#but i struggled to write this one

[ravenrambles6229]

chapter 18 soon

[eatmyson]

this one's inspired by @cringefailvox's time has changed the metaphor!

It was such a good read and I couldn't stop thinking about these three ever since.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[shinynewmemories]

Listen to me Suzanne Collins did not have to give Katniss and Peeta a history before the games. She did NOT have to do that. She could have just had their story begin when Peeta's name was called. She could have had them be total strangers until the moment of the reaping.

Like: "And the boy tribute is... Peeta Mellark!" Katniss: Who's that? Or she could have made them vaguely familiar with each other! Peeta's name is called and Katniss just thinks, Oh, I know that name! He's in my class, actually. Poor boy... Anyway!

Either way, SC could have written the rest of the story exactly the same! I think many authors would have done that! Because if Peeta's purpose in the book was to be Gale's competition, to be one of the 3 corners of a love triangle, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE WAY TO DO IT!! But that's NOT how she did it because that's NOT what Peeta is.

And what is he? To Katniss, Peeta's someone who saved her and her family and received nothing in return except a beating. Peeta's someone she has had her eye on but has never worked up the courage to talk to. Peeta's someone she associates with kindness and hope. And all this before the start of the events of the book! Just because WE, the READERS, met Gale before Peeta and immediately felt a connection with him does NOT mean that was Katniss's experience! And that's what SC is trying to tell us!

To dismiss Katniss and Peeta's past as unimportant or inconsequential compared to whatever Katniss and Gale have in the present is to fundamentally misunderstand Katniss as a character and, as a result, condemn oneself to never fully understand the choices she makes in the future.

Suzanne Collins wrote it that way on purpose because she had something to say. And no one will ever be able to convince me that something wasn't "It was always going to be Peeta".

[mikonez]

going places, doing things, pining on the passenger seat

[deerspherestudios]

HI! TYSM FOR ANSWERING MY LAST QUESTION, it honestly made me so so happy- BUT THIS ONE JUST POPPED INTO MY HEAD ! <3

Okay so...Laika is vidas dog, and I noticed Laika wears a galaxy-themed bandana around her neck, I'm wondering if this is a reference to the space dog Laika? If it is that is so adorable 😭😭 this honestly popped in my head and I can't get it out now-

If it wasn't obvious enough, yes!

It's very subtle but I meant it as a way to show Vida's fascination with space. I never answered what their major was, but I think they would've gone on to study astronomy.

Also their frisbee was based off this image from the Atacama Large Millimeter Array (ALMA) telescope. I just thought it was a neat pattern and slapped it on. Plus,,,, ALMA.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Whether it's long or short fic, doesn't matter. It's whatever you consider a normal story for yourself, as an author.

[lonely-night]

Happiest Season 2.0: Agathario Riley/Eve

Riley returned to her hometown for Christmas and she met Eve who's visiting the small town that she randomly picked on map. After bumping to each other a few times, Riley suggested to take Eve to a gay bar to see a drag performance.

[vaguely-concerned]

on the one hand I think inner demons could stand to have a bit more romanced rook specific content, but on the other hand the underlying in-built implication that 'yours is the one true voice of comfort and safety in my inner world' is a sentiment and intimacy so way beyond the romantic or the platonic or any secret third thing you could care to name that it makes me lose my entire poor little mind a bit. it's so big and fundamental — near-existential — that in that exact moment at least the distinctions kind of seem irrelevant.

all the people lucanis' mind conjures up along the way are relationships he has that are unavoidably mixed and fraught in some ways even when they're also full of love (they are fraught BECAUSE they're full of love) — the good in them inseparable from things that hurt him at the same time. (it's about: the basic disorganized attachment patterns this poor guy is dragging around with him. careful with those, they're dellamorte heirlooms. what you love also inevitably hurts you and you won't be allowed to have one without the other, you have to surrender parts of your soul to hold on to what little you have left: this is the story up until now.) and the idea that rook isn't that to him — that beneath the fear of wanting them when romanced (which is more its own separate thing because within this psychology, actively wanting something and not just clinging on for dear life to even a meager status quo lest you lose it is in itself dangerous bordering on catastrophic), this is a relationship where there isn't resentment, or guilt, or shame, or dread, or rage, or self-hate, or any of the other emotions that keep him paralyzed, unable to move this way or that. no debts, nothing owed of yourself and your soul's substance except what you can freely and safely and happily give. love and freedom don't coexist — but, I mean, you're almost starting to make me think........... unless...👀👀👀. the unconditional and undramatic 'you are here and I am here with you, you can be exactly how you are right now with me and it's safe for us both even though you're afraid it won't be, I'm not going anywhere' acceptance rook shows him here that he returns to them in the big romance scene, when it's rook who needs it. the way he's just. standing there in the center of it all, like a child desperately helplessly waiting to be found, hiding in the place he hopes you'll know to look first. (rook does know. it's one of the first things they say in there.)

in short the most important room in his little mind palace for the romance is the very first room — the one where rook isn't. where, in fact, rook cannot be, because they disprove the entire structure of the place with their existence and presence in his life. with everyone else he's putting words in their mouths about what they think of him, and rook is the one who actually gets to come in to speak their own words to him — and have him listen. ('he'll listen to you, he always listens to you', 'your voice is a comfort'.) of course rook isn't present anywhere else in there — at the risk of stating the obvious to a tedious degree, they aren't one of the locks, they're bringing the key. in the very finest 'the messenger and the message' sort of way.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yantober Day 3

Secret Collection [Yandere M. Hairdresser x Gn.Reader]

Using @ozzgin's Yantober prompt list!

Not my favorite and already way behind 😭Sorry for being gone for like, a week. I got kinda sick and then had to scramble to keep up with my new classes. I should be good for now, and I'll try to work through my asks and more of the yantober prompts for now.

Tipjar :)

Tw! Dead dove Do not Eat! MDNI! Stalking, non consensual photography, implied kidnapping, he's really weird, nsfw themes

Your hair stylist is just the best! He always knows how to keep you coming back almost every week...

1.5k words

Clover knows that what he does isn’t right.

He cuts your hair with diligent practice, every strand memorized with care and sweet tenderness. When your tresses lay by his shifting feet, it takes all within him not to cum on spot. Your scent drives him wild, and he knows that you’re the one for him after you come back a second time.

He collects your hair after he pretends to sweep it up and throw it out, rooting around the dustpan in the back of his storefront like a desperate, mangy animal. He lives just above his small, intimate salon, and he knows that if he can just get you to come up with him, that he can start getting you to fall for him. 

Discount for today only! 75% off hair dyeing, lashes, and nails! Hurry in!

He typed it out and bit his lip as he stared at his screen. There wasn’t any sale going on. Nobody but you was privy to this, of course. Months ago, when Clover first met you, he jumped on the chance to have your phone number. He rambled on and on about how it was standard for most of all his customers to punch it. You could earn points! And exclusive coupons! Of course he was just lying to you. He would just send out a few messages every week or so to try and bait you into coming back. 

Today, he was washing your hair, trying desperately to not whip out his dick and cum all over your sweet, vulnerable face. He ran his hands through your hair, massaging in shampoo and sneakily putting every stray strand of hair that caught on his fingers on a stray napkin. For later, he promises himself with a barely restrained smirk.

“[Name]...” He called softly, watching with affection as your face crinkled before you stared up at him. A shiver ran down his spine. Fuck. If he could have your eyes on him like that at all times, he could die a happy man. He finished up rinsing you off, humming under your attention. “I’m trying to earn my masseuse license… I’m thinking of expanding the services I offer,” He explained while he moved you to a sitting position and placed a towel at your neck. You blinked up at him curiously.

Yes. Just like that. Be lured in by what I can give you.

“More? But Clover,” You laughed, “You already have a lot of things you do here. Plus, it’s only you running this place most of the time,” Your voice was filled with playful ease. He bet that you wouldn’t know what he was doing even if he pressed his throbbing hard on to your lips right the second.

“I have employees, silly,” He teased, flicking a bit of water onto your face. You giggled and wiped it off. On days you had booked him, he would basically clear out his salon of any other customers or employees. He wanted it to just be the two of you, after all.

“Anyways, you know me. I’m always looking to expand my craft,” he hummed and led you over to the vanity chair, pumping up your seat so he was leaning over you jussst right. You couldn’t see the large tent in his pants in the mirror, but he sighed happily. Oh, your neck felt so delicate underneath his fingers. He could feel your pulse thrumming. He would give anything to be able to bottle that sensation and put it up in his little room dedicated to you.

Clover slips a thin paper strip around your neck before draping a cape around you. He’d definitely nick that for later. He has a whole stack of them that he likes to sniff from time to time. He hums a small tune, one he’d seen playing on your phone once, and pulls out his hair tools. With every strand that he collects in his comb, he wets his lips with anticipation. He starts up the blow dryer and watches your lips part and your face scrunch up in mild frustration as the loud noise cuts you off. How cute.

After a moment of him working, massaging his fingers into your scalp with an air of nonchalance, he cuts the offending machine and lets you speak while he trims away at your layers.

“I’m kind of jealous,” you admitted, and he couldn’t help but perk up. “You’re always working to get better, to do more,” your words stroked his ego, and he hoped that you wouldn’t take note of how flushed his face was in the mirror. You finished off with a shrug and a small smile. “I guess I just admire you…”

Clover’s heart jumped in his chest. Oh man… You had no idea. Him admirable? Would you think that still if you saw the room he had dedicated to you?

“Is that a yes to being my guinea pig, then?” He teased and leaned in so his breath fanned over your ear. You blinked for a moment and then relaxed a bit. He tried to not grin. Got you.

“Yeah sure, why not.”

He worked quickly, careful to not mess up your hair as he went along styling it to be just the way you liked. Braiding, blowouts, perms, whatever you requested, he could do it. He knew he was good at what he did, and he knew that with all the discounts he lured you in with couldn’t be beat. He was so excited, practically vibrating with joy. As he finished up, he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Okay! All done! Now just give me a moment to get everything ready for you,” He said and rushed upstairs, every creak of the wood igniting fire into his heart. In his arms was the hair and some objects you had touched. He wondered if you thought on his actions the way he thought about yours. 

Sometimes, he thinks, he wishes you would find out about how much he loves you. He’s not delusional, but by god does he wish he was. That way he could at least pretend that you would be okay with all of this. He quickly organizes the hair in its respective drawer, and the other in neat little rows that he has labeled. Used wax strips, the nail files he’s used on your hands and feet, old combs, were arranged like precious items among other things you left behind. A half empty tube of chap stick, some receipts that he’s analyzed hundreds of times, old, spat out gum. It was all here, but he needed more. He craved more of you.

Clover locked up that room with much effort. Oh how much he wanted you.

He lit candles, set up the table, heated stones, and brought the various oils and lotions he couldn’t wait to see your body slick with. He heard the creaking on the stairs, and he shuddered. 

“Oh, you got impatient, huh?” He comments, and your footsteps stop abruptly, like you were embarrassed to be caught.

“Yeahhhh,” You said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck as you blushed. He bit his lip, his face hidden by the flickering light. “I just couldn’t stand waiting… you know me.”

He did. He knew you so well. He’s happy the two of you could agree.

“Okay, here’s a robe… Just go behind that curtain over there and then put this on.”

Clover watches with satisfaction while you did as he instructed. You didn’t know, couldn’t know of course, that he had put a camera in the corner. You wouldn’t blame him, right? Not if you didn’t find out. He just couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to get a rare, nude pic of you. After all, he hadn’t been able to get into your home yet.

You slunk out from behind the safety of the partition in that fluffy robe, and he smiled warmly and beckoned you forward. He could practically imagine the amount of new additions he could add to his photo wall. You hopped up onto the table, and he covered you with a sheet. He started a playlist of relaxing music before he rubbed some oil onto his palm before he began kneading the flesh of your legs through the sheet, watching your now relaxed face with an intense gaze. 

Clover loved you. He loved the way you sighed in pleasure as he worked on a particularly stiff knot under your skin. He loved the way you trusted him. He would cherish the robe and the sheet that had touched your pliant form. Everything would be looked after and stored with the utmost care.

Including you.

He smiled, loving and sickeningly sweet as he grabbed a neatly folded, soaked cloth off of the table from its place nestled between decorative flowers. He hovered it over your face as he drank in the sight of your still features. Your nose scrunched, and he bit back the urge to coo. He sighed happily. He wondered if you had caught on that this was the last time you would ever trust him again, that this was the last time you would be anything more than the crowned jewel that he’d been coveting this whole time.

Your eyes fluttered open, his grin stretched wider, and he pressed the cloth down.

[lucky-fy]

For the Laicion nation (aka, me and three other people)

I had this illustration commissioned (a big thank you to @lunehowls) for my werewolf AU Laicion fic (still a WIP).

The general pitch is as follows :

AU in which Laios never got to meet his sister again, putting his life on a whole other path, a more desperate one. A military deserter with barely a coin to his name, Laios hitches a ride on a boat to one of the elven continents, where he learns about magical tattoos that binds one’s soul to a wolf’s, effectively making them artificial werewolves. Illegal magic be damned, this feels like the answer to… everything.

In the process, he learns about the existence of an illegal fighting ring in one of the elven cities, where beastmen gladiators gather. Freshly tattooed and without anywhere else to go to, Laios decides to head there, where he meets Lycion, an elf and artificial werewolf gladiator. If they first bond over a simple shared meal, by spending time together (sharing the same room in the barracks, maybe the same bed? gasp) they find that they have a lot in common, notably a shared distaste for the body they were born in, a dysphoria partially remedied by becoming a werewolf.

They bond :)

NB: I commissioned another piece, go take a look :D

[catcherwrites]

For the record, you can pry my “Sarai used to be in the Crownguard before she married Harrow” headcanon from my cold, dead hands

Amaya trained the Standing Battalion and Sarai trained the Crownguard, and their ability to work together is why Katolis had the strongest fighting force in the Pentarchy

You can also pry “Sarai and Soren were insanely close before her death” from my cold, dead hands. Maybe not even then, because I’m gripping this idea tightly, even in death

Sarai helped Soren and his family manage his illness because of her experience with Damian. And Soren was just so excited that the Head Crownguard was hanging out with him! Even when he was at his worst, he’d always perk up if he could see Sarai train the soldiers from his bedroom window, or regale him with stories of legendary battles at his bedside

After Soren got better and Sarai left the Crownguard to become Princess of Katolis, she offered to show him the basics of swordplay and strategy to help Soren with all of his pent-up energy. Even though he wouldn’t be interested in poetry until years later, Soren was introduced to the concept through Sarai, who’d recite some of Damian’s old work for him during their time together. Sarai had essentially become one of Soren’s constants after his family fell apart with Lissa leaving, Viren growing cold, and Claudia throwing herself into magic

At least until she died, heroically saving his dad

[kasieli]

Hear me out: MC and Seb exploring the underwater caves together

[thilsiktonix]

small little doodle page for you @niceguyanonymous !!!!!

((I tried my best, I'm not a very good writer, but I hope you like it <33 sorry I didn't put too much detail into this one, I wasn't sure how exactly to interpret it!))

[konaiiro]

ian and mickey crumbs

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: can i pretty please request a drabble where gen has a sibling and that said sibling and hoshina are dating? even better if gen's sibling is an officer/troop leader in the first division and partakes in the rivalry between the third and first division but outside of everyone's view— gen's sibling and hoshina are terribly lovey dovey!

warnings: reader wears short shorts in a scene

wc: 1200

This was not something that started today. Rather, it had been this way for as long as anyone could remember.

From the moment you had joined the 1st Division, you had always been bickering with Hoshina— just like your brother. It was plain as day you were none other than the younger sibling of Narumi Gen. Although you lacked the power and passion for fame that Gen had, you weren't any less competitive than him.

However, unlike your brother, you were better at neutralizing smaller size Kaiju than him— naturally making you more competitive with Hoshina. While you were incredible at what you did, you seemed to fall just a step behind of Hoshina most of the time. You were insanely good, but Hoshina was just a little better. You had beaten him just once in the neutralization test of smaller sized kaiju, and you just couldn't seem to do it again.

This was well known among most of the first and third division, and they did enjoy your playful banter that arose even in the toughest of times. It wasn't always easy to keep the mood bright when things got difficult, but the two of you would never fail to do so. They hoped this would never change and your rivalry would never fade.

However, there were things that had changed that no one really knew of. The two of you had started dating a year ago, and you were madly in love. It was your little secret. Well, your little secret that Gen accidentally found out about.

Neither of you had told Gen about this and quite frankly, the two of you were planning to keep hiding this from him if it were possible. It wasn't new that he despised Hoshina quite a bit, and he was extremely weary of the people you meet, especially men. Naturally, to find out that Hoshina was your boyfriend wouldn't exactly be celebratory news for him. Not to mention that Gen was loud when he had complaints. You knew he absolutely would not shut up about it. So it really wasn't the plan when he had found out.

You were in your room lazing around in a baggy shirt, specifically Hoshina’s shirt, which covered your short-shorts while Hoshina was in your kitchen cooking something quick. Until you got a shared place, this happened rather often. It was either him in your room or yourself in his room. However, a lot of your stuff had found a place in his unit and vice versa, so it was very easy for you to visit each other whenever. A little too easy, perhaps.

“Hoshina, you don't have to make anything fancy,” you said. “Anything’s fine. You had a long day too.”

“I'm literally making us ochazuke. It couldn't be easier—” he was starting to say when the door swung open.

“Guess who's here!” Gen had yelled while walking into your place.

Immediately you looked back at Hoshina in the kitchen and gave up. “Oh gosh,” you said.

“What did I say about ringing the doorbell?!” you yelled back at him.

“And what did I say about locking the door?!” he exclaimed back.

“I thought I did—” you started to yell, but then you remembered you had forgotten to lock the door after Hoshina came in, hands full of groceries to stuff your empty fridge. You were a little too thrilled to see him. “My bad.”

You knew Hoshina was going to scold you later— he's been telling you to be more careful about locking up properly.

Gen saw the extra pair of shoes by your doorway and immediately met eyes with Hoshina in your kitchen.

“Why the hell are you here?!” he yelled.

“Oh, can you please be quiet,” you said. “He's visiting.”

“Why, hello! That would be me!” Hoshina said, greeting Gen properly now that it's come down to this.

“Why is he visiting you, in your room, alone, with you dressed like that?” Gen continued to ask. He wasn't understanding nor did it seem like he wanted to.

You let out a sigh, you didn't mean to, but there was no getting around this one. “What's wrong with having my boyfriend in my room,” you said.

“Your boyfriend? Hoshina?” Gen said, horrified. He didn't think matters could get worse, yet here he was. “Why him?”

“Oh, why not him?” you asked. “He's the best I could ever wish for.”

Hoshina didn’t expect that— especially not to your brother, just like that. His eyes widened as his heart tightened. Oh, how he absolutely adored you. You said it so naturally, as if merely stating a fact. To you, that really was all it was though.

Gen had a lot more to say and complain about while staying far too long, long enough to steal some ochazuke for dinner (which he also managed to complain about) before you were finally able to kick him out. Yet, through all of that, Hoshina couldn't be happier to be with you, bickering away as you ate a 5 minute meal at a small make-shift dining table.

As soon as Gen finally left, you spread your arms out in front of you, asking for a hug, which Hoshina promptly returned.

“He's finally gone…” you said, relieved it was finally just the two of you.

“Not sure he liked me much,” Hoshina said with a smile and you rolled your eyes.

“Like we didn't already know,” you said. “I really didn't plan for him to barge in like that.”

“I have to admit, I do enjoy watching you two bicker though. My brother and I are not nearly as close,” Hoshina said and you rolled your eyes again when he said ‘close’. You wouldn't ever explain your relationship as ‘close’. “However, you ought to make a habit of locking your door. What if that wasn't your brother and I wasn't here.”

“Yes,” you said, quietly but clearly— but avoiding eye contact. “I will.”

“Thank you for saying that earlier,” he said, turning your head to face his. “To this day I don't know what made you choose me.”

You immediately realized what he was talking about.

“Oh, please,” you said. “Be serious. I am the luckiest person alive by your side.”

He kissed you and you kissed back, but he truly wouldn't let you go. You started hitting his arm, hoping he would let go so you could catch your breath. After what felt like the longest moments ever he finally let you pull back, letting you breathe.

“Soushirou, I can't breathe!” you said, trying to sound irritated, but your tone lacked the edge you were hoping for.

He completely ignored you, however, and pulled you back into a tight embrace.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” he said. “Just you and me.”

“In this small place?” you said, laughing a little.

“Absolutely wherever,” he said. “As long as you're here with me.”