#i hope the white lilies makes sense :/

[r26yz]

now I've spent myself in lines and lost. where is that boy of yesteryear?

let him die young and leave a pretty corpse: die with his legs in the air

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 3

In which things are made official.

Warnings: smut in the middle. lando being jealous. Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 4.6k words

(a note: happy new year loves!!! hope you enjoy part three!!)

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted

yourusername testing testing... BFFSarah so jealous! >>>yourusername miss you! ❤️ landonorris stalker >>>yourusername 😘 >>>BFFSarah 👀

"I'm funnier than Greg, right?" Lando grumbles, not even bothering to take his eyes off of you.

"Mate, what?" Oscar replies, eyes narrowed, totally mystified as to what the hell his teammate is talking about. "Like, Greg, the guy on the strategy team Greg?"

"Yeah, him." Lando raises his chin towards where you stand opposite of said strategy Greg, laughing (even louder this time) at something he's said. Lando knuckles go white on the counter he's standing when Greg leans in just a bit too close for his comfort.

It was the first day of testing in Bahrain and Lando had just come in from his first test stint of the 2025 season. When he'd walked into the garage a few minutes earlier, he'd instantly clocked where you stood near the back of the garage staring up at a few computer monitors beside his newest nemesis, Greg. At first he hadn't thought anything of it but then he heard you laugh, a sound that was quickly becoming one of his favorite things, and he had stopped what he was doing to stare.

"I don't think I know Greg's sense of humor well enough to be the judge of that." Oscar responds, still confused as to why Lando was asking him such a random question. When Oscar follows Lando's line of sight though, everything clicks into place and starts to make a lot more sense.

"Oh..." He mutters, unable to quell the smirk that surfaces.

"'Oh' what?" Lando snaps, still attempting to assassinate Greg with a glare.

"You're jealous." Oscar practically giggles. He might be the quieter one of the driver duo, but that quiet demeanor meant that he noticed a lot more than other people gave him credit for and Oscar had caught onto Lando's crush after the first time he had stumbled into your office and disappeared on him for hours.

Lando finally tears his eyes away from where you're standing, still staring up in rapt attention to Greg. "I most certainly am not." He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in a move that is very reminiscent of a Stella temper tantrum.

"You two aren't even together, are you?" Oscar reasons, doing next to nothing to reassure Lando that he has nothing to be worried about.

Lando narrows his eyes at the Australian as he fights a pout. "I mean, no. Not technically, I guess."

And that was the problem, wasn't it? You two had been on a few dates and he'd been coming over to your house to hang with you and Stella more and more but a serious discussion of what was happening? He'd been too scared to have that kind of talk with you so quick. You made him nervous but being rejected by you sounded even worse.

"Maybe you should like, talk to her about it then? If that's what you want? I mean, I've never seen the sight of a girl talking to someone else send you into orbit like this before. You really like her, don't you?"

Oscar had worked hard to keep his opinion of you and Lando together to himself. He hated when people commented on his relationship with Lily, which was a big reason why they were so quiet together, so he had made it a point not to press when it came to you. He'd spent most of the morning with you though, while Lando was in the car and he could see why Lando was so attached to you already. You were wicked smart and the program that you had been writing for the team was impressive. He knew there were other people in Lando's life that didn't think the driver could handle being with someone like you but the more Oscar got to know you, the more he could see why you two got on so well.

Lando's gaze slides back to you then. "I do, yeah." He murmurs, a sudden sense of determination settling over him. Before he has the chance to chicken out once again, he pats Oscar on the back and starts off towards where you and Greg are still huddled together in front of a computer screen.

"Greg, can I steal her away from you real quick?" Lando says by way of greeting, his tone needlessly possessive. "Will and I wanted to go through last sessions data with you before lunch." He lies.

You hadn't noticed the way Lando had been staring daggers at you and Greg up until that very moment but the feral look he's giving you takes you by surprise. Greg had approached you as Lando's session had wound down and your new program was stretching its legs on your laptop. He wanted to talk about the inputs you were adding in for this year and give you some feedback on the initial data capture of this morning's session. It was totally innocent and when Lando had slid up next to you practically breathing fire, you had been a bit caught off guard.

"I'll see you at the cocktail party later tonight, Greg." You give him a smile before turning back to Lando. "Where do you want to go, the debrief room?"

"Sure." Lando huffs, giving Greg a fake smile before grabbing your elbow and leading you towards an empty conference room. Like hell you were going to see Gregory at any point for the rest of the day.

You're totally confused at the way he's practically dragging you down the hallway and even more perplexed when Lando nearly slams the door closed behind him and you find the debrief room completely empty. "Where's Will?"

"What?" Lando frowns.

"You said you and Will wanted to go over some data after your session." Annoyance moves through you. What in the world was going on?

"Oh, yeah no. I lied." Lando glares at you like you're the insane one, frown deepening.

"Lando!" You sputter, resisting the urge to chuck the nearest laptop at his head. "I was in the middle of a conversation with Greg."

When he rolls his eyes, you swear you see red. "Yeah, I know. We all saw how endlessly entertaining the conversation was."

The pout that finds it's way onto his face is what unlocks everything for you though. Sudden understanding washes over you as it all finally clicks.

"You're jealous!" You gasp, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of giggles.

Lando at least as the decency to look a bit ashamed of his behavior but attempts to deny it. "I am not."

You arch an eyebrow at the man standing across from you as if he's not the easiest book in the world to read. "Lando Norris, you were jealous of a man who was telling me all about how his boyfriend took him on a trip to the Bahamas over the holidays and got bitten by a wild swimming pig."

The way Lando's cheeks go scarlet as he crosses his arms over his chest nearly has you doubled over with laughter.

"Oh."

"Oh is right, you muppet." You chuckle, using the term of endearment he's become famous for. In a few strides, your within arms length of him, tugging at the waist of his half unzipped race suit. Lando takes a step forward as you pull him closer.

"Jealously looks good on you, Norris." You smirk before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, mindful of the fact that you're still at work.

Lando settles his hands on your hips, drawing you even closer to him, seemingly forgetting that he's still at work. He grins down at you, a flirty glint sparking in his eyes.

"Yeah, well. What can I say? The sight of some idiot flirting with my girlfriend kind of set me off."

Your hands slip around Lando's waist. Heart hammering so fast you're amazed Lando can't hear it, you beam up at him. You'd never experienced the kind of contentment and safety you felt whenever you were with Lando before. He frequently caught you off balance like this and had you feeling like you were a teenager again, still believing in fairy tales and happy endings.

"Girlfriend, huh?"

"That's right." He whispers. The rasp in his voice has you pressing your hips into his, seeking friction from his body.

"Well, since I'm your girlfriend then I guess you’ll be needing this for later tonight." Reaching into the back pocket of your jeans, your fingers find the thin plastic card you'd stashed there to slip into Lando's hand sometime this afternoon.

Anticipation sparks between your bodies as Lando figures out what you've just pressed into his palm. All this time he'd been building up this big conversation that he thought had to be had and nervously putting so much pressure on himself to do this all the right way. It had only taken a matter of seconds though and you had reminded him that it like most everything that happened between you and him, this was easy too. There's a silent understanding that passes between you two then that maybe this was how it was supposed to be from the beginning and that sometimes wires get crossed and we meet people later than the universe intended.

"I have to get back to work and you should really find Will and actually debrief but I think I'd like to skip tonights cocktail hour if that's okay with you."

Lando reluctantly lets go and nods, swallowing around the thick lump of emotion stuck in his throat.

"Yeah." He croaks before reaching back out to bring your face to his, kissing you so intensely your knees buckle. "I'll see you tonight."

Not even five minutes after Lando responds to your text, you hear the beeping of the lock to your hotel room door and it swings open moments later. Anxiety flows through you despite the flirty text you'd just sent. This kind of thing was totally out of your wheel house, with most of your adult life spent focusing on your daughter and not dating. It had been Sarah's suggestion to send that risky text but after your conversation with Lando earlier, you were briefly confident that it would be well received. And judging by his response, you were right. That didn't do much to calm your nerves though so the knock on your door sends the butterflies in your belly flying around in what feels like a category five tornado.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Lando groans when he sees you kneeling on the bed waiting for him. Every thought tumbles straight out of his head at the sight of you waiting for him in nothing but black bits of lace. If he had known this was what had been waiting for him all night, he certainly wouldn't have gone to dinner with some of the team.

"You like it then?" You ask, barely resisting the urge to dive under the covers you feel so exposed under his gaze. Lando can't stop staring and it's starting to make you nervous, the way he's dragging his eyes up and down your body without making an attempt to move from where he stands just inside your hotel room.

"Like it? Baby, are you fucking kidding me? I don't think I've ever seen a prettier sight in my entire life." The rasp in his voice drags down your skin like sandpaper.

"Then stop staring and get over here."

Lando obeys immediately, toeing off his shoes before joining you on the bed. His hands find your hips and before you can make a sound, he's pulling you into his lap and attaching his lips to your neck.

"I think everyone got the impression I was about to be sick or something, I got up from that table so fucking fast." He mumbles against you. "Also, give me some warning next time you're going to send me that kind of thing, Osc nearly got an eye full of something that is for my eyes only."

Lando had been attempting to show Oscar something on his phone when your text had come through and the moment he'd swapped over to his iMessage app he was glad that Andrea had picked that exact second to call Oscar's name. He had shut down the message app so fast, all of his blood rushing straight from his head to below his belt.

"Oops." You giggle. "Sorry."

"You're not one bit sorry, don't lie."

All you do is shrug as you preen under his attention. He eyes drag lazy lines up and down your body, stalling when they fall on the black lace barely hiding your most intimate parts. The heat of his gaze has fire stoking deep in your belly and for the first time in years, you feel desired and wanted. It's an unfamiliar feeling that you're still getting used to but with Lando, it feels safe. You feel cared for and it's unlike anything you've ever experienced with anyone you've slept with before. Which, to be totally honest, wasn't a lot. You haven't been in a serious relationship since Stella's dad, the only dates you've gone on in the last six years usually ending in casual flings that don't end up meaning much outside of the bedroom.

This though? This feels different and you know Lando feels the same.

Lando's hands grip at your hips as he moves you off his lap briefly and stands up. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he unbuckles his belt with one hand, tugging it off in one smooth motion, the leather slapping against itself and echoing throughout the otherwise silent room. 

“Jesus.” You breathe and desperately try to catch your breath as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. You've known that Lando has a sinfully good body for a while, his entire career is centered around his body afterall so naturally, he is in amazing shape. There’s a reason that women will do next to anything to get any of the drivers in their bed. Nothing prepared you for the hard planes of his chest and the insane cut of his abs though. The way his waist nips in to show off a deep V cut of his torso makes your mouth water. With both his jeans and shirt now discarded, he stands in front of you in just a pair of gray boxers that do absolutely nothing to hide how rock hard he is.

Fuck. 

Before you can stop yourself, you rise up on your knees and move towards him, needing to get your hands on his body. On your knees before him while he’s standing, you only come up to his collar bones but that’s enough. You drop kisses on his heated flesh and relish the way his breath hitches in his throat when your lips make contact. He allows you to continue kissing him for several moments, his hands roaming all over your body. You don’t know how long it is but after his hands have taken full a full tour of your skin, he pulls back and looks at you with a primal glint in his eyes. “Lay down." He orders "I need my tongue on you. Now.” 

You obey and crawl back, watching him prowl after you. Your head rests on the pile of pillows as he covers you with his body and suddenly, the insecurity and anxiety from earlier flashes through your mind. You've never been with anyone who seemed to want to do anything but fuck you and then be done with it. This reverence for your body is completely foreign and the reality of what is about to happen crashes through the haze of lust that clouds your mind.

You must stiffen a bit because a frown appears on Lando's face as his arms cage you in and he hovers over you. “Baby?” 

You shake your head, refusing to let your insecurity ruin the night. Your eyes close and you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“I’m fine.” You whisper but Lando doesn’t believe you. He drops back onto his knees and straddles you, drawing back so he can see your entire face. 

“What’s wrong? We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not ready.” 

Your face heats, but from embarrassment this time. Fuck. You do not want to ruin this.

“No. It’s okay. I just…I’m just not used to this kind of attention.” You don’t tell him how your're used to being used for your body, for whatever pleasure your partner can get out of me and nothing more. You don’t tell him how insecure it makes you to think that he could do the same thing to you too, despite how safe and good he makes you feel no matter what. Sometimes, habits are hard to break. Especially habits that are born out of trauma. You can't tell him any of that though because you think it might break his heart. 

Lando tilts his head and seemingly understands what you're saying. “I don’t know what the fuck the guys in your life were thinking, having you in their bed and not treating you properly, but baby, I am not them. This is not about me, this is about you.” His fingers trace long, lazy lines from your shoulder down over your bra and continue down your body as you shudder with pleasure.

“That’s it." He coos. "I know you’re scared but I swear to you, you are safe with me.” His voice is barely a whisper but you can hear the sincerity in it. Your heart thunders in your chest as you hover between wanting to stop and throwing every bit of caution away and allowing him to do whatever he wants to you. 

“I know I am. I always have been.” You hum.

“Do you want to stop? You just have to say the word and we will. This is yours to control.” 

Your eyes search his for any trace of anger and when you find nothing but honesty in his face, you shake your head. “Please don’t stop.”

You desperately do not want him to stop. 

Once he’s sure you're okay, he crashes his mouth on yours once again and you melt into him. His body is so heavy on top of you but it feels oh so good. You never want it to end. You never want tonight to end. Lando presses kisses into your skin all down your body, starting at your jaw, moving slowly downwards. Kisses on that dip between your neck and shoulders, lower to your sternum, even lower to just above where your bra still sits. He stops then and snakes a hand behind you, lifting you up momentarily, and unclasps the back with surprising ease.

“Okay, that was way too easy for you.” You accuse, laughter bubbling up as he tosses the bra across the room. 

His eyes find yours and he shrugs casually, “What?” He feigns innocence, “Lucky first try?” 

“Oh, whatever. Get back to work.” You order, laughter teasing at the edge of your voice. 

Lando shakes his head again, dropping his head back where he had left off and turns his attention to one of your nipples, taking it fully in his mouth. You inhale a sharp breath at the sensation coursing through you. It feels like your skin is on fire, all leading down to a single throb between your legs. He hums in satisfaction when your back arches off the bed. A moan escapes your lips when he scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin, the pain sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. After what feels like an eternity, he turns his attention to the other nipple, already pebbled and hard, aching for the same attention. Your mind goes blank as you focus on the jolts of electricity coursing through your body. Your hands tangle in his curls, gripping at the tangles of brown hair, needing something to latch onto. 

“Lan.” His name is a whispered prayer on your lips. 

“Fuck. Baby.” He comes up for air briefly to look at you again and you almost can’t stand to look at him, he looks so good. His lips are swollen from kissing you for so long and he's got this heavy lidded, lustful hazy gaze in his eyes that you've never seen from him before.

“You taste so good.” He rasps before shifting back up to land kisses on your lips. You're so focused on what his lips are doing that you completely miss his fingers digging into your hips. You let out a startled cry when the sound of ripping fabric cuts through the breathy sighs that have filled the room. 

“Lando!” You whine, “I liked those!” You look at the torn bits of black lace that he’s dropped next to him on the bed and sigh dramatically.

“They were in my way. I’ll buy you fifty more tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, his hand dips down towards your pussy and anticipation climbs in you. You gasp when he sinks not one, but two fingers into the heat between your legs.  Your entire body aches off the bed towards his hand. “Christ. Baby. You are fucking soaked for me, aren’t you?” 

It’s all you can do to just nod an affirmation as he swirls his fingers in achingly slow circles. His thick fingers inch closer to your clit but manage to avoid it and you know he’s doing it on purpose. You wiggle your hips in search of that friction you crave so badly but every time you get close, he moves his fingers out of the way. By the fourth time this happens, you're a whimpering mess underneath him and Lando is clearly enjoying it. “Lando.” You whimper. “Touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” He drops another hot kiss on your jaw and traces his tongue down your neck. You swear you're going to explode from the sensations coursing through your body. 

“You know exactly what I fucking mean.” You snap and move your hips again, only to find his fingers just short of the destination you want them in yet again. 

An evil chuckle tickles your skin. “I like you like this. A pretty little mess underneath me. My girl is so wet for me, isn’t she?” 

His girl. The emotions crash through you at his words and every other thought beyond those two words leaves your brain. 

His girl. 

His girl. 

Your brain chants the all consuming phrase. 

Just when you think you can’t take it any more and you feel that familiar tug at the base of your spine and Lando finally gives you what you've been aching for. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit and your hips fly off the bed towards his fingers. A cry escapes your lips as you claw at his back. He keeps up the same pace and you can feel yourself barreling towards a delicious release.

“Please. Don’t. Stop.” You pant, breath coming in short gasps as you rock your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he keeps his hand exactly where it is and allows you to grind against it, knowing that this is exactly what you need from him. His lips come down on yours again and when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, you fly over the cliff.

Sweet release shatters your entire body and you stiffen against him. Your nails dig into his back, leaving little half moons embedded in his flesh. He’ll have red welts there for days and he couldn’t be happier about it. You don’t know how many times you cry out his name but he keeps completely still, allowing you to get the relief that you desperately need against him. 

When your orgasm subsides, you practically melt into the bed, mind too muddled with pleasure to talk. You open your eyes and grin lazily at Lando, who has shifted so he’s lying next to you on the bed. He’s grinning right back and tracing shiver-inducing lines up and down your naked skin.

“Fuck. Lando. That…” You are completely lost for words so it takes you a moment to form a complete sentence, “That was the first time anyones been able to make me come with just their fingers.” 

“Well, I’m glad I could be your first.” He smirks, dropping a kiss on your temple as he pulls you closer to him.

You turn to face him and you're struck at how handsome he is. His curly hair is messy from when you pulled at it while he was getting you off, his eyes glassy with satisfaction even though he hasn’t even come himself yet. He seems to get off just watching you and that is a completely foreign concept.

You reach out and feel the light stubble that covers his jaw, enjoying the rough feel against your fingers. You idly wonder what that stubble would feel like against your thighs and decide that you're just going to have to find out exactly what it feels like soon. That one single thought sends heat flooding through your veins once again and you're surprised. You've never considered myself to be one of those girls that could go several rounds. Usually you were finished after one orgasm, most of the time it was faked anyway. But with Lando laying next to you, you feel like you could do this for the rest of the night. A mischievous grin slips across your face as you reach over and push him back into the pillows.

Before you allow yourself to think about what you're doing, you straddle him and relish in the feeling of his dick that is now nudging against your ass. “I think I need you inside me now.” You tell him and squeal when his pupils blow and he flips you onto your back without warning. 

Hours later, you fall into such a deep sleep you don't notice Lando slip out of bed to get a drink of water from the bathroom. You'd spent the better part of the evening underneath him as he gradually worked you over so good you had lost count of how many times he had made you come.

The mattress dips when he joins you back in bed and Lando is surprised to find that he doesn't want to leave you. Up until meeting you, Lando had been more of a one night stand, never sleep over, kind of person when it came to sex. Getting back into bed with you and pulling you close so he could fall asleep with you tucked next to him was something he never thought he'd want but now that he had it, he knew he'd never be able to live without it again.

When Lando pulls you towards him, you stir a bit, enjoying the way the heat of his body warms your naked skin. You're so fucked out from everything Lando did to your body, your brain is a little sluggish but you turn into him, burying your head deep into his chest.

"You left me." You whine sleepily.

Lando slots his leg between yours, hitching your top leg up over his waist. "I'm sorry, baby." He whispers against your hair. "I needed a drink but I'm not going anywhere."

"I thought you left." In your sleepy haze, the words you probably would've tamped down slip out. "Please don't leave me."

Lando knows you're more than half asleep and probably don't realize what you're saying but something in your words has him feeling you don't just mean for the night. "I'm not going anywhere, sweet girl. Not ever." He whispers, listening to the soft cooing sound you make in response before you drift right back off to sleep.

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[torchwood-99]

Can you please develop more on what in your opinion makes Éowyn originally doomed by the narrative? I agree with the idea, I'm just curious as to what traits or parts of her narrative makes her doomed according to you!

In her first scene, she comes across as almost spectral.

First time we see her, she's stood in the shadows behind a decaying old man and his creepy, snake like advisor. Her nickname, the White Lady, conjurs images of phantom "white ladies", which are staples of supernatural mythology, and are usually found in rural places, and are associated with tragic histories and unrequited/doomed love.

When she is dismissed, she leaves, she doesn't speak, but goes silently from the room, and she passes judgement on those she passes. She looks on Theoden with "cool pity", and recognises the power in Aragorn. A pale, voiceless, woman, dressed all in white, passing judgement on those before her, before silently gliding from the room, like a wraith or spirit.

To further reinforce the ghost like imager, she is cold; "thought her fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come into womanhood." She looks on Theoden after his recovery with neither joy or love but with "cool pity".

Whereas warmth usually holds connotations with life, the cold conjurs images of corpses and the grave. Even the use of "spring" in her description, a season associated with life, birth and new hope, is described as "pale". The combination of "spring" (life) and "pale" (death), conjures an image of something that is at once living and dead.

A lot of our view point characters look on her with unease. She is repeatedly described as "stern", and the only time that stern façade cracks is when she shows emotions that are discomforting for other characters.

Her hand shakes when she serves Aragorn the cup, and Aragorn senses her attraction and is deeply concerned about. The intensity of her desire, and Aragorn's unspoken unease, makes for an aura of discomfort and dread.

The only time Eowyn shows "life" is when she's trembling with passion for Aragorn, a passion unrequited, or when her eyes are sparkling with visions of war and death.

The first time her stern face truly cracks, and she lets the feelings show, is when she breaks down in tears, begging Aragorn to let her ride with him. She's either frozen or weeping.

Everyone who observes this is deeply distressed. They find it painful to watch a proud and stern woman break down in tears and beg, a sensation the reader shares with them.

Aragorn himself is deeply pained and troubled by his concern for Eowyn. 'Only those who knew him well and were near to him saw the pain that he bore.'

Aragorn later admits in the Houses of Healing that his concern for her haunted him after their parting, and that nothing caused him so much fear on the Paths of the Dead as his fear of what may come to her.

In the same chapter, Aragorn likens her to a lily. Lilies themselves have connotations of death, and also harken back to Elaine, the "lily maiden" who died of heartbreak after being forsaken by her love, Lancelot.

So Eowyn is a figure of death, despair and tragic love. She is white, cold, lily-like, and is looked on with grief by many who perceive her. And not just grief, but discomfort. They don't just notice her distress, but are distressed by her.

When Merry meets her, he notices she seems to have been weeping, an image that is uncomfortably at odds with her stern manner.

Even Theoden, who cannot be credited with being that tuned in to Eowyn's feelings, notices she is unhappy, asking her how she is, and commenting twice on her obvious distress.

When Merry meets her in her guise as Dernhelm, he shivers, because he feels he is looking at someone with neither hope nor will to live. Their journey to the Pelennor passes in silence. Eowyn is a solitary figure, cut off from all those around her, riding to her death.

This culminates in Eowyn laughing at the Witch King, who brings despair to all who face him, because at this point she has literally nothing to fear from him.

The scene in which she faces him is written as a death scene. She fights him valiantly, but his destruction seems to be her own, and the consequences of her apparent death (Eomer's reaction) are severe.

Her tragedy appears compounded when Theoden bids her farewell, unaware she was with him the entire time, which rather sums up his fond, yet blinkered attitude towards her. She gives her life defending the dignity of a man, who is only half-aware of her existence.

Eowyn is mourned. Eomer rages against the heavens at her passing, and the riders of Rohan speak of their regret that she followed them without knowing. She is carried alongside Theoden, and it is only Imrahil's sharp perception and respect for her beauty that causes him to notice she is still alive, taking them all, and us, by surprise. Up until this point, Eowyn has been doomed, and she seems to have met her doom, heroically so.

But there's still a spark of life in her, still a weak breath in her lungs, and that's enough for her to be saved, and taken to the Houses of Healing. It's just a faint sign of life, barely noticeable, but it's life, which means there's hope.

As we look into Eowyn's mindset, we begin to see why she is such a tragic figure.

The first time she is addressed by name, she is being sent from the room. Her orders to take charge of the people of Rohan, which should be something of an hour of triumph and honour for her, feels almost insulting, in how her uncle would rather throw his crown to the people to take for themselves, than name her as an heir after Eomer, and then forgets she is even a part of their house, until Hama reminds him.

Our final scene of Eowyn in Two Towers is of her as a solitary figure, left alone to guard an empty hall, watching as the men ride away beneath their sparkling spears, a striking contrast between the camaraderie and fellowship we witness between the men riding out together.

That Eowyn is loved and respected by many, as revealed by Hama and her ability to safely lead the people to Dunharrow, despite their reluctance, compounds the tragedy, because she is not entirely alone and overlooked, but the people she wishes to been seen by, the people she holds in esteem, Theoden and Aragorn, rejects. Theoden, unthinkingly, by forgetting her worth until it is spelled out for him, and Aragorn in being unable to accept her love, or her offer of service.

Eowyn's driving conflict, the one that seems central to her character, is not even with the villains who everyone else is banding together to fight. She is part of that fight against them, but her personal struggles stem just as much from her conflict with her own family, her own people and her own society, as they do with the threat of Mordor. Victory over the Mordor does not necessarily mean victory for her, we know for Eowyn to be spared her doom, she can't just be rescued from the enemy that everyone else is fighting. She is trapped, caged, and would rather ride out and die, than live to see herself fade.

“What do you fear, lady?" [Aragorn] asked. "A cage," [Éowyn] said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.”

That whole exchange between Aragorn and Eowyn reveals that above all else, beneath her stern facade and dreams of valour, Eowyn is absolutely seething. She is burning up with rage and frustration, and it is not just her enemies she is raging at, but her allies.

Her narrative starts to turn in the Houses of Healing. Not only is Aragorn able to bring her back to life, but it's clear that despite her unhappiness, Eomer's love for her is still a comfort and a source of happiness. When she wakes up, her first words are joy of seeing her brother there. For a character who until this point has been a figure of sorrow and loneliness, for her to speak so instinctively of joy at the presence of another is momentous.

This joy seems well justified, as not only do we witness the extent of Eomer's love, we also see a change in Eomer, and his perception of his sister.

Her sufferings, and the causes of her sufferings, are finally acknowledged. But they aren't acknowledged as some ephemeral, intangible thing, caused by a broken heart and some vague sense that she's just "doomed", but as the result of a set of specific circumstances that naturally caused her great feelings of despair and hopelessness. Eowyn isn't tragic because "she's Eowyn and she's doomed", but because of Grima's manipulation, and the constraints inflicted on her because of her sex.

That Gandalf compares Eomer's lot to Eowyn's, and points out to Eomer the freedoms and opportunities he had which she did not, further emphasises that it was Eowyn's circumstances that made her so tragic.

Eowyn wasn't "just doomed" and Eomer wasn't "just not doomed". Had their roles been reversed, Eomer could have ended up in similar straits.

Eomer hears this explanation, and a change occurs. He looks on Eowyn differently, and starts rethinking their whole lives together.

In the causes of her suffering being recognised, there is now some hope for her recovery. Her "ailment" has been "diagnosed", and it's much easier to find a "treatment" and a "cure", when there is a "diagnosis". There's a practical solution to Eowyn's suffering, and the person closes to her is brought one step nearer to seeing it.

Eowyn remains in the Houses of Healing, something she sees as frustrating, unnecessary and pointless. She doesn't want to live, she doesn't expect to heal, she thinks herself fit enough to ride and die, and that's what she wants to do.

Eowyn still sees herself as doomed by the narrative, but the narrative and the cast no longer see her as such. She is kept in the Houses, she is encouraged to rest and to heal, she is encouraged by Faramir to have hope, and gradually she starts to thaw.

She also becomes more gentle and vulnerable. Her youth is dwelled on, and her former concerns about living forever in a cage for a moment lapse as she focusses on a more trivial worry that Faramir thinks she's childish. When she scales down her request from permission to ride to battle, to be allowed to walk the gardens and look east, she speaks as a "maiden, young and sad."

In becoming more vulnerable, she becomes more approachable. She is no longer the ice maiden, a spectre, but a living person, with worries large and small, and Faramir is able to smile at her and offer her consolation.

The requests she makes during her "thawing", to look east and not be confined to her bed, signals a slight, perhaps unnoticed by her, return to hope. East is, as Faramir remarks, where their hopes lie. In looking east, she is looking towards hope. Furthermore, her second request, to not be confined to her bed, is something that Faramir can provide a practical solution for. She can have a chamber facing east, and she can have freedom to walk the gardens.

He almost speaks to her like a conciliator, or a negotiator. He talks her down from asking for death, to having a chamber looking east, and freedom to walk the gardens and take in the sun, in return to her agreeing to 'stay in this house in our care, lady, and take your rest," . That he phrases it gives the sense she has agency, he isn't saying "you will stay, and you will have a chamber that looks east, and you will walk in the sun", but instead he says if she agrees to stay, this is what they can do for her.

Therefore, the choice to stay, the choice to walk in the sun, the choice to heal, is put back into her hands, and in accepting Faramir's offer, she accepts the chance to heal.

Both Faramir and Aragorn are struck by pity when they meet Eowyn, but Aragorn's pity makes him hold her at arm's length. He maintains a distance between them, he turns from her and rides away. When he does try to "reason" with her, he only makes things worse, twisting the nail into Eowyn's frustrating circumstances.

Faramir feels pity for Eowyn, but he also feels kinship. She isn't some strange, removed creature. He doesn't look at her and see someone who is doomed. Nor does his treatment of her isolate her, as the treatment of so many others have.

He speaks of the pair of them as a unit, right from the start. He notes that both of them are "prisoners" of the healers, he tells her that both of them will be able to fight the end, if it comes to them, if they rest, and that the hours of waiting are something both of them must endure, and that both of them have passed through a shadow, and in from kinship, he expresses a belief that he might find comfort in her presence.

Eowyn's isolation and lack of agency are key causes in her despair, so it is understandable how this man, who makes efforts to understand her, to get to know, to befriend her and to make a connection with her, is such a balm, and manages to cause such a turn around in her arc.

Through her friendship, and later romance, with Faramir, she opens up, and arguably becomes more emotionally resilient, neither freezing her emotions, "cold and proud", or breaking down, weeping or begging. She shows uncertainty and fear in more moderate, casual ways, instead of pushing them down until they burst out of her.

However, she is still Eowyn. She is still proud (Faramir describes her as looking queenly), she is still proud, strong willed and sharp tongued. Even in her happiness, when she agrees to marry Faramir, she teases him for his people's snobbery, and she refuses the Warden's attempts to "release" her into Faramir's care, by instead asking to stay at the Houses of Healing.

She doesn't go from Ice Maiden to Fragile Flower. Instead, in grasping her future by the hands, in choosing for herself what she will do and where she will go, in deciding her own fate, her own role (that of healer), she shows that she is as strong willed as ever, and Faramir, who re-iterates twice; when speaking of his plans to marry her and go to Ithilien with her, that they will only do so if she is willing.

Eowyn also makes it clear to Faramir that while she will return to him, she has other duties and priorities that will keep her. That is, the rebuilding of the Mark. She has to go, she will come back. A striking contrast to her first introduction, when Eowyn is told "go", then told "stay", as it pleases those around her. She now has freedom of movement, she now chooses when to go, when to stay and when to return.

That Eowyn speaks of how she must go back, must look on her country and help her brother, also indicates that Eowyn sees her own worth and importance. She values herself and feels valued.

At Theoden's funeral/Eomer's coronation, Eowyn plays an integral role in the ceremonies. She presents Eomer with a golden cup and gives the signal for the cups to be raised to drink to the new king. This in itself indicates the esteem in which Eomer holds Eowyn. However, she has arguably been a cupbearer before, and it hasn't been a role that has brought her much joy. While it is a position of prestige, and shows she is a valued member of the household, it's not enough. Luckily, here, she isn't just there to oversee the celebrations of others, but to be celebrated herself.

Eomer ends the ceremonies by announcing her betrothal to Faramir. His justification for doing so is because of Theoden's love for Eowyn, which he uses to argue that Theoden wouldn't begrudge Eowyn's announcement being made at his funeral. He also notes how great the gathering before him is, greater than has ever been seen before. That Eomer wants to announce his sister's happy news before such an assembly, speaks of how much he wants to honour her.

Eomer certainly appears to have taken Gandalf's words on board. When he makes the announcement of Eowyn's betrothal, he says that Faramir asked for her hand, and Eowyn granted it, full willing.

He doesn't say anything about whether or not he gives his permission, (as her king and head of family, he probably was asked, but considering Eowyn and Faramir made their plans to wed with total confidence, you get the impression this was a matter of form, they were going to marry, Eomer disagreeing would be a complication, not a defeat), but instead emphasises how Eowyn has agreed to marry Faramir, full willing.

The final image we have of Eowyn can be a foil of that image of we have of her at the end of her first chapter in Two Towers. Once more, she is bidding farewell to a loved one as they depart Edoras. However, this time, she is embracing Merry before he leaves. She gives him a gift, that speaks of the bond of friendship that is now between them, and a remembrance of the time they rode together to battle, comrades in arms.

Compared to her formal parting from Theoden in Two Towers, this parting is full of warmth and intimacy. She and Eomer both hug Merry farewell, and when Merry leaves, Eowyn is left with both Eomer and Faramir, the two people she loves best, Faramir himself putting off his own duties in Gondor, to be near to Eowyn as she does her duty in Rohan.

Even the parting of Eowyn, Eomer and Merry, which could be a sad thing, is softened with Tolkien concluding "and so they parted for that time".

Their parting isn't forever, it's just for the moment. They will see each other again. Compared to the jarring juxtaposition of the brotherly army riding out, to Eowyn left alone to guard an empty hall, which created a sense of dread and foreboding, the final lines here at this parting fill us with warmth, with them all embracing, and leaves us with a promise that this parting isn't forever, and that the friends will all be reunited soon.

So, to summarise, Eowyn at first appears "doomed by the narrative." She is cold, stern, ghost like, and carries an aura of tragedy and dread.

Her doom she seems to carry through to fruition, and she is mourned accordingly, but the smallest spark of life remains in her, and in the causes of her despair being acknowledged, in the people in her life reaching out to her, making an effort to understand her, and in her and those around her making practical changes, the characters actively defy the narrative that has apparently doomed her, and together, through their combined efforts, Eowyn escapes her fate

Eowyn feels hopeless and trapped, and the people around her struggle to relate, and in fact many of them contribute; some un-knowingly, some knowingly (fucking Grima), to her depression. It first looks like a force greater than herself (the narrative) is causing her despair, and it cannot be overcome, but will instead lead to her destruction.

But actually, there is hope, and there are practical measures that can be put into place, to help her overcome her despair. Medical treatment, a support network, and a greater understanding from herself and from others of what she is going through, enable her to defy the narrative and find happiness.

[dogw1tch]

Enclosed Within🌿

18+ Dryads x Gender Neutral Reader

(Tentacles, sex pollen, reader has afab anatomy)

DogWitch’s notes: I figured I would post some short stories while I work in a much larger project. I don’t think dryads get enough love so instead here’s a little story of them giving reader pLEANTY of it.

Summary: Lost and alone you stumble across a beautiful grove. There’s something in the air that seems to have you desperate and burning up from the inside. Perhaps grinding against the dew soaked moss might soothe you? I’m sure the vines starting to enclose your body are just regular plants.

It had been a long time now since you had found yourself cut off from the rest of your hunting party, and the dapple of gold on the moss covered ground told you that dusk was not far away. You paused again, listening, observing, searching for any sign that might help you get your bearings. Nobody ventured into the forest unless they were sure they could defend themselves against the creatures within and this was not the first time you had needed to navigate home from an unfamiliar place. It was, however, the first time you had done so alone. You grip your bow a little tighter. It was a warm evening and the cloying air had you sweating beneath your linen shirt that now clung to your chest. The cooing and flittering of birds was beginning to quiet now in the fading sun and beneath it you could hear exactly what you’d be waiting for. The gentle murmuring of running water.

Moving swiftly, bow at the ready, you follow the little stream down through the forest. Your village had been built in the valley and all the forest streams connected to the water mill there- therefore, so long as you followed the running water, you could never stray far from home. You had been walking for a few minutes, keeping a keen eye out for any familiar landmarks, when the brook you followed abruptly came to an end. Looking up you take in the strange scene. The brook had opened up into a large pool, spring green with duck weed and lilies, surrounded by moss-covered rocks. Nestled in every crevice of every boulder were fungi of every variety. Tiny white fairy caps to sprawling shelves of orange and brown gills. Some you recognise but most you do not. And above all of this there stretched the branches of a glorious willow tree. Its bows were thick and draped over the grove like a protective embrace.

A strange smell began to pull at your senses as you stood there; something sweet and heady that mingled with the petrichor. You noticed that a light, yellow dust seemed to be falling from the branches of the willow. Tiny particles that caught the light and danced through the air. You find the scent intoxicating, almost addictive, as you breathe deeply into it. It seems to coat your throat with sticky sweetness, like nectar from the most vibrant honeysuckle. As you take in this glorious new experience, you find yourself becoming increasingly uncomfortable in your dampening clothes. The material clung to you, restricting, making you feel hot and over sensitive. Perhaps it was your mind becoming dazed in the sweet air, but it seemed the only solution was to peel off your now drenched, clothing and sit, completely exposed, in the cool, damp moss. The water on your skin instantly soothed the heat that was building up in and around you, and you sighed contentedly, digging your fingers deeper into the mosses and leaves. Your mind had now become so clouded and vague, you struggled to remember how you got here. All you could think about was the cool moss soothing the sticky heat that now seemed to be coming from inside your body.

You began to buck your hips against the rock, hoping the cold surface that rubbed against your entrance might cool your insides. Little waves of pleasure began to radiate through your body as you moved your hips faster, grinding down on the rock beneath you. Your lips opened to gasp for fresh air but all that entered your lungs was that same sickly sweet that dulled your mind and set your nerves ablaze. You let out a whine of frustration and continue to rut against the moss, your own juices mixing with the dew. It was then, as you felt the heat would surly overtake you, that you felt a voice speak within the back of your mind.

‘So easy. So quick to submit. Poor thing.’

With that, the bows of the willow were suddenly upon you, twisting around your limbs and lifting you from the ground to hang, suspended above the lake. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to be alarmed as the loss of friction had you bucking desperately against the air.

‘So needy’

The voice came again, though now it seemed to be joined by a thousand others that echoed its words.

‘Worry not little one. We shall fill you up.’

The whole grove started to shift to life around you, mushrooms and ferns and flowers all shifting into new forms that stared up at you. The branches that bound you, held your arms behind your back and spread your legs wide, revealing your dripping entrance for all these creatures to see. For the first time, your mind began to attempt to shake off its fog and you struggled against your restraints. But they only tightened as the willow lowered you down into the crowd of waiting creatures bellow.

For a moment, they simply observed you. Each one looked different; with features humanoid enough to be recognisable as a face, but with knowing, pupal- less eyes and bodies that flowed into tangles of glistening, vine like tendrils. There was a moment of silence where you could hear nothing but your own racing heart before…

‘Come my children; drink your fill.’

The dryads swarmed around you, wanting to touch and fill every inch of your aching body. Thick tendrils flicked between your folds, coating you with thick nectar before pushing inside. The thin vines of smaller creatures forced their way in beside them and you could feel each of them curling inside you, pumping in and out, sending waves of pleasure through your desperate body. Finding your slick entrance to be full, a dryad that was clearly once a bright fairy cap mushroom, made its way behind you and began to push into your tight ass. You yelped in pain as the engorged head of one of its appendages suddenly filled you, stretching you out. If they heard, the creatures payed no mind as they begin to toy with this new hole, filling it just as achingly full. The pain dulled into overwhelming pleasure as the feeling of countless, slick tendrils fucking deep inside you overtook your fogged out mind. Your hips twitched uselessly and your mouth hung open in drooling, wanton moans.

As soon as your lips parted, you realised your mistake. Vines came curling up your body, encasing you completely and filling your open mouth. You gagged and spluttered but they t kept coming, writhing down your throat. They felt cool on your tongue and their slick was sweet as honey and you found yourself relaxing into the sensation as the lack of air just added to the heady state of your mind. You moaned around the tentacles, limp and pathetic as you could do nothing but feel pleasure.

‘That’s it.’ The voice came again. ‘Let go little one. Let us have you. Let us have every inch of you.’

You had no way of knowing how long you spent, bound up and being filled by countless creatures. Every time one seemed to finish, thrusting deep and releasing its thick, sweet nectar, another just curled its way around and inside you. Honey came leaking from every hole, coving your skin, your face, your hair. The dryads closed in around you and pressed you flush to their cool, damp skin. Perhaps you began to fade in and out of consciousness, waking up only to feel such overwhelming pleasure that you passed out again. But at some point, you realised as you took your first full gasp of air, they all retreated. You felt so empty, bound and dripping with nothing to fill you. The dryads still gathered around, their empty eyes seemed now to be softer, perhaps affectionate, as a few reached out their strange limbs to brush your hair from your eyes and gently caress your body. In your fucked out daze you leant into the touch, craving more, but you felt the willow begin to lift you up again. The tree twisted you around to face its trunk and revealed it to have become a creature of incredible size. Like the dryads below, it had an angular, almost insect like, face and huge, all knowing eyes. But this one had hands too, that reached out and cupped your tiny body within them. It bore a crown of sticks and leaves and it seemed to smile at you, though its face was hard to read.

‘You have done well, little one.’ It didn’t have a mouth to move but you knew now who had been addressing you. ‘So well, in fact, that I should like a taste of you myself.’ It’s gigantic hand wrapped around your waist and held you with ease. You looked down to see that, emerging from what was once the trunk of the great willow, there sat a single, thick, tentacle-like branch. It was thicker than any other that had filled you and seemed to be longer than you were tall. It glistened with nectar and twitched slightly as the dryad drew you close.

‘Fit… it won’t… too big..’ you tried to stutter out, struggling to form a coherent thought. A low laugh rumbled around you, shaking the earth.

‘Worry not little one. I shall not hurt you. You shall feel only pleasure.’

Before you could protest, that overwhelming fullness took you over once more and you cried out in ecstasy. The creature used your body like you weighed nothing, fucking all the nectar that had collected inside, deep into your stomach. You watched as your abdomen bulged against its ungodly size and pressed against every nerve, sending waves of delirious pleasure through you.

‘Such a pretty body, made to be filled. That’s it little one, give yourself to me.’

It moved you faster, your limbs limp and useless as your mind went blank. You were simply a toy to be used for this creature’s pleasure, it’s strange cock filling you completely, stretching you around it until it felt like the most natural thing in the world. You wanted it. You wanted to stay full and delirious forever.

‘I’m yours…’ you choked out a whisper as ropes of thick honey began to bubble inside you. The creature didn’t stop, pushing itself deeper as it emptied into you. You were so full you could taste it.

‘All mine’

The world went dark.

***

It was around three days later when your hunting party finally found you. They had located your clothes, stuck in a brook and feared you had been accosted by some brutish thieves or roaming orcs. Following the stream though, they came to the pool and saw you, leant up against a great willow. You were naked, hair sticking to your forehead but clearly breathing and without injury. They called out to you, relieved that you seemed unharmed. The only strange thing was that you seemed to be almost completely covered in plants. Moss was growing over your legs and vines enclosed around every inch of your body. It looked as though you had been here for years.

One hunter approached, calling your name to no response but a few feeble moans. They must be starved, she thought, as she knelt beside you. But looking closer, she realised your moan was not one of pain, but one of gentle pleasure. Between your legs there sat several mushrooms, seemingly taking turns to push their way inside your swollen entrance. A thin vine flicked, absent- mindedly, at your clit and more still seemed to be caressing your dew covered body. Your friend reached out a hand, trying to shake you awake when suddenly, the moss itself seemed to open its eyes and let out a viscous hiss. She stumbled back to find all of the plant life was seemingly staring at her with a hateful glare.

Perhaps they would just have to leave you here after all.

[youryurigoddess]

Gabriel’s (missing) cross

Let’s put everything we know about that spooky statue of the Archangel Gabriel in one thread to make the conversation about its possible meaning as a Good Omens 3 clue more structured. Starting off with the relevant part of the official commentary from X-Ray:

Douglas Mackinnon got one thing wrong in his part of the interview — Gabriel wasn’t carved by “some guy in Italy,” but a British sculptor and prop maker David Field working as a part of the team at 3DEye in London.

Technically speaking, it’s a gorgeous piece of hand-carved expanded polystyrene with a clay sculpted head on top of it — even if the Archangel’s smug likeness isn’t that pleasant to look at, all things considered. The scenic artists from 3DEye made it look like stone afterwards.

The body itself took ten days to sculpt and is a faithful copy of the famous statue on Ponte Sant'Angelo in Rome called Angel with the Cross by Ercole Ferrata. It stands on the inscription “Cuius principatus super humerum eius” (“Whose government shall be upon His shoulder”, Isaiah 9:16), and this quote makes much more sense for Gabriel than the cross in his hands. The usual iconography of the Archangel uses a trumpet or a white lily instead.

Ponte Sant'Angelo was originally used to expose the heads of those sentenced to death — each of the angelic statues on it carry Arma Christi, the Instruments of the Passion. Like the Second Coming, what seems to be a hopeful message to the Chosen Ones can also be a warning for the others.

The statue of Gabriel, first shown in full in the cemetery scene of the Good Omens 2 title sequence, reappears at the very end as a part of the bridge leading to the biggest Easter egg — at least according to Peter Anderson, the animator behind it — which is the lift in the background, implying how we’re getting closer towards the Second Coming. Notice how the cross broke down in half at some point between these two scenes!

And it disappears in the plot as well: Gabriel’s memory depicts it only from his point of view, with the camera deliberately moving slightly to the right and stopping at his eye level. The centered, establishing shots show the statue with empty hands as a bookend.

I believe that this cross is meant to serve as a foreshadowing, a reminder of the absolution of sins and eternal life through Christ’s sacrifice and Second Coming. We see it only through Gabriel and Aziraphale’s eyes — when Beelzebub looks at the statue, the cross is not there.

As seen in the BTS photos and videos, it’s not an editing error, but a deliberate positioning of the physical props on set. The cross was clearly meant to be a removable part of the statue and displayed in a specific way to convey a message to the audience.

The question remains: is it a reassurance, something to look forward to, or maybe rather a warning?

Not helpfully at all, the traditional use of angelic imagery in Christian cemeteries matches both interpretations.

[burnorgetburned]

EVEN MORE CLARA DOLL DETAILS:

So you know how the Dolls have their own distinctive clothes?

Guess who else has their own distinctive clothes!

That’s right. The multiple Homuras are actually Clara Dolls.

And that’s why ‘Homura’ is smiling.

Here they are! The one with the striped hat is Nekura (Gloominess or Pessimism) and the one with the flower is Mie (Vanity).

Here’s their descriptions from the art book.

[The second one to come was Gloominess. Walking out with a tapping sound, she sneered at Good-for-Nothing. “This is Good-for-Nothing! How very unbecoming.” These dolls are only disciples of Freedom, and are devoted to their lust for it.]

[The tenth to come running is Vanity. She exaggeratedly avoids Good-for-Nothing's head and says a few words. “I wouldn't be able to bear dirtying my cape with that sticky blood!” These dolls make fun of the witch's self-mutilation.]

Good-for-Nothing is Homura, by the way, but the Clara Dolls seem to consider Good-for-Nothing to be good for something after all after she splits Madoka. She turns into the Devil, and the Clara Dolls are stated to be “okay” with the Devil. If the young voices in the trailer belong to the Clara Dolls, then they also call her “Akuma-sama” now. Something like Mistress Devil, implying a sense of respect.

[… if they are not summoned, they will simmer. There are orders they will comply with, and also orders they will disobey. What they are and the witch herself's own magic are not well understood.]

At the end of Rebellion, Homura gave Madoka her ribbon back. She declared that they might become enemies in the end. Honestly, I thought that Homura would try her best to avoid Madoka entirely. The trailer suggested that Homura was meeting Madoka, though. Here’s the answer: it wasn’t Homura herself, but Gloominess, who wants freedom.

Now, I’m not sure how this situation works out. Do Clara Dolls have free will? Are they obeying Homura’s orders? Acting out Homura’s true emotions? Is Homura perhaps directly puppeteering them in order to fulfill her goals, or do they act on their own?

I find it likely that it’s a mix of both: some of them obey her, and some of them will try and fulfill her (probably very conflicting) desires, as familiars usually do. Gloominess is likely part of Homura who wants the freedom to talk to Madoka, for example, but Vanity seems to me like a Clara Doll who is obeying Homura. After all, she still needs magical girls to fight wraiths, at least until she finds a way to wipe them out.

[I'm Vanity (Mie). I'm pushing myself to the limit for someone.] And she is, of course. All of the theatrics, the calls, the organization of magical girls. These are things that Vanity is shown to engage in. All of this is for Madoka.

We see with Gloominess, at least, that she seems to be fulfilling a specific desire: in the background are white spider lilies. Instead of the red spider lilies that mean death, final goodbyes, and lost love, white spider lilies mean a hope for the future and a fresh start. Maybe this really is the first meeting for these two in a while, and she wants to be friends again?

Or maybe, being Gloominess, she wants to warn her about something.

[I'm Gloominess (Nekura). Forcing smiles tires me out.]

Then there’s this Homura.

Nothing about her clothes is very different. She is wearing ribbons as Homura in the wraith universe does, but look closely: the ribbons are different. They have some wavy stripes on them, while Madoka’s ribbons are plain. She does not correspond to any known Clara Doll.

However, there’s mentioned to be a fifteenth Clara Doll that is not yet born: Ai, representing love. This could be her. Is it love for others? Or love for herself? I’m hoping it’s the latter, but very likely it’s love for Madoka and her friends. This would explain why she’s trying to fight Homucifer in the poster, as Homura believes that she’s a danger to everyone else.

How can this be? Well, here’s a few options:

- The Clara Dolls are grown-up familiars. They ate souls, and they became a copy of their witch. This is a process that was explained to us in the original series, where some magical girls are stated to farm familiars by letting them eat people so that they would grow souls/grief seeds.

- The Clara Dolls are not familiars, or wraiths, but instead a secret third thing. “What they are and the witch’s own magic are not well understood”, as said in the Rebellion art book. They could be magical constructs of a different kind, but I do think that this would get into overcomplicated explanations quickly, so I favor the familiar explanation.

- The Clara Dolls could be familiars, but instead of eating souls they’re simply powerful enough to change their shape. Their strength is equal to the strength of a magical girl…. when Homura was a witch, before Homura became something more. It could also be energy from the contracts making them stronger. Maybe it’s me being sentimental, but I don’t like the idea of Homura letting anyone’s soul be nommed on.

Now, before there’s a panic about how they’ll juggle fifteen extra characters, here’s a few thoughts:

- Just because they seem different doesn’t mean they’re actually different. It might be that the Clara Dolls are a way for Homura to present herself. As Vanity, she might show off more, or have dramatic flourishes like her throne and her dress. As Gloominess, it might be that she doesn’t believe that her plans will work, so she tries to do what makes her happy. It’s likely that the Clara Dolls are just extra ways to explore Homura’s character. They’re parts of her soul, after all, and right now she is extremely powerful. She might simply want to keep her true self away from humans.

- They could work like projections. Homura wants more bodies to work with, but she has to filter herself through the Dolls’ personalities. This could result in a lot of juicy character interactions, as the things she tries to keep hidden are closer to the surface.

- Will ‘Ai/Mystery Homura’ fight against Devil Homura? Very likely! How can this be when they’re the same person? Well, who hates Homura more than Homura? That’s right. Nobody. Anyone can fight and argue with their self, it’s just usually not on the level that a reality-warper like Homura can manage.

If this is true, there’s plenty of interesting directions they can take it.

- Because the Clara Dolls have a degree of separation from Homura, they can show other characters things that Homura herself has ignored or locked away. Bad memories, affection for her friends, the resentment she must feel - everything from concern to a cry for help can be plausibly shown through them as the actors.

- Manuke (Stupidity) is specifically more naive/sincere than the others. Maybe interacting with this Doll would show the Quintet that there’s something more going on than a Devil who wants to hurt other people.

- If Ai represents a love for other people, Ai can have a strange character arc where she learns to value Homura/herself, and become self-love.

- On the other hand, Ai can represent self-love from the start, and because Homura looks very fucking unhealthy in the trailer, she only wants to stop her because she’s hurting herself. This option plays into the themes of self-sacrifice and happiness, which I believe to be some of the major themes that they’re going for.

- The poster could be misleading and Ai ends up fighting everyone but Homura. I find this the funniest option.

- Homura can hug herself. It’s possible. In fact, every character can hug Homura 15 different times.

Smiles are a Clara Doll’s default expression. We have yet to see Homura smile for real.

Is this going to get very ambiguous and confusing? Probably. But rewatching for details was the fun part in Rebellion, so I’m looking forward to it!

[redvexillum]

Alastor walks down the hallway, cradling a bouquet of white lilies and a card close to his chest. A bright, jaunty tune escapes his lips as he hums, a placid smile resting on his face. His eyes gleam with quiet admiration as he studies the lilies - they look so lifelike, each petal a perfect imitation of reality.

He realizes, with a flicker of amusement, that you spritzed them with floral-scented perfume, capturing the very essence of real flowers. But the best part? These lilies will never wilt. Not from his cursed touch, nor from the relentless passing of time. They are as eternal as he is, and somehow, that thought brings a curious sense of comfort to his heart.

Charlie: Hi, Alastor!

Alastor: Hello, my dear! A pleasant day we are having, wouldn't you say?

Charlie: [Smiles brightly from seeing Alastor relaxed and content] Yes, it is! [Her eyes caught the bouquet of lilies in his arms] Ooo! Are those flowers and card from Y/N?

Alastor: Why yes it is! It's a "get better soon" card!

Charlie: Oh! I didn't know Sinners could get sick! I hope you're feeling better.

Alastor: Haha! I wasn't sick. My dear thought I could just do better.

Charlie: ...What?

Alastor: Haha! Yes, indeedy! My dear thought I could be a "better person," and wrote a card encouraging me with such frivolous words of cheer and belief. Eugh, it's positively pathetic! [Despite his words of criticism, he felt his tail "twitching" side to side]

Charlie: [Mumbling under her breath as she watches him walk off] Right... Husk said not to question it.

Alastor titters, his laugh echoing like the crackle of an old radio. His eyes gleam with amusement at the absurdity of it all. You, of all people, thinking you could make him, the notorious Radio Demon, a better person? It's a joke he never tires of, a running gag in his mind, one that never fails to bring a mocking grin to his face.

But as he laughs, there's something softer lingering in his expression - something he doesn't even notice.

He doesn't realize how much his sharp, predatory look has dulled, just a tad, in your presence. The lines of his manic grin soften at the edges, his eyes hold a warmth that wasn't there before.

Around him, the other residents of the hotel no longer watch him with wary eyes, no longer tense when he enters a room. Instead, they've drawn closer to him, treating him like one of their own - like family.

What he doesn't realize - what he's too proud to admit - is that something has already changed within him.

For the first time in as long as he can remember, he hasn't felt truly alone. He's surrounded by chaos, laughter, and companionship, things he used to scoff at.

And though he would never say it, and might never even admit it to himself, that familiar gnawing isolation has faded away like an old memory.

Follow Vexi's Alastor Being a Lil Shit for all the latest updates!

[f1swiftiee]

Tipsy (part 2) - LN4

pairings: lando x fem!reader, leclerc!reader

summary: ever since the first time lando saw y/n walking around the paddock, he could keep her off his mind. after his maiden win in miami, y/n and lando spent the night together. after that night, their communication stopped, that is, until y/n reached out.

a/n: hey!! im so sorry it took me this long to put this out! i kinda struggled writing this because i wasn't really sure how to make the story go, but i hope you like it!! a few details had to be changed to make the story make sense. also, some of the info might be incorrect. as always, not proofread, so feel free to point out any errors! part 3 coming soon!

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, mentions of drinking, and that's all??

______________________________________________________________

Ever since that fateful night in the hotel with the wags a few weeks ago, things had gone haywire. You were constantly in a state of restlessness and were yet to tell Lando. You didn't know how to tell him. You couldn't just go up to him and say, "Hey, just wanted to let you know that you're a dad now. Congrats!!" You were still trying to figure out what to do, and even though it was difficult, all the wags were there to support and help you. Still, only you and the wags knew of your pregnancy, and you had forced all of them to swear to not tell their partner, in fear that they would tell Lando or your brother, Charles.

౨ৎ

You were walking out of the doctor's office, after your pregnancy check-up, heading over to Lily M's car because she had insisted that she should drive you around for the time being so that you would be able to have a break. Your mind kept replaying the same words over and over again that your doctor had said. "Yeah, everything looks great so far! Baby is healthy, and you have a low-risk pregnancy." You weren't sure how to feel. Sure, you were glad that your baby was healthy, but you still couldn't believe that you had a child growing inside your womb. In a few months, your whole life was going to change, and it would never be the same again.

As you sat in the car, you saw Lily, with a bright smile plastered on her face. "Soo, how'd it go?"

With a look of uncertainty on your face, you told her, "The doctor said everything was great."

"Hey, brighten up! I know you're scared and this wasn't how you planned things, but look at it on the brighter side! Me, Kika, Rebecca, Carmen, Alex, and Lily are becoming aunties because of you! Plus, you're gonna be the best mom ever!"

A small smile began growing on your face, and a few small tears escaped your eyes. You reached over and hugged Lily, both of you just sat there in silence, not wanting to let go. After about thirty seconds, you finally let go. "Thank you Lily. I really mean it. I couldn't have done this alone without you."

"y/n!! Of course! That's what a best friend is for! You know, I'll always be here for you, whenever you need, even if it means I have to drive over to your apartment at 3 am with ice cream and watch your show with you."

You rolled your eyes at her, "Hey!! I was really sad that night because the dog died in that episode!"

"My point still stands," Lily remarked, shrugging her shoulders

౨ৎ

The past few months had gone by in a blur. By now, you were barely starting to show, as you were passing the 4 month mark, so you supposed you had to tell Lando.

౨ৎ

The following day passed by rather quickly, and you were applying lipgloss to finish up your makeup when you heard a knock on your door. "Shit"

You ran down the stairs and opened the door. Before you, stood Lando, with his smile, that melted your heart every time you saw it. The way his bright blueish green eyes reflected the sunlight ever so perfectly, and his perfect curls. He was wearing a white button-up shirt, with the first few unbuttoned, and grey trousers.

"Woah, someone's staring," Lando remarked.

Hearing him say this, you realized that you had been standing there for the past 30 seconds gazing at him. "W-What? Oh my God."

While chucking, he said, "Ok then. Ready to go? I found this new restaurant not too far from here. I checked the menu, and they have everything!"

"Yeah, just let me grab my purse really quick and then we can go."

You quickly ran back up to your bedroom, grabbed your purse, and slipped the positive pregnancy test inside for later when you were going to drop the news, in case he needed reassurance.

In the car, you engaged in small talk, but you couldn't stop thinking about telling Lando about your baby and how he would react.

Eventually, you two reached the restaurant and headed inside. Lando had already called and booked a table in advance because it was a very popular place in Las Vegas.

"So, how've you been y/n? It's been a while since we've talked," Lando said, starting the conversation.

The conversation kept going until the topic somehow changed to his first win in Miami, and you decided now was a good time to tell him, since it was on topic.

"Hey, Lando, I've actually been meaning to tell you something. It''ll change everything, so I've been scared to tell you."

"Oh, um ok? What's up?"

"So y'know how I was sick for a few weeks after Miami?"

"Yeah, Charles told me about it. He said that you had been acting weird."

"Of course he did. Anyways, so, oh my God I don't know how to say this but...." you tried to finish your sentence, but your voice trailed off.

"But what?"

"Basically, I'm pregnant, and you're a father now," you rambled. It felt nice to finally have the confession out and off your chest.

"I-You WHAT?" Lando tried to speak, but he was unable to form a proper sentence.

You looked over at him, across the table, and were unable to form a response. Your eyes began tearing up because this was the moment you had been trying to avoid for the past few months. You knew that this was going to change everything. Your life was going to change, but you didn't know if Lando was going to be willing to stick around and help you through it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive," you said, reaching into your purse and pulling out the positive test and handing it to him.

Lando grabbed it and started at it in awe. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"I-I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I was just scared at how you would react and-" You tried to continue your sentence, but you were interrupted by Lando.

He placed the test down, got up from his chair, and reached out his arms to you, "C'mere"

You reciprocated and hugged him. Your face nuzzled into the corner of his neck and he squeezed you tightly.

"Listen, everything's going to be ok. I'm gonna be there with you every step of the way," Lando reassured.

You looked up at him, with shining eyes and a smile slowly growing on your face.

"Anyway, since this is happening, I guess it would be a good time to do this because I've been meaning to but..."

"Hm?"

"Y/n, would you be my girlfriend?" Smiling, you replied, "Yes, Lando. I would love to be your girlfriend!"

Seeing the opportunity, Lando leaned down, his lips barely hovering over yours. Moments later, his lips were on yours and caught you in an intimate embrace.

"Been meaning to do that for a while. Y'know I've had a crush on you for ages, right?"

"YOU WHAT?"

tag list:

@callsignwidow @kapsylia @ladyoflynx @sltwins @wisestarfishbouquet @ophcelia @landofotographyy @formulaho @mundane999 @madcatlady @ijvnllk @dinoplushie96 @pear-1206 @bbg-blue-lock @desireddaizymon @embonbon @lewisroscoelove @reallysmalls @sarah10r-blog @thatoneidiot16

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for the next part!

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Summer Days

Kinktober 2024 - Day 20

Pairing: Young!Logan Howlett (X1) x Professor!Mutant!Fem!Reader

Kink: Edging

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: Logan hasn't made the first move, so you decide to.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, voyeurism, marking, creampie, multiple positions, slight d/s dynamics, edging), fluff, saps in love, soft!Logan, confindent!reader

a/n: This one got away from me because I didn't have a plan going into it, but I hope it all makes sense! I hope you enjoy it!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Logan couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you invaded his every sense, everywhere he went in the mansion, he saw you, smelled you, heard your voice. You were driving him crazy. You had helped Ororo and Scott rescue him and Rogue from Sabertooth and since then, he couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. You were a professor, a very put together woman. Your hair always pulled up in a tidy hair do, always wearing professional clothes, the first time he saw you half asleep and in your pajamas was when Charles had their Sunday breakfasts. It was your only day to sleep in and you didn’t feel like getting all put together. He knew he was in love when he watched you eat your breakfast with Rogue and Ororo, a big smile on your face as you laughed through a bite of toast at something Rogue had said, and he was screwed.

In the middle of summer, the New York heat was getting to everyone. Logan was in his white beater and ripped jeans, small beads of sweat rolling down his neck as he took a walk around the campus. He stumbled upon you, doing yoga by the pond, you were in skin tight biker shorts, a white flowy tank top, and he could see your rainbow sports bra through the light fabric. Your hair was tied up in a tight bun as you stretched on your X-Men branded yoga mat. You had a radio next to you, playing classic rock as you moved into your next position. Logan thought he had died and this was his heaven, you looked like a goddess in the midday sun, sweat dripping down your neck and in between your breasts. 

You looked up and locked eyes with Logan and you gave him a bright smile, brighter than the sun itself in his opinion. “Hey, Logan! How are you?” You asked as you sat in a butterfly position, stretching out your hips.

Logan thanked that the heat had his cheeks already flushing so you couldn’t see him blush, “M’good. Just taking a walk.” He grunted and gave you a small grin. 

You smiled wider and stood up and dusted off your thighs, “Wanna join me? I can go grab another mat?” You offered with a gesture of your hand to the cart over by the basketball court. 

He shook his head, “Nah. If I try any of those poses, I’ll hurt myself.” He chuckled and you giggled softly at the thought and nodded. 

“Okay, well I’ll be out here again tomorrow if you wanna give it a try. Right now, a shower and a glass of wine are calling my name.” You smiled and picked up your mat, bending down in front of Logan and he had to keep himself from drooling. You rolled up the mat and patted Logan on the shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Lo.” You said before you walked away, setting the mat on the dirty cart for cleaning before making your way to your room. 

Your room was in the same hall as Logan’s and you two shared a bathroom. You weren’t stupid, you saw the looks Logan gave you, how his nostrils flared when you walked past, how his fists clenched if you did anything relatively sexual, you liked the game but you were getting tired of it. You stepped into the bathroom and noticed that the door to his room was slightly ajar and you got a naughty thought and decided to leave it open. You turned on the water and let it heat up while you undressed and stepped into the water. You let out a soft sigh as the water cascaded down your body, making your muscles loosen and your body relax. 

A few minutes into your shower, you heard Logan’s room door open then shut as he walked into his bathroom. You smirked softly as you heard him walk to the bathroom door but stop before the threshold, he saw you. You heard his soft gasp and gulp as he peered into the bathroom. You bit your lip and grabbed your body wash and your loofah. You squirted a bit onto the sponge and started lathering your bare body, making sure to linger on your ass and breasts, knowing that Logan was watching. You giggled to yourself before washing the soap off and you turned off the water once free of suds. You heard Logan’s footsteps retreat and you stepped out of the shower and grabbed your towel from the hook and you dried yourself off. You wrapped it around your body and walked to the door that led to Logan’s room and you knocked softly on the door. You heard a muffled reply and you nudged the door open to see Logan smoking a cigar by the open window and you smirked and bit your lip. 

“You know Charles doesn’t like you smoking in the house.” You fake pouted and you sauntered over to him, making gulp audibly. You took the cigar from him and took a puff of your own and let the smoke willow out of your mouth. “But then again, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” You shrugged before you slammed your lips against his. 

His eyes went wide before he leaned into it and his large hands tangled in your hair and tugged you closer. You moaned softly at the slight pain of his fingers tugging on your hair. You slid into his lap, letting the towel fall away but then you were very aware of being next to an open window. You pulled away and he whined as you did so, “Lo, take me away from the window. I only want you to see me, not the whole courtyard.” You huffed softly and he chuckled softly and nodded before scooping you up without hesitation. 

He carried you to the bed and laid you out on the sheets, your bare body completely revealed to his hungry eyes. “Fuck, you are beautiful. So pretty.” He groaned as his large hands grazed over your mounds and down your body to your core and down your thighs. 

“Mm, I knew you were watching me.” You purred as he spread your thighs for him, revealing your dripping cunt to his eyes. He looked up at your face with hesitation written across his face, “Don’t, mm, worry. I enjoyed it.” You smirked and reached down to take his hands into your palms and pulled one up to your breasts and the other to your cunt. “Made me feel all sorts of turned on.” 

He groaned as his finger stroked through your wet folds, “So warm and wet. All for me, bub?” He asked with a smirk teasing his lips. 

You let out a moan and nodded as his middle finger circled your bud softly. “Of course. All for you.” You hummed and you grinded your hips down against his hand. His other hand groped and squeezed your breast in his large palm. You let yourself enjoy his teasing and toying of your body before you slid your legs around his waist and flipped you two over. Logan let out a small huff of surprise and you giggled and leaned up to kiss him passionately. His hands gripped your hips tight and pulled you down to grind against his jean clad bulge. 

“You’re making a mess, bub.” He groaned as the spot on his jeans grew dark with your arousal. You bit your lip before reaching down and stripping off his shirt before moving down to his jeans, as your lips attached themselves to his neck. He groaned as you bit and sucked on his salty skin, and he helped you take off his jeans and boxers in one movement. You bit your lip as his hard and leaking cock sprung up to hit his taut stomach. 

“You’re so fucking big, Lo.” You purred as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, your small hand making his cock look huge, you couldn’t even wrap your hand all the way around the base. 

He gave you a cocky smirk, “You’ll give me a complex.” He remarked and you rolled your eyes. 

“You already have one.” You giggled and you kissed him passionately and his hands moved down to lift you up enough so you could sink down on his cock. You let out a shaky moan as he filled you up completely, your clit nuzzled against the coarse hair at the base of his cock. You panted and moaned against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “F-fuck, ah, Logan. You’re so big. M’so full.” You whined and he leaned down to kiss and suck on your sensitive neck, making pleasure course through your veins. You felt your cunt pulse and clench as your hips started moving up and down on his cock, your thighs shaking with each movement. Logan gripped your hips and helped you up and down on his cock slowly, him grunting as your walls squeezed his sensitive shaft. 

You could feel the knot already tightening with each thrust and Logan knew it, “Not yet, bub. Wanna cum with you, but not ready for this to end.” He smirked as he rolled you two over with you on your side and him behind you and he hiked your leg over his arm as he slipped his cock back into you. You moaned at the new position which made his cock feel bigger than it was. 

“M’close, Lo. You feel so good.” You whimpered as you felt yourself being pushed to the edge but then Logan slowed down, taking you back from the edge. You whined and you turned your head to nuzzle into his neck and bite and suck on his tan skin, “Please, please.” You moaned with each thrust. 

He grunted and groaned as his eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep himself from cumming, not wanting this to end too quickly and his hands squeezed any expanse of skin he could get to. “Just a little longer. Want to savor this. Don’t want this to end.” He grunted and small tears welled in your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through you. You didn’t want this to end anyway, you wanted Logan forever.

[randomstoryenjoyer]

Hey I love your stories and your 'white lily's fall' gave me an idea for a request...for a story!

Imagine a witch (y/n) at first baked cookies to try to make a friend but as they kept running away...it gave y/n an idea! If they run away...why not make a track and make em race? So now y/n bakes them to either run a normal race or an obstacle course race to the window to escape amd y/n even put something under their window to cushion their fall so they wouldn't crumble and can simply run out to join the cookie world! Also the obstacles are harmless and not deadly like if they fail an obstacle, they just land on something soft and can walk over to some stairs or a ladder and try again! Ofcourse the finish line is the window!

Oh and whenever they race, y/n chooses one cookie to cheer on as they sit to the side, watching, and hopes that said cookie wins the race...again for entertainment! Maybe they even pretend to be a racing announcer as they race!

And imagine if other cookies found out...like, one possible idea is DE flying along, plotting against the witches when they suddenly hear hearing like: "AAAAAND RED ICING COOKIE MANAGED TO JUMP OVER THAT MASSIVE GAP! SO IMPRESSIVE! THE CROWD IS GOING WILD!" followed by y/n trying to impersonate a crowd cheering like crazy! So DE goes to investigate aaaaand finds Y/n racing cookies instead of eating them! Or maybe some other cookie like gingerbrave finds them! Just some ideas but can't wait to see what you come up with for this concept and curious what ideas you'll have lol!

Possible to add on, putting this possible add on here incase ya wanna add it: Y/n also keeps track of the races and the winners in a book and also timed it to see which cookie they've baked is the fastest and if a cookie read the book, they'll know that y/n raced cookies LOTS of times!

The Witch’s game

Rugelach Cookie’s breath hitched as they swerved left to right, their little legs scuttering as fast as they ever had before… he was so close to the end… all that was left was to…

”AAAAAND TRAGEDY STRIKES! RUGELACH COOKIE HAS FALLEN DOWN! HERE COMES COCONUT FLAKE COOKIE TO SNAG THE WIN!”

With the finish line crossed and window reached, Coconut Flake Cookie stood proud and delighted as he received the witch’s praise, eventually jumping out the window. Rugelach Cookie was left to get back up and head back to his place, however, if one looked closely, they could see that he was hiding a giddy smile…

———————————————————————

Due to being a witch, your life consisted mostly of isolation, except for the odd meeting with other fellow witches here and there. Thus, you came up with the idea of creating your own friends by baking cookies to give life to! It was an easy goal to achieve… if not for the fact that every cookie you baked always ran away and jumped out the window.

This kept going for multiple baking sessions, each one making you more annoyed when the results showed no sign of changing. Eventually though, it began to make sense to you. No matter their size or origins, living cookies were still as much as individuals as anybody else, little creatures with a desire to leave the nest and live a life of their own, instead of being stuck inside a witch’s kitchen with a giant being looming over them. It was just something you had to accept.

This led to a new idea develop: if they insisted on running, why not put them through a race? From then on, your lair became a small race arena. All you needed to set up was a long path that led to the window as the finish lane, and then fill it with many different types of (non-lethal) obstacles for each race. The first cookie to reach the window would have the prize of being able to jump out of it and live in the outside world! You didn’t actually know what the cookies did in the outside world, but it didn’t really bother you.

Between races, the cookies you baked would get their own resting village inside your lair, where they could all gather around and interact with one another, most conversations being about what laid outside the windows of your lair… what existed below the glimmering moon and stars they saw every night…

As for you, you decided to make the most out of your idea, sitting to the side during the races and choosing a specific cookie to cheer on, acting like a wild crowd. The first contestant cookies you baked were a bit confused at your odd actions, but eventually began to even enjoy them.

Oh, enjoy them they eventually did. It soon got to the point where the racing cookies would begin getting weirded out if you didn’t act like a crowd going wild over the contestants. Your cheers and howls of excitement directed at them soon became the main motivation for being willing to take part in the races, to the point that they sometimes even forgot what they even were originally racing for!

Slowly but surely, talks amongst the cookies every night in the resting village shifted from wonders about the outside world to gushing over the the witch in the audience seats, mostly led by the very first racing cookies that you had baked. More recently baked cookies were swift to join the talks about you, but it was the older ones who truly prided themselves knowing the most about the witch who baked them.

Many cookies soon began seeing the races in a different light: why would they want to go to the outside world when they had you and your praises in this cozy home? Surely staying with you wouldn’t be that bad as originally thought!

During these last few days, you’ve started noticing how… clumsy some of the cookies were during the race. A bit slow of slow running, a few of them missing a some.simple jumps, and taking extra long to get back to the racetrack once they failed an obstacle… and the numbers of the cookies doing it increased day by day. Despite the fact that it opened up a bigger chance for cheers and announcements from your audience stand, it still felt a bit suspiciously random.

If only you knew just how much your presence and cheers meant to your cookies at this point…

However, these didn’t end up being the only cookies that were aware of your races, as new ones would soon know about you…

———————————————————————

Dark Enchantress Cookie was busy scouting out the area with her cake witch carrying her as always, looking for more places to build her cake army in while the rest of the cookies of darkness were busy with her other demands, when she suddenly heard a loud cheer from not too far away.

Her instincts very much telling her that this voice she heard was a dreadful witch, she made her way to the source of the sound a fast as she possibly could, expecting to see what she had seen during the fateful night of the witches.

Instead, all she found was a witch… watching cookies run from one place to another?

She stood there, just watching the scene unfold. The excited look on the cookie’s faces, the enthusiasm of the witch, the complete lack of any cruelty of mischievousness on the witch’s voice and actions. It didn’t make any sense to her at all. Witches weren’t like this. They weren’t meant to be! She saw it all in the night of the witches!

She remained still for so long that her cake witch had began to stare at her with slight discomfort, wondering why its master had gone stiff for such a long time.

Dark Enchantress Cookie remained quiet within her mixed thoughts. Seeing cookies who weren’t baked with the intention to be eaten seemed to have rattled her mind a bit. After all, her view on the witch’s uses for cookies was the whole reason she had become who she was. But now, her initial plans for Earthbread seemed to have a small flaw in it. Unprepared for this extra factor in her equation

Leaving the area before she got any more hooked onto the ongoing scene, Dark Enchantress Cookie planned to order her subordinates to come visit in this place frequently… and to inform her all they find out about you specifically.

———————————————————————

With sightings of the cookies of darkness having been reported around this area, Gingerbrave had decided to come check this place out, trying to find out what the COD’s plans in this area were.

What he didn’t expect to run into however, was the lair of a witch! His mind already bringing him flashbacks of his very first living moments, he felt tempted to just run away instantly, and yet, something in his mind kept telling him to explore this new landmark. The vibe he got from this place was… unexpected, for lack of a better word.

Imagine his surprise when, instead of seeing the worst kind of cookie torture devices or other scariest stuff that he could think of, the first thing he saw was a small village full of many cookies who were all excitedly discussing something! He was too far to hear them properly, but judging from all the chatter, it was clear they were all discussing about the same thing.

Deciding to keep exploring, he’d carry on sneaking, now laying his eyes upon every nook and cranny of his surroundings, until he jumped in surprised at the sudden loud voice:

“GOOD MORNING, COMPETITORS! WHO’S READY FOR THE NEXT RACE?!”

Peeking out of cover, Gingerbrave’s eyes widened as he took in the view. Many of the cookies from the small resting village were all lining up to the race track, all cheering and looking up at the witch that had announced the start of the race.

Once it began, his eyes almost sparkled when he saw it all. All the cookies running, looking like they were having the time of their lives, and the loud cheers you were giving towards the racing cookies, it almost made him feel a bit sad and jealous that he wasn’t a part of it…

Too distracted by the ongoing event, Gingerbrave accidentally knocked into a book that fell down in front of him and opened. Curious by your handwriting on it, he skimmed a few pages and realised that this book recorded all the races you had ever had… you’ve been doing this for a long time! And he and the rest of his fellow cookies of Earthbread weren’t aware of you? The very first nice witch in probably forever?

Beginning to see this place in a new light, he began coming up with a plan to tell his friends about this new discovery… and possibly to sneak into your lair again and maybe try to disguise as your racer cookies too… all for the chance of getting to participate in on the fun, and receiving your wonderful cheers too…

Now you have two groups of cookies sneaking into your races, trying to blend themselves in as a part of the cookies you baked. They were all confident you wouldn’t notice the difference.

You did.

[starlight727]

A little gift (part 2, no one asked for it but screw it)

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Author's note: Made a part 2 cause I'm not done with my idea, I still have something else related to the story that I wanna show you (if you're interested, of course) Also, thank you for the wonderful comments in the first part, I'm glad you liked it! I hope you like this next part as much as the last one. Now, on with the show!

Part 1

Part 2 (you are here)

Part 3

A lot has happened since you got that hat: Elder Faerie died trying to buy you some time, and White Lily became the new guardian of the Seal, which made Shadow Milk Cookie changed the performance... into a quiz show! You were jumping up and down excitedly since you were eager to answer his questions (maybe that way he'll notice you for sure!). You sat down and took a deep breath before the quiz started, everyone else was standing up and steeling themselves, ready for any tricks he might pull on them. Everyone was feeling on edge after all of the recent events, and they felt very concerned and confused about the way you reacted to everything: You barely showed worry when Shadow Milk Cookie turned the whole kingdom into his personal circus, you showed remorse when Elder Faerie died but moved on quickly as soon as Shadow Milk started talking again, and now you're excited about a deadly quiz show, what the heck was wrong with you? Everyone turned to the stage when they heard Shadow Milk speak, but Wizard's gaze lingered a bit, he was gonna find out what was making you feel this way.

"Now, for the first question! Out of these False Heroes, which one is only half a Cookie? Choose your answer carefully and don't forget: time is ticking!" started Shadow Milk, as he pulled out five poorly-drawn cardboard cutouts of the Ancients, it made you giggle a bit seeing those goofy cutouts. Wizard Cookie was keeping an eye on you as you sat there, thinking.

"Half a Cookie? Isn't that... White Lily Cookie?" you pondered whether you should give your answer or not because you didn't want to put your friends in danger if you got it wrong (and you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him). Suddenly, you hear someone else answer.

"None of them!" yelled out Gingerbrave proudly, thinking he beat Shadow Milk at his own game.

"...oh crumbs." you thought to yourself.

"WRONG!!! Let the punishment ensue! Now... Who wants to be crumbled first?" announced Shadow Milk so loudly that it startled you. You gasped in fear of what might happen to you and your friends, and Gingerbrave (that dummy was gonna get you all crumbled!!).

"The right answer is... All of them" Pure Vanilla spoke up before anything else could happen. Thankfully, that was the answer he was looking for, so you sighed in relief, gave Gingerbrave a glare and moved on to the next question. Wizard noticed you do this, he was taking note of any changes in behavior you exhibited.

"Out of these three Cookies... Who is the biggest liar? Remember, your time is running out! So don't think for too long!" said Shadow Milk as he took out Pure Vanilla's and White Lily's cardboard cutouts and an amazingly detailed cutout of himself (you could tell how much he loved himself by the amount of effort he put into it compared to the others, it made you chuckle a bit).

"Ooh, a trick question! Ok, it can't be Shadow Milk because that would be too obvious, it might be White Lily because she lied about her being Dark Enchantress, but... how is Pure Vanilla a liar?" you thought to yourself as you wondered why Pure Vanilla was part of the choices, until you heard someone speak up.

"This is easy! It's Shadow Milk Cookie, who else!" said Wizard Cookie, so sure of his answer that he doesn't even realize that it's too easy! You started sweating and fidgeting your non-existent fingers until you heard a third Cookie speak.

"Oh no, that's... too easy..." commented Strawberry Cookie, at least someone had common sense. You got lost in your thoughts, thinking about the horrible punishment Shadow Milk had prepared for all of you!

"Well then, are you ready? What's your answer?" speak of the devil, Shadow Milk came back to hear your team's final answer.

"Come on, just repeat after me! 'Shadow...'" started Wizard Cookie, you were sooo gonna strangle him and Gingerbrave after you're done here cause like... DO THEY HAVE DEATH WISHES OR SOMETHING?!

"The biggest liar is... me, Pure Vanilla Cookie." his voice snapped you out of your silent frenzy, what was he doing?? Surely he had a good reason to call himself a liar now more than ever. Fortunately for you and unfortunately for him, that was the right answer (tho you didn't like the implications of it), another breath of relief is taken, then you give Wizard a glare, and prepare yourself for the next question.

...No, you know what? You were so angry at Wizard Cookie that, in a fit of rage, you took your hat from your head and threw it at him. Oh no!! What have you done?! You tried to apologize, but Wizard, who's been holding you suspect for having strange behavior concerning the Beast of Deceit, took it and came to the conclusion that maybe it was that stupid hat that was doing something to you, so the best course of action was to get rid of it entirely by turning it into ashes via a lightning bolt he casted on it after placing it down on the ground.

"NO!!!" you shouted as you ran to the place where your hat used to be, now turned into a pile of ash and dust. You picked up the ashes from the ground, hands trembling and tears building up in your eyes, your breath shaking and your voice breaking as you squeaked out your response.

"WHY?! Why did you do that??" you exclaimed as you threw ash at Wizard Cookie, who blocked your attack from his face but still coughed from the smell of it in the air.

"It was for your own good, that hat was controlling you, couldn't you see that?!" said Wizard Cookie in an unpleasant angry tone that even he wasn't proud of. He sighed in a tired manner and continued.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I did, but you have to understand that these are dire circumstances we're facing, so we need you to come to your senses so we can finish this and leave as soon as possible, alright?" he said with a softer tone to try to make you feel better. All you could do was get up, wipe away your angry tears and look away.

"Fine." you said, holding back more tears from flowing on your cheeks. Your face was red from the surge of emotions, so you took a few deep breaths to calm down.

But privacy isn't a thing for Shadow Milk Cookie, he saw and heard everything. There was steam coming from his head, his slit eyes were so small that they looked like toothpicks, his face might turn into a different color because of how furious he was! How dare that shorty ruin your perfect gift, he worked so hard to get it to you, and now it was nothing but a pile of cinder. He swore that he would exact his revenge on that so-called wizard and his friends, a devious grin grew on his face as he remembered his final question for them.

"Don't you worry, my little star, your darling jester will take care of this." declared Shadow Milk in his head, as he prepared everything for the last question... and final showdown.

[hisui-dreamer]

hiii rinna!!! congratulations on 2k!!!!!! ˃ᴗ˂ 🫶🫶🫶🎉🎉🎉🎉agsgsh I hope I'm not too late ^^"

can I request silver with white rose? :D

foolish decisions in blossoming love

Pairing: Silver x gn!reader

Synopsis: in getting one bouquet for a friend, you ended up getting another bouquet for a stranger

Tags: meet cute, fluff, florist au, reader is just really flustered

Word count: 1.1k+

Notes: you're not late at all kei, im the one who's late ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙ i hope silver fluff makes up for it!!

Masterlist

flower of choice: white roses

white roses represent pure love, indicating that you are willing to sacrifice your all for your love

The bell tinkled gently as you pushed open the door to the quaint flower shop. Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in a symphony of fragrances, the sweet aroma of fresh blooms mingling with the earthy scent of potted plants. The air was alive with vitality, as if each petal and leaf whispered secrets of beauty and renewal.

Your gaze swept over the charming interior, your eyes drinking in the riot of colours and shapes that adorned every corner of the shop. A kaleidoscope of blossoms greeted you, their vibrant hues dancing in the soft, golden light that filtered through the windows. It was a scene straight out of a painting, a sanctuary of serenity amidst the bustling city streets.

You caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye, and your attention was drawn to the silver-haired man, positioned behind the counter. His fingers expertly arranged a bouquet with effortless skill, moving with a fluidity that hinted at years of practice. The gentle sunlight bathed his face, creating a soft halo around his silhouette.

Your heart skipped a beat as you beheld him, and your breath momentarily caught in your throat. There was an ethereal quality to his presence, reminiscent of a fairy straight out of a storybook.

"Excuse me," you finally managed to murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him, spellbound by his presence.

He looked up, his purple-blue eyes meeting yours with a softness that sent shivers down your spine. "Hello there," he replied, a smile gracing his lips. "How may I help you?"

Your mind cleared momentarily, focusing on the reason you came here. "I’m looking to buy a bouquet," you said, your voice steadier now. “My friend hasn't been feeling well lately. I thought some flowers might brighten their day.”

He nodded sympathetically, understanding the sentiment.

“I see… Is there a particular type they like?”

"Not particularly. I just want something to lift their spirits," you answered earnestly.

With a gentle nod, he considered your words, his fingers tracing over the petals of various blooms thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bouquet of lilies," he suggested, his eyes alight with inspiration. "Lilies are often associated with purity and success, making them a perfect choice to wish for a successful recovery."

You hummed at his words, a sense of wonder dawning on your face. "I didn’t know flowers carried messages…" you mumbled curiously.

He smiled warmly, appreciating your interest. "Yes, the language of flowers has been used for centuries to convey sentiments and emotions. Each flower has its own unique symbolism, allowing us to express our feelings in a beautiful and meaningful way," he explained, his passion for flowers shining through in his words.

As you watched him speak, you found yourself drawn to the grace with which he moved, the way his fingers delicately caressed each petal as if coaxing out its hidden secrets. There was something about the warmth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, that stirred your soul. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, entranced by the depth of his passion.

It was irrational of you to be so affected by a stranger. You wanted to stay in his presence, to bask in the light of his warmth and kindness for as long as you possibly could. In that fleeting moment, you found yourself inexplicably attached to him, drawn to him in a way that defied all logic and reason.

In an effort to hear him talk more, to hear his calming voice longer, you pointed to a delicate white rose, meekly asking, "What does this one mean?

His eyes crinkled as he smiled gently. "White roses symbolize pure love."

Your heart skipped a beat once again, the meaning of the flower resonating deeply within you. "Pure love," you murmured, lost in thought for a moment. 

“I’ll be right back,” Silver said, breaking you out of your thoughts as he disappeared into the back of the shop with some lilies, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your infatuation towards the gentle florist. You was barely gone for five minutes, but you already missed him, wanting to spend more time with him, to learn more about the stories that lay hidden behind his kind eyes and warm demeanour.

But how could you make it more natural? How could you bridge the gap between customer and florist? The answer eluded you, but you knew that you couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

"Here we are," Silver said, a sense of satisfaction in his voice as he walked back to your side. "I hope it brings comfort and cheer to your friend."

Your eyes shimmered with gratitude as you beheld the finished arrangement. "It’s beautiful…," you breathed, your voice filled with awe. "Thank you. I'm sure they’ll love it."

Silver’s smile brightened at your words, and you felt a surge of courage welling up inside you. With a timid yet determined voice, you finally voiced the words that had been lingering on your tongue. "If it’s alright, I'd like to request another too."

His brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. "Another bouquet?"

You nodded, bashfulness colouring your cheeks. "Yes, one with white roses, please."

A flash of disappointment crossed his face before he quickly put on a polite smile. “Of course, please wait a moment,” before disappearing in the back again.

A pang of sadness tugged at his heart as he meticulously prepared the delicate white roses. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment knowing that you already had someone in your life whom you wanted to dedicate pure love to. Despite his efforts to hide it, a faint shadow crossed his features as he arranged the flowers with practised care, his thoughts momentarily clouded by a hint of longing.

But as he showed you the completed bouquet, his feelings of melancholy were quickly replaced by a surge of warmth, your genuine appreciation for his assistance washing away any lingering sadness.

You swiftly settled the payment for both bouquets, your heart pounding with anticipation as you gathered your courage. With a determined breath, you reached out and delicately handed Silver the bouquet of white roses. His eyes met yours, a confused expression flickering across his features as he awaited your next move.

"Silver," you began, your voice trembling slightly yet resolute, "these are for you." As the words slipped from your lips, a rush of uncertainty engulfed you, but you pushed through, driven by the intensity of your emotions. "They represent... what I feel for you."

Embarrassment flooded your senses as the rational side of you chastised the idiocy of giving flowers to a florist. Could you be any more embarrassing?

Hastily, you uttered, "Thank you for your help! I hope I’ll see you more often!" Leaving behind a note bearing your number, you made a swift exit with the lilies, the jingle of the bell marking your departure.

But had you lingered for just a moment longer, you would have witnessed a rosy blush blossoming across the florist's cheeks and spreading down his neck, a loving smile spreading across his face.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[gentaro-kinniecom]

In another life, perhaps

Characters: Love and deepspace boys x gn!reader

C/w: Angst, events in which the boys remember a specific memory with you before returning to the reality. Reader calls Rafayel “Raf” for short and he calls them his beloved. First person pov !

A/n: I’ve never almost written angst before so 😭 I’m in the making of a few love and deepspace fanfics so..we’ll see <3

Xavier

It was the first time I’d see him cry. Xavier’s tears ran down his cheeks while looking up at the stratosphere. The stars seemed to shine bright for him, as Xavier turned towards me, he held my hand close to his chest where his heartbeat was. Almost as if he didn’t want to let go, I then looked up at the same starry sky that he was staring at a few moments ago. A shooting star appeared suddenly, my eyes never leaving it as I spoke.

“Did you make a wish?” I inquired, wiping his tears away while watching as he drew me closer.

“Yes, of course I did”

“What did you wish for?” His eyes were glossy as Xavier responded, brushing stray hairs away from my face.

“I wished..to have you by my side, always.” I chuckled, hitting his chest slightly as Xavier watched with an amused face.

“You’re so silly! Of course I’m going to be here forever, do you ever doubt it?” More tears streamed down his face, sitting close to the gravestone while placing some white lilies, whispering his final goodbyes

“Promises don’t last forever after all..but I’ll be waiting somewhere, if the stars allow us to meet again”

Rafayel

“Why are you crying Raf?” I asked, brushing some tears away from his face. Rafayel was pouting slightly as he kept me close, waves crashing against the shore, the only sound surrounding us.

“Who said I was crying?” He spoke, voice cracking as evidence of what he felt at the moment. My hands took hold of his shoulders, leaning against his chest while Rafayel looked at the many seashells that washed up from the current waves. I then grab his chin, pulling him down to see his eyes a bit red from all the crying.

“Your eyes say otherwise, Rafayel. Tell me, what troubles you?” Rafayel then pressed up a conch shell against my ear, allowing me to hear the sounds of the ocean while falling asleep on his shoulder. Waking up minutes later to see that I was still in his arms, a vice grip around my waist supported my body up, almost as if he was afraid of losing me.

“I don’t want to ever forget you, please, stay” My gaze falls upon the necklace around my neck, taking it off and wrapping it around Rafayel’s while smiling

“I’m not going anywhere Raf, I’m sure of that. '' The water felt cold around Rafayel’s body as he submerged himself in the depths of the ocean, trying to keep the memory of them alive, holding the necklace around him softly while staring into the vast sea.

“If only I hadn’t let you go, my beloved”

Zayne

Watching the northern lights while Zayne cried was such a rare sight to see. The always stoic doctor had been reduced to nothing but shambles at my presence, I smiled, hoping it would comfort him as Zayne’s body stood beside my own despite the cold.

“Zayne..?” His eyes looked into mine, trying to get a sense of his current reality while I felt my fingertips go cold due to the freezing temperatures.

“Don’t worry about me..but you’re freezing, allow me.” Without even asking for anything, Zayne’s hands intertwined with mine. A small smile made my worries cease a bit while he kissed my now warm hands so tenderly, what did I even do to deserve this type of treatment from him?

“Are you sure? The northern lights are a sight to behold but..” I trailed off, sitting down on one of the chairs Zayne was kind enough to bring for tonight. My hands never seemed to leave his grasp, almost as if he’d never want to let go.

“If you could ask the universe for anything, what would it be?” My sudden question made Zayne’s face light up slightly, looking at me before gazing at the sky and its beautiful spectacular. He took a deep breath before answering.

“I’d ask the universe..for more time; the one thing I didn’t have to save you and now..I’ve lost you once again.” Zayne glanced now at the empty seat beside him that contained the scarf he gifted her, holding back tears while gazing at the nightly sky.

[brittle-doughie]

Imagine steadily sneaking out of Dark Cacao's Palace, a flourbag load of pure unadulterated determination keeping your legs sturdy. Painstakingly heading for Beast-Yeast yourself to personally confront Mystic Flour Cookie, finally face-to-face.

First, your dreams. These crestfallen memories; these should not be yours, but yet they use your crust, copied down to how it crackles and crumbles. They walk with your legs and use your voice, and not meekly. Your little colorful buttons and creme filling. Through the eternal eyes of another wearing your broken face, a heavy shade of grief insisting a strong quake through your hands and feet, reflected in a broken mirror of indestructible forks and magic. None of this has ever happened to you, all your friends were alive and running free at the center of Gingerbrave's Kingdom.

Yet the firm echo at the crack of your mind reclaims; it indeed, had.

Second, that encounter and furiously attempted Soul Jam corruption with Shadow Milk Cookie, the dark jester of silken half-truths and rusty riddles; who's immortal darkness swallowed your common sense, that shadow with countless steep blue moon slits never dulled once under the unmoving gaze of the Sun.

But now, this sudden interest-an unpardoned heart from the literal pristine white embodiment of weightless apathy and sincerity?

These situations were too specific, familiar, and suffocatingly personal for mere coincidence.

The Beasts regurd you with an infectious stench of deep nostalgia, their eyes flash an infernal fire of thought, the kind one feels upon shaking hands with an old friend. The one that crawls like a bug, wiggles like a maggot. Growing the sprout of an itch, at an open chip of dry frosting the back of your head. A push, a pull, an annoying yet strong temptation of confrontation; of an acceptance, remembrances. Like they've known you since the very first crumb fell off the Witches' baking pan.

You spent this baked life depending on the protection and care of your beloved friends, but if that interferes with the truth you seek, you will risk falling apart into flour for finally having the chance to confront one of these gods about who you used to be.

Shadow Milk was serious when he countered you into an edge of existential dread. He was a frantic for the dramatics. Even for the most serious of cataclysmic events, he danced around the subject of your connection, hoping to unveil the mystery into stellar applause. That was the plan it seemed at leaat until Pure Vanilla threw a stake into his encore.

Cut through the answers.

With a mountain of luck and enough certainty, perhaps Mystic Flour Cookie will spare you doubts.

After all, even a being like her will neigh overlook such an opportunity; the chance of finally re-welcoming you, where she and the rest of her comrades know you rightfully belong.

She actually feels compelled to thank the merger weak Cookie's influence upon your new body, their mortal stupidity and curious self-preservation was an endless plague all within its very self, almost enough for her to forgive them for slowly erasing the dear memory of your once-divine mark upon these waning lands and lesser soils.

Almost.

(Sorry I have thoughts and lots of then, I hope I ain't bothering you.)

Nah, it’s all good. This was a pretty interesting read!

From what my brain of mush can put together, Y/N was a former Primordial Cookie before being reincarnated into a regular Cookie at some point, you were having dreams of this past life at first to the lead up to the search for White Lily Cookie.

The Shadow Milk fight would be the first time you started questioning on who you really were, but Pure Vanilla/White Lily Cookie pushed him back before you could get answers.

Your reputation seemed to be revered amongst the Beasts, as such with Mystic Flour Cookie. As stated, she could almost forgive the transgressions of having your memory altered, making you forget how you left your mark in these lands. You needed to remember who your allegiances should really go to, to remember who your real comrades were.

You were getting answers from Mystic Flour, in one way or another.

[mayajadewrites]

could've been you: aizawa x fem!reader x hawks

summary: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy. Nothing could go wrong... right? relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader warnings: some chapters will be NSFW, they will have a warning on them in bold. not many descriptions of reader, other than she's midsize.

ao3

TAG LIST:

@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,

@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms

CHAPTER SEVEN

this is a super smutty chapter and i'm not sorry

Your fingers grazed the petals of the roses that Keigo got you. You placed the vase in the middle of your dining table and they were undoubtably the center of attention.

Keigo is a rose. Stunning, adored by most people, and gives whoever receives them an immense sense of adornment.

Shouta is an Azalea. Specifically purple Azaleas. They need more shade in order to flourish, but they are absolute stunning once in full bloom. Azaleas also never receive a quarter of the love and recognition that roses do.

You pour yourself a glass of white wine after your first day as a teacher at UA. You're now in a cream colored lounge set consisting of pants that hug your curves and a tank to.

As you swirl your glass you glance at your phone. You're not sure why you're hoping to see Aizawa's name - he doesn't have your number and you refused to give it to him.

Keigo's name flashed on the screen. You slid the arrow to the right to answer the FaceTime call.

"Hi." You smile as you answer the phone. Keigo is in the air, you can tell by his dark red wings moving through the air.

"Tell me all about your first day!" He smiled into his phone. His yellow goggles moved with his cheeks.

"You're too cute. Well, it was good! Then I got a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from a man that just so happens to fly."

"He sounds like a keeper." Keigo flashed his teeth. Your heart rate increased when he said that. You didn't know if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. You didn't know if you wanted a boyfriend period.

Did you want to have this conversation now?

No.

So you don't.

"How's patrol going?" You changed the subject. Keigo's lips slightly lowered as his smile faded. Not too much, but noticable enough.

"It's going pretty well. League of Villains seem to be in hiding. Which worries me."

"Well at least it's quiet for now." You sigh thinking about Shigaraki. How much pain he was feeling, that in turn you had to feel but only temporarily.

"Please get home safe, Kei." You pressed your chin into your palm as you leaned on the counter. Keigo smiled at the screen - his honey coated eyes shining under the moonlight.

"I miss you." Keigo said softly.

"I miss you too. Come over on Friday and you can sleepover since it's not a school night." This makes Keigo smile form ear to ear.

"It's a date." He takes flight and you notice the screen moving slightly.

"Keigo please hang up if you're gonna fly while on FaceTime, I feel like I'm gonna be sick." You giggle.

"Sorry, I fly when I get excited." He stops moving, presumably leanding on the ground. "Have a good night baby bird."

"You too Kei. Be safe, please." You press the red button on your screen to hang up, leaving your phone on the counter.

One glass of wine turns into two. Two turns into three.

Three turns into knocking on Shouta's door.

Your body felt fuzzy. You could control your actions (mostly) but you felt more... free.

So why wouldn't you knock on Shouta's door at 11 PM?

You pressed your knuckles to the door and knocked semi-quietly.

"Eraserrrrrr." You sing as you plant your hands on your hips.

You hear footsteps and then suddenly the door is open.

Shouta is standing in front of you wearing a black t-shirt, sweatpants and slippers.

"Why are you knocking on my door at 11 PM? No boyfriend tonight?"

"I don't have a boyfriend silly." You look past his shoulder into his room. "I've never seen your room so I wanted to see it!"

"At 11 o'clock at night?"

"Yes. Why do you keep mentioning the time?"

Aizawa stared at you for a few moments, analyzing your face. "You're drunk?"

"I've had 1... 2... 3 glasses of wine!" You held up three fingers in front of his face.

Aizawa grabbed the hand you were holding up and pulled you into his room.

It's spotless, but very dark. He has one light in the corner that's on next to a comfy looking chair and a book. His kitchen is the same as yours, just decorated different.

"You're so clean." You press a finger to his counter.

"Did you think I would be dirty?"

You shook your head and plopped on his couch. "No. I don't know what I was expecting." You shrug your shoulders. Shouta sat next to you and placed a glass of water on his coffee table.

Your eyes wandered to his chest, his muscles filling out his shirt perfectly. His biceps peeked out of the sleeves, something you didn't know turned you on.

But the wetness in between your legs would say different.

His hair was in the low ponytail that it was this morning that made you cross your legs. You must've looked like you were squirming.

"Are you okay?" Aizawa leaned back on the couch and extended his arm behind you. You bit your bottom lip at his movements, unable to hold it in any longer.

"I want you to touch me." You blurt out. Aizawa stared at you through his lidded eyes.

After a few silent moments, he spoke.

"Show me where." He moved his body closer to you, your hips touching. You grab his large, heavy hand and bring it to your body.

"Here." You pressed his index and middle finger to your lips. "Here." You moved his hand to your chest, goosebumps growing along the skin of your tits. "Here." You slowly brought his hand to your aching, wet core. His fingers grazed your clothed heat gently, causing a moan to escape your lips.

"I haven't even truly touched you and I have you moaning already. How long have you been thinking about this?" Shouta's body covered yours as he brought the hand that you were using to show him where you wanted to be touched, to your cheek. His other arm is still laying behind you on the couch.

"I've thought about it a lot."

Why were you admitting this.

You could smell the mint of his toothpaste as he leaned in to rub his nose on yours, something you take note of. He did this before. He loves to kiss with his nose first. It's cute.

"Have you thought about it?" You tilt your head to the side and wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers drag through his hair.

"Only every day. Hourly, probably." He whispered and kissed your lips slowly. You take no time to deepen the kiss, opening your mouth to let his tongue in.

You're needy and he knows it. You felt his lips form into a smirk as he slid his tongue into your mouth, one hand in your hair, the other gripping your hip tightly.

You drag one of your hands down his chest to his lap where you feel his erection pressing against his sweatpants. You smile into the kiss with satisfaction, knowing you caused Shouta Aizawa to get hard.

"You're not touching that tonight." He whispers and moves your hand to his chest as he brings his mouth to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses and bites. In your drunk state, you're not thinking about the bruises he will leave behind.

"Why nottttttt." You whine as he bites down on your skin, rougher this time.

"I want you to be sober when you see it. So you remember." His words are hot against your skin as his large hand grazes your clothed core. You whimper with need, knowing your panties are soaked at this point just from kissing him.

"I need something, Shouta." You throw your head back when you feel his tongue drag along your neck to your chest, leaving bites along the front of both of your tits. He looked up at you for approval to take your shirt off, to which you nodded.

Your touches are turning desperate. You're about to come and he has barely touched you. You feverishly pulled him into you, dragging your fingernails along his back.

Aizawa pulled your shirt down, your tits bouncing out of them. He needs two hands for these, maybe three, but he's not complaining.

He left hot kisses along your right breast before he took your sensitive nub in his mouth, sucking and biting as he kneaded your other breast. Your cheeks were red from arousal as he kissed down your soft stomach to the top of your pants. He kissed your cloth core with a smirk on his face.

"You are such an ass." You squirm as he moves to his knees on the floor. Your thick thighs encase his head as he uses one hand to spread your legs apart, pulling your pants down to your ankles.

Aizawa sees your black laced panties and runs his fingers over the fabric. "These are pretty. Too bad they're about to be ruined." He pulled the side of your panties and watched them break with ease.

The sound of your panties breaking sobered you up just a little.

"Hey! These were my favorites." You whined as you looked down at him. He looked like an angel between your legs, his tired eyes gazing up at you as he planted one of his hands on your thigh.

"I'll buy you more." He mumbled as his nose grazed your entrance. You moaned quietly as you felt his tongue slide past your folds. His other hand kneaded your breast with his calloused fingertips.

Aizawa dragged his tongue down your slit, letting all of your juices fill his tastebuds. You place your hand on top of his head as he devours you.

This man is starved.

He turns his attention to your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub. Your breath hitches as his lips attach to your clit, while he inserts two of his long, thick digits into your aching pussy.

"Shouta," You moan as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

"You taste so good, baby." He mumbles as he laps up your juices. You watch his lidded eyes find yours as he continues to destroy your pussy with his tongue. His stubble tickled your thighs as he buried himself into you using his tongue.

You feel the knot in your stomach about to break as you buck your hips into his face. "Shouta, fuck, I'm about to come."

"Not yet." His words vibrate against your body.

"The fuck you mean not yet? I can't control-" His thrusts his fingers into you, curling them once they're burried in your pussy. "Aizawa, please." You whine.

He ignored you, his mouth sucking on your clit and his fingers pumping in and out of you. "I know you can do it, Princess. Don't come until I say so."

You felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter as you heard the squelches of his tongue against your clit. Your hand gripped his raven hair, pulling it gently as pleasure ripped through your body. You bit down on your bottom lip, hoping it was enough to stop you from coming.

"See you are a good listener." He smirked against your pussy. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"I want to come. Shouta, I want to come." You moaned as your toes curled. You were so close. "Please."

"Go." Was all Aizawa said before you had the most mind blowing, body changing, rippling orgasm. The knot in your stomach finally broke. You were seeing every color in the rainbow. This was euphoria.

Aizawa lapped up your juices as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. He sucked on your sensitive, overstimulated clit, sure to drink up all you had.

His hands gripped your thick, plush thighs as you he took his last slurp of your sex. His nails dug into your skin when he finally removed himself from your pussy, his face lathered in your arousal.

He wasted no time bringing his lips to yours.

"Taste yourself." He mumbled against your mouth as he slid his tongue inside of yours. "I could live between your legs and never get hungry."

Your mouth was greedy with his kisses, drunk off of not only wine but also his mouth.

Reluctantly, Aizawa pulls away from you slowly. His cheeks are a shade of red that matches his bloodshot eyes. You whimper at the loss of his touch, knowing that this was ending.

"Goodnight Princess." He kissed your forehead gently before standing up. You sat on his couch for a moment, your pussy devoured to the bone, your body bruised from love bites, and your mind was a mess.

"Night." You pull your top and pants up, and you leave.

Without another word.

[saintsenara]

idk if you have ever talk about this before but in case you havent, what do you think of the infamous "Albus Severus" Potter name? overall how do you feel about Harry's naming his kids?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i'll be honest, its infamy always strikes me as a classic case of the fandom not being able to separate what characters would do from what they would do.

because i completely appreciate that most people probably wouldn't name their children after a teacher who bullied them and a man who sent them to the death...

but harry would.

albus severus makes perfect sense as a name on the basis of who harry is, how he understands honour and lineage, how he comes to think of both snape and dumbledore over the course of deathly hallows, and how those thoughts would expand and deepen as time passes after the end of the pre-epilogue canon.

i also don't find the james and lily thing weird. i know plenty of people who are named after their dead relatives, including a couple of people who are named after murdered relatives, and it's not something anyone i know would look twice at. nor do the families of any of those people have trouble understanding them as their own person. i presume this would be considered stranger - and/or more inhibiting to a child's sense of identity - in other parts of the world, but i just understand it as something families do.

what does strike me as odd, though, is how much of this fandom forgets two things: that there are generally two people involved in naming a child; and that ginny is not a doormat.

it always seems to me that - whether people think the kids' names are suitable or not - harry is assumed to have been exclusively responsible for them, while ginny is assumed either to have been railroaded into doing what harry wanted, or to have nobly forfeited any say in the naming process because her only goal in life is to sacrifice everything to make harry happy.

[when it comes to the boys' names, at least. people do seem to go for the idea that ginny's responsible for the luna part of lily luna.]

but i think this is nonsense - and it clearly puts enough of a bee in my bonnet that i've had her say so in two pieces of my writing...

in everlasting ink:

James will be born with the cord wrapped around his neck, grey and still, and there will be hours - or maybe just seconds which feel like hours - in which she doesn't breathe, skin going cold and vision whiting, until he roars, rattly and indignant, as though being born was an unwelcome disturbance in his otherwise busy day.   That's why she'll want him to have Sirius' name. His first cry will sound like a motorbike.

and [when i finally get around to posting the next chapter] one year in every ten:

'What on earth possessed you to agree to that name?' 'I didn't agree to it. I picked it. I hope you don't think so little of Harry that you think he'd deny me a say in the names of my own children?' 'But Albus -' 'He was very kind to me. Dumbledore. After what happened... It was like I was sleepwalking. Nothing felt real. It was like I wasn't fully in my own body. And everyone was acting like everything was fine - yay, Ginny's back to normal! - and I just went along with it. I don't know why... There was this afternoon, just before the end of term, and I was trying to go down to the lake, but I'd got stuck - I guess that's the word - on the stairs. I literally couldn't move... And then Dumbledore came round the corner and he said "are you quite alright, Miss Weasley?" and I said "oh yes, I’m right as rain" and he just looked at me - you know the way he used to look at you, like he could read your mind - and it all came bursting out of me. How I didn't think I'd ever feel happy again. How I thought a little bit of me might have been left in the Chamber. How I worried my whole life had been broken by what you did to me and it would never be fixed. And he said - I'll never forget it - "there is nothing wrong with being broken, Miss Weasley, if you try to see the cracks as how the -" '"- light gets in". I should have known that was a pre-rehearsed bit of sentimentality...' 'I remember thinking about it when he died. He was lying there, broken, and I remember thinking "where's your light now?" But it turned out that he knew what he was doing.' 'That's one way of putting it...' 'And then we picked Severus for his middle name because we thought it would annoy Snape and that would be funny. And it did and it was.'