#best razor for thick leg hair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

richarlotte · 4 months ago

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Hair Removal Methods.

I was heavily inspired by a post I found on Reddit when making this post. I haven’t seen too many posts about hair removal methods on Tumblr, and I have quite a few asks in my inbox about that, so it made sense for me to make a small guide with tips, methods, and recommendations. If you want more information, product names, my sugar wax recipe, or just recommendations, please don’t hesitate to send me an email or just comment below for me to respond.

Shaving.

Cost: $

Speed: Average

Smoothness: Average

Discomfort: Low

Tips/Methods:

* Always buy men’s razors. They usually come with sharper blades that don’t clog as much as the blades on women’s razors.

* I only shave using hot water and when I’m in the shower. The hot water softens the hair and makes it easy to remove, and the flow of the water prevents my razor from clogging.

* The direction you shave is important. If you shave against the grain (the direction opposite the hair points), you can get a closer shave, but you risk ingrown hairs. Shave with the grain on sensitive areas and do multiple passes if needed.

* I personally use shaving cream from EOS and products from Topicals to lessen ingrown hairs and clear up dark marks. Shaving isn’t my preferred method or hair removal, but when I’m in a rush, it gets the job done.

Best for your whole body, especially large and flat areas like your arms and legs. It's cheap and effective but often time consuming. If you want to maintain a perfectly smooth body, you’ll have to shave or touch up at least twice a week.

Nair/Chemical Removal.

Cost: $

Speed: Medium

Smoothness: Smooth

Discomfort: Low

Tips/Methods:

* There are many brands but the basic idea is you apply the cream to your skin, wait 5-10 minutes while the hair “melts" off your body, then you wipe it off. You’ll definitely need to shower after using Nair to remove any excess cream and to avoid burning your skin. I would say this is mandatory unless your specific brand says otherwise.

* The process will probably smell pretty bad. You'll want to wipe the cream and hair off with something disposable to avoid ruining your regular towels. I personally use tissue, you can use anything easily accessible.

* PATCH TEST BEFORE USE. These creams and powders are made from very really strong chemicals and can absolutely mess you up if you aren't careful. Everyone's skin is different, so put a little on your arm first, see how it reacts, then use it on a larger area.

Best For: Armpits and pubic hair. I find these creams are best at getting hard to reach or uneven surfaces that your razor might struggle with. This is also a good option if you are in a hurry or don't have the option to try the options below.

Epilation.

Cost: $$

Speed: Slow

Smoothness: High

Discomfort: High

Tips/Methods:

* Epilators look kind of like foil shavers you'd use for your face, but the end has a roller with tiny clamps that essentially grab hairs and pull them out.

* Personally I think these hurt like a bitch, especially the first time you use them. You can definitely feel each individual hair get pulled out of your skin.

* The main benefit of an epilator (and waxing, discussed below) is that you're pulling the entire hair out, root and all. This means hair in that area will grow back significantly slower than shaving. It also means that if you're willing to commit to a routine, each future use with the epilator will be less painful.

* I highly recommend icing the area before and after to avoid swelling. That being said, the area needs to be completely dry for the device to work.

* Epilator performance has always been pretty hit and miss for me. They're good at getting coarse hair, but will struggle to get fine or short strands. Again, you will likely need to make a shaving pass to clean up anything left behind.

* Additionally, if your hair is too thick or the surface is too uneven, the epilator can get tangled and stop functioning leading to a super painful situation. As with any of these tips, definitely test on a small area and see how it performs for you so you can get a feel for the length/thickness your device can handle.

Best For: Flat smooth surfaces, primarily your arms, legs, and torso. Some people really love epilation, others don’t. I think epilation is an acquired taste and it’s not my favorite method.

Waxing.

Cost: $$ to $$$

Speed: Slow

Smoothness: High

Discomfort: High

Tips/Methods:

* When you need to get 100% smooth there is no substitute. I love the way my body feels after waxing or sugaring and it’s what works best for me.

* I'll do my best here as a general overview but please watch some video guides before attempting this. I'll cover the two most common options I have experience with: soft wax, sugaring, and hard wax.

* Soft Wax: Hot wax is applied to the skin, then bandage strips are applied over. Once the wax cools, the strips are pulled off, taking the hair with them. This method is probably what you've seen in movies. They're good for getting rid of finer hairs, but unlike hard wax, you risk taking off your skin if you do it wrong. If you're trying waxing at home (especially for the first time), avoid this option. Despite the name, hard wax is actually much safer and what I recommend

* Hard wax: Hot wax is applied to the skin. Once it hardens, you peel the wax off by itself, taking hair with it. Since hard wax only bonds to hair and not skin it's a much safer option for beginners and does just as good a job removing hair as soft wax. This is what I use when I don’t have time to make my sugaring solution and I've never looked back.

* Wax is warmed in a... wax warmer! It's a little pot with a heating element, kind of like a croc pot. Hard waxes come in pellets that you dump in, soft waxes usually come with their own container that pops into the unit. Look for a wax warmer that can adjust the temp, not just an on/off switch. Most but not all have this feature. Each wax brand is different so you'll need more/less heat to melt it correctly, especially if you're doing a longer session where the wax can begin to solidify in the pot.

* Popsicle sticks are a cheap, effective way to apply wax. You'll want something disposable as it can get quite messy.

* Waxing, like epilators, will slow down your hair growth. This means the more you do it in the same area the less hair will grow back, and the less painful each subsequent application will be.

* Your hair needs to be a certain length for the wax to catch, so check your brand and plan accordingly. My professional technician has mentioned 1/4th inch is a good guideline for when to start waxing.

* As with every method on this list, please test on a small part of your body first. The wax will be quite hot (like getting into a hot bath) but not so much that it burns your skin.

Best For: any area you want super smooth or silky.

Laser Hair Removal.

Cost: $$$$

Speed: Slow

Smoothness: Depends.

Discomfort: High

Tips/Methods:

* Getting started will take some time and effort. You have to set up a consultation beforehand before even scheduling a session where you'll talk to the professional, ask any questions, then work out your plan.

* Laser hair removal is a process over time, not a one and done. Considering each session can cost hundreds of dollars, we are talking a huge investment. It cost me $800 over 4 sessions just for a small area on my lower body. For larger areas, we could be talking thousands!

* On that note, the total cost is going to vary a ton. Not only will each area be priced differently, but most places require you to book multiple sessions in a row or packages of X sessions you can choose to use over a year.

* The pigment of your skin matters a lot. Generally speaking the darker your skin the harder/less effective the process will be. There are different types of lasers available that may make this irrelevant but you'll definitely want to do your homework.

Final Thoughts.

What matters most is time. If you have the time to wax or shave your whole body, go to a professional for laser hair removal or pro waxing, or epilate yourself, then you’ll have much better results than someone who rushes through everything. Learning, investing in quality products, and then actually investing time into the hair removal process will get you closer to where you want to be without wasting as much time or money as you would leaping in blind or with no effort.

Richarlotte x

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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♡ 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖎'𝖒 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 ♡

♡ Pairing: vampire!bang chan x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: When playing with devils you must be careful not to become one yourself. Unless, of course, you want to...

♡ Genre: smut/angst w/ horror elements

♡ Word Count: 1.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: blood, biting, discussion of violence/death, unprotected sex (the man's literally dead though so, like...), reader death (only on a technicality. you're fine)

Limbs scattered through garbage-riddled alleys. Intestines strung from archways like streamers for some grand party. Bodies drained of blood. Husks of what they once were. Unrecognizable to even those closest to them.

What kind of monster could do such a thing? Despite the police department’s best efforts, the culprit that terrorizes the city, snatching victims in the darkest crevices of the night, remains a mystery to them. To everyone. Everyone, that is, but you.

You know for a fact that the shadow looming at the end of your bed, this creature masquerading as a man, is responsible for these atrocities and, with the exception of a few unfortunate souls, he carries little remorse about what he’s done.

Chan honors your request not to hear the gory details of what he does but it’s difficult to escape them. It’s all over the news and social media. Your coworkers won’t shut up about it. It’s enough to make you sick to your stomach. Enough to make you never want to lay eyes on him again.

But when he appears in your apartment tonight, the same as he has countless nights before, his eyes shimmering pools of black, he awakens something inside of you that makes your knowledge of what he’s done as hazy as a bad dream. You watch as he steps into the soft light cast through your window by the full moon.

Chan’s breathtakingly handsome, gifted with a body built for sin and bone structure to die for. It’s almost as if his maker crafted him for the express purpose of getting you to compromise your mortal soul. Chan laughs, cracking a devilish grin, “It’s a little too late for that isn’t it, my love?” You crawl to the middle of the bed, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you.

“Too late for what?” He comes face to face with you, the razor-sharp tips of his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “The whole ‘compromising your mortal soul’ thing.” Chan pinches one of your fluffy cheeks, his full lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re damned. The same as me.” A chill blows through you, the kind that whistles through long abandoned caves, at the thought that he might be right.

You shake it off, nervously running your fingers across the intricate lacing at the breast of your sheer black nightgown. “We are nothing alike” you snap, “And stop reading my mind!” Chan backs away from you, discarding what’s left of his clothes, and, ignoring your wish for your thoughts to remain untouched, listens in on the filth that lurks in the back of your mind when you see how hard you’ve gotten him.

That is why you wore something see-through, isn’t it? To tempt him with your lush breasts and the stiffening buds at their peaks. You know how ravenous it makes him to have free access to the softness of your stomach. To see your pillowy thighs grow even thicker when you sit the way you do now.

You intended to send all of the blood rushing through the veins that travel along his thick, lengthy cock. Craved the sight of it, without even the most fleeting concern for whose blood it actually was. You blink and he’s behind you on the bed, his nails carefully shredding your nightgown to pieces.

The fabric melts down your body as smooth as butter. Chan takes your breasts into his hands, caressing them as he kisses your neck. “Tell me you want me to leave and I will.” Your head falls back on his shoulder, arms reaching back, fingers threading through his hair.

The coldness of his body battles the warmth of yours, a dynamic that has you sweating and shivering all at once. “Just say it,” he whispers, his right hand kneading your gentle form as he works his way down to your thighs, effortlessly parting them.

“You want my help?” he asks, lightly squeezing your clit between his pointer and index fingers, “Repeat after me.”

“I…”

“I…” you whine, gripping his hair tighter.

“Want…”

“You…”

“You...”

Chan dips his hand further between your thighs, muscles flexing beneath his skin as his fingers curve into you. ��I want you” he hums, fangs pricking at your neck just enough to leave a mark without drawing blood. You repeat after him, word for word, “I want you. I want you. I want you.” The “to leave” is silent. Nonexistent.

You’ve considered many times asking him to leave before things went too far but you never had the strength, or the sincere longing, to do so. Chan can do so much more than read your mind. He can read your body like one would their favorite book. He knows that if he rotates his fingers just…like…this, it’ll tug at the most sensitive parts of you, making your pussy weep.

Chan plants kisses along your jawline, trailing up to your ear. “I want you too. Not just now,” he confesses, “Forever.” It’s a simple word, “forever”, but the emphasis placed upon it speaks volumes of his feelings for you. “Me too,” you say, not even thinking, only feeling. “I can make it that way, you know. I could…” The implication breaks you free of whatever spell you’re under.

You twist out of his arms, pulling the blanket over your naked body more for comfort than anything else. “Chan, you can’t be serious.” There’s that glint in his eye again, only this time it’s all his doing, the idea of turning you exciting him more than his last kill. “Why can’t I be serious?” he asks, climbing on top of you, his arms caging you in, “Tell me you've never thought of it.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t and, under the circumstances, it’s not even worth it to attempt to lie. At one point you harbored such a thirst for life but somewhere along the way, in a place that you can’t quite pinpoint, you lost it. Everything became dreary. Repetitive. Monotonous. Life lacked excitement. It lacked color. Nothing made you feel truly alive anymore.

Then came Chan. The spark that reignited the flame. You often wonder what it might be like to have the freedom that he does. The power. To have access to things far beyond the reach of humans. But what he does to those people you could never bring yourself to do. Chan slips the covers from between you, reuniting his body with yours. Bringing your legs around his waist, he brushes the tip of his cock between your folds.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You’re still so wet. Maybe wetter. “You’ll never have to” he promises, “ I’ll do it. All of it. Feed you. Care for you. I just, fuck, I want you more than anything.” Chan bucks his hips, sinking into you. You hiss at the stretch, your back arching as your walls swallow him deeper. It’s only been 24 hours since he last made love to you but it’s felt like a lifetime.

You wanted him….needed him…so badly. Each stroke is more intense than the last, satiating your thirst for more pressure each time he bottoms out. Your moans are as close to heaven as he’ll ever be. He kisses you passionately, capturing them with his tongue. This is the best you’ve felt all day. It’s the best you ever feel. Being in his arms, his lips pressed to yours, is indeed something you can never imagine losing.

“Will it hurt?”

Chan shakes his head, biting his lip as you clench tighter. “Never…mmm…hurt you.” “Then do it” you mewl, eyelids fluttering, defenses crumbling. The bed creaks as his thrusts quicken, the legs of the mahogany bedframe scratching at the floor. 200 years of lovers and no one’s even come close to feeling this good wrapped around his cock. You’re so vulnerable, so trusting, so fucking beautiful that he can’t waste another second not having secured you as his.

Baring his fangs, he sinks them into your neck. You gasp at the force of the impact but the bite itself merely tickles, undetectable when paired with the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. Chan brings his wrist to his mouth, making a small incision with one of his fangs. Your lips part knowingly, suckling at the wound when he presents it to you. Blood coats your tongue, a crimson copper-laced treat running down your throat.

There’s something in it, something special, that strengthens the floral scent of your perfume. It’s overpowering. Dizzying. Everything’s louder. The cars zipping by on the streets. The sounds of grasshoppers and cicadas calling their mates in the neighboring park. Your vision sharpens, and corners of your room previously dominated by darkness are now bright as day.

And you feel. Oh, you feel everything. You’re in tune with every aspect of your nervous system. This level of awareness is mind-numbing but you don’t want it to stop. Your breath catches, your orgasm arriving with such ferocity that your nails slice into his skin. “That’s it” he coos, “You’re all mine now so come for me. Just for me.” He says it like you have an option.

Like there’s anything you can to do stop yourself from unraveling, the juices flowing from your core like a river. You scream louder than you ever have. The only discernible word is his name, said over and over until your body’s too spent to even say that. Chan kisses up and down your body, whispering to you in a language unknown to you before but somehow understood fluently now.

He’s praising you. Worshipping you. Swearing to honor your bond forever. To him, you’ve always been breathtakingly beautiful, gifted with a body built for sin and curves to die for. It’s almost as if your maker crafted you with the express purpose of tempting him to corrupt your mortal soul. What a sweet thing it was to destroy.

#bang chan x female reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan au #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #stray kids x thick reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x y/n #chubby reader #stray kids vampire au

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ryuichirou · 5 months ago

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What is your take on twst boys' body hair? I know their cards show they don't really have any, but maybe you have any thoughts about it?

Anon, hi!

As you might have noticed, I myself very rarely draw body hair due to my personal preference. And, as it always does, my personal preference is definitely going to make me biased in this post… But still, as always, I’ll try to be as objective as I can! Well, as objective as a headcanon could be lol

Let’s goooo

Riddle – a little baldie. It’s not like he is completely unable to grow any body hair, but he is, once again, a late bloomer… Out of every non-cursed non-animal non-fae character, Riddle is the least hairy. He copes by thinking that it’s better not to have any hair at all than to be gross and stinky about it. Very mature of him.

Ace – if one looks closely, it’s possible to see hair on his legs and a little bit on his arms, but he is a ginger, so they’re pretty light and thin. His pubic hair are a bit thicker, but it’s not like he has a bush or anything. He also heard that some basketball players shave their armpits to improve performance, but since it sounds like too much work, he decided that it’s bullshit.

Deuce – his hair is more noticeable than Ace’s since it’s darker, but unlike Ace, he does believe that shaving improves athletic performance, so he actually started to shave his legs… but then stopped because Ace made fun of him. But then decided that his running got worse with hairy legs, and shaved again. Now he is kind of stuck, but he is embarrassed either way somehow. When Ace was making fun of him, he said that Deuce should also shave his pubic hair off, and Deuce called him an asshole and an idiot, but started to kind of think about it… what if it also helps?

Trey – kind of hairy, he probably has the most noticeable arm hair out of all non-beast characters. While some of the characters could get away without shaving their face every single day, Trey isn’t one of them: he shaves every morning. He doesn’t think about his body hair much, but he would still choose to wear pants instead of shorts + longer sleeves a lot of times. He also shaved his arms for the Stargazing event…

Cater – look, another redhead with ginger fuzz lol His is even less noticeable than Ace’s though, because his hair is of a lighter hue in general. He trims and shaves his pubic hair sometimes, but it’s mostly due to boredom plus wanting to see what looks best on his body.

Leona – hairy like any other beastman. His hair is long and thick, not as long and thick as his brother’s though, plus they are somewhat less noticeable on his arms. The idea of shaving doesn’t even occur to him. Other than his face of course.

Ruggie – hairy boy, not much to say here. His legs are especially hairy… although he is probably the least hairy out of the beastmen of the cast. He shaves his face, but somehow his beard/mustache always grows in patches, so it’s for the best.

Jack – definitely the hairiest one of the cast. Grey/white hair on his arms, fuzz on his back, some chest hair here and there (definitely going to get more of those as he gets older), a massive bush with a gradient from white to black down there… Sometimes I feel like he has an undercoat… wait, does he? Anyways, he also tried shaving his legs once for track and field, and got frustrated because it took ages + he broke a razor. So he doesn’t do it anymore. He shaves his face every day though, but soon he’ll have to do it twice a day.

Azul, Jade and Floyd – merpeople who don’t have any body hair whatsoever. The first time they learned about the idea of body hair they got very visibly surprised. Floyd finds the idea of body hair very funny, he is someone who could glue some hair to his chest just for the sake of messing around. But he’ll get tired after a couple of minutes…

Kalim – his dad is super hairy, so he is probably also going to end up hairy, but for now he doesn’t have a lot of hair. There is white fuzz in his armpits and between his legs, maybe some white hair on the lower part of his legs here and there. Miraculously he can’t grow any hair on his chin, but this is definitely going to change one day.

Jamil – if he didn’t shave at all, he would be kind of hairy, but he shaves pretty regularly. The moment Jamil started shaving his face, he started shaving everything else too. “Might as well”, “I wear sleeveless shirts so my armpits are showing”, “It would look stupid if I stop here”, and voila, Jamil ends up with his entire body silky and smooth. He hates shaving (with his type of hair it takes so much time) but loves the result too much.

Vil – he also shaves regularly, but he doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with (it’s also very thin), so he doesn’t have to do it every single week. He does it purely for the aesthetics. He tried growing out his pubic hair, but it didn’t feel right to him, so he shaved it right off. In terms of taste though, he loves hairy men sometimes, but he strongly believes that body hair needs as much care as any type of hair, so if you have a bush you have to at least trim it.

Rook – he used to be hairier before joining Pomefiore. He still remembers Vil’s upset face as he looked at Rook’s transparent and yet very burnt little arm hair. A lot of Rook’s body hair is rather light, but the lower it gets, the thicker and darker it becomes. Anyways, he also shaves these days lol A lot of times he is smoothly shaved everywhere. It’s not like Vil absolutely requires him to be this drastic (just trimming pubic hair a little bit + shaving legs and armpits would suffice!), but Rook is a maximalist sometimes. He also has to shave his face regularly.

Epel – he can barely feel some fuzz on his body and he is super excited because he feels like it’s a sure sign that he will grow a huge beard very soon. He copes by thinking that his dad and grandpa are both hairy men, so technically he should be one too! Maybe he’ll become as hairy as Jack! It’s already happening, he can feel it! Yeah, he is pretty bald lol Some fuzz on his cheeks and between his legs are the only things he has going for him right now.

Idia and Ortho – no hair; somehow Shrouds’ curse also cancels it out. Idia is terrified of hearing a firecrotch joke though, he feels like it would cause his psyche irreparable damage. Ortho doesn’t care about body hair much, but he had a phase during which he really wanted to be able to grow it just because.

Lilia and Malleus are also completely hairless because they are a certain type of fae. Not all fae are as smooth as them, and Lilia technically should have some body hair because he is a bat, but somehow he ended up not having any. And Malleus kind of forgets that people are supposed to have hair on their bodies…

Silver – his pubic hair is so… soft. So tender and pearly white, it’s very fuzzy and doesn’t even feel like proper hair. He is like a beautiful unicorn… or a princess. He doesn’t have much and never really thinks about it. He did notice that he has hair in places his father doesn’t though, it kind of scared him as a kid lol

Sebek – he is the hairiest one out of the Diasomnia four. It’s probably due to the fact that he is only half-fae, and it kind of drives him insane, especially as he compares his body to Silver’s. How come he has more body hair than Silver?? How come his are thicker and darker?? He is also the only Diasomnia boy who shaves his face regularly, but it’s not as often as other people have to shave. Once every three or four days? Kind of.

#replies #headcanons

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bruisedboys · 2 years ago

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🧸 steve harrington- a patching up b’s wounds maybe?? 👀💗

of course! this isn’t my best work but I tried lmao 🫶🏽 cw! mentions of injury/blood but very minimal descriptions. reader cuts their leg while shaving

gn!reader 0.7k words

You hear the front door open and suddenly you’re a sitting duck. You have no time to hide the nasty gash running up your shin. You listen to Steve shed his shoes and bag and you know you’re waiting for the inevitable. Aka, Steve being a worrywart.

“Sweetheart?” Steve calls. “Where are you?”

“In the bathroom!” You cringe at your thick voice. You’d cried when you’d accidentally sliced your leg with your razor, not for long but you know it’ll make Steve worry even worse.

You hear Steve’s footsteps in the hallway and desperately try to think of a way to hide your wound. No such luck. Steve appears in the doorway, tall and frazzled and totally handsome. His smile drops though, when he sees your leg.

You twist from where you’re sitting on the rim of the bathtub, partly so you can see him better, partly in a poor attempt to cover your injury. It’s useless because he’s definitely already seen it. You can tell by the look on his face.

“Hi, Stevie,” you say brightly, all smiles.

Steve doesn’t smile back. “What happened to your leg, baby? Let me see.”

He’s on you before you can stop him, swooping down to sit next to you on the tub. He puts a hand on your shoulder and leans over you for a better look.

“Shit,” he says, staring at the cut on your leg. When he turns back to face you he’s got worry written all over his face. You want to kiss it away but don’t think now’s the right time. “How in the world did that happen?”

He sounds incredulous. Like it should be impossible for you to ever hurt yourself. You’re sure he’d like that.

“Um.” You pause, knowing he’ll hate your answer. “I, um. I cut myself while shaving.”

Steve gasps, actually gasps, and you’d laugh if he didn’t look so utterly mortified.

“Angel,” he says slowly, his hand sliding down your shoulder to squeeze at your bicep. His eyes are so intense it’s like he’s staring into your soul. “Did you really?”

“Sorry,” you say instinctively. You duck your head so you don’t have to look at him. “It’s just a cut, Steve. I’m fine.”

There’s a beat of silence in which you try desperately not to start crying again. You hate making Steve worry about you. It creates an ache in your chest worse than your wound.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice is soft now, almost a whisper. “Angel, look at me.”

His finger finds your jaw and hooks around it, pulling your chin until you’re looking at him. You don’t want to, but he has this way of making you putty in his hands. You’d bend to his every will if he wanted you to.

You look back at him and you think he knows you’ve been crying, because he takes your face in both hands and swipes at your cheeks with his thumbs. He doesn’t mention it, though. You’re grateful for that and give him a small smile to show it.

Steve smiles back then, all things soft and pretty, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t be sorry, babe.” His hands slide to your shoulders. “Let me fix you up, yeah?”

You can’t exactly say no to him. You’ve never been able to say no to him. You’re decidedly quiet as Steve grabs supplies from the bathroom cupboard. He sits in the tub while he tends to your leg, first cleaning the blood away with warm water and a cloth and then sticking a couple of Band-Aids on top. He’s gentle as ever. It almost makes you cry again.

“All fixed, doc?” You ask once he’s plastered two Band-Aids criss-crossed over the gash.

Steve looks up at you, his hair wild from having his head ducked over your leg. You reach out and push it behind his ears for him because you can.

“One more thing,” he says seriously.

You’re about to ask what the one more thing is, but then he dips his head and lays a smacking kiss on top of your wound.

“Steve!” You giggle.

“What?” Steve tilts his head to the side innocently, his hair flipping sideways. “It’s doctor’s orders, babe.”

Before you know it he’s peppering kisses all over you leg and your knee, his lips soft and quick but enough to make you giggle until it’s hard to believe you were even injured in the first place.

#★ mal writes!#𖤐 2k celebration!#ღ stevie #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #✉️#stevesmixtape!

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alien-magnolia · 1 year ago

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can we please have a sequel to spoiled? maybe with cockwarming??

Definitely :) here it is! I will be more active on my page from now on after a short break, so expect some more stuff to come!!

Spoiled: Part Two

Fic Description: A late autumn Saturday: Joel decides to take his sickeningly sweet neighbor out for the night, their relationship reaches to further heights.

Tw: Daddy issues/ kink!, dom-coded! Joel miller, sub-coded! hyperfem reader, alcohol use, dark!Joel, creampie, breeding!

Wc: 2.7k

Saturday, October 16, 2001. 6:57 PM.

——

Joel Miller stands under the hot, pressurized water of the shower, washing off all the dirt and insulation dust he had on his thick arms. He had just come back from a shift at the construction site — there were plans for a new house to be done by December. Time was not to be wasted. He usually would have stayed until nine in the evening. Not tonight.

Tonight, he was going to see that sweet girl again. He couldn’t believe how in the world, he could’ve gotten a hold of her. She was his neighbor, and it was meant to stop at that. However, it didn’t. The man did feel a bit guilty. He was fifty-six. She was twenty. Should he have not been doing this? What would the others say? Surely — he was glad nobody else knew about their relationship. He was sure the girl’s parents — quite affluent, would not be pleased. Yet, he did not care. This girl was the best god-damn thing that’s ever happened to him. He was not going to lose her.

He stumbles out of the shower, the hair on his legs getting caught on the towel, which he quickly dried himself with. A plain black t-shirt, jeans, his nicest belt. He rarely wore sneakers, yet he put them on tonight. Cologne. Lots of it. Slicked back hair with a tiny comb. A light jacket — for her. Shaving cream, a razor. He couldn’t have too much stubble, of course.

He rushes out the door, expertly deflecting Sarah’s questions. Soon enough, he waits in his truck. Her parents were home tonight, so she was to sneak out the back door, and nonchalantly get into his truck. There she was.

A white skirt, pink top. A little sparkly necklace. Diamond earrings, he was sure. Her dainty hands struggled opening the door of his Chevy pickup. She musters, finally, getting into the seat.

“Hi, Joel,” she giddily says to him, smile as wide as his. “Hi, honey. Quick now, let’s close that door so nobody sees us,” with that, his arm reaches over to close it shut, finally giving them the privacy they needed.

“Kiss?, she asks, batting her eyelashes, waiting. “Not now, hun. Don’t want anyone to see us. When we get there, yeah?,” he comforts her with a hand on her thigh, his calloused fingers squeezing and kneading the soft plushness of it. She crosses her legs over his arm, squeezing him back. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Not now, sweetie. At my house, yeah?”

She nods obediently. “There’s a good girl.” The drive to the bar was mostly silent, as Joel’s thumb continued tracing circles on her thigh, while she nervously squirmed in the gray seat of the car.

“We’re here.” “Lemme open that door for you, honey.” She agrees as he gets out of the car first, running over to open the door for her. Her small hand in his, he helps her step out of the large truck. She was very small, after all. A hand around her hip as they walk into the building. Everyone needed to know, she was his, after all.

~ 2nd person point of view ~

Joel’s hand was around your hip as he led you into the pub. It looked Irish, with a rowdy crowd of middle aged men, all instantly turning their heads to peer at you. You did not like the attention, your hand reaching to Joel’s arm for some sense of comfort. “S’okay, sweetie. They won’t hurt ya. You’re with me, yeah?” You nod.

At the counter, Joel orders for both of you: a shot glass and a bottle of Jack Daniels whisky for him, and for you: a Strawberry Daiquiri, extra sugar, pretty and pink. Joel’s inextricably large fingers grab the small shot glass, pouring himself that bottled auburn fire. You don’t know how he drank it — it was awful to your tastes. You nurse your cocktail, enjoying the mellow, fruity taste of it.

“How’s your drink, hun?” You smile and nod, telling him that it’s good, while taking light sips through the red and white straw, puckering your lips — and your eyes on his lips.

The alcohol was getting to you. You were a bit of a lightweight, after all. “Feeling okay?,” his hand comes up to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to him. His body warmth did make you feel a little better. “I think the daiquiri was a little strong, Joel,” you reply. “Why don’t we go outside and get some air, yeah?,” he offers. You agreed, and he paid for the tab, helping you get off the high up stool by lifting you down by your waist. Your skirt was a little raised, and a few of the seedy working class regulars at the bar decided it was a chance for them to stealthily take a few glances. Joel noticed.

He quickly puts your cardigan on you, without you asking, and fixes your skirt, standing in front of you to block the men’s view of you. “What happened?,” you innocently ask, seeing if he will explain himself to you. “Come. Let’s go outside. Saw these men looking at what’s mine,” he huffs, in a tone of mild annoyance. You grab onto his large, veiny arm, as your heels stumble a bit on the gravelly asphalt.

He leads you back to his pickup, sternly telling you to wait, as you try to open the door for yourself.”I’ll get that for ya, hun. Didn’t want us to be seen too much, especially at the bar. Our situation — well, maybe it is a bit taboo, if that makes sense,” he explains to you, as he comes to your side of the car to open the door, and lift you up onto the seat. Again — without you asking. His casual dominance was very much getting to you.

“I know, Joel. It must be weird for those people seeing someone like you, with someone like me. I still want to be yours, though,” you mutter, batting your eyelashes, (which were currently sporting your very expensive mascara) your pink acrylic nails fiddling with your diamond necklace.

“S’fine. I’d want to keep a pretty thing like yourself, around, yeah? We’ll just keep it a bit of a secret. Especially from your parents,” he suggests, his medium brown mustache tickling your cheek as he gives you a gentle kiss. You nod, agreeing.

The drive home was filled with a few jokes and giggles, as Joel tried to lighten the mood. It worked, a little bit. One hand on the steering wheel, the other hand on your thigh. Your soft thighs squeezed around his hand, making him shift in his seat a little. He parks the truck on the other side of the street, as not to be seen going into the neighbor’s house by his daughter.

In the dark, with only one street light illuminating your path, the two of you walk to your porch, your hands sliding in the key to your door. You struggle to push open the door once it is unlocked. “Let me, yeah?,” Joel chuckles, and you watch how his muscles bulge from underneath that green jacket of his, how tightly his belt sits on his waist…

“You okay there, sweetie? Got it open for ya. This door is a heavy son of a bitch.” You nod, laughing at his joke, the feeling between your legs growing more hot by the second.

He sits on the couch, motioning for you to join him. He turns on the tv, the two of you cuddling while mindlessly watching the latest episode of reality tv. The both of you are still a bit inebriated from the alcohol. You feel it as Joel’s breath quickens, heart as well, you heard it as you were laying down on his chest. He sits up momentarily to take off his jacket, revealing a skin tight — simple, yet attractive, gray t-shirt.

“Was a little hot in here, hun. You sure you don’t want to take off that lil’ sweater of yours?,” he asks, a smile like the Cheshire Cat. “Okay,” you agree, and his rough hands slide the expensive and delicate fabric off of you, revealing your tank, your neck, your shoulders. So smooth. So young.

You smile, laying down on him again. You ask him a bit more about his job, eager to listen to him explain it to you. Someone as yourself could never partake in construction work — yet your curiosity got the better of you. You imagined him working under the sun, in a dirty uniform, using all his strength to handle construction tools and materials.

“Joel,” you squeak. He grunts back as an answer. A cue to go on. “How strong are you?,” you ask him. It was finally time to set the mood for tonight.

He chuckles. “Well, I handle some pretty rough tools and stuff like that at my job. Requires some muscle, ‘guess.” “Can I feel?,” you sweetly ask, looking up at him.

He nods, smiling down at you as your tiny hands run over his wide biceps. You give them a little squeeze. “Very strong,” you chuckle. You move your hand up to his beard, feeling it’s toughness on your smooth palm.

“Is my sweetheart gettin’ a lil’ antsy?,” he taunts, with his southern drawl, which you imagined would vibrate nicely against your puffy pussy. “Yes, Joel. Yes, um… daddy?,” you question, you could not remember if he liked that or not. “Yeah. Call me that, sweets. I’m old enough to be your dad anyways. Might as well, outta respect, yeah?,” he asks, his large body now moving over on top of you.

His calloused hands come up to cage you into the couch, as the two of you start fervently making out. His hands trail and explore your body, squeezing your hips, your thighs, your chest. One hand rests on your hip, swiftly maneuvering you into a position in which he can easily reach. Soon enough, you feel the large bulge in his jeans palm against your thigh, alongside some huffs from Joel.

“Thigh’s so soft, hun. How’d you get it to be like this, huh,” his husky voice sends chills straight down to your core. “Wanna, Joel… Wanna…taste you,” you plead with him, manicured hands running through his faded brown-gray locks.

“Daddy’s girl askin’ nicely, yeah? You’ll get your fill, sweets. I just need to have my fun first,” he huskily replies to you, and with that, skilled fingers begin reaching under your skirt, trailing over your pretty pink thong. His eyes turn wide when he sees your lace thong — draped over a smooth and curvy body.

His hands trail over the little bow on the piece, just above the plumpness of your pussy. “So fucking sweet. Lemme get a taste.”

You moan as you feel his beard on your soft tummy, on your thighs, his plush lips kissing in ALL the right places. You feel a few tiny kisses on the plush of your already swollen pussy. His calloused fingers trail up your hips.

“Legs up, girl.” You do as told, and he slides the thong right off you. Spreading your legs apart, he starts to kiss and lick at your puffy pussy with fervor, like a man starved. You feel the rumble of his deep voice against your clit— and it only makes you squirm for him even more. “Joel!! Ah” — you squeal, watching as his deep brown eyes look up at you from between your legs. He continues, hands tracing circles on your sensitive belly and hips, tongue alternating patterns, while lapping up at your lips.

“Joel..,” you whine. “Too much for ya, princess? Gonna have to lay there and take it,” he huffs in response. “Joel. Not enough. Want your… hah!!,” you can’t finish your sentence as you feel two of his fingers start to slide into you.

“Want my what? What is it, hun?,” he taunts. “Your cock. I - uh…,” you trail off, lost in thought as Joel tries to figure out what you’ve been going on about.

“Sweet girl wants daddy’s cock, yeah? Gotta wait, hun,” he huffs, and momentarily lifts himself off of you. “Been thinkin’ about your tight cunt. Jesus,” he groans, explaining himself to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, as his hands work quickly to unbuckle his jeans, revealing gray boxers: sporting a tent, soaked with a bit of precum.

“Have a lil’ taste, sugar. Come on now, don’t be shy.” You oblige, smiling up at him as you press your nose into the tufts of his pelvic hair. Your small hands gently cups his bulge, massaging a little. You gently pull off his heavy jeans all the way down, running your hands over his muscular thighs, nice, warm, pressing against your neck. Joel lays down, hands on your hips guiding you to straddle his lap.

He watches you with hooded eyes, as you pepper his abdomen and happy trail with little kisses. Your bubblegum pink lipstick stains his boxers, you look up at him with concern, he nods, as if it is the ‘go-ahead,’ for you. He didn’t mind, and you were glad.

You press a few gentle kisses to the tip of his cockhead, running your tongue over the soft, smooth, skin. Your fingers gently trail up and down his shaft, massaging circles into it. You look up at him, while pressing a few kisses to his lower abdomen, his shaft, his balls. His head is thrown back, deep brown eyes still on you, mouth parted, panting. You couldn’t believe you could make him feel this good. “Keep going, sugar. Jus a lil’ more, and daddy’ll have his cock ready for ya,” he pants out, barely there because of your pink lips working their magic on him.

You make sure to kiss his balls too, gently, while cupping them in your hand. You take half his cock down your throat, trying your best not to gag. “Always wanted a girl to throat train,” he chuckles, as he pets your head, your eyes constantly watching each other.

You take a break from suckling his shaft and cockhead in your warm throat. He suddenly comes on top of you again, pushing you down into the couch. Your hands grip his broad chest, his shoulders. “Think my girl’s ready for some cock now, yeah? Gonna breed her, see if she likes it,” he tells you, in between planting wet kisses on your tits, your neck, pausing a bit to suckle and bite your nipples :) <3

Your back arches as he continues his treatment of your now erect nipples, hands groping your soft tummy and hips. His now angry, red and leaking cock, is aligned with your puffy entrance. You are his meal. His meal that he is about to very much enjoy.

“Let’s see how much this pretty pussy can take, sweetheart,” he groans, caging you into him again. With your legs over his back, your soft chest against his hairy, chiseled one, he starts to pound into you with great vigor and strength. His cockhead instantly reached that spot inside of you, that made you see stars. It was warm, pulsating inside you, giving your pussy the best treatment it’s had yet. His plump balls press against your red, swollen, lips, as you hear the sound of your skin slapping against his. His grip on your hips tightened, to the point that it was painful. Just a few more seconds, and the both of you were done for.

“Daddy…,” you barely manage to choke out, overwhelmed by his thick cock bullying your puffy pussy. “Gonna breed you, sweets. You just stay still now.” Joel kept his word, as the both of you reached climax, you felt his hot seed spill into you, almost up until your cervix. Your head swimmed and spun with thoughts of him making you his, his property, his breeding slut, his breeding cow. You were so giddy, you couldn’t wait.

After the both of you were finished, you fell asleep in his arms. You didn’t notice as he got you back into your original clothes from the night, taking his time to adjust your expensive jewelry. He even cleaned up the couch, and carried you up to your room. “Night, sweets. Thanks for showing me a great time,” he whispers, prickly mustache planting a kiss on your forehead, and leaving your room and house, to go back to his run of the mill life — as simply your next door neighbor.

A/n: if you like this post, pls reblog - it’ll help a writer like me out <3

#liz’s masterlist #liz writes 🖤#joel miller hot #joel miller smut #joel tlou x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller headcanon #dom!joel miller #dom!joel miller x subby!reader #joel miller x hyperfem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x female oc

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cgogs · 1 year ago

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dear atlas, c!dnf | 4.7k | angst with a happy ending

@dreblrsecretsanta for @purpleglitch !! Sorry for the early upload, it's just that I'm about to be BEYOND busy for the holidays and figured I'd upload this now while I have time. I hope you enjoy it so much!! Happy holidays to you <3

Each step up the castle tower sends a razor-sharp, bone-deep bolt through Dream’s legs. It’s his boot’s fault, mostly. He’s been meaning to replace them, it’s just that every hour more important things are added to his to-do list. Mediate this conflict, protect George, meet with someone here, monitor status on this, go here, deliver that, and try not to die until the day’s itinerary is complete.

Shopping just isn’t a high priority, but he’s beginning to reconsider that sentiment. He really should just give in and invest in another horse, but it would probably just be killed within a month and they’re just far too expensive for that.

His armor clinks quietly as he moves, uneven and exhausted. A small part of him alerts like a guard dog– straighten up, nobody can know you’re vulnerable, anyone could hear how hurt you are– but another painful step quiets the barking. He traps the groan behind his teeth.

Dream stops for a moment to lean against the wall, hand braced on where the candelabra fixture hooks into the stone. This spiral staircase is dearly kicking his ass, more so than usual. Without the climb to focus on or the pain to blur his vision, he has the opportunity to take in his surroundings.

The castle is quiet, quieter than usual, candles burning low and dripping on the floor. Moonlight cuts through the windows at an angle sharper than it should.

Dream pulls his communicator from his belt to check the time, a curse slipping out under his breath as the numbers meet his eyes. It’s nearly three in the morning. He’s coming home late. Very late. They talked about this, Dream promised he’d try to get home earlier.

Guilt settles thick in his gut, despite barely having the brainpower to feel much of anything at all other than exhaustion. He blows the stray hairs out of his eyes, chuffing like an annoyed horse.

Four nights ago, George had been waiting behind the door at the top of the tower. Dream knew he was in trouble before George even opened his mouth. He was holding a clock and asked Dream to guess how late it was. When he guessed wrong, George shoved it in his face, too close to even see the hands, and angrily proclaimed it was nearly one in the morning, and that Dream had been coming home at one in the morning every night the last week after spending all day ‘doing god knows what, who knows where.’

Dream had done his best to be earnest and honest, as much as he could be. If George had it his way and was privy to every little thing Dream did, he’d be stoned in the street or tied to a pyre. Dream’s not sure what events would bridge the gap between these two truths, but he knows it would happen.

He had told George he would try, but that he had so much to do this week. George was anxiously picking at his cuticles the way he did when he was thinking hard, and asked him to promise he wouldn’t come home later than this. Dream thought he’d be able to. And, yes, he’s sorry he broke his promise but… it’s all so important. So important.

He hadn’t meant to let time get away from him. He just had so much to do, and so many stupid things got in the way, Tubbo and Fundy, then Q… and he got in a scrape on his way back and it was all just so fucking stupid.

Guilt grows like a vine up his throat.

He’s sorry. He thinks about what he’s going to say, how he’ll explain himself. He can’t grip on a coherent sentence or script, eyelids heavy like mud, mind fuzzy, feet aching.

Maybe it’ll be fine. George will be asleep, and they can talk about it in the morning. He’ll open the door and see dark hair splayed over feather pillows, still as death. Dream will strip his armor and curl into his body and fit whatever position George fell asleep in, and he’s so excited for it. Though currently, he’s not sure which lover he’s looking forward to seeing more– the bed or the boy.

The last seven days have felt like seven years.

Wax drips onto his fingers. Wincing, he takes another painful step forward. Suddenly things like guilt and excitement were as far away and abstract as distant planets or stars.

Dream nearly falls through the door when he reaches the summit. He catches his breath, straightens his posture, and prepares to get ready for bed without waking his king.

He opens the door as quietly as possible. Thankfully, it squeals only a little bit. He tiptoes in, craning his head to look at the boy already fast asleep. He’s curled all the way to the edge of his side of the bed, back facing the door. Dream wonders if it means something.

He unhooks his cloak first, folding it gently on the table in the middle of the room. It’s a large room that can fit a round dinner table, as well as bookcases and couches and a fireplace. The kinds of things George doesn’t appreciate as much as Dream thought he would.

The boots are next to go, then his sword and his axe, then armor one by one until he’s stripped to his pants and shirt. After a moment’s thought, he shucks off his pants. Shirt and boxers. He looks at the bed and practically salivates, not even thinking to bother with changing his bandages. He sets his comm on the bedside table and attempts to lift a leg to climb in.

Dream’s legs wobble and give out as soon as he leans his weight on the bed. He collapses onto his side, a symphony of pained noises trapped behind the cage of his teeth. He looks up, wide-eyed, to see if he’s woken his Sleeping Beauty. George remains still as a corpse.

He rather pathetically pulls himself up to spoon him, arm laying limply over George’s side. A sigh of utter relief slides out of his lungs as his chest decompresses. It’s relief like an ice bath in the desert or hot soup in the snow.

The bed is soft on his aching body, George’s sweatpants soft on his bare, bruised legs. Dream drags his calves to tangle with his, allowing himself a relieved whimper into the crook of George’s neck. He sometimes teases George for dressing like he’s living in constant winter, but really he wouldn’t change it for the world. It means soft hugs when he drags his miserable body into bed at the end of the day. If he didn’t wear his sweaters, George wouldn’t be able to cradle his head in his sleeves when he’s bleeding, and Dream wouldn’t be able to bite down on the thick fabric when he had to scream.

He feels the tension in his body slowly unwind. Every breath has him sinking further and further into the mattress, a taut string slowly, slooowly let to rest. He pulls George closer, hooking his arm tighter around his waist. If he wasn’t used to it it might feel a little like cuddling a corpse.

That dog in the back of his mind starts growling again. Telling him to check, check, check.

Dream obliges since it’s a simple request, and he knows he’ll never be able to sleep otherwise. He slides his fingers down George’s arm to find his wrist, pressing on his pulse point. It takes a few adjustments, but he finds that steady beating pressing against the pads of his fingers. Alive. Safe. The last requirement needed to sleep is fulfilled. Dream sighs, nuzzling his head against George’s neck, hand still loosely wrapped around the bone of George’s wrist.

The midnight air is clear and cool. Dream is warm and holding the love of his life. Nothing outside that horrible wooden door matters here. Nothing else matters. No blood, no bone, no war. Just George.

That is, until he hears the unmistakable sound of his communicator buzzing against the table behind him. Dream ignores it at first, but it comes again and again. His eyebrows knit in frustration. He buries his nose further into the dark space between George’s neck and the pillow, like he could outrun the nagging in the back of his mind.

It vibrates again, breaking Dream’s resolve. He groans miserably, more than half asleep, as he untangles himself to reach back for the comm. His vision is blurry with sleep, making it near impossible to read the screen until he’s blinked a dozen times. The light of the screen shines too bright for how dark it is. He uses a hand to shield George’s direction so it won’t wake him.

It’s Punz. Punz, in code, telling him he’s finished the reconnaissance he’d been told to do two days ago. Updates on the pet experiments, no luck yet. Their theory about the revive book being exclusive to human souls is seeming more and more solid, but that’s not something he wants to be thinking about at the moment.

<Dream> thkx

<Dream> domt text me this lat e

He fumbles the buttons, accidentally sending Punz a string of gibberish before giving up entirely on typing a coherent goodbye. He’s about to throw the device down and shove his nose back into the crook of George’s neck when the body next to him begins to tremble.

Dream stares for a moment, wondering if he’s hallucinating from lack of sleep. Then there’s a hiccup, followed by two sharp breaths, both so quiet Dream would have missed them if he wasn’t holding his breath.

“George?” Dream whispers, voice wrecked from all the yelling he’d done today. He drops the comm on the bed so he can lay his full hand on George’s shoulder. He could be having a nightmare, but he’s not sure. All he knows is that he wants to fix it. “George?”

George gives up on keeping it in and starts crying honestly. Whiny but guttural, more hurt than angry– but it’s with his teeth, not throat. Dream sits up in bed, the exhaustion that had been possessing him instantly chased away.

“B–by?” Dream whispers, word cracked in two from his shredded voice. “What’s wrong?”

He feels like an idiot trying to catch something that’s about to fall, chasing it around with his arms outstretched. He wants to fix this, but doesn’t know how. George is mad, he can tell, but he’s hugging himself, and that isn’t something George does when he’s mad. It’s something he does when he’s scared.

“You’re safe.” Dream rubs his arm, pushes those beautiful brown curls out of his face, watches the tears fall over the bridge of his nose. “I’m right here.”

“Why’d’you– why’d you lie to me?” George says, strangled. He seems to decide crying is stupid and embarrassing, because he furiously wipes at his eyes. “Why are you always lying to me?”

Dream bites his lip anxiously. The same guilt from the hallway lacquers his insides again.

“I didn’t– I’m– I didn’t lie. I lost track of time. I’m sorr–”

“You’re lying to me.” George sits up, eyes red and stubborn. He’s pulling his thoughts together to form an argument, Dream can see the gears turning. “You’re hiding things.”

“I’m, that– okay, just. What am I lying about?”

“Where you go all day!” George has grabbed a pillow to hug, rocking himself back and forth. Dream thinks, briefly, that he looks cute. He wants to hold him, but the way they’re sitting is classic parley formation, facing each other with crossed legs, knees touching. Neither of them can cross the middle line until the argument is over. That’s just how they do things. “I don’t– I don’t know exactly what, but…”

“I’m not lying to you about where I go. I have a lot of projects, and I’m helping–”

“I know. I know. Helping, helping, helping. Fingers in a lot of pies.” George puts up an honorable fight against the wetness in his voice, still furiously wiping his tears. The skin under his eyes has turned an irritated pink. “But why? Why do you have to do so much? You’re my knight. I’m your king. You should be with me.”

George has a way of shooting arrows straight through him. Dream rubs his eyes as the words dig into his gut. His voice sounds defeated already. “I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Dream. Like, I– I just don’t understand…”

“Yeah, you don’t.” His voice breaks and turns quiet halfway through, like he could’ve softened the blow. He doesn’t know why he said that. He’s just tired of this same argument, over and over. It’ll be over soon. So soon. He wishes George would just believe him.

George’s expression screws into desperation, fingers digging into his pillow. “Then tell me! Just, tell me, Dream. I’m not– stupid, I can understand things. I’m not stupid.”

It’s not that Dream is angry. It’s just that he’s tired beyond tired and this is the only time of the day he doesn’t have to wear his armor. The one room where nothing else matters but the people who occupy it. He burrows his head in his hands.

“Why don’t you trust me, Dream? Did I do something wrong?”

“Why don’t you trust me? Why don’t you just–”

“Because I can’t even trust you to keep a super simple promise! I’m– you can’t expect me to just, like, be fine with never getting to see you.”

“Well maybe if you tried to be king even a little bit, I wouldn’t have to go do all your shit for you.”

George damn near barks, sharp and angry. Dream watches his mouth form the beginning of a thousand different sentences, hands clenching into fists before his expression breaks entirely. His angry grimace turns into a quivering frown, eyes wet with fear, voice pitched and tight.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Dream feels like he’s swallowed a bucket of ice. His back straightens as he shoots up. Instantly, he regrets antagonizing him. He doesn’t know why he said that. He’s lined with dog teeth.

“No! What? Absolutely not.” He wants to break the rules to touch him. So he does. His side stings as he leans to brush his fingers against George’s knuckles. “Never.”

Whatever angry force of nature George had been channeling before is dying now, Dream can see it fading in his eyes. Fading into some kind of relief. Maybe it was the reassurance, or the touch, but something is pacified.

“Did someone tell you that? Or make a joke?” He knows people don’t have many kind things to say about him these days. George picks at his cuticles, rocking slightly. Dream rocks with him a bit, too.

“No. I guess. Not really…” He sniffles. There’s a stiff silence. Dream searches his eyes, trying to read his mind. “I’m sorry. I’m just crazy.”

“What happened?”

“I just really wanted you to come home tonight. I stayed up.” George shrugs hopelessly, looking anywhere that isn’t Dream. “You have to understand from my perspective. I never see you, and then when I do see you you get into bed and start texting someone else. This isn’t the only time it’s happened.”

“It was just Punz,”

“I don’t care. I don’t care. Not, not my point.” George stresses, “you swore you’d be my knight but you don’t even. Knight. And I guess it’s whatever because I don’t really king either. But I… miss you. I miss you.”

Dream doesn’t know what to say. He opens and closes his mouth like an idiot fish, trying to find a way to comfort him but not make a promise he can’t keep. George waits for it. It never comes. They both feel it when the other gives up on a solution. Defeat on both sides.

They look at the sheets silently. Their knees rub together. Moonlight makes the room glow, lines the edges of George’s hair in silver.

His voice is small when he speaks next. “Where were you tonight?”

Dream was going to lie so he wouldn’t worry him, but. “I had some trouble with monsters. I got pinned down in the forest. I’m sorry.”

George scoffs. Somehow, Dream knows the frustration isn’t directed at him. “Oh my god. That’s not even your fault.”

“I don’t know. I could have texted you or something. I’m sorry I kept you up.”

George wipes his nose with the edge of his pillow. Dream would think it was gross if it was anyone else. “It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry I’m not around. I want to be. This, it’ll all be over soon. Things will settle down.”

“Does it have to be you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

George nods weakly. He knows he won’t get a better answer. Dream doesn’t have a better one to give him. He’s too tired.

“And you’re not cheating on me?”

“You are the prettiest thing in the whole world. I’d be an idiot.” He doesn’t know if flattery will get him far, but he can see the corners of George’s mouth flicker, and that’s enough. “You’re the only one that would put up with me anyway.”

“Why is your voice so messed up?” George lays his pillow back down on the bed. His legs unfold and he moves to lay back down. Dream wants to scoot closer, but thinks twice. There’s a moonbeam shining there. He doesn’t want George to see his legs.

“Screamed a lot.”

“Why?”

“Scaring people to cut their shit out.”

“Mmh.”

This is George’s script for end-of-day. It doesn’t have a lot of heart this time. Dream is realizing it never truly did. He feels bad. George lays his hand in the empty space, beckoning him to come forward or lay down. Dream doesn’t move. He sucks in a breath.

“Are you okay? Did… Dream, are you hurt?”

He’s an idiot for thinking he could keep it from George, of all people. But he didn’t want to worry him.

“Uh. Well, yeah. But it’s okay. I promise. I already treated it.” Dream knows this won’t work. He tries to lay down, legs twitching through the pain. George clocks it immediately, propping himself up on his forearms.

“Show me.”

It’s not a request. So, Dream does. He pulls his legs into the light in all their bruised glory. His foot, the one that was giving him the most trouble, is a far deeper shade of purple than he anticipated.

George runs his fingers over each bruise, marble white and cold as stone. His expression is stone. He must spot a hint of bandage from under Dream’s shirt, because his eyes flit from his bruises to his side, and Dream knows the jig is up.

“I promise it’s okay. I promise, George.” Not that his promises mean anything.

George must think so too. He ignores him in favor of gently pulling up his shirt, spying the blood soaked bandages wrapped around his middle. Dream hisses when the fabric of his shirt catches on the gauze. George frowns.

“Why would you let me just yell at you for being late? You should have told me.”

“To be fair. I was late.”

“To be fair. You were wounded. You literally got jumped.”

George gives it an apologetic look, tracing the blood stains with the tips of his fingers. Guilt doesn’t look good on him, but Dream doesn’t know how to fix it.

“Change those first thing when you wake up.” George sets his shirt back in place. He gently tugs on Dream’s neck to lay down. Nothing sounds better. “And don’t jump around and stuff.”

“I know.”

They curl up together, noses nearly pressing. It’s faint in the dark, but Dream can see the pitiable expression on his face. Thin, cold fingers come to rest on Dream’s jaw. Dream holds his hip in return. Equal and fair, reciprocated and even. George searches his eyes for an anchor, something to respond to. He just looks sadder and sadder as the minutes press on.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I just miss you.”

It’s hard for Dream to whisper back. “I miss y–u too.”

“Do you really?”

“This is my favorite part of the day. Getting to hold you. ‘N be held by you.”

The fingers on his jaw twitch. George’s thumbs cradle his face. Dream watches his face carefully. Though he knows every curve and edge and nasty imperfection of George’s being, it only hits him in moments like this just how much he has to protect. The whole world fits in the curve of his arms. The whole world has a kiss like a nine-volt battery and fury like a god. The whole world waits for him to come home every day, hoping he’s in one piece. Dream wonders if the world knows he’s trying to save it.

“I love you.” George whispers, barely tethered to the waking world. Maybe he realized he hadn’t said it when they were fighting, or after they decided to stop fighting. Maybe it's the last thing he thinks before going to sleep, and the first thing he thinks in the morning. Maybe it was coating the back of his throat like Dream’s guilt coats his, and he just had to tell him.

“I’m sorry.” Dream kisses him. “I love you.”

George falls asleep with tear tracks that have just barely dried. Dream wipes them away with his thumbs, admiring how peaceful he looks.

Dream sleeps like the dead, but wakes with the dawn no matter what. He lingers in the warmth for a while before the sun’s light is too much to bear. Properly waking up to pain first thing in the morning is beginning to be a more and more common occurrence. His legs pulse with every beat of his heart, and his side isn’t much better. There’s a few droplets of blood on the sheets, which is what finally gets him to untangle himself from the mess of limbs that snaked around him in the night.

George stirs lightly, but it’s unlikely he’ll truly wake before eight. Dream gently tugs at the arms around his neck, and they retract with a sleepy, confused mumble.

“I have to change these bandages.” Dream whispers against his temple.

George makes an agreeable noise before moving to hug his pillow instead. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Dream spends the morning planning his mental itinerary. But also, redressing his wounds, and trying to figure out what to do with his legs. Salve, maybe. A healing potion, but he’s running low and wants to save them for an emergency. Besides, he took a few sips when it happened. It should be fine.

He’s supposed to get up now and meet with Punz. And then work on the book, and then go here and do this, and patrol that. But his legs just won’t move.

He thinks, maybe for one day, he can spend it doing nothing. Besides, he actually is wounded. He does need to recoup. It’s not an excuse, yeah?

He wants to make it up to George. He’s not much of a romantic, and really he sucks shit at being a boyfriend, but he knows one thing that always makes George smile. The big toothy kind that makes his cheeks pink. He wants to see it before he has to get back to work.

Dream leaves a note on his side of the bed telling him that when he wakes up he should go to the hill outside. The one with the big tree.

Dream hobbles himself to the florist. He hopes that with his mask and baggy clothes, Niki won’t notice his limping. A dozen red roses. By the time he’s gotten there and halfway back, he’s convinced himself he’s walked off his bruising.

Under the oak tree on the hill overlooking the castle, Dream spies a red cape blowing in the wind, and the glint of gold. The person faraway raises a hand over their eyes to peer, then uses his entire arm to wave at him hugely. It makes Dream laugh.

They hurry to meet each other. George just seems excited to see him, like he always seems to be, except late at night when he’s already too angry. George doesn’t leave the shade, but he holds out his hands for Dream to take so he can pull him up the hill. Dream gives him one arm, the other holding the bouquet behind his back.

“Wow. You’re actually in the sun. I never see that.”

“I got you something. I’m, uh, making it up to you.”

George pauses, wide eyed, trying to lean to see what’s behind his back.

“It’s not a puppy, right?”

“What? No. What? Why would I get you a puppy?” Dream keeps turning to keep him from seeing. He can feel his own smile cracking his face.

“I don’t know, I got scared! Now gimme.” George tries to blindly reach behind him. Dream grabs his wrist and pulls him close, wrapping an arm around his waist. George smiles at him smugly.

“Not even a thank you or anything?”

“I don’t know what it is yet, idiot. You haven’t given it to me.” George’s busy hands settle for pushing his mask up, instead. The breeze feels cool on the light layer of sweat that’s formed on his forehead. George smiles warmly at his face. It’s a smile Dream doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. But not the exact one he’s aiming for.

Dream’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Ohh, you want me to give it to you? Here? Outside??”

“Oh, shut up! Show me. I demand it. As your king.” He tilts his head regally, crown glinting in the light that’s casted through the leaves. Dream almost forgets they ever had a fight at all.

Dream pulls the flowers from behind his back and presses them to George’s chest. He tries to give him a smile with it, but knows it probably looks a bit forced. George doesn’t seem to notice at all, face erupting into a smile nearly immediately. The smile. Dream can’t help but stare.

Dream thinks this must be what sunbathing is meant to feel like.

“Dream! I love it. I looove it.” George hugs them close, still beaming. Dream thinks he understands religion. “What’s the occasion?”

“Huh? Oh. I’m sucking up.”

George laughs. Takes a brief break, then laughs again. “You’re so stupid.”

“I wanted to cheer you up.” Dream rubs his thumb on his side idly, soaking in the feeling.

“You derailed your whole day just to get me flowers?”

“Uhhh, well. I canceled my whole day to recover from my grievous wounds. My life threatening injuries. Oh no. “ Dream spins them a bit dramatically, just to make George laugh. There’s a few rose petals on the ground.

“Oh, you need someone to kiss it bett– wait, really?”

“Yeah, really. Hey, what was that you were offering just now?”

“You’re not doing anything today?”

Dream shakes his head. George’s face lights up.

“Stay!” He blurts, “You should stay. Stay here. With me. I’ll kiss the stupid boo-boos better.”

“I don’t have anywhere better to be.” Dream shrugs, casual, aloof. “And I like kisses. Sure.”

Unexpectedly, lips crash into his. All of George’s weight crashes into him, really. Arms snake around his neck, and he tries to support them both before he realizes George is trying to make them fall. He goes limp, letting George tackle him into the grass. George is still kissing him. He pulls Dream’s neck to the side, which Dream allows because he hadn’t realized they were on the edge of the hill.

He yells into George’s mouth as they go tumbling, wrapping his arms around George’s head to make sure he doesn’t hit it. Someone is laughing, maybe both of them, as they spin and spin and spin and leave a trail of petals behind.

The world finally comes to a stop with George cradled on top of him, gloved hand still covering the back of his head.

George sits up, looming over Dream’s face, laughing like the whole world is laughing with him. Dream might have gotten the wind knocked out of him. The sun is eclipsed by George’s hair, a halo hanging behind him. His actual crown has probably rolled further away, but neither of them can care about such stupid things when there’s so much in front of them.

Dream breaks the mirage to sit up and kiss him. Then kiss him again. There’s a buzzing in his back pocket, but it’s tomorrow’s problem.

Today, the world loves red roses and fits in the curve of his arms.

#c!dnf #my writing

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dumbdomb · 1 year ago

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Thanks for solidifying a place in my fantasies for shaving. Just getting out of a shower together and having them sit up on the counter for you. Spreading their legs and working the creme into the thick hair before kneeling down and getting so close as you begin to drag the razor across their skin, exposing that smooth delicate skin ever so slowly. Resting a cheek against their thigh so you can get the best angle to ensure they’re bare by the end of it all…

Then of course you gotta rub them down again, making sure you didn’t miss anything

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over twenty-five years of age to interact. 25+ only. You do not have my consent to "Like" this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

i think having them run me a nice, warm, relaxing bubble bath and helping me after sounds much better. letting them rub lotion everywhere before prepping me for a shave. watching their work as they worship my body, shaving my sensitive skin with the utmost care and attention. once finished, taking a break as i admire their skills and get dressed- admittedly only to be undressed again. but it's so wonderful to present myself to them all dressed up and feeling my best. showing off my hairless cunt in my loveliest lingerie. getting all of their attention on me, feeling every touch heightened. i love how soft it feels, how it glistens with my lube, and seeing the complete devotion and reverence in my partner. how they totally adore me... ✨️🪒

Read My Pinned BEFORE you interact! 25+ only.

NO: lurkers, likes only, inactive, empty, or blank blogs. DO NOT LIKE MY CONTENT. DNI. ♥️

#anon my beloved #answered #shaving kink #dom bottom #sub top #service top #stone top #pillow princess #worship me #worship my 🍑

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waltwhitmansbeard · 1 year ago

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45. Realization of feelings at the Worst Possible Moment

Ooh boy, that could apply to practically all the CR ships.

You know what? Surprise me.

45. Realization of feelings at the Worst Possible Moment setting this in vamp machina. it directly precedes this.

She's a vampire. Of course she is. Vex'ahlia is a vampire and Percy is the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. Gods forbid he know a single moment of peace. Gods forbid anything in his life be uncomplicated.

This next bit is uncomplicated, though. The next bit is simple: slay the vampire. This is what he's been doing his entire adult life. Identify the threat, neutralize it. Quick, easy, utterly uncomplicated. He pats the inner pocket of his jacket; the stake is there, where it always is.

He's halfway between his place and hers, and as he walks, strides long and quick, he doesn't think about what he left behind. He doesn't replay the memory of tears streaming thick down Keyleth's cheeks, doesn't remember the tremble of her chin as she stumbles through her desperate apology. If he thinks about Keyleth, his best friend, letting a monster tear her open and drain her blood like it didn't matter, then the stake might just end up in his own heart.

Instead he makes the mental leaps, over and over and over. Keyleth is seeing Vax. Vax is a vampire. Vax's twin is Vex. These are all facts Percy knows to be true. More facts he knows to be true: Vax and Vex still look as identical as fraternal twins can look. Vex's skin, while soft, smooth, supple, has never been warm to the touch. Vex's favorite thing to do, when they are a tangle of limbs and sweat beneath her silky sheets, is bury her nose into the crook of his neck, where his blood still churns from her expert ministrations. Percy has never seen Vex under the light of the sun.

Dumbest motherfucker. On the planet.

He's less than a block away from her apartment now. The stake feels like an anchor in his pocket. His heart pounds erratically in his throat, and he can't figure out why. So what, she's a vampire? So what, he'll be killing her in less than five minutes' time? This is what he does. It doesn't mean anything, because it can't mean anything.

So why is he a hair's breadth away from crying?

He comes to a halt on the sidewalk, nearly causing a pile-up among the other pedestrians, who shoot him annoyed looks he barely registers. Why is he a hair's breadth away from crying? Why does the though of driving this stake through Vex's heart make him want to peel his skin off, inch by inch? They're fucking. They fuck. Their sexual compatibility is off the charts, and sure, Percy can't imagine ever having anyone else in his bed again, but it's not like it's a real loss, it's not like he lo—

His heart stops. Holy shit. He's in love with her. Not just lust, not just companionship, love. He loves the way she laughs, loves the razor-sharp accuracy of her wit, loves the music she plays when she's soaking in the tub, surrounded by rose petals and bubbles the size of his fist. He loves falling asleep next to her and waking up next to her and seeing her bury her face into his pillow as he sneaks out before dawn. He can't imagine ever having anyone else in his bed again because he doesn't want his bed, he wants theirs. He wants her every thought on every subject, wants to write them down in leatherbound tomes and reference them like a scholar in the subject of her. He is utterly, completely, hopelessly in love with her, and now he's standing here, ten feet away from her stoop, and his fingers twitch up toward the stake in his jacket pocket.

He stares at her front door. The last time he walked through it, his bones felt like jelly and the smile on his face was stupid, bright. For fuck's sake, he's been in love with her for months. What a thing to realize right before he plunges this stake between her ribs.

Because he's going to do it. That's the thing that's going to kill him. He forces his legs to move, one joint after the other, and as he stomps up the few steps of her stoop, he knows that he's going to do it. He hits her buzzer, and when she drawls, "Hello?" he can barely choke out her name. It is torture, the way she sighs, "Percival," the swiftness with which she grants him entry.

He has three flights of stairs to get his head on straight. During each one, he convinces himself to do it, over and over and over. Quick, easy, uncomplicated. Slay the monster. Save the world.

He is at her door too fast, not fast enough. He knocks. She opens. She looks like heaven, like hell, like the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. "I didn't expect to see you so soo—"

Her eyes fall onto the stake, now gripped with white knuckles at his side. The recognition comes lightning-quick; she always was so much smarter than him. For a moment, her face is impassable, and he'd give anything to know what she's thinking. Whatever he could have guessed, he'd be wrong, because in no world would he predict a smile, curling and hot, like smoke. She meets his eyes again, her expression a mystery he'll never be clever enough to solve. She steps back, opening the door wider. "Why don't you come on in?"

#happy halloween!! have a disaster percy and his vampire love #ask #tiamat-zx #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #critical role au #cr au #vox machina #vox machina au #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #perc'ahlia au #my fic #vamp machina au

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meetmyothersouls · 2 years ago

Text

Darling Death

A collaboration with @sufferingstarlight

Warnings: nightmares (in detail), passionate sex/love making, underworld scene, violence, not proofread

Chapter 9 - Day 10

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

I'm the bathroom, getting ready for something, work maybe? I'm not sure, I can't quite tell. What day is it? What time is it? I pick up my toothbrush, then my toothpaste and squeeze out a splat of reddish glossy paste. I put it in my mouth. It's spicy. Cinnamon flavored? I'm scrubbing my teeth in small deliberate circles, the way the dentist tells you to brush when you're a little kid, but you always ignore because it's easier to just brush side to side or up and down. But I'm really getting in there. I feel the bristles between my teeth, poking my gums and clearing debris. This must be a new toothbrush even though I don't remember replacing it. Timothee enters the bathroom and I smile as his shirtless form presses up against my back. There's something odd about him. Different. He plasters a dark grin onto his face before he turns off the light. I feel myself smiling in the darkness, waiting for him to turn the light back on but he never does. I reach behind me and flip the switch. He's gone. Huh. I turn back around horrified at what I see in the mirror. What would normally be whitish toothpasty foam is thick, red, viscous liquid dribbling from my mouth, puddling on the counter and dripping down the cabinets. Blood. The drips hit the floor and they sound like the ticking of a clock. Tick-tock-tick-tock. I pull the toothbrush from my mouth, noticing the handle isn't that of a toothbrush at all. It's my razor. I drop it, my mouth falls open as loose pieces of flesh hang inside my-

I gasped, jolting upright in my bed. My body soaked with sweat, my heart pounding. I leaned over in my bed, attempting to catch my breath while I check the time on my phone. 3:13 AM. Day ten.

"Those nightmares are something else," Timothee said, startling me.

"Fucking hell, Timothee, you scared the shit out of me! And what are you talking about? How do you know what I'm dreaming about?"

Timothee sat on the foot of my bed, apparently waiting for me to wake up. He turned around and crawled up the expanse of my mattress, and once he arrived next to me, took one of his large, freezing cold hands and placed it on my forehead.

"Gods, you're on fire, y/n," he said, raking his fingers through my damp hair, pulling it out of my face. His temperature and closeness automatically cooling me down and relaxing me. "And I think you're forgetting: your boyfriend is also your personal reaper. I know everything about you. And now that you're closer to your supposed death date, I can see your dreams or in this case, nightmares. And that one was fucked up."

Boyfriend.

My stomach somersaulted in the best way possible, until I registered what he said.

"Wait. Wait. You can see the dreams of the people you reap?"

He sighed, like it was more of a burden than a cool ability. "Yeah, I can. You see, when a person gets closer and closer to death, they begin having dreams or nightmares, part of my job is the analyze these dreams...or nightmares and take note of what they contain."

Interested, I sit up and cross my legs on my mattress, like an a child being told a fairytale for the first time. I prod him for more answers. "What's so important about the dreams? Who do you report these findings to?"

Timothee sighed again, laying his back flat on my mattress. The moonlight shone on his face in a way that made him look more like an angel than a Grim Reaper and it was in that moment that I realized how tired he looked. Tired eyes. The circles that were always there appeared a bit darker. But I thought reapers didn't need sleep? He definitely looked like he could use a nap, but I didn't voice my discovery.

"It's important," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts, "because it is said that when one is close to death, the psychology of their dreams begin to change."

I think back to the nightmare I just had. It was definitely different than anything I'd ever experienced before and the day before I had that dream where-

"Like the one where your teeth fell out," Timothee said, as if reading my mind.

"Okayy, the dream thing is weird, and I don't like it."

Timothee gave me a smile that didn't quite reach is eyes. There was something off about him, something distant that I couldn't quite place.

"And so, do you have a boss that you present these findings to?" I ask, changing the subject. I cuddled into his side, resting my head on his chest, sliding a hand under his black t-shirt.

"I do, actually. Death. Death is my boss. And they expect daily reports. If you ever can't find me, that's where I am."

"Huh," I said, wondering when the last time he went to visit his boss. He hadn't left my side much lately, watching over me to make sure my demise wasn't premature...among other things. "Does your boss know about your plan to keep me alive?"

Timothee was silent for a moment, a long one. Until finally, he turned on his side, facing me in my bed. "Don't worry about things like that."

"Why not?"

Timothee grinned, this time it reached his eyes, they crinkled adorably at the corners. He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine and opened his mouth slightly, as if he was preparing for a kiss, but not quite ready to give it away. "You ask so-" he stopped, finally pressing a small gentle kiss to my lips "-so many questions, y/n, darling."

"I'm a curious person," I admitted. "Speaking of questions. I do have another."

"Mmm?" Timothee mumbled, readying himself for another kiss. I climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. I could feel him ready for me underneath my pajama shorts. I leaned down to kiss him, not quite deepening it yet.

"How many others have you been with?" I ask once we break away from each other.

Timothee arched an eyebrow, but took the question in, really giving it thought. "I suppose there were others," he said, his hands moved, resting on my hips. I'm not sure what kind of answer I was expecting from him and I'm not sure whether or not I'm pleased with the one he gave me. "In a previous lifetime. I cannot remember their names or their faces. But I'd like to think that they were all you."

"Me?" I say, unable to stop myself.

"You," he says. "In previous lifetimes." And maybe, in that moment he saw that I wasn't overly satisfied with his answer or maybe he was still thinking, but he kept talking. "I'm not sure, y/n. I'm not sure what my life consisted of before this. Before being a reaper. There are vague details I can pull here and there. Like my name. I know I was called Timothee, but it wasn't until I saw you that I was able to recollect even that. And then there is one glaring thing about you. The thing about you that transcends through time and space. The thing that...even if were presented to me in a different era of time, in a different body, through different eyes that is unmistakably you."

"What is it?" I whispered, barely audible.

Gracefully and effortlessly, he flipped me onto my back, hovering over me. He pulled his shirt over his head. I lifted my back off the mattress so he could remove mine, then my shorts, leaving me completely naked under him. At this point, we'd had many sexual encounters and we'd had sex dozens of times. But this felt different. A different energy. A different charge. This felt important. Life changing.

"Your soul," Timothee said, looking so deeply into my eyes, I thought for sure he'd be able to see directly into it. "You could live a thousand lives and die a thousand times, but your soul would stay the same. Your soul lives on whether you want it to or not. And if I've ever fallen in love with anyone before you...before right now. It was because it was your soul that was in them to begin with."

Even though I searched for them, there were no words to communicate the love I felt for him in that moment. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck and pulled his face to mine. My lips found his and we kissed, and much like the energy, there was something different about this kiss. This was kiss was like stepping into the ocean at night. Like dipping your feet into the ice-cold water, not seeing but feeling when the waves pulled back. The feeling of the sand shifting underneath your feet. Like you're about to fall but your completely stationary.

Then, Timothee pulled away, looking back at me like a sudden realization had dawned on him. He was already breathless, his mouth hanging open slightly. He leaned down, pressing his face into my neck and breathed deep. He left sweet, small kisses along my neck until he reached my lips again. His eyes found mine before he spoke.

"I can no longer stop myself from loving you," he whispered, his lips grazing mine with each word.

"Then don't."

He was inside of me the moment the words left my lips. And it was with such gentle, loving care that he filled me. Kissing me with each thrust in and out. Our bodies, rubbing against each other like finest satin. There was a tenderness in his touch. Like we had all the time in the world. He ran his hand along my thigh, then my stomach, caressed my breast, squeezing gently enough to make me moan his name and tell him how much I loved him. There wasn't one inch of skin that he left unkissed. His arms wrapped around my body, my legs falling open wider at his touch. It was as if he didn't want to just fuck me, but fully merge into me. Become one with me.

He said my name over and over again, whispered in my ear, against my skin as he kissed me everywhere.

"I love you."

Countless times, both of us losing track of how many times it was actually said. Not caring about the time, even as the sun came up and painted my walls a golden hue. He made love until we both reached a simultaneous orgasm and then again and again until our bodies stuck together and glistened with a mixture of sweat, spit and come.

"I love you, Timothee."

"I love you, too, Y/n."

Timothee's POV

I'm weak and drifting in and out of worlds by the time we're both sated of all our sexual desires. I'd been resisting the pull to the Underworld for a few days now, refusing to update Death on the status of y/n's demise.

She'd started having the nightmares. It wasn't a shock. It was the natural cycle of things. I was just hoping it wouldn't start so soon. Just another reminder of what was to come. There were three more days until I'd have to do what I'd never done before. Stop Death from claiming her. It was unprecedented. I'd never heard of anyone interfering in such a way as this.

I resisted the pull until I knew she's fully asleep, then I let it happen. I'm sucked into the Underworld, like a swirling vortex of nothingness I forgot how much I hated. When I arrive, it's not graceful. I fall on my ass, skidding across the stoney ground that is Death's lair.

"Thirteen," a booming, earth shattering voice calls.

I step up to Death, thankful I put all my clothes back on before the pull became too strong.

"Miss me?" I joke, immediately regretting my decision.

I heard the painful gust of wind before I felt it pierce my chest and blow me across Death's lair. My back slammed against the back wall and held me there as he climbed off of his throne. I groan, barely able to breath as Death took slow agonizing steps towards me. His arm raised in the air, holding me against the wall. At that point, my legs pathetically and involuntarily kick, desperately attempting to gain both traction and airflow.

Finally, he let go, the invisible grip instantly loosening. I gasped for air that's almost immediately ripped from my lungs again as he slammed his arm down, throwing me back onto the ground. The rock cracked as my body hits it and Death crouched down making menacing eye contact with me. I stay laying on the ground like a scared puppy, weak from many days in the Upperworld, all the sex and being thrown around like a rag doll.

"Tell me Thirteen," Death sneers, "are you having fun up there?"

"I gotta say, boss, it's better than this bullshit."

Death let out a dark chuckle, one that shook even me to my very core.

"And the girl."

"Y/n," I can't help but correct.

Death gracefully stands, pacing the floor in front of me, I stay on the ground.

"Right, yes. I can't help but notice you've missed the last-" Death checks an imaginary watch "three check ins. You're usually so prompt, so in check with yourself, Thirteen. You haven't lost focus of the goal here, have you?"

I must take a second too long to respond, because his fist is wrapped around the collar of my shirt, I'm in the air and he's in my face before I've opened my mouth. "Don't think I don't know what's going on. You have a goal. And one goal only. See out the mortal's death and bring me the soul. Unless you need me to do it for you. Hmm?"

"NO! No! I've got it under control, sir. Trust me."

"Perhaps I should reassign you. Ten can take the girl and you can take over Ten's assignment."

"Sir, that won't be necessary. I've got her dream report right here...if I may."

He nodded and I retrieved the list of most recent dreams y/n had been having. Death yanked it out of my hand and I watched as his dark eyes skimmed the paper.

"Very well," he said, seemingly satisfied. He dropped me and I fall yet again with an ugly thud. "You are to stay in the Underworld tonight. Report back to your assignment tomorrow."

I do my best at hiding my disappointment, knowing how upset y/n will be to find me gone when she wakes up. I turned to exit Death's lair and decided to add one more thing.

"She's different, you know."

His dark eyes snap up at me and for second I begun to think I had made a grave mistake. For a second I wished I could pop back into the upperworld.

"She's marked. She's got a Death Mark."

I watched as his face dropped, temporarily shocked by my words, but he quickly masked it. "A soul is a soul, Thirteen. And her soul is on the docket."

I turned my sore body, wanting desperately to get back into y/n's bed. Grim don't need sleep, but I had never so desperately felt the need to try.

"You've a lot at stake, Thirteen. A lot to lose. Remember that." I heard him say as I walked out.

"Death doesn't make exceptions."

This has been a sufferingsouls production

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @roseboysareprettier @onlyenoughiamweird

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #writing #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #smut #dark!timothee #darling death #sufferingstarlight

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emblematicemblazer · 1 year ago

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World building and theories of Engage

Alcryst's fashion

Alcryst's name is an anagram of crystal. Crystal comes from the Greek 'krystallos' meaning ice. It helps symbolise the balance of elements between the two brothers. Diamant is the sun/day/fire and Alcryst is the moon/night/ice. One is incomplete without the other half. Crystal is sometimes used to simulate diamond and is not as rare or as valuable, despite this crystal can still glisten and shine and can have a unique beauty of its own. Crystal can be reflective, personality wise, Alcryst reflects the good of everyone he meets. He sees the best in them, their kindness and their brilliance, even if he doesn't believe that he shines himself. Crystal is transparent, Alcryst shares that transparency, he wears his emotions on his sleeve.

Alcryst wears armour which is inspired by his father. The vambraces of plate armour and leather straps have a similar spike shape and are shaped to his slim profile. Unlike his father he does not have elbow defences, that is because his primary weapon is a bow. The lack of elbow defences allow him to draw without interference. One arm is completely uncovered for the same reason. Just like his father and his brother he adorns schynbalds over his legs, held in place with leather straps. The design features red Celtic symmetrical markings similar to his brother and an edgier spiky shape. The colour of the metal is different from his father and brother and seems to be pewter or a dirty, darker silver grey.

Both Alcryst and Diamant wear a light and flexible waistcoat known as a 'jack' or a 'brigandean'. The design in the jack matches his brother's and could be the family tartan design. This tartan would be recognisable across Brodia as symbolising members of the royal family. The high neckline protects his neck from being slashed.

His neckline features a cravat, which has multiple functions. It is a symbol that he is a gentleman of the nobility, it hides any food or bloodstains on the front of his waistcoat and can serve as a napkin or bandage.

Over his schynbalds he wears a skirt cape. The thick fabric serves as protection for his exposed bottom and the back of his legs. A full length shoulder cloak would get in the way of his archery.

In his hair he wears a razor blade style hair clip. The obvious reason to wear a hair clip is to keep the hair out of the way so he can see. There is another practical use, razor blades can be used to create arrowheads. If Alcryst runs low on ammo, he can fletch a few arrows. I also believe it is a symbol of his pessimism and depression. He verbally self harms himself and cuts his personality apart.

He Alcryst upgrades to his unique class; tireur et elite, his silver findings upgrade to gold, just like his brother. He replaced his hair clip with a variant of the royal crown. It features the same red gem and cornes that the King's crown does but has added tassels. The crown is worn at an angle, almost like a wonky halo and I believe this is a symbol of his imperfection compared to Diamant, (his brother and father wear the crown straight), and his uniqueness. From a cape skirt he upgraded to a full length cloak for greater protection from the elements and to display his royal standing. The armour gains fur for greater comfort and warmth. His trousers have become mesh tights to enable movement and protect his legs.

His casual wear is similar to his brother's. They wear matching jackets, shirts and trousers in a brown shade. Alcryst's waistcoat is a dark turquoise blue shade whereas his brother's is red. Instead of wearing red boots like his brother, he adorned calf high boots in a neutral shade. The higher boots could protect his lower legs when he bows. Another difference to his brother's clothing is the fit. Diamant's clothing is a tighter, snug fit to his more muscular frame whereas Alcryst wears his garments with a looser fit on his slender frame.

#fire emblem engage #fe engage #fe alcryst

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 2 years ago

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Character Profile Full name: Mitsuri Ashido-Sero

Pronunciation: Mit-zuri ASH-i-do se.ro

Meaning of Name: Mitsuri means "honey"

Hero/Villain Name: Bubble Gum

Nicknames: Honey-Bun, Suri, Mitsi

History of Nicknames: All gifted by her parents since birth so it kind of stuck

Nationality: Japanese-Hispanic

Quirk: Super-Glue: In which she can produce a large or small mass of a super sticky substance at will. When consuming it or letting it in your body system one way or another you will get negative effects such as headaches and stomach problems like when you eat real glue

Birthday and Astrology Sign: June 10th 21XX, Gemini

Age: 14

How old do they look: 14-16 Gender: Femimine Enby (she/they)

Orientation/Sexuality Preference: Pansexual

Birth date: June 10th

Birth place: Tokyo, Japan

Appearance: Eye color: Dark golden yellow with the right eye having a blackness instead of a normal eye

Eye shape: Round and wide

Do they wear contacts or glasses?: None Hair: Short curly dark pink hair

Height: 5'2

Weight: 90 lbs

Body build: Slightly chubby yet fit

Body shape: pear

Complexion: A ashy light pink

Cup size: D

Blood Type: AB

Handedness: Right handed

Hand type: Gentle hands

Nails: Short and clean with paint

Movement: Very flowy and bubbly

How do they walk: Very bubbly with a hop on her steps with her arms swinging

Posture: Straight and respectful

Flexibility: Decent

Speech Mannerisms: Tends to say "uh" a lot when she talks fast

Scars: None

Birthmarks: None

Piercings: Three on each ear

Tattoos: None

General face structure: Very cute with steady bone stricter like her mother but slightly sharper

Defining physical traits: Her horns and eye

Clothing: Uniform: She wears the UA girl uniform with pink or orange leg warmers over her socks and any bright jewelry

Casual outfit: A bright pink sweater dress with pastel blue leggings and white high heeled boots that reach her knees

Preferred outfit: NA

Hero/Villain costume: A semi tight sleeveless black dress that short in shorts that reach her mid thigh instead, neon pink leggings and skin tight deep scoop cut orange finger-less glove top underneath, a pair of black giggles over her eyes with a white razor tipped mouth mask under covering the rest of her face,

Equipment / Support Items: None

Characteristics:

Personality: VERY much her parents, bubbly and bright and full of energy and love

Big Five personality traits: Sweet, loyal, adorkable, bubbly, friendly

Most prominent personality trait: Bubbly

Best traits: Sweet, bubbly, kind, the life of the social butterfly party

Worst traits: Giddy, "naive", annoying

Likes: Dancing, singing, amusement parks, pools, gel pens, glitter, watching her parents work, painting, strawberry cake, Hachi Kaminari Dislikes: When she gets her glue in her hair (which is why it's usually cut now), being called "slim girl", being called fat

Quirks: (not the superpower but little silly things they do) She randomly starts singing to brighten to mood of others, drums her pens and pencils where ever, if she runs out of room to doodle in her notebooks she will steal someone elses to draw, she bounces around when she's real happy Fear: Not having friends

Hobbies: Painting, dancing, singing

Skills/Talents: Brightening someone's mood, good at painting

Strengths: Fast runner Weaknesses: Too much use of her Quirk could result in her being in a cocoon for a while depends how much she used and how thick the cocoon's walls were

Reason to keep on living: Her family and friends

What is their self-image like: She's very proud of her looks

Coping mechanisms: She will take her mom's old hero costume and her dad's shirt and curl up on the bed or couch listening to

Any life motto or quote they live by: "Life is gonna suck, that much we can all agree on, but why do we have to turn off the music or take away colors over one sad thing?"

Favorite things: All colors, puppies, kittens, bunnies, daisies, strawberry cake, the sound of music, love

Health:

Physical: Though chubby healthy as can be

Mental: Though has slight anxiety it's good

Emotional Stability: Pretty highly emotional and has slight anxiety but besides that good

If faced with crisis, what is their go-to: Screams and flights but goes to get help if that doesn't help

Nutrition: A bit uneven but normal

Habits: She chews her nails

History, Background, and Future:

0-4: Born in Tokyo Japan she lived her life pretty spoiled and loved deeply as a very happy and bubbly baby

5-8: She proved to be much of a social butterfly in her early school years and already came up with the dream to make others happy

9-11: By 10 her parents announced the pregnancy of her little brother Akio and started her life as a happy big sister with her besties beside her Got her Quirk during one Christmas break resulting in a funny mess

12-14: Developed a crush on Hachi Kaminari through their friendship and day dreams about marrying him and becoming a UA student to get her goal in check on becoming someone who makes everyone happy

15-Present: Got accepted to UA and live at home with her now five year old brother

Did they like their upbringing: She loves it

How has their upbringing shape them: Very proud and bubbly

What did they enjoy most about their childhood?: The times with her family having fun at an amusement park

What did they hate most about their childhood?: NA

Current Dream: Study hard and become someone who can protect and make others smile and be happy

Long-term goals for Future: Get married to someone who she loves and she loves back while becoming a person to make everyone around the world happy

Home: She lives in a apartment near campus right in the same building as Rose's family

Home Life as a Kid: Full of love and fun

Home Life Now: Supportive and loving

Quick Family background: Any Friends: Kohaku Usagiyama, Rose Takami, Zora Midoriya, Yuzuriha Midyoria, Tsuki Bakugo, Hoshiko Bakugo, Arashi Jiro-Yaoyorozu, Chiharu Jiro-Yaoyorozu, Hachi Kaminari, Gou Iida, Sakura Todoroki, Hiiragi Monoma Any Family: Mina Ashido (mom), Hanta Sero (dad), Akio (little brother)

#my hero academia #mha oc #mha next gen #my art

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oiledlaser · 2 months ago

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Achieving Smooth, Hair-Free Skin with Permanent Laser Hair Removal

Unwanted body hair can be a persistent challenge, especially when traditional hair removal methods like shaving, waxing, and depilatory creams offer only short-term results. These methods can be time-consuming, irritating to the skin, and expensive over time, leading more and more people to look for a lasting solution. Laser hair removal has become one of the most popular methods for achieving smooth, hair-free skin, providing a permanent laser hair removal and a significant improvement in skin texture. Here’s a closer look at how laser hair removal works, what makes it an ideal choice for lasting results, and what to expect when considering this treatment.

Laser hair removal is a cosmetic procedure that uses concentrated light energy to target hair follicles, inhibiting their ability to grow new hair. The process relies on laser technology that emits a specific wavelength of light absorbed by the pigment in the hair. This energy converts to heat, which damages the follicle at its root without affecting the surrounding skin. When done consistently over several sessions, laser hair removal can lead to a substantial reduction in hair growth, with many clients experiencing long-lasting results. Unlike traditional methods, laser treatments are effective in slowing hair regrowth, with many people seeing permanent results.

This procedure is versatile and can treat nearly any area of the body where unwanted hair grows. Popular areas for laser hair removal include the legs, underarms, bikini area, upper lip, chin, and back. The precision of laser technology allows practitioners to target small areas with exceptional accuracy, making it suitable for delicate facial zones. For larger areas, such as the back or legs, laser technology allows for quick, efficient sessions that cover extensive surface areas. Additionally, advances in laser technology now enable treatment for a wide range of skin tones and hair colors, making it more accessible and effective than ever before.

A key advantage of laser hair removal over traditional hair removal methods is the significant reduction in skin irritation. Shaving often leads to razor burn, ingrown hairs, and cuts, while waxing and depilatory creams can cause skin sensitivity and even rashes. In contrast, Laser Hair Removal Las Vegas Cost is a non-invasive procedure that, when performed by trained professionals, minimizes these common issues. Side effects, if any, are usually mild, with most clients experiencing only slight redness or temporary sensitivity, which fades within a few hours.

For best results, laser hair removal typically requires multiple sessions because hair grows in cycles. Laser treatments target hair during the active growth phase, or anagen phase, when the hair is most susceptible to the laser’s energy. However, since not all hairs are in the anagen phase simultaneously, multiple sessions spaced a few weeks apart are necessary to treat each follicle effectively. The exact number of sessions varies by individual and depends on factors like hair thickness, skin tone, and the treatment area, but most people see significant improvement after four to six sessions.

The permanence of laser hair removal comes from the way it affects the hair follicle over time. As the follicle repeatedly absorbs laser energy, it becomes less capable of producing new hair, leading to finer and sparser regrowth. After completing the full series of treatments, many people experience what feels like permanent hair removal, as remaining hair growth is minimal and much less noticeable. While some individuals may require maintenance treatments every year or so to touch up any residual growth, laser hair removal offers a significant and lasting reduction in unwanted hair compared to temporary methods.

When preparing for laser hair removal, there are a few pre-treatment steps to keep in mind. Clients are advised to avoid sun exposure, tanning, and certain skincare products containing retinoids or glycolic acid in the weeks leading up to the treatment. Shaving the treatment area before the appointment is also recommended, as it allows the laser to reach the follicle without singeing surface hair. Waxing, plucking, or using depilatory creams, however, should be avoided, as these methods remove the hair from the follicle, reducing the effectiveness of the laser.

During a laser hair removal session, a trained technician will use a handheld device that emits laser energy to the targeted area. Clients typically wear protective eyewear to shield their eyes from the laser, and a cooling gel or device may be applied to the skin for added comfort. The sensation of laser hair removal varies depending on personal sensitivity and the treatment area, but it is often described as a slight tingling or snapping feeling. Advanced laser systems include cooling mechanisms to further minimize discomfort and protect the skin.

After a session, post-treatment care is straightforward and requires only a few steps to ensure the best results. Clients should avoid sun exposure for a few weeks, as treated skin can be more sensitive to UV rays. Using a high-SPF sunscreen, wearing protective clothing, and avoiding direct sunlight on treated areas will help prevent potential pigmentation changes. Moisturizing and gently cleansing the area is also recommended to maintain skin health and comfort.

One of the most attractive aspects of laser hair removal is the confidence and convenience it offers. Imagine no longer having to schedule regular waxing appointments or set aside time for daily shaving routines. Beyond the practical benefits, laser hair removal also improves skin texture, leaving it smoother and more even in tone. This is particularly advantageous for people who struggle with ingrown hairs or razor bumps, as the procedure minimizes the risks of these common issues. For those looking to streamline their self-care routines and enjoy lasting smoothness, laser hair removal provides a reliable solution.

Cost-effectiveness is another benefit that clients appreciate over time. Although laser hair removal may involve higher upfront costs than other methods, the long-lasting results mean fewer expenses in the future on razors, waxing sessions, or depilatory creams. This makes laser hair removal a smart investment for those seeking a permanent reduction in unwanted hair, especially when factoring in the time saved and the improved quality of life.

Permanent laser hair removal offers a safe, effective way to reduce or eliminate unwanted body and facial hair, and it provides a significant advantage over temporary methods. By working with trained professionals and following a consistent treatment schedule, you can achieve smooth, hair-free skin and enjoy a significant improvement in your overall skin quality. Whether you’re looking to simplify your self-care routine or enhance your confidence, laser hair removal can be the perfect solution for long-lasting smoothness and convenience.

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