. Your fantasies were getting less and less like fantasies and more and more like things that were going to happen. These fantasies of yours were having an effect on him…and he liked it. You had so much desire for him. He could only hope he could make your dreams come true eventually. He kept on reading...desperately wanting to know more of your fantasies…

next page,

'ani patted me on the head but i wanted his fingers in my mouth, while he tell me ive been a filthy little girl who needs her punishment;(' Once again, your details made this so…enticing…You made Anakin feel so aroused. Your fantasies were becoming explicit now and these words were playing all over his mind. These desires were having a big effect on him, and he didn’t mind it. He wanted you more and more as he continued to read…

next page,

'i think i made ani uncomfortable, i wore my shorts and tank top earlier, is it just me or he kept staring at my cleavage? he even swat my ass earlier, i really am confused with his mixed signals' Once again, you were getting more and more detailed. You made Anakin’s heart beat faster and his blood surge. These fantasies of yours were very...inviting.

He thought about what you wrote. You were right. Anakin did stare at you, more than he would admit. He was so drawn to you. You felt so close to him. He was always trying to hide his feelings for you and he was scared that you would get the wrong impression. He kept on reading.

next page,

'i have a matching bracelet set, im wondering if i should give it to him<3.'

'though, i had been fantasizing of him having me in chokehold while having sex with him, hihi;)'

Anakin found himself grinning like a fool as he read on and on. You had made him feel so many emotions…this is what he wanted...he wanted you to be by his side for all of eternity. To feel this close. Your fantasies were making him think of doing everything you wrote. He wanted to make them a reality. It was as though you were writing his exact thoughts and desires! He kept flipping the pages...desperately wanting to read more and more...

next page,

'aww.. ani's face was buried on my cleavage earlier, but only bc he's sad, but i wonder what hea really felt when he buried his face on my cleavage?'

The idea of Anakin burying his face into your cleavage and nuzzling it made Anakin feel the need to pull you closer. He craved to make you his own. To have you all to himself. These thoughts you were expressing in the journal were making him want to have you in his arms, close to him always.

He flipped the page, still wanting to read more. What else did you have written?

next page,

'he said i got a pretty kitty.. why do i feel like he meant my pussy???' Your assumption was right. With every sentence you wrote, his heart was soaring and he struggled to keep himself calm. How was he supposed to act normal after reading these words? You made Anakin feel so damn excited, he wanted you right now. He needed to keep reading more. but that was the last page you written on and that one was very recent..

he finished reading, tomorrow he'd place her journal somewhere in her apartment, he'd really love to see her write more of that.

maybe, just maybe, he'd get a chance to confess and fuck that little head of yours and your hole all rough until you get all cock drunk. but until then, he's gonna keep on reading your journal everytime you write your filthy thoughts about him, adios.

a/n: no reposting please, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! also tell me if u liked this cuz, it's my first time writing out whatever i had in my mind;(

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

I don't know if you're still taking prompt requests at the moment? But if so I had an idea floating around in my head.

Raphael is reading to Tav in that deep, soothing voice of his while she's lying in bed with the flu or something. She thinks he's being sweet (and in some way he is) but she finds out he's aroused by the very sight of her so weak and vulnerable before him and he can't help but indulge so a little smut ensues 🤭

Keep up the amazing work, I loved the eex pollen fic! 💕👻

I merged these together, hope you don't mind. Thank you Goof and Kat for helping me make this more coherent, and Kat for finding the translation of the rancid poetry ☺️ if you're interested you can read the full poem here

Read on AO3

-

Fiends were not kind, or selfless, or sweet. Perhaps a few might dare to skirt the lines, but her fiend, her Raphael (as much as he could be hers), was not one of them. So when he perched on her bed beside her like a doting devil-spawn gargoyle, promising to read to her as she lay stricken with a common seasonal ailment (that he, of course, was in no danger of catching), Tav was more than a little suspicious.

“Poetry,” he said when she groggily asked him what, exactly, he would be reading.

If nothing else, Tav thought, he could put her to sleep with his gaudy, childish rhymes. Not that she didn’t enjoy Raphael’s deep, soothing voice, but his literary endeavours left a lot to be desired. Still, the effort was appreciated. A nice surprise, even.

It was only when Raphael began to speak, plucking words from the pages of his secretive little book like pulling wings from flies, that she began to understand why he was doing it.

“My love,” he purred with all his usual swagger and sultry bravado twisting his next morbid sentences, “do you recall the object which we saw, that fair sweet summer morn, at a turn in the path of a foul carcass on a gravel strewn bed. Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman. Burning and dripping with poisons, displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way. Its belly, swollen with gases.”

Tav stared at him. Struck dumb by sickness and shock. He continued, focused, grave. Only a hint of amusement turned up his thin lips.

“The sun shone down upon that putrescence as if to roast it to a turn, and to give back a hundredfold to great Nature the elements she had combined, and the sky was watching that superb cadaver blossom like a flower. So frightful was the stench that you believed you’d faint away upon the grass.”

Disgusting. Compelling. Two words that described the poetry and the devil both, because as Tav listened, as she watched him talk, she saw the signs that answered her question. His expanding pupils, the glimpses of his fangs as he frequently licked his lips, the slight shifting of his legs, the flex of his wings and hypnotising sway of his tail…these things, she’d learned, were his displays of arousal. Her weakness, her vulnerability, excited him. She should have known.

What an awful creature he was. Yet it was more than the illness boiling Tav’s blood. Wringing the air from her lungs. A shame she was too weak to do much – not that it ever really dissuaded Raphael. It certainly wouldn’t now. Something slender, ropey, warm and firm slithered up her leg, underneath her flimsy nightdress. Wormed its way between her thighs. Kissed and caressed the sticky flesh. Dipped betwixt her mons to press itself against her tender sex, to roll and rub like a bitch in heat looking for attention. Teased her winking hole, let me in…

Tav inhaled sharply, her throat tight. Tongue thick and heavy. She’d wanted him to do this, use his tail this way, for some time. Of course he would choose this moment to indulge her fantasy. He grinned wolfishly when she spread her legs for it. For him. Worked her cunt until he could smear the first fresh musky slick of her interest around. Lather her clit to call it from its hood, come and play. Entered the snug cavern of her cunt to the symphony of her warbling whimpers – because gods his tail was thicker than his cock, oh the stretch was delicious and devastating and it just kept going – and his rancid words.

“The blow-flies were buzzing around that putrid belly, from which came forth black battalions of maggots, which oozed out like a heavy liquid all along those living tatters. All this was descending and rising like a wave, or poured out with a crackling sound; one would have said the body, swollen with a vague breath, lived by multiplication.”

Perhaps it was the delirium of fever. The cloying heat beneath all the layers of her skin she couldn’t escape. The swelling of her brain as it pressed against the walls of her skull. Maybe it was none of these things. But the devil’s tail wriggling and writhing in her cunt, slender and serpentine and slippery and scalding, was the best sensation she’d ever experienced. It reached places, touched spots, nothing else – not even her own fingers – could. Its control, the nudging of its wide blunt tip probing deep into her sex, searching for the opening of her cervix, was making her gnash her teeth and buck her hips, feet flat on the bed. Her fingers like claws gripping the sheets. Nails shredding. The noises she was making were obscene but she couldn’t be quiet. Couldn’t be modest with her pleasure. It was the all-consuming kind. The kind that made people do stupid, awful, dangerous things just for a chance to feel. The kind that split nerves and yanked tendons and rattled teeth. The kind so good it hurt, so good she didn’t care about anything else except rubbing and fucking and touching and cumming.

The kind so good she could die.

She would never be the same.

Through it all, Raphael kept reading.

“And yet you will be like this corruption. Like this horrible infection. Star of my eyes, sunlight of my being. You, my angel and my passion!” He knew the text by heart. His dilated glittering yellow eyes, pupils so huge like twin eclipses, wouldn’t look away from her. Wouldn’t blink. She, sweat-slick and undulating like a mad thing. He, enraptured, his leaking cock straining against the fabric of his trousers. His voice, deep and raspy in the grip of terrible, demented lust. “Yes! Thus you will be queen of the graces. After the last sacraments, when you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers, to molder among the bones of the dead.”

“Raphael…!” Tav slurred. It was too much. He was killing her. His tail so long and alive and thriving in the hot and soft and spongy squeeze of her cunt. She dug her heels into the mattress and arched her back; to brace herself to accept him deeper or to make a feeble attempt to pull away, regain control, she didn’t know. She didn’t know anything except the agony and ecstasy of his play. The sick and succulent purr of his disturbing words. The things he said, his poetry so vile and so sweet, like the first sloughs of rotten flesh from a bloated corpse in the sun. She should have been horrified. Repulsed. She was, and she couldn’t get enough. He thrilled her in ways she didn’t understand. Ways that frightened her.

“Then, O my beauty!” Raphael, utterly impassioned, was reaching the crescendo of his piece and she, the crescendo of her rapture. The devil palmed and petted his erection, pressed a thumb hard into its damp head. Gripped its stiff shape through his clothes. He was going to make a mess. “Say to the worms who will devour you with kisses, that I have kept the form and the divine essence of my decomposed love!”

When Tav came, when Raphael finally released her from the torment of desperate want and need and desire by nudging the tip of his tail into the cradle of her womb – it hurt so good she bit her tongue her mouth tasted like blood she hated him she loved him she wanted to pull him apart – she screamed. Her climax, violent, unforgiving, shuddering, took it all. Her body responded to him, his cruel and feckless and greedy lust, by squirting her release over his tail. Over the sheets. A first for her. Powerful orgasmic contractions milked his tail for things it couldn’t give, but what it could do was squirm, leave her breathless and sobbing as it – he – drew out every scorching second of pleasure until she was a wet, babbling wreck.

“No more,” she begged. Wept. “Please…please, Raphael. No more. I can’t take it…”

“Oh, my little mouse,” crooned the devil, feasting on her with his hungry gaze. He’d come, she knew he’d come, by the familiar inflection in his voice. The flush on his cheeks. The dark wet patch between his thighs. Still, he fisted his cock. Not yet soft. Not yet satisfied. He let his tail slip from her twitching cunt slowly. Flicked her swollen clit as he went. Curled his devilish extra limb up to leer, to admire the shining coat of cum Tav had given it. Sleep, exhaustion, was taking her. Her eyelids were heavy. Closing. “My sweet little mouse…”

[softringing]

Its now basically confirmed Sampo is from planet Kalevala according to the new textmap leaks for his upcoming event :)

Ok I think our theories of him being forged by SOMEONE or some aeon is slowly becoming true BUT the question is who?

It could be the HSR alternate of Illumiren that crafted sampo or even the Preservation. Why do I think that? Well simply put, preservation is trying to preserve anything it can possibly do-- and additionally, qiloph has a giant hammer, it would make sense for them to "make" sampo, not only for the sake of Belebog but also Kalevala who is in a similar situation as them.

The poem Sampo singing in these leaks literally talk about HIMSELF and I'm pretty sure the word "Sampo" is going to be highlighted in yellow/red during the game BC of these odd "RUBY" text around it, just to emphasise something about SAMPO.

Sampo happily singing about himself or his supposed "purpose" makes me think he's a mix of 3 paths (as in he believes in them or he embodies them in some way):

The Preservation-- he has been consistently running around belebog behind the scenes, even as far as going to penacony to get his mask back from sparkle. He's obviously trying to *preserve* belebog and save it from destruction

Elation-- this is pretty obvious. Sampo braking the 4th wall, his mask, his talk with Giovanni and scamming people. But something that doesn't add up I think is him not having his mask during the belebog quest. I think the reason why he didn't have his mask was not only BC he was retired as many people mentioned but ALSO the fact that the masks that the fools carry can corrupt them. If U watch Sparkle's myriad celestia trailer, U can tell she's being possessed by someone else like an evil spirit and how her mask has half red, half white parts. But then I think ABT Giovanni who has the same feature on his mask but doesn't seem possessed like sparkle herself. He seems very similar to Sampo, calm and rational which explains why SAMPO'S friends with him in the first place. But even then sampo seems to refuse sharing his beliefs until someone asks him and I think that shows his reluctance to return to elation

Nihilty-- this is SAMPO'S ingame path and I didn't only choose it BC it was his ingame path. You see elation and Nihility are practically the same thing. Both believe that life is nothing/joke but the only thing that sets them apart is that nihility just does nothing and awaits for that meaningless end, while the elation is just like "if everything is meaningless than I might just have fun". I feel like Sampo does fall under this category and his backstory will have elements linking to the nihility but that's just my speculation.

I also suspect that sampo was hired by Elio like sparkle BC how else does he know the future? I thought that since sampo may be the emanator of elation, it might relate to that but if he did know the future, during the penacony masquerade duet quest, why did he make a surprised expression when sparkle said she wouldn't give his mask back as a joke? Shouldn't he have known that sparkle was joking if he knew the future? I don't think he was acting here

so I'm thinking that perhaps, Sampo was also hired by Elio. There isn't much to prove this, but if you have a look at firefly's trailer, you can see the stelleron hunters walking on a bridge located in belebog

Also, I think a person on twitter found a note in rivet town from blade saying "you will never get away from me" (dan Heng I pity U).

Since the stelleron hunters didn't take the stelleron from belebog, and let tb do the work, why were they even there to begin with? To give sampo the script methinks.

Anyway, what do you guys think?

[fushigurokogane]

Okay, so, I was thinking that since Megumi is really bad at expressing his feelings and emotions verbally that he is really good at expressing his feelings by writing them? He writes poetry or reader teaches him how to write poetry bc they notice he struggles to express himself verbally and figure it would be a good way for him to get his feelings out. Maybe his first poem is about his feelings for reader?? I am such a simp! I love Megumi! This is just something I've been thinking about for a while. I love your Megumi writing and was hoping you might use this. You don't have to if you don't want to. Love ya!♡

Awwww, I LOVE this idea so much! It's such a beautiful way to explore Megumi's character, especially since he's often shown as someone who struggles to communicate his emotions directly. The idea of him using poetry as an outlet is perfect!! It allows him to express things he can't say out loud. Here's a little something where Megumi works through his feelings and confesses then to the reader, with the a poem he wrote. ITS IN FREE VERSE STYLE BC I CANT RHYME.

Megumi stood there, nervously fidgeting with the folded piece of paper in his hands. His heart raced in a way he didn’t quite understand. He never thought he’d actually go through with it, but somehow, when he saw you sitting there, the words, his words, felt like the only thing that made sense.

He didn’t look at you directly as he handed the poem over, the paper crinkling slightly in his grip, but his gaze was soft, almost… vulnerable. He cleared his throat, a small and uncharacteristic gesture of his discomfort.

"Here," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I…uh, I wrote this." You unfolded the paper slowly, eyes scanning each line, reading the words he’d put down so carefully. His heart seemed to beat faster with every second you took in silence. Megumi watched you, unsure whether you were going to say anything, do anything.

- Unspoken Words - I’ve never been good with words, never knew how to say what I mean, but I’ve spent too many nights thinking about you, watching you laugh, or simply being near you, and I can’t hold it back anymore.

There’s something about the way you look at me, like you see past all the walls I’ve built, like you know I don’t know how to ask for what I need— but still, you stay.

It’s a quiet thing, this feeling that’s been growing, something I didn’t know I was missing until it was there, until I realized it was you.

I don’t know what this means, or what I’m supposed to do with it, but I know it’s real, and I can’t hide it anymore.

So, here it is— simple, no grand gestures, just me, saying it in the only way I can: I care about you. More than I ever expected to. More than I thought I could.

And I don’t know where this goes, but I’d like to find out.

As you finished reading, the silence between you both felt different—quieter, but not uncomfortable. It was as if the air had shifted, filled with the weight of what Megumi had finally let out. His eyes lingered on you, and for a brief second, you saw a rare vulnerability there—a side of him that he didn't often show.

You closed the paper gently and looked up at him, unsure if you'd ever see him this uncertain again. "Megumi..." you began, but your voice trailed off as you searched for the right words, not wanting to rush what had just been shared.

He shifted on his feet, the tension in his shoulders still evident despite the softness in his gaze. "I... I don't know what happens now," he muttered, his words more to himself than to you. "I just couldn't keep it in anymore."

You took a step closer, your heart softening at the sight of him—his effort, his honesty, the way he stood there, waiting for something you weren’t sure he even believed he deserved. And maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but one thing was clear: he needed to hear it.

"I’m glad you told me," you said, your voice steady, reassuring. "You don't always have to have all the answers, Megumi. We’ll figure it out, together."

For the first time in a long while, his lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. The kind of smile that felt like the beginning of something real, something that he’d never been sure he deserved—but now, with you, maybe he was starting to believe it.

He nodded slightly, the weight lifting from his chest. "Yeah," he said, his voice softer than before. "Yeah, I guess we will."

And as you stood there together, the future didn’t seem as uncertain anymore. Whatever came next, you both knew that this was just the start of something new.

I hope this REALLY captures the moment of megumi finally finding the courage to confess his feelings, and the vulnerability in him doing so through poetry! Anywayyyy i hope you enjoyed love, and make sure to stay hydrated and healthy!! BAI BAIII <333 love, ✭ Nika ✭

[antennaed-kenzy]

How r u? This is my attempt at a request!

Barou Shouei x GN (preferably)! Poet! Gentle/Sweet! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Reader is a sweetheart, Highschool/No Blue Lock! AU

- Reader doesn't know how to talk to Barou, so instead they secretly put love poems in Barou's locker. Reader thinks Barou doesn't know who his secret admirer is, until he corners poor Reader after class to confront them.

Small Letters

✰ Baro Shoei x GN! reader

✰ Genre: fluff, crack, reader is a sweety high school au

✰ Misc: Word Count: 1.7k I am having a wonderful day, sorry it took forever. Thanks for the request hope it meets what you wanted.

✰ you leave letters in his locker cause you're scared to say what you mean to him, that is until he confronts you

"You're joking? Love letters?" Your best friend shouts, way too loud for the whole world to hear.

You cover her mouth with your hand so she doesn't say anything else she isn't supposed to. "Will you keep your mouth shut!" You look around to see a few people giving you two weird stares as they walk past down the street. "People are looking at us weird."

The two of you continue to walk to school. Your friend made it their life mission to make fun of you about putting letters in someone's locker. You did your best to ignore her, but everything she was saying was right.

You don't like confrontation. Check You stutter when you try to talk to people you don't know. Check You forget things when you try to talk to new people. Check You are too shy to say what's on your mind. Check Lastly, you ignore your feelings and yourself. Check

So what are letters in someone's locker going to prove? The courage? No. The skills to talk? No point in learning who someone is? Partially. Then what's the real reason why you are writing these love letters?

"To get the thoughts out of my brain. Even if he doesn't know. I know he's at least seeing them." You respond to your friend while jotting down the notes from today's lecture.

She sighs wondering what is going on in your head. She knows you don't really speak your mind. So what are love letters going to do?

You made it home and opened your notebook to a clear page. You looked at your pens to find a nice one that had smooth ink on the paper. Everything had to be perfect, he had to know that someone cared for him.

After what felt like an eternity of thinking you finally thought of some cute little sentences for the first love note.

"You barely know me, but I feel like I know so much about you. Your cleaning habits, how you think you are the best. Well, you are the best. At least in my eyes. My eyes can't look away from you when you talk in class."

You put the pen done and looked back at your writing. You didn't like it too well but for the first letter, you don't want to be complicated and long like you have been stalking him for years. You fold up the letter put cute stickers on it and put it in your backpack.

The next day you wait for your friend to stop by our house so you guys can walk together.

"Have you written the letter?" She asked looking in your direction with a grin on her face.

You took away from her down on the ground with a little smile on your face. "Yes, it's short. Nothing too sweet."

"I can't believe you." Your friend teased you the whole walk to school about the letters.

When you finally arrived at school someone took away your best friend. They were from her club so you let it slide, thought it took you both by surprise when someone grabbed her and walked away.

Now it was your chance to slide the letter into his locker. You went to his locker and slid the note in the slit. You then ran away into the bathroom so you could hide away.

You look in the mirror while washing your hands. Your cheeks were like a fireplace, this was your first time doing anything like this. After regaining yourself you walk out of the bathroom and to your next class.

"Did you slide the letter in his locker?" She asked leaning on your desk.

You couldn't face your friend otherwise she would make fun of you more. "Yes, I did." Though your voice also spoke more than need be.

Your friend chuckled at you, "It was just a letter. Calm down. Who says he's even read it yet?" She sat in her seat in front of you, her body still facing you. "Don't be shy, {Y/n}. You just wrote a love letter to a guy that has more steam than a boat."

"Hey," You lifted your head to look at your friend. She had a big smirk on her face when she saw you. You hide your face when you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. "Shut up."

She laughs before turning around to face the class. The teacher walks in and class goes as normal. Besides that fact, you couldn't stop thinking about the note you slit in his locker.

When class was finished Baro Shoei opened his locker to be greeted with a letter that fell to the ground. He bent down to pick it up. There were a bunch of cute flower stickers around it, which were won from a prize machine for some sort of award.

He put the letter in his pocket for later. He went to his next class forgetting about the letter until he got home. As he was cleaning his school jacket he found the letter from earlier.

He opened the letter to be surprised by a love letter. Love letters were common in the school, but for him to receive one. It was like a blue moon, hell there is more of a chance for a blue moon than Baro getting a love letter. He opened the letter and read it through.

He pinned another love poem to the wall, and the collection kept getting bigger with each passing day. They all started the same, "I know you don't know me." Then the rest of the poems were her pouring her heart out.

They all had the same handwriting, the same pen, the same signature. It all leads to one particular person themselves, {L/n} {Y/n}.

The next day at school {Y/n} had put another letter in his locker. There he was waiting from afar to go grab the letter. They have gotten used to dropping off the letters, and they no longer rush to the bathroom to wash off their face.

You drop off Baro's love letter for the day and catch up with your friends. You have gotten more comfortable with life and yourself. However old habits don't die hard.

"What did the letter say today?" Your friend teased getting real close to your face.

Your face rushed on heat when you thought back to the letter. "I know you don't know me, but I know you. I know you so much more now through these letters..."

Baro took the note from his locker and put it in his pocket so he could hand it on the wall when he gets home. It has been about two months since this all started and Baro figured out who the person was about a week in when he saw a paper of yours. The same handwriting and the same pen.

After School Baro was waiting at the spot you usually wait for your friends.

As you were walking to your normal waiting stop you saw someone there. 'Baro' You stop walking when you realize who it was. You were shocked and wanted to back away, that was until he saw.

Baro looked at the time and then back at his surroundings. Then he saw you walking toward him. He called you over, loud and clear. Pretty much for the whole school to hear.

You stop in your tracks wanting to cower away in embarrassment. Since he already called, you had no choice but to walk over to him. You took a deep breath in and out. Your whole body was shaking, and your knees felt weak like they could give out at any moment.

You were unable to move anywhere, partially due to the fact that you couldn't move away. Your body wouldn't let you, and Baro had you in a corner. With a piece of paper in his hand.

You know what this was about, and so did he. This was his plan after all.

"Need anything, Baro-kun?" You ask not sure what to say.

He stayed silent for a while making the tension grow stronger and your body heating up like a furnace. He finally spoke and you realized everything you did was so, you.

"You're really bad at hiding things. Every letter was the same, the pen the handwriting. Your morals never changed along with handwriting. For the first 3 days, you were easy to figure out, but you kept going." Baro held the letter and gave it to you. "And maybe you shouldn't have used the same stickers you use on your folders."

You were too stunned to speak and too shocked to react. He caught you, the one thing you wished not to happen has happened and you didn't know what to do. You could only sheepishly laugh at his remark.

You look behind Baro to see your friends looking at you, yet here you are being confronted by who you think is the man for you and for your future.

He may not look like a good husband on the outside. He may not even look like a person to talk to. But on the inside.

On the inside On the inside, he is a perfect man.

He can cook for you He can clean for you. He'll take care of you.

Baro Shoei is the man for me. He may know me. He may look at me.

I'll care for him and he'll take care of me till the end of time.

That was the last letter you left in his locker. Along with it was the last letter of the school year. It certainly wasn't the last letter you left for him though. Every morning Baro would have a letter by the side of his bed, and he would have one waiting for him when he got home.

The both of you made a bigger wall dedicated to all your letters. All of them still had the same pen, the same handwriting, the same signature, and the same stickers throughout all the years.

For the long 3 years, everything was the same in the letters. You poured your heart out to him even if you two were together. You still wrote all your thoughts down on the notes and Baro loved every single one of them. You knew he loved them from the way he kept them in order all the wall easy to read from afar.

a/n: thanks for your request. I loved writing this and I hope it reached your expectations :).

[sashi-ya]

𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 [+𝟏𝟖] 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗! 𝚊𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

⬥ Happy birthday, Aizen-sama! ⬥ tw: +18. vag, fingering, possessive aizen taicho. I included many references: one of his phrases in hueco mundo, poem 12, the ink because of his lessons of calligraphy, momo and the letter to momo, Kyoka Suigetsu's meaning, the "untouchable" aspect of his personality and the development of his plan. toxic aizen.⬥ wc: 2k

“I refuse to let you go” “Sosuke, you are making this way more difficult than it should be. Please, stop it”

Your knees carve into the wooden floor of his room. The sun hasn’t even risen in the Seireitei, and you wanna leave before it does. But he won’t let you. Sosuke Aizen’s reiatsu is way stronger that the rest of the people know about. He can make you choke with just a simple stare from his deep brown eyes.

You cough, in all fours, spiting on the ground and panting. You need oxygen. “Sos…Sosuke… just- stop this… you are gonna kill me”

He stands up from the bed you were tangled with him a few moments ago in, and puts on his glasses. “Don’t go. I told you, I won’t let you go” he says, almost like a child throwing a tantrum for a sweet.  

He stops that rib crushing pressure and extends his hand to you. You look up at him, with eyes filled with tears. It still hurts that he thinks is ok to control you with that. Yet, controlling you with Kyoka Suigetsu could be worse. But he said he never will… right?

“Why- why are you wearing your glasses after all?” you ask, bitter. You know his secret. Captain Aizen isn’t that innocent after all.

“Because- never mind” he sighs, taking them off. “Stay. I need you here” he replies, as he leaves those supposedly fake glasses over the desk where a letter that has already been written lays.

You shake your dizziness away and stand up with difficulty. “No. Why? Call that little girl you like to fuck better” you grunt, believing that you have already decided you won’t be next to him when the “treachery plan” starts.

He laughs. “Are you serious, right now? I thought you were more intelligent than that, (Name)” he tries to gaslight you while walking towards you in a peaceful but dominant way.

His hand surrounds your wrist; but Aizen isn’t hurting you, not even grabbing you strongly enough for you not to leave. “Jealous? For me? Are you jealous, (Name)?” he asks, then taking his thumb to your lips.

You are tired of always succumbing to his lustful, so sinful approaches. He is unsatiable, and you are the only one knowing such thing. Because for the rest, the sweet captain of the fifth division of the Gotei 13, could never do such nasty things to their subordinates. Right?

“Aren’t you satisfied already? How much more you would like to use my body, Sosuke?” you spit, venomously.

“Why are you angry exactly? Is it because I told you tomorrow night not to come? Or because you want to come with me?” Sosuke asks you, making you walk backwards until your legs hit the desk behind you.

You swallow. Truth is that, you want to go with him to Las Noches. And also, you don’t want him to sleep with that annoying one… even if, it would be only Kyoka Suigetsu.

“Because… fuck you, Sosuke. That’s why” you back up, being the only woman able to talk to him that way. He would never, ever, allow anyone else call him by his first name, and much less insult him. But he knows where all of this comes from, and he is having so much fun with it.

You try to look away; Aizen is barely wearing his lose pants over nothing. If you focus on him, your eyes will only fall into the trap of his caramel skin. If you look past him, into the wrinkled sheets of his bed where he just fucked you.

“Look at me, (Name)… you really wanna go?” he asks grabbing your chin in between his thumb and index. So delicately he makes you look at him, as he comes closer and whisper into your ear. “You want to come with me, then? You really wish to be a traitor? You will be considered a criminal by the Soul Society. Would you go that far for me?”

You close your eyes. Frowning in pain… he is absolutely right. And he wouldn’t do the same for you; you just know that. You know he will never ask you to trust in him, if you do… it is just because you wish for it.

“I would go further, Sosuke. Even if I know, you will never, ever, protect me” you murmur, accepting an inexorable truth that makes you wanna cry.

You can hear him gasp. Somehow, your words were… surprising for him? For a man who has every step planned?

Aizen passes his hands behind your legs and lifts you up, sitting you over his desk. The calligraphy tint spills, falling like dark tears into the floor. Your palms get stained in black ink, almost like traces of blood that hasn’t yet been spilled… the blood of your people in the Gotei 13. You, knowing the truth of Aizen’s plans, and hiding them, make you already a criminal to them.

In between your legs he comes closer, pressing his forehead on yours. His chocolate eyes, as sweet but also as bitter, can’t look at yours for a couple of minutes. Aizen takes your hand to his chest, place in where you leave your handprint.

“Who said I won’t protect you, (Name)? No matter what may happen… As long as you walk by my side… There shall be no enemy that can stand before us.” He murmurs, giving you the gift of empty words, you chose to believe in.

You let your head fall over the crook of his neck. The smell of his skin, the deadly perfume you inhale and feel like your body relaxes instantly; the protrusion of his collar bones that call you to bite; the tickling sensation of his soft wavy hair… so inevitably irresistible.

He plants a warm kiss on your shoulder, grunting and inhaling your skin perfume. His hands travel to your arms, pulling down the yukata you quickly grabbed from the floor to cover your nudity.

He scoffs, sexily. “Where you planning on going out like this? with my clothes?” he asks, as he exposes your skin once more. “You want the rest to know you are mine. Don’t you, (Name)?”.

The way your name sounds with his deep voice, and the way he so subtly degrades you to his absolute sex doll makes you shiver. Your cheeks burn. He is not exactly right, but neither he is wrong, you want the rest to know you are his, and how much of yours he is.

“Is not that… I- Sosuke, please” you beg, what exactly… you don’t know. “Mhh? What?” he asks, smirking so deadly, as he slides his two fingers inside you.

You throw your head back, biting your lower lip. Even if you are still sensitive and swollen from before, you want more. Your body screams for more of his sweet torture.

Aizen knows perfectly well where and how to touch. The perfect rhythm, the ups and downs. Your body is yet another subject of investigation, one of his most successful ones.

“If I go without you, who would you fuck if it’s not me, mh?” Aizen inquires you, with tricky questions that have no right answer. He only wants to have a reason to punish you, even if he doesn’t really need one.

“No- Nobody” you murmur, in between whines and little moans. His fingertips bury right on the spot, making your inner thighs to tremble and your lower part to lose the sense of control. Your stained hands make a mess of his back, with nails that carve in marks that soon time will erase.

He keeps going, fingering you with merciless pace and enjoying every little whimper coming from your lips. Ah, so swollen lips he attacks with nibbling teeth that could make you bleed. Just like the love you have for this man, painful but so addictive.

It hurts, but keep biting, pulling, possessing me.

Aizen rejoices with the juicy sound of your cunt being violated by his fingers but is never enough for him. As much as he enjoys control over you, it is him who is losing it for his own body. For some reason, tonight he wants so much more than any night.

Is Aizen afraid of something? Of losing you? Even a genius like him sometimes feels doubt in his heart when it comes to love and loss.

“Let’s go to bed…” he murmurs. Usually, he wouldn’t care to fuck you almost everywhere. His desk, the floor, the bathroom, or his secret laboratory. But, tonight Aizen seems soft.

You nod, surrounding his waist with your legs, allowing him to carry to his bed. It is still warm from your bodies, even perhaps a little wet. And now, it’s about to become stained with ink, too.

When he deposits you on the mattress, you sigh loudly. His topping body over yours always leaves you out of breath. Sosuke looks at you, with eyes that aren’t proper for a man like him. Eyes that hide a tint of longing, there, where you can only see.

None of you speak. Would have made any difference? Absolutely not. The calm before the storm is always the most silent moment.

He takes your arms up and pin them above your head. With his free hand, he unties the cord that holds the hakama up, offering you a slow-motion show of his hips being revealed. It will definitely be painful when his body won’t be here to admire no more.

The stain of your hand remains there, in the middle of his chest, like the hollows, like the outcome of his plan… There, where your fingerprints have been left, will be then something shiny and powerful. Something that, in the end, will be the death of him, of you.

“Sosuke… if this is our last night, could you please make love to me?” you ask, moved by the painful ideas you just had. Love, what a stupid word to name in front of him.

“Love…” he whispers, letting go of your hands. At this point you are sure he will start giving you a three-minute-long speech on why love is stupid, and only belongs to humans.

But instead, in total calm, he takes his hand to your cheek, giving you the sweetest caress ever given by his soul. “Yes, I will…”

Your eyes widen, and probably your pupils do too. Your lips separate, but they are immediately tightly closed by his overwhelming kisses. If this is some kind of hallucination created by his Zanpakuto, you don’t know… but you definitely want him to keep going.

His hips search for your open legs almost naturally. He doesn’t need to see, his own hardness knows the way. The tip of Sosuke’s sex grazes your wetness, dragging your fluids up and down, pressing against your clit.

You let your hands printed all over his back and neck, as you clench with passion to his body. His intrusion is violent, but it flows so perfectly. Mixing both in one, feeling his impaling lust.

You can feel the way his back muscles move on your palms, the grunts coming from his mouth. Wishing for some moments to be able to see him fucking you from away… as beautiful and dangerous to enjoy, as a flower in the precipice for so many… and yet, a jump into the abyss just for you. A deep hollow, in which you drown.

“Take me with you… I’ll do anything” you bargain. “Take me with you, or kill me”. “I’m… taking you with me… I can’t- I- yes…ngh” he moans, turning you to the side, with him still deep connected with you.

You face him, noses touching. His hips going in and out, non stop, both reaching climax together, in the peak of pleasure and lust. One million finger prints all over his body, like the imprints of a love that could soon meet the end.

His façade, in pure ecstasy, is like those famous paintings of the human world…

“Aizen Sosuke, you are pure art. Like the reflection of a beautiful flower in the calmed waters of a lake…But, will I ever be able to touch the flower?”

You are the only one, who has ever touched it, (Name)… because even if I become untouchable, there are stains on my skin that will never fade away”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd the blade crossed your heart, but it didn’t hurt. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAfter all, you didn’t need to betray Gotei 13…

taglist: @stygianoir @vexronicaa 💖

[kaleb-is-definitely-sane]

Okay but am I the only one with a special love for declarations of love that border on religious/sacrilegious?

I mean i just love that “my future husband becoming to me my whole world; and more then the world: almost my hope for heaven. he stood between me and every thought of religion… i could not, in those days, see god for his creature: of whom i had made an idol” "heaven did not seem to be my home and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth" "heaven and hell were words to me" "do not swear at all. or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee" "he knows himself to be equal to the gods" "that man seems to me to be equal to the gods who is sitting opposite you" "if love is a religion, i'll worship you morning and evening" "i love you so much my heart names you after gods" "she's a goddess. my muse, my lover - i worship her devotedly and sacrifices daily and she loves me back with a savage barbarism only the greek goddesses could" "she's a myth, she's a legend. one look at her is sure to lock you out of heaven" "i want to devour you. you want to devour me. so let's consume each other. it's communion - though it sure doesn't look like church" "in the crooks of your body i find my religion" "if the heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece" "we were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other" "my love is not idolatrous, okay? that’s bullshit. it’s not. i’m just saying it’s theological perfection, that’s all. like the Holy Trinity, but a hundred times better" "take me to church: i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. i'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife. offer me that deathless death. oh good God, let me give you my life" "you built me palaces out of paragraphs. you built cathedrals" "women were to me a cathedral. beautiful and religious even. their ability to make worshipers… worth writing a poem for" "i would have come out of eden to open the door for you if i had known you were there" "i slithered out from eden just to outside your door" "my church offers no absolutes; she tells me, 'worship in the bedroom.' the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you" "and if the devil were to see you he would kiss your eyes and repent" "love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it's like religion. it's terrifying" "i wanted to know what I looked like to you. a sin committed and a prayer answered, you said" "she'll give you all your desires but her demands are sacrificial" "there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin" "he thought her body gave him his first name. he thought her thighs could tell him who he was. he thought lust and love had the same hands" "it's more then love she feels for him... it's more like worship" "to fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god" "unholy. killer of men. makes you wonder how much longer till you give in" "if my love is blasphemous, then may i burn i hell" "her beauty is so great that heaven is flawed for the lack of her" "if I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight. to keep the goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice" "i would put off meeting god in paradise, to meet you one last time" "she is heaven's light" "she is hellfire" "you remember church as a boy. the fear and the passion. that's what she makes me feel" "when he leaves the room, he bows and acts precisely as if he were before a shrine" "we are one person in two bodies" "i am not whole without you" "i need my other half. you are me, and i am you" "o that it were not in religion sin to make our love a god, and worship it" "unable are the loved to die for love is immortality, nay it is deity - unable they that love to die for love reforms vitality into divinity" kind of love

[creacherkeeper]

when you didn't even know you needed a second chance

{the good bones, maggie smith / summer doorway with african lilies, phyllis dodd / sputnik sweetheart, haruki murakami / ashe vernon / phoebe wahl / creacherkeeper / braiding sweetgrass, robin wall kimmerer / love poem with apologies for my appearance, ada limón / @korocore / i am offering this poem, jimmy santiago baca}

[ID: ten images, 8 of text and 2 paintings, in a litstack

1: [...] though I keep this from my children. I am trying to sell them the world. Any decent realtor, walking you through a real shithole, chirps on about good bones: This place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful.

2: a realistic painting in soft colors of a potted african lily plan sitting outside the open doorway of a home. beyond the door there are more plants in a garden

3: I have this strange feeling that I'm not myself anymore. It's hard to put into words, but I guess it's like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

4: So maybe this time, love doesn't kick down the door-- / doesn't rattle the windows or plant weeds in the flower garden. / Maybe you can't smell the smoke because, / for once, / nothing is burning.

5: There is a little house somewhere, surrounded by green cedar boughs, where we are eating oatcakes with honey, dipping them in our tea three times for good luck. Somewhere I am sitting with you in stillness.

6: Calm, for the most part. Also tired, also worried, also nervous, also scared, also sad, but those things were just … always swimming around inside her somewhere. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were bigger. They’d been quiet the last few days. It seemed another emotion had replaced them, a subtle sort of ache around her chest, a pang of longing that she had long come to recognize. / She really missed Morel.

7: [...] found her barefoot in the garden, planting beans and helping me fill my pail with earthworms that were severed by her shovel. I thought I could nurse them back to health in the worm hospital I constructed beneath the irises. She encouraged me in this, always saying, "There is no hurt that can't be healed by love."

8: I do like I do in the tall grass, more animal-me than much else. I'm wrong, it is that I love you, but it's more that when you say it back, lights out, a cold wind through the curtains, for maybe the first time in my life, I believe it.

9: a painting of many pastel flowers. the flowers are painted using thick brush strokes to give the petals a raised texture

10: I love you, / I have nothing else to give you, / so it is a pot full of yellow corn / to warm your belly in winter, / it is a scarf for your head, / to wear over your hair, / to tie up around your face. / I love you,

end ID]

[seriously-really-soft]

Malleus with a fat/chubby/plus-size MC

Warnings: none other than that this is not proofread! this is just complete fluff because I'm utterly in love with this dragon fae. I feel like I could totally write a part two to this if anyone wants it.

This man is irrefutably in awe of everything you do. Malleus would be a bit surprised if you ever told him you were insecure about a feature of yours because while he knows everyone has their insecurities (and he's well acquainted with his own for sure), he has always thought of you as absolutely breath taking.

Malleus definitely has a staring problem. Sneaking glances at you when you're oblivious to the tender eyes of love directed solely your way. You're so beautiful in all that you are.

When you're showing him your outfits, this man is your ultimate hype man. If you're going out with your other friends or running around NRC doing work for Crowley, Malleus always makes sure that he gets to see you because he never wants to miss out on seeing you. He always asks to see your outfits, especially when you dress up, and all he does is shower you in compliments

That color looks nothing short of heavenly on you, MC. When you prefer to wear super baggy clothing, he is equally as obsessed and in awe.

Your soft jawline? It's like something out of a classical painting; in fact, he wants to commission thousands of paintings of you. The graceful flow of your arms, that are nothing short of loving when you embrace him. your whole person that is joy incarnate. Days spent with you - loving you, showering you in praise, to feel this ardor and to have it returned by you - is bliss to Malleus.

It doesn't matter how being fat looks for you - he's in love with you in every way. From the tips of your fingers, to your hands and your wrists, the soft roundness of your shoulders, the stretch marks - Mr. I'm-in-love-with-mc-and-wish-to-never-be-parted-from-them-Malleus can go on and on about everything about you.

He likes to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles. Sometimes, he'll lift your hands up to cup his face and looks at you with a level of reverence that would frankly put Sebek into a coma. Malleus is also a fan of helping you put on/remove shoes; he likes to pepper kisses to your ankles and lift his head to lay in your lap. Oh? Are you shying away, MC? Does his boundless devotion fluster you? Good, you should know he's crazy over you

If you have boobs - the man is first of all, beyond respectful. He's a true gentleman and an absolute sweetheart. Secondly, he adores the stretch marks you may have around them. They look so soft and beyond perfect - the epitome of beauty really

Hip dips? Malleus like trailing a hand over them and up your waist. He believes Aphrodite couldn't hold a candle to you, that yours is the beauty people write poems about.

The elegant folds of your back, the soft plush of your thighs, the gentle strength your stature exudes - he literally can't get enough of you. And he lets you know that, and that's not just when you're feeling down about yourself.

Seeing you light up with confidence and take up space without any shame is so beautiful to him. He thinks you deserve to be happy more than anything, to believe in your own beauty and the irreplaceable place you have in the lives of everyone you allow into your space. There will never be another you, and Malleus always wants to be around you. He won't let you or anyone else downplay the space you have in his life in any capacity.

The amount of joy he feels just by being in your presence is adorable to see. Every part of him buzzes with love for you.

If you have trouble finding stuff in your size or ever tell him about the experience of being a fat person trying to find cute things in your size, Malleus will literally feel for this issue so much. Anything that has bothered you or made you feel like there isn't a place for you in the world - let alone a place where you can be happy and yourself - is something he takes issue with. So, he helps you out and personally makes a list of inclusive brands to check out with you.

He's there for you. He listens to when you're insecure or when someone says something about you or fat people in general that doesn't sit right with you. Malleus comforts you like a champ - he holds you and wipes your tears away with the sole desire of wanting you to feel how loved you are.