#look at that i can be true to the tag for once

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Yule Be Sorry

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You go along with the prince on his Yuletime celebrations.

Character: Thor

Day Twenty of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - i hate the holidays and you love them

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“It is time for Yule. The greatest time of the year!” Thor booms. You don’t look up from the thick tome you’ve been pouring over for weeks. “Come, Father is to set off upon his solstice journey at sunset. 

“Like he does every year,” you mutter. 

“Yes! Exactly,” he claps his hands. “It’s rather exciting, isn’t it?” 

“How so?” You suppress a yawn. 

“You are so amusing, how you act as if you don’t care.” 

“I don’t,” you assure him. 

“But the sky. Father makes such beautiful colours!” 

“Heimdall does the same every time you decide to disappear halfway across the galaxy,” you rub your cheek and lean your chin in your hand. You turn the page. “It gets rather dull after so many millenia.” 

“And yet here you are,” he preens. 

You keep your eyes on the book lest you betray your true thoughts. Yes, you were bound in blood to the Family Odinson after your father’s rebellion. They might have spared you servitude in the traditional sense but acting as companion can be just as dull. 

“What else would you do then? This is a special day. Winter is come.” 

“Mmhm,” you hum and tilt your head to look at him. 

“Would you rather sit inside and finish your study?” 

“Yes, I would, now you say it,” you return. 

“No wonder you and Loki always got on,” he narrows his eyes. Got on? Loki is intolerable in his own waay. 

“I will come see the lights, let me finish this passage,” you relent. 

He harrumphs as you put your eyes back to the page. You lose all focus as his childish impatience irks you. You close the book and shrug as you stand. 

“Very well, Happy Yule, Prince.” 

With his triumph, he’s content. He is in the habit of winning and you are in the habit of appeasing. You follow him from the room and proceed side by side down the halls. You emerge into the Asgardian evening, the sky speckled with falling flakes summoned by Lady Frigga’s seidr. 

The city is alight with the market lights of the commonfolk and the Bifrost pulses in an eerie glow. You peer around and stop as the prince walk past you. He brushes against you without concern. 

“Why, Prince, your Warriors Three are there. Perhaps an ale and their company is preferable--” 

“Come,” Thor demands, “they do not find the stalls of any interest.” 

You hum but obey. That’s odd. He is always so eager to be with his most favoured comrades, to rowdily race them to the bottom of a flagon. Though it is Yule, that day seems an unusual one. Especially for him. 

You catch up to him as he ushers you away from the palace. Usually Loki is one for the markets, though not for any innocent means. He is amused by their handmade trinkets, often mocking them. You peek over at Thor and consider him closely. His eyes... blue as any sea. 

“What is it?” Thor startles you from your inquisitive stare. 

“Nothing, prince,” you lie and look ahead of you as you proceed down the incline. 

“You think it is one of his tricks. I assure you he is off chasing Sif with those. Did you not hear the quarrel last night?” Thor chuckles. 

“I think the next realm heard that one,” you remark. 

Thor laughs, “hm, you must recall that one and say it to him.” 

“Not all of us may get way with that. You are welcome to take it yourself,” you say. 

“Ah, but he finds you so amusing.” 

“We both know how he is, you best of all,” you gird. 

“I tease,” he chortles once more. “Come, look, at the crystals.” 

He grabs your arm and drags you to a stall of blow glass ornaments. They are delicately crafted. While you might spare a coin or two for them, you would be concerned for how to get them away unbroken. 

“Fine seller,” Thor says, “how much to have some taken to the palace on my behalf? My mother requires her Yule gift.” 

You glance at him again as he barters for several fine pieces and the delivery. You’re not surprised. You should have guessed at his purpose. 

As you walk on, you snort, “prince, did you forget your yule presents this year?” 

“I’ve not forgotten, only delayed. I’ve had much more important obligations,” he insists. 

“Certainly,” you agree dryly. 

It’s his turn to harrumph. You carry on through the market. While many turn to look at the prince and move from his path, others are too swept up to notice. Thor makes no display of if. 

“Cider, ah, it is the white-haired fellow who adds the firewhiskey,” he takes your arm before you can react, “two, sir.” 

He slaps down coins with his other hand as the man greets him with a grin before scooping hot cider from his large cauldron. The smell of the spices make you dizzy. Thor hands you one of the bone mugs and takes his own, still gripping your wrist. 

You wriggle free and he lets you go reluctantly. Odd. He is acting oddly. He is always excited for the Yule celebrations, that is not unusual. It is the way he is so uptight that has you suspect. You sip and eye him once more. 

“You may keep staring, lady, but I will not turn into a snake,” he smirks. 

“Loki is not so obvious,” you agree. 

“Is it such torture to enjoy this time of year? To celebrate with those close to you? How dour you are.” He admonishes. 

You inhale the steam curling off the brim, “thank you, prince, for the cider. I am grateful. Forgive my grimness.” 

“Do enjoy it, if you do not find pleasure in anything else. The man who brews it is a master,” he says. 

You blow over the cup and take a sip. Beneath the richness of mulled apples is the stringent layer of whiskey. You are cautious with your tending to your beverage as the prince gulps his own. The mug is tall enough that the bottom should see you woozy from the helping. 

You carry on in your perusal of the wares and stall games and shows. Voices unfurl in the air and music plucks through the buzz. The sky is a spectrum between the bifrost, Frigga’s illusions, and the stars gleaming down on the torches set with flame. 

You circle around and come upon the same puppet show with the contorted impressions of a single master. You find it too bawdy. Thor stops and guffaws as you continue on to the seller and her woven blankets. She still has that one with the fawns on it. Yet, there is many enough blankets at the palace. There aren’t enough in the nine realms to make it more than a glorified prison. 

You swirl the dregs of the cider as Thor catches up to you. Your stomach burns as you peer into the mug. You think of dumping the last of it but wouldn’t want to be rude. 

“We should return, father will go soon,” Thor says, his own mug disposed as he emptied it long ago. “How is the cider? You do not seem fond of it?” 

“It is nice. I only savour it,” you assure him, finding the world smearing around your movements. “Yes, I’d like to go back now.”  

You turn and sway, only noticing as Thor steadies you by hooking his arm through yours. You keep the cup balanced as you look ahead to the palace on its peak. It seems further now than when you came. 

🎇

The world is cloudly like the inside of your subconscious. The glossy fog softens the edges and swirls the hues all around. It must be a dreamy, it feels like one, heavy but light at once. And your body moves on its own, disconnected from your head. 

You’re spinning then all at once you land in a heap. You sprawl over the cushy expanse below you. Slowly, you push through the haze and count the four posts of the massive bed. A bed not your own. Draped in crimson and gold, like prince himself. 

You find him too. He’s a shadow at your feet. You know him only by the glimmer of his blue eyes. Brilliant like sapphires as he looms. You murmur, unable to find your voice. With the clog in your throat, this must be one of those nightmares, the ones that see you helpless. 

Your head drops back down as a groan rolls through you. The prince’s specter moves around the border of the bed. A ripple of fabric stirs the air as his cloak falls from his shoulders. The soft click and snap of buckles unteething and the friction of fingertips on leather and armour smatter through the roaring silence. 

Your hand hits your forehead clumsily as you fight through every movement. A dream it must be but it feels so strangely vivid. You close your eyes and exhale through the apple-y tint in your mouth. 

The world jostles and you with it. Your head lolls as your arm falls straight. A low growl crawls through you and prickles your fear. Your lids flutter open as your knees are pushed wide. You moan and struggle to lift your head.

You only manage far enough to see yourself, to see him. Your lay naked on the red coverlet, he is just as bare between your knees, his hand crawling up your thighs. What is he doing? Wake up, foolish woman. 

Your head drops like a stone in water. The effort leaves you spinning. His palms graze up to your hips and he lets out a gristly breathe. He pushes his legs against yours, splaying you wide as he bends over you. His broad silhouette blocks out the room as candlelight flickers behind him. 

You wriggle weakly and babble. The closer he gets, the realer it feels. It can’t be. The prince would not do this. There are ladies all around who would gladly warm his bed. Those who are not traitor’s daughters. 

So, wake up and see that your mind is tainted. 

You lurch and your eyes widen. You grunt and bring your hands to his hard thick stomach. His warmth seeps into your palms and you nearly scream. You would if you could. What has he done? 

You’re awake. No matter how you tell yourself to rouse, you remain as you are. This is not the summoning of your subconscious. It has to be true. The way you can feel him so hot and hard against you. 

He leans on one arm as he frames your head with his hand. His other creeps between your bodies and delves along your pelvis. You quiver and slide your touch up to push on his chest. He glides between your lips and rubs you until you whimper. 

“Did you enjoy the cider, pet?” He drawls as he nuzzles your cheekbone. You can smell the mulled spices in his breath. 

“P-p-p-” you cannot get the plea out. 

He tickles along your entrance. You tense and try to shove him off with your forearms. The effort aches in your biceps and shoulders, straining even the tendons of your neck. He is unmoving. He leans into you until your resistance collapses, as if you remind you of who he is. Of what he is. Keeper before companion. 

He pokes his thick finger inside of you and you spasm. You squeak and close your eyes as you lay prone to his princely demands. Even if you had the strength to stop him, you do not have the right. 

“Mm, I enjoyed the cider very much,” he purrs as he sinks in to his knuckle, “but I think I shall enjoy you more.” He pulls in and out as you shudder, “and for once, you might enjoy Yule, hmm?” 

[happilyhertale]

Stocking Surprise – Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You meet your boyfriend Daemon's family over Christmas. Everything goes well and even Daemon behaves perfectly – until you find out what he has in mind.

Pairing: Modern Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Sex (p in v)

Author’s note:

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.5 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The sprawling Targaryen estate gleams under a blanket of freshly fallen snow. Strings of golden lights wind around the ancient trees, casting a warm glow that illuminated the path to the grand manor. Inside, the atmosphere is lively but cozy, filled with laughter, music, and the faint scent of pine and cinnamon.

Daemon is a vision tonight in a charcoal-gray cashmere sweater, his silvery-white hair perfectly tousled. You’d spent the evening meeting his extended family—most of whom exuded the same enigmatic charisma as Daemon, albeit in varying degrees. There is Rhaenyra, who commanded the room with her sharp wit, and Viserys, whose laughter can warm even the frostiest soul. The children are a chaotic joy, zipping through the halls with sugar-fueled energy.

Daemon had been charming all evening, but there was a spark of mischief in his violet eyes that had you on high alert. He’d been uncharacteristically well-behaved around the children, but you know better than to trust his sudden bout of restraint.

As the evening draws to a close, the family begins to retreat to their respective wings. The halls quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old house settling. You decide to slip away to your room for some much-needed solitude. That’s when you notice Daemon sneaking down the hall, a bundle tucked under his arm.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you follow him on tiptoes, careful not to make a sound. He stops in front of the grand fireplace in the main hall, where the stockings hang in neat rows. Each bears a name embroidered in elegant silver thread. Yours is the newest addition, it‘s dark red velvet standing out against the others.

Daemon crouches before your stocking, grinning like a cat with a canary in its claws. You stifle a laugh as he carefully slips a small, neatly wrapped package into the stocking. But it is what he adds next that makes your eyes widen.

A lacy, vibrant red pair of underwear with a tag that read remote-controlled dangles precariously from his fingers. Your jaw nearly hits the floor.

“Daemon!” you hiss, stepping into the glow of the fireplace.

He looks up, utterly unrepentant. “Caught me, did you?” His grin widens, and he hold the underwear aloft, letting it dangle teasingly.

“You’re insane!” you whisper, glancing around to make sure no one else was awake. “There are children here!”

Daemon chuckles, his voice low and rich. “And you think they’re sneaking into your stocking? Sweetheart, this is strictly for you.” He steps closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “And for me, naturally.”

Flustered, you try to snatch the offending garment from his hands, but he is quicker, holding it high above your head. “Daemon, I can’t—what if someone sees?”

“Then don’t leave it lying around.” He winks. “Problem solved.”

Despite your protests, you feel your cheeks heating as he hands you the small package and the underwear. “Here,” he says, his tone playful but firm. “Unwrap it in your room. I’ll be up shortly to… supervise.”

Your heart pounds as you scurry back to your room, clutching the items like contraband. Once inside, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. True to his word, Daemon appears minutes later, leaning casually against the doorframe, holding the tiny remote between his fingers.

“Go on, show me,” he says, his voice a low purr.

You hold up the underwear, glaring at him half-heartedly. “You’re impossible.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he quips. “Now, put them on.”

Your protest is meet with a raised brow, daring you to refuse. Eventually, you relent, stepping into the bathroom to change. When you emerge, his eyes rake over you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, holding up the remote. Before you can say anything, you feel a sudden, faint vibration. Your gasp makes him grin like the devil himself.

“Daemon!” you squeake, clutching at the waistband.

“Shhh,” he says, placing a finger to his lips. “Wouldn’t want to wake the children,” he murmurs teasingly.

The vibrations intensified briefly, and you grab onto the edge of the bed for balance. Daemon crosses the room leisurely, every movement deliberate. “You’re blushing,” he observes, clearly delighted.

“You’re an idiot,” you manage to say, though your voice was shaky.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “And you’re enjoying this more than you’d admit.”

You stare at him, caught somewhere between exasperation and anticipation.

“Daemon...“, you begin, but whimper as he turns up the vibration.

Daemon just grins, watching you,

“Oh, you're getting off without me? That's not fair...“ Daemon feigns poutiness.

“Shut up,” you gasp as you try to press your thighs together.

Your eyes close and you try to minimize the vibration by squeezing your thighs together.

Daemon's hand pushes you further onto the bed and you follow his movement, crawling up and positioning yourself on all fours for him. The vibration makes your abdomen tremble and you feel yourself soaking your panties more and more. You press your face lightly into the pillow and feel Daemon come onto the bed, pushing your legs slightly apart as he kneels between your legs.

Daemon slowly approaches you, enjoying the way your fingers dig into the sheet. When he is standing behind you, he puts his hand on your bottom, grasping lightly, while the vibration does not subside.

You let out a small moan as you feel his touch and Daemon's grin doesn't leave his face.

“See, you're enjoying this,” he murmurs and you whimper again.

“Shut up,” you gasp again, but press your ass harder against his hand.

He turns up the vibration and your constant whimpers echo louder through the room.

His fingers glide gently over the vibrating fabric, feeling how wet you already are.

“Oh Love... look at you, so wet... you want more, don't you? Do you want me to stretch that tight cunt?“ he murmurs and you whimper. But before you can answer, he slaps the flat of his hand on your ass.

You moan slightly, pushing your face further into the pillow.

“I knew it,” he mutters. For a brief moment, you hear nothing, until you hear his belt unfasten slowly. The sound alone makes you drip even more. Daemon sets the remote control aside as he pulls down his trousers. His length is already hard, twitching impatiently as his hand encircles it, gripping it lightly and sliding up and down.  

He watches how your bottom is pushed up, how the fabric of your panties becomes more and more soaked. He growls slightly, pumping his hardness faster, before his other hand pushes your panties slightly to the side. His fingers glide through your slit, rubbing the wetness along your folds.

“Fuck...”, he just grunts and you can literally feel his cock twitching.

You push your bottom further towards him as he lets the tip of his cock slide through your folds. Occasional grunts and gasps leave his lips before he slowly penetrates you.

You squeeze your eyes shut. No matter how many times he has fucked your pussy raw, this feeling will never get dull. The way your walls stretch around his length. The way he slides deeper and deeper, making your pussy clench.

“Daemon,” you whimper into the pillow, and he grunts, grabs your hips and pushes all the way inside you.

Long strokes hitting so deep into you, making you see stars. Daemon is gripping your hips, fucking into your tight pussy. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, intensifying the vibration of your panties.

Your fingers dig into the sheets beneath you as Daemon pushes deeper inside you. You cry out into the pillow and Daemon growls. The panties are still vibrating, teasing your clit as Daemon thrusts into you faster.

His cock kisses your cervix, making your body tremble. His hands grasp your buttocks, pull them apart as he watches his cock slide into you, covered in your juices.

At that moment, Daemon feels his balls tighten as he nears his climax.

He grabs your hips tighter and angles them differently to thrust deeper into you. You cry out, feeling your walls clench around him. The pressure in your abdomen increases and you moan out. He groans behind you, thrusting harder as your noises grow more desperate.

And suddenly you come. You scream and Daemon grunts loudly. Your walls milk him, and pull him deeper inside, want his juice – and Daemon gives in.

He growls as his hips stutter. He thrusts deep inside you, his hot seed spills deeper into your clenching pussy with each thrust.

You whimper as he slows down, letting his orgasm subside. Slowly, he pulls his length out of you, breathing heavily. For a moment, he just kneels behind you, his hands on your hips.

His hand gently glides over your bottom before he reaches for the remote and turns off the vibration. Your eyes are closed, but you feel him fall down next to you on the mattress.

You turn your face to him, watching him as he tries to catch his breath with his eyes closed. You smile slightly before cuddling up to him a little and kissing his cheek.

“Thank you for the gift,” you whisper, making him chuckle before he pulls you close.

[mixes-archive]

SUPER GRAPHIC ULTRA MODERN GIRL ✰

Arcee x fem! human! reader

SUMMARY: Being unabashedly feminine while working in a male-dominated field is EXHAUSTING. But thank Primus Arcee and you have each other to cope.

TAGS: winners possibly winning, cute fluff, the stove is not even on yet-burn, shitting on men a bit in spirit of this song

A/N: I BET THIS WASNT THE COMBACK ANY OF YOU WERE EXPECTING LOLOL - I won’t bore anyone with a long story, my ask box is open if you’re curious about anything.

This is my first fic in years, and my first for Transformers, so I hope its atleast somewhat enjoyable??

Arcee was, well…

confused, if an Autobot can be, at herself and her emotions.

Servos tracing the round part of her helm as she loses herself to her thoughts - about you.

The little human who had somehow, some way, crawled itself into the deepest parts of her processor. And with no great difficulty either, she was almost enamoured with you since she’d first laid her optics on your little form.

Finding reason for that wouldn’t be as hard as anyone would think either - for being such a tough and independent bot, having purely masculine friends doesn’t get tiring. (After you’d told her about the human equivalent of her experience, she was glad she lacked a sense of smell)

Now, she loves her crew, she really does, but first being one of the few feminine-presenting cybertonians and now seemingly the only one on earth (with exception of Airachnid) - it would have been hard not feeling lonely, while also admired by too many.

It was overwhelming and so, so lonely.

They’d previously brought a few humans in on their situation, to put it mildly. Unfortunate souls that couldn’t overlook the brightly coloured, obscenely tall and heavy machines shifting almost magically, in a badly hidden spot.

Of course, luck had been on their side, because they were all willing to stay silent, sometimes even helping out with stuff the autobots couldn’t do themselves.

Yes, they were lucky. But Arcee did not feel that way because as it turned out, they’d all ben men.

Not that she’d treated them as anything less than because of that of course, but she still couldn’t help but crave that true connection of someone likeminded.

So when Bumblebee came crashing into their hideout with a frilly, pink… thing in his servos, she was excited.

You’d looked so adorable, sharing her colour-way even, as if sent by Primus himself, saying: ‘Here Arcee, for all your troubles.’

Arcee made it no secret that she’d claimed you as hers. From the start she was by your side, giving you a comforting glance when Optimus gave you the run-down, and having her servo on the small of your back when you’d eventually met all the others. The others don’t think they’d ever seen her talk that much.

And the sentiment wasn’t one-sided either.

As much as it was upsetting to be basically kidnapped by a (admittedly very cool-looking) Camaro because you’d spotted it- him shifting to bend into a humanoid shape to pet a cat, you did have to admit it wasn’t a terrible situation to be in. At least you now had the confirmation that aliens wouldn’t cause harm to you.

Though once you’d been informed that really, they hadn’t planned on staying on earth as a long as they did, and really, really couldn’t afford to be known about on a bigger scale, you felt sympathy for them.

And something deeper for the nice, pink robot comforting you through all these plot-developments.

You ended up chatting so much that the night ended at dawn, along with a private lesson in motorcycling from Arcee herself. Turned out you actually lived close by and you promised each other to meet again soon.

Maybe it was the excitement of finally meeting someone that you clicked with so well and so quick, maybe the tiredness clouding your brain or maybe the fact that the first person you’ve found yourself attracted to is a 9 foot tall robo-woman, but you kissed her display before running into the safety of your house.

If she had speakers, Arcee is certain the entire neighbourhood would have woken up to hear Katy Perry playing.

[monstrousvoice]

A Chance

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Relationship: Toshinori Yagi/All Might X Female Reader

AN: With my love of BNHA coming back, so too does my undying love for Toshi rise from the depths to inconvenience everyone who tries to have a conversation with me lasting longer than 5 minutes. This drabble was inspired by the following mood board as part of a challenge prompt in the discord server I’m in!

Tags: Fluff, Knight!Toshinori, References to past sexy times but nothing explicit

Summary: You are given the chance to pursue your own happiness with the one you love.

Read it on AO3!

“It really is unconventional my dear.” Your mother clucked her tongue at you before blowing on her steaming tea and taking a careful sip. You took a deep breath to keep your composure. It took nearly all your courage just to speak the words you had been sitting on for months at this point, and you had been prepared for a far harsher response. You gently swirled your spoon in your own tea cup, watching as the sugar cube melted away. You hated this blend, but it was Mother’s favorite and you needed any help to get her in a good mood.

Your father says nothing, simply watching you with a stoic expression. His tea cup sits full and untouched.

“I am…aware, of how odd it is-” Mother scoffs at your words.

“If you are so aware, why even entertain the idea? Honestly child.” She rolls her eyes at you. You bite your tongue, and take another deep breath.

“I simply think after all he’s done for us, for me, that he would be a good choice,” Another scoff. “And that he would…” make me happy, you want to say but don’t. Mother didn’t care about things like happiness in marriage. Marriage was a tool in a royal’s arsenal, like anything else.

“Oh yes, everything he’s done for us, and every neighboring kingdom from here to the coast! The man has no loyalty! He would sooner give up the crown to an invader than fight them! He has too many ties to too many people.”

“That isn’t true!” Mother narrows her eyes at your raised voice. You stiffen and look to your lap in a show of submission. “I-I am sorry. I just…”

“It is a foolish idea.” Mother takes another sip of her tea, opening her mouth to further admonish you for your proposal, but your father speaks.

“I disagree.” He rumbles. Mother closes her mouth with a sharp ‘click’. Your father may be content to let her rule the castle, the staff, and you as she sees fit, but every once in a small while he steps in. Those few times are almost enough to convince you he may care for you in some way.

“Father?” You prompt.

“He was born here. He trained here under my own father’s best knights. He has helped our neighbors as his warrior spirit demanded, but never to our detriment. Now that he can no longer fight the same way, why not reward him for his servitude?” Father blinks passively at Mother, the wisdom of many years of leadership in his eyes. Mother looks at him in shock, her own protests sounding weak now that she doesn’t have his support.

“Bu-I-! He is-! Why, he is too old now my lord husband! He-”

“He is as old as I am, and that brings wisdom and experience.”

“Wh-what of heirs!? He could never-with our daughter-!”

“Men older than us both have produced children before. It will be fine.”

Mother looks like she wants to protest further still, but you don’t pay her stuttered words any more mind. You stare at your father, a man you have spent most of your life fearing in some capacity. Fear of failure and disappointment, fear of losing him and leaving your home in disarray with no king to lead them.

Fear of being married off to some horrible man that would decide your fate, who would crush and break you under the weight of unwanted motherhood and wifely duties you would have no choice but to complete. Of one day suffering the quiet shame of having a husband who brings strangers to bed, of being an object meant to look pretty and nothing more.

And within this moment you dare hope that your life will not be as sad and grey. 

Father looks at you and nods his head. You stand, your fingers twitching with the effort to hold back your excitement. Never before have you so badly wanted to hug Father, but you refrain. It would be improper, Mother has always said. You bow low instead to show your gratitude.

“Th-thank you Father. Mother. I must-...I need to step out for a moment, please excuse me.” And with that you rush out the door to the private study and nearly collapse against the stone wall opposite you. The cool, rough texture against your palms and catching the fabric of your gown helps ground you.

This is real.

You can-you can marry the man you love. Bring him into a life of luxury and happiness you’ve wanted to give him for so long-

The click of the door behind you opening and closing echoes in your pounding head. With hazy eyes you look to see Father standing behind you, proud and tall as ever. He is smiling softly at you, a gentleness you didn’t think he possessed. It's an odd but not unpleasant expression to see on his face.

“I…” He starts, lifting a hand into the air and holding it there, fingers pinched. With a sigh he drops his hand back to his side, looking to the floor.

“With age comes wisdom.” He begins. “I regret many things when it comes to how you were raised.” You blink in shock at his words. You can see in his face…a quiet longing you hadn’t noticed before. It makes something in your heart squeeze.

“I wish…I wish I had been…” He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he looks to you. “I had you trained and molded to take charge of the kingdom after my passing, consort or no. I made sure you knew every battle tactic, every political game, every form of self defense I could cram into you to make sure you could be safe. I just wish I could have taken the time to…let you be you. To be my daughter, not just my heir. I wish I could have gotten to know you.”

The back of your eyes burn. You swallow and blink. You cannot show such clear emotion, not to anyone.

Well…to one person and one person only. 

That person is not Father.

“I married your mother because of the things she could teach you, the benefits she brought to our home.” Father steps closer to you. His arms lift, as if to reach for you. He freezes, hands shaking before he forces them down to his sides again. “I wish to give you a chance to be happy. If only in some small way. A way I never got to experience. Go to him, and you will be happy with him, I’m sure.”

Father has taken time out of his day to meet with you, to hear your proposal. He agreed to your proposal and gave you his blessing for the man you chose. He is standing before you and restraining himself from giving you a hug.

You take the final step to close the distance between you both, and your stiff arms wrap around his even stiffer form. You feel his hands slowly and carefully come to your back and rest there.

It is awkward and stiff and slightly uncomfortable.

It is the first hug you’ve ever received from Father.

You will cherish its memory for the rest of your life. He has made you happier on this day than you have ever felt.

Well, perhaps not happier than the day you met your fearsome and brave knight. It is close, however.

“Thank you Father. If it is acceptable, I wish to go see him.” Father’s arms drop from you as you step back, and he nods his head. You turn and rush down the hall.

~~~~~~~

You ignore the whispers that trail after you as you hunt through the castle hallways.

“Ah, her royal highness the cold fish. Wonder what has her in such a hurry.”

“Her highness is moving rather fast, do you think something’s happened? She’s normally so stoic and cold.”

“Just like her father, that one. Unfeeling and scary.”

Their words sting, but you hold your head high. You had thought you had been getting better at interacting with the staff, but apparently not if they still gossip in such ways about you. Your knight had been trying to help you be more approachable and open to others, considering he shined with charm and charisma like a beacon, but apparently you needed more work. 

It didn't matter right now, in any case. You have more important news to share with him. 

A tall figure, a flash of blonde, catches your eye down the corridor. You race after it and round the corner to see your knight and his young charge walking away. 

“Toshinori!” You call, and the two figures freeze, turning to look back at you. You rush closer, breathless and excited. Neither of them are in their full set of armor, only wearing the thickly padded tunic that has your kingdom's blazon proudly on display. You take a moment to admire the way your knight’s cloak drapes over his broad shoulders. 

He may not be as strong as he was when younger, but that thin, tall frame holds strength and resilience you can't help but love.

“G-good morning to you both. I apologize for the interruption-” You start, nodding at Izuku who stares up at you with shining eyes. Toshinori straightens up, his smile professional and calm as he addresses you. 

“No trouble at all, your highness.” He bows low to you, and for a moment his hand twitches as if to reach for you, but he forces it still. Izuku jolts as if shocked, quickly blowing low as well with a muttered ‘good morning’ of his own. He's still learning proper protocol, Toshinori had told you. The boy shows great promise as a knight and you know Toshinori is more proud of this boy than he is about any other accomplishment he has in his long career. 

“If I may, Ser Knight, I would like to speak to you about something…” Your eyes dart to the boy at his side. “Urgent.” Toshinori catches on, his eyebrows raising in surprise and slight concern before he turns to his student.

“Young Midoriya, make your way to the stables and complete your usual duties. I will find you later.” Toshinori smiles at the boy with a tenderness that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. The urge to kiss the laugh lines on his cheeks is nearly overwhelming, and you barely stop yourself from doing so. You need to talk to him first. 

Izuku hurries down the hallway with an eager stride, no doubt wanting to impress his teacher when they meet back up. With your own barely restrained enthusiasm you grab Toshinori's hand in your own and drag him to the closest private spot you know of. He stumbles for a moment as you pull him, letting out a choked noise of surprise. You can feel calluses from years of hard labor under the pads of your fingers, rough skin and scars that make your heart flutter with excitement. You've had those hands on you so many times, and now you know for certain you can feel them again for the rest of your life. 

If he wants such a thing, that is. 

“Y-your highness-! What is-” You ignore his questions, making a beeline for the nearest hidden alcove you can think of. It's a hidden spot right outside the entrance to the gardens, one you and Toshinori are very familiar with. Memories of his fingers, long and thick as they brought you to completion over and over while pressed against his chest flash through your mind as you pull him closer. It seems the same thoughts are on his mind as well, judging by the growing pink blush spreading over the bridge of his nose.

The sunlight bleeds through the leaves of the many trees planted, flowering blooms bright and colorful as fat bees buzz to and fro across them to collect nectar. A slight breeze picks up and you watch, mesmerized, as the golden hair of your knight seems to shine as it’s ruffled.

To think, you’ll be able to see him like this everyday for the rest of your life…if he accepts that is.

His voice startles you despite it being a whisper.

“My love, what is wrong? Did something happen…?” Despite the concern you see in his eyes, his mouth pulls up in a shy smile. “Or were you looking to…” One of his hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone in such a tender way it makes your very soul ache. Your eyes flutter shut as you turn into his palm, pressing a kiss against the rough skin. His blush deepens.

“I am flattered darling but is this really what you would consider ‘urgent’? You had me worried for a moment!” He chuckles, a deep soothing sound that sends shivers down your spine. You squeeze your thighs closed at the sudden rush of heat you feel at the sound. You manage to find your voice and speak.

“N-not entirely, beloved…” Your voice comes out as soft as his, a whisper to be carried away on the wind. Toshinori pulls you closer, his free arm wrapping around your waist to settle on the small of your back, his long fingers spreading to grip the meat of your ass. You squeak at the feeling, your hips pushing closer to his where you can feel his cock hardening under his tunic. He hums in interest at your words as he buries his nose into your hair.

“I was speaking with-...with Mother and Father today-” You feel him stiffen against you, and not because of arousal. He pulls back to look you in the eye, but his arms stay wrapped snugly around you. Toshinori’s brow is furrowed with concern as he looks at you.

“Are you alright? I know talks with Her Majesty can be…difficult for you. Is that why you came to me?” His eyes widened in panic. “A-and here I am trying to-! I am sorry love, you must be upset and I’m just-” You can feel his arms loosening from where they hold you tight, pulling away to give you space you most definitely did not want at the moment. You grip his wrists, tugging his hands back into their rightful place on you.

“No! No, I’m not upset please! Please-” You nuzzle into the hollow of his throat, “please hold me. I want to be held.” Your lips brush against his skin as you whisper and you hear him choke. Those strong arms wrap around you once more.

“Ah, a-as you wish…” Toshinori’s voice comes out breathless, and you feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“It was a good talk. I was…” You pause, trying to think of the best way to phrase your question. “I was granted permission to…to court whomever I wish…”

You feel him suck in a sharp breath, his shoulders tensing under where your hands grip him to hold him close. You can hear the sound of his heartbeat where your head rests against his chest, and you know under your cheek is the very spot where his scar resides. You want to spend eternity like this, just being held by your knight like you’re something precious for once.

“...Truly? That's-that's fantastic my love…” You hear Toshinori gulp above you, his arms tightening their hold even further. 

“I think so too. I wanted to ask…” You pause and breathe deeply, grounding yourself. He wouldn't say no, there was no reason to say no. “I wanted to ask if you would consider…allowing me to court you, Ser Knight? And to one day be my King Consort.” You press a kiss to his cloth covered chest, right above his heart.

“My love…” You feel his hand, rough with callouses, cup your jaw and angle your head up to look at him. Piercing blue eyes that glow with resilience and determination stare into your own. “There is nothing I would love more, than to be by your side.”

And he seals this promise with a kiss.

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine with a reader who prefers to spend more time indoors during winter. (oh to be born in winter and despise the winter weather itself)

-Smooch Anon 💋

Where the Cold Can’t Touch Us

Summary: You prefer to stay indoors, safe from the winter chill. Aventurine understands your distaste for the cold yet finds a playful way to coax you out of your comfort zone. Suggesting a wager, he challenges you to a game of cards: if you lose, you must brave a winter stroll with him.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Cozy moments, Winter Special, Playful banter, Gentle teasing, Warmth in the cold, Indoor dates, Sweet gestures, Companionship.

As winter's chill wraps itself around the city, you find yourself once again nestled indoors, wrapped in the warm, soft embrace of blankets and layers. The frosty air outside and the biting winds are not your friends—winter may have birthed you, but it certainly hasn’t won your favor. Fortunately, a certain blond gambler with vibrant eyes understands this about you perfectly. And, as always, Aventurine finds a way to make even your self-imposed winter sanctuary a place of light and laughter.

You’re sitting by the window, a cup of tea warming your hands, when you feel the sofa dip beside you. Aventurine slides in, his arms draped casually over the back, wearing that playful smirk that always gives him away.

“I see my favorite winter hibernator is hard at work,” he teases, eyes glinting with mischief as he wraps his arm around you, gently pulling you closer. “Tell me, love—if you despise the cold so much, why insist on being born in winter?”

“It wasn’t exactly my choice,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “Believe me, if I had a say, I would’ve picked a sunnier season.”

He chuckles, his voice rich with amusement. “Consider it fate, then. The chill just had to bring something warm to this world.”

You blush slightly at the compliment, nestling further into his side, the warmth of his presence seeping through the layers of blankets. Aventurine tilts his head back thoughtfully, as if considering some new scheme. With him, everything is a game, even these cozy moments, where he skillfully makes you forget the dreariness of the season.

“Since you refuse to step out,” he continues with a dramatic sigh, “it looks like I’ll have to bring the entertainment to you. How does a little winter wager sound?”

“A wager?” You raise an eyebrow. “What are we betting on this time?”

He pulls a deck of cards from his pocket, shuffling it with practiced grace. “A simple game of chance. If you win, I’ll stay in and play the dutiful winter companion. If I win, you’ll have to endure a brief winter stroll with me—nothing too far, just enough to get a bit of rosy color in those cheeks.”

You laugh, knowing full well he’ll somehow manage to twist the game in his favor. Still, you agree, because with Aventurine, even a losing hand feels like a victory.

In the end, after a series of close calls and playful accusations of cheating, you “lose,” as expected. But as you bundle up reluctantly, Aventurine takes your hand and leads you to the balcony instead of out into the cold streets. You pause, looking up at him, confusion etched on your face.

“I thought you’d try to drag me outside.” you say, shivering slightly as a gust of cold air swirls around you.

“True,” he replies, slipping an arm around you to pull you closer. “But I couldn’t make you too uncomfortable, could I? Besides, this way, you get your fresh air, and I get to keep you right where I like you—next to me, warm and cozy.”

Aventurine’s warmth, combined with the gentle embrace, makes the winter seem almost bearable. His presence is all you need, a reminder that even the coldest days can be filled with warmth as long as he’s by your side.

[onewingedsparrow]

@louwhose Thanks for the tag!!! I really wanted to do Ferdigard for this :)

Tagging @zeldaelmo @zeldadiarist @telemna-hyelle and anyone else!

~ Edelgard's eyes often blazed with ferocity when Ferdinand was in proximity, whether the duel was physical or verbal, but the ire in her gaze this time was a sniper's shot straight at the high doorframe above them both. "Who dared to place that silly thing here?" "If I must make a wager, I would say it was Dorothea," Ferdinand said, with a nervous chuckle. "That is, to say, the odds are not unlikely." "Then I must speak with Dorothea at once. The war room is no place for such frivolous distractions. I will not permit the Strike Force to be hampered in their strategizing!" Edelgard leapt to assault the decor, once and for all. She missed, by a clear inch or two.

The sharp thud of her boots hitting the floor created no visible shockwave, yet, somehow, set Ferdinand's heart a-rattling all the same. He bit back a smile as her glower intensified. If Faith or Reason could be cast with a scowl, he had no doubt hers would blast with alacrity and pierce the plant's berries till they dripped with scorned blood. Never to be bested by a failed first attempt, Edelgard jumped again. Ferdinand had to admit that she got closer that time; her fingertips brushed the grievous leaves. This small victory was not enough, however. If Edelgard's long hair wasn't up in her signature coils, he had no doubt she would have flipped it. "No matter. I will find Hubert." "If it vexes you so," Ferdinand said, inflection rising like a query, "then allow me to assist you." Edelgard narrowed her eyes, clearly expecting some sort of tease about height superiority as he reached the doorframe with ease and delicately tugged the mistletoe loose. He kept quiet then, however, not trusting himself to withhold his true thoughts. "Behold, Edelgard," Ferdinand said instead, daring to grin as he took a light bow and presented her the spoils with a flourish. "A gift for your worst enemies. Let us make haste and send a team of scouts into Fhirdiad, and bid them hang this in secret above their war room door. To distract them from their strategizing, of course." Edelgard's eyebrows lifted at last, and he felt pride bloom in his chest when she traded her glower for a small, sheepish smile at the silly plant. "We can certainly hold onto that idea." She prepared to take the mistletoe from his waiting hands, but when their fingers touched, he felt her motion pause. Then suddenly she was no longer looking at the plant, but at him, and though the scowl had dissipated, the power of her gaze was no less fervid or powerful. Ferdinand swallowed. "I have no need for this," Edelgard said, lightly. "Save to burn, if it strikes me. Why are you giving it to me?" "Its role may well be a distraction in war," Ferdinand said, and attempted to untighten his throat and breathe deeper into his lungs as Dorothea had instructed. "But, when the war is over, there will be time again to...to appreciate the joys of a peaceful time. So...so then, would it not be rash to burn away the living symbols of the very peace we fight for? Perhaps there is...a place, yet, in the future, for the frivolous...and the silly things." Her mouth opened slightly, but no words came to challenge. He longed to close the distance, to touch her face, to hold her near and kiss her as deeply as he had loved her for the past five years. instead, he pressed the mistletoe into her hand, and gently closed her fingers over it. "I give it to you for whatever purpose you see fit," Ferdinand whispered. "Do as you wish." Then he left through the doorway from whence he had come; and he needed not look back to know Edelgard's gaze yet followed him. ~

Can we do a thing?: Fanfic Writers, your main character and the love interest are caught under the mistletoe. What happens next? 👀

Tagging @louwhose, @coruscantiprincess, @xqueenybee, @psychicbluebirdmiracle, @precariousrelic

[thatdeadaquarius]

I have a random idea for some sagau crack loosely based on my dynamic with my friend so Im giving it to you because I have been enjoying your sagau language stuff :D

Imagine there are two readers that are two different people. Like, not as in clones they are just two separate people that are rlly good friends on earth. They both really like genshin and play the game, and they both have self aware teyvat citizens. Reader 1 is a whale. They invest a l o t of money on the game, have all the characters, and all the characters have five star weapons. They are like the usual sagau reader you see. They have used up so much money on getting all of the characters, and I mean A L L of them, best weapons, constellations and put a lot of care into it. The place where they really get to show off is their knowledge and love for the lore, and are really invested into it and read all of the artifact descriptions and books. They know about primordial one, the four shining shades, random useless facts about items and often rant to reader 2 about their theories. Their quest bar is always empty because they did them to check out the lore of the game, and are always searching for more lore. They basically play everyday and are always reacting and talking to the characters out loud, unaware that they can hear them.

Meanwhile, Reader 2 is a f2p who is only interested in the archon quest lore and the lore of their fav characters. Because they are f2p, their options are limited so there is some blatant favoritism. They choose their fav character to save up for, and then pull for them. After they get the character they want, they will no longer pull and save up from there. Because of this, they only have like 5 five stars and only have zero five star weapon. Their favourite character is their main(*cough* wanderer *cough*), and unlike reader 1 who uses all of their characters regularly, reader 2 sticks to this character for most of their gameplay unless they need to use someone else. However, reader 2 takes almost an entire month to finish building a character, because they go overboard with the artifact stats. You would expect to normally have a 50 180 crit ratio, but reader 2’s dps characters always, and I mean ALWAYS have 50 200 crit ratio or more. Like, their main (it doesnt have to be wanderer but Im putting him here anyways) has 70 and 200 crit ratio, is crowned, full 4 pc best in slot, and is even crowned and faruzan only needs like 200 er but reader 2 gave them 300. (Im totally not putting this here because this is what I did/j) Reader 2 is also the type to never speak while gaming, so the first time they spoke everyone turned it into a national holiday to be celebrated. They also play a lot less than player 1. Player 1 plays everyday while player 2 plays for a month straight and then takes a long break to wait for the content to pile up.

So these two gremlin besties are always speaking with each other, and are always on coop. Whenever player 1 needs help making team comps or building characters, they just ask player 2 for help. And whenever player 2 needs help understanding the lore of the game, they ask player 1. But all I can think abt is the first time they cooped. Imagine player 1 was using childe and then when the coop starts, both childe and wanderer are very confused as to wtf is going on. Like, childe is confused because he sensed a strange aura coming form them like whenever someone gets controlled by reader 1, and wanderer is confused because reader 2 seemed so excited that they were talking, but its just childe? Reader 2 always skips childe’s banners.

Thats it lol, hope this wasnt too long.

Not long at all! Or more like, I like long asks so feel free to share! :D

IM SO SORRY ITS LIKE MONTHS LATER TO GET TO YOU I PROMISE I LOVE UR STUFF AND AM SUPER EXCITED TO SEE IT,

IM JUST SLOW AND GOOFY 😭😭

Said friends in genshin like: ^^^

this kinda inspires me/reminds me of @mists-reading-nook soldier/poet/king post, you should check xe stuff!! Gave me brainrot to this day tbh, like im imaging how that “3rd King style of worship” would look like even now lmao ive been down bad 😭

☆

Sun: 2 Readers! (as desc. above), (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: wanderer/childe, mentions of others i forgot to focus on any one character or nation :/

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing language, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

dual symbolism everywhere, obv you both thought “for the twins” but it just kept getting out of hand the more the game updated over the months lol

like shrines/temples/churches showing up more often in new countries/areas and always identifying the same 2 gods

obv the for-the-lore player picked up on it first, and by the time the trickle-down effect happened, where characters/NPCs were outright talking about these gods, the 2nd was asking the lore knower to explain lol

the 2 gods kept getting referred to by a few names, like “The Soldier and the Scholar” or “The Sage and the Warrior” or “The Keeper and the Pursuer” etc.

after awhile of comparing both of your games, you realize that some vision users/gods tend to use the soldier/warrior/pursuer titles more often when talking about one of you, and the other gets the sage/scholar/keeper more often

u both get excited, maybe its bc you chose diff travelers or some other reason, but when u try and post abt it or otherwise ask other players u get a lot of negatives/”hasnt happened for me”s??

u both just think the games glitched or some dev is playing a prank on you two maybe,

it gets weirder when u both realize the lore player be over here getting random gifts from all the characters in the mail all the time

and just as grinding players like “ :’( my favs don't like me?? but they have the best artifacts and maxed friendship levels..”

they get flooded with multiple gifts from their main characters, most of which benefit the grind tbh lmao (like a bunch of cheaper materials or crystals to level up artifacts/weapons or to ascend that character = no more slaughtering every samurai on sight for their handguards or collected a fuckton of those blue layered mushrooms for wanderer)

god u were both grateful to this glitch ngl, it saved a lot of dumb misc tasks and was just a nice touch

no but the amount of confusion inside the game from when u first started playing together, like each of ur games began with stuff abt 1 god, then as u co-oped moved onto 2 gods (like said at the beginning)

the lore player is blabbing away like you do, which begins to be heard by the other player’s game world

like it starts as whispers in battle, then all the time, then a quiet convo in the background all the time, until they can just hear u out of earshot esp word for word when they focus!! at first the vision-users/gods got all excited bc their god was speaking!! finally!!! until I'm sure they heard narration that didn't fit/it was there sometimes even when their god’s presence wasn't?/voice sounded “off” to them/didnt fit their god…??

ok ik u were joking abt the national holiday,,, but I’m not. 😈

THE FIRST WORDS 2ND SPOKE BEING IN A PROPHECY, REGARDLESS OF WHAT IT IS THEY SAY.

Player 1, playing as Childe, steals a singular (1) sweet flower from Player 2, who has Wanderer out:

P2: “I seriously hate you. Listen to what I’m saying, I can’t stand you.”

(Wanderer panicking that its abt him- Childe freezing bc he managed to piss off a god that feels as powerful as his own- the PROPHECY LMAO- )

P1: “… you miss me.”

(everyone else: 💥vine boom sound 💥😦😨😰???)

P2: “I hate you.”

P1: “You miss me and you love me, why must we fight??”

(everyone else: 💥vine boom again💥🤨🫠??…)

P2: “I hate you-”

P1: “-we gotta good thing going on, you and I, why must we tussle??”

(everyone else: 💥yet another vine boom💥 💀💀)

(the absolute deep anxiety/pure confusion as the two harbingers heads just ping pong back and forth towards the voices lmao)

u two scare the shit out of any characters u do this with lol

they do get used to it as u talk, and the characters even manage to interact (thru hacking magical shenanigans and discord)

to send thank you gifts to player 1 for getting player 2 to talk more lol

along with sending copies of any lore books that player 2 has gotten that player 1 hasn't!

and it becomes common/tradition to exchange gifts like this to thank or appreciate the other god, like player 1 characters sending thank you gift copies of rare materials or ascension stuff that player 1 had that player 2 didn't (esp making sure to send during resinless hours lmao)

overall, 10/10, whats better than 1 god that plays one way? 2 gods that compensate for each other and now u have 2x the worshippers

(i wonder how meeting alternate versions of themselves would go, bc id like to headcanon that each of ur behavior towards them/ur unique influence has changed them a bit comparing, like they arent carbon copies anymore, not like they used to be…)

☆

hey sorry for slowing down guys!!

i just feel bad its taken me forever to get to these asks, so i wanted to take what time i could lately and charge thru them so i could spam post lol

I've also been working on fics! so that's delayed things by a lot, bc fics take longer to “respond to” than short asks or replies

my poor bsd fic

Anyway thank you so much for sending this in!!! I'm so sorry i took forever to get to it, and i hope u enjoyed response/my brain shitting this out lol

have a good weekend!! :D

Safe Travels Anon!!

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[bklily]

thinking of comedic ways of how the hell that talk is gonna go

[official-darkforest]

how we feelin chimera / tortie moonpaw truthers

[nyxi-pixie]

fake ass queers you dont even WANT to rearrange the traditional understanding of relationships

[ct-multifandom]

I don’t usually make posts like this, but I’ve been seeing a lot of anti-intellectual junk lately, and I really think we need to put the word “pretentious” up on a shelf until people learn what it actually means.

It doesn’t describe someone who likes artsy-fartsy deep meaning media. People who are pretentious are fake. They’re posers trying to be sophisticated and unique, not like other girls. They pretend to only like stuff they think will make them sound cool when they talk about it. They want to act like they know something you don’t, and they want attention for it.

By definition, if you genuinely enjoy something, you can’t be pretentious. If it resonates with you, and you analyze it, and you don’t care what people think, that’s the polar opposite, actually. If you love obscure experimental prog music, if you watch underground high concept indie films through English teacher eyes, if you spend hours in a modern art museum reading each piece as a vessel for storytelling, if your backpack’s full of poetry books that inspire you, if you play underrated games that were someone’s passion project, if you have an interest in studying the classics or the masters, you are not pretentious.

Of course, some people just don’t like some stuff, and that’s fine, but that’s not what this is about. Don’t let anti-intellectuals shame you for enjoying things just because your interests are inaccessible to them, because they refuse to be brave and put effort into critical thinking. You’re not stuck up for refusing to overlook the craft of artists.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Thank you for continuing to wupply us with old man bald charles. He is such a precious gift, and you are a gift thst keeps on giving. Also your old man bald Charles is so pretty I wanna smooch his shiny dome globe of a head 😭💖💓💖 and your xmen97/comic cherik are so wonderful i fucking kove them ahfjsjxj i love your art so much. I look at them before I sleep cuz I like using them like a doll in my head for my dreams. I make cherik kith (and maybe more?? 😳) in my dreams ajdhsjdj

I'm sorry for being incoherent it's my bedtime but i just had to drop in your ask to tell you you are an amazing and talented artist. And your art are so well made and detailed and i love them asjfkakfk 💖💖💖💖💖💖

MY LOVELY FRIEND i hope your slumber is wonderful and darling like this ask you've sent me THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺!!!!!!

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King Seb :D

[unproduciblesmackdown]

sometimes recall that Scenario of like "oh a stranger draws another stranger sharing a space with them & without their knowing & Drawn Stranger is like how flattering that you did that & i love your Beautiful Artistic Interpretation of me" which i hate so i was like what's the opposite of that. & i'm pretty sure i'm averse to like every aspect of it & the opposite is about strangers sharing space with consideration for that & like oh no its sickos using headphones, on they phones, reading. if direct verbal interactions happen (or eye contact, or nonverbal cues) it doesn't have to Transcend shit or be an inherent improvement over not interacting. but also the best opposite is like oh sorry i looked over your shoulder kind of or just indeed spontaneously glimpsed what you were drawing but i like your jellicle cats haunted house episode fanart. or i have a question about some technique or materials i see you using b/c i'd be interested in having that knowledge for myself & if this is a meetanything that's fine i guess but can be a limited as what it is strangers interaction for a minute which is no worse

[gildedmuse]

Ahh, what a cute scene in the middle of so much violence and drama. I wonder what these little sweeties wished for.

["What did you wish for this year, darling?" / " For life to stop sucking. Why? What did you wish for? Magic fairy dust? Don't be an idiot, we all know this place is deep in the shit."]

I mean, I DEFINITELY know what hers was. I mean just look at that sweet, innocent face.

[Let the fire consume. Let it make ash of the immoral, the unkind and sunder their souls to the ever burning planes. Rebirth is on its way but first we must make a blood sacrifice to the eternal flame.]

.... She's not wrong.

[halfblood-princes-crown]

I saw the supernatural post you made and I couldn't help but think that Snape would hate the Winchesters. The way they hunt down anything that isn't like them in nature to kill it would remind him of Voldemort. Thoughts?

Anon, you just started me on my bullshit

Ok ok!

That’s a good comparison! I like where your heads at. I was thinking more along the lines of he’d notice how different they were

Right off the bat of meeting, think about first impressions: Dean is shoot first ask questions later. A wizard? Time to die mf. Sam on the other hand is like “Wait, he hasn’t done anything! Let’s just talk to him and figure out what’s going on”

Right off the bat, Dean is not in Snapes favor, but Snape isn’t up Sams ass either. It takes a lot more than patience to impress our bat bitch

When Dean finally does agree to talk, what do we all know comes next? A self righteous, snarky remark. Strike mf two. Meanwhile Sam looks annoyed or mildly uncomfortable with whatever Dean said because they are, in fact, standing in front of someone who could kill them in one word. Literally. Now he’s trying to change the subject and ask what’s going on and the standard “making sure you aren’t a threat” questions. Snape is a double spy, he can read body language. Sam does not approve of his brothers behavior…but he hasn’t said anything about it either

Give or take 30 minutes to an hour, what’s the next thing Snape is gonna notice? Deans attitude towards Sam

Do you see where I’m going with this?

He’s going to compare Dean to Sirius black (derogatory). I said what I said.

One would think “Sam is Regulus then?” Nope. He’s Remus.

THINK ABOUT IT!

Sam has demon blood in his veins and is outcasted and shamed for it, even by people who are close to him. Sam has been putting up with Deans sideways remarks and straight up abuse for how long? He makes excuses for Dean and when he DOES stand up for himself, he always apologizes or feels guilty about it. Remus and his lycanthropy! We saw in the books how they made sideways jokes about it. Joking about the full moon and shit. Then we have to remember “The Prank”

Sam sees how overly violent Dean is about hunting, he also sees how unfair and cruel he is. He ALSO sees how that unfairness and cruelty extends to friends. And while Sam actually does say something, he never says enough, and usually makes at least one excuse for Dean…Remus “Bystander” Lupin!

Sam was told that he was someone’s weapon at least twice in the show (Yellow eyes and Lucifer). I mean that sounds a lot like how werewolf!Remus was used as a weapon to almost kill Severus in “The Prank”. Just saying.

Severus knows all too well that a person’s intentions don’t always match their actions, so I don’t think he’d judge them for hunting, but he will notice the INTENTIONS. Dean hunts for sport and Sam hunts to save people. Difference.

Dean Winchester would trigger the fuck out of Severus Snape