#i ended up giving up it looks fine anyways

[vanderbilt-draws]

dale

rotting his brain

[thewritetofreespeech]

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: your husband leaves for a hunting trip, but before he leaves he provides you with a gift to keep your fealty secure.

tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), chastity belt [fictional c. belt usage, don't come for me], oral (female receiving), cowgirl, aemond is a meanie to his wife, but also a sweetie, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

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The bells seemed to have not stopped ringing for days now.

First, to herald the new prince, Maelor, into the world. Then to call his father home.

Aegon had overheard of the Baratheon tradition of going hunting before the birth of a child. Claiming a new stag and presenting the pelt to the mother, which he thought was a splendid tradition. The hunting, not the presents for the mother; although any excuse to get out of the castle was Aegon’s ultimate goal. He assembled some of the finest hunters he could find, or at least on such short notice, and sped off into some forest while his wife labored through the end of her pregnancy and had her toil finally ended in the wee hours of the morning.

You were happy for Helaena. To have her child here & health and her agony ended. But also, selfishly, that your own agony might be ended too.

Your husband had gone with hers. Aegon insisted that family should be involved in this new process he was creating, and made his brother come with him for the hunt. Aemond did not fight him too hard. He too would look for any excuse to leave the castle, particularly when his half-sister & her family were around, and enjoyed hunting like any man of arms might when the opportunity struck.

However, before the princes left your husband presented you with a gift that had turned your ill-planned parting into a tortuous affair.

“I still don’t see why any of this is necessary.”

Aemond paid you little mind as he fastened the last strap and locked it. Admiring his work as he sat back on his heels. “I feel that my fidelity is being called into question.”

“It is not your fidelity, dearest one.” He told you. Standing to his full height above you as he slipped the key into his pocket. “A beautiful woman, alone, for some days’ time without her husband. I am protecting you from those less virtuous than you.”

You frown and drop your skirts. “Oh please.” As if anyone would dare touch you, or even glance in your direction too long, with Aemond the Fierce as your husband. Even before your marriage he had managed to scare off any suitor or admirer that came near. Deciding that you would be his and he would not have competition on the matter. His jealousy had not gotten any better since you were married, but luckily you found it endearing; in an odd, Targaryen ‘take no prisoner’ kind of a way. “I will be with your sister most of the time anyway whilst you are gone. Unless you think her a threat now?”

Aemond smirked. “I don’t know. Helaena does have a weakness for the oddest, cutest things.” He leaned in to give you a kiss, which you return despite your sulking pout.

“How am I to relieve myself with this thing?”

“There is a small hole.”

“Charming.”

“The point is that you, nor anyone else, can relieve you.” His hand came up to cup your cheek. “Not until I get back.”

You frown at Aemond again. Once again feeling your fidelity was being called into question, but now also your virtue. “Please. You think I am some nymph unable to curb my baser instincts while my husband is away? That the moment you leave I’ll just start humping the couches like a dog.” The prince scoffed. Amused by your joke. “I will be fine Aemond. I am sure I can last a week without ‘relief’ as you put it.”

“See that you do.” He gave you another kiss. Longer this time and you kiss him back properly, without the pout, as you realize this was your goodbye kiss. “Tell Helaena to push out that babe sooner rather than later. I’d hate to have to miss you by the time it’s all said and done.”

That had been a tenday ago, and you had been eating your words since the sixth.

At first, it was fine. You were indeed busy tending to Helaena. Keeping her comfortable. Keeping her entertained. You had not yet known the joy of being with child, but from where you were sitting across from her it seemed not to bring the joy often described. Your situation did not get problematic until night fall.

Alone in your bed, you had trouble falling asleep that first night without Aemond beside you. His gentle breathing not at your back. Had your bed always been this big? The second night sleep came a little easier, though you still missed your husband. By the third night, you really missed him. You suddenly realized that since your marriage not more than three days had gone by without Aemond sliding to your side of the bed to lay with you. He was not the braggart like his brother or other more crude lords at court, but he was quite the vivacious lover; when properly motivated by affection and praise.

Now alone, you were suddenly aware of your body and how much it had changed since being with Aemond. How, in a way, he had conditioned you for him. Before it would have been no problem for you to go without such pleasures, but now you seem unable to make it not 3 days without touch. Coupled with the fact that you couldn’t do anything about it with the damned belt on you were all the more frustrated in your situation and desired nothing more than for Aemond to come home.

You watched as the gates opened and Aegon’s party rode in. The horses galloping to a halt before the procession stage. No dragons this time. Aegon said it would take the sport out of.

The newly anointed father leapt from his horse and bounded up the steps of the small stage to Helaena. His eyes & smile bright as he looked on his newest son, Aegon took Maelor from her arms gently to hold him for the first time. It was all rather endearing.

Your attention turned from the happy scene to the steps again as they creak under foot. Aemond’s tall, lean frame now in full view. You find it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. As if your chastity belt was suddenly wrapped all the way around you like a corset. You grip the arms of your chair tight to stay strong and stay still. Aware that you were still in public and in front of your family after all.

“Look brother! Look at my new son!” The second prince walked over to his brother to look upon their newest addition. Giving his new nephew the smallest hint of a smile as he looked down at him. Your core quaked violently.

“Congratulations brother. Well done, Helaena.” The princess smiled shyly at her brother, and their mother seemed pleased for once at this happy moment.

Aemond snapped and made some sort of gesture at a servant, who scurried up the steps and handed him some ivory pelts from a chest that Aemond then gave to Helaena. Foxes, perhaps. Or maybe rabbits. You couldn’t be sure which as your sister-in-law gushed over their softness and color while you smiled & nodded along. Your mind completely focused on Aemond. He was so close now. You could practically smell him. The iron. The leather. The sweat & sun from riding back this afternoon. You have to swallow to keep the drool pooling in your mouth from leaking out. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of this…thing!

“If you’ll excuse me, I must wash the road off and rest in a proper bed if I am expected to entertain later.” Aemond’s voice cut through your thoughts. As if he heard you.

“You do not wish to stay and see the babe?” Aegon asked. Holding his new son up with a look of ‘what could be better than this?’. You could think of a few things, but as a lady you held your tongue.

“He’s not going anywhere, is he?” Aemond jest. To which his mother rolled her eyes and he kissed Helaena on the cheek. “I will see him at the feast, I’m sure.” He turned and finally looked at you. You felt your heart stop and your skirts grow moist before he offered his hand to you. “Come wife.”

You take his hand, digits trembling almost as much as that first time you took it, and stand. You kiss Helaena’s cheek on the other side, wishing her congratulations again, before Aemond lead you off the stage and into the palace. Luckily, by fate or design, the procession meeting ground was near your apartments. So it was a quick walk before you were at your door. They open for you, and Aemond only let out a stern “get out” to the servants, who only have mere seconds to flurry away before you were on each other. Your lips crashing against Aemond’s along with the rest of your body as you back him into a corner against the door like you felt you had been backed into all week.

“Get this fucking thing off me.”

“My, my, such language.” Aemond was grinning maliciously, but pridefully, down at you. “I leave for just a week and my sweet wife’s lips turn into that of a Braavosi sailor.” You gasp, nearly pant, as Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. Seeming fascinated by them. As if they were some intricate puzzle for him. “Did you miss me, issa jorrāelagon?”

You whimper as the High Valyrian rolls off Aemond’s tongue. Your thighs shivering as at the thought of it and those delicious purrs between them again. “Yes. I did.”

He seemed pleased. “I missed you too.” He kissed you again. Slower, sweeter, deeper this time, rather than tongue & teeth. It was a good thing Aemond’s arms were securely wrapped around you as his kiss made you swoon. “I would think of you every night.” His lips brush against your lips, your cheek, your chin. His hands caressing you softly everywhere as you stared dimly up at Aemond. Drunk from him. “While Aegon and his pack rutted with their camp followers, I would go to my tent and think of you. Stroke my cock along with your key around my neck, think of you waiting for me, until I could no longer take it anymore.”

You whimper & whine at Aemond’s words. A part of you elated to have that effect on your husband, but part of you also extremely jealous. You had been forced to wait while he had not. That seemed entirely unfair and should be corrected immediately.

“Aemond…please. I’m tired of waiting. Please take this off me so I can be your wife again.”

Your prince smiled at you. Pressing you back now as you kiss this time towards the bed. You had intentionally worn the simplest dress you had to the arrival. Beautiful in design and beadwork, but nowhere near the detailing of lacings and ties most of court lady fashion had. All with the intention of Aemond being able to get it off you quickly, which he succeeded at, and lay you on the bed. “Hells. You look radiant.”

“Aemond please…” You beg again. Bosom heaving. Your skin on fire at even the briefest touch of his fingertips against your calf. Tingling in your nakedness in front of him, save for this accursed belt.

He took pity on you it seemed and opened his vest with a few quick snaps. Producing the key from around his neck. He still kept it there, it seemed. Aemond gave you a long look, as if holding on to this final, torturing moment with some perverse pleasure at your suffering, before he undid the lock and helped you out of your ties.

You moan, loudly, with your head tilted back as it finally came off. Release from the belt was almost as pleasurable as the full release you were surely about to receive. Your skin able to breathe fully. Your limbs one with themselves again. It was enough to make your head spin, only to be brought back to you when you felt Aemond spread your thighs and kneel before you.

“A-Aemond! Wait! I haven’t washed properly in---mph!” He doesn’t seem to care.

Though you had bathed regularly since your parting, the belt made it difficult to clean yourself fully. Trust in this, you had tried. Every angle. Every side. Every idea imaginable to get around this accursed thing, but to no avail. Aemond seemed unbothered by this as he devoured your cunt like a starved man. That skilled Valyrian silver teasing your clit. Making you squirm on the bed, to the point that Aemond had to hold your thighs apart to the point of bruises. Gods, you hoped for bruises. The shift from no attention to this sudden onslaught was enough to drive you to madness. Overstimulated, you cum quickly with a sharp cry. “Oh Gods…..!”

Aemond doesn’t leave you until your walls stop quaking around him, then he lifted slowly from between your legs. “Still sweet as ever, issa jorrāelagon.”

The prince stripped out of his clothes with a speed you did not think possible of their usually intricate clothing. You bit your lip. Core throbbing even though you had just climaxed at the sight of your husband. Lean form. Alabaster skin. Pure white save for the hard, blushing cock pointed out at you. “Aemond…”

He chuckled. Probably finding your lust blown eyes and subconscious spreading of your legs for him amusing. “So needy.” He was enjoying this. Enjoying tormenting you with his fine figure and devilish smirk. People often whispered about how cruel Aemond was. You never believed them. But perhaps you would have to amend your thinking on the topic as it was cruel to have him on offer now and still make you wait.

He crawled on to the bed and on top of you. Your lungs filling with air and releasing in a sigh as you feel his weight on top of you. How you had missed even this part. To be close to your prince. To have his presence mix with yours. Not just the sex, but the intimacy was something Aemond had trained your body to as well. You hope to never be parted from it again.

“I’m rather tired from the journey.” He whispered to you. Panick welling up in you as he stroked your hair & cheek sweetly. He wasn’t going to stop, was he? You would punch him in that beautiful face if he stopped now! No a judicator in the land would convict you. “So, you will have to do all the work this time, sweet one.”

He gripped your hips then and flipped you over. You yip at the sudden change in equilibrium, but then moan as you felt his hardness brush against your sex. The length of it perfectly aligned to slide between your folds. By fate or design you could not be sure, but what you were sure of was that you needed it inside you.

“Take from me what you want, issa jorrāelagon. Let me see your rapture now that I am home. You deserve it.”

You whine at Aemond’s words and kiss him desperately. As a thank you? Just the burning need to touch him?

You lift up and line his cock up properly with your entrance. The wetness from your sex and anticipation allowing him to slide in easily, and you moan like a whore at the feeling of him inside you again. “You have to move, issa jorrāelagon.” Aemond reminded you. His tone sweet and teasing. This spell he had on you working over your mind as you are unable to think, just obey, and start to move your hips.

Aemond watched you from below. His eye and sapphire fixed solely on you as you writhed in pleasure on top of him. Every bit the nymph you claimed not to be just a short while ago as your body and mind were lost to you in the sole pursuit of pleasure.

“Aemond..! Aemond…! So good!”

“I know, my love.” He must be close. The grit of his teeth, and the fact that he used your nickname in common instead of High Valyrian, his tell. “I’m close. Just a bit more.” You weren’t sure if you could last that long as you were suddenly bursting all around. Body shaking. Gasping for air. Luckily, it seemed just enough for Aemond and his hips arched up to push deeper inside you as he spilled his seed.

You collapse on top of your husband. Sweaty, wanton, spent. Aemond, for his part, seemed to catch his breath rather quickly and flipped you back over. “What are you doing?”

“Truly you did not think that would be the only time I had you.” You cry out when Aemond thrust his still hard cock into your sensitive sex. “We have near a week to make up for.”

It was much later in the afternoon by the time Aemond felt he had properly ‘balanced the scales’. Your body was exhausted, but content. Laying with your husband in the afterglow, and your ruined bed, a tonic for your soul you didn’t know you needed. “I have a gift for you.”

“Another one?” You tease your prince, who smiled and untangled himself from you to go over to a chest you hadn’t realized was in the room. You recognize it though as the chest the servant had brought to Aemond at his command when he presented the pelts to his sister.

“I caught this one when I was out on my own. Aegon & his troupe were off to the east with their wine and crossbows. I went west, as no quarry would come with their revelry. Seemed only fitting that since I found it on my own, my wife should have it.”

It was a pelt of pure onyx. Soft, but not nearly as soft as what Helaena had gotten earlier. This was the pelt of a beast, not prey. “Aemond, it’s beautiful.” Your fingers sift through the fine hairs. Feeling the power of its former master almost transfer into your fingers. “Thank you.”

“I am glad you like it. Perhaps I shall have to find you a new one, in nine months.” You glance over at Aemond out of the corner of your eye. Quick to understand his meaning. Quick to realize that Aemond wants his own son now that he’s seen Aegon with his second.

“Perhaps.” Time would only tell. You move your beautiful new fur to the side and crawl into Aemond’s waiting lap. “But if you leave me here for a week while I suffer alone, I will kill you. Do you hear me?”

Aemond laughed in the face of his own danger. “No. I would never leave you. This tryst was amusing, but I will be damned before I follow a Baratheon’s tradition before our own.” He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. “Our kin will have dragon eggs in their beds, not pelts.”

“Good.” You agreed and kissed him fully.

You make love again. Slowly, intimately this time. The kind of joining you both hope brings children. You would have to bathe and get dressed for the welcoming feast later that evening. Aegon’s welcome home and Maelor’s official presentation, along with all the spoils the men had caught on their hunt. But for now, it would just be you and Aemond. Enjoying each other and being back in one another’s arms.

Your last present though mysteriously vanishes. You have no idea where the belt went to, or what was done with it. Aemond had no answers. But you have a sinking suspicion it was moved somewhere for safe keeping; lest you find it and burn it, as was your threat long after.

[bambisnc]

i guess the time has come [ft. p.hn]

-> recap : “hanniii,” iroha says, throwing an arm around your best friend’s shoulder, “i can’t believe you left your ~girlfriend~ moka here all alone… she’s been pining after you for ages now~” you quietly slip out before you can hear her response.

pairing : bsf!hanni x f!reader genre : angst uwu cw/tw : girl idk i tried to make it sad + uneditted <3 wc : 0.6k (chat did u notice how the number of words keeps decreasing ...)

it’s raining. 

it’s raining and you’re still in school long after the bell signaling the end of the day; embroiled in the committee plans for the upcoming school festival. 

it’s raining when you see hanni’s lone figure walking back through the school gates. she doesn’t see you though, her eyes too busy focusing on her phone screen. 

a minute later, you hear a familiar notification from your own phone.

● hanniiee 😏 guess who’s at school rn … 

● you well. me

● hanniiee WHAT WHERE WHY 

● you  dumbass look up

her head swoops up, and you swear you could almost count the stars upon stars in her eyes which look around in search of you.

you wave to catch her attention.

and when she waves back, for a second it’s just the two of you in the entire world.

hanni races over to meet you and you almost want to scold her because the ground is already wet – what if she slips or something? but somehow the sight of her eagerness is enough to quell all the other feelings bubbling inside you. 

“yn~? jesus did you zone out on me?” hanni teasingly asks. 

you shake your head, “i wouldn’t dare.” 

“mwah <3 that’s more like it. hey so why are you in school so late anyway?” 

before you reply, you take a moment to look at your best friend. hanni shakes the umbrella slightly to rid it of the water. 

when she looks up, she doesn’t meet your eyes. she’s looking at someone else. 

“ah-! moka, there you are! i can’t believe you’d make me come all the way here just to get you an umbrella.” 

you don’t turn around. 

“pft. why? am i not allowed to disturb the ever-too-busy-for-me pham hanni for a teeny-tiny little favor?~” 

hanni walks behind you, shoulder brushing yours ever so slightly. her clear laugh is what finally propels you to turn around and stop staring at the blank wall in front of you.

“well~ i might make an exception for you. just because you’re a cutie <3”

“my my, such an honor isn’t it? oh right! i wanted to ask your opinions on the dance my club members and i were preparing for the festival!!”

“oooh dance~? yeah you did mention that earlier … ”

?..

she and hanni go on talking about something; you’d be damned if anything actually registered in your brain. you can’t really bring yourself to interrupt them either.

but anymore of this,... you don’t think you’ll be able to handle.

“hi moka..! um also hanni my work’s already done so i’ll be leaving now-” it’s genuinely nothing less than a herculean task for you to be able to layer your words with a thick coating of nonchalance. 

it’s all you can do to act normal. at least for now. 

at least in front of her.

“already?” hanni whines, “aw can’t you stay longer? what’ll i do here without you :( ~” 

you’d do anything for her. 

“i really can’t,” you smile, “moka.. you’ll keep hanni company though, yeah?”

she looks shocked to hear you say her name. to be fair, you are too. 

“yeah i’ll- i’ll be here.”

hanni, bless her heart, immediately offers you her umbrella, “here-! take this, it’s still pouring out there.” the same umbrella which she had come all the way here to give to moka. 

“wouldn't you two need it though?” you ask.

“no.” her hand is looped through moka’s. you don’t remember since when they were standing like that. 

since when they even became a concept. 

(you know you’re overreacting but wasn’t it supposed to be the two of you against the world?)

“i think we’ll manage without, it’s fine really.” 

hanni’s smile bids you farewell.

you leave the umbrella right by the gate where hanni’s bag was kept. you couldn’t take it and leave the 2 of them umbrella-less in good conscience. 

you also can’t help thinking of another universe.. one in which she’d run after you, through the rain. like a scene from the one of those cheesy rom coms you used to binge all the time.

… looking up at the grey sky, you’re almost grateful for the rain and how it streams down your face.

notes : 🤷🤷 + [m.list] + YALL CLICK ON THE LINK PLEASE song rec : te quiero - kiof wbk

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[77gigabytes]

Pinpricks {Miya Atsumu x Reader}

You know... All this brain juice should really be going into writing my assignments, but it’s whatever :D

Anyway, I'm thinking of posting a masterlist soon, there's not a whole lot, but please look forward for that! :D

-Seven

You and Atsumu have been friends for as long as you can remember.

Not too long ago, after he had won a championship game, you confessed your feeling to him.

“I’m sorry, YN, I just… I just asked another girl to a date a few days ago.”

A thousand needles. All over your body.

“Oh.”

Tears prick at your eyes and you clench your hands to will yourself from letting them drop.

“That’s,” You give him your best smile, “That’s great!” You chuckle a little.

You both know it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Who were you trying to fool?

You laugh a little - as a coping mechanism or from embarrassment, you don’t know.

“Hah, forget I ever said anything then.” You shy away from his gaze.

“YN.” He says as he reaches his hand out, “Look-”

“No,” You’re quick to cut him off. You tuck your hands around your waist and lean back ever so slightly, “I, uh…” You clear your throat to stop your voice from shaking, “I should get going.”

You turn to leave.

“YN, wait I-”

Act normal.

You’re fine.

Haha.

You lift a hand to wave at him, “I’ll see you around, Tsu-” Your hand drops slowly. Tsumu? Could you even call him that anymore? You bet his new girlfriend would.

With these thoughts in mind you quickly correct yourself, “Atsumu.”

You don’t think you’ve ever gone this long without talking to Atsumu. Well…Aside from greeting him like you normally would. Or at least as best as you can without breaking down.

In between classes, you take the most convoluted route possible. At break times, you hide yourself amongst your girl friends; forgoing the rooftop to eat in the crowded cafeteria.

In some classes it’s quite hard to avoid him when he literally sits next to you.

“Pssst. YN.” He leans towards you.

You spare him a glance, “Shh.” You give him your best glare, “I’m trying to write notes.” You speak while scribbling in your notebook, “You know this topic is hard for me.”

Not true... But it was your best excuse.

From the corner of your vision, you see him narrow his eyes.

With your eyes trained on your notes, all you can hear is a huff and tearing of paper.

Moments later said piece of paper lands on your desk.

I need to talk to you after class.

You turn to him, who already has his eyes trained on you.

You answer with a subtle shake of your head.

To which he replies with a frown before turning to write another note.

You’ve been avoiding me

You hold the note in your hands and stare at it for a few seconds.

You look up at the ceiling and blow out a breath before writing down a reply.

Fine. After class. 2 minutes.

Short and sharp.

You pass the note back to him and he looks to you with a smug smile.

But pins prick at your heart once again.

You once thought of confessing by passing a note to him like this...

After all, it was something you two did almost every day.

Just how long had you been harbouring these feelings?

It doesn't matter, it's too late now.

…

You don’t think you’ve ever dreaded the end of class as much as you have right now.

Everyone is speeding away, having thrown all their belonging into their bags to head to lunch.

But your hands are shaking as you pick up your notebooks.

What am I supposed to say to him?

Lost in thought, you don’t realise that Atsumu is holding your pencil case for you to pack away into your bag.

He’s standing in front of your desk with his bag slung over his shoulder, “YN?” He asks.

Snapped out of your trance, you look up from where your seated but don’t answer him.

“Let’s go,” He laughs lightly, “Ya only gave me two minutes, I gotta hurry.”

You take your pencil case, “Right…” You whisper, “Thank you.”

“C’mon.” He motions to the door with a nod of his head.

Languidly, you follow after him. Every step pinches at your heart.

“Look Astumu,” You try to beat him to the chase, “I-”

But he cuts you off, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You bite your lips. Of course I have. You think.

He places a hand on your forearm, “I told you, you don’t have to be awkward with me.”

You almost scoff at him, “It doesn’t— I can’t just—” erase my feelings for you.

With a deep breath, you gather your thoughts, “I—” You look up at him, “I just need some time to get used to it.”

You gently cover his hand with your own, “I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You admit and dip your head as you feel the tears rising, “I’ll—” You pull his hand away, “I’ll come to you when I’m ready, Atsumu.”

“And when will that be?” He whispers.

You can only shrug.

He sighs, “You’re my best friend, YN.”

That’s what makes it hurt more. You grit your teeth. Why can’t he understand that?

“I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

Again... A thousand needles. All over your body.

You close your eyes for a moment as the tears threaten to spill over.

“Neither do I.” You hate the way your voice shakes.

“Atsuuuu~” It’s his girlfriend’s sickly sweet voice.

You quickly wipe your tears and turn to leave, “I have to go.” You point behind you with your thumb, “I have to borrow PE clothes from a friend.”

One thing that is both a blessing and a curse about being friends with Atsumu is that you inevitably become friends with his twin, Osamu.

“You know you can’t avoid him forever.” Osamu says, leisurely leaning back in his seat in front of you.

You scowl, “Watch me.”

You know this is misplaced anger, but this heavyhearted feeling is becoming too much to bear.

“Will you at least come for our birthday later this week?”

Your body goes slack.

You've never missed their birthday, and they've never missed yours.

It was an unspoken promise at this point, one that you, unfortunately, think you can no longer keep.

…

When the morning of their birthday arrives, you’re curled up in bed.

You’ve been vomiting all morning; feeling lightheaded with a fever but feeling so cold all the same.

Osamu came by a while ago. He was meant to pick you up and head back to their place to celebrate their birthday.

“Just take the presents.” You groan as you prop yourself up, “The blue one is for Atsumu. This black one is yours.”

You began preparing their presents months before today - collecting little volleyball trinkets that you think they would have liked.

You gather the blankets around your body and take small steps to the presents you prepared.

With all the strength you can muster, you give him a smile and say, “Happy birthday, Osamu.”

... and Atsumu

…

When Osamu arrives home, he delivers the present on your behalf, “Here, Tsumu. This is YN’s gift for you.”

He smiles when he takes the box, “Oh, nice. Thank you—” He looks around... Behind Osamu... To the door, “YN?” He says slowly as he tilts his head.

“She’s sick.” Osamu explains, “She was vomiting all of last night and this morning when I came to pick her up.”

Atsumu frowns at that, “What?”

Why didn’t she call me?

When your eyes blink open, you see Atsumu sitting on your bed.

He lifts his hand to your forehead and greets you with concerned eyes.

I must be seeing things.

“I’m going crazy.” You mumble and turn your back to the figure. I guess I’m more ill than I thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” The voice is crystal clear in your ears.

“Nope.” You push your fingers into your ears, “Go away. I just need more sleep." You nod your head, "That’s probably it.”

Atsumu pulls one of your arms away, “Why didn’t you call me?” He asks, barely above a whisper.

You freeze at the realisation. It’s not a dream… He’s actually here.

“You always call me.” He mumbles and turns to tuck the blankets under your feet, “You hate being sick.” He states.

You watch him fix the blankets some more before asking, “What do you mean?” You croak out, “It’s your birthday…”

He turns to look at you, “So?”

You blink at him confused, “Soooo…” You drag out, “I’m not gonna call you to take care of me.”

He doesn’t speak, but his gaze is too tender to simply be concern for someone who is sick.

It makes you feel uneasy and you fidget under the blankets, “I’ll be fine. Where’s Osamu? You should head back.” You ramble.

You grunt as you sit up, “Go.” You urge him by pushing his shoulders with whatever strength you have left, “You’re missing out on your own birthday party. I’ll be fine.”

“YN…” It almost sounds like a plead.

“Just go.”

But, you can be just as headstrong as he is, “Just go, Atsumu.”

A few beats of silence passes and he stands up on his own accord.

You r gaze drops to your hands in your lap, but you can hear his footsteps fade followed by the click of the door.

You didn’t actually think he would leave.

But he was right, you hated being sick and he would always be the one to take care of you.

But things have changed between the two of you. He has someone else he has to take care of now.

Your body falls back onto the bed at the thought.

You pull the blankets closer to your body to muffle the cries that fall from your lips.

Crying when you were sick was always the worst. The tears feel so much hotter on your cheeks. Like little pinpricks to your eyes.

Atsumu used to be the one to wipe them away.

For now, they’ll just have to soak into your pillowcase.

The first thing you feel when you wake up again is the cold towel on your forehead.

When you look around, you notice that there’s a humidifier on your nightstand and another blanket draped across your body.

“What?”

As you try to make sense of the situation, a loud bang comes from behind the door followed by a string of curse words.

Huh?

You groan as you sit up and your vision sways from having laid down all day.

As you stand, you have to brace yourself against the bed momentarily as your body aches in complaint.

When you exit your room, you’re greeted with the sight of Atsumu crouched down on the kitchen floor, rubbing the top of his head.

“You’re awake.” He says, “Ugghh,” He presses against the sore spot, “I was tryna cook, but damn, your rangehood is so low.”

You’re speechless for a moment, “Why… Why are you still here?”

He places a pot onto the stove as he answers, “Well, yer super sick, why wouldn’t I be here?”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t even the least bit happy to see him here, but of course you’ve got a traitorous mouth, “Atsumu, I told you that I’d be fine.’

He shakes his head, “You were 38 degrees before I left.” Then makes his way over to the dining table, rummaging through a plastic bag, “You need ta take some meds. Come here.” He beckons you over with a wave of his hand.

Your feet moved on their own and before you knew it, you were inches away from him.

But of course, you’re still at war with yourself, “Just go.” You bring a hand up to stop him, “I’ll take them later.” You assure him

But evidently, it does nothing of the sort.

He looks at you with a frown, “Why do you keep brushing me off? Telling me to go away?”

“Because it hurts seeing you here, okay?!” The words fly out of your mouth in a tone you didn’t quite like.

Your chest heaves as you admit it to him.

But your outburst is met with cold silence.

“I really can’t see you right now.” You say through clenched teeth, “I want to stay friends, I do. I want to go back to how we were before… Before all this.” Your hands motion between the two of you, “But it’s so hard, okay?” You look up at him, searching for anything in his eyes.

When he says nothing, you curl into yourself, “Just…Just leave me alone. You’ve done what you need to do.” You place a hand at his back in an attempt to guide him to the front door, “We can end everything here and I…”

You pause as he begins to push back against your hand, “I don’t want to see you again.” You mumble.

Swiftly, he turns around and grabs the plastic bag from the dining table

Oh, right… He can’t just leave without his stuff. You think

But he turns and grabs your wrist as well and leads you back to the bedroom.

“Atsumu! What are you— Let go!”

“Lay down.”

“What?”

“You’re not in your right mind, right now.” He throws the blanket over you. “We can talk when you’re better.”

“Atsumu!”

“— No.” He says sternly.

His tone is enough for you to cease your struggling.

“Sleep.” He guides you to lay down, “We’ll talk when you’re not sick.”

“ You—”

“Enough.” He cuts you off whilst jabbing the sheets between the bed and your body.

You huff in defeat and childishly untuck yourself, “You can’t just bulldoze your way—”

“I said enough.”

In anger you glare at him and it’s only then that you see the hurt that's masked behind his sharp tone.

It catches you off guard.

As he turns to leave, he says, “I’ll... I'll wake you up when I’m finished cooking.”

Why do I hurt myself like this? hahahha

-Seven

[luimagines]

hellooooo im new kinda-

but i was wondering if you could do a twi x reader but the reader is insecure about their appearance?

ps: keep up the good work!

Okie dokie artichokie! You got it! :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"I have nothing to wear."

"Just pick something!"

"Like what? Nothing works!"

Uh-oh. Link didn't like that tone you were using.

He was wondering what was taking so long for you to get ready. He had planned to that you to the festival in Castle Town but this was something that he didn't expect. You were usually faster than this.

"What do you mean?" Link asks gently. He thinks he can guess what's wrong. "Can I see what you have?"

You had mentioned wanting to get something new for the special occasion but he had yet to see what you had chosen. You wanted it to be a surprise.

"...Yes. You can come in."

Oh dear, you really mustn't be feeling well if you're willing to ruin said surprise.

Link sighs and walks in. You're holding up a dress to yourself in the mirror. Two different options lay on your bed, waiting to be tried on. Or rather, have already been tried on and rejected.

"I like this color." You say, defeat coloring your tone. "But I don't like the way my shoulders look in it."

Link tilts his head. He can't see anything wrong with it, but he knows that's not what you need to hear. "What about the other ones?"

"Those were back ups." You pout, tossing the new outfit onto the bed with reckless abandon. "But I don't want to wear those tonight."

Link bite his tongue in thought. He didn't think there was anything wrong with the outfit or with your shoulders. It wasn't even on his mind.

"Try it on for me anyway." He finds himself saying. "At least let me see you in it."

"Ok, fine." You sigh, a little disappointed in yourself. Link can see it and he won't stand for it.

He steps out of the room momentarily so you can change.

You step out as well with the clothes on moments later. Link feels his breath leave his chest. You're beautiful.

But he can see already that your insecurities are beginning to take over. You give him a halfhearted twirl with pathetic flourish. "Ta da."

Link tries to hide his amusement and takes your hand, pulling you towards him. He gives you a proper twirl.

"You're gorgeous."

"...You think so?"

Oh merciful heavens, the tiny hope in your voice is a vice around his heart.

"I have eyes." He teases gently and pulls back to give the impression that he's giving this genuine thought. It's not that he wants to trick you, but there's really nothing wrong here. He has to let you believe that your beautiful no matter what.

He refuses to let you be uncomfortable in your own skin.

"Mmmmhm." He grins and purposely dances with you back into your room. You end up giggling at his antics, hanging onto him as he nearly throws you off of you feet.

"Link, please!" You laugh louder.

"Just like this then. I've figured it out." He says proudly, standing in front of your mirror again. Link had wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Is this better?"

You're smiling brightly, trying to see how it's any different in the mirror. But you realize. It doesn't matter. This outfit actually looks quite nice.

"It's because you're hiding my shoulders." You say gently, trying to pull away.

He doesn't let you. "No, it's because we're together." Link stresses, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. "Just stay by my side the whole time, you won't even notice."

You sigh and look back into the mirror.

He has a point. With his arm around you, you don't even see what's been bothering you anymore. You shake your head and smile again, your heart a little lighter than before. "You're to have your arm around the whole time then."

Link snorts. "Believe me, that will not be a problem."

[cillyscribbles]

my modern!cats au giving me, an avid non-smoker, thoughts about smoking and self image, of all things. i will put them under the cut, but meanwhile! enjoy this 1. shameless illustration of my own fic 2. tugger not quite loving the makeup (or costuming) of his poet-murderer role. (yes a local staging of roberto zucco changed my life, very nice of you to ask!)

so smoking bad etc etc don't smoke. anyway, all three brothers deuteronomy smoke, or at least have smoked for large chunks of their lives, albeit for wildly different reasons and standpoints.

munkustrap's been smoking since middle school, his start more or less aligning with the time period when old deuteronomy falls sick, grizabella ramps up her work, and munkustrap, at the ripe old age of maybe 14, starts managing the household and finances and whatnot.

he wishes he'd never started smoking, don't get me wrong. he wishes the relief of the thing wasn't worth it. he quits and starts again throughout the years, over and over and over, climbing into the third decade of the habit without being able to break it, never moving past the numbed feeling of failure for it. it's the one crack you'll occasionally catch in that aged picture of constant steadfastness and responsibility he's got going on.

to be unable to handle it all feels to him as good as giving up entirely. he smokes behind the school. he puts away the ashtrays when he has guests over. he doesn't like smoking with company, and he hates his shame being made known. if you'll allow me a pretentious second, it's sort of like an upward climb that he wants to take on alone so nobody else sees him stumble, and no one helps him if he twists an ankle. it's fine by him because he needs to be able to handle it himself. he needs to.

so. all this, versus tugger, who started well into adulthood and barrelled into it full and consciously. tugger, who smokes to replace sleep and sanity when his life runs on cigarettes and caffeine. but nothing more. he doesn't care to quit, he doesn't care to change. cigarettes look good between his fingers. he knows how to hold them pretty, like he knows everything else about himself that builds the picture he wants.

and, on a more interpersonal level, it upsets him that munkustrap is so acutely ashamed of it, the same way munkustrap is upset tugger is so casual about it. to some degree, though, i think that's because tugger's entirely hyperaware of how fragile life is and on how small a technicality shit can go sideways and end up killing him or anyone else. it's hard for him not to think about it. but it gives him some sort of strength to look for morbid humour in the things munkustrap wouldn't let himself laugh at, i think. it's gallows humour, to be fair, but it's good humour to tugger nonetheless. he finds stakes if not thrilling then certainly intriguing.

besides, making any sort of change to himself for other people, to tugger, is like betraying himself. he's built up that resistance to outside influence, and he's built it up hard and total. he doesn't mold, he doesn't bend, he'll do and look and say whatever he wants, he associates seeking validation strictly with misery. he doesn't understand munkustrap's frustration, or desire to please people, nor does he want to.

the thing with how tugger is, i think, is that he's just prodded at enough for both the street culture he grew up in and the inclination towards self-preservation of someone visibly queer to mesh together into something that can be spectacular and unmovable, and sometimes still turn ugly. i think curiosity is easy to push into cruelty with tugger.

shame is easy to mock for someone who's overcome it and tries hard to forget how insidious it can be. i think both munkustrap and tugger can be cruel to each other without wanting to and without really transgressing toward each other in a way that would dent their relationship, primarily because it's such a strong relationship but also because they're used to some sort of cruelty from the world at least, they just know better where to hit each other verbally to mess each other up. so. self-control, boys. comes to one of them easier than the other, LOL. and again, don't get me wrong. tugger doesn't want to be cruel to munkustrap, but it's not always a thing he can push away the instinct for. munkustrap doesn't want to be cruel to tugger, but he's been making hard decisions for ages and all but expects someone to be hurt by the end of it, and tugger is manageable. so. damn

[callalillywrites]

His Scarred Omega Part 6

Part 5 / Series Masterlist

Relationship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word Count: ~2300

Summary: This little pack is moving into the house Bucky wants them to make into a home. They grow closer during these first few weeks, and Omega learns she can trust Bucky more and more.

Warnings: Bucky Barnes (he's a warning), allusions to Omega's past (again; so sorry), past violence/assault on Omega (not by Bucky)

A/N: I wrote this story really fast as I mentioned above. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Omega soon learns how much Bucky meant what he said.

He moves ahead with the house, going back and forth with the previous owner until they work out a deal that works for them both.

With the house now becoming theirs, Bucky arranges to pick up Omega, then Gracie from school so they can head over and see it for themselves.

Gracie loves it as much as Omega does, especially when she learns she’ll get to decorate her room however she wants. Bucky’s already ready and willing to take her to a nearby furniture store to help her pick out her new bedroom set. He’s also got paint samples for her to choose from as well as some other ideas to truly make the space her own.

He also whispers in Omega’s ear how he’s going to do the same for her after showing her the room he thinks she’ll like the best. As much as he wants her to share the main bedroom with him, he also isn’t breaking his promise to take things slow. One day, he’ll have her in there with him, and that’s all that matters to him.

Omega is surprised to learn the house has four bedrooms and three full bathrooms.

When she asks about the fourth bedroom, Bucky tells her it can serve as a guest room or an office they can both share. He’s fine with either. Though, he does have hopes of one day having another little one running around the house, a sibling for Gracie.

Their tour of the house soon shows the home can use some updating, which Bucky is happy to defer to Omega’s thoughts on what they need while he does the work to make it happen.

It’s not long before Jake and his little pack learn they’ll be neighbors (or close to it anyway) and are already planning a little housewarming party for Bucky, Omega, and Gracie. Jake promises his niece will be there as well, which makes Gracie so happy.

It’s during this brief reunion with his friends that Bucky pulls Steve aside and shows him the two photos he wants done up in Steve’s style, having really loved the portrait Steve made for Angel for her birthday.

Steve is all too happy to get to work on them, promising to have them done before they move into their new home. He flat-out refuses to take any money from Bucky for the work, saying Bucky’s happiness is payment enough.

When Steve’s not looking, Bucky slips the money to Jake and tells him to spoil Steve the first chance Jake and Angel get. Jake is more than happy to comply with that request.

Omega ends up touring the house all over again with Angel, detailing what her and Bucky’s thoughts are for what will happen in each room.

Angel never stops smiling at the happiness exuding from Omega or the sappy smile on Bucky’s beaming face. She knows these two are meant for each other, and she’s going to do all she can to help them along, including babysitting Gracie any time they need some alone time.

That time comes about a month after that fateful Halloween night Bucky convinced Omega to give him a chance, to trust him.

He’s kept up with his weekend jaunts with Omega and Gracie, learning even more about his daughter and her beautiful aunt. He falls even more in love with them both, wanting to give them everything he can. Nothing is really off-limits in his mind, either.

It’s during one of these little jaunts that Omega broaches the subject of maybe spending some time just him and her. He’s almost surprised she’s the one broaching the subject, but he can see she’s serious about giving him a chance to not hurt her. No way he’s going to let her down either.

A phone call to Angel has Gracie all squared away for an evening of alone time for him and Omega.

That evening, he takes her to a nice restaurant that Jake recommends where he presents her with another surprise he’s been holding onto since that fateful Halloween night.

It’s a locket with a picture of Gracie on one side. He leaves the other side empty, not wanting to presume she wants a photo of him close to her heart. She doesn’t take long to ask where he got the locket since she wants to add a photo of him from her phone.

When she shows him the one she has in mind, he can’t help recalling that day though he can’t recall seeing her phone out to take the photo. He’s not at all photogenic or handsome in the photo, but the soft smile on her face as she gazes at it makes his heart warm through and through.

There’s little doubt she can feel his reaction through their connection as much as he can feel her happiness with the locket.

Dinner ends up a huge success as they rave over the food and share a few pieces with each other. Omega is definitely shier about sharing than he is, but he finds her so adorable when she does offer him a bite.

Conversation topics remain light throughout the meal as neither wants to ruin their first night together like this with heavier topics. Those can wait for the time being.

They end up sharing a dessert between them before he takes her to pick up Gracie and return them home to their apartment.

He presses a soft kiss to her cheek and reminds himself only a couple more weeks before he can take them all back to their new home. The countdown is on, and he can’t wait for that day to come.

Their first date together actually ends up going well, and Bucky makes it so they continue to have a weekly date night together. Angel is more than happy to watch Gracie each week, sometimes wrangling in some visits with Jake’s niece for those couple of hours as well.

Move-in day comes with all the chaos one might expect of bringing two households together, but Bucky doesn’t mind the chaos or the multitude of boxes littering every floor of their new home. He actually finds it comforting to know that Omega and Gracie are now under the same roof as him.

Gracie adores the additions to her room and her new furniture. Her pink cat stuffy Bucky got her back on Halloween sits proudly on her freshly made bed, a place of highest honor in Gracie’s mind. All her books line the shelf Bucky put in about a week before they moved in officially. The fantasy series she loves sits front and center since they’re still working their way through it together.

Omega finds herself a bit overwhelmed with everything that’s come from both their homes, but she doesn’t mind the mess. She’s even finding it fun with Bucky helping her get a few boxes put away each day until they’re down to the last one. It’s almost with a sad heart they finally finish this chore as she wonders what they might do together next with their busy schedules (and Gracie’s).

Bucky doesn’t disappoint her though as he’s learned she has a great love for board games and card games. He picks up several leading up to their move-in and surprises her with an almost full closet of them. He’ll soon learn that she’s quite merciless when she plays a few of her favorites: Battleship, Uno, and even Candyland. It brings out a new side of her personality, and he’s all that more enchanted by her.

What he doesn’t count on is the bloody screams that pull him from a dead sleep about two weeks after they move in.

At first, he thinks it’s Gracie who’s screaming, ready to race to her room and comfort her.

He doesn’t make it far in the hallway before he realizes the screams are coming from Omega’s room and Omega herself.

Letting himself in, his heart breaks at the sight of her thrashing and crying out in her sleep. Her hands are clenched into tight fists as she moves her arms up to protect herself from some unknown assailant.

He moves over to her and gently grips her wrists in his and calls out to her softly. His chest is already rumbling in the hopes of soothing the terror within her though that takes a bit longer to actually register.

Gracie wakes up and inspects what’s happening. Her eyes hold such sadness as she sees her aunt wrapped up in Bucky’s arms and doing her best not to cry against him.

“It’s fine, sweet girl. She’s fine. Go back to bed, okay? I’ll be there to tuck you in again after I get her calmed down,” Bucky assures Gracie though he’s not certain what set off Omega to make her react such a way.

Gracie, the outspoken girl she’s become, shakes her head. “It’s the bad man. He hasn’t bothered her in a while, but he comes to her now and then.”

“Who’s the bad man?”

Gracie shrugs. “That’s what she told me when I was little. She never would tell me who he was. Just that he can never hurt me, so I shouldn’t worry. I just know that she’s never herself after he visits her in her sleep.”

By the way Gracie continues to watch her aunt, Bucky knows that Gracie is in fact very worried.

“I’ll see if I can’t keep the bad man away from now on, okay?”

At this, Gracie nods. “Night, Dad. I’ll tuck myself in.”

“Night, sweet girl.”

Omega can hear everything they’re saying to each other, but she can’t bring herself to leave the safe space she’s constructed after all the years she’s dealt with these nightmares. She takes solace in the deep rumbles coming from Bucky’s chest, clinging to him as long as he’ll let her. The thought of letting go absolutely frightens her, making her hands tighten on the shirt he’s taken to wearing with Gracie now living with him.

“I’ve got you, Precious. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me,” he murmurs into her hair between comforting kisses.

Time is lost to her as she slowly comes back to herself.

Eventually, she manages to speak. “I’m sorry for waking you. I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m not worried about me. Wake me up anytime you want, love.” He tugs her closer until she’s situated in his lap with her head resting where his neck and shoulder meet. His arms wrap around her while he continues to purr.

“I haven’t had that dream in almost a year. Not sure why I had it tonight,” she admits softly, not sure why the words came out when she’s never talked about this before. Something about Bucky really makes her want to trust in someone again, to lean on somebody else for once.

“Is it the move? Did I push you too fast on this?”

She immediately shakes her head. “I love this house, and I really want to be here with you and Gracie.”

Her mind goes over and over the possible reasons until she recalls the date. She stiffens in his arms as she realizes that horrible night some seven years ago is tonight. The anniversary of it anyway.

“Talk to me, Precious,” Bucky quietly urges.

“The bad man was someone I dated in college. He’s the reason I dropped out though Dot had wanted me to quit and become Gracie’s full-time caregiver. It was so easy to do that after what happened.”

“He hurt you.”

It’s not a question.

She nods.

“Oh, Precious, I’m so, so sorry.”

Omega does her best to stem the fresh tears that spring to her eyes, but she fails as they streak down her cheeks. She tries to bury the memories of that night, but they refuse to stay buried this time.

Her hand trembles as she reaches towards the cleverly camouflaged bandage on her neck. With a rough tug, she removes it to reveal the damage to her mating gland there.

Bucky sucks in a harsh breath when he sees the darkened blemishes on her otherwise perfect skin. While most of it evened out over the years, some of the deeper damage have turned into scars that she’s sure to carry the rest of her days.

He doesn’t exactly think about the ramifications when he presses the softest kiss he can to her scars.

Yet, he knows he’s messed up with the way she stiffens against him. No amount of purring from him is going to fix this, and he hates that he’s messed up.

So, it’s a real surprise when she turns her head towards him. Her hand reaches around his neck and tugs him down until she can press her lips against his. Tears are still streaking down her cheeks, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care as she moves her lips against his. He lets her take the lead, not wanting to mess up further.

When she pulls away for air some time later, her gaze meets his as she whispers, “Stay with me. Please? I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.”

There is no hesitation in him as he moves to place her down on the bed, helping her to straighten next to him. He does the same before tugging her back into his arms, making sure she can feel him from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

“I’ve got you, love. You won’t ever be alone.”

It does take Omega a bit to fall asleep again. When she eventually does, she knows that Bucky will keep her safe. He won’t break his word.

*****

Main Masterlist

[pruneunfair]

Why Laura is the worst remarried empress character. *crack post*

this bitch here gets on my nerves more than anyone.

Shes one of Naviers lady's in waiting so her sole purpose is basically propping Navier up as the one true empress. I don't hate her for that, if I did then I'd hate all of the ladies in waiting. It's how she does it, all of the ladies have a certain theme to them, Eliza is the motherly and mature one who handles conflict with grace most of the time, Mastas is the badass knight tomboy who can wreak your shit in under 5 minutes, Rose is... wait what even is Rose's thing? I don't think she has anything about her other then loyal servant.

Anyway back to Laura, her thing is that she's a angry redhead who tears down other women who don't emulate exactly what she thinks a good woman is (take a good guess on what she considers being a "good woman) the bitch already gives Navier a poor introduction to Rashta, calling her a filthy thing that was found in the woods and is already looking to steal Naviers man because she's really beautiful and Sovieshus attracted to that so.. I guess it's Rashtas fault for being a slave who took what options she had?

She instigated so much shit that did not need to be instigated. Rashta tears a dress (on ACCIDENT mind you), Laura slaps her, calls her a wench and then it's supposed to be a big surprise when Sovieshu has her locked up for being a bitch, nah you expect me to feel bad for her? I was smirking with Rashta when I read that line. It doesn't even end with Rashta, Laura also wasted no time in seeing Krista as enemy like all the other ladies just because Krista didn't get on her knees for Navier and then insists Navier throw her out of the palace after a misunderstanding. There was NO sex, all that happened was Heinrey had his head on Krista's lap and Krista had NO CLUE that he was drugged, she assumed he came onto her and her only crime was not telling everyone the truth when did learn what happened .

But is that it? Promoting internalized misogyny is pretty bad but is there anything else.

This. "Use it on his majesty."

She considers infidelity to be so awful that she tells Navier to basically drug Sovieshu with a love potion and SA him.. I'm sorry what!? Sovieshu is a POS but in no way does that mean SA should be even considered! Yeah who gives a shit if Rape is the worst thing a person can do to another as long as it's your husband it's fine! (It's not, Marital rape is not only absolutely disgusting, it was used as an excuse for decades that married couples can't be abusive.) Thank God that this was during a season when Navier still had all her common sense.

Also her names Laura. That tells you everything you need to know about her.

I usually like to call her Cinderellas step-sister since she kinda looks like an evil step sis, but you know what? Anastasia doesn't deserve to be compared to that bitch, because she is leaps and bounds better than Laura can ever dream to be. If you want a red haired character that's written with the finest character development Disney could make, watch Cinderella dreams come true or Cinderella a twist in time.

[ducktracy]

30 second MS Paint self portrait but my director pointed out that i always start every meeting doing this and said that my energy is admirable and something to aspire towards. and i'm documenting this because i genuinely think a part of my brain is subconsciously being influenced by HIM

[skitskatdacat63]

For @sansebastinae and @boisinnot, my fellow saint seb truthers :)

+ the usual

Yayyyy finished a drawing! Haha only took me...2 weeks. I kept going back and forth on whether I could finish it tonight, and I really wasn't going to. But then I looked at the unfinished version on a different screen and was like oh? Not too bad actually?? So I finished it :) First of all, ofc, here is the process. Kinda weird seeing it for smth like this, it makes me feel like I'm the painter in rennaisance au, not Mark dhjfkf

Ah I was gonna draw a silly renaissance au comic to accompany this(read: lighten the mood), but it's 5 am and I've still not really drafted it well, so! I'd like to finish it at some point bcs I wanna draw more chibi comics, but when I finish smth, I can't help but immediately want to post it, so part 2 will have to wait. I'll show you the outline though so you can at least imagine 😭

^ So many renaissance and beyond paintings of Saint Sebastian are always the most horny thing ever. Like pre/early rennaisance, yeah he was naked and all that, but they were pretty chaste, and uhhhhh suffering?? Well the newer paintings are suffering, but in a different way, if you know what I mean.

So I feel like Mark's the type to be overly pedantic about it, and refuses to make borderline porn of a saint, I mean, god forbid, Seb!!! But then he just. Does anyways. Because he can't control his lust for Seb even when drawing him half dead. I just imagine him holding the paintbrush in a death grip like "must not be horny. Must not draw him sexy. Must make him chaste." And then he ends up with the one seen above. Seb is all smug about it. "Wow you'd wanna fuck me even while I'm all bloody and dying? 🥺"

Mark: "oh I'll make you bloody, alright."

But god so funny to imagine Seb doing all these different slutty poses, like arching his back as much as possible, the cloth nearly falling off at all times, etc etc. And Mark finally lands on this pose bcs he hopes the suffering will outweigh the horny. It doesn't. Also Seb is genuinely serious once he actually gets into the pose, focus mode on. And honestly that's even worse for Mark, bcs it's so much more arousing to see Seb in his element, focused. Tbf I think Seb could be drinking water, and Mark would still find some way to sexualize it. Don't look at his sketches!! They're just filled with Seb doing all kinds of random activities.

Also! Here is the painting I referenced this off of, must give credit where credit is due ofc

The Dying St. Sebastian by François Fabre

Also this isn't really relevant in the context of this drawing specifically. But I looked thru a bunch of Saint Sebastian paintings while trying to find one I could reference, and I came across this middle ages one that actually looks so much like boy king seb 😭 I guess it really is meant to be!

St Sebastian between St Roch and St Peter by Pietro Perugino

Lmao but do you see the difference between early rennaisance and later work???

[tianhai03]

you see these three while you're out trick or treating on halloween night wyd

[brittlebutch]

actually it's kind of funny how people will say Alex's fatal flaw is that he 'doesn't ask for help' and that it's his determination to handle things on his own that leads to his deterioration and eventual death when his whole introduction to the present-day timeline was a very literal cry for help that simply went ignored

[simcardiac-arrested]

no actually I’d like to hear your thoughts on the isat ending

Like i said it felt really tropey and by that i meant that it’s just Everything Good Happens forever and…..that’s it ? like idk we were building up to this huge catharsis sort of thing and then we got to it and it was so sudden and not a good payoff and just kind of nothingburger of an ending . the fact that everyone just forgives siffrin bothers me, or at least the fact that they don’t confront them about the shit they’ve said and done. call me a mental illness villainizer but i think if you’re a fucking asshole and doing the most insensitive things to the people you care about then hey, i think those ppl have a right to fucking tell you off for it. likeeee idk being at your lowest point …… not an excuse …. not feeling it chief ……. like sure the message is to move past your mistakes or whatever but ? that doesn’t mean just getting away with it ??? and i just really don’t understand Why everyone forgives him. honestly at the end of the day the ending is just one problem, the root of which are the characters. everyone feels like trope cardboard cutouts. oh, this is the smart one. this is the smol bean. this is the himbo. and they all care for each other btw. Did u hear that? they all care for each other. we’re not really going to explain to you why these people are so close or what they went through together but just trust me man they’re sooo found famy. like …. okay. i’ve played 30 hours of this game and not once did i buy that any of the characters really cared about each other. like??? why???? You’re telling me everyone super cares about siffrin even though they barely know them?? you’re telling me siffrin cares about everyone sooo much even though he never even bothered to find out their problems before ? Wat ? and this just breaks the ending more because literally whyyy do these people care about him so bad. and then it’s just whyyy does siffrin Have to tell them anything he doesn’t even seem to know them that well. everyone feels like colleagues and Just Friends at best. and so the ending just seems really forced. like it was written by that type of tumblr user who’s always talking about aww why does the found family have to break up after the end of the journey :( which is like fiiiiine. i guess. but u guys know that u have to build up to it right?? you can’t just tell me they’re Family Members(tm) 102829 times and that they super care about each other source: trust. you can’t just do that and then expect me to believe it ….. It feels unearned. the ending feels unearned and i don’ttttt understand what i’m supposed to take away from it . that it’s ok to fuck people up because you’re traumatized and insecure?? that you have to talk about your deepest problems with people you barely know??? i just dont know. Like i said if im being honest the problems with this game’s writing are more than just the ending, it just stands out so much because there’s a lot of build up and then just …… That

[milimeters-morales]

I don’t really have the right words but i like the idea of Hobie doing quick checks for people’s safety without even really moving too much, as both a skill learned from his childhood and just a way he would be anyway. Like let’s say Gwen is calling him and she’s crying but sounds very detached. Hobie’s gonna do a quick mental checklist like this: (Injured? -> Alone? -> Aware? -> Show up -> distract as hiding weapons -> calm her -> check speech -> move location? -> check for injury) and it gets more complex as need be. He’d do this with all his friends and the people he helps in general, and it’s a quick and barely noticeable process unless he tells you he’s even doing that, which he usually doesn’t. I also like to think he was kind of doing this when he was talking to Miles on the way to meet Miguel, just very toned down (for him).

[bobbinalong]

also, if there IS a new project with steph, i hope they go back to full-time calling her spoiler tbh.

[widevibratobitch]

Since we're both as unwell about him as we are I consider you to be someone who knows a fair amount and what do you genuinely think the real James Fitzjames would feel if he saw the Terror's depiction of him? (As in watching the whole show)

HUH good question. first of all i think he'd be a little discombobulated by the very experience of watching a tv show but personally i choose to believe he'd at least be happy he was made into one of the main characters?? and that so many cool and sexy insane people are obsessed with him now <3

having said that. as much as i love show!fitzjames they did nerf him down A LOT. they robbed him of the joyous whimsy that was such a characteristic trait of the real jokester supreme fitzjames (show!fitzjames also has little to no relationship with his irl lieutenant buddies which. sad.)

we also know now that. most probably. he was actually fully english so i can only imagine he'd be Not Pleased about the cairn scene to say it lightly lmao imagine you and your adoptive family making significant efforts throughout your whole life to disguise the fact of your illegitimate birth and then 150 years later some people make a high rating show where they babygirlify you not only spill your secret to the millions of people watching (or secrets, plural, and make you call yourself a fake as a cherry on top lol) but they also get it wrong and make it Even Worse (from a victorian englishman's perspective) like stop guys he's already dead lmfao

having said that. he would have loved the britannia costume and the your nails are a terror line. i know he would.