#I really do wish I knew of any to recommend

[maverick-werewolf]

Hi! I’ve been a big fan of your blog for a while now. Keep doing what you’re doing! I always had a sort of superficial interest in vampires and werewolves but you’ve opened my eyes to how interesting (and sometimes wacky) real folklore is. I was wondering if you had any documentary recommendations? Or any good shows dealing with folklore?

Firstly, thank you so much for the kind words! I'm immensely touched that you've become interested in these things because of my blog and work. That means the world to me. That's my mission, really. (Well, that and my true life's purpose of telling my stories/my fiction, particularly Wulfgard)

I deeply wish I could say I knew of any, but tragically, I honestly don't. I've tried a lot of documentaries, shows, and even various podcasts, but I've never found any that really suit me. Sooner or later, I always hear someone spout some kind of "facts" that were clearly very poorly-researched or just generally not properly checked at all. Documentaries, you'd think, would be very trustworthy, especially given some of the institutions that create them - and I'm not saying they all aren't, either! - but you desperately need to double-check even the information they give you. It's only good research to take nothing at face value.

So... sorry, but I really don't know. I've had on my own backburner for ages now making a series of YouTube videos and/or a podcast where I discuss folklore (especially werewolves, obviously), but I haven't ever had time so far. I have had my research featured on a few YouTube channels, but... I don't really want to link any of the vids because they also contain bad information, unfortunately.

I know I'm probably just too picky, and even bad shows have at least a few scraps of good information, if you check them thoroughly enough. I've become very jaded to this kind of thing, having been exposed to so much of it for so long. If anyone reading this has any recs, please share them in the replies!

P.S.: I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to get around to answering this ask. I really need to check my Tumblr more often again. I wish I didn't live in this culture of busy-ness, but I am always so busy.

[bixels]

I feel like I've seen most of what interests me in FiMFiction for the time being, so I read through some good ol' reliable Stardew Valley fanfics last night, only to realize.

Haley x Female Farmer is basically Rarijack. Rarijack adjacent.

[palukoo]

I know I’ve made other posts talking about or alluding to this but like. obviously there are like the old hollywood movies in the sort of dyke subtext canon (all about eve, rebecca, johnny guitar, etc) but like. there are so many movies that like 10 people have seen but I have such a clear gay vision or interpretation for it. most of them aren’t even GOOD. and yet!!

like the great lie is the one that haunts me the most (or the women but I think that one is kind of different for me perhaps bc I’ve already talked about it here a lot or perhaps bc I think of it as being more well known and watched than I think it actually is? actually it’s probably that I think it is an overall good and well executed and entertaining movie which isn’t really true of most of these tbh). but I also think a lot about like when ladies meet, or old acquaintance, or sadie mckee, or the shining hour, or the model and the marriage broker, or a woman’s secret, or the bigamist, or craig’s wife, or born to be bad, or separate tables, or even dark victory to a degree. others too certainly those are just the ones that come to mind. for half of these it’s not even like oh these women are gay together it’s just like hey I think she’s a lesbian. and I’m right. but my genius will never be fully appreciated in my day unfortunately.

[derpinette]

sometimes i will get bored & go through someone's entire blog since its creation

[xitsensunmoon]

My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)

The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!

Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.

The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)

Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c

As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!

And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.

I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.

Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)

[wannabeschyulersister]

lovelorn and nobody knows

Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.

As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.

There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.

And to Claire.

You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.

She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.

You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.

Every part of your being wished that were you.

You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.

You felt like a lovesick fool.

Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.

The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.

As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.

There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.

When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.

So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.

He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.

You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.

“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.

“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.

“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.

Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”

Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”

Shit.

You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.

“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” He stated.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”

Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.

“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”

Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”

He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.

She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.

Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.

[allurilove]

Yandere Mob Boss x you

*This is inspired by the show called My Sweet Mobster! And this is just a short little drabble! I just quickly wrote this, so if there’s any mistakes, I am probably going to fix it.*

Synopsis: You’re a mommy blogger who shares your life on the internet, and unbeknownst to you, a terrifying and dangerous mob boss starts to watch all of your videos.

He just wanted to wind down for the day. There was nothing more tiring than coercing information out of stubborn little fuckers—people who were a huge threat to his empire—and ending up with nothing when they succumbed to their wounds from hours of torture. He sat in his huge California king bed with the softest sheets known to man, the air conditioning blasting at the perfect temperature for the room, and he scrolled through his YouTube recommendations.

He used the remote to flip through all the channels he had previously watched and liked. But one really caught his interest. He first rolled his eyes when he realized it was one of those mommy “bloggers” who just boasted about how their lives were better than everyone else’s, and how they conveniently got a pass to post the craziest and most intrusive things about their children. Kids getting exploited wasn’t something he wanted to watch, and he was surprised to even see your channel show up on his flat TV screen.

The yandere mob boss mostly watched primitive cooking videos or those men who went out into the wilderness and built houses from the ground up. Although, he was too lazy to click on a button to skip your video, so he decided to give you a shot instead.

You were perfect. Too perfect. It was hard for him not to get sucked in and binge-watch every post you had made. He was absolutely enamored at the sight of you and your adorable children. He barely blinked whenever you came on the screen, and his eyes tried to get a good look and memorize your face completely.

You were just talking about how you liked to make things from scratch, how you kept a little garden in your backyard, and how you got the kids to help you out as a fun activity. He learned that the father of your children was a deadbeat who never wanted to do anything with the kids and left the moment he could. Judging by your frustrated tone in your ‘Get to Know Me’ video, you were upset that he had left you so soon and suddenly. It certainly wasn’t easy for you at first, and you talked about how you wished you had a mentor to help you. Thus, this channel came to be. You wanted to help other women and help all the families that were going through the same thing as you. You were an amazing person, mother, and you gave helpful advice to all the new parents out there.

You were the total opposite of him. You were better.

You wouldn't kill people, you wouldn't threaten and torture them to the brink of death, and you were sickly kind and sweet to everyone. It was nauseating for the man to even think about dealing with hate comments (he got them daily from the news outlet), to edit and figure out what to do for each video, and you started to open his eyes and made him realize that you were practically superwoman.

The yandere mob boss was so grateful that you had posted about a hundred videos on your mommy blog. A hundred videos for him to see a glimpse into your life. There was nothing safe about how you were so open and honest, and certainly, you should have kept your mouth shut about the new place you were about to move into.

For someone who was a YouTuber, you knew nothing about internet safety. He took a mental note of how the interior of your new house looked, and you even showed a bit of the exterior and the neighborhood. He wrote down in his notes to remind himself to look for the exact house on Redfin or Zillow.

The yandere mob boss knew your two children’s names: Lila and Finn. Lila was the youngest of the two; she didn’t look anything like you, which meant she looked like the baby daddy. It was a shame, really, that the cute small girl had to end up with genes from the horrible parent. The eldest stuck to you like glue. He clearly held a candle for his father still, and was having a hard time adjusting to the new lifestyle. Despite that, you continue to push on.

And so did he.

Yandere mob boss binge-watched all of your videos to the point where he knew everything there was to know about you. He knew all the schools you went to, all the partners (you were willing to share) you had previously dated, and he could feel his cold exterior start to crack when he let out a genuine laugh at your witty jokes. He spent hours, weeks, and now months watching your channel flourish and grow.

He smiled when you did. He too let out a sigh of relief after you saved your kid from tripping. He laughed, cried, blushed, and got angry when you did. The expressions and emotions he was feeling were all controlled by your content, and by you personally. You truly had him in the palm of your hand.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head?

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 1364

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.

You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.

Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.

Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.

The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.

“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.

“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.

“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.

Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.

You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.

“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.

There we go.

*Eddie’s POV*

Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!

The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?

She better let me make the basement my room!

Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.

YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?

He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.

*End Eddie’s POV*

You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.

“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.

“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.

Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!

Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.

“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.

“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.

You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.

“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.

“How loud?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”

“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.

Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.

Finally! My own car!

The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.

Then Vecna will make a surprise return.

What the hell?

This campaign is going to be epic!

His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.

The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?

You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

Here we fucking go.

“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”

God he’s hot.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”

Assholes.

Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.

“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”

He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

[lavandulawrites]

The Grocery Trip

Yandere Alhaitam x reader

I had a dream about yandere Alhaitam and me going to a grocery store (though in the dream it was in the modern era). I wanted some sort of unhealthy drink powder and he refused to buy it. I just felt like I had to make this scenario into a fic. I am thinking of writing different grocery store scenarios with different yandere genshin men.

Masterlist

Word count: 597

The grocery store was quiet save from the bell which chimed whenever a customer entered. A colourful isle caught your eye. Rows upon rows were filled with colourful items from Fontaine.

You turned to your grey haired companion. “Can we take a look at the new items from Fontaine? Please?”

Alhaitam’s expression unamused. “Fine” his answer followed by a sigh. His hand that were not holding the basket, linked with yours. The gesture was meant to look like a romantic gesture, but you knew he was only trying to make you stick with him.

Upon a closer inspection some of the various Fontainan gods were things you had never heard off. Some were nutritious meals that you only needed to heat up and some were rather unhealthy snacks.

A orange red container with a logo of a smiling strawberry caught your eye. Frizzy Pop. You took a hold of the container and turned it around to read the description. It was some sort of powder you mixed with water to get a sweet and refreshing drink. Just what you needed.

With a smile you turned towards Alhaitam. “Can we get this? It looks really delicious!” you waved the box in front of his face which earned you a scowl.

“Absolutely not” his expression stern.

You rolled your eyes “Why not?”

He grabbed the Frizzy Pop out of your hand and inspected it like it was a the most serious thing. “You can’t even pronounce 85% of these ingredients”

“Ugh come on!” you threw your head back and dramatically sighed. “Why must you be so strict?”

“Call me strict all you want. I just care about your wellbeing. Is that so hard to understand?” Alhaitam crossed his arms. His muscles flexing slightly with annoyance.

You whined and dragged your hand across your face in irritation. “I am my own person. I don’t really need to listen to you!”

“Oh yeah? What would be of you if you didn’t, hmm? Would you perhaps be living on the streets? Oh that’s right… You would” his eyes cold. What he said was true. He had indeed helped you out of a though financial crisis and given you a place to live. In exchange he had kept you under his watchful eyes in the name of love. At least that’s what he so bluntly called it.

“It’s a drink powder Alhaitam. It’s not a big deal! And besides I already follow your recommended nutrition plan”. He had given you a long list of foods you could and could not eat. He had been very strict about it and he made few exceptions. He said it was in your best interest. You did argue with him at first. You hated how he thought he had the right to choose what you ate or not, but after a while you stopped with the arguments. You had noticed how on edge he had been lately and you knew very well that he was extremely close to just look you away in his house.

“It is a big deal. If you actually had any knowledge about nutrition and different ingredients you would know what I mean” he scoffed. His arrogant tone making your eye twitch.

“Now let’s put this back and pay for our things” he put the container back in place.

He squeezed your arm with his bicep in a warning. “ I really do love you, you know?” he pressed a quick kiss on the top of your head. His blue orange eyes filled with love deeper than what you could ever wish to understand.

[tomatopers]

about the hoyoverse boycott

i just wanted to put my two cents out there, as a South Asian:

We knew, from before anything was out, that Natlan would lack skin tone diversity at bare minimum, so it came as no surprise when these characters showed up; To preface my post, this does not make what happened and what's happening okay.

Why are people mad? Obviously, the skin tones are a big part of it. Yes, lightskinned people exist and live, etc, in these cultures- no, they do not make up 100% of them. What Hoyoverse is doing in Natlan is blatantly profiting off of poc cultures/religion in a disrespectful manner, and they have [once again] failed to acknowledge this. A really obvious example of this is the character "Ororon." I am no expert in Olorun, but as many have said, this character is meant to be based off of the deity.

This is awful- there are NO similarities, "Ororon" looks like my gacha life oc from seventh grade, and the disrespect towards the Yoruba people is insane.

As a twitter user whose tag I forgot mentioned, the majority of the Natlan Characters shown so far have been lighter than Lois Griffin [Family Guy].

Onto the boycott itself- If you are going to boycott Genshin, I recommend also boycotting other Hoyoverse games- being f2p isn't hard either, if you do not want to stop playing completely.

Additionally, I will link a petition to the bottom of this post, as well as some other things you can do to protest this.

I do wish I could have seen more of my and my family's culture in Sumeru, and that this backlash could have also occurred there, but in my honest opinion they did worse with Natlan and I'm glad we as a community are choosing to do something about it.

As a closing piece, I would like to point out the frequency of darker skintones in npcs, specifically enemies; The aggressive POC stereotype is both harmful and obviously incorrect, and people like me do not exist just to be placed constantly in secondary/antagonistic roles. Thanks.

Petition: https://www.change.org/p/stop-cultural-appropriation-and-whitewashing-in-mihoyo-games

Twitter posts about sending a feedback email [and template]: https://x.com/alsoknownasaki/status/1542216133734010881

Update bc I did not research ahead of this like a loser: Sumeru is not any better than Natlan actually!!!! Found out Nahida/Kusanali is likely based off of the Persian goddess Nahid and/or the Hindu goddess Saraswati! Sorry 😭

[teaboot]

does the itchy vulva answer apply to itchy clitoris? i think the vulva is just the “lips” but i don’t really know

also i don’t wanna shave down there just bc it makes it itchy due to irritation & causes ingrown hairs and it’s just annoying to do, but i didn’t know it made infections and stuff more likely! i’ve had to visit my mom’s gynecologist for period stuff, and she had me shave so i would be less gross for the doctor to look at i guess? and when the doctor was doing my exam she commented that i shouldn’t shave due to the irritation thing, but i wish i knew about what you said!! are infections and diseases more common because the hair somehow acts as a shield? how’s it work if not? sorry for the long ask

The vulva is the whole outside part- clitoris, labia (the "lips"), urethra, and vaginal opening. The vagina is inside your body- the 'tunnel' part- but most people just refer to the whole damn basement as the vagina, which isn't medically accurate. So yes, itching sensations in the "vulva" could apply to all these outer areas.

Gynecologists do not care. They have seen everything. They have seen hairy people and waxed people and young people and old people. They've seen infections and diseases and disorders and scarring and injuries. I promise they do not think hair is gross. You do not have to shave. It is 2pm on a Tuesday at the office for them. It's fine.

Hair maximizes surface area and protects the skin, which is delicate around genital areas, from cold, heat, drying, and friction. It traps dust, dead skin, bacteria, and debris before it can migrate to areas which are vulnerable to infection, like your vagina and urethra. There's nothing wrong with trimming hair if you choose to, but it grows the way it does for a reason.

If you DO choose to shave, follow the grain and use a gentle moisturizer. Wear breathable underwear and wash the area when you bathe with clean water, no soap.

Do whatever you want with your body, just remember to research first.

Just a reminder that I am not a medical professional. For any questions regarding your body personally, I always 100% recommend asking your doctor.

Fantastic questions!

[tlou-reid]

!! smut below the cut !! this is 18+ !! mdni !!

this is the same pop star!reader x spencer au as this and this !! i recommend reading them first

spencer doesn’t know what to do with himself the first time he sees you live.

it took a really long time for your schedules to align to make it happen, and he’s making a nervous fool of himself. of course, your attention isn’t on him. you’re busy entertaining the crowd, performing your few songs you have out and engaging with your fans. it’s truly a sight to see.

spencer just wished he wasn’t focused on himself the whole time.

his whole body is warm as he watches the way you move across the stage, dancing. the sway of your hips has held his attention throughout the show. he is truly in awe of you.

it wasn’t until you sashayed your way to the spot you’d saved for him that he let his eyes scan up and down. he was right up front, on the right side of the stage. he was in the same area as some of the other people you’d invited, but, due to his aversion to people he didn’t know, he was keeping his distance from the crowd.

you locked eyes with him as the song slowed, getting ready for the beat to drop.

and when it did, so did you.

spencer was trying to be a gentleman. trying so hard to be chivalrous. he didn’t want to see like one of the weirdos in the crowd, who sexualize you and tweet disgusting things about him. but when you’re “slut dropping” (as the internet calls it) right above him, it’s really hard for his dick to not swell in his pants.

he was sure his face was red, probably embarrassingly so. he was hoping you couldn’t see it since you were surrounded by so many bright lights.

but he was wrong. and he knew he was wrong as soon as you stood back up, turned to face him, and sent a wink his way before slipping to the other side of the stage.

he was hard. painfully so. his mind was replaying the moment over and over again, and he was no better than the weirdos as he made his way to the bathroom. luckily, the friends and family area had a single bathroom, as opposed to stalls.

as soon as he was sure the door was locked, he was unzipping his slacks and pushing them to rest just below his balls. usually, when he was getting himself off, he warmed himself up a bit. he would apply pressure over his pants, trace up and down his dick to spread pre-cum around, and work himself slowly.

he didn’t have time for that today.

spencer tried not to cringe as he spit his hand, immediately reaching to stroke himself. he let out a sigh of relief as he squeezed tighter, working himself to orgasm as fast as possible. his mind was racing with different images of you on stage. he had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory.

his hand moved messily up and down his dick, allowing his spit to mix with precum. spencer was biting his bottom lip, trying to contain his moans whines, especially as he started approaching climax.

he came hard and fast, doing his best to make sure he didn’t get any cum on pants. he leaned against the wall as he stroked himself through his orgasm, and even stayed there as he recovered. spencer was out of breath as he started to clean himself up.

some sort of regret or guilt or disgust would set in later, but he needed to get back out to watch the last of your performance.

and just as quick as he disappeared, he returned to the audience. he cheered you on through a few more songs, but wanted to beat the crowd and headed out a bit early. that had been the plan from the beginning, and you knew that.

the first thing you did when you stepped off the stage was reach for your phone, opening your text thread with ‘spencer 🕵️’ and asking him how he enjoyed the show.

spencer was bit busy with himself, so he didn’t answer until the next morning.

[eisforeidolon]

Question: You guys have been so close for so long, what would you say each other's greatest character trait is and why?

Jared: As people? And I have to say this in front of him?

[Jensen theatrically turns to Jared, crosses his leg, and props his chin on his hand to listen]

Jared: I mean, where do I start, honestly? But I'd say one of the things that has been abundantly obvious to me, and I relied on for almost the last twenty years? Is he doesn't give up. He doesn't give up - not on a project, not on a person. He just goes, like, alright, one step at a time, let's do it. Not that he doesn't get down, I mean, we're all humans, we have good days and bad days [Jensen nods]. But when the shit hits the fan, he's - I always said he'd be a good, like, Navy Seal or something. 'Cause he's just like, okay, what's next? I can't change that, what are we doing? Like, didn't you just hear, the camera broke, the stage is on fire. And he's like, alright, well, can we get something from tomorrow's work? Like, he's just sort of like, alright - he goes. And that, that - I don't want to say it's confidence, because it doesn't come from a place of arrogance, or some ego? It just comes from alright then what can we do? And so it's infectious to go like, well, that guy over there, Jensen, he's still ready to get after it, even though everything went wrong and everything broke and everything's on fire, he's still ready to carry on. To borrow the name of an episode. So I think that that permeates a lot of his life, whether things are great or things are not great? He just goes, like, okay, cool, what's next? I can't change that, so what can I do, what can we do? And he doesn't put - he's not one of those drill sergeant, hey, I'm ready to do it, you better do it. But you see him doing and well, if he can do it, then maybe I can, too. So it's a very hopeful attitude, that I really appreciated. [Jensen pats Jared's leg, Jared pats his back]

Jensen: There are many, so I will pick one. And one that I admire and I, you know, wish I had more of is his appetite for knowledge in the things he becomes even remotely interested in. He can take a subject, any topic, and wonder about it. And he doesn't continue to wonder very long. I just kind of sit in that wonderment for a while, oh, that's - I wish I knew more about that. Oh well. Jared dives deep. And almost in just an insatiable appetite way of wanting to know more and that zest for knowledge and life is - it's inspiring? But it's just so unique and powerful for somebody to have that and have that drive to wanna know so much more about so many different - I mean the guy is insanely intelligent in a way that - I always knew he was smart, I always knew he had a really great head on his shoulder, but. Shoulders. Two just stunningly muscular shoulders. But he gets an interest in something and he just digs in so, like, amazingly. And any subject - if it's academics, if it's wanting to know about - like I'm always like, hey Jared, what supplements should I be on? Because I know he knows all about it. Or hey man, I'm looking for a book right now, what are your recommendations? And he'll give me thirteen, fourteen recommendations. He just has - his brain works in just such a brilliant way that I've always been in awe of how he's able to do that and do it consistently. You know he doesn't burn out, he doesn't tire out with the zest that he has for wanting to know more about life, and it too is infectious. And I was it was more infectious, I wish I would be infected with it completely. But I get a little bit of it and it's inspiring for me to wanna just know more and learn more and have that desire for knowledge the way he does. It's really really impressive and I think it's had an amazing impact on his life and the way that he can relate to so many different - you put him in a room with anybody and he will have a researched knowledgeable way of communicating with just about anybody and everybody on almost any topic. And that to me is just incredible, so. And again, that's one of many things that I could say, but that one just popped to the front. [Jared squeezes Jensen's knee and then puts his hand on his back]

[qierxing]

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. This is one of the longest fics I’ve written…..carried by my love for Heartslabyul. Been chipping away at this every so often until now. I would strongly recommend reading Shiny’s part first, or else a good part of this will not make sense. Part two will be something that will be floating in the future.

TW/CW: Graphic descriptions of PTSD & panic attack symptoms, self-harm from bad coping habits, dissociation, dismemberment, references to Alice in Wonderland, made up lore LOL

I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

"So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality…"

– Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

i. Cremation

Ramshackle's mailbox is a pitiful thing.

It sits right in front of the small graveyard near forgotten covered in tangled vines and weeds. Unlike its surroundings which shine from recent renovations and repairs, the hinges still squeak loudly when the latch is opened and the outer parts are scratched and dented. On bright sunny days, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

And today, it's even more obvious.

The box now is in danger of tilting off its support pole, filled with the weight of lumpy letters, spilling out envelopes upon the dirt. Around it sits various colorful wrapped boxes and packages that are piled haphazardly across each other. You swear it gets larger each passing day.

“How many does this make?” 

A battered top hat pops into existence next to you, one of the resident Ramshackle ghosts who's been helping you around lately. (He had said you remind him of his siblings when he was alive. You're still unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.)

You let out a sigh through your nose. There's nothing to say about the situation in front of you. You wish they could disappear the minute you wish for it, yet the colorful wrappings and the various envelopes scattered around your feet don’t vanish the more you stare. 

“I’m really sorry about all this.” 

The ghost shakes his head, frowning at your apology.

“It’s not your fault, prefect.” 

The words are reassuring, but they don’t make the gross feeling go away when you crouch down and start picking up letters that have fallen out of the mailbox. 

From: Azul Ashengrotto 

Sender: Vil Schoenheit

Sent by: Riddle Rosehearts

All of them are addressed to you, of course. You can already imagine their contents: filled to the brim with regret and guilt, blotted words begging for forgiveness for the wrongs they’ve done. When you told the Headmaster that you didn’t want anyone visiting Ramshackle, that wasn’t an invitation for them to flood you with unwanted mail. Then again, perhaps you should have foreseen that they would do this. All of them are stubborn to a fault. It wasn't like your phone was any better until you’ve blocked all numbers making it go off endlessly like a shrieking parrot.

The resulting letters alone are thick enough to rival the textbooks Professor Trein assigns students. Pressing your lips together, you turn around to start heading back to your temporary home.The rest of the bulky packages can wait. The ghost helps swing the door open and Grim perks up from his seat in the living room as you set down the letters.

“Grim, can you get a fire going?”

“Now?”

He eyes the thick pile of letters with wary slit pupils and asks, “Aren’t ya…gonna read ‘em?”

You did. For the first few ones, at least. They were barely discernible, their apologies blurring by as they begged for your grace and mercy. That they would do anything to right their wrongs. If you didn’t know any better, you would say their reverence was akin to a cult. 

It makes your skin crawl.

After that, you stopped bothering to even  skim through. What is the point of continuing to make sense of lunatics? Of cruel games and intrepid players?

"We have the wood, and the house is a bit chilly, so why not?" You reply. Grim scrunches his eyebrows but doesn't object as heavy wooden logs are dumped into the grate. He takes a deep breath and blows upon the letters scattered on the wood, encasing everything in familiar neon blue flames.

You settle into the armchair next to Grim, staring into flickering blue flames. Grim curls up next to you, purring contentedly. All too easily, your eyes lull close to the sound of crackling flames consuming paper.

–

When you step out onto the front porch the next morning, you're overtaken by an overwhelming fragrance.

There's crimson red petals floating through the air. Fluttering in the crisp morning wind, they fall in your hair and the rest end up crushed under your feet. You'd feel bad if it wasn't so pungent; the very air feels like it's infused with the scent of roses. 

Your nose crinkles as you pick up the impossibly huge bouquet that is wrapped in silk and ribbons. It's certainly beautiful, you'll give it that. Yet this scent doesn't bring back good memories. It only brings vivid flashbacks of being lost among rose bushes, covered in dirt and scratches, trying so frantically to find a way out. When every single crack and snap was a possible life threat. 

You don't realize you're crushing the bouquet until something trickles down your fingers. It doesn't feel like blood pooling between your skin. Relaxing your grip ever so slightly, you find pin sharp thorns running down the stems where you were gripping. The fleshy meat of your palm is punctured cleanly in the shapes of the thorns. Was it left unclipped on purpose?

The card is the next thing you find with bloodied fingers, rumpling white cardstock and soiling it without a care.

To our beloved player,

We deeply apologize for the pain we have caused you and beg for your forgiveness. We will make sure to atone for our sins of harming you.

~H

The initial and the bouquet is too obvious of who it's from. Riddle must've penned it, because none of the card soldiers would ever write this formally. But it must've been Cater's idea to send the bouquet–Trey nor Riddle would've come up with such a sentimental and sappy idea. And Ace and Deuce would rather die than do such a cringey thing. 

The door opens again behind you. You turn to see a half-awake Grim groggily yawning. He stops once his blue eyes land on the bouquet in your hands.

"Whazz that?" He points a paw at the rumpled roses, and you hastily shove them behind your back. 

"Nothing." You say.

Grim makes a face before finally breaking the awkward silence with, "Do ya want me to go tell 'em off–"

"No." 

The answer is rushed and makes Grim's eyes widen. It's crazy, you know. But to have Grim try to solve the problem for you doesn't sit well with you. It's not like it's his fault for what you went through.

And maybe, deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of telling them nasty insults and curses to make them hate you more.

"I'll take care of it." You add, trying to reassure Grim, who only stares impassively. He shakes his head.

"Am I making another fire?"

"...if you can, please."

ii. The Morgue

It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been brought to Twisted Wonderland. 

Yuu’s…body has been moved to another room. It freaks you out more than you would like to admit. It’s familiar, yet it’s not. It’s carved to your image, but with none of your personality. There’s something wrong with the way its eyes are tilted, the dip of its cheeks, the curve of the chin. An idealistic, dreamy mirror of yourself.

Still. You’ve seen many dolls in your lifetime, and even you cannot deny the life like artisanship. The seams of the joints are cleverly hidden and the skin is smooth and unfettered without any misshapen resin(or clay?)–these are marks of a true doll-maker.

“It’s your vessel.” Grim had said with a matter of fact tone. As if you weren't looking at an unmoving human body. “Everyone was freakin’ out cuz’ it just shut down outta nowhere.”

It must’ve been because you were brought here at that moment. The hypothesis doesn’t really make you feel any better. You should know better than to blame an inanimate shell of a vessel, but... 

You jerk awake, cold sweat running down your neck and face. It takes a second for you to realize you're not being encased in burning scarlet flames and it's not claustrophobic verdant green hedges surrounding you. The bed sheets are tangled, wrapped in a chokehold around your legs and torso. Instead of translucent leaves, the bed canopy curtain shields you from the moonlight pouring in. The soft snores of Grim sync with your ragged breaths in time.

Tonight's nightmare had been recurring for a while. Every single time you thought you had shaken it off, it comes back like a bad omen.

Instinctively, your hand runs over the bumpy raise of scars running down your back and neck. Most of them had faded with magical treatment and time, but there are some that still have rough skin that has hardened like scales on a dragon. 

Your fingertips curve inward and dig. 

You thought you were safe. The rose maze is large and encompassing: hiding would be the best move. You breath in–

– and you were face to face with the Crimson Tyrant himself.

His face contains no humanity, his eyes only reflect dark, dark anger and resentment. You thought you were staring into a never ending abyss. Something inky black catches your eye, and you realize with horror that blot is trapping your feet and leaving stains upon your skin.

"Stop right there, imposter!"

Your nails scrabble at the bumps and raises, tearing through them with obsessive speed. Faster, faster–it doesn't feel right, you have to scrub your skin clean of those foreign textures.

Adrenaline is the only thing keeping your legs from collapsing to the blot climbing its way up. You have to do something–

–something wraps around your neck and torso, and all air leaves you as it squeezes and knife sharp needles gnaw into bone.

Your breathing grows more hoarse as your nails scratch faster and faster, desperate to remove more of those vile clumps of impurities. 

"You will suffer as Yuu did." The verdict is declared with deranged gleeful vengeance. The tyrant points his scepter at your fallen body covered in thorny vines reminiscent of roses. Blot swallows your form and screams whole–

It's only when the familiar smell of iron registers in your mind, that you finally snap back to your senses. When you finally draw your hand back to view, it's covered in clotted blood and torn skin, both dead and fresh, all clogged under your nails. The open cold air now makes your neck and back sting sharply as blood trickles out of reopened wounds.

It's with a heavy heart that you quietly leave the bedroom entirely to wash away the blood in the kitchen sink. Crimson dyes the white ceramic for a brief moment before swirling away down the drain. 

The wounds sting and ache, but you can barely be bothered to tend to them as you resign yourself to the living room couch with a thin blanket. You think of Grim sleeping unaware upstairs and close your eyes. The old weathered grandfather clock in the corner ticks on and on with each second.

No, you can't blame a puppet for functioning for its purpose.

But you could tear its limbs out of its sockets so it could never walk anywhere again. If you plucked out its fingers and eyes, it wouldn't be able to find its way around anymore. Sewing the mouth shut would seal the deal.

Then it would truly know how it felt to have no choice.

–

Working as Sam's assistant helps take the mind off things. Crowley had begged you to resume classes as Grim's 'beast tamer', but something in you screamed at the thought of having to shed your feelings aside to return to what normalcy was. As if this world didn't run on the giant malicious cogwheels of fate and lines of code.

How painfully obvious it is that your mere presence is just a substitute. 

"Ah!" 

You look up from sorting products on the shelves to a surprised looking Riddle Rosehearts. No no no no–

You take in his sunken gray eyes and pale skin, before going back to shelving products. It takes strength to play dumb. Your shaking hands betray the fear growing within as they sort through stationary merchandise. Finally, the products are lined up neatly and you're trying to bustle away as quickly as you can–

"W-wait!" You try to ignore the half whispered plea, moving behind the counter with an unnatural speed. 

"Please, wait, I need something!" You do stop, because unfortunately, you can't completely ignore a customer in need. So you take a deep breath and grit your teeth, turning around with a polite smile. Stare straight ahead. Think not of smoldering flames and knife like rose thorns–

"What can I help you with?" He stares into your eyes, frantic and desperate. It's clear with the way his mouth opens and closes that he wasn't sure how to continue his case.

"If you aren't sure, take your time to browse, dear customer." The grin was starting to wear on your cheeks already with how much you struggle to keep it in place. 

Please just leave, you internally beg. You settle behind the counter, watching as Riddle bows his head and disappears among the shelves for his items. A tired sigh leaves your nose. 

Your hands keep shaking no matter how hard you clench and unclench them. 

He can't hurt me here. 

Sam is just a yell away and there's mace and a knife in your bag underneath the counter. 

It'll be fine. It's not the Tyrant.

A clink of glass catches your attention, as some ink bottles are pushed on the counter. 

"I've finished." Riddle's smoldering eyes choke you under their hues.

"I'll ring that up, then." 

The exchange happens quietly yet as you hand him the bottles, he pauses, looking down. "What happened to your hand?" 

Shit. There were still obvious swollen scratches and puncture holes imprinted on your hand. You completely forgot about bandages after Grim caught you with the bouquet the other day. You quickly hide your hand in your pocket. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He seems to want to say more, but is cut off when someone else comes up behind him, waiting to pay for their items. He only swallows hard and nods, setting out with only a guilty look back.

You finally breathe out a long sigh of relief when the door chimes echo behind him.

-

"That'll be ten thaumarks and thirty madols." 

This is the fifth time Riddle's shown up during your shift and bought ink. This time, it's a deep crimson color not unlike the shade that saturates his dorm. It reminds you of torn skin on nails from that night, and it takes a minute to shake those thoughts off as you pick up the bottles.

"Prefect, could I talk to you after your shift ends?" You turn to fix him with an incredulous stare, and he grimaces.

"I promise I won't harm you! Did you not get our letters?" But how can I trust you? On this cracked chessboard you are forced to play upon, you don't know where to place Riddle at all. He is too much of an unstable bomb that could blow up in your face at the wrong impression.

"Fine." He definitely won't back down until you agree to hear him out, and it's best to let him state his case once and for all. "My shift ends in an hour. I'll meet you outside."

"Excellent. I shall wait for you then, prefect." He takes his bag and leaves with a small bow.

The time passes all too quickly. Sam shoos you out before you can try to coax some overtime hours from him. And much to your annoyance, Riddle is waiting for you promptly as you step outside.

He looks nervous as he bows his head in acknowledgement of your presence. You'd almost feel bad, if it weren't for the fact that he nearly beheaded you at first sight.

"Have you received our recent letter and flowers?" A long silence follows, before you reluctantly nod. Your hand throbs as you open and close it out of habit. You just removed the bandages this morning, but the unbearable itch to reopen the scars is too tempting. Steel eyes are immediately drawn to the movement. "I see. Then I won't drag this out. Prefect, could we prove to you our sincerity to make amends?"

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I said. Please let our dorm express to you our sincerity to mend our relationship." The intensity of his eyes makes you sick to your stomach.

"You've apologized enough, Housewarden Rosehearts. I'm sure your card soldiers have too." Subconsciously, your hand drifts toward your neck.

He winces. No doubt it must be a sting to his pride that his numerous penned letters weren't acknowledged. "It's not just about apologies. We want to start over–turn over a new leaf, if you will, for our relationship. It would be a disgrace to the Queen of Hearts herself if I could not atone for what I've done."

Always with the rules. You're not entirely sure what Riddle means when he says 'mending your relationship', but it seems he's already set his mind to it. It would be hard pressing to get him to change his mind now.

"...sure." You reluctantly acquiesce. The tips of your nails brush against scarred skin before drawing back. You shouldn't. It took so long for the wounds to close again, for sinew to piece itself together, and for skin to finally grow back. You don't want another lecture by Crewel or Trein.

He brightens considerably with a look of relief. "Good. Then, please wait for our call." 

You watch in confusion as he trots off hurriedly after another deep bow. Wait for our call? What does that–

Something buzzes, and you realize it's your phone, lighting up with a notification from Magicam. You frown, tapping on the icon. A message? 

cay4cay sent a message request

The second you processed the username and profile picture, you instantly hit the block button. With a frustrated scowl, you shove the phone into your pocket. You deleted Yuu's account and only had a burner account for info purposes. How the hell did that social butterfly find your handle?

You groan. This is all too much.

iii. Paying Respects

A letter arrives, but not by mail.

A jarring commotion rudely rips you from sleep's embrace. You groggily sit up, blinking once, twice, before realizing the noises were very much real and still happening. Who is this loud on a Sunday morning? Grim continues to snooze right next to you, unperturbed by the disturbances. You debate whether it's worth it to get out of the comfy covers. Then another yell echoes up to the room and you groan in annoyance. 

You slam the entrance doors open, ready to give the lecture of a lifetime before you stop in your tracks. 

Deuce Spade looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. Even Ace Trappola, haughty asshole that he is, looks thoroughly ashamed to be caught in a compromising pose. The scene is so familiar that you can't seem to be confused. It takes a second of awkward staring from all three of you before you realize that you're still standing in your thin pajamas, out front in the public entryway in the cold.

"...May I help you?" The distant polite inquiry has them both flinching. They scramble to their feet, brushing off dirt and debris from their fist fight. 

"We're very sorry!" Deuce bows deeply, while Ace scoffs and looks away.

"Housewarden Riddle told us to give you this, so…" Ace shoves a white envelope with a seal boasting a crown insignia into your hands. The Queen of Hearts. You exhale through your nose. So this is what Riddle meant earlier.

You open the envelope gingerly, carefully inspecting it as if it were some kind of trap.

"We're going to have a party soon." Ace is still determinedly avoiding your eyes. "You can come…if you want."

You hold back a sardonic chuckle. Even after everything that's happened, he's trying to act like some kind of cool, suave guy. Your eyes drop down again and you open up the flap to reveal the elegant crimson cursive that decorates the paper.

You're cordially invited to Heartslabyul's monthly tea party. Please send your response ASAP.

Date: XX/05

Time: 14:00 - 17:00

A silence lingers in the air, heavy as a rock. You can tell without looking that the two were holding bated breaths waiting for your reply.

This certainly was out of the blue. But. It was Ace and Deuce. Riddle may have issued the order, but they must've taken initiative in delivering her majesty's decree. Stubborn and tenacious, yet they were still endearing with their loyal friendship. Who in this world would run across a whole desert for you?

That wasn't for you though. The intrusive thought immediately makes your lips thin. The card soldiers shift at the subtle expression change, nervousness painted all over their faces.

You would be lying if you said you weren't curious. Why an invitation to a tea party? It was rather unlike Heartslabyul–or at least most of them–to be indirect like this.

"Sure. I'll be there. I can bring Grim, right?" You flip over the card and envelope, raising an eyebrow at their stunned faces.

"Wait, you serious?" Ace stutters. His ruby eyes blink rapidly as his mouth gapes open. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes.

"Why would I waste my time lying to you?" You sigh, crossing your arms. Granted, you never did send any response back to that ostentatious bouquet, but you were already preoccupied with the hundred of other letters and packages flooding your mailbox. 

"In that case, of course Grim can come!" Deuce says, looking like he's been released from an entire burden off his chest. It was no doubt plaguing him on what your answer would be.

"Great." You wave a careless hand, turning to close the door. You're so ready to go back under soft bed covers. "You can give my answer to your housewarden. See you then."

A hand grabs at your arm and tugs you back suddenly. You turn and open your mouth–

"You! You're the one that caused Yuu to shut down!!"

Wind blasts past you, leaving a thin trickle of blood down your cheek. Eyes wide, all you can do is stare at furious crimson eyes glaring you down.

"-Hey!" 

Those eyes. It's the same bloody crimson. The same sharp glint of raw bloodlust. Your right cheek aches terribly. Cold sweat runs down your back. Try as you might, you cannot suppress the reactive instinct to flee.

"Don't touch me." Your terse response has Ace retracting his own hand immediately. 

"S-sorry, sorry–" He’s scrambling to get past his mistake. If you were in a better state of mind, you would've laughed at his genuinely flustered state. "I–I didn't mean to grab you like that, it’s just that–"

"We also have something else.” Deuce cuts in, trying to cover for Ace’s blunder. He shoves something warm under your nose, and it takes a hot minute to process what you’re smelling. 

Lavender. The cookies within his hands are simple and aren’t decorated, but the buttery floral aroma they emit leaves you salivating. You slowly take it from his hands, staring at the carefully packaged bag. 

“...From Trey,” Deuce offers hesitantly after seeing your surprised expression. His tight expression and stiff posture betrays the way he is attempting to look respectable. “He's wanted to send you something for a while now.”

For a while? His dorm mates were all clambering to get any crumb of response from you. He might've had the manners then to understand that you wouldn't be delighted to hear from someone who only watched from the sidelines as you were being attacked. Did he only wait because his beloved housewarden didn't move yet? How typical.

“Tell him thanks for me.” The two of them shuffle their feet while exchanging glances at your freezing cold tone. 

"Don't mind us, prefect." Deuce elbows Ace, causing the red head to click his tongue and glare back. "Sorry for bothering you like this–we'll get going now!"

The two actually leave without more fuss, leaving you to twirl the invitation in trepidation.

When you look down again, the flowy calligraphy has been smudged by your fingers, ink blooming on your skin like blood.

–

"What does one wear to a tea party, Sam?" 

The question slips out before you know it, making the store keeper turn around and raise an eyebrow at you.

"And why is our little imp curious?" He teases. At your unamused face, his face splits into a garish grin.

"Perhaps you should ask Professor Crewel. After all, he does have quite the fashion sense." Sam strokes his chin in thought. "While we do have some outfits here, it might be best to get advice from someone who has been to these kinds of events."

And so, you find yourself standing in front of an indifferent Divus Crewel, who takes one look at you and takes another drag from his fashionable cigarette holder. He continues to shuffle through papers, all the while shaking his head.

“I should’ve known Sam would be the one to send you.” His voice sounds annoyed, yet carries no weight of anger. Much like how his bark is worse than his bite, Crewel isn’t one to heartlessly turn you away. “A tea party, you said?”

“Sam recommended that I go to you since you have more experience in this sort of thing.” Crewel does another critical once over of you, no doubt estimating your measurements for the look he’s thinking of. As expected of a former Pomefiore housewarden. He seems to already have an idea of what outfit would be best.

“I’ll help you, but you’re running some errands for me first, pup.” 

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the alchemy professor. Now you’re stuck picking out ingredients in the botanical garden while you’re waiting for him to get the materials together for your outfit. 

Of all the botanical zones, it just had to be the tropical zone. The harsh artificial lights shine down as you lean down to pick herbs. While the temperature is bearable, you don't know how much more sweat your outfit can take before it gets soaked completely. The humidity is choking, and you feel dizzy from both the moisture and heat clouding your senses.

“Prefect?” 

You look up wearily from basil plants to see Cater Diamond in his labwear, with a face that mirrors your stunned expression.

Give me a break. Immediately, your awkward customer service smile falls in place. First her Majesty, then Tweedle Dee and Dum, and now the March Hare? But Cater knows how to read the room. Maybe he'll know to let it go–

Your hopes are dashed as he immediately bounces up to you with a grin. “Didn't think I'd run into ya like this. Whatcha doing here?”

“Er, Crewel wanted my help with getting him ingredients…” This conversation was quickly swerving into awkward territory. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, you know…” Cater chuckles sheepishly, “I got assigned to water the plants…”

You take notice of the steel watering can in his gloved hands, then the long green hose by his boots. “Ah.” 

“Guess that means we’ll be working together!” He chirps cheerfully and you cringe. Seven, anything but that! You quickly turn back to your basket and begin to pick up the pace in harvesting the basil. The quicker you finish, the faster you can get out of this deathly awkward situation.

“By the way, Acey and Deucey wouldn’t stop chatting about you accepting our invitation!” You flinch as Cater idles up next to you, using the hose to spray a generous amount of water over the patch of herbs. “It was pretty cute to see, y’know.”

“R-really?”

"Trey was also glad too. He and Riddle have been planning to make it the best tea party ever," he mock emphasizes. "They've been running the dorm ragged over the party deets. Cay Cay's been so busy with planning stuff!"

"That's not really necessary…" A feeling of guilt worms into your guts for a moment. You squash it. What Riddle and the others do is none of your business and no obligation of yours. 

"Right? That's what I said too!" Is he implying that you're the reason there's more work than usual? How shameless is he?

After a good minute of dead silence, Cater pipes up again.

"Sooo, prefect, whatcha been up to lately?"

You can't take it anymore. 

“Why are you talking like I have a gun to your head?” 

Ever since he made his presence known, he's adopted a high pitched cheery tone that grates on your ears. It was akin to a customer service voice, but you know Cater. That's his influencer speak.

Cater's chipper smile vanishes instantly.

"Whaaaat?!" You catch a glimpse of his snaggle tooth in his exclamation. He quickly turns and moves to water a patch of sprouts further away, "Like, what are you even talking about? You know ol' Cay Cay's just trying to lighten the mood!"

More like he's desperately trying to appeal to you. He knows which attitude will get him the most views, and the best expressions to rake in likes and comments. You often thought that trait was endearing in its own way when you saw him as a fictional character. Now that you're dealing with him as a human being, it just pisses you off to no end. How could he? You know Cater isn't known for his genuineness but….you thought he would at least act his usual aloof casual self. Then you would know that it wouldn't matter if you offended him.

The straw basket is finally filled with everything Crewel asked you for. It's with dirtied skin and sore muscles that you turn towards the exit without sparing Cater a glance.

"If you say so, Diamond." You hurl the words like a molotov cocktail, and it's very effective. Cater's eyebrows twitch and his hands clench around the watering can. It's one thing to call him by his last name, it's another to completely blow off the nickname he blatantly shoves onto you. "See you later at the party."

“Wait, wait, time out for a second!! Can you at least unblock me on Magicam?” The last sentence makes you freeze in your tracks.

When you turn around, Cater’s somehow still smiling that insincere smile of his. Your neck prickles with dread.

You trust me now, right? His crinkled lime green eyes gleam.

You're not fooled. He is desperate to appeal to you not from genuine adoration, but rather guilty obligation. Although he tried to scrub it from his Magicam profile, you saw the blurry reels and pictures of you fleeing for your life. The detailed descriptions underneath. Each one boasting deliberate timestamps meant for best exposure. He put a bounty on your head with his own hands.

Two can play at that game.

"Block you? I don't have a Magicam account," is your dry response. Cater continues to smile as his eyes close.

"Really? I swear that it was you…" His lips jut out in an insincere pout, tilting his head. You shrug apathetically, hoping the conversation runs itself dead.

"Well, if you do make one, hit me up okay?" Cater calls out after your retreating back.

Once you're in the school corridors and catching your breath, you dig your phone out with shaky hands and pull up Magicam.

Hitting delete account has never felt more relieving.

–

The outfit, in your quiet opinion, was not worth the mental gymnastics you had to do in the botanical garden. Not that you were going to say anything to the very teacher who has been known to treat his students like barking dogs.

"It should fit just fine," Crewel smooths out the crinkles in the fabric before handing it to you. "Go on now. Try it on."

A simple white with a red ribbon bow tie and black slacks. It was rather simple, which is just fine. You didn't need or want to stand out in this party. But you certainly didn't want to end up looking like a slob either. This suit your needs quite nicely.

Smoothing down your shirt, you give a spin as Crewel looks on unimpressed. He waves you off with a dry "Don't expect me to do any more favors for you, pup." You mischievously grin and wave him goodbye as you trot off with your clothes in tow.

The last rays of the sun sets the hallway ablaze with orange and yellow hues. You hum as you take the familiar pathway back to Ramshackle. With everything crazy that’s been going on lately, it gets too easy to be swept up in the moment. As you watch the shadows flicker between the stone pillars, you slow down to observe the scenery for a bit.

The sunset catches a glint and reflects bright white for a moment. You blink and it’s gone when you focus. You stop, confused at the intrusion. 

A loud click echoes behind you, but when you whip around, there’s nothing but the empty hallways.

You stand for a moment in place, waiting and listening apprehensively. Nothing else happens, and it’s with cautious paranoia that you turn around and start speed walking.

iiii. Funeral

It would be impolite to show up to a party without something.

But now as you're standing before the mirror leading to Heartslabyul, you're having second thoughts.

What if it isn't good? You glance down at your box containing the simple custard puddings you were able to make just last night. You didn't really have the skills to make complicated sweets and the puddings only took three ingredients. And your outfit, what if it isn't up to the Queen of Hearts' rules–

"C'mon, [First]! Or else the food will be gone by the time we get there!"

You breathe out a giggle. "I don't think anyone can beat you on your eating speed, Grim."

"You don't know that!" He hops up and down impatiently, waiting for you to adjust the box in your hands.

Right, who cares about any of that?

You follow your companion through the warped glass.

The fresh spring breeze graces you first, then the refreshing scent of flora, and finally, the warmth of the sun on your skin. When you open your eyes, the stretch of viridian green pastures and vibrant flowers greets you. The land of Heartslabyul is as picturesque as you remembered on screen. It feels unreal.

And waiting for you at the end of the path is the very first dorm you've befriended.

"Weird. Where's everyone at?" Grim grumbles, ears twitching in irritation.

The entrance is completely devoid of any human presence. You don’t sense anyone in the building either, which is completely strange. 

Grim's right. Where is everyone? For an incoming tea party, wouldn’t there be various students rushing in and out for the preparations?

“Perhaps they’re in the maze?” You glance warily over to the tall hedges that bloom with beautiful roses. “Should we wait?”

“Ugh, that’s so rude of ‘em to keep us hangin’ though! I say we go lookin’ for them. Who knows how long we gotta stand out here!” Grim shakes his head, distraught at the thought of having to wait for his food. "Let's go to the kitchen!"

"You just want to see if you can eat something." You tut at Grim's scheming face. 

"Mya, so what?!" He yowls. "I'm going and you can't stop me!"

"Grim, wait–" You call anxiously, but your companion is already scampering off into the dorm. You're left with no choice but to take a deep steadying breath and press on. 

But the kitchen room is also empty when the two of you pop in. However, it seems like it was used recently, if not for the smell, then the sight of various dishes laid out on the counter would have clued you in. You sneakily compare your puddings to the spread laid out before you and wonder again if it isn't too late to put them away in a dark corner.

"What do you have there, prefect?" A low voice breathes in your ear. 

You and Grim shriek in tandem, with you almost fumbling and dropping your box and Grim’s signature sharp nails digging into your shins.

The looming presence behind you is revealed to be Trey Clover, who has an apologetic face after spooking the two of you. At least he is conscientious. 

"My bad, my bad," he chuckles, "I should've been more obvious about my arrival." He places a steady hovering hand behind your back. Just barely touching, yet close enough to feel its heat. Embarrassingly, the feeling is soothing enough that you can't find it in yourself to pull away.

"Sheesh, for real! You took some of my life with that, y'know Trey!" Grim hisses, detaching his claws from your poor legs. Trey only laughs and ruffles his head.

"I’m sorry about that Grim. Anyway, you guys came just in time," Trey begins to transfer the dishes onto a wheeled cart. "Food just needs to be carried out and the tea party can begin—but you have something, don't you?"

Regret seeps in when you think of your sad puddings next to all these gorgeous pastries and appetizers. 

“Uhm, I don’t think it’s really needed since you got all this,” you laugh sheepishly as your hands automatically hide the box behind your back.

“No way.” Trey’s smile is warm but firm. When he gently guides your hands to give up the box, you can’t find it in yourself to protest. “It can’t be that bad, since you made it.”

You're struck silent, and Trey immediately takes advantage of your state to press his hand to your back to usher you forward. His fingertips graze your side, and for a second, you swear his lips quirk into a smirk.

You follow alongside Trey as he pushes the cart out through the door.

"By the way, I'm happy to hear you liked the lavender cookies." You look over to see the baker smile warmly. "I would've tried something with the candied violets I had, but I ran out just as I was making them." He sighs as he shakes his head.

Something with the way he's worded it makes it sound like there was more to the story, but you don't care enough to pry further. Trey's golden orbs slide to meet yours discreetly, and you realize he's waiting for you to respond. You murmur an apathetic response back, and he visibly droops.

It's a long, quiet walk through the rose maze.

It seems your arrival with Trey threw everyone off guard. You don't know why they look so alarmed: the venue looks absolutely resplendent. Colorful lanterns dot the tree lines, swinging back and forth cheerily with brightly colored flags. The long table is draped with fine cloth embroidered with intricate lace patterns. There's not a single wrinkle to be seen in the fabric. And the rose bushes, blooming with both red and white roses, are pruned cleanly, not a leaf or branch out of place.

It is a tea party fit for the Queen of Hearts.

"And the guest of honor is finally here!" Easygoing as ever, Cater calls out jauntily to you both. He seems to be the only one not visibly panicking. "Trey, what took ya so long?"

"Had to get the dishes here, you know." He shoots a knowing glare at Cater, who flinches with a sheepish smile. "Someone was supposed to help me, which would've made it a lot faster."

Ah. Cater giggles nervously while twirling his hair. Ace and Deuce exchange disbelieving looks before shaking their heads. 

“Welcome, prefect.” Riddle greets you with a stiff bow. "And Grim." He hastily adds, seeing your companion’s face twist sulkily. The action makes you smile, if only for a moment.

“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Yuu—” Deuce jabs an elbow sharply into Ace’s side, making him cough and sputter mid sentence, but the damage has already been done. Another awkward silence reigns as everyone’s fearful faces are directed at you, trying to figure out how to best traverse the conversational minefield. 

“W-What Acey meant to say is–” Cater is cut off immediately.

"Uh, er, come to think of it, what's your actual name?" Deuce is the one who pushes forward despite everyone else’s horrified looks. As if he had uttered a profane exclamation.

"My…name?" You echo back. 

Right. Since all they knew was the puppet, they didn't know your true name. Heavy silence hovers in the air, even Grim was looking at you in anticipation.

"My name is…" Something chokes your throat. Reluctance? Or fear? 

"[First]. [First] [Last]."

They mutter it among themselves, tasting the syllables and weaving the rhythms of the letters. How strange. With sugar coated lips, their voices ring like church bells for prayer. You're born anew, for the way they look at you is enough to make your heart soar for several fleeting seconds. 

For a brief moment, you could believe that you were with your Heartslabyul again.

The tea party begins like a baby animal: slow, unsure, and always in danger of stumbling to the ground. But it’s Heartslabyul, and who else would know how to best host a party for its guests?

By the time the tea is being poured into your cups, a steady conversation has started naturally flowing between all of you.

“Is there something the matter?” Riddle asks for the nth time as he worriedly gazes at the way your eyes stray to the hedges and whimsical decorations beyond the table.

"Oh uhm…” You hesitate, still not meeting Riddle’s worried face. “Why are the roses both red and white? I thought one of your rules is that tea parties always have white roses." 

Riddle exchanges a look with Trey at your question. 

"That is true, [First], however…" He pauses, before continuing with a determined look. "Red and white roses are customary for parties celebrating with new friends."

“New…friends?” Your hand is frozen at your teacup.

Something fiercely warm fills your chest. There's cautious hope glimmering in Riddle and Trey's eyes. That wasn’t fair. How could they say something like that and not expect you to react? 

The party ends on a light note unlike its stiff beginning. The soldiers gather to see you and Grim off, but once Grim scampers off with his leftovers in paw, her Majesty moves to your side.

“Prefect–no, [First], would you come again?” He asks. His hands are trembling, tugging at your sleeve timidly like a young child again. “F-For an Unbirthday party, of course!”

It’s a request that’s not selfish, you note. Her Majesty’s card soldiers look on expectantly behind their monarch, and it takes everything within you to not collapse. 

“Of course. I can’t wait for it already.”

Your heart weighs heavy. They do not know that the promise is an empty white lie. Though you cherish them, you do not wish to act the role of a doll whose purpose is to play house. 

When they looked at you with those pleading eyes, who did they see? 

Yuu, the puppet they adored for its safe default responses and supportive words?

Or you, the player who has their own flaws and biased personality?

It's okay, you reason.

They won't be able to tell the difference between clay and flesh.

v. Burial

You have a hunch about Yuu.

Only a guess based on many hypotheticals, but better than nothing.

If the puppet stopped working when you arrived, then shouldn't it go without saying that if you left this world, that it would return back to life?

The wooden door creaks open, stirring up dust and sending it flying into the air. You cough and sneeze, waving your hand to disperse the irritant. Serves you right. After all, you refused to step into this room since Yuu's body was hauled here. Didn't even dare to come clean the room. The dust settles and you can finally make out the puppet's silhouette from the waning light rays of the window.

It still adorns its proper NRC uniform, wrinkled in the spots where you had lifted it. It hasn't moved at all from its sprawled pose on the sofa. You remember the dread at realizing the only fitting school uniform you could possibly wear was on this puppet. It only cemented your resolve to break away from the puppet's image. Even if you had to resort to clearing out ancient closets and haggling with faculty, you'd rather take the raggedy shawls and worn flannel over the crisp blazer and button up the puppet wore. 

Its skin has become ashen gray, drained of any life. Old joints creaked in agony when you adjusted it to a sitting position for better examination. For a while, the both of you stare at each other.

Despair tugs at your mind. How long will you be trapped in this world? Has the Headmaster even done anything to help you get home? You snort. He couldn’t even bother doing anything when it was just the vessel. Why would that change now? 

Can you hear me?

The voice, so quiet yet clear, makes you whip your head around. No one's in the room. Are you finally going crazy?

You can hear me, right?

Is one of the ghosts playing a prank on you? You can't pinpoint the source of the voice at all.

I'm here–look!

With dread and fear pooling in your heart, your head turns slowly to meet the doll's eyes; whose pupils are now fixated on you.

The urge to scream and push away the doll is overwhelming. But in a world where the supernatural is natural, you suppose that dolls that can speak are the least impossible thing out there.

I can help you find your way home.

You swallow thickly. Pursing your lips, your grip on its arms tightens as you lean in. Something stirs, and it’s crazy, but you swear it hums in pleasure.

Listen to what I say carefully…

-

Decorations? Check. Refreshments? Check.

Outfits? Check.

So why does it feel like there's something missing?

"What's wrong, Riddle?" He turns to see Trey's concerned face. He gives an awkward smile back.

"I'm not quite sure, but something feels amiss." He explains, rubbing his neck. It's obvious enough to make him feel the familiar slivers of irritation slither through him. 

He tries to will it away. It's a good day, and there was nothing to be angry about. The player–no, [First]–had decided to give them a chance and agreed to come over to celebrate an Unbirthday party with them. Ace and Deuce are behaving as good, law-abiding card soldiers should be. The roses were saturated with dripping red, the dormouse had its nose smeared with jam–so what is this itch that won't go away?

"We can do a double check of everything again," Trey offers gently. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Riddle shakes his head. “It’s almost time for them to arrive. I will not have them waiting on something that isn’t even a problem.”

“Housewarden~!” Speak of the devil. He turns with a frown at Ace’s loud shout, but it fades to a small smile when he sees you trailing after Ace.

"Hello, Riddle." You smile warmly at him, and his cheeks flush pink.

Wait. He stops. Have you ever called his name? He doesn’t have time to ponder this before he’s interrupted by Trey and Cater bringing in the food.

When everyone is seated and the party is in swing, he notices something.

“Is the food not to your liking, [First]?” He inquires as politely as possible, softening his tone to make it sound less accusatory.

You fluster, waving a hand. “Not at all. I’m just not that hungry right now.”

He decides to leave it, because it’s not as if it’s wrong, per se, if the guest wasn’t eating. He recalls Ace’s previous words to him.

“Housewarden, you really should loosen up a bit! Otherwise you’re gonna end up being a killjoy!”

He may be many things, but he is not a killjoy! Just because he was particular about certain things doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to let go.

But something feels off.

Then he realizes that while the conversation is flowing as usual, you are hardly speaking at all. You only speak when directly spoken to, and even then, it’s short, clipped responses.

He watches incredulously as you pour yourself a cup of tea and then drink it.

The golden scepter materializes in his hand as easily as breathing.

Everyone else reacts explosively, looking alarmed at the scene unfolding. Meanwhile, you merely stare blankly at the end of the scepter nearly several inches from your nose.

"Riddle, hold the phone, what are you doing?!" He barely hears Cater's frantic voice to his left. He's too focused on the way that…that thing is not reacting at all. 

"You. Where is [First]?"

It's silent for a moment, and then a disturbing crooked grin breaks out from its poker face. It starts cackling loudly and it makes his blood start boiling. 

"Start speaking or it's off with your head!" He screeches, scepter shaking uncontrollably in his hands.

"Boo, I was hoping you guys were stupid enough to fall for it.” The thing taunts, leaning back in their chair. 

Red fills his vision. How dare this thing use your visage and breath such vile words? Before he could register it, his arm swipes across. By the time his eyes clear and his breathing steadies, he's staring at a decapitated body that is mangled beyond repair. 

It takes another moment to realize he is not the only one who has raised their magical pen.

Trey is at his right, golden eyes dark as Riddle realizes he positioned himself to shield him. Cater mirrors Trey, but his arms are visibly shaking and his eyes keep switching from him to the broken body on the trimmed lawn. Ace and Deuce had positioned themselves to the backside, but they too, barely seem to be holding themselves together, clenched fists at the ready for physical blows.

“What…” he breathes, “is going on?”

The only answer he gets is the wind whistling through the grass blades.

He collapses to his knees as he fumbles with a body that has been torn asunder, but instead of flesh and bones, he only finds clay and chipped resin.

“What have we done?”

[lust4liyah]

*hides behind hands* I KNOW HOW LONG ITS BEEN YALL I AM SOO SORRY :(((( uni has been kicking my ass for a while but im back and still deeply in L word with miguel!!! here's an apology 4 being gone 4 SO LONG, a lot of y'all rlly wanted body worship so here that is!

not proofread! contains; chubby! fem! reader, insecure thoughts, body image, unprotected sex, praise, public sex, body worship, mirror sex, creampie, sir kink if u squint, rlly soft sex, WAY longer than it needed it to be.

it happens during your off day. you're out shopping with miguel at the mall, dragging him here and there to get cute little outfits and other things miguel swears you don't need. you're at the end of your list of stores, and quite frankly the store miguel's been looking forward to the most, the lingerie store.

you're excited to try on all the cute pieces you see! you're grabbing anything that catches your eyes and miguel looks alive for once as he watches you do so, even going so far as to recommend a few sets.

you take all the sets you're interested in, thank the pretty lady lazily watching over the dressing rooms, and head inside. you were excited at first, you really were. who doesn't love to try on new clothes? but once you get in one of the farther dressing rooms to try on the cute lace sets miguel had suggested, your confidence is shot.

you turn in the mirror, uncomfortable with what you see in the reflection. you're chubby, that was a fact that you wore proudly. you've always loved your body, never thought it was something you needed to change or be ashamed of, until now. you feel gross in this set, the lace not fitting right and not flattering your curves the way you hoped. you try on the next few sets, feeling worse and worse each time.

you're on the verge of tears when you try on the last set, a pretty red mesh one with a bow right between your breasts. you look at yourself and feel nothing but disgust, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you frustratedly tug at the material around your body. you hated feeling like this, like your body was less than it was, but gosh, you couldn't help it.

maybe it was the way your flesh peeked from the fabric, maybe it was the way your rolls showed themselves on the sides of the set, but either way, you hated what you were looking at. you hated it.

a knock on the dressing room door has you jolting in surprise, whipping your head around to stare wide-eyed at the closed door. "honey?" miguel's deep voice calls from the other side. you don't respond, and miguel, concerned by your lack of response, knocks once again.

"you in there, cariño? it's been a while, is everything alright?" miguel asks. when he doesn't receive an answer again, he starts to push the door open. "is it okay if i step in? i wanted to see how you looked". you can hear the smile in his voice and you panicked. god, you hated the mall sometimes. the doors don't close properly ever.

"wait!" you say, voice shaky. you clear your throat and try again, "don't come in." you're a mess right now and the last thing you want is for miguel to see you like this. "why not?" miguel says, clearly confused. his hand rests against the door as he respects your wishes and waits for your reply,

"is everything okay, honey? did you rip that one with the strings?" he lets out a deep chuckle. "that one looked like it would be difficult to put on anyway, mama. let's just leave it there and run out, yeah?" he attempts to joke and it pull a quiet giggle out of your mouth.

"no— it's not that. i'm okay, baby, really. i just…" you trail off and glance at the mirror again, the insecurities you're feeling rushing back at full force, "i don't like it". you're not lying, you don't like any of the sets. they made you feel like shit.

"the strings?" miguel asks dorkily and you smile sadly at the mirror. even when you felt horrible, he knew how to make you feel better. "no, baby, not the strings." you take a deep breath. "i just don't like the way i look in these sets, that's all." you finally conceded, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

you knew miguel was persistent, though, and you wouldn't be surprised if he tried to get you to tell him exactly why you didn't like how you looked.

you didn't hear anything for a few moments and you started to hope that miguel had given up and left, but then, you hear the door handle shake and watched it twisting open in a panic. "no, wait! miguel—"

the door swings open, miguel's big body blocking the entrance. your hand falters at the failed attempt to keep the door closed and you shamefully take a step back, turning your body away from him and crossing your arms over your chest.

"cariño", miguel steps in and closes the door behind him. he walks closer and gently grasps your hips, moving you so that your back is facing the mirror and your front is pressed up against his body. "tell me what's wrong, why are those beautiful eyes of yours crying, hm?" his large hands move up your back, resting at the base of your neck and stroking the nape.

"do you not like the color? the patterns?" his eyes rake over your body. "because i think they're all very pretty".

you bite the inside of your cheek and avert your gaze, not wanting to face him. "nothing at all like that, they're all beautiful". you admit. you can feel his eyes boring into the top of your head, waiting patiently for a real answer, but you stay quiet.

"then, enlighten me for a moment", miguel starts, taking one of his hands from the back of your neck and using it to tilt your chin up. "what is it about these outfits that you don't like?"

"because, miguel," you huff out and push at his chest lightly. "they don't look good on me, okay? they just make me feel… not good. like i'm— ugh, like they just don't look good on my body." you admit, a tear falling down your face.

the sight of it breaks miguel's heart and he wipes it away with his thumb. "oh, my love," he says. he kisses your cheek. "what makes you think they don't look good on you, mama?"

"they just… don't. i'm not saying they aren't cute, they're just not for my body, i guess". you shrug and try to turn away from him again, but miguel doesn't let you.

"how could you say that about such a gorgeous body, hm?" he says, hands slowly making their way down your body. "you look stunning, cariño. borderline irresistible, and you don't like them?" miguel clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disbelief. "you have to be crazy".

you scoff, rolling your eyes. "yeah, right." you make eye contact with him and miguel's heart breaks with how broken you look. "how could you love a body like mine? it's just so— i don't know, not sexy".

you move to turn around and slip the lingerie off your body, but miguel grips your hips again, holding you in place. "look at me", he says. his voice is hard and demanding and you shiver under his grasp. "i want you to see what i see, honey girl, don't push me away." he murmurs and slowly guides your body to turn around.

"keep your eyes on the mirror, understand?" miguel says softly. you nod and keep your eyes trained on the reflection, watching him slowly caress your sides. "good girl." miguel compliments. you can't help the shiver that runs through your body at his words and his smirk widens. he loves having this effect on you.

he slowly moves his hands up and down your sides, taking his time in tracing your curves. "see that, baby?" he says and cups your breasts. "this beautiful, soft body of yours. it's fucking perfect." he squeezes them and leans down to suck a kiss into your neck. "it's made just for me." he murmurs against the skin.

you squirm in his grasp but don't take your eyes off the mirror. miguel pulls away and gives you a stern look, "are you gonna watch or do i have to make you?" he asks. he raises an eyebrow when you don't reply, and you whimper.

"n—no, sir." you stutter out. you're turned on, the feeling of his hands all over you and his dirty words not helping the growing arousal between your legs. miguel nods and returns to touching your body. he slips his hands around your waist, squeezing your love handles before bringing his hands down to cup the bottom of your tummy. he massages the flesh and sucks another hickey onto your neck.

"all of you is breathtaking, my love". he says and moves one of his hands back to the front of your body. "this tummy", he groans, one of his hands moving to squeeze the flesh of your sides. "these curves", his hand moves again, gripping the meaty flesh of your thighs and lifting the leg that isn't on the floor. "these gorgeous fucking thighs." he sighs, shuddering in pleasure as he practically gropes you.

"all of it is gorgeous, 'n' all of it is mine. can't have you talking down on what's mine, can i?" he smirks at you through the mirror. "it's just not right, honey girl."

"no, sir, i'm sorry." you whisper out. miguel smiles sweetly at you through the mirror, leaning down and pressing chaste kisses against your neck. "my sweet girl, there's nothing to apologize for. i know you get lost in that little head of yours". he says, his hands moving back up to squeeze at your breasts. "how can you not think of the way i feel about you, though? i love this body. i'm obsessed with it. would stay home 'n' play with all day if you'd let me, you know i could do it".

you did know. miguel didn't have any problems spending the whole day worshipping your body, playing with it until you were a mess, begging for him to fuck you. his favorite pastime, if he had one, would be spending the whole day in bed, making you cum on his fingers and his tongue. he's done it before, and he'd do it again if you asked.

"m'sorry, miguel." you whimper, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. you didn't know what else to say, all the praises and kind words were getting to you. you can't remember the last time someone made you feel as good as he does.

"don't apologize, baby." miguel murmurs and kisses the side of your head. "you don't have to apologize, jus' let me make you feel better, hm?" he squeezes your breast again, tweaking a nipple and grinning at the small moan that falls from your lips.

"i'll make sure all the nasty things in that head of yours go away, yeah?"

and that's how you ended up being pressed against the wall of the dressing room, miguel's hand over your mouth and his free hand groping every area of your body he can. tears of pleasure prick so prettily at your eyes and miguel revels in the fact that he's the one who caused it.

"this is what you should be crying about." miguel whispers, his lips right by your ear as he presses his hips further into you. he's relentless, his thick cock stretching you out so deliciously while he plays with your body. "should be cryin' about being fucked open on my cock, should be sobbing over how good you feel." he emphasizes his point with a hard thrust and his hands squeeze the flesh of your breasts.

"god, look at you, mi amor." miguel murmurs against your lips. "you look so fucking perfect like this, all fucked out on my cock. 'm so lucky." he presses a quick kiss to your lips and leans back up, a hand gripping your neck and his thumb stroking the underside of your jaw. he turns your face carefully to the mirror, holding you in place.

"watch me", he commands, his freehand moving down to rub tight circles around your clit. "watch me worship this perfect body. watch yourself get fucked open on my cock, and don't take your eyes off of us." his eyes are trained on the mirror, too, a dark lust swirling in them.

you nod, small whimpers and pants escaping your mouth as miguel takes his hand off your mouth. "m—miguel, baby." you whimper and throw your head back. "'m close, please, let me cum." miguel shakes his head and leans down to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. "not yet, baby," he whispers and bites the soft flesh.

"gotta see what i see, 'n' then, i'll let you cum. sound good, honey girl?" he smirks. you whine and shake your head, but you can't help but follow his command.

he's making it hard for you to keep your eyes on the mirror, the way his cock is thrusting into you and the way his thick fingers are playing with your clit have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"look, baby, watch how well you're taking my cock. so perfect, 'n' all mine. look at that beautiful body of yours, taking me so well." miguel groans and kisses along the back of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"that's it, baby. 's what i see when i look at you." he says. he brings his free hand up to rest against your cheek, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. "see how beautiful you look? see how sexy you are? fuck, i can't even put it into words, honey. you're perfect. every single thing about you."

your eyes start to roll into the back of your head again and miguel's hand moves back down to your pussy. "keep your eyes on me, understand? 'm not letting you cum 'till you do." he grunts and slows his thrusts, not wanting this to end just yet.

"please, miguel, i need—"

"i know what you need, baby. i know this body." he whispers and strokes his thumb across your cheek. "just a little longer, honey. you're doing so good." he praises. you do as he says, keeping your eyes on the both of you in the mirror.

you feel yourself starting to cry, and the tears are falling faster now. "that's it, baby." miguel encourages, his fingers starting to work faster against your clit. "there's that beautiful girl. see how stunning you look when you're taking my cock like the good girl you are?" he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, and the tenderness of the action has you breaking out into hushed sobs.

"fuck, miguel." you whine, his lips and his words and his hands making you feel like you're on cloud nine. "thank you, thank you s'much, love you— fuck! love you, love you, love you!" you cry, the feeling of his fingers and his cock driving you insane. you're so close, just one more push and you'd be gone.

"i know, honey. 'm right here. i love you too, you and this body. love every single part of it." he murmurs. his thrusts get harder and his fingers press impossibly deeper, the feeling pushing you over the edge.

"you can cum, honey girl, 'm right here." he says, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels you tighten around him.

you let yourself go, and the feeling of miguel's body surrounding yours and his words have you spiraling into a blissful orgasm. you cry out, slapping your hand over your mouth as your body twitches, and miguel moans lowly in your ear. "there you go, that's it, cariño." he coos. he pulls his hands away from your body and pulls your hips towards his, gripping the plush skin tightly.

he thrusts his hips harder into yours, chasing his own high. "so fucking good, honey, such a perfect body." he praises. he bites your neck and comes inside you, his cum filling your cunt as his hips still against yours. "perfect," he groans out. "all of it, perfect."

the two of you are breathing hard, the air around you feeling hot and humid. miguel's sweaty body is pressed against yours, his softening cock still inside you.

and when he kisses you again, helping you settle on the bench of the dressing room while he assures the worried employee outside that everything's fine, you're left with a new mindset.

you don't mind the lingerie sets that much, they're really pretty and yeah! they do look good on you, real good.

when miguel makes a move to slip the underwear off your body and press his tongue inside you, whispering praises and warnings of silence into your body, you don't have a problem with them anymore.

not at all.

okay wow yeah this one was crazy, i rlly rlly hope u all enjoyed this one bcus i tried my very VERY hardest to do the body worship requests justice! im so sorry 4 leaving yall for practically months on end w RADIO SILENCE but i hope u all can forgive me w this teehee

[munsons-melody]

putting the x in sixx

summary: you and eddie go to a party in LA where your old celebrity crush, nikki sixx, starts to hit on you

pairing: rockstar!boyfriend!Eddie x female!reader

cw: mentions/insinuates sex, mentions of alcohol, etc, established relationship w eddie, little smutty towards the end

recommended song: girls girls girls by mötley crüe

word count: 1.8k

a/n: i wrote this after i watched the dirt last night, also not proofread at all :)

requested? no

masterlist

part 2 can be found here

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

——

you looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring your new outfit... leopard print pants with a black corset top, your hair teased and hair sprayed to the gods, and your usual makeup, only with a little extra here and there

"hey babe we should probably get a move on cause-" eddie stopped in front of the bathroom door, giving you a look up and down and finishing with a wolf whistle

"jesus" he breathed out, leaning on the door, staring at your outfit causing a small blush to creep up on your face

"you like?" you asked sheepishly, already knowing his answer

you often didn't wear scandalous outfits like this, opting for the most basic t shirt, jeans, and your lived in reeboks that never got a day off but now that you and eddie were out of hawkins for the week as corroded coffin were playing shows at the sunset strip in LA, you figured you'd get less stares wearing an outfit like this

"i love" he purred, stalking closer before locking his lips with yours into a passionate kiss, his hands gently cradling your face as his tongue slipped into your mouth and your hands snaked up to his neck

he started trailing down your exposed neck, and you smiled, knowing what he wanted to do instead of heading to this party gareth heard about and was very persistent in everyone attending, hearing rumors of other rock gods showing up

"eds, as much as i know you'd rather stay here and do this, we really have to get going" you giggled, and he stopped kissing, leaning his head on your shoulder

"do we have to?" he mumbled, his voice vibrating into your chest

"gareth wants the whole band to go with just incase anyone cool happens, hey who knows maybe you'll run into mick mars or kirk hammett" you laughed

eddie moved his face to meet yours, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in, almost like he'd lose you if he let you go

"already checked, metallica is playing in ohio tonight so slim to none chance I'll see kirk" he said, leaning in for one last kiss before he unwillingly pulled away, walking over to his bag and slipping on a old cut up band shirt and fixing his studded belt

"eddie" you groaned, checking yourself one last time in the hotel mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged

"what" he replied with the same annoyed tone you had

"you ruined my lipstick" and he let out a small laugh

——

the car ride from the hotel to a massive mansion was fairly short, and you, along with the rest of corroded coffin, stumbled out of the car onto the driveway that you were sure could fit 10 of you and eddie's shared apartment

the music from the house was blasting and you wish you knew half these people, or whos house this even was but alas, you were just as clueless as the boys as you walked into the mansion

people were everywhere, you couldn't walk more than 2 feet without seeing a drink or bottle of alcohol, music was blaring, the lights were nice, adding to the ambience of a party

eddie grabbed your hand, lacing together your fingers as he motioned a "come on" and you followed, leaving jeff, dougie, and gareth to themselves

you and eddie walked to the giant kitchen, where you heard a voice yell "oh my god, are you eddie munson?" eddie immediately turned to where the voice came from, seeing tommy lee and nikki sixx leaning against a table, drinks in their hands

eddie looked at you with wide eyes, suppressing a giant smile which showed a mix of "oh my god they know who i am" and "oh my god they know who I am"

"go" you whispered, lightly nudging your boyfriend towards the two rockstars

he let go of your hand and headed towards them, and they greeted eddie like they were old friends even though they'd never met before in their lives

they immediately started into a conversation, you only heard bits and pieces but it was all shop talk about guitars solos, tour dates, etc.

you took this time to get a drink, walking deeper into the kitchen

you saw an opened pack of beers, and grabbed one out, opening it on the side of the counter (a helpful trick eddie taught you a few years back), and took a few sips, admiring the amount of people at this party and listening to the songs that were playing in the background, barely heard over the amount of people talking

you went to take another sip when you felt a presence next to you, and you look to your left to see none other than nikki sixx

dumbfounded that your old celebrity crush of a few years was standing next to you, you stuttered out a hello and he smiled

"y/n... right?" he asked and you nodded, a taken aback and confused look writing onto your face as he held his hand out to shake yours

"eddie told tommy and i about you just now, thought i'd come say hello" he said with a smile, leaning against the counter and inched closer

"well hello," you said, however, your voice moved faster than your brain processed, and it came out more flirtatious than you intended

maybe it was the subconscious part of your brain that was excited the guy you fantasized about before you met your boyfriend was in front of you, but now all you could think of now was showing him you weren't interested and that eddie was all you cared about

"so eddie's a pretty cool guy.." he said and you looked over at eddie who was engaged deep in a conversation with tommy, a drink in both their hands

you looked back at nikki who took a swig out of a jack daniels bottle he held in his left hand

"yeah, he's so cool i've been with him almost 4 years" you joked, awkwardly taking a sip from your beer

"you ever think about expanding your horizons?" he asked, the flirtiness in his voice increasing

"expanding to what?" you laughed, brushing off the awkwardness and hoping your heart rate would slow down

"to the room upstairs, there's a perfect little balcony overlooking the beach where no one can hear us...." he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck

"or see us... me fucking you senseless, my grip on your waist as my thick cock pumping in your tight little pussy, making you scream my name" he finished, leaving a hot, open mouth kiss on your neck under your ear

you felt a few shivers go down your spine, along with heat traveling to your core as a blush spread across your cheeks as you turned to face him

if this was a few years ago, before you met eddie, you wouldn't care that you'd be just another girl in the millions of his roster, you'd be halfway naked in the kitchen on your knees by now

but it wasn't a few years ago, this was now and even though you had the one man you had the biggest crush on literally beginning to have sex with you, but you also was dating someone you had an even bigger crush on

"i- i can't" you stuttered out, looking up at eddie and moving alway from the grip he had around your waist

it was like eddie could read your mind cause he turned around to see you with nikki, and him and tommy came sauntering over

eddie immediate wrapped an arm around you, pressing against your back and pulling you close, causing nikki to stand up straighter next to tommy

"what were you two chatting about?" eddie asked with a smile and nikki shrugged

"not much, just getting to know one another" nikki said, sending you a wink

"holy shit you're mötley crüe" you heard jeff say as him, gareth, and dougie walked up to tommy and nikki

"well half, you guys must be the rest of corroded coffin, right?" tommy asked, extending his hand to fist bump the boys and they all nodded excitedly

"hey while we're all here, let's talk tour dates, we've seen a show or two, and we need an opener" tommy said, extending an arm around nikki and gareth, walking off to where there was an opening on one of the couches, leaving you and eddie by yourselves in the kitchen

you turned around to look at his face, gently holding it with your hand as his arms wrapped around your waist

you kissed him gently and he kissed back, eventually pulling away with a smile

"uh, i just wanted to tell you, nikki hit on me... just now... when you were talking to tommy..." you told him

"oh wow..." he said, trailing off, looking over at nikki then back at you

"well, they always say don't leave your girlfriend alone around motley crue... i guess that actually is true" he chuckled

"yeah, but... he did tell me about this private room upstairs, incase you feel a little jealous and want to take it out on me" your voice again travelled faster than your brain as eddie's eyes darker, a smirk crawling up his face over his lips

"well what did he say exactly?" eddie asked, pulling you in closer and slowly moving his hand down your lower back

"something about screaming his name while he's fucking my tight little pussy-" you cut yourself off, kissing eddie

he pulled away, your foreheads touching

"did he get you all worked up? huh pretty girl?" he asked, staring to move his hips against yours and you whimpered out a yes when he suddenly stopped his movements

"i can't have you hot and horny for some other guy now can we? i guess i have to show you who can make you feel really good not some doped up rockstar who can’t please you the way i can..." he said again

you just nodded at him, staring, feeling like if you take your eyes off him, you wouldn’t get your release

“let’s take this upstairs, shall we?” he asked, extending one hand to yours and his other to one of the bottles of alcohol sitting on the counter opposite of him

you started to head upstairs when mick mars walked up to the two of you, stopping your path upstairs

“hey eddie, right? nikki was telling me all about you!” he said enthusiastically

“later mars, i gotta please my girl” eddie said in a rush, and the two of you ran upstairs to the bedroom

fin.