#love ya bestie!! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[nyaloha]

happy birthday, @energyscarf!!!

[takaraphoenix]

I don't know why, but 2024 really is the year of missing the Hale Pack for me :(

I miss Derek having the chance to become a real alpha

I miss Erica and Boyd getting the chance to return to the pack and live

I miss snarky bastard uncle Peter in the corner

I miss getting to explore Isaac living with Derek and finding a home

I miss Pack Mom Stiles

Heck, I miss Jackson getting the chance to find a place where he belongs instead of being written off

[pettyprocrastination]

I'm sorry to the gang but I think initially Aemond is a bad lover.

Like, to actually think about it.

His first ever sexual interaction is with a prostitute twice his age that he was coerced into by his older brother, and it seems like he's never seen that woman again until season one when he returned to the brothel in search of aegon hence her speaking on how much he's grown since she last saw him which he seemed visibly uncomfortable within.

It's likely that his interaction with Sylvie was his first and only sexual interaction.

Which means that when he married you and it comes time to consummate your marriage and try for an heir. The sex is...less than ideal.

It's methodical and routine. Your husband above you rutting into you until he cums and then some because the maestro said his seed must "settle" for a child to take hold.

In his mind, sex is done out of obligation and dedication. It's an expectation for a man of a noble house to sire a son to continue the name. And what does he know of pleasure? The vile whispers his brother croons with no intention other than to see his younger brother uncomfortable? The prostitute he laid with before he was even a man himself? Those situations did nothing but make his skin crawl- it's no wonder that his sex is nothing further than noble obligation to his wife and his lineage.

It's less than an issue in your eyes until a knight tasked with standing guard by your door each night speaks I'll of the prince to his brothers in arms.

It spreads like wildfire before the day is even finished. What was once gentle ribbing between men in arms became vile wishes towards you- the dragon prince's wife. Conversation of how it's "a damn shame to let a pretty little thing like her go to waste" and how if they had their chance they'd show you how a proper man lays with a woman.

And maybe one idiotic son of a lord brought into the kingsguard, egged on by too much wine and the racacous laughter of his brethren jests that perhaps one night he'll slip into your room and show you how a proper man fucks when your husband is a way.

"Let the cyclops ride his dragon if it means the princess will ride mine."

Unfortunate for him that our husband happened to be entering the training yard just in time to hear his promise to his brothers in arms.

Now the thing with Aemond is that he's deeply prideful, but also so, so, so desperate for approval. He's spent his entire life chasing it and getting so little in return. His mother was insistent on what makes a good husband- loyalty, dedication, listening to ones wife unlike the way he watched his father wave away her concerns all throughout his childhood. He was adamant about being the proper husband in every strict tradition and stiff display of affection he offered you-

but nobody helped him with sex. So to learn through the vile words of some idiotic guards that he has left his wife wanting becomes the only thought in his mind and must be rectified.

You've only just begun your day when your husband slips into your room, telling whoever is stationed by your door to leave as he locks it behind him before standing before you, hands twitching and eye looking anywhere in the room but you.

So nervous, like a little boy all over again.

When you ask him gently what's wrong he does not hide it from you.

"I have left you wanting, haven't I?"

You let out an incredulous laugh, so taken aback by the blunt question you don't know what would be an appropriate response.

To say he hasn't would be a lie.

To say he has could harm his ego, further spurring his rage.

Instead, you gently cup his face where a pale hand envelopes your own.

"Most men do not concern themselves with the comfort of their wife."

Your blaise response hurts more than saying yes.

"I am not most men."

Your husband, the crown prince and rider of a generations old war hardened beast, looks at you with eager eyes and tells you- asks you to show him how you wish to be touched.

How to fuck you.

You spend the night In his arms, gentle guiding him on where you wish to be kissed, bitten, and licked. How to hold you, where to touch and how hard. Your husband is a receptive one, content to go for hours upon hours until your legs are trembling and there are tears in your eyes because once he learned the utter euphoria of seeing your sing his name in the breathy moan there was nothing he desired more in this wretched world to hear it again and again and again.

When you do finally rest, bodies slick with sweat and exhaustion creeping through your veins, you find yourself wrapped in his arms and his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. He says nothing about siring a child, or the maestros advice, but simply kisses the spot just beneath your ear before letting himself slowly drift into a deep sleep, the first moment within your marriage that he is truly relaxed in your presence.

The next morning his family is kind enough to say nothing of the bite marks lining your neck as you eat breakfast, just as they are mindful to not ask of the head that once belonged to a member of the kings guard that now belonged on a spike before the castle walls.

[accirax]

🎨6 days left until DRDT Chapter 2 continues!🎳

[fatuismooches]

i like to think that childe would show [name] (fragile!reader) how he fights. he's showing off a little, yes, but he really just wants some praise for once. so you're the first person he could think of near the palace. and you could also tell him about how you fought when you could back then, and he'd maybe try to do it. why you ask, well...

1, he can learn new fighting styles and stuff, and he always wants to be better (clearly)

2, he heard from pulcenelli that reliving old memories can help if you feel sad, in pain or stressed, so he thought it could help you a little, and get that emotion out yk.

3, you get a distraction from your illness, so maybe the pain doesnt feel as bad, if just for a little. which is always a plus.

oh and dont forget to tell dottore that he isnt trying to steal you away from him, he cant exactly hurt the other harbingers without consent, so the agents will have to be the stress relief for that (and i dont think sweets can calm down smt on that level)

-luv ya

Initially, after Dottore found out about Childe's unwelcome visits to your room, the Eleventh stayed away for a bit only because he feared getting on worse terms with the Second. He did feel bad about leaving you, but with lots of persistence, you were able to reinstate his visiting privileges! (Just don't let the segments interrupt you two. The atmosphere gets really stuffy...)

Childe didn't trust you at first, probably still has some reservations still considering you're with Dottore, but finds your personality and demeanor refreshing. You're quite open and honest with him which is a stark difference compared to his co-workers, just what he likes. So whenever you're nice to him, he knows you're being genuine, and well... he enjoys the company.

You're the one who probably told him the stories of how you fought back then in the Akademiya, how you used to protect Dottore from malfunctioning Ruin Machines to Treasure Hoarders alike. Needless to say Childe is fascinated and most definitely wants to fight you, but for obvious reasons neither of you can. He's also asked you if Dottore or his clones would be willing to duel with him. For his sake, you always decline.

Instead, he settles with showing you his moves, which is entertaining for both of you. In the beginning, you just give him lots of tips from your experience, but when he continues to stick around you can figure out he's trying to distract you from your illness pretty easily. You're grateful, the segments are jealous that some ginger is stealing your attention, but they can't do anything.

Of course, if Dottore had it his way, he would have it so that Tartaglia wouldn't appear six feet near you, but seeing how happy you are to see this... 'friend' of yours, well, at the end of the day he's secretly just a man who succumbs to your silly wishes despite his protesting.

[karlie-xox]

Tumblr to Karlie-XCX:

Your blog is soo cute! Be a REAL SHAME if we just deleted it for no reason! 🤭

Hi besties!

No, I did NOT purge, and no, I did NOT block you!

Tumblr just nuked me, but now I'm back bitch!

Look forward to making more ✨ exciting sissy content ✨ for you bestie!

Karlie 😘

[artsycooky13]

top 3 fave bbys in the burrito show (bonus SUPER LONG tags on how i feel bout the characters)

[secretsofthewilde]

[arainbowmess]

I NEED Crowley and loki as a duo

[rocksanddeadflowers]

Been thinking about applying the myth where Thor has to pretend to be a giants bride to get his hammer back (you know the one, right??) to the TBI characters. Doubt I'll write it out but I have SO MANY THOUGHTS ON IT. My main thought atm being that, from what I remember, Heimdall was the first person to suggest Thor cross dress. Which is just. The excuse to right out Heimdall's involvement is almost as enticing as getting to write out Tyr. He's just. So silly to me. But so badass. I love him.

I can see everyone in the TBI setting at some grand meeting table for the Aesir (and co.) with Thor freaking out about his poor hammer (which, yes seems tricky to write in TBI context but. We'll just patch that plothole it with something later, I have a loose thread idea or two.), Freya desperately trying to avoid involvement in the entire debacle, Loki concerned but still trying not to giggle at the absurdity while Sigyn kicks her under the table to tell her to stop laughing. Heimdall leans over the table towards Thor, trying to remain stoic but his small smirk and gold eyes glittering with Loki approved mischief somewhat gives him away as he suggests, "If we don't want to risk our dear stunning lady here, and you need your hammer back, why don't you be Freya?"

Loki loses it laughing and most of the table can't help but laugh or giggle quietly, including Sigyn. Thor is immediately against the idea, but Loki is already signing up to be his handmaiden in between gasps of giggles (because she would never miss out on such good mischief), and really the idea is such a hit that Thor is sorely outvoted.

The story is still brought up for years to come, typically for a laugh at Thor's expensive. Still no one could deny he looked damn good in that dress.

[chuchaaay]

Just 2 different aesthetic besties at a Creed x 3 Doors Down x Finger Eleven concert 🫶🏼

[idk-i-want-mcl-content]

Devon's route text after ep 4

Devon: I really liked talking to you. Outside of work. Candy: I feel the same way. It's good to get to know each other. And next time I will drive the bike! Or at least, i'll try... Devon: Haha. Fine, I guess we'll see how you do. I think I'll try to have my helmet on 😛 Have a good night.

[shabeeboothedrawingender]

I got married to @daka-d3monb0y lads.

Platonically.

[haruchuiyo]

“let’s do a heart!” “do a heart?!”

ahh me and satoru are just sooo adorable I can’t >//<

chibi commission from @avonyxx 🥹🩷

[e1dritchqueer]

Holy shit I might have a raging crush on someone

[josephslittledeputy]

WIP... Oh shit, its actually Wednesday??

Tagged by @wrathfulrook @clicheantagonist @marivenah @cassietrn @the-silver-chronicles @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and I thiiiiink that's it... sorry if you've tagged me & you're not on here, its been a hot minute since I've posted a wip wednesday & my memory is basically Swiss cheese

Tagging anyone who wants to self indulgently share a WIP! Feel free to tag me, I love to read new stuff :)

**Also terribly sorry in advance cause this turned out to be a bit longer than I thought it would be**

WIP 1: OG Verse - fun times with Celeste & Gabriel

He has to resist the urge to throttle her, lest he ruin the inside of his house filled with years of carefully handpicked items, ones he held a certain fondness for. "You ruined my life, Celeste. Or do you not recall?” "Your life?" She tilts her head in mock curiosity. "What life? The one where you were sent anywhere they told you to go, like some mongrel with a barely slackened leash?" “Excuse me?" “We can pretend otherwise. Keep up the illusion that your life was marvelous, picture perfect even. But we both know the truth, don't we?" She takes a step closer. “You were nothing but the High Council’s defanged pup. Cluelessly doing their bidding before I freed you. If anything, you should be thanking me." "Thanking you?" He clenches and unclenches his fist in an attempt to suppress his anger. "Hate me if you must, fight me even, but do it later. Right now we must get out of here. If they do not know where I am yet, they soon will. What do you think will happen once they realize one of their precious dhamphirs has been under their nose this whole time?"

Celeste truly is the nicest individual you'll ever meet :))

Including this little snippet from Gabriel's pov as well cause idk, I just really like it

Unbidden worry strikes him. He listens, waits, and when his ears pick up the sound of soft, even breathing he lets out a breath of his own. Celeste and the baby were still there, unharmed, perhaps even sleeping. It brings an odd sense of comfort, reminiscent of times long forgotten, times he didn’t want to remember. If he did, he’d have to remember what brought them to a halt in the first place and he had a job to do. Grief and old wounds had no place here, at least not at the moment. Kicking his boots off, he treks into the bathroom and gently closes the door behind him. It’s a simple design: Shower to his left, toilet to his right, and a sink with a mirror above it directly across from the door. Leaning against the sink, he ruffles his short, black hair that's shaved on the sides and traces his fingers over an old, faded scar. It runs down almost the whole length of his face, going over his left eye and stopping just shy of the corner of his mouth. Overlapping it is another, only this one goes across his face horizontally, over the bridge of his nose and from cheek to cheek. The only thing that remains of the old Gabriel are his blue eyes, once full of life and mischief, now faded and dull. Turning away from his visage, he heads toward the shower and turns it on, stripping down while he waits for the water to heat up. He doesn’t need a mirror to see the multitude of scars and tattoos that adorn his body. Aching for another drink—if only to dull his senses and lingering memories once more—he curbs the yearning and steps beneath the water.

WIP 2: They Watch From The Pews

Willa squirms, trying to dodge cold fingers that reach out to trace over the letters, caressing them with a sadistic fascination that makes her stomach curdle in disgust. Disgust quickly transforms into a desperation to get away once he finally reveals the knife kept hidden behind his back. “Usually I’d peel the sin off but… I think this will suit you much better, don't you?" Pressing the tip of his blade into her skin, he teasingly drags it across her skin. "Tell me, Deputy, how did you feel when you got the news of Samuel's death?" "Chipper." She spitefully answers with a sneer. John heaves a dramatic sigh and presses the blade down harder, prompting tiny beads of blood to bubble up as he traces over the letters of her tattoo. "You can make this easier for yourself, you know." "I've heard that before. Got me a bullet to the leg." "Because you ran. My men only acted accordingly." "Fuck you and your men, pussy." "My, what a mouth on you." He tuts and makes a deeper cut. Her teeth sink into the leather in her mouth, denying him the satisfaction of hearing her make a noise. Without pause, he moves onto the second letter, brows scrunched up in concentration as he goes over the lines again and again. It isn’t until he’s on the last letter that she finally breaks with a muffled groan. He stops, lifting his eyes from his work. “Comfortable?”

John & Willa are bonding so well. Truly, I think they're starting to get along!