#Look I’m right about this this is Fascinating

[zephyrchama]

(Based on that one scene from B99)

“Lucifer, your wrist looks kind of funny.”

All eyes turned to the Avatar of Pride when Leviathan pointed this out. They were supposed to be organizing the house library, but it was a long and boring task. One that everyone wanted to finish quickly, yet nobody could find the motivation to make any real progress.

“Oh no! What happened?” Asmodeus leaned over a table to try and steal a peek. Lucifer’s wrist was, indeed, bent in an odd manner. He used his non-dominant hand to shuffle some papers in order.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Asmo!” Mammon jeered. “Back off, leave the guy alone.”

Lucifer ignored his brothers, icy gaze focused on the documents in hand. They were papers that had been misfiled and did not belong in the library. He reminded everyone in the room to “behave yourselves” before disappearing into his office.

Curious eyes followed him until he was truly out of sight. Then, the brothers exchanged fascinated looks. It’s not every day that Lucifer get injured.

“Alright, everybody bring it in. Huddle up.” Mammon ushered everyone to come close with a sweep of his hand. The boys reluctantly formed a loose circle.

“What are you up to now?” Belphegor asked with a sigh. “I want to finish this already.”

Mammon pretended not to hear as he whisper-shouted, “so, he wouldn’t say what happened, which can only mean one thing.”

”He’s in a fight club,” Beelzebub suggested.

“No. He did it doing something he’s embarrassed by.” Satan was quick to catch on to the truth.

Beelzebub followed up with, “oh. Could be a sports injury. I sprained my wrist playing fangol last year.”

“Really? I don’t remember that,” Belphegor said.

Leviathan asked, “you think Lucifer was playing fangol?”

A deep growl suddenly came from the doorway. There was no warning or indication that Lucifer would be back so quickly. Yet, the man in question had returned. His menacing quickly caused the group to shut up.

“I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from my office, but I don’t think it’s relevant to your jobs. The jobs you should all be doing right now. Get to work.”

The brothers scattered like roaches back to their respective corners of the library. All except for Satan, who Lucifer beckoned over with his finger. Satan hesitated at first, but it was better to go along with Lucifer when his mood was sour. The two stepped out for a minute, far enough away that no one else would overhear.

“What?” Satan was fed up with this conversation and it hadn’t even started.

“Do you want to know how I actually hurt my wrist?

Satan’s eyebrows flew up and he took several seconds to think about the question. What an odd offer. There was nothing for Lucifer to gain by telling him this, was there? Though, if he spent too long thinking Lucifer might change his mind and leave his little brother wondering what happened forever. With an oddly docile tone of voice, Satan responded, “...Yes.”

While Satan was busy wondering how to respond, Lucifer had taken out his DDD. He was scrolling through a menu in search of something. “I was hula hooping. Diavolo and I attend a class for fitness and for fun.”

“No way.” Satan's true thoughts leaked out. It was so dumb, it couldn’t be true.

Lucifer raised his phone to Satan’s eye level. The proof was there. ”I’ve mastered all the moves. The pizza toss. The tornado. The scorpion, the oopsie doodle.”

With each and every silly name, Lucifer swiped to a new photo on his phone. There he was, doing the pizza toss. Showing Diavolo how to do the scorpion. Performing a flawless oopsie doodle. Satan was stupefied, his mouth ajar.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because no one…” Lucifer selected all of the images. He tapped on a trash can in the corner of the screen. The images, every last one, disappeared. “…will ever believe you.”

“No!” Satan lunged for the phone in vain. “You sick, twisted, son of a-”

“You got your answer," Lucifer told him. "Get back to work."

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Ink Master

Player 001 x reader [SMUT]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Note: pretend you have tattoos, sick ones, whatever your heart desires. I’m heavily tattoos and wanna give love to my tattooed and wanting to be tattooed girlies. In this, i am describing a few of the tattoos I have, yes each one has a real meaning behind it. If so desired, I can explain the meaning behind each one.

You sat down with your friends eating dinner, laughing, and talking. The day seemed to have never happened, even Gi Hun and Young il were laughing so hard they were crying. You got a sudden heat flash. You ruled out the possibility of a cold as you had immediately. You stood to take your jacket off. Pulling the sleeves down one by one revealing tattoo filled arms. Young il looked you up and down before looking away quickly. A smile crept onto his face as butterflies erupted from his stomach.

“Wow, (y/n)” Dae ho exclaimed. “Your tattoos look so cool! I love that on your arm. Oh oh, and that steers head.”

“Thank you!” You beamed looking at the artwork that covered your skin. “I’ve been getting tattooed since i was 15 I’m 24 now, so about 9 years of work” you laugh, feeling the nostalgia of the tattoos.

“Do you have more?” Young il asks politely.

“I have a lot more, my back is done, rib cage, all the way up to my collar bone” you pulled your shirt collar down slightly to reveal bats that lined your collarbone, a betta fish on the left side.

“Wow, did they hurt?” Young il asks. “I mean, obviously they hurt, but you know, which one hurt the most?” he asks hating himself for how stupid he sounded.

“The one i have above my uhh lady part.” You giggled awkwardly. “That one was not comfortable at all, and i have both nipples pierced.” You admitted.

“You heard the signal for bed time. You retreated to your bed smiling at Young il as he lays in his bed next to yours. He wanted to see all of them, maybe hear a story or two, find out what they mean. Each and every one of them, no matter how bad the story may be.

He lays awake, he turned to you as he heard you rise up from your bed.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, i just have to pee really bad.”

“Yeah, so do I, mind if we walk together?” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too weird.

“Yeah of course, maybe if there are two of us they’ll let us in” you smile gently, taking his hand in yours, pulling you towards the door. You knocked softly the pink guy opened the window. “I need to use the restroom, and so does he.” You moved aside so they could see Young il, he smiled bashfully. The door opened immediately, allowing the two of you to leave the room. You walked towards the ladies room before you soon felt yourself get pulled into the men’s.

“Young il? What’re you doing?”

“I know this sounds really stupid, but can i see the rest of your tattoos?” He asked. You nodded and pulled him into a stall. He gently pulled your shirt up, then your sports bra, revealing tattoos all down your sternum and stomach, right rib cage covered with sharks, left side presented numerous scriptures.

You felt Young il's hands grasping your waist, pulling you closer to him as you stood in the bathroom stall, the need to get back to the room before other noticed you were gone for too long creating a sense of urgency. His eyes were fixed on your skin, ignoring everything, roaming over the intricate tattoos that covered your body. You could sense his obsession, his fascination with the artwork that adorned your body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "These tattoos... they're a part of you, aren't they?" His voice was laced with an unspoken question, as if he was trying to understand the story behind each design.

You nodded, feeling his fingers tracing the lines of a snake coiled around your right arm. "Each one has a story," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "A piece of me, etched into my skin forever." He turned you again, this time facing away from him. His hands roamed over the Japanese waves on your back and hips before moving lower to grip your ass cheeks firmly but gently.

Young il's lips brushed against the cherry blossom tree on your shoulder. He kissed each petal gently, reverently, as if worshiping the art itself. His hands slid down your back, following the curve of a dragon's tail that wrapped around your spine. Every touch sent shivers down your spine. He touched the angel on your right shoulder blade, following the angels hand as it reached for a skeleton that stood by the open mouth of the dragon, begging to be saved silently. He stared in awe at the scene before him.

"I want to explore every inch of you," he panted, turning you back around, his mouth moving to yours in a fierce kiss. You felt him harden against you, his desire fueled by his fixation on your tattoos.

As you broke apart for air, Young il gazed at the animal on your chest. "Tell me about this one," he asked, tracing the lions head with his finger. Before pulling your pants down to your ankles.

You smiled mischievously. "That one's for protection," you replied. "A fierce protector against those who would try to hurt me."

Young il's eyes flashed with intensity. "You don't need protection from me," he growled. "I'll never hurt you.”

His words ignited a fire within you, seemingly healing all the broken ends of you. You wrapped your arms around his his neck, drawing him closer as you as he moved to position you better on the stall door.. Young il continued to map out your tattoos with his fingers and lips.

Every touch was like a spark to dry kindling – it set you ablaze. The way he held onto them indicated how much control and trust had grown between the both of you in just moments.

As one hand still gripped, he entered slowly then harder deepening himself, stroking all areas sending moans escaping past your parted lips

"You feel so good," you gasped quietly in his ear.

"Your tattoos are driving me crazy," Young il replied hoarsely . He thrust deeper, trying feel you all over his body. He wished he could explain this feeling you were giving him. He was so clouded by lust, he was pretty sure he was in love with you.

Suddenly, as your muscles clenched wrapping tightly around him, it triggered something fierce within young il's thrust became faster pushing the both of you toward intense explosive peak which shredded apart any lingering rational thought leaving primal instinct only.

In that moment, all there existed were two people trying desperately not be left behind when the other reaches their climax first .

"Cum on me" you begged . No answer - only labored breathing intensifying into frantic almost sobbing sighs pushing desperately your shared goal, your final release.

And then youngil mouth came crashing onto the nape of your neck begging:

"Cum… cum on my cock please, let me drain you until you’re empty so you can do the same to me, please, (y/n)" he pleaded breathlessly.

His begging for your release was what made any remaining composure disintegrate, sending a shattering explosion through both of you, immense pleasure flowing through your veins as your body nearly crumbled from your orgasm.

His lingering moans and your whimpers as you both came from your highs.

“Young il, if i knew all i had to do was show you my tattoos to get you like this, id have done it way sooner.” You give a dry laugh.

“No, this was bound to happen anyways, you just gave me a reason to do it sooner.” He responded. He began to clean you up, then himself. He picked your shirt off of the floor along with your sports bra. You pulled up your pants, accepting the shirt and bra once you were upright.

“Let’s do this again sometime?” You ask.

“Oh definitely. Your pussy is to die for, literally. I’d die over it.” He said.

“I’d die for you” you counter romantically. “Sorry, i dont know wh-“

“(Y/n), if only you knew the things id do for you that are far worse than death itself.” He said before kissing you. When you got back into the room you got into your bed. Young il coming in behind you.

“Young il, what are you doing?” You ask, confused as to why he was in your bed.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t cuddle you after sex” he said pulling you into him. You smile softly, suddenly falling asleep. “good night, (y/n)” he kissed your lips softly. He was now sure he might genuinely love you, but he still wasn’t sure if lust was still clouding his sight that made him feel that way. He felt something inside him, but it was yet to be discovered. It was yet to be assessed, maybe as he slept, maybe during the next day, maybe if you were walking down the aisle to marry him, maybe when you were pregnant and birthing your children. Would they want to be tattooed like their mother? He didn’t mind that, he’d be proud of them, the same way he’s proud of you. He loved you.

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 18

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: angst | masterlist | 17 | 19 |

The sun was beginning to set over the Outer Banks as you and Noah arrived at the Chateau.

The house buzzed with laughter and familiar chaos, the kind of energy that only their group could bring. Noah seemed at ease as you approached, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. It was a small gesture, but it made you feel grounded.

“You ready for this?” You asked, giving him a teasing smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he chuckled. “Meeting your closest friends all at once feels like an ambush, but I’ll manage.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling him through the doorway. “They’ll love you. Just be yourself.”

Inside, the introductions began, and within minutes, Noah was doing what Noah did best—charming everyone.

“You’re into environmental work?” Pope asked, his eyes lighting up. “What’s your focus?”

“Mostly restoration and conservation efforts,” Noah said, leaning forward in his seat. “Right now, I’ve been looking at coastal erosion and its impact on wildlife ecosystems. It’s why I was in South America for a bit. But I’ve always been fascinated by sustainability and—”

“Okay, nerds,” JJ interrupted, grinning. “We’re at dinner, not a lecture hall.”

Noah laughed easily, unbothered by JJ’s teasing. “Fair. I’ll try to keep the nerd talk to a minimum.”

“Don’t worry,” Kie added, her voice light. “Pope and I will corner you later for all the details. It’s cool to meet someone who actually gives a damn about the planet.”

As the conversation shifted, Noah found himself bonding with JJ over surfing. They swapped stories, and JJ even suggested they hit the waves before the wedding. Cleo, sitting across from them, leaned back in her chair and studied Noah with a critical eye.

“I don’t trust it,” she declared.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, confused.

“Don’t trust what?” Sarah asked, her brow furrowed.

“Him.” Cleo pointed dramatically at Noah, though her tone was playful. “He’s too perfect. Smart, good-looking, and nice? There’s gotta be a catch.”

Noah laughed, shaking his head. “I promise, no catch. I’m just a guy.”

“He really is,” You chimed in, smiling at Cleo. “Told you guys you’d love him.”

Sarah nudged you, her voice lowering. “He’s even cuter in person. I’m so happy for you.”

You gave her a grateful smile. Everything was going well. Noah fit seamlessly into your world. Everyone liked him—everyone except for Rafe.

Rafe had been quiet most of the night, his standoffishness obvious to anyone paying attention. He leaned back in his chair, nursing a glass of bourbon, his gaze flicking to Noah every so often with thinly veiled annoyance.

When you reached over to brush something off Noah’s sleeve, Rafe’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“So, Noah,” Rafe started, his tone deceptively light. “You’re just… this nice all the time?”

The room quieted slightly, everyone picking up on the edge in his voice.

Noah glanced at him, his expression neutral. “I try to be myself, yeah.”

“Right.” Rafe let out a dry laugh, swirling his drink. “Seems a little too good to be true, doesn’t it? Nobody’s that nice. You sure it’s not all an act?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Cut it out.”

“What?” Rafe feigned innocence, looking around the table. “Just saying, it’s a little suspicious. No one’s that perfect. He’s gotta have a flaw, right?”

Noah tensed beside you, but his voice remained calm. “I don’t think being nice is a flaw.”

“Of course you don’t,” Rafe muttered under his breath.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you said firmly, your voice sharp. “Noah’s been nothing but kind to everyone here. Maybe you could try doing the same for once.”

The tension at the table was palpable, but Noah reached over and placed a calming hand on yours. “It’s fine,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “Really.”

“No, it’s not,” you insisted, glaring at Rafe again.

“He’s been nothing but rude, and I’m not going to sit here and let him ruin tonight.”

After dinner, you stepped outside for a moment of air. The night was quiet except for the soft chirp of crickets. You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring up at the stars, when you heard the sound of footsteps behind you.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” you said without turning around.

“Funny, I was going to say the same to you,” Rafe replied, leaning against the porch railing.

You sighed, finally looking at him. “What do you want, Rafe?

“I want to know why you keep pretending this thing with him is real,” he said, his voice low.

You stared at him, incredulous. “Are you serious right now? He’s my boyfriend.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re in love with him?” he challenged, stepping closer.

“I am in love with him,” you said firmly.

Rafe’s laugh was bitter, cutting. “Sure. That’s why you can’t even look at me without falling apart.”

Your chest tightened, but you stood your ground. “Please don’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice softening. “You know how I feel about you, Sunshine.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, your voice breaking slightly. “I love Noah. I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you get it.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes searching yours.“You can say it a hundred times, and I still won’t believe it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your words suffocating even as they left your lips. “You think this is love? Acting like a child every time I’m happy? Making me feel like I owe you something just because you can’t let go?”

Rafe flinched like you’d slapped him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. The sharp glint in his eyes dulled, replaced by something much heavier, much harder to look at.

“Can’t let go?” he repeated quietly, almost to himself. He let out a bitter laugh, his voice trembling on the edge of something vulnerable. “I let you go, Y/N. I let you walk away. I let you be with him because I thought… I thought you’d come back.”

Your chest tightened, but you kept your gaze steady. “That’s not fair, Rafe. I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed, stepping closer. “But you also didn’t tell me how to stop waiting, did you? You didn’t tell me how to stop hoping. You left, and I stayed here trying to figure out how to fix myself, because I thought maybe—just maybe—if I did, you’d see me differently.”

“Rafe…” you started, your voice softening despite yourself.

“But it was never enough,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I wasn’t enough. And now you’re with him, and he’s perfect, right? He doesn’t yell, doesn’t screw up. He’s everything I’ll never be.”

“Stop,” you said, your throat tight. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“I don’t need to,” Rafe shot back, his eyes burning with emotion. “I see the way you look at him, and I hate it. I hate him because he gets what I spent years trying to be good enough for.”

You clenched your fists at your sides, your resolve wavering. “This isn’t about you, Rafe. This is about me choosing what’s best for me.”

“And you think he’s best for you?” he asked, his voice trembling with disbelief. “Fine. Maybe he is. But don’t stand here and tell me what I feel isn’t love. Don’t act like I didn’t try.”

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze, the weight of his pain crashing over you like a wave. “You think this is easy for me?” you whispered. “I hate this. I hate that you’re hurting because of me.”

“Then don’t do it,” Rafe said, stepping closer. His voice was low, pleading. “You don’t have to hate me, Sunshine. Just… don’t push me away like this. Not like I mean nothing to you.”

Your breath caught at the use of the nickname, the softness in his tone slicing through your defenses. You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I’m trying to move on, Rafe. Why can’t you let me?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he admitted, his words raw and unfiltered. “Because moving on means letting go of the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. And I can’t. I won’t.”

You turned away, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping your tears at bay. “This isn’t fair, Rafe. To me, to Noah, to you. You’re not the only one hurting.”

“You’re right,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost defeated. “It’s not fair. But you’re the one who keeps telling me to be better, and I’m trying. I swear I’m trying. But every time I see you with him, it feels like I’m being ripped apart all over again.”

You turned back to him then, your eyes wet and glistening. “You’re hurting yourself, Rafe. You’re doing this to yourself.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to stop. Not when it’s you.”

Your heart shattered at the raw honesty in his words, but you steeled yourself, knowing you had to draw the line. “I chose Noah,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you believe me.”

Rafe looked at you, his eyes glassy, and for the first time, you saw just how deeply you had cut him. He nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I hear you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I just… I wish it was me.”

The air between them was thick and suffocating, and before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “I wish you’d tried harder before it was too late.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Rafe’s expression twisted, his pain now painted clearly across his face. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it again, swallowing hard.

You stepped back, the guilt clawing at your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, though it felt meaningless now.

Rafe turned away, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared out into the dark. “Yeah,” he said after a long pause, his voice hollow. “Me too.”

And just like that, the fragile thread between you snapped.

You stood frozen, the weight of your words lingering in the air as Rafe turned and walked away into the darkness. You wiped at your eyes hastily, willing yourself to stay composed. But as you turned back toward the house, you stopped short, your heart sinking.

Noah was standing near the doorway, half-hidden by the shadows, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the tail end of your conversation had carried to him like a whisper on the wind. His gaze lingered on you, searching your face for something—answers, reassurance, or maybe just the truth you couldn’t quite admit to yourself yet.

For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally smiled softly, as if to brush it off. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice as warm and steady as ever.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile in return. “Yeah,” you lied, walking toward him. But as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, your mind wandered—back to the look in Rafe’s eyes, to the pain you couldn’t seem to escape.

And though Noah didn’t say anything more, his grip on you tightened, as if silently reminding you that he wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.

a/n: started drafting the ending. you guys will be happy!!

🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous1313 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa @rlalliehayes @evelynffics

[cheeseatlantic]

oh yeah 64 followers ily all (ONE QHOLE MINECRAFT STACK OF YOU GUYS???) guh its snowy here so ive come to feed you once more

note this is a draft im clearing this stuff out cause why not lmao

SNOWBOUND

The snowstorm had hit harder than expected, trapping you and the infamous Simon “Ghost” Riley inside your little cabin for the day. The fireplace crackled, casting a warm glow across the room, but your focus was fixed on the icy world beyond the window.

Simon, however, was focused on you.

“You’ve been staring outside for ages,” he said from behind, his voice teasingly gruff. “What’s so fascinating about frozen water?”

You turned to him with a grin. “I’m trying to figure out how to convince you to come play in it with me.”

“Play?” He tilted his head, amused. “What are we, five?”

“Oh, come on!” you said, grabbing his hand and tugging. “Don’t act like you’ve never built a snowman.”

He didn’t budge, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “You forget who you’re talking to. Snowman-building wasn’t exactly part of my training.”

“Well, it’s part of mine,” you shot back, already pulling on your boots and tossing his coat at him. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

Moments later, you were out in the snow, your breath visible in the crisp air as you tried to roll the base of the snowman. Simon stood nearby, hands shoved in his pockets, watching with a mix of amusement and bewilderment.

“You’re supposed to help,” you huffed, struggling to push the growing snowball.

He raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you’ve got it handled.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fine. If you’re not gonna help, you’re gonna—” You scooped up a handful of snow and chucked it at him.

The snowball hit his shoulder with a satisfying thwack. For a moment, Simon just stood there, staring at the offending white fluff as if it had personally insulted him.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he bent down, packed a snowball, and hurled it right at you.

“Simon!” you shrieked, laughing as you ducked and grabbed another handful of snow.

The next twenty minutes were pure chaos—snowballs flying back and forth, laughter echoing through the empty woods, and Simon showing surprising accuracy with his throws. By the end, you were both breathless, cheeks flushed, and Simon had a rare, boyish grin on his face.

As you both collapsed into the snow, staring up at the grey sky, Simon nudged your shoulder with his. “Alright,” he said, his voice softer now. “Maybe snow’s not so bad.”

You turned your head to look at him, snowflakes catching in his lashes. “Told you so.”

He chuckled, low and warm, and reached over to brush a stray flake from your cheek. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

And when he leaned closer, his lips brushing yours, as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, instantly warming you up. The snowstorm didn’t seem so cold anymore.

why did my writing improve so much bruh dawgs

[sshadow-heartz]

HELLO I'm almost new here and I've started reading your writings and the truth is that they have fascinated me 🥺

i really loved them and more about the guards so i would really like more!!!! maybe this time a smut about a circle guard idk 😭 only if you can and want, i haven't read many about them. tysm 💘

Thank you so much, you’re so kind!

After Hours

💕Circle Guard x Player!Reader

💕Written with fem reader in mind

💕Word Count: 1.3k

💕Tags: Smut, Oral, Fingering

• masterlist • c.ai bots •

!!Do not proceed if underage or are sensitive these topics!!

After sneaking into the vents in the bathroom, you had been crawling for what felt like forever. Spotting a vent cover, you look down beneath you. Rows of guards wearing aprons lined up side by side, stirring large pots of what you recognised as dalgona. They worked in unison, stirring, pouring and stamping with varied shapes. Could it be the next game…?

Your studying of the scene down below is interrupted as some dust flows through the vent, causing your throat to itch. You try your best to hold back a cough and stay silent, the irritation proving too much as the sound echoes within the cramped vent. You pause immediately, holding your breath as you look down. You knew if you were caught you’d likely be killed.

A mask with a circle print stares up at you blankly, peering through the vent cover above the pots. Even through a mask, you can tell they’re locking eyes with you. Anxiety builds in your chest, someone knew you were up there…

The other guards continue to work, oblivious to your presence watching over them silently. The sole guard to see you had their attention pulled away, a triangle guard signifying the end of their shift. They exit the kitchen, a line of circle guards hanging up their aprons and filing out of the room. You wait nervously for the last guard to leave, but they simply hang up their apron and look back up at you through the vent.

Just as you’re about to crawl back to the bathroom, you see them wave you down. Arms outstretched, ready for you to land in after you give up and jump down. Pulling back the vent cover, you slip through the opening, falling right into their open arms. They barely move, your weight meaning nothing to their strong physique. Crossing your arms, you make it clear you aren’t afraid of them or what they’ll do. They don’t even have a gun, what’s to fear, right?

The guard looks down at you, shaking their head disapprovingly as they set you down. Placing their hands on their hips, they make a clear show of looking you up and down, noting your features and the curves of your body through your uniform. You had left the thick jacket behind, wearing just the t-shirt and sweatpants to crawl through the vent more easily. You glare up at them, brow furrowed as you watch them stare at you.

“Hey! I’m not afraid of you. What are you gonna do? Tattle on me to a triangle?” You mock, puffing your chest in an attempt to make yourself look scarier. “Yeah, that’s what I thought! You’re just gonna stand there like a… like a wimp!”

The guard watches you yell, listening as you try and think of an insult. You’re adorable. Bratty, but adorable. That attitude just won’t do, you need someone to remind you of your position here…

They step forward, towering above you. Grabbing your shoulders, they spin you around to face the wall, pressing you against it easily. Pulling your hands behind your back, they hold you in place. You feel your cheeks heat up, a blush spreading over your face as you’re manhandled by the tall guard behind you. It felt weirdly good, the hands around your wrists not allowing you to struggle. The attention felt good, even if you were trying to be angry.

Tilting their mask up ever so slightly, they lean over you, large body pressing against your frame. Their head finds your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. Trailing kisses along your jawline, they pull a hand away from your wrists, reaching up your shirt to run over your curves. The warmth of the guard’s body and their wandering hands causing your head to spin, the sensations causing you to shiver.

The guard notices your reactions, seeing you press against their hands, the way your lips part ever so slightly, cheeks dusted with red. They smirk, burying their face in the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping, leaving behind dark marks. Their hands squeeze your breasts softly, fingers pinching your nipples. Your quiet sighs and moans don’t go unnoticed, only fuelling their desire for you further.

Running down your sides, their hands pause at your hips, leaving you reeling in anticipation. Pulling a hand back, they slap your ass hard, chuckling to themselves as you gasp. Looking over your shoulder, you watch as they look down, kicking your legs apart. They tilt their head up towards you, eyes covered, yet their intense gaze causing your legs to go weak.

Pulling down your sweatpants, they let the fabric drop to your feet. You hear them let out an appreciative sigh, hands reaching down to grope your ass. You arch your back, pushing against their large hands. You can feel their gaze taking you in, feeling small under their looming height.

Their fingers hook the sides of your panties, yanking them down. Exposed before them, they waste no time reaching down to rub your aching clit. They hum, amused by how wet you are for them. A quiet moan slips out of you, the touch feeling incredible as you ache for more. Trailing circles around your sensitive flesh, they dip down towards your slit, a finger pushing into you. Your thighs shake ever so slightly, caught up in the pleasure being brought to you.

Pumping their finger slowly, they lean to press a dominating kiss against your lips, their tongue battling against yours. You feel a second finger slip inside of you, your moans swallowed by the kiss. Pulling away to let you catch your breath, they continue to pump their fingers, curling them against the sensitive spot buried within you.

Strings of moans and whispered curses leave your lips, their fingers filling you up so perfectly. They speed up ever so slightly, their pace rough yet still causing you to see stars, eyes barely open as you squirm beneath them.

Feeling you clench around their fingers, they quickly pull away, causing you to whine as your climax is held off. Gripping your jaw with their hand, they bring their fingers up to your mouth, pressing them against your lips. Watching your tongue work against their fingers so desperately pleases them, seeing you act so beautifully submissive.

Pulling away from your mouth, they kneel down between your legs, lips trailing up your thighs. Trailing their tongue around your clit, they tease the sensitive bud, listening to your pathetic moans. Sucking your clit softly, they moan at your taste, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. Their tongue trails down towards your soaked slit, trailing the entrance before plunging inside. Moans spill from your lips as they explore your aching heat, only growing louder as their fingers work your clit once again.

Feeling your climax building, you buck your hips, tilting your head back. They only continue, spurring you on and working you ever so perfectly until you reach your finish, moaning loudly as your eyes squeeze shut. You pant heavily, the pleasure taking your breath as you gasp between moans. The guard continues through your climax, only pulling away until you squirm from sensitivity.

Standing up once more, they yank your panties and sweatpants up, patting your ass teasingly. They gesture to the vent, reminding you to get yourself back and cleaned up, knowing you’ve already been gone a while. You feel their smug proudness, having left you a mess, smoothing your hair with shaking hands. Your legs felt so weak, the thought of crawling back through the vent already tiring you out.

They let out an amused hum, giving you a boost up to the vent. Something tells you this won’t be the last time you’re reduced to a moaning mess, beginning to crawl back to the bathroom. Until next time, you suppose…

[tgmsunmontue]

White Hot - 2/? - Hangster

A TGM AU - Blacksmith + Metal-artist Jake and History Teacher Bradley.

ONE

                Jake is used to people coming and going through the forge. There’s a viewing platform large enough for about sixty people and a whole sound system set up so they can talk about what he’s doing while he’s working. It’s a few hours before any scheduled display though, and the forge is quiet considering how noisy it can get, and he hears someone mumble something and it has him looking up to find a guy watching him intently and he smiles in welcome and puts down his tools.

                He’s only making horseshoes for the local farrier and the souvenir shop. While he can shoe horses, he prefers far more artistic pursuits. However shoeing horses is what opened the doors. The farrier visiting his parents ranch showing him how to do it, and then taking Jake with him one weekend to show him how to make the horseshoes. He’d found it fascinating. Has always found fire fascinating and now he gets to work and play with it as much as he wants. Right now though he has to go and make nice with a visitor.

                “Hi. Can I help you?”

                “Uh. No. Just… thinking of coming back with my kids. Uh. Students. I don’t have kids.”

                Jake nods slowly, wonders what this guy’s problem is and looks behind him, wondering if something has caught on fire but then it clicks. The guy is flustered because of Jake and that has him turning back and doing a second sweep with his eyes, the long legs covered in denim, the long sleeved button-down but with the sleeves rolled up because while it’s winter, it’s still Texas and they’re also in a blacksmith forge and Jake is only wearing his own jeans and a tank, but he’s got a thick leather apron to protect him, along with the gloves, which he slowly pulls off and he doesn’t miss the way the guys eyes track the movement.

                “Name’s Jake Sersin,” Jake says, holding his hand out. “What age do you teach?”

                “High school. History,” the guy provides and he shakes Jake’s hand.

                “Cool. You scoping it out to bring them to the village?”

                “Yeah. One of the other teachers recommended it actually, seeing as I’m new to the area. I’m just a little worried that most of the kids will have been here before, what I can get them to consider…”

                Jake thinks he’d have likely enjoyed History a damn sight more if his teacher had looked like this, because Mrs Watson was probably a lovely person, but she should have also probably retired ten years before Jake started high school.

                “What high school?”

                “Johnson High?”

                “No shit? Really? My old school… my history teacher was Mrs Watson.”

                “Yeah, she retired. I’m her replacement.”

                “Like… recently?”

                “Yeah. I’ve only been here since August.”

                “Holy shit, I thought she was old when I was there…” Jake muses and the hot history teacher is looking amused. “Well, anyway, welcome to Texas I guess…”

                “Thanks. I’ll let you go back to your, uh, work…”

                Then he’s kind of fumbling an awkward step backwards, not that there is anything to trip on, waving a hand in an awkward half-wave and he’s gone before Jake can say wait, or ask him out, so he just has to hope he’ll be back. And if Jake has to ask him out in front of an entire class of high schoolers, then so be it.

[ikeromantic]

Thanks for all the efforts you are doing for us.

I have a fic request for Elbert (Ikemen Villain) and MC having their first child (probably a girl) and their cute moments with their baby and rest of crown.

Thanks nonny! I haven't thought a lot about the Cursed with a kid. This was fun! I hope you like it ^_^ Approx 1500 words.

You felt a little nervous as you stepped into the meeting hall. The long table at the center was done up with ribbons and platters of food, even a decorative swan made of ice. It was really too much, but just like Victor. The leader of Crown was already there, sitting beside Elbie. Their gazes were fixed on the bundle of blankets in Elbert’s lap.

Your precious baby girl. She looked so much like her father. Narrow chinned with pale blond hair and eyes as deep and blue as the sea. Right now, she was watching Victor with an expression of intent seriousness, chewing on her fist as if in deep thought. 

Her focus was no surprise. Victor had her rattle in his hand, and with great flourish made it disappear. Then he made it reappear by pulling it from Elbert’s ear. The baby giggled and waved her arms in the air, trying to grab the magic rattle. 

She was distracted from Victor’s rattle trick a moment later. Liam popped into view right in front of her face and laughed. “Peek-a-boo!”

Elbert and Victor both gasped in surprise but the baby giggled. She waved a drool-covered fist in the air. 

“Don’t do that,” Elbie told him with a slight frown. 

“I think she rather enjoyed it. Not as much as my magic trick, but what baby doesn’t like peek-a-boo,” Victor grinned. 

Liam smiled. “She did like it. See?” He went invisible again, then popped into view in front of the baby. “She laughed more at me than you.”

Victor shook his head, “I think the child has -” His reply was interrupted by the door being kicked open behind you.

Jude walked in with Ellis at his heel. He looked you over with a critical eye, then nodded. “Ya look alright after all your slackin’. Months of doing nothing, ya must be rested.”

“I wasn’t doing nothing,” you frowned. “I had a baby. Being pregnant and caring for a newborn was a lot of work.”

“Tch. I’m hearing a lot of pointless yappin’ right now.” He stepped past you, violet eyes landing on your giggling baby. “That the kid?”

Ellis nodded. “She looks like Elbert.” 

“Jude. Ellis. I’m so glad you could come.” Victor’s wide smile encompassed them both, then his gaze lighted on you. “My dear! You look radiant. Come, sit here.” He beckoned you over. “She’s your daughter, so perhaps you can set Liam straight on her favorite game, hm?”

“Ya think that baby likes yer stupid magic tricks? Or that invisible crap?” Jude gave a harsh laugh. “Yer both wrong. She likes toys. Real nice ones. See?” He pulled a velvet robin from his jacket. It had bright blue and red ‘plumage’ with cheery dark eyes and a painted wooden beak. When shaken, it made a little chirping noise. 

Your baby girl was fascinated as Jude handed her the toy. She shook it and giggled, then put the bird’s head in her mouth and gave it an experimental chew. 

Jude couldn’t hide the slight smile that lifted the corners of his lips. “So that’s it then. Ya can send me the paperwork later. For when ya name me her godfather. Just make sure ya tell people where ya got that toy. We’re gonna make a killing on these things.”

“Godfather? Victor’s head tilted. “If anyone is going to be the baby’s godfather -”

Ellis lifted your daughter from Elbert’s arms. “It’s just amazing how happy babies are. And how happy they can make people.” His twilight-dark eyes glittered with specks of gold as he inspected your giggling baby girl. 

“Who said ya could pick up the kid,” Jude asked. 

“It’s fine. As long as he’s careful.” Elbert watched with a soft expression. 

Jude held out his arms. “Tch. Fine. But he’s holding her all wrong. Here. Gimme the brat.” 

Roger arrived just in time to hear Jude’s retort. “Brat? You didn’t call my goddaughter a brat, did you?” His glasses glinted and his eyes narrowed. 

“Figure o’ speech.” Jude was cradling the baby against his chest, carefully supporting her head and neck as if this wasn’t his first time holding a child. “And whaddya mean, your goddaughter?”

“It just makes sense.” Roger grinned. “I’ve been her physician since before she was born. I was there when she took her first breath.”

Ellis nodded. “That makes you her doctor, not her godfather.”

Harrison poked his head in the door, having clearly been eavesdropping before he stepped inside. “You know, it’s actually against English law for a doctor to be also be a godparent to a patient. Conflict of interest.”

You glance at him speculatively. “I’m not sure if you’re lying right now or not. It kind of makes sense.”

“Anyway, who’d want to be a godparent? So much responsibility.” Harrison shrugged as if he could never understand, but his gaze strayed toward the baby with more affection than he normally let show for anything. 

Roger gave Harrison a look of annoyance. “If you don’t want the honor, stop interfering. The little lady is going to be my goddaughter.”

“What’s this? Are we already deciding who the godparents might be?” Alfons followed Harrison in. His dark eyes glimmered with mischief. “Why don’t we let the lovely mother decide, hm? He reached toward you, and you stepped back.

“Hey, no cheatin’,” Jude frowned. 

Harrison reached for the baby in Jude’s arms. “Cheating? No one’s cheating here but you. Hogging all the baby to yourself.” His mint green gaze met the baby’s clear blue eyes. “You want to come to Unky Harry, don’t you? And have some candy? Yeah?”

“She’s much to young for candy,” Roger admonished. 

Alfons snorted. “An ‘unky’ ought to know that. Really, Harrison.” 

Jude relinquished the baby to Harrison. “Whatever. I’m outta here. Can’t waste anymore time on these idiots.” He gave you a grin that wavered between his usual cruel smile and something much gentler. “I’ll have the godfather documents drawn up for ya.”

“That’s quite unnecessary,” Victor interrupted. “It only makes sense that I -”

Ellis spoke up. “I’d like to stay a bit longer, Jude.”

“Tch. Fine. Ya can work late to make it up to me.” He left in a swirl of muttered curses, and one last glance at your little girl. 

Victor tried again. “I think it only makes sense that I am -”

William interrupted this time, coming in with a small army of servants carrying brightly wrapped gifts. “There’s my precious baby girl,” he grinned. 

“Will. What is this?” Elbert’s cool gaze traveled over the growing pile of gifts. 

“It’s nothing much. Just a few items of regard from myself and some friends.” William smiled. “This way our baby girl has plenty of options.”

Elbert’s nose wrinkled. “Our?”

“Of course, our,” Victor intervened. “We all love you, and our little robin, and your daughter.”

William’s smile grew. “Exactly.”

“And that is why I, as the leader of Crown, ought to be her godfather,” Victor added quickly, before he could get interrupted again. “Besides, she likes me best.”

“Victor. Are you trying to pressure Elbert and the little robin to name you godfather?” William shook his head. “Let them decide on their own. They’ll tell us what their desires are.”

“So you brought all these gifts because you don’t want to influence their choice?” Alfons laughed. 

Harrison was bouncing the baby on his knee. “Come on. They’re going to decide based on who the most responsible one of us is. You can’t pull rank, Victor. Or buy their approval, Will. Or manipulate them into it, Alfons.”

The three named Cursed all pretended offense and for a moment, everyone was talking at once. Then Liam’s voice cut through the clamor. “We should have a competition. To prove who should be her godfather.”

Roger sighed and crossed his arms. “Alright. What do you have in mind?”

“This sounds fun,” agreed Victor.

“I’d have to check with Jude,” Ellis replied noncommittally. “But I think he’d be ok with it.”

“My daughter’s future is not going to be decided by some contest,” Elbert spoke up. “She’s much too precious for that.”

“I agree,” you spoke up. “Why don’t we just name all of you . . . uncles?”

Alfons nodded slowly. “All the fun, none of the responsibility. Good thinking, little robin.”

“Uncle.” William considered. “I guess that’s acceptable. If that’s what you want.”

Liam sighed. “Can I be her favorite uncle?”

“Sure,” you told him with a laugh. “But you’ll have to earn it.”

“I will. I’m going to learn everything she likes.” Liam grinned widely.

Ellis ran a hand through his hair, considering. “If it makes everyone happy, I’m glad to be an uncle. But . . . Jude might not like it.”

“What do you say, baby girl,” you coo to your daughter as you lift her out of Harrison’s lap. 

Your daughter giggles and bites her toy robin again. 

“I think that’s a yes,” Elbert says faintly over your shoulder. His arms come around you, hugging you and the baby. For a moment, you’re lost in his touch, the faint, sweet smell of him enfolding the two of you.

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 9.2 - 50 Shades of Enchantment

MIKO

Rich sims were weird—

—And a little fascinating.

Honestly, it was crazy to wear a $950 simoleon blouse to work, wasn’t it? And did the sims of Glimmerbrook really need a fake apothecary to sell them inert potions and herbs to solve problems that were probably mostly in their minds?

Not that Miko was supposed to be thinking about all this, mind you. She was supposed to be listening to her manager, Gemma Charm, explain how the mixing station worked.

“Are you sure you have experience?” Gemma asks hesitantly.

Miko was sure she’d spent three summers working at Body Oils and Bath Stuff before the Newcrest location closed down. And there was no way mixing fake herbal concoctions was  more advanced than restocking shelves with cheap-smelling shampoos and lotions. “Absolutely. You really don’t have to worry about me. All of this is old hat.”

Gemma nods, “Good. You came highly recommended, and we really need the extra help. Election season politics are sort of running our family’s whole life right now.” She rolls her eyes. “My brother really should be the one helping, but, well, you get it.”

Alice always said her father campaigned year round, so that must be what Gemma was talking about. “I’m just here on a student visa, so I don’t vote, but I think it’s important. I’m just glad to help.”

“You don’t vote?” Gemma gasps. “But it’s compulsory. And anyone with an ancient bloodline or a unique power differential is eligible for the seat, so it would be crazy just to sit it out.”

Compulsory voting? Bloodlines? Windenburg politics sounded Byzantine as shit. Miko used to think she wanted to live here after graduation, but now? It would be a relief to get back Sim Nation West and elect her officials based on normal stuff like half-hearted promises to end corruption and lower tax rates.

“Oh, uh, I don’t really care about that stuff…should we talk about the register?”

Gemma is not content to let the subject drop. “That’s a terrible attitude, Miko. What about your bloodline? Were both your parents casters?”

Thankfully, a customer walks in and saves Miko from having to answer that completely bananas question. Did Gemma mean newscaster? What in the hell about Miko and her half-priced Urbz jeans projected “child of sims who are on TV”?  

Mystified, but curious to learn what kind of crazy shit sims bought from this shop, she listens as Gemma greets their customer and launches into a wholly bizarre conversation about the Full Moon’s effect on mandrakes. 

The woman is nodding along, dressed in what is conservatively a $3000 simoleon outfit. She doesn’t even flinch when Gemma informs her about the price of this year’s crop—$250 simoleons a pound. 

What would it be like to have that kind of money?

“I’ll need a Potion of Good Fortune,” the woman adds. “We want to put an addition onto the house and could use a little more money.”

“Of course,” Gemma smiles, “Miko can help you.” She turns back and gives Miko an encouraging look.

“Happy to help!” Miko says, her smile so wide it feels like her face might crack open.

PREV | NEXT

(Part 2 of 8)

New to the story and want to catch up quickly? Click here.

If you prefer long-form, you can read this on my WordPress here.

[stitchyblogs]

my curse is that i keep falling in love with peacock shows that a) people forgot they have a subscription to, or b) keep getting cancelled- but if you DO have peacock and you want 20+ recs hit a stitchy up, yooooo

NUMBER ONE please watch The Resort. It’s about love and grief and going on a magical realism vacation in the mayan riviera and playing detective on some missing teen’s old ass pre smartphone cell phone 🤳🏼🌴

(definitely serves as a stand alone miniseries, but i’d love more)

Look at this cast and tell me you’re not like “ohh.” THE RESORT. NOW.

2!!!! WE ARE LADY PARTS

a comedy about a British punk rock band named Lady Parts, which consists entirely of Muslim women. One of whom is obsessed with Don McLean, which speaks di-fucking-rectly to teenage stitchy

threeeeee is BRILLIANT MINDS, the medical drama show i would make if you held me hostage. I would say “there are too many doctor shows already!!!” And youd’d say, “make one anyway!!! I have a weapon!!” But this doctor show is Special. It’s based on the work and character of neurologist Oliver Sacks, who i’ve been fascinated by since doing the opera adaption of The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat in college (brag). It’s kinda like if House had old school Quantum Leap levels of empathy and 🏳️‍🌈

gif by @pedro-reed THIS SHOW IS LIKE A HUG. Did i MENTION mandy patinkin cameo that rocked my world??? Btw???!

shuttup i fucking loved the treasure of foggy mountain. Its number 4. i said what i said

FIVE! Speaking of films on peacock, you know Conclave is on there right? RIGHT?! It’s the Mean Girls of pope movies. It’s everything to me, a cradle catholic who thinks canon Jesus was pretty lit, its the fandom I can’t gel with. And Ralph Fiennes has to care for his dead boss’s army of turtles need i say more

Okay back to tv series… MR MERCEDES! It’s stephen king doing some hardboiled detective shit that only baaaarely steps out of reality. Like. One toe. One and a half. Shout out to all my Brendan Gleeson fuckers, i know you’re out there.

Everyone else… You might not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like.

are we on 7? We’re on 7. It’s MRS DAVIS. Betty Gilpin is a nun raised by shady Las Vegas magicians who is Hot For Jesus and on a mission to destroy Artificial Intelligence and her mommy issues. My flabbers were gasted by this perfection.

(Complete narrative btw!)

EIGHT. Do you love Stephanie Hsu??? Do you enjoy Nahnatchka Khan’s other work? Check out LAID. A sex comedy that is very preposterous and if we do not get a s2 I will be haunted forever. my Number 1 nepo baby Zosia Mamet is also here and she is not playing around

NINE is a total left field premise. Claudia O’Doherty and Craig Robinson go into business hunting exotic pythons for cash. This might be the peak hustle culture show about a Tenuous Job. I have never touched a snake in my life and i’m gripping my guts from laughing like “so tru bestie!!”

TEN is a P.S.A. Friends, i need you to know Peacock has some golden oldies. Is Little House On The Prairie your show when you’re sick on the couch? Did you dad raise you on old Quantum Leap? Have you been meaning to meet my best friend Mr. Detective Columbo!? They are HERE!

awoooo!! 11 is WOLF LIKE ME. Josh Gad is an american dad living in australia for some illusive reason… idk… anyway his daughter has a serious anxiety disorder he is carefully managing, and uhhhhh guess what his new girlfriend Isla Fisher is a werewolf. LET GIRLS BE MONSTERS.

Uhm i think I’m gonna have to stop here and re blog to add more. Too many images! 😅

[moltengoldveins]

honestly I’d like to see more weird interesting interpretations of the effects a magical or ‘humans are space orcs’ environment could have on a chronically ill character. Like, I have a Ton of random sensitivities that could absolutely screw me over should I end up in Fantasy/Space/Pandora Land, such as:

Mold sensitivity absolutely SCREWING with someone in Bioluminescent Magical Mushroom Land. They walk through the archway or up the path or whatever into the magical tree place and just Immediately pass out. If they’re brought there unconscious, they simply don’t wake up, and eventually when their friends wake up they puzzle together that the illumination for the whole building is just Mushrooms in the Walls.

Someone dealing with a detox issue who currently has a ton of heavy metals in their system walking underneath a floating island being held aloft by magnetism and just bowling over in agony as the current pulls the metals from where their body stowed them into their bloodstream. I’ve sorta had this happen to me, I tried one of those “run a magnetic current thru your body so the metals are dislodged and your body can flush them out” things, but I didn’t know I was dealing with a complete shutdown of the systems that remove toxins from your body (kidney and liver and sweat and more all of it was in complete shutdown I was actively dying dw about it-) so all it did was shoot a bajillion little capsules of poison into my blood with nowhere for them to go and I almost passed out and felt like crud for the next week.

Moon sensitivity being So Much Worse on a planet with multiple moons. People’s hormones and periods and chronic pain spiking randomly with basically no warning or schedule it would SUCK. A character with bipolar is So Much Worse on that planet and none of her alien friends know what’s happening.

Spikes and drops in barometric pressure due to magically summoned storms causing severe chronic pain flare-ups in either the mage summoning the storm or one of their allies whom they didn’t know had joint problems. Same with a planet with a very unstable atmosphere.

Vitamin or nutrient deficiency, or genetic conditions that prevent someone from metabolizing the nutrients in their food and necessitate supplements. This would be HUGE. Can you imagine a human character with anemia, or low vitamin D, or an issue metabolizing folic acid in space? Or in a medieval world that can’t accommodate their needs? Just an alien crew watching in worried confusion as their human slowly grows sluggish, twitchy, forgetful and snappish during an unexpected long haul to a distant outpost. When asked what’s wrong, they say they’re fine, or that their nutrient intake has just been low recently, but they’ve been eating the same things they always have. The ship medic does a brain scan and realizes their grey matter is cannibalizing itself, and he can’t figure out why. The human stops exercising, and when they do, one of their crew mates notices they aren’t sweating anymore. One day they run into the room of another crewmate with a padded floor nest, curl themselves into it, manage to stammer out a “don’t worry, don’t tell others. I’m ok” before they start thrashing. Finally they arrive on base and the human medic is like “Oh dang. You didn’t refill your folinic supplements before you came here did you? Dang. we’re gonna need to keep you on a higher dose for a bit to try to make sure your immune and detox systems don’t crash. How bad were the seizures?” and every alien in the crew is Horrified.

Someone who needs assistive devices but only occasionally has a bad day halfway through the Magic Quest and realizes in horror that they forgot their cane/ can’t currently access their chair. Someone who takes muscle relaxers or painkillers thrice or so a month having a huge flare-up and being immobile for an entire day while rushing to Stop The Evil Lord.

Someone who needs excess oxygen always walking around in an atmospheric suit, even in human-friendly atmospheres, because they’re self-conscious about the breathing tube.

Someone with POTS trying to keep their salt intake up in fantasy medieval Europe where salt is tricky to get, or a space setting where salt is a minor poison to most species.

[bugganox]

I see people drawing or writing of sea gods deitys (specifically goddesses) more often than not being dainty, feminine, majestic, and very conventionally pretty. And yes, the ocean itself is quite pretty and majestic. But I would also like to counterpoint that with, way more of the ocean is FUCKING TERRIFYING. And I think that is the most beautiful part of it as a whole. Now, you can draw your characters however you want- don’t let some random guy on the internet tell you what to do. There isn’t anything wrong with drawing them prettily at all! I. I just. I LOVE the goddesses that look like sea monsters. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. I like drawing characters that are meant to be deity’s in a way that represents what they rein over, and the ocean is an incredibly vast and fascinating concept. I just feel like there is so much design potential in characters like that, why stick to such a conventional look when The ocean is basically the opposite of conventional? The ocean is weird, creepy, and vast- but still beautiful despite everything. Get weird! Don’t be afraid to be creative in your art, especially when the world we live in is anything but.

[fingertipsmp3]

This is the spiritual successor to Four Seasons Landscaping. To me.

[brittlebutch]

almost no one has written binx/hob content and certainly no one had written it in the way i am currently finding it intriguing, which is admittedly disappointing. so perhaps i will have to do it if no one else will.

[musclesandhammering]

I need any and all au fics where Loki actually died when he fell from the bifrost or where most of the fic takes place in the 1 year gap pre-avengers so you actually see the family and Asgard’s reactions in the aftermath.

[thesorcerersshadow]

merlin whispering “don’t let him get too close”, already the advisor on arthur’s shoulder when society says he really has NO BUSINESS being so, and arthur listening and drawing his sword and warning uther. okayyyyy.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Idk what put you back in your Sandman era but gotta tell u I am living for it. Your taste in posts is impeccable lmao

Baby I am at all times one post away from doing a deep dive on someone’s Sandman tag and rapid fire reblogging 80% of it.