#idk it’s just the top half but I may as well tag it

[starrcrossrose]

Some sketches from this weekend. Mostly Villain Leo related, tho the bunny suit was more for laughs from my discord group.

This has been a fun expressions and poses practice I’ve been out of drawing for SO LONG it was good to get back into it, even just loosely.

They are aged roughly 25 to 28 throughout the main plot. I’m only sharing the full page here because idk almost no one is ever on my tumblr anyway LOL

[begko]

keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys. 

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience. 

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors. 

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!” 

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on. 

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?” 

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie. 

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

heya i love ur writing and i'm a whore for blue jones (mostly just oscar isaac in eyeliner)

but i love the idea of like a really soft blue. like needy but not sexually just in a 'i have a need to be around you all the time' kinda way. pining maybe? cuddles for sure and just idk i love my slimy rat man sm-

also would work for nathan bateman, his grumpiness would make that hella cute. i am surviving off crumbs at this point i will love whatever you do, your writing makes my heart feel fluffy :D

xox love ya

PYGMI I LOOOOVVEEE YOUUUUUUU! <3 <3 <3

Pout

Blue Jones x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Blue's a grumpy baby.

Warnings: Fluff, cuddles, kisses, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 549

Blue had been sitting next to you for more than an hour. Well, sitting might be the incorrect word. His chair was next to yours. He was currently doing his best to sit all over you. 

“Blue,” you mutter, “I am meant to be going over these figures… like you wanted.” 

He grumbles lightly, shifting from where his face is pressed into your stomach, his body curled over and half hanging off his chair. 

You have your left arm resting on him a little awkwardly, in an effort to actually get to your desk to read over the numbers. 

“What was that?” You prod him lightly in the side and he wriggles. 

He mumbles something intelligible and then lifts his head up to look at you, half of his short hair sticks up comedically to the side. 

“Hmm?” 

“Fuck the figures.” He repeats a little groggily. 

“Did you fall asleep?” 

He gives you a soft glare. “Maybe.” 

You can’t stop your chuckle. 

“You’re comfortable and warm and you smell nice.” 

“You have a wonderful way of making compliments sound like insults, you know that?” 

He pouts slightly, but you can tell he’s amused by how he preens a little and stretches his neck. “Come and lay down with me on the sofa.” 

“No.” 

“With blankets.”

“No.” 

“I can rest on you and we both can nap.” 

“No.” 

“Why?” He stretches the word out, his voice petulant. 

“Because,” you lean a little closer, making him think you’re going in for a kiss and then pull back quickly and he scowls. “I am checking. The. Figures.” 

He gives you a frown, lifting his hand up to smooth over his moustache before he speaks. “Where’s my kiss?” 

“Up your ass.” 

He gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen and you giggle. 

“You like this? Like upsetting me?” 

“Very much.” You smile and kiss the tip of his nose. 

He grumbles nonsense and wraps his arms around you fully before snuffling into your chest. “Unfair, so unfair, how could you betray me like this?” 

You kiss the top of his head as you go back to looking over the ledger. 

It’s only a few seconds before he speaks again. “Where are my kisses?” 

“Nowhere, not with that language.” You tease.

He tuts and you can practically feel the eye roll. “May I have a kiss, please?” 

“Now you’re making good manners sounds like demands.” 

“Does nothing ever please you?” He scoffs.

“You please me.” You whisper and you feel him shiver and untense. 

“Don’t go trying to sweeten me with your words.” He shifts closer and kisses your neck softly. 

You smile. “Give me five minutes and I’ll come and lay down with you.

“Thank you,” he breathes deeply. “You do really like winding me up don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He leans back a little to see your face. 

“You poke out your bottom lip when you frown, it’s very cute.” 

He scoffs again, someone even more indigent this time. “I do not.”

“You’re doing it now.” You say, still looking at the book.

He sucks in his lips quickly and then gives you a firm stare when you smile at him. “You’re so mean to me.” 

“You love it.” 

He pauses for a moment, wriggling and then sighs. “Yes… I do.” 

Thank you for reading!

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[sillygoosealert]

hiii🌚🌚 you should totally make a little thing where we’re running from danny during a trial and get stuck in a window while trying to vault and yk.. he fucks us from behind and it’s like a “help me step bro i’m stuck🥺” kinda position yk HEHEHE 😈😈😈

Sorry i fell off the face of the earth for a few days i had to like idk reset myself ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ

Never say step bro I'm stuck again I'm not even joking I'll block you, Stinky

Danny Johnson NSFW, raw, has no aftercare, and a little plot but mainly smut, he’s MEAN (cannon bc because he murders people), um actually he's also COCKY (cannon bc he kills people), and he calls you piggy ( cannon because he likes horror and that is a black Christmas reference) knife stuff

Fog whisps around you as you are forced into another trial. Another day another round. Is it day, or is it night? You may never find the answer.

The entity is cruel in your clothing, a skirt to your mid-thigh, and a button down. Nothing to keep in the warmth. Nothing to hide you from the reality that is the cold red forest.

You think your teammates must all be together- not including you, because a generator is done at lightning speed. Then you hear guttural screams, plural, also at lightning speed. Maybe you shouldn't get them, you'll too just die. Survival of the fittest. They won't remember the trial if you let them die, it's like they have a reset- or something.

You're crouching, lurking, and waiting. Not for long, as The Ghostface jumps out at you.

‘Boo’

He's snickering and taunting you. Mocking the screams of your now-fallen teammates.

A jungle gym is in sight, if you abuse the window and stun him, perhaps the hatch could be located. Maybe you're too tubby, or maybe because the entity is against you, but the window gets blocked from the top halfway through. You do not make it, you are stuck.

He’s snorting and making animal noises behind you.

‘What’s the entity feeding you that you can’t get through the windows?’

‘Oh, it’s blocked.’

He grabs your thighs and tries to pull you out. However, his pullout game must be weak as you do not budge.

He keeps his hands on your thighs as he whistles.

‘Can you not get out?’

‘No?’

‘Does this happen a lot?’

‘First time actually’

You're shivering, it's too much. He's too casual about it.

‘I could cut you in half and play magician, that would be rather amusing ’

‘Please don't’

‘Do you have something else in mind, piggy?’

Nothing. Actually, you're crying a little, but you don't say anything.

He starts to coo and awe at your noises, rubbing and kneading your ass.

He goes around to your other side and pulls out his camera. You’re a mess. Wiping away tears from your cheeks and eyes.

‘That's it. Perfect. That's the picture I'll keep of you.’

He’s taking a couple photo’s. More than needed. Maybe he likes it when you cry, the glossy kind of look.

‘Just me and you babe, whatever will we do?’

He snaps the band on your panties. You just realize nothing is left to his imagination from where he is now standing again.

‘Are you scared?’

‘A little’

There isn't any reason to tell the truth or lie to him. But you think he likes it when you're scared, something kinky.

The cold plastic of his mask is pressed into your ass. He's sniffing you..?

You can feel the squeeze of his hands on your thighs, groaning into them.

He takes off the mask, not that you can him. But the feel of his warm tongue is enough to assume he took it off.

But that's not the only thing to come off, as he slips off your panties as well.

Spreading open your folds, you can hear the shudder of the camera as he takes pictures of your pussy.

You know it's wet, it was dripping on your underwear. What lewd photos he now will have. Blackmail material?

He begins sucking on your clit, shoving his face into you.

Messy, unplanned, and purely out of want.

That's not how Danny usually went. Besides all the times he did things out of rage, like the laser tag incident..

After he's mixed his spit into your cunt, he's ready.

Pulling up his cloak and pulling down his pants, he stares at you.

You're pretty. And you have a nice ass.

Maybe you would make a good girlfriend, maybe.

But he just wants to fuck you right now, really hard

He pumps himself before sliding in.

He's thick, but also kinda lean?

You're shaking again, this is much too abrupt for you

Pinching your leg, he pulls out his blade.

‘A little blood never hurt anyone, right?’

He starts to cut into your thigh. His thrust growing more erotic

Putting the knife away, he smacks the place he just sliced up

Yelping, you start to cry, again.

‘I like that- you crying. Sob for me’

‘You're doing good, do you like merely laying there as you get violated? This could happen to anyone, whore or not. Does that scare you?’

A rhetorical question, he just wants you to cry while he scratches your bleeding leg.

He starts to rub your clit, whipping his knife out again.

‘Where do you want me to put my signature?’

‘It hurts- stop, please..’

Caving GF into your back is a blur to both of you, as he is still occasionally slapping your body around while thrusting considerably too hard

He pulls out and cums all over your wounds, covering them slightly in semen.

‘People would be shaking if they saw this. Are you shaking because of me?’

You didn't even realize you weren't stuck anymore. Only after you fell backward you realized.

‘I'm going to let you go back. But I want you to tell them what I did to you- scare them. Let them know they are not safe from me.’

‘Okay, I promise, I'll tell them’

He picks you up and walks around with you clinging to him.

When you are near the hatch, he puts you down.

‘A picture- for you, to keep’

He's sitting with you on the ground, keeping you in his lap. Putting his face right next to yours- actually, you don't remember when he put the mask back on. You didn't get to see his face.

The light hurts, but he gives you a little polaroid with the two of you face to face, cheek to cheek.

It would be cute if he didn't just cut up your legs

Tucking the photo into your bra, he drops you into the hatch. How kind of him.

He waves goodbye, you do not wave back.

It wasn't bad, it was just a lot. Rushed? Scary? Harmful?

Kinda hot, but you really hope he doesn't keep those photos. For blackmail reasons..

🎀

[bitchlessdino]

Would you like a receipt? Pt. 1

In Valentines collaboration with @svthub hosted by my wifey @wongyuseokie, pt 2 out now! Pairing: Childhood bf!junhui x working class gn!reader Genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life Word count: 2.9k tags: second chances, exes to ???, childhood friend/boyfriend!junhui, spontaneous dates, misunderstandings, smut in part 2!!! Summary: Coming across a grade school ex-boyfriend while you worked a shitty seasonal job around Valentines was not in your 2024 bingo card. author note: to sweet mio at @skyechild i apologize in advance for making you wait for the second half. I promise it'll be worth the wait. but yes! i am your one and only cupid. I hope you enjoy what i have so far. And to answer your ask, idk if i have a favorite thing about myself? Maybe it's the constant desire to look for new things to improve on or my attitude in trying new things? What i look for other people is pretty simple tho. That would be ease. I'd like if someone felt comfortable with me and vice versa. if i can make someone's day by making them laugh or just existing then that would be great. happy valentines day mio! From yours Truly, Cupid💘

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

Valentine's Day has always been a bit of a hit or miss for you. The last time you remember eagerly anticipating the holiday was back in high school. Since then, the allure of celebrating love and romance seemed to fade away, as you realized that not everything in the world is adorned in shades of pink and red. Valentine's Day became a luxury, a whimsical indulgence that felt distant and impractical for someone navigating a world that often left little room for such extravagances. Life, for you, was a series of tasks, responsibilities, and the constant juggling act of making ends meet.

From the time you were in high school, you entered the realm of adulthood, where dreams sometimes took a backseat to the more immediate needs of providing for your family. The dreams you put on hold lingered in the recesses of your mind, awaiting their turn to be fulfilled. Working tirelessly, you made sacrifices, dedicating yourself to a job that demanded your energy and time. Despite the challenges, you pressed on, ensuring the well-being of your family, who toiled alongside you, if not even harder.

Now, as an adult working a part-time job that offers a slightly better paycheck than your previous one, you’ve grown used to the matter. While the financial gains may not be monumental, every improvement counts, especially when compared to the downfalls of your previous workplace.

Amidst the whirlwind of your daily hustle, Valentine's Day transforms into a distant echo of the past–a time when celebrations were carefree and seemingly attainable. However, for you, navigating the world feels akin to maneuvering on an almost empty tank. In this moment, mere existence becomes a means to sustain yourself.

“Is this a gift? If so, would you like it to be gift-wrapped for you?”

The middle-aged man raises an eyebrow, smacking that mint gum that doesn’t seem to mask his nicotine-coated breath. “Is it extra?”

“It’s two dollars extra.”

Usually, you’d really sell the idea that the highest premium quality wrapping paper would be used to then be topped off with a satin ribbon that truly pulls it all together, but for such a customer, you know you’d be wasting your breath.

He scoffs, snatching the bag off the counter. “Are you trying to scam me? Fuck that shit.”

You let a sigh of relief slip past your lips the moment he made his way out the sliding door, muttering to yourself about the smell. You reach down for your Powerade hidden on a bottom shelf of the counter you stand behind, hoping this supposed ‘power’ would relinquish itself to you for another long shift.

It’s the day before Valentine's Day, which means the rush has become a regular occurrence since about a week ago. The store is bursting with vibrant displays of flowers, stuffed animals clutching oversized lollipops, and decadent heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Not such a bad gig if you look at it.

However, the true predicament lies in the presence of aggressive customers, drawn to discounts like magnets. They're all about grabbing anything and everything that's on sale, making things more complicated than they need to be. It's like they're trying to see how far they can push things and make your day even crazier. Dealing with them adds an extra layer of chaos to the already busy scene as if you haven’t lost faith in humanity enough.

“I bought this yesterday and it’s DIGUSTING! I want a full refund and extra compensation for my time and taste buds being wasted on this disgusting excuse of a candy.”

Popping open the box revealed a sorry sight–almost half the candies were missing as if they'd gone on a little taste adventure without an invite. The poor box looked like it had been through a candy apocalypse, so messed up that I couldn't even be sure if it originally belonged to our store.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry you're dissatisfied with our products. However, because the box is so damaged and half of the contents have been consumed we cannot accept this return,” you respond in your most polite service voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell is your manager? The customer is always right!”

At last, a wave of relief crashes over you like a superhero arriving just in the nick of time during closing hours. The once bustling crowd has dwindled, allowing you to begin the task of rearranging items and securing the cash register, signaling the imminent conclusion of yet another busy day.

Just when you're on the verge of clocking out and calling it a day, a sudden interruption unfolds at the entrance. A lone figure materializes outside, softly tapping on the glass as if pleading to be granted entry.

"Please," his voice is all muffled through the glass, "I know you're about to close, but pretty please! I just need to grab something real quick. I already know exactly what I need!"

It’s not every day you see a man of his looks and caliber beg to be given access to a candy store as if he were a determined child. There's this undeniable air of urgency about him–as if he’d die if we didn’t get what he needed–but it doesn't overshadow his perfectly proportioned features that illuminate under the evening street lights. Ultimately, you decide to approach the door, swiftly undoing the top lock of the door and allowing him inside.

He expresses his gratitude with a grateful clasp of his hands, swiftly navigating through the inventory to grab what he urgently needs. Returning to the counter, you initiate the process of unraveling the closing procedures, all the while fervently hoping that no one else decides to join the stranger in last minute browsing.

"Sorry," he apologizes as he drops his items on the counter: several heart-shaped boxes and a bear clutching a mini Mylar balloon that shouts 'I love you,' with a small box of chocolates in its other paw. A classic and popular choice.

“That’s a lot of chocolate. Big family?”

He shakes his head, "Nah, these are for a company thing. I've been busting my butt for weeks, and the one simple task I get, I can't even manage it until the last minute."

"Got it. And the bear? Picking up a last-minute surprise for your girlfriend too?"

A slightly offended look crosses his face. "Oh, if I had a girlfriend, I’d do way more than make up my tardiness with a teddy bear.” He holds the fluffy creature in his hand, “This is just for my mom. So, if you ever spot a lady with my face and long hair, please, keep it on the down-low."

You chuckle softly, bagging up his purchases. "I'll remember that. Cash or credit?"

He extends his hand, revealing his credit card with his full name on display. As you sound out the name in your head, it strikes you as unique yet oddly familiar. You run the card through the machine, unaware that the customer is squinting at you, also trying to place where he might know you from.

"Hey, have we met before? You seem really familiar," he questions.

"Uh, not sure, but your name does ring a bell," you reply as you hand the card back. "Haven't come across too many Wen Junhuis."

"Wait, how do you know my name?" he questions.

"Well, it's on your credit card, sir," You respond with straightforward precision.

"True, but no one has picked it up as quickly and accurately as you did. Maybe we do know each other."

You shrug. "Maybe so. I think the last time I heard a name like that was back in elementary school. A classmate maybe."

"Hold on, you couldn't be Y/n, right?" he questions, his eyes widening with realization.

You take a brief pause to grasp the implication, acknowledging it with a nod. "Been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

His smile widened across his cheeks, evoking memories of a similar grin on a boy more than half his age. "Yeah. Well, I be damned. I'm surprised you remember my name."

"It's pretty distinctive; I'm surprised you remember mine."

He scoffs. "You are a core memory, thank you very much. One of the nicest and coolest people in our grade. God, remember our first Valentines?"

"Yes," you softly chuckle, the memories of childhood innocence flooding back. "I begged my mom to get these really nice scented Valentine cards to give to the class."

"And you gave me the lemon one because I love lemons, and I gave you one of the hologram cards of a cat that smiles when you flip it on its side."

"I was so excited to show my sister, and I just know she was so jealous."

"Yeah, where did the time go?" he sighs, his smile turning wistful on his lips.

You shake your head, still smiling from the unexpected trip down memory lane, and finally, hand off his gifts back to him. "Would you like a receipt?"

"No, I'm good. So,” He leans over the counter curiously, “What are you doing this Valentine's?"

"Working the day. I'll probably just grab takeout for dinner and head home. You?"

"It's a workday,” he says proceeding to grab his things. “So most of the day is spent in the office. But, I'm free the rest of the evening…would it be weird if I asked you out for Valentine's Day?" he nervously proposes.

You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback but intrigued. "You want me to be your Valentine?"

"Couldn't hurt," he nonchalantly shrugged, a wry grin playing on his lips. Then, as if a light bulb flickered to life above his head, an idea dawned on him, sparking mischief in his eyes.

"Unless you've got a 200-pound, all-muscle boyfriend ready to beat my ass," he quips, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. The words linger in the air, forming a playful challenge and a subtle admission that, just maybe, he wasn't entirely impervious to consequences.

It harks back to a past altercation, one of those rare 'couple quarrels' you had. The promise was made in jest—that you'd leave him if he ever pulled on your hair again, and he'd have to face a burly 200-pound muscle man. Though uttered in humor with no evidence of said muscle man, it struck a chord of genuine concern in his little boy heart, and he kept that promise until the end of your relationship. The memory lingered, manifesting now in an unmistakable charm, a blend of audacity, bravado, and humor that fills the air with laughter and unadulterated ease.

You chuckle. “Lucikly, I don’t, but I don’t know you. Who knows what kind of person you, or I, have become in the last fifteen or so years? Maybe I'm a bitch.”

"Well, as long as there’s no one else in the picture, I see no problem. Bitch all you want to me." he grins.

Your expression shifts into a playful contemplation, "Why me? I'm pretty sure there are plenty of people out there dying for a dinner date with you. I mean, the last thing we shared was a juice box."

"Maybe I'm hoping to reignite an old spark. If I recall our MASH game correctly, we were supposed to be living in a shack with 20 kids, a dog, and daily commutes on a scooter," Junhui retorts.

"Thank goodness that scenario never played out, but, um, I'm not sure dinner is a good idea."

As the banter unfolds, you realize it's been an eternity since you've experienced the thrill of a proper date. The mere thought of dressing up, the nervous excitement before meeting someone, and the shared laughter over a romantic meal become fragments of a distant past, like pages in a cherished novel stored away on a forgotten shelf.

“We never know unless we try, right?” He says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You always hit on exes that you stumble upon on a random Tuesday?”

“Only the pretty ones.” Junhui grins, swiftly extracting a candy box from the bag. With a quick scribble on the side, he hands it to you. “If you change your mind. Happy Valentine's Day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept the candy. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Jun.”

You depart with a box of candy in hand when your shift ends, Junhui's number hastily scribbled on the top, the ink still fresh as that abrupt encounter. As you make your way home, the city lights shimmering in the distance, you find your thoughts circling back to his audacious proposition.

The weight of the candy box seems to mirror the gravity of the decision before you. The city streets, now quieter in the late evening, echo with dilemma of pursuing his offer. You can't deny the charm that lingers in the air—a mix of confusion, nostalgia, and an unexpected connection. The mere act of considering his offer adds a layer of excitement to the night, anticipation for plans that have been yet set in motion.

As you unlock the door to your apartment, the scent of familiarity welcomes you warmly for once, likely due to the refreshing end of your night. You set the candy aside–already having memorized Junhui's number–and with a decisive tap, you enter his number into your phone. The screen lights up with his name, a digital beacon inviting you to venture into uncharted territory. As you send a quick message, the city outside continues its gentle hum, and you can't help but feel giddy. You’re eleven all over again.

The memory of Junhui's charismatic grin lingers in your mind, a subtle tug at the edges of your thoughts the moment you hit send, and you throw the phone aside, letting yourself get rid of the electrifying nerves running through your body. When you hear the notification going off–Junhui’s name on display–you realize there’s no going back.

The following day, you’re excited about living for once. Delighted to have something to look forward to after work, you board today's bus with a genuine smile on your face, a subtle change that doesn't escape the notice of the bus drivers, who have grown accustomed to your early presence by now.

As the bus carries you through the familiar townscape, you can't help but revel in the subtle shift in the air. The usual humdrum of daily life seems to have given way to a vibrant undercurrent of anticipation for the holiday. The ordinary scenes outside the window take on a slightly pink hue, and you find yourself savoring the details that often go unnoticed illuminated with festive decor.

Work hours also pass with a newfound energy, and the anticipation for the evening grows with each passing minute, even with the rambunctious customers buying more gifts just in the nick of time. The mundane tasks of the day become a mere backdrop to the vibrant scene that awaits you once the clock strikes the end of the workday.

Today, the world outside the candy store seems to radiate brighter than any other day has. The street lights gradually flickering on, usually just a backdrop to your daily grind, now beckon with a promise of surprises. As the day unfolds, you find yourself counting down the hours until your appointment time arrives and you quickly change into your Valentine's date attire, anticipating Junhui's reappearance.

Time moves forward—one hour, two hours, three hours. Doubts begin to creep in. Were you merely indulging in wishful thinking at this point?

The rose-tinted glasses, which once painted the day with a hopeful hue, must have started to expire. Now, a subtle gray takes over, bringing you back to the stark reality of the passing moments. The initial excitement begins to wane, replaced by a tinge of disappointment and a hint of uncertainty.

As the clock ticks away, doubts and questions swirl in your mind like a gathering storm. The vibrant anticipation that once filled the air begins to dissipate, leaving behind a quiet unease.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror, the Valentine's date attire now carrying a touch of wistfulness. The city outside, once alive with the promise of a special evening, now takes on a different tone. The street lights, initially beacons of excitement, cast shadows that dance with anxiety and unease. The imminent arrival of buses amplifies a fleeting thought–maybe, just maybe, you can still catch it if you run.

Taking a leap of faith, you hastily gather your belongings and make your way to the bus station, adhering to your initial plan—opting for takeout in the solitude of home, if restaurants are still an option at this hour. Amidst the uncertainty, your phone succumbs to the lack of power, its screen plunged into darkness, mirroring the tone of your night.

The familiarity of home brings no comfort, only disheartenment. You set aside the dinner you had envisioned for tonight, plugging in your phone to replenish its drained battery, intentionally avoiding any further interaction with the outside world for the remainder of the night.

When your phone finally regains its power, messages burst to life in an instant, one particular message standing out, beckoning attention. That is, of course, if you were still around to witness it.

Junhui: I’m so sorry! You will not believe the day I had. My office was bombarding me all day with extra work and i only left now. Please tell me its not too late.

P.S. and here's that valentine i wanted to give to you <3 i hope you like it as much as this fic so far

[bonezone44]

hello, my dearest Rad 💛

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving you from the distance!)

a/n: please forgive me, lol! Idk why I wrote Reader like this. thank you for this prompt @iamasaddie from like... last month, lol!

tags: brat tamer!Jack, step-dad!Jack, unprotected p-in-v, spanking, overuse of the word "whore"

!!This story is for ages 21+!!

-----One look from your Uncle Jack could send anyone to their knees. The man had an effortless smolder that weakened even the strongest of bulls.

But you weren't as easily influenced by his wily expressions. Not to say that you weren't weak for the man--you certainly were. But it took more than a stern eye to make you surrender to his whims.

It was spring time and your mother was hosting a garden party. It was any excuse to round up your mother's colleagues and show off her skills (paying people with real skills to do all the work). And while she was parading around the manicured lawn in a tailored linen dress that accentuated her petite hourglass figure, you wandered out the back door half-asleep in cut-off jeans and flip flops, aching for a cold can of brewski.

"Oh my heavens!" Your mother exclaimed with a weary breath, her hand pressed delicately to her chest. She hurried gracefully to her new beau, the man you called Uncle Jack "Jackie!" She cried out in a hushed whisper, tugging him away from his socializing.

Jack did his best not to wince at the sound of your mother's affectionate nickname for him, and just follow along. He learned it was best to do whatever the woman said. "Whats wrong, darlin?"

"Why is she doing this to me?" Your mother cried.

"Who?"

"My daughter!" She pointed one long dainty finger in your direction.

You scratched your belly beneath the crop top loosely covering your chest. You nudged a few party-goers out of the way so you could dig through the cooler that was reserved for the more masculine revelers. You pulled out a silver can, popped it open, and started chugging.

Jack took one look at ya and sighed. 'There ain't no rest for the wicked, is there?'

"Alleged daughter, anyway," your mother huffed and shook the hair from her face. "That child must have been switched at the hospital," she murmured. "No daughter of mine would ever disgrace her mother like that. No, sir!"

Jack rested his hand on your mother's trembling shoulders. "Want me to go talk to her for ya, darlin'?"

"Of course I want you to go talk to her, you imbecile!" your mother strained to keep her voice low. "Take her upstairs and put some decent clothes on her!" She paused, rolled her shoulders back, and plastered a poised smile on her face. She turned about-face and rejoined the party.

Jack sighed again, jaw twisting. With a flurry of conflicting thoughts racing through his mind, he stomped resolutely in your direction.

---

You didn't know what the hell was going on. You had been out all night with your friends and suddenly you wake up and there's a bunch of people at your house. Once you made it downstairs, you figured your mom was having one of those little shindigs she likes to have sometimes and you figured you'd stay out of the way like you usually do.

But hey, if they were all gonna day-drink, you might as well join 'em. So you went and grabbed a Coors from the cooler next to the barbecue and suddenly Jack's got his big hand wrapped around your arm and he's tugging you back inside.

"Ow! What the hell, man?"

"What the hell is right," he growls in your ear, but nods quite politely to the people he passes by in the kitchen with you in tow. He yanks you all the way up the stairs while you desperately try to keep the beer in your hand from spilling on the carpet. He shoves you into your bedroom and slams the door behind you. "What is goin' on in that silly li'l head o' yours, sweetheart?" He points toward your window. "Your mother is entertaining guests and you show up lookin' like you just got ran through by some good for nothin' in the back of his pick-up truck."

You smirk. "Well, I see where your head is at, Uncle Jack." You giggle. "Picturin' me gettin' ran through." you flick your hips back and forth.

"I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout, li'l missy, but you better hurry up and get changed before comin' back down to this party." He stands there, between your bed and the door, with his hands on his hips. He doesn't move. He doesn't turn around. He's not leaving the room to let you change your clothes. He plans on watching you do it.

And you decide to let him. You've been teasing him for long enough. The poor man deserves it after all he's been through (putting up with your momma for the past 2 years).

You release an exaggerated sigh. "If it'll make you happy, Uncle Jack--"

"Oh it will," he spits. his nostrils flaring.

You shrug. "Then okay." You lock eyes with him and grab the hem of your crop top. He still doesn't move. You slowly bring the shirt over your head and toss it to the floor.

His chest puffs up. "You were down there around all those people in half a t-shirt and you weren't even wearing a bra?" He snarls.

You cup each breast and pinch at your nipples. "What? A grown man like you has never seen titties before?"

He stomps closer to you. His breaths start heaving. You think he might strangle you with how wild his eyes get. It's kinda cute when he gets all mad at you. "Get. Dressed."

"Well, I'm guessin' Momma doesn't like my shorts, so I gotta take these off, too." Your eyes never leave Jack's. Your gaze is tethered to one another. It keeps you both from looking elsewhere. You know he's hard. You can see it out the corner of your vision. You wonder how far you can push him before he does something about it. You undo your shorts and shimmy them down below your hips--enough that they fall to your feet and allow you to step out of them.

Jack's eyes finally shift down. He turns livid. "And what the hell is this?" He grabs the red strap of your underwear and snaps his against your skin. "What is wrong with you walkin' around like some two-cent whore?"

"Uncle Jack!" you roll your eyes and laugh. "I only wear 'em 'cause of how good they make my ass look." You turn around and bend over onto the bed, sticking your rear in the air. You look at him over your shoulder. "See?"

Next thing you know, your yelping and falling forward from the powerful smacks of Jack's hand against your ass--slapping you again and again. "WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU." His fingers grapple your g-string and he rips it off your body. "After all your momma's done for you?" He growls in your ear, his warm body heavy on top of you. You feel his hard cock pressed against your leg. "This is how you treat her?"

You try to shove him off, but he's too heavy. Your ass stings and all you can do is turn your head to the side and growl at him back. "You have NO IDEA what my momma's done to me!" You cry, tears prickling out.

He yanks you by the hair so he can look you in the eyes again. "I know there ain't no mother on God's green earth that deserves an ungrateful whore of a daughter like you."

Your tears turn into outright sobbing.

He shoves your face into the mattress and gets off of you. "Cryin' don't work on me, little girl. Not no more." You hear his belt buckle jingle and turn over on your back. Your soft sheets feel rough on your sore bottom. "You need some goddamn discipline fucked into you." His zipper is loud as he undoes his pants and pulls out his raging cock. He strokes it above you and your pussy drools. You go to touch yourself and he slaps your hand away. "Goddamnit!" he spits. "Turn over! I can't even stand to fuckin' look at ya right now." You do as your told and he wastes no time spearing himself into you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he curses and sets a relentless pace. "Your cunt's wetter than a goddamn slice of tres leches. All that spankin' just turned you on? Huh?" You moan and whimper into the thick of the bed beneath you. He stops thrusting and pulls you up again by the hair. "Hey! I'm talkin to you, girl! You better answer if you know what's good for ya!" You nod fervently, scared by the crazed look in his eyes. "No, no. I need to hear it, li'l missy!"

"Yes, Uncle Jack," you blubber through your tears.

"Yes, what?" he grits his teeth. his cock pulses as it sits inside of you. your insides burning deliciously as they accomodate his girth.

"Yes, I--" you swallow your spit. "Yes, a-all that spankin turned me on."

He shakes his head and huffs. "Nothin' but a two-cent whore," he mutters and goes back to fucking you. "Fuckin filthy," he says as one of his hands wraps around your chest, groping and pinching your breasts with imprecision. "Let Uncle Jack's big cock get you right, darlin'." He grunts, his cock stroking your walls and waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "I'll give this tight little cunt what it needs." He groans and leans back. His hands grip your hips and you can feel his balls slapping against you. You wanna reach back and hold them in your hands, lick up the seam of skin in the middle and glide your tongue along his dick. "Goddamn. That cunt's got me lassoed up real tight." His fingers dig deep into your flesh as he hammers into you. "'M 'bout to shoot. Nnnggh--"

"Yeah?" you whimper, excitedly.

Jack's quick to react. His body falls on top of you, wrapping a hand around your mouth, the other around your waist. His thrusts grow deep and erratic. "You shut your goddamn mouth, little whore. This ain't about makin' you feel good. This is about makin' you shut up and do as your fuckin' told, alright?" He doesn't wait for your answer. He's got you wrapped up so tight you can't even move if you wanted to. He stops speaking and all you can hear is him hissing and his teeth clacking together every so often. Then with a loud, deep groan, his hot spend begins pumping inside of you and coating your walls. His grip on you loosens and before you know it, he's gone. Your body is cold. All the goodness you had been feeling has disappeared.

You turn over and see Jack tucking himself back inside his jeans. You both watch as his sticky white cum leaks out of your hole and soaks into the bed sheets. He buckles his belt and asks, "Now what do you say, huh? For makin' Uncle Jack put you right?"

He won't look you in the eyes, still staring between your legs. So you reach down with two fingers and scoop his cum back inside of you. "Thank you, Uncle Jack."

He clears his throat. "That's right." He turns around and before leaving your room he says, "Next time you need to get put right you come find me." He looks over his shoulder. "You don't wanna find out what's gonna happen if I gotta find you first, li'l missy. Now, get dressed." He adjusts his t-shirt in your doorway and the next thing you hear are his bootsteps echoing through the hall and down the stairs.

-------------------

additional tags: @xdaddysprincessxx

[our-flag-means-love]

welcome to elliot flagmeanslove's

STEDE BONNET OUTFITS TOURNAMENT

do you have Opinions about stede bonnet's outfits and need to make your voice heard? well you're in luck! there's now a bracket for that!

round one (left half) starts around midday EDT on saturday, july 27th, and each round will last a week.

please consider reblogging to spread the word!

idk if this has been done before but i don't care i'm doing it anyway <3

additional info, guidelines, and image description under the cut!

i'll be tagging all the polls with "ofmd" and "stede bonnet", but if you're not interested and don't want them clogging up the tags, you can block "stede outfits tournament".

voter fraud all you want, i'm not a cop.

there will be no variations of the same outfit (e.g. nightgown with cap compared to nightgown with eye mask) with ONE exception that felt important, which was the full godfrey thornrose outfit and the outfit in the "you wear fine things well" scene, aka godfrey minus the jacket and wig.

there are a few variants with the battle jacket and depression robe, and i didn't want to narrow it down to just the ones with the nightgown or just the ones with a shirt and breeches, especially because those overlap with other entries too, so the battle jacket and depression robe are both just In General.

there were also a few minor outfits i just plain had to cut in order to reach a power of two. sorry to the outfit from when stede left home and both of his childhood flashbacks, maybe next time.

these were seeded partly randomly but mostly by my own judgment, because ime random seeds always feel even less fair. i first sorted them based mostly on aesthetic appeal and general fandom opinions—but also importance of scene(s) to a lesser extent—into groups of four (all the #1 seeds, all the #2 seeds, and so on), then randomized which would be in each quadrant, then played around with them a bit to make them pretty from there (roughly even distribution of s1 vs s2, not all episode 4 flashbacks are in the same quadrant, etc). if you have a problem with this, no one's forcing you to participate.

[ID: A tournament style bracket. It has "Stede Bonnet's Outfits Tournament" written at the top. The background is a half-opacity photo of the bow of The Revenge. The bracket is made up of a series of rectangular white bubbles, connected in pairs. On the left half of the bracket, the first column has sixteen bubbles, the second has eight, the third has four, the fourth has two, and the fifth has one. This arrangement is mirrored on the right half. In the center of the image is one larger bubble with "Winner!" written under it.

Only the thirty-two total bubbles in the outermost columns contain words. From top to bottom on the left are: turquoise suit (1.1); nightgown (1.6-1.8); blankets only (wink emoticon) (2.7); wedding suit (1.4); steve irwin (1.7); dream (2.1); depression robe (1.7-1.8); run me through (1.6); goldfish (2.3); peach suit (1.6); brown suit (1.8); theatre kid (1.6); slut era (2.6-2.8); act of grace (1.9); ed's leathers (1.4); and naval academy (1.9). From top to bottom on the right are: cursed suit (2.5); meeting mary (1.4); back home suit (1.10); battle jacket (1.1-1.6); godfrey thornrose (1.5); anniversary (1.4); cut-open shirt (1.2); red flag (2.2-2.3); YWFTW (1.5); long may he roam (1.10-2.5); blue suit (1.5); fab pants (1.4); ran aground (1.2); treasure map (1.7); white suit (1.3); and british uniform (2.8). All of the inner bubbles are blank. /End ID.]

[15-lizards]

mrs. reed i have an important question pls. or two actually. it's for fanfiction purposes and also i am obsessed with ur fashion and hair headcanons and regularly check the tag for updates.

how would a fem!selmy character dress ? also important note she spends a lot of time in braavos.

how would a fem!halfdornish half volantene character dress? she also grew up enslaved so not a big fan of red priests OR volantis.

how would a fem!house strong character dress? it's viserys' court in the late (rotting corpse) stages and she's very ambitious. thankyyy

it's very specific but maybe a challenge considering? idk i love your headcanons and want to know your thoughts but feel free to totally and completely ignore/generalize more :))))

Let me read ur fic!!

Selmy girls, to me, dress very down-to-earth casually, with a preference for golden yellow colors. The top gown she might wear in Westeros, plain and long sleeves gowns that may or may not be fitted to her, depending on whether she has a surcoat/overgown on as well. The left is a mash of Pentos/Stormlands she can wear in either place. It has the cut of an average gown she might wear in Westeros, but the overcoat, the belt, the headpiece, and patterns are inspired from her time in the Pentoshi ports. The right is a full-Pentoshi gown (shout out to the Chechen culture for his one) with a simple cut and silky fabric to wick away sweat. Metal jewelry and accessories like belts and brooches hand crafted by Essosi artisans, and of course a loose veil/scarf/head wrap to protect her head from the sun

For your dornish-volantene girl, she might scorn all finery from or that reminds her of Volantis. She wears long strips of light cloth wrapped around to make a loose skirt or pants, and another bolt to create a wrapped top of some kind, and that’s it. Nothing heavy or golden, just something that can give her ease of movement and also not remind her of her enslavers. If she was ever in Dorne, she most likely would adopt that style of clothing, especially on the coasts or in the sands, where there is far less shade than in Volantis. Simple, square cut gowns of cotton that are decorated by incredibly detailed embroidery and other types of patterns. Again, a veil or headscarf is useful in Dorne, but some situations may require full facial coverage from the sun

Unnamed Strong sister my beloved. Bringing her to court while she’s still a young girl, she is dressed as the innocent she is. White gowns with colorful borders and flowery patterns, short puffed sleeves, ringlet curled hair, and a lace neckline high enough to be considered appropriate for a young girl. As she grows up, she starts wearing finer gowns (perhaps from Rhaenyra’s closet), soft silk with gilded lining, neckline pushed down low enough to get a courtiers attention. Once she’s a grown woman, she is far more comfortable, wearing Targaryen colors to symbolize her favor with the crown (or green, depending on which side she’s on). Off the shoulder necklines and flatter sleeves symbolize that she is a woman now, not a child. Many layered gowns with cloth of gold underskirts show off her new wealth.

[eri-pl]

@edennill I just had an… well, not epiphany because it's not theological, but an insight or something. Tagging, you, because a) it may be interesting b) you often wonder (in frustration, I think) why do people make so much fanart of the bad guys. (Tagiing you doesn't mean the later rhetorical "you" is you. It's a different you. Huh. Maybe we should start using "thee", it would make things easier.

Why do we deny canon characteristics of characters?

(long post below cut, no triggers, kind of fandom discourse-related but tries to empathise with both sides?)

(It's rhetorical "we", I am trying to not do it. But I'm 40 and got many things sorted out. Probably still do it anyway, esp around kidnap fam)

Imagine: you suffer. You read about a character that suffers in the exact same way, or at least a way that rings a bell in your heart.

This is you.

So you love them, you try to defend them, they didn't deserve it — you didn't deserve it — extept it turns out they kind of did deserve it. And all the unsaid accusations you felt from people — well turns out for the character they're true. So are they true about you?

Of course it would be most natural to unlink yourself from the character, but that's not how human brain works. also, unlinking it would be very painful and take a lot of time and effort (and still may not work) and often feels like betraying yourself.

So you fight. For your dignity.

So you fight against people correcting you with things that are actually in the book.

…I legit think it's how it works usually. (Of course, echo chambers and unwillingness to factcheck are a thing too, depends on the person probably.)

So when we engage with someone speaking about their beloved character and it's OoC — there are, at least partially, speaking of a part of themselves. And, while it's technically true, telling someone "a part of you commited [insert a Silm-typical deed here] is very painful.

(Aaaand now the rhetorical "you" is again my friend Edennill, because I can't into rhetorics…) When you engage with someone hyping about Sauron, there are two three Saurons in the conversation: yours (obvious. the Númenor stuff and all other stuff), canon (very similar, maybe with more focus on other evil stuff and not Númenor on top position, idk, anyway close), and theirs (a child who wwas told too many times that they are unforgiveable, or something like that + also has flaming hair and cool ring).

What to do with it? I have no idea what to do with it, except the obvious.

I'm looking for ideas.

And yes, people do project on the good characters too, and criticizing those characters hurts in the same way, only it's also factually false (usually, because not all characters are black and white). I know. I don't mean to say that the "good guys" are ok to criticize and the "bad guys" not, or that book canon should be not spoken about.

Maybe the answer is just "don't hate characters to their fans"? (Facts and hate aren't the same, but with facts, there's still a need for compassion and getting a feel when to say what)

Truth is an important thing. Yes. Truth about what's in a book…. still it is a thing worth saying. Especially when the book is as good (even with it's problems and kitchen sinks) as Silm is. But as I said, empathy or something is needed?

IDK, I'm still figuring it out.

I think I've kind of know this for a long time, half-consciously, but today I had a moment when something clicked and things started making much more sense. Like: why people do have takes that are so far from canon and still call the character the same character. It does make sense in the contaxt...

(Also, no: I'm not like that with Melkor, I'm much more aware of my stuff and of what's canon and what not and I can switch between perspectives… But as I said, I'm old. It comes with some amount of wisdom. Funnily I can deal much better with people hating him than hating Maglor. But I can deal with people hating Maglor (filtering too counts as "deal with" ;D) and I can admit all the stuff he did in the book and that he's a coward, and all that (relateable). I just feel sad when people say he deserves all the worst.)

[destinyc1020]

it almost becomes sympathy or this feel sorry narrative everytime you hashtag woc or black. That’s why it gets annoying

I don't post things like that for a "feel sorry" narrative" though.

Why should me pointing out the obvious, that Zendaya MAY have also received backlash for her "Challengers" role (among many OTHER reasons) because of her being a poc? 🤔 It's not a narrative. It's a fact. If you look on Twitter you can see all kinds of racist things said about her, even in the Dune movie. There were even some poc who didn't like the optics of her having a threesome with "two White boys", even though she's half-White herself. 🙄😒 She got hate from all sides of the spectrum!

Women of color, whether Black or not, have the dual challenge of not just being hated against because of their gender, but also because of their race as well! A lot of times, it's a dual discrimination.

I don't think that I need to bring up Fran's experience with the R&J play again to make you see that a lot of hate that she received was BECAUSE she was a Black woman. A lot of it was racially-motivated. It's not the only reason (I think other factors of lookism were involved), but it's one of the main reasons.

And many times, Black women have to deal not only with misogyny, misogynoir, but also colorism on top of that! 🥴 That's THREE things up have to contend with at the same time. 😔

So, while some women are only having to deal with misogyny due to their gender, OTHER women out here are having to deal with that on top of other things.

Why does that fact make you feel so uncomfortable though? 🤔 You should ask yourself, why do you not feel sympathy for a fellow woman, whether White OR Black? Why are you calling "annoying" someone simply sharing the facts of life, or sharing their experiences?

Can't you feel for people who don't look like you or share your exact same experiences? 🤔

Can't you accept what someone tells you is their personal life experience and not try to downplay it or belittle them?

Just curious. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Anyway, not sure why you're bothered by "woc" or "Black" hashtags, but that shouldn't make you feel uncomfortable. These hashtags are not intended to be exclusory of other women, any more than tagging "NYC" is intended to be exclusory of Chicago.

For a group of people who has historically been put down, we should be allowed to raise ourselves up and be comfortable in our own skin without having people trying to tell us how we should be, or what we should and should not post.

BTW, just as a sidenote, idk what others use hashtags for on tumblr, but most of the time I'm using hashtags as an organizing system for MYSELF so that I can find related posts again, because goodness knows Tumblr's search feature SUCKS LOL 😆 😅

Every now and then I'll use the hashtag feature to write a cute comment, or to just to make jokes, or say things I won't put on the post section itself lol... but usually, the tags are just for organization purposes so that I can find posts on certain topics again. 😉 It sometimes also let's my readers know what the topic of the post is about. 😊

[chibishortdeath]

I actually really like the messed up skeleton Dracula design, it conveys that he’s not at full power yet pretty well :3. More explanations and two unfinished doodles under a cut—

Close up on Drac’s upper half cause the drawing was way too big for one photo of it. Something that I noticed while staring at his sprite for a while is that he’s probably not wearing a hood, but chainmail armor with a helmet on top :O!

Entire page view to get all the Dracula in frame lol. His armor isn’t falling off btw, everything is rising into place from the altar. Hopefully he’s not too gorey for general tags uhhh yeah d(TwT ).

This is him when he’s done coming together. He’s still not fully powerful or physically all there yet, but it’s just enough to be able to troll Simon at the end 💀💀💀. Anyway yeah he’s totally me when my arch nemesis doesn’t find my teeth and accidentally summons me before I’m ready lol.

Simon is literally so fun to just put in poses. He is almost always my model for drawing poses because his big thighs kinda force you to make his pose even more exaggerated to get the same amount of open space and ratio of things— yeah idk it’s fun. He’s also allowed to have some sass sometimes I think. Fun fact! I didn’t use a reference for these :3. I’m so proud! Angles like this are usually hard!!! Oh and rare family heirloom sword moment. I’m taking this as a nod to the recent Haunted Castle remake now, which was so out of no where like (*o* ). I’ll take it!!! Simon game!!! A win!!! Hopefully the next collection they put out has Adventure Rebirth in it X3.

Simon but he is staring at you with the saddest pouty wet cat eyes. Tbh I think this general kinda neutral/resting sad expression is what I draw him with the most.

Which is why I also tried drawing him with other expressions!!!!!! In this one he is surprised and awkwardly responding to being told something so negative it’s almost comedic 💀💀💀. I was imagining the one town in Simon’s Quest with some bangers like “after Castlevania I told you never to return” and “you’ve upset the people now get out of town” X,,,,,D. He’s a little taken aback and was gonna try to defend himself, but he just leaves anxiously.

Please imagine that in this one he is saying that one meme that goes “it is hot as hell in this fucking ass hot ass room I’m in… IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER⁉️⁉️⁉️”.

Yay! Putting him on furniture for background practice!!! He is sitting on a church pew, having a couple micro sleeps cause he’s sleep deprived. He may fall off cause that armor is a little too heavy when sitting down I’d imagine.

These last two are for the images below. First one is just him kinda tweakin idk, he’s been awake too long and seen too much, somebody direct him to the nearest church, bro needs rest 💀. His hand shaking reminds me tho, a couple days ago I played the jojo fighting game so hard I had to put ice on my hand 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀. It SUUUCKED like take it from me don’t play as Polnareff in story mode if you’ve already been playing for a long time ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

This one is just general anatomy practice, just doodling his proportions to keep the skill of being able to draw them d(^^ ). I ended up really liking how I drew his hair in this one though, it’s cute :3.

[tartigglez]

"goodnight, dear"

zhongli x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: i forgot to get one then celeste reminded me and i was like "aaaaaaaaaa"

summary: you're exhausted. luckily, only comfort awaits you as you come home.

tags: zhongli is very soft and its adorable yet odd, reader is tired to the point of almost collapsing (uh oh), lot of physical touch/petnames

tw/cw: mentions of fainting, light mention of insomnia but its not really specified idk (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: i have written too much and the fic hasn't even started yet. anyslays just had a bath just drank tea feeling soft time for writing. also this is lightly based on the lyrics of "goodnight, dear" by youngk bc yes

opening the front door of your home with a click was always a satisfying feeling, but especially today. the sheer amount of work and deadlines on your back at the moment would be enough to send anyone spiralling, so can you really be blamed for the aching in your bones, your dizzy head, or your eyes' constant will to close? there is nothing more on your mind than slipping under the covers of your bed and shutting your eyes until the weariness fades away...

entering the hallway, and shutting the front door behind you, you are immediately greeted by the scent of bamboo shoot soup wafting at you from the kitchen, an immediate giveaway of your lovers presence.

after a moment, you hear a lid being placed on a pot, and footsteps approaching you.

"my love? are you well?"

the soft baritone of zhongli's voice was exactly what you needed to hear right now. he placed a hand upon your cheek, and a gentle kiss on your forehead, before helping you remove your jacket, slowly sliding it off your shoulders. after hanging it on the rack he turned you to face him, and you could not evade the worried look on his face.

"did something happen? are you sick? you must rest now."

"'m fine, li', just-" you paused, trying to think of a word, trying to ignore the fact that the room was spinning, and trying to ignore the fact that your legs feel weak beneath you. "tired, is all".

in announcing this, you felt your legs begin to give out, luckily your beloved archon was there to catch you, wrapping one arm around your waist, picking you up effortlessly and carrying you to your shared room.

he placed you down gently on the bed, which was unbelievably comfortable, especially now, in your state of weakness. the sheets were made by the most skilled textile workers in all of liyue, the nation your lover prided himself on.

"darling, who worked you to this point? is there someone who must be taught a lesson? perhaps a few flying rocks would do the trick?"

you let out a weak laugh at his words

"no, it is mostly my problem for taking such a workload on, please don't worry about me."

"you're lucky i love you, or else i would not hesitate. i am still held under the impression that many problems can be solved by flying rocks"

you smile lightly, and whilst trying to form an adequate response to your lovers attempt at comedy, your train of thought is interrupted by a brief removal of the hair from your eyes, and a gentle kiss pressed to your lips.

"wait here my dear"

placing another gentle peck upon your lips, your beloved leaves the room, presumably in order to ensure his soup hasn't bubbled over the entire kitchen by this point.

he returns, much to your surprise, in his half dragon form. his hair has been removed from its usual ponytail, and now flows down his bare back. the horns on the top of his head glow with gold in the dim light of the sunset coming through the bedroom window, and his tail presents itself in its own glory, gracefully moving behind the ex-archon.

"i figured you may feel more comfortable if i am in this state. may i lay beside you?"

it was hardly the first time you had seen zhongli look like this, but it never ceased to amaze you. for someone who did not care about others perception of him whatsoever, he truly always managed to look ethereal.

you nodded your head to indicate for him to lay down next to you which he did immediately. although he disguised it as wanting you to "feel more comfortable", the true reason that he presented himself in this form was because he felt he would be able to take better care of you like this, to further protect you from any threats of the outside world.

he manoeuvred himself next to you, so that he was facing you as you lay on your side. he pulled you closer to him before rolling onto his back and pulling you onto his chest, so that your head was buried in his neck, breathing in his scent of slightly burnt caramel and vanilla. his strong arms wrapped themselves around your form, as did his tail.

"my dear"

"mm"

"you must promise to never let yourself get to this state again."

"mhm"

"now." he brought his pinky finger to yours and wrapped it around it, which was something he had seen the mortals of liyue do whilst making a promise.

you couldn't help but laugh at his blissful unawareness, and tightened your pinky around his.

"promise"

"good."

you can hear his heart beating, and his light breathing threatens to lull you into a slumber incomparable to any other.

"li'?"

"yes my dear? is everything alright? do you need anything?"

"can i touch your hair?"

this struck the archon as quite the puzzling request. why on earth would you want to touch his hair?

"if you so wish, my lily, just be gentle"

you let out a content smile, moving your hand to make contact with his brown locks, and pressing a light kiss on the side of his neck as a sign of your gratitude.

despite how lovely this was, it felt oddly silent to you.

"li'?"

"hm?"

"will you talk me to sleep? i missed you"

"of course dear. shall i tell you the story of the time streetward rambler brought that absurd gift to cloud retainer? perhaps i have already told that one, hm. what about the time i had xiao run an errand to mondstadt and- ah."

already, you had drifted off into a slumber, courtesy of the age old words of your beloved.

he wrapped his tail around you ever so slightly tighter than before, pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and sighed in content at the sight of his exhausted partner getting some sleep at last.

"goodnight, dear"

[archersgoon]

some flatland & priestking thots derived from elyse's tags last night

1 ─ education & the flatlands nobility

one of the problems that comes up re sennington is the difficulty in getting anyone who isn't flatland nobility to allow their children to attend, because they think they'll be better served helping in the quarry or on the farm or whatever. i can't find the scene (please god if you know where it is lmk) but the implication is pretty clear that historically, education has been exclusive to the nobility.

this follows through into religious education. prior to the curse, the novices of lagrami are, according to abian, taught to be rich men's wives (august's sister was a novice, for example). this further illustrates the class divide. we don't get a lot of information regarding male religious education (the priestking mentions being chosen by priests, but we literally never see any other evidence of their existence), but i think it's reasonable to assume that at the very least, the more prestigious forms are only really open if you've got the money (third sons from noble &/or wealthy families), particularly given the wealth available to the priestking/his shrinehouse (see finnikin & lucian pre-curse thinking he looked more like a king than carles or w/ever).

so, how does a boy from the rock or the river (depending on your preference lol) become the priestking?

2 ─ giftedness & the priestking

being gifted/gods-touched/whatever you call it seems to either be something you're born as (solange, vestie) or something that kicks in when you're young (arjuro, isaboe). given the priestking's self stated youthful desire to be a god, this was probably the case for him as well. his power is kind of whatever but it would nevertheless be uh. disconcerting if some seven year old in your village started making great claims about people's destinies, even if they are pretty abstract.

way i see it, there's two main options: either the priests made the first move, or his family did. either way, i think the general consensus was that a boy that powerful couldn't be left to do manual labour in his village, and if his god-want is anything to go by i think he was a big supporter of going to the shrinehouse (or wherever it is priests go in lumatere). whether or not he could comprehend what this would mean for him & his home, i don't know. but idk if his family was happy or sad (or both!) about it. either way, the separation isn't explicitly forced (although i cannot speak for any coercion involved) like with solange, & he probably did maintain contact with his family for a long time (from memory i don't think his own age is clear in the anecdote about his grandfather and his nephew, but honestly i reckon he was with the priests by then). hell, maybe they sent him on purpose because they thought he was a big fish in a small pond. very difficult to make any assumptions without a clearer view of his childhood. maybe, lacking the legitimacy the priesthood would convey upon him, the other villagers thought him a freak. anyway

at some point he was willing to conform to expectations (refer again to finnikin's pre-curse memories), and from the (admittedly limited) view we get of gifted men in lumatere he is far and away the most powerful, so once he was in i don't think it's that surprising he made it to the top. plus he was probably like middle-aged at least when he became priestking, so that village boy is decades-gone and at least half the priesthood at this point no longer remember him. any contempt he may have faced in his early years is by this point barely remembered or seems absurd.

& i think it's the same wherever he came from. particularly once his youthful contemporaries begin to die, because by that point his visits have tapered off almost to the extreme. so you ask his nephew as a grown man and his uncle the priestking is a mostly abstract concept to him, one he hasn't seen since his mother died. & if you ask his kids? nah, that's just something their dad made up. his uncle the priest is one thing, but his uncle the priestking? catch yourself on mate. lads round these parts don't make it like that

this sticks with him up until the curse. it's something he thinks about vaguely from time to time, but the village will always be there, and he's chosen by the goddess! then the curse kicks in. that + his failure to protect anyone really but especially the forest dwellers triggers a reasonably clear crisis of faith in him, that lasts until we catch up with him in canon. from this point on it is likely he is going to want to see his people again, & remember etc. but mortality in the villages is almost certainly higher than in the upper classes or the priesthood just generally; tie in the curse & whether you're in or out things are looking bad. so once the curse is broken he can try to go back, but what he's searching for no longer exists, & that boy he used to be has been dead for a long time. and that's why by book 2 he lives in a random shack in the flatlands with only the occasional froiboy for company.

3 ─ barely related tangents & the queen's guard

obviously there are people outside of the nobility who have & maintain power, but most of that is either regional (e.g. lucian or elders on the rock) or informal & deriving from a relationship with the monarch (tesadora & lucian again). as far as being granted formalised power, the only confirmed option we see is the queen's guard (and that's explicitly the result of trevanion's pitch to carles; see how it ties in?), which is likely still lesser in comparison to most other positions (obviously trevanion holds a lot of power, but even he has to lie prostrate for the king. narsty). so, how do members of the queen/king's guard retain their connection to their homes, and how does this interact with their responsibility to their job?

when trevanion recruits his guard, he pulls from every part of lumatere except the forest. this includes the monts. every member of the guard goes with perri to follow trevanion. yet when we see the monts in book 1, as far as they're concerned they've accounted for every one of their own. so being a guard supersedes being a mont (although it doesn't negate it -- lucian would've been a guard if saro still lived, presumably leaving when he needed to take up leadership). since priestking is i assume a lifelong position, something similar would occur, but turned up to eleven. he never has the option of going back to his people because all of lumatere comprises his people. forever

[darling-gemini]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

Thank you for the tag @ablatheringblatherskite !!

How many works do you have on AO3?

10! I would have more but I've orphaned a few fics when I was younger for reasons I no longer understand. Rip mafia au.

What's your total AO3 word count?

66,282! Which is so wild, ghost au is a little more than half of that.

Top Five Stories by Kudos

New Year's Eve (BuzzFeed Unsolved)

hide and go seek (Wednesday)

treading water (Wednesday)

sweet nothings (Lockwood & Co)

Wolf Out (BuzzFeed Unsolved)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do!! I'm usually pretty quick about it too for the most part. I like getting back to people on their comments, especially if it's a longer one. I wanna let them know their words are appreciated!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Well, the ending hasn't been written yet but I would have to say my ghost (where'd you go?) is the angstiest thing I've written, except maybe if he's a ghost, I can be a phantom which is an orphaned BuzzFeed Unsolved fic now 'cause I was embarrassed to have a fic where Shane tortures a guy, but not anymore! Have at it.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Hmm, probably either sweet nothings or treading water, both are more on the subtle side of happiness though I'd say.

Do you write crossovers?

I did a loooong time ago for a few BuzzFeed shows (Unsolved, Worth it, Unsolved Sports) but haven't attempted one in quite some time!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Come to think of it, no I haven't. I guess I haven't "made it" just yet lol

Do you write smut? If yes, what kind?

I've written one smut fic, hide and go seek, and it's based on the prompt of primal play!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but that would be so fucking cool genuinely.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Co-created, but not co-written, what was called the mafia au for BuzzFeed Unsolved! But other than that, no I have not. Would absolutely love to though, am a big fan of collaborative writing!

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I fear I have to say my ghost 💀 idk the vibe of it is just really dark and dismal and I don't know if I'll ever be in the right frame of mind to finish it, but we'll see!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Don't ask me why but Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable came to mind and tbh I'm sticking with it. Generally speaking though I'm a big fan of best friends to lovers, though, several of my favorite ships fall into this category.

What're your writing strengths?

I would think it'd be characterization and maybe dialogue? I've been told I do good with dialogue, which fascinates me bc I would not have said that for myself but regardless appreciate the compliment!

What are your writing weaknesses?

I would definitely say pacing and poeticism. I tend to feel like I rush through scenes that deserve more breathing room, and I also feel as though my writing can come across very plain even unintentionally.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet, but want to?

I desperately want to put together my Dorian Gray au for Coriolanus Snow but I wanted to go through and read/annotate my copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray before I did so, and reread tbosas as well. Uhh I also really wanna do something for Payneland (Dead Boy Detectives) but that may take some time. Their voices are incredibly difficult for me to get a grasp on, as evidenced in my palasaki fic this little light of mine. Hence, minimal dialogue haha

What's your favorite fic that you've written?

Ohhh this is such a hard question, but I think it's probably sweet nothings. It's such a lovely lil drabble and is probably my most close-to-canon fic that I've done, I just think you could slip it into one of the episodes and it would work just fine. It's very dear to me.

Tagging: @thelovelybookworm and @nouklea , and anyone else that wants to!!

[nanamis-baker]

Hey Tasha 🤍

Hope you’re doing well.

Idk if u remember me, but It’s that freaky obsessed over WOP anon :)

I don’t want to be rude or anything but i really still wandering about what happens next!!! 👀 and I’m so sorry if this make u uncomfortable or smt, and if it is pls feel free to ignore me.

Love u 🤍🤍

Hello my love! Yes of course I remember you <33

And it's okay, it's not rude at all and I know i kinda left things at cliffhanger there and haven't updated anything after that so really sorry for that 🥲🥲

I have written the "date" part, what happens after it and all, but it's only half of what I have planned for the chapter.

Now I know you may be wondering what's taking so long so here's a little about what's going on in my life :))

So I think I have said it before (i don't really remember lol) but I want to get a masters degree! But competition in my country is REALLY high and it's stressing me out so much because only the top 0.5% people get an interview call for a good college (they may or may not be selected)

And basically to prepare for the entrance exam I have to give 6-8 hours and day I am not even exaggerating here 🥲 and then I have to attend 5 hours of classes every morning so my brain is absolutely fried by the time I am done and it's really affecting my creativity 🥲😭

plus I have been feeling guilty lately for doing anything other than preparing for the exams

I have thought about posting short but frequent chapters, but according to my original plan there are 2 chapters left so idk if I should post it in short chapters instead of two 10k+ words chapters ahhh but I also think I should be able to update it and maybe finish the series by the end of the year because things will be a little less stressful in December.

And don't worry, you don't make me uncomfortable at all! I just hope that I am able to update it soon 🫶

I hope you are having an amazing time, that freaky obsessed over WOP anon!<3🌷✨ (i gave you a little tag if you don't mind lol)

[fastwiemagie]

My favourite salad (with a little bit of everything)

You need:

bag of mixed greens (I like to have rucola (dictionary says it's called arugula in English? Though rucola is Italian I think.. so idk you may know that one too!) and baby spinach in it, for example)

2-3 handfuls pasta of your choice (I like to use one's with fancy shapes for this salad, but it's not necessary)

smoked tofu (my favourite is Black forest tofu by Taifun, but you can use other tofu flavours as well)

can of chickpeas

3-4 little pickles (if you have bigger ones, you need less)

6-7 dried tomatoes in oil

half a big cucumber or 2-3 snack cucumbers (i like the snack ones but are a bit more expensive usually)

1 or 2 apples

add whatever else strikes your fancy! I've added walnuts before, blueberries, grilled vegetables I had leftover from a BBQ, etc. I've put edamame in this time for example.

For the dressing you'll need:

water

1-2 table spoons of lemon juice

1-2 table spoons of sweet-sour mustard (also works with spicier mustard though, I just like the sweet-sour kind most)

1-2 table spoons of agave syrup (you can use honey if you're not vegan)

1 table spoon of soy sauce

1-2 table spoons of (apple) vinegar (can use any vinegar though, just add a bit sour & acidic flavour)

binch of salt if it tastes too sweet

really make the dressing to your taste, I like these combinations.

I'll also drizzle some olive oil on top of the salad

For the salad ingredients: chop everything finely, even the mixed greens salad! It just incorporates better with the other ingredients if you chop it smaller as well. Cook the pasta until well done and fry the tofu.

You can prepare this salad in advance for your work lunch and bring it in a container with you. And enjoy! :)

@worth-beyond-a-number-scale asked to be tagged if I end up posting some of my favourite recipes, so here you go friend!