#my girls... phone motif.

[lilacerull0]

[marbirds]

yay!

[raspberrywiskey]

do you have something against dogs?

[cactus-cuddler]

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 ✭ 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub! virgin female reader

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Plot: There is no specific plot. Bucky and the reader like tease and are both dangerously attracted to each other

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: explicit sex, use of nicknames as "good girl", "slut" and "whore". Daddy kink and dirty talk. I don't think there are any other warnings.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k (sorry)

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ Author's note: sorry for any mistakes that may be there, English is not my first language! And sorry if the scenes may be badly written, it's been a long time since I wrote a smut between a woman and a man.

I write this ff because today I turn 18 (Happy Birthday to me!!) and I want so sign it. From today I can interact with all the "minor DNI" posts!!

I don't care if you are minors, read it if you want <3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

James Buchanan Barnes. The very mention of this name can make your heart race, recalling his powerful presence, his toned physique, and the intense gaze he fixes on you whenever your paths cross. Your thoughts often wander to him, an obsession that fills your mind in the quietest hours of the night.

Yet, despite the thoughts that consume you, you're still a virgin. You’ve never found someone you were willing to give your heart to, let alone something more intimate. You've had relationships, but each time, you’ve held back, refusing to let things go beyond harmless flirtation. The thought of being vulnerable like that has always kept you at a distance. But with him, it’s different. There’s something about Bucky that makes you reconsider everything.

Your relationship with Bucky is hard to define. Sometimes you get along well, but other times, you find yourself wishing he would just disappear. And then there are moments when you wish he’d stop arguing with you altogether, using his frustration in ways that words can’t express. Is that too much to ask?

You’re curled up on your couch with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a blanket to ward off the winter chill. As you flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch, your phone buzzes with incoming messages. Seeing his name on the screen sends a pang through your chest.

Teasing him has always been your favorite game. You start a random movie, not really caring about the plot, as you wait for him to arrive. The distant sound of a motorcycle engine signals that you're in trouble now.

When the doorbell rings, you open it, quickly masking your excitement. He’s standing there in his pajamas, and you can’t help but giggle. His pants have a childish space motif, and the matching sweatshirt does nothing to diminish his appeal. You’re wrapped in a blanket, so you're not much better off in his eyes.

"Popcorn?" he asks, and you invite him in. As he sees the movie already playing, he reminds you of his earlier request. You shrug and sit on the couch, munching on the popcorn he brought.

“You’re a bad girl,” he says, taking the remote to choose something else to watch.

“Just the way you like them,” you reply with a smirk.

You and Bucky work together in the same company, nothing out of the ordinary. You handle the computers and accounting, while Bucky works with metal. His vibranium arm would be perfect for his job, but he rarely uses it. "Oops, I’m right-handed, I do it without thinking," he says when someone asks why he doesn’t use his more powerful arm. You’ve seen how he looks at women, and it stirs something within you—a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

You first started talking after you accidentally spilled coffee on his white shirt a few months ago. To make amends, you offered to clean it, using a trick you’d read in a 1950s magazine titled "How to Be the Perfect Housewife." Not that you’re aiming for that role; you detest the idea of being confined by outdated gender roles. Patriarchy is disgusting! You would never want to marry a man in your life who confines you to a house with four children, a dog, three cats and a cactus to take care of alone.

Your conversations started off innocent enough, but things took a turn when you began texting late into the night. You both started teasing each other, pushing boundaries just to see how far the other would go. It became a game, one where neither of you wanted to lose face, even as feelings began to creep in.

So, how did he end up at your place tonight? You’re not sure, and it worries you. He’s never been to your house before. Sure, he’s given you rides home after work, a habit that started after the coffee incident. It became a routine, all because you playfully challenged his chivalry. “You? A gentleman? Don’t make me laugh,” you had texted him one morning. That very day, he was waiting outside your building, opening the car door for you. "It doesn’t mean anything," you had said to him in thanks. But tonight feels different.

The movie he picks is just awful. It’s filled with scenes of sex without sense.

“Is this too much for you? Should I change it?” he asks each time, and you just shake your head. In your life you see, read and write stuff more scandalous.

“How boring, if done like this even sex becomes boring," Bucky complains about another sex scene with the missionary position.

“You talk big, but I bet you couldn’t do any better,” you say, challenging him, not realizing what you’ve just started.

“With just one touch, I could make you scream my name,” he says, his voice low and intense. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but you’re not backing down.

“I’d like to see you try,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your voice.

He looks at you, his gaze lingering, but then he sighs and turns back to the movie. “I’m a gentleman,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

You feel a wave of frustration, mixed with a sense of longing that you can’t quite shake. You don’t want him to be a gentleman; you want him to see you as more. You’re a ruthless woman, you won’t give up easily. If you are not satisfied with him, well you will do it yourself. In front of his eyes.

You take off your blanket and lift your shirt up to your hips and pull your panties off throwing them on the floor. You lie down on your back and put your feet on his knees. You put two fingers in your mouth and suck them in front of him. ‘He provoked me’. You repeat yourself so you don’t feel guilty about what you’re about to do.

You do small circular movements on your clit and slowly start to sigh for the pleasure you are causing yourself.

“Bucky..." you say between moaning as you start to penetrate your little cunt with two fingers. Bucky is doing everything he can to hold himself back. His erection thills in his boxer asking to be released and enjoy for you and your warmth however he does not want to give up. It will not look but has solid moral principles and not taking your virginity is one of those.

“Bucky… please fuck me with your cock,” you say clenching your couch with fingers to hold back your spasms. This provocation has hit the mark, his erection is now painful and not releasing it could drive him crazy. Reach out to your face, sweat drops are playing on your forehead. He orders you to sit down and you perform. You are sitting one next to the other and you have your leg over his to allow him free access to your pussy.

"I won’t take your virginity," he announces by passing his thumb along your big lips. An unsatisfied grunt comes out of your lips, you want more. Much more than that.

“Why not?" you complain "I want you Bucky, I want to shout your name" add grumbling.

"It would be a nice show, believe me sweetheart but I can’t deprive you of your first time with someone you love," he says. In a flash all the previous excitement fades away as if in a spell. You close your legs and ask him to leave. "You can’t decide what’s right or wrong for me" you told him by pulling out your voice. He’s made his choice, and for tonight, that will have to be enough.

As he leaves, you find yourself wondering what it would take to bridge the gap between you. Because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want more from him, and you’re not sure how much longer you can wait.

The next morning, you wake up hoping that the night with Bucky was just a bad dream—a nightmare you could shake off with a shiver. But as you lie there, staring at the ceiling, you realize that it was all too real. The memory comes rushing back: you, vulnerable and exposed, touching yourself in front of him, moaning his name, only to be met with rejection. Your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and frustration. How could I have let myself go like that?

But there’s another thought that creeps in, unbidden. Despite everything, a part of you finds it almost sweet that Bucky doesn’t want to take your virginity unless it’s something more than just lust. He wants you to save it for someone you truly love. But the truth is, you do want it. You want him. The image of his lips on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your body, flashes through your mind, and you feel a pang of desire so intense it nearly takes your breath away. You’ve fantasized about him for so long—wondered if he could fulfill the dark, desperate needs you’ve kept buried. You’re sure you wouldn’t regret giving him your first time, so why should he?

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me,’ you think suddenly, the possibility of hitting you like a bucket of cold water. ‘Maybe I’m just a game to him, someone he can tease and torment without ever really wanting.’ The thought is unbearable, twisting in your gut like a knife.

You force yourself out of bed, deciding that you won’t let these thoughts ruin your day. Before work, you brew a hot cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will give you the energy you need to push through. You can’t face Bucky today—not after last night. Instead, you opt for your favorite mode of transport, the one so many dismiss as the “poor man’s commute.” But you’ve always found the train comforting, a place where you can disappear into your thoughts without the pressure of small talk or the need to keep up appearances.

The ride is uneventful, the rhythmic clatter of the train soothing your nerves somewhat. When you arrive at your stop, your office is just a short walk away. You’re early—too early, really—so you take your time, letting your mind wander as you stroll. The morning air is crisp, and the world feels strangely peaceful. ‘Why can’t my mind be this calm?’ you wonder, but of course, it’s not that simple. Last night’s events linger, casting a shadow over everything.

Just as you’re about to step inside, your phone rings, the sound jolting you out of your thoughts. His name flashes on the screen, and your heart skips a beat. What does he want now?

"Y/N, come down now or we'll be late!" Bucky's voice snaps through the line, sharp with irritation. You can almost see the frown on his face, the way his brows would knit together. But with a calmness that surprises even you, you tell him you're already at the office, having taken the train.

"I hope you're joking," he growls, his voice low and husky, sending a familiar shiver down your spine. Even when he's angry, it's a voice that could melt you.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," you reply, hanging up before he can say more. The truth is, you didn't want to face him this morning, not after last night. The thought of seeing his cold blue eyes, remembering how they watched you with a mix of desire and restraint, makes your chest tighten.

You greet your colleagues warmly, slipping on your glasses as you sit at your desk, but your mind is elsewhere. The memory of Bucky's gaze, the way his hand almost trembled before he pulled away from you, keeps playing on a loop.

Hours pass in a blur of work until lunchtime, when Bucky suddenly appears at your usual spot in the break room. The moment you see him, your heart skips a beat. His presence fills the space, commanding and intense. You watch as he approaches, your colleagues' chatter fading into the background.

"I need to talk to you, Y/N," he says, his voice a mix of urgency and something deeper-something almost vulnerable. His eyes, however, are still guarded, a wall you've never been able to fully break through.

Your colleagues exchange knowing glances, smirking, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Without a word, you follow Bucky out of the room, conscious of the curious eyes behind you.

He leads you to the women's bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, he turns to you, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he begins, but the words seem empty, as if even he doesn't believe them.

"For what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding now, and you don't know if it's from anger, confusion, or the mere proximity to him.

"For last night. I have no right to tell you who should take your virginity," he says, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face.

"Don't say that out loud!" you hiss, glancing around as if someone might be listening. The idea that anyone might hear about your inexperience makes you cringe.

His lips curl into a smirk beneath your hand, and he gently removes it, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of electricity through you. "Do you still want it?" he whispers, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck. His voice is dark, teasing, but there's something else there too-a hint of uncertainty, as if he's afraid of your answer.

Your breath catches as he presses his knee between your legs, his hands firm on your hips. God, why does he have to be so confusing? You need him, but his mixed signals are driving you insane.

"You have to understand, I don't want you to regret anything you do with me," he murmurs against your lips, finally adjusting his knee just where you need it. Your body responds instantly, a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

His words are laced with concern, but also with a promise of something darker. "Even though it may not seem like it, I really care about you," he continues, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek, a gesture so tender it makes your chest ache. You feel small under his gaze, like a puzzle he's trying to figure out. And yet, in this position, you're certain you could unravel completely in his hands.

"The day I fuck you, I want to hear words like 'I love you, Daddy' coming out of your mouth. I don't want it to be a simple one-night stand, okay?" he finishes, pulling back just as quickly as he came, leaving you breathless and reeling.

As the door closes behind him, you're left with the echo of his words, your thoughts spiraling. 'How can he have this much control over me?' you wonder, struggling to steady your breath. Your heart is racing, your body still humming with the desire he left behind. Until yesterday, you were convinced your relationship with Bucky was built on mutual dislike and a twisted game of dominance. But now, you're not so sure. There's something deeper-a need, an almost primal urge to possess and be possessed.

The day you finally give in to him won't be gentle. You can feel it in the way your bodies clash, in the intensity of his gaze. It will be raw, fierce, and everything you've secretly craved. And when it happens, you'll be ready to let him see every part of you-the parts you've never shown anyone else, not even yourself.

After work Bucky takes you home, you decide to let go of what happened because now you know that he wants you as much as you do. He wants to be there for you and give you everything you can give.

"I've been thinking about what you said all day," you admit, adjusting Bucky's seatbelt. It feels tighter than it should and you think it's the reason you're short of breath when in reality it's the man in the driver's seat who's gripping the wheel in a way that's too erotic for your tastes.

"What conclusion have you come to?" he asks without taking his eyes off the road. The way his jaw clenched when he spoke and the hint of a neat beard on his cheeks spark some very perverse thoughts in you.

"I want you Bucky, so much. It wouldn't be a one night stand, I know I'd be addicted to your body pressing against mine," you admit bravely and a smile lights up his face.

“Show me how much you want me,” he taunts you.

You decide to please him without using your sharp tongue and you reach out to the crotch of his pants to feel what you have dreamed of so much. Under your fingers you feel him slowly swelling and as you feel it you bite your lip to hold back the excitement that is growing inside you.

You unzip his pants while he is still driving, you notice that he has slowed down and on his face you notice the desire he has for you. As soon as you free his cock you notice that your fantasies did not do him justice. It is definitely bigger and thicker than the one you imagined you rode every night. You wet your hand with saliva - as you have seen done in many pornos - and you start to touch it enjoying the heat on your hand.

You make small movements with the palm of your hand and the idea that someone could see you does nothing but excite you more. You are not an expert, you do not know what he might like more but despite this the movements of your hand are decisive.

"I knew you were a good girl," Bucky says from behind the wheel. Seeing how he's reacting to your touch excites you even more. His breathing is no longer regular, you see his expression satisfied by your touch and when you notice that there are only a few meters left to your house you almost feel sorry.

You start to pump faster, you have decided to challenge yourself and you want to make him come before you get to your house. As your hand increases the speed his sighs become faster and faster and when you see from his look that he is close to that point you take off your belt and lower yourself towards his big cock and take his tip between your lips until your mouth is filled.

"Such a good girl," he says to you while parking the car and you look into his eyes smiling, swallowing all his seed and licking your lips to show him that you liked it.

He fixes his cock in his jeans and then follows you into your home. He intends to return the favor you have done him and will really make you scream as he always threatened while he was teasing you. Once the door is closed behind you, you begin to kiss with desire. Your tongues touch and search for each other and feeling your taste mixed with his cum gives him another throbbing erection despite the orgasm of a few minutes ago.

“I knew there was a whore inside you looking for my cock," he tells you in a hoarse voice. Your body is on fire, you need him to give you more. He makes you lie down on the same couch where he rejected you less than twenty-four hours ago and begins to undress you hastily without paying attention to your clothes. He scatters everything around the room and when you are finally naked in front of his gaze he admires you in amazement.

You are perfect. Your body is perfect in his eyes. Every little imperfection that you see in it are things that he loves. You are a Greek goddess in his eyes and every part of you belongs to him and you both know it. From the day you stained his white shirt with coffee you already knew it would end like this.

He starts taking your breasts with his big hands, only his mind knows how many times he has wanted to touch them, bite them and suck them and now everything is possible. With his metallic hand he holds one of your nipples tightly, the cold touch of his hand makes you arch your back with pleasure and in the meantime he sucks and bites the other nipple making you want even more. Your gasps are music to his ears, your body is like an instrument in his hands and with every touch he is able to let out those little sounds he loves.

“Bucky, please I want more,” you beg with the help of your needy gaze.

"What a needy whore, isn't you?" he sneers and you nod to agree with him. You want to be his whore for tonight and for all the nights to come. He leaves a trail of kisses all over your body and then lingers on your pussy. The place where you need him to focus.

With his thumb he begins to touch your clit and in the meantime his gaze is fixed on your face dominated by pleasure from that insignificant touch. While with his thumb he continues his work with his middle finger he begins to penetrate your cunt going deep to feel how wet you are just for him.

"What a wet pussy we have," he compliments and then licks your juices from his fingers and satisfied he licks his lips.

He makes you sit with your back to the backrest and positions himself between your legs, placing your legs on his shoulders. As he enters you with two fingers, he begins to lick your clit while your hands are firmly on his head. You push him closer to you while desperate cries escape from your lips. Before that, you had never felt anything more pleasurable. His tongue moves expertly on your tight pussy sucking the right spots and alternating with licking.

“Bucky… I’m about to come,” you tell him between sighs of pleasure.

"Good girls only come when they are told, you are a good girl aren't you?" he tells you after taking his tongue off the place he was devouring with pleasure. He puts his fingers in your mouth and you impulsively suck his fingers taking all your flavor away from him. Your pussy is sweet and the taste and smell make Bucky ecstatic. He starts to undress too, letting his erection come out, now it seems even bigger than before and you don't know if you'll be able to take it all. But you know you'll make it, you want to show Bucky that you're a good girl. Good girls can take all the cock.

Before filling your pussy Bucky positions himself between your breasts and you squeeze them around his hard and veiny member. He starts moving with restrained rhythms while you stick out your tongue to lick the tip when you have the chance.

"You have no idea how much I've dreamed of being between these tits," he tells you between thrusts. Your hot tits around his throbbing cock are an incredible sight. Then Bucky takes a condom from his jeans pocket and orders you to put it on him.

You tear it off with your fingers and place it on the tip of Bucky's cock and then with your lips you cover that member with the condom.

“You're my good girl," he says, caressing your cheek. Then with a brusque gesture he turns you around and you find yourself doggy style on the couch with your legs wide open. He spits on his fingers and lubricates your pussy and then he enters you. Slowly and trying to get you used to it, it's still your first time.

His thrusts are slow but firm. It's not enough for you, you want more.

"Bucky..." you say between sighs.

"I know, baby... let your pussy get at ease to my big cock," he replies, putting his hand around your neck and then touching your breasts with the nipples still hard and stained by him. As soon as he notices that you no longer feel any pain, he increases his speed. He fills you up completely, making you scream with pleasure, he doesn't give you time to make you understand that he's sending your mind into a spin.

"Bucky... I'm going to..." you can't finish your sentence because he slaps you on the right butt. The slap sends you into paradise.

"You can only come when daddy tells you to," he replies, slapping you again, this time on your left ass cheek making you scream in pleasure.

After many deep and fast thrusts you feel the orgasm inside you, holding it back is fucking hard but you don't want to disobey Bucky, or rather, your daddy. He has taken away all your sharp responses with his cock turning you into a perfect whore for him. Like you always dreamed.

"Come for daddy, doll," he orders you, he's almost ready to come too but he wants to do it to you. On top of your body. You don't have to be told twice and you come on his big cock and as soon as he comes out of you he takes off the condom and orders you to get on your knees in front of him.

He starts touching himself in front of you and explodes in an orgasm on your beautiful face throwing away every single ounce of purity you had left. You lick your lips hoping to be able to take some of his cum and be able to taste it again like in the car. He grabs your neck and kisses you with fury. Your mouths both taste like the sex you shared and you can't be happier.

“You did really well,” he tells you and you bite your lip at the compliment. “I'm proud of you," he adds, giving you another long, longing kiss.

You go to take a shower to wash your sweaty bodies but "by mistake" Bucky's cock enters your pussy again and fucks you in your shower again giving you the second orgasm of the day and again by mistake his cock ends up in your mouth and Bucky teaches you how to give a blowjob that satisfies him. As soon as you finish the shower you slip into your bed, he wants to be with you after what you have shared and once in bed you fall asleep hugging each other.

The next morning, thankfully a Sunday, you devour everything you have to eat. You were so into sex that you didn't have dinner last night and your arguments resume but end with you rolling around in bed.

This new perspective excites you more than it should, every argument now corresponds to a perfect fuck and now to shut you up Bucky will put his cock in your mouth. "What a beautiful whore you are when you suck it," and these dirty words help you get an orgasm. Bucky says good girls like to be called whores and you are one.

"You're all mine," he tells you while you're sitting at the kitchen table where you've just finished eating, he said he wanted dessert so you you decide to propose yourself as a meal. You took off your panties and without being asked he was between your legs sucking and licking his sweet dessert.

"I love you daddy," you say closer to your orgasm, those are Bucky's favorite words. They make him understand that everything about you is his, your heart, your perfect cunt, your mouth and the rest of your body.

[thirstydemisexual]

LINGERIE||Simon"Ghost"Riley X Plus size!reader

Plot: A package that you definitely did not order gets delivered to your house

(inspired by the amazing fic "Friction" by @daisies-daydreams , I just had to write my take on Ghost buying his plus size girl some lingerie because DAM if it isn't stuck in my head)

Rating: (18+)

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut!, smut with little plot, body worship, mirror sex, Simon fucking your insecurities away, a lot of self projecting, a lot of pet names, p in v you know the drill, unprotected sex, creampie, oral(f!recieving)

This is the first smut I write and English isn't my first language so please be kind :)

No beta we die like the respect I hold for myself

It was a quiet morning, you had been lounging on the couch reading a book a friend recommended to you months ago and you just got around to actually give it a go, when the sound of  the doorbell startled you. You quickly got up from the couch putting your slippers on and went to open the front door, retrieving a package from the hands of the delivery man.

You were slightly confused, the package was clearly addressed to your name but you couldn't remember ordering anything. Curious you settled the package on the kitchen counter and made quick work of the tape with some scissors.

Inside of the cardboard box was another smaller box, decorated with a pretty flower motif and the name of a brand that was not familiar to you. Opening it and unraveling the various level of tissue paper you found your face heating up once realising the content of it.

It was a lingerie set, and a pretty expensive looking one at the sight of it.

It was a blush pink lace babydoll with matching lace panties and matching fishnet stockings with lace trims.

You quickly dropped the fabric trying to regain some composure and made a beeline for the door leading to the garage where your  boyfriend was busying himself working on his bike.

Simon didn't hear you coming in, too busy on his work and distracted by the music blasting from his phone or at least you thought so.

You see Simon knew exactly what package was going to be delivered that day and since the doorbell rang he was expecting for you to get to him.

"Si" you called out from the doorway, face flushed and voice uncertain.

He turned around, teasing smirk on his face, dark eyes meeting your gaze.

"Hey love, something's wrong?" he asked turning the music off and going to the sink and heading to the utility sink to clean his hands from the motor oil that was adorning the hands that you loved so much.

"Did you ehm-" you faltered " would you happen to know who exactly ordered a lingerie set to my name?" You ended crossing your arms under your breasts, looking at your feet.

His smirk turned into a full on smile while he strode towards you, his tattooed arm reaching out to hold on your plump hip, bringing you closer to him while the other hand reached for your cheek, caressing it tenderly before grabbing your chin and bringing your eyes to meet.

"Oh that?" he said then, head lowering to kiss just below your ear " I thought I would spoil my little princess for once"

No matter how many times he would use terms of endearment your heart would still flatter like it was the first time.

"Don't you think it's a bit too much?"

His gaze from playful quickly turned serious as he rose from the crook of your neck to look back into your eyes.

"What do you mean sweets?" He asked as you tried to look away "look at me"

"I mean" you pause swallowing, eyes quickly becoming lucid "Would something like that even suit me?"

"Again, what do you mean with that?" He asked again, gaze never leaving yours.

It took you a moment to get the words out, with a little tear

"I don't think something like that would suit me. I would look ridiculous with all THIS spilling out" you finally responded, indicating your thick thighs and soft stomach with your hands.

"(Y/N)" Simon's tone was serious as he leaned in to kiss your tear strained cheeks "I wish you could see yourself with my eyes"

His arms suddenly reached down under your ass and you quickly sneaked yours around his neck as you got what he was doing. He quickly picked you up, eliciting a surprised sound to leave your lips.

No matter your weight, in his arms you felt light as a feather as he walked with you in your arms, no signs of struggle. He left the doorway before pushing your back against the wall of the hallway that led to the kitchen. His lips met yours in a slow but fiery kiss. Your hands found themselves in his hair pulling, eliciting a little moan from him. He then pulled just enough to be able to speak, lips still basically on yours

"I'll kiss every insecurity out of your body or die trying"

He then secured his arms around you once again and began walking towards your bedroom and unceremoniously trowing you on your king size bed

"Wait for me" he then dashed out of the room.

You didn't have to wait long for him to come back with the lingerie box in his hands, placing it on the nightstand before climbing on top of you.

He kissed your forehead and started leaving a trail of kisses from reddened cheeks down to your throat.

"You are so perfect darling" his lips settled on your pulse point, eliciting a moan to leave your kiss swollen lips.

His hands roaming the curves of your body before making their way under your shirt stilling for a second, waiting for your permission to go on.

"Please" you let out of your shaky lips.

He didn't waste a second before removing your oversized t-shirt, revealing your bare chest, before pulling back and take in the sight of you.

"Look at you" he cooed, pupils blown wide while he licked his lips as if he was about to devour the most delicious meal.

Having him look at you with so much desire and want had your blood rushing south.

He started trailing kisses from your neck to your chest, your breath quickening.

His mouth immediately attached to one of your nipple, tongue playing with the heartened peak, a hand sneaking to your other breast playing with the left out nub, twisting and pulling in the way he knew was going to make you moan the hardest.

"Such perfect tits" he commented, deciding to abandon the peak to leave hard kisses all around your breasts, that were most definitely going to leave hickeys.

You arched your back, hands reaching out to his shoulders, grabbing and pulling at his black t-shirt.

"Si, 's not fair. I wanna touch you too" you mumbled between moans before his hands left your breast to capture yours in his, pinning them at your sides.

Mouth leaving your chest to look in your eyes once again.

" Nah ah sweetheart, this is about you"

He moved south, letting go of your hands with a look that let you intend that you better keep your hands for yourself. Simon started kissing your abdomen, hands kneeding at the flesh at your sides before settling on the waistband of your shorts.

"Can I?" He asked eyes locking into yours, before tugging your shorts and panties down in one move after you gave an enthusiastic nod.

"Such strong and beautiful legs" he started praising leaving kisses and small bites to your thigh, gaze still fixed into yours.

"You know I can't get enough of you, right? You-" he took a moment to raise from his position to place a sloppy kiss to your mouth"-are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Do you believe me?"

Your insecurities were screaming in the back of your head but you couldn't let them win, not when he looked at you like this, with so much love and desire. You believed him, it was impossible not to.

"I do"

A huge smile made his way to his face, eyes squeezing into small crescents as he got up from the bad. A whine of protest rising from your throat.

He took your hands and led you to your feet, before reaching for the box.

"Will you let me?" He asked, fabric in his hands.

"Yes"

"Hands up darling " you did as he said, fabric gliding over your arms. He caressed you while positioning the babydoll correctly over your figure, kissing you're shoulder right next to the strap before going on his knee. He made you step into the matching lace panties of the set, slowly dragging the piece up your legs before fitting it to your bottom.

He looked up at you while lifting one of your legs up to slip on the matching stockings. It all felt so heartworming, the way he treated your body like a precious thing, how he touched you like he was afraid to break you but his moves still confident like always, he knew what he was doing to you.

Once he had finished dressing you he rose up and you didn't waste a second before throwing yourself at him, passionately kissing him.

He left out a low chuckle before sliding his hands to your hips to softly push you around. You complied but let out another whine at not being able to kiss him how much you wanted.

You now where facing your full length mirror, hammered to the wall of the bedroom.

A rush of blood run to your cheeks, you weren't used to wear this type of things but you had to admit that it didn't look half bad.

"What do you think?" Simon asked, back pressed into yours, moving your hair away from your shoulder to kiss your exposed skin.

"I actually like it" you replied, letting one of your hand run on the fabric while the other reached for Simon's hand on your hip.

"Good" he whispered in your ear before starting to let a trail of kisses down your jawline and to your neck "because I intend to fuck you in it"

You let out a small yelp at the sudden attack on your neck, before Simon took your hands in his and positioned them on either sides of the mirro before taking your hips and moving them backwards so that your body was now in a 90 degree angle.

"Si~" you whined looking at his reflection in the mirror after he left a light spank on your butt "I want you"

He chuckled before stepping back to strip out of his clothes, his hard on slipping free from his boxers already covered in precum.

"Who am I to keep the most beautiful girl in the world waiting?" He knelt once again to the ground "But I need to prep you first"

He didn't bother taking off the panties you just put on and that were already soaked, he just pulled them aside before diving face first into your dripping sex.

As he licked up you slit and one of his hand slipped to your from to start circling your clit, you couldn't help the loud sounds you were making or the shaking of your legs.

His other hand reached your needy hole, spreading your folds with two fingers before letting one of them slip in.

Then one finger became two and then three and you were coming so close to your release.

Until Simon pulled out, sticking the slick fingers into his mouth and releasing a guttural sound at the taste.

"Simon" you nearly screamed " I was so close" a couple tears of frustration leaving your eyes.

"I know baby but I want you to come on my cook alright?"

He wasted no time before pushing is hard member into your pussy, thrusting so hard you almost smashed your face in the mirror with every push.

Upon realising that his tattooed arm sneaked to yourself and made you stand up a bit straighter as his hand gripped on your throat, not enough to stop you completely from breathing but restricting it enough in the way he knew made your head spin like crazy. His other hand steading your hip and keeping it still while he rocked into you.

"Look at yourself" he grunted "look at how beautiful you look while I fuck you"

It didn't take long for you to come after that, moaning his name, head falling back into his shoulder.

"Fuck, I'm close" his thrusts becoming sloppy "where do you want it?"

"Inside" you let out as best as you could with the small amount of air you had access to.

"I need you Simon" another breath "Need you so, so bad"

That was all it took for him to come, his hips stilling, painting your insides with his seed.

You both took a moment to breathe before he picked you up, still balls deeps into you, before dropping you both on the bed. He then pulled out, you hissing at the missing feeling of him inside you before turning around and nestling your head on his chest, sliding your arms around his waist. His hands bring you closer, one softly playing with your hair.

"You did so well for me, my beautiful, beautiful princess"

I hope you all enjoyed this, thank you all for the support and I hope I'll be able to post more after this week

Please feel free to point out any grammar error you find but please be kind, I'll cry

[maester-cressen]

One of the most heartbreaking things about sharing and reading Palestine evacuation/survival fundraisers is to read how expensive and how hard to get some of the simplest products are in Gaza right now. Sardines, some of the cheapest fishes to ever get here in Brazil, cost up $30 USD a kilo.

Mohammed @ahmed0khalil is only nineteen but has so much on his shoulder. He has to provide for his five siblings, the youngest being six year old Ahmed. He's around 6 years younger than me, but has so many challenges getting food, treatment for his dad's diabetes/his brother's leg wound and hygiene products.

On top of all of this, his campaign (shared by 90-ghost and number 77 on gazavetters) is currently stagnating. It's one of the most important sources of income for the family, as they need to keep sustaining themselves while the border does not open for evacuation. If you live in the UK, you can enter this raffle to contribute to this campaign for a chance to gain a pearl phone charm!

Please boost this and donate if possible! Thank you <3

Taglist:

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mothblossoms @aleciosun

@fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms

@schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada

@palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry

@annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @tortiefrancis

@flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt

@visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif

@kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish

@theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl

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[skyeslittlecorner]

Asmo's Selfie Reflections

First I'll have a little cry about the fact that there are no comics in the new cards. We've been robbed. Best part of the cards, along with the stories, is gone…

At least the prologue, with the presence of the kings and their right hands, was simply wonderful (Bael and his instant killing spree when he saw Beel <33)

I waited so long for Asmo that when he showed up it seemed unreal. He got everything. Most of my favorite physical features - checked. Glimmers of depth in behavior - checked. Being a dark and shady bitch - checked.

Plus, it's my personal thing, but seeing that nearly all my headcanons and assumptions for him matched reality made me squeal like a little girl.

Finally.

It doesn't surprise me at all that one of the the most powerful weapons of Hell is not so much physical, but mental force. Feelings that neither devils nor angels can resist. Love and desire have long been portrayed as some of the most powerful things, I have come across Greek motifs quite often, where the most powerful yet hidden gods were Eros or Aphrodite. As long as the spirit wants to fight, the body will follow, but without the spirit, what is left?

Especially since his order turns off your brain and tells you to follow, no matter how absurd it may be.

Asmo and his mind-fucks can help his own as well as his enemies. Especially since it seems that devils are quite traumatized after meeting him, and if they don't, they are locked up in Abbadon.

Although, it seems that he can control his abilities perfectly. He was able to blend in with the crowd and no one knew who he was.

Ahem I just have to stare at him every five seconds. My equivalent of breathing. And speaking of breathing…

*Grabs bottle of sanitizer and a mask* My dear, I know your (not)bathing routine and I still have pandemic supplies with me.

I love that the kings cover the entire spectrum of their specialties, especially the extremes. Satan is the avatar of anger, but he can keep his cool like no other when he needs to. Mammon is the avatar of greed, yet he is the most generous of demons. You get the idea. Same here, Asmo is both the lust and the love, the ultimate playboy and a loving husband.

And not only that, but complete lack of emotions and cold calculation too.

Oh yes, one of your sons is pretty famous, Vox Akuma as i heard. I really confused them when I saw Asmo for the first time-

Knowing how dark the rest of this is, I'm afraid of what you mean.

What follows is pure madness, and not really in a positive sense. Real madness and exhaustion. I had high hopes that he would take away any senses and twist in every direction, but he does it in such a beautiful way. And what's better, he loses himself too.

I only remember Satan, who at the end of Ch1 gave in to his anger so much that he almost killed Sitri and Ppyong. Asmo seems similar to me, completely lost in lust - only for a long time, without Mammon to calm him down, and without any scruples or limiting his power. If that's the case, then the devils of Abbadon must be damn strong. Crazy, but strong.

It's hard for me to describe anything after that, because it's hard for me to put six days into just a few words??? Literally. I have no idea how to describe it. I've read it a good few (a dozen) times and my brain turns off and goes into fangirl mode instead.

He seems as sweet as he is cold… which intrigues me even more, because so far he gives me the impression of a third party. He is not with the angels, and he is with the rest of the demons because it pays off for him.

At least one thing doesn't change.

Everyone loves to piss off Satan <3

I know that was a very polite analysis. That's not how I planned it, but just, just want to shove my phone into each of your hands and tell you to read it yourself because it's indescribable 😭

I already love this guy, and if he wants to sacrifice me in some twisted way, I'll even pour oil on myself to make the flames smell nice. Am I crazy? Yes. Am I ashamed? Absolutely not. Abbadon, here I come.

[flowerandblood]

The Sin & The Penance

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, revenge motive, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night he could not sleep – he wriggled in bed, checking from time to time whether she had perhaps called him back or written anything. Although he had tried to reach her at least ten times she did not answer and he was afraid to write her a message.

What if she went to the police with this?

Maybe that's what he deserved, he thought after a while with regret, staring blankly at the bright screen of his phone, wondering if he should try again despite the late hour.

As much as he tried to find some logical justification for what he had done, he couldn't explain what had really driven him.

Admittedly, at first he was guided only by anger and spite, but then these emotions disappeared, replaced by a hot, dark desire that filled his loins, completely overshadowing his cool judgement.

Something about her brightness, her lightness, her joy, made him long to lean over her like the dark sky, like night over the stars, and cover her with his blackness, his emptiness, consuming and devouring her.

He had never experienced such a disturbing and overpowering sensation before and was horrified that he was prone to such thoughts and such actions.

He had completely lost his mind because of her.

She had asked him to let her go, so why didn't he do so?

Alys had always been eager for his aggressive, violent games, he knew that, and he felt no remorse about what he was doing to her or where, but this little girl was terrified, trembling all over with fear, and yet all he could think about was how desperately he needed to feel her.

Perhaps subconsciously her cheerfulness, her attitude attracted him.

Maybe after years of sadness and mourning he wanted to feel at last something more than grief.

He covered his eyes with his hand, sighing heavily at that thought, feeling a squeeze in his throat and heart.

He only fell into a restless sleep in the morning with his phone lying next to his face, and was awakened two hours later by his alarm clock anyway, which he switched off with displeasure, tired, sad and embarrassed by what he had done.

He couldn't look Daeron in the face as they ate breakfast together. His little brother looked up at him from over his bowl of his favourite cereal with milk – he knew he was about to start asking questions about her.

"When will Esmeralda come here to sew our costumes?" He asked finally, stirring the milk with his spoon, looking at the chocolate balls that floated on its surface.

He pressed his lips together, not knowing how to explain to him how much he had fucked up.

What he had done to her.

"I don't know if she'll even show up here again." He replied truthfully, Daeron gave him a quick, horrified look.

"She promised me. She promised me we'd sew them together and go to the ball." He muttered, his eyes filling with tears again.

He decided he wouldn't be so cruel as to let him believe it was her fault, though part of his mind opted for that.

"I know, but I hurt her and I'm afraid she won't forgive me." He said lowly, swallowing hard, fiddling with his coffee cup, not daring to look at him, his heart pounding like mad.

"What do you mean? Did you hit her?" He asked in disbelief, and he clenched his eyes, realising that in his childish mind the greatest harm a man could do to a woman was that he could slap her.

He was silent for a while, not sure how or if I should explain it to him, whether it would be too much.

"In a way. And I did something else, much worse. Against her pleas. I could go to jail for that." He muttered, covering his face with his hand, feeling that even though he hadn't eaten anything he felt sick to his stomach.

"Why did you do that? She's so kind. What did she do to you? Did you get angry with her because of me?" He mumbled through his tears. He felt a tightening in his throat at the thought that, like any child, he was trying to justify the adult in his head, deciding that after all he was smarter and more experienced than him, so his behaviour must have been because he, his little brother, had done something wrong.

"No. No, it didn't and doesn't have anything to do with you. This is our adult business, but she has the right to be very angry with me and not speak to me. However, I'm completely sure she doesn't blame you." He replied quickly, biting his lower lip.

It wasn't until he spoke it aloud that it occurred to him how pathetic, inappropriate and cruel what he had done was, how afraid she must have been of him.

Was she telling herself she liked it so she could somehow survive it? She decided to go along with it so she wouldn't suffer?

"Do you think I can call her?" He asked in a quivering voice, and he looked at him with his heart pounding fast, recognising in the back of his mind that it was an excellent thought, that she might want to at least talk to him.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll give you her number, but call her from your phone. She's not answering from me."

He stared feeling the cold sweat on his back at his brother's reflection in the mirror driving towards the centre, seeing as he pressed the numbers written on the piece of paper on the keypad of his phone and lifted it to his ear – he heard the quiet beep of a call waiting.

He shuddered as someone answered, trying to focus on the road, complete panic in his mind.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Hello? Hi, it's Daeron. Can you talk? No, he can't hear what you're saying, we're just driving to the centre." He muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling a constriction in his chest from which he found it hard to breathe, trying to erase from his mind the image of him slamming into her again and again with the brutal, sharp thrusts of his hips.

"He told me that he had done you wrong and that he had hurt you very badly. I'm very sorry he did that. I just wanted to ask when we're going to sew our costumes." He mumbled out quickly. He felt his eyebrows arch in shame and covered his mouth with his free hand, resting his elbow against his car door, looking ahead in disbelief.

How could he do this to her?

For a moment Daeron listened to what she was saying on the phone with concentration and he was dying inside, afraid that she would explain to him with details of what he had done to her. After a moment he nodded as if he understood what she meant, he saw his face lighten a little.

"Okay. Okay, I'll ask my brother if he agrees to it. Bye bye." He said softly and hung up, sighing heavily.

"And?" He asked looking at him in the mirror, stopping in the car park, feeling like he was about to go crazy. His brother looked down at his fingers.

"Esmeralda said that after your argument she can no longer come to our house, but that I can come to her at the University. She said that the building is modern and wheelchair accessible, there are special toilets, lifts and everything needed. We could do my homework in her room in the dormitory and then walk around the campus, sewing and painting." He said uncertainly, glancing at him pleadingly. He swallowed loudly, feeling disappointed and at the same time understanding of her decision and grunted softly, turning off the engine.

"Would you like that?" He asked him calmly, and his brother nodded quickly.

"Then so be it."

Despite his requests, Daeron refused to tell him which of the boys had called him Quasimodo.

He said that it didn't matter now.

He thought with regret that his younger brother had more maturity and calmness in himself than he did.

Sitting at work he was all nerves, he had not received any notification that anyone had filed a police report on him, so for some reason, perhaps out of fear, she had not done so.

He felt both relieved and ashamed at the same time, unable to look at himself, thinking that he was not only disgusting on the outside but also on the inside.

When Alys suggested that they go to the toilet for a while he simply agreed, feeling that he needed to lash out, to expel the grief, shame and desperation that seemed to fill his whole body.

He turned her body violently with her back to him, thinking with fatigue that he didn't want to look at her face. As he unzipped his trousers he tried to focus on what he saw in front of him, on her panties lowered halfway down her thighs, her entrance sticky with arousal. He closed his eyes and grasped his cock firmly in his hand, giving it a few aggressive, hard strokes.

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about her sweet moans, about how wonderful she smelled, about how tight she was, about her body convulsing in his embrace.

He got instantly hard, wasted no time and surprised his lover, who moaned with delight at feeling how direct and exceptionally violent he was this day, his thrusts full of desperation and aggression, his groans low and throaty.

Something was wrong – her insides were different, her buttocks were different, her scent was different, too intense, her moans too deep, too sensual, not as innocent and surprised as hers.

He pressed his lips together feeling he couldn't focus or get as much pleasure out of it as he would have liked.

"− shut the fuck up −" He growled speeding up but it was to no avail – when he opened his eyes he saw a completely different woman in front of him. He slowed down, swallowing loudly, feeling that nothing would come of it.

"− fucking bastard − ah, don't stop − what happened? − did I do something wrong? −" She asked as he slid out of her and fastened his zipper in a quick motion, furious, disappointed, humiliated, distraught that he wanted her, this little girl, her moans, her scent, her touch, her gaze, her tight, weeping cunt, being able to spend whole nights with his face sunk between her thighs, begging her forgiveness, muttering between the flicks of his tongue that he would make it all up to her.

"− no − I'm sorry, it's my fault −" He said lowly, not wanting to lash out at her. She grunted quietly, surprised, putting her lacy underwear and trousers back on over her hips, fastening them with a quick, nimble movement.

"− you seem stressed − something wrong? − do you want to talk? −" She asked softly, and he felt a kind of gratitude that she hadn't laughed at him or judged him, that she had acted as if nothing had happened.

He decided, however, that he didn't want to share his thoughts with her.

"− no − forgive me − have a nice day −" He said calmly, opening the cubicle door and left the restroom, moving down the corridor in front of him, clenching his eyelids, brushing his short, slicked-back hair with a quick movement.

What had happened between them, what he had done to her had left a mark on more than just her.

He felt as if he had woken up from a lethargy after five years, everything around him was sharper and brighter, painfully clear.

The next morning, according to the arrangements made between her and Daeron, he was to turn up in the car park outside the University from where she was to pick up his brother.

He dreaded this meeting, dreaded what he would see in her face, disgust, regret and bitterness, all the way to the place he felt like stopping and throwing up.

He felt a shudder and a loud pounding of his heart when they arrived at the agreed spot and he noticed her, standing between the cars dressed in a fitted strapless dress with daisies on it, her beautiful hair the scent of which he could still smell in his nostrils loose, trainers on her feet.

He stopped, swallowing hard, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out, glancing at her – she stood at a safe distance from them and looked away, playing with the fingers of her hands, thoughtful and sad.

What he saw hurt him even more than if she had been staring at him with hatred.

He walked around the car and took out Daeron's wheelchair to which he helped him move from the back seat – his little brother beamed at the sight of her and began to move the wheels himself heading towards her. He saw with regret that she smiled warmly when she saw him, genuine joy on her face.

"Hi. High five!" She said to him cockily and their hands hit each other in the air, even though he was standing a few steps away she didn't give him a single glance.

"So, shall we go?" She asked encouragingly, and Daeron nodded.

He wanted to ask if she was sure he would be safe here, if she would remember to take him to lunch, if she would watch out for him, but he didn't dare, shame took his speech away.

He decided it would be better if he kept quiet and led them away with his gaze, then got into his car and drove to work.

He spent all day thinking about her, sitting over the case files recalling again and again her appearance, her pleasant figure, her warm face that beamed all over at the sight of his younger brother.

Why did she have to be like this?

Why did she have to be what he craved, the personification of his deepest, darkest needs, a ripe peach that someone had placed in front of him on a platter while he was starving?

When he arrived after work to pick up Daeron they both stood in the distance, said their goodbyes, and she turned away without even bestowing a single glance on him. He got out of the car, intent on helping his brother into the back seat.

"And how was it?" He asked lowly, feeling sadness and emptiness, anxiety and a strange tightening in his stomach.

"Great! We studied together in her room and then she showed me around the whole campus. We even looked in the classroom where the students were painting portraits and she told me a bit about how it was done. Everyone was very friendly." He said quickly, clearly excited and pleased. He swallowed hard, sighing softly as he folded his wheelchair and threw it back into the boot.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked calmly, returning to the driver's seat, buckling his seatbelt and turning on the engine.

"Yes, we had lunch in the university canteen. I could choose whatever I wanted." He said with satisfaction, a wide smile on his face.

He felt like asking him if she had mentioned anything about him, if she had anything to convey to him, but realised that there was nothing she might want to tell him.

She was doing this to keep her word to Daeron.

For a few weeks it seemed to him that he had locked himself in some kind of circle, looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, days during which he would see her, albeit only from a distance, her figure bright and graceful.

He wondered with pain if she still had the bruises on her neck that his lips had left and swallowed loudly, feeling ashamed that his manhood reacted to that thought with a strong throbbing in his trousers.

He had suspected it before, but now he was absolutely sure.

He was fucking mad.

On the day the carnival ball was to be held, he was supposed to drive Daeron to the centre and pick him up after a few hours, but he decided that it wouldn't be worth going home for such a short time and he would just wait for them somewhere off to the side without bothering them.

As he pulled up in front of the building he swallowed heavily, seeing her from a distance, already dressed in her Esmeralda costume, her dark, loose hair tied with a violet scarf to form a headband, bells tied to her purple skirt, simple black ballerinas on her feet, round gold earrings in her ears, clanking bracelets on her wrists.

However, what drew his attention most was her white, buff long-sleeved shirt, tucked into the the sea-colored corset under her breasts that wonderfully emphasized her waist, it's sleeves lowered so that her shoulders were bare, it was slit down in the middle, showing the bare skin of her chest.

He swallowed loudly, looking away, feeling with horror that the very sight of it made him hard.

He grunted, helping Daeron out of the car and moved behind him, guessing that she wasn't going to help his brother dress after all, not wanting to invade his privacy.

"You really look like Esmeralda! So beautiful!" Exclaimed his younger brother, and she turned gracefully raising her hands with a clink of her bells and bracelets, showing off her costume in all its glory.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Where's my costume?!" He asked excitedly, and she picked up the large paper bag that stood next to her feet and smiled.

"Here. Let's go." She said lightly without looking at him, Daeron immediately pushed the wheels of his wheelchair and headed after her.

He moved behind them, feeling like an intruder, looking everywhere but at her, trying not to think about the sight of her partially exposed back.

She explained to him quickly what needed to be put on first and how – he was impressed that what she had made really did look like golden armour, but when he took out the individual pieces they turned out to be surprisingly light.

He locked himself and Daeron in one of the toilet cubicles, helping him to change, his brother looking extremely pleased.

"Are you two reconciled?" He asked, clearly thinking that since she was speaking to him again she had forgiven him. He swallowed loudly, not knowing how to explain to him that what he had done could not simply be taken back.

"I don't think so. But don't think about it. Hm?" He asked softly and he lowered his gaze, disappointed.

The sight of himself in the armour gave him confidence – it appeared that the whole thing had been designed so that he could flex his arms, elbows and wrists, the parts fitted together.

He thought with a pained grin that she had really made an effort.

"You look great. What a real knight you are. Come, it's time for you to dance a little with your beautiful Esmeralda." He said calmly, opening the door for him. He wheeled out into the corridor with a smile, his Esmeralda catching her cheeks with a wide smile of delight.

"My knight. Promise to protect me from the evil thugs!" She called out theatrically and glared at him – he swallowed loudly, turning his face away in shame, his younger brother assuring her that he would not let anyone hurt her.

Too late, he thought.

For some reason, he felt tears under his eyelids, his throat squeezed so tight he had trouble breathing.

He watched as they moved ahead into a large gymnasium where the lights were slightly dim, a disco ball was spinning on the ceiling, Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper was playing in the background, children and their caretakers spinning around, dressed as various characters and creatures.

Although many of the costumes looked quite impressive, he couldn't take his eyes off her – as she danced she sang the lyrics of the song with theatrical devotion as if she knew them by heart, her hair, bracelets and earrings glistened in the light of the multi-coloured lights, the sweat on the bare skin of her exposed arms glittered like little crystals.

He looked at her leaning with his back against the wall with his hands folded in front of him, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, covering up what was happening in his trousers.

He looked around the room and noticed a group of boys looking at her and Daeron. He frowned, wondering if they were the ones calling his brother Quasimodo.

He felt some kind of satisfaction at the thought that they were watching his brother dance with a pretty girl.

He really deserved her.

Such a good kid.

He left after a while, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket – even though he hadn't smoked in months and was trying to quit, he felt that what was happening was too much for him.

His hands trembled as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his lighter, taking a loud drag, closing his eyes, clenching his fingers on the base of his nose.

There was only chaos in his head.

"We need to talk." He heard her soft, trembling voice and turned around immediately, taking a few steps away, for some reason terrified by her sudden proximity.

He stared at her with his lips slightly parted, his body froze still, his heart pounding like mad, his cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.

God, she was pregnant.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I can no longer take care of Daeron. I just wanted to keep my promise and go to the ball with him. I think he's had enough disappointments in his life and I didn't want to provide him with any more." She said shivering all over, looking everywhere but at him – he felt like he was about to vomit from terror and grief.

What?

"But…if I'm the problem, we can arrange it so that I bring him in a while early and you pick him up from under the main entrance. I'll pay you more." He muttered, completely surprised by her words, not knowing what to say, not wanting to imagine how his little brother would react.

She shook her head quickly at his words, fiddling with the bracelets on her wrists in a nervous gesture.

"I can't. He reminds me of you. You two are similar in appearance." She mumbled and burst out crying, drawing in air loudly, covering her face with her hand in an attempt to calm herself. He looked at her in disbelief, feeling his voice get stuck in his throat.

"I haven't told anyone about what you did to me, because in his eyes you are his authority. I don't want to put him through unnecessary suffering, but I expect you to come up with something and find some convincing explanation as to why I can't continue to take care of him, Mr Prosecutor." She muttered regretfully wiping her cheeks swollen from tears, struggling to catch her breath, her plump lips parted, her eyebrows arched in despair.

He didn't know when he fell to his knees in front of her, when he clasped his hands around her waist, dropping his cigarette to the ground – he pressed his face to her womb, breathing loudly, feeling like he was going through some kind of panic, his lungs compressed, tears streaming down his face one after another, everything around him seemed to spin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − please, please, forgive me −" He mumbled hysterically what he had wanted to say to her for weeks – he heard her gasp loudly in shock, raising her hands in a gesture of helplessness, felt her place them on his shoulders trying to gently push him away, her stomach trembled under his face in sobs.

"− l-let me go − please, get up −" She whimpered pleadingly, but he shook his head – he thought he couldn't do it, he couldn't let her go.

"− I need you − even if for the rest of my life I will only look at you from afar −" He exhaled helplessly, sinking his nose into the material of her soft skirt, feeling her wonderful scent fill his lungs again, the warmth of her body that enveloped his face.

He didn't care that the people around them were looking at them like they were crazy, didn't care that perhaps they knew who he was.

"− I can't − I've tried − I've forgiven you, but I can't forget − you robbed me of my dignity −" She said in a raspy, broken voice – he felt himself whooping with his own tears, clasping his fingers at her back, his helpless mumbling ripped from his throat as if without the participation of his free will.

"− do what you want with me − fucking destroy me −"

"Aemond? What's going on?" He heard his brother's frightened voice and immediately rose from his knees, letting her go, both of them wiping their faces quickly, her cheeks pale and at the same time red from tears.

"We needed to talk. I'll be right back." She said quickly, forcing herself to smile – Daeron could sense the tension between them though, his lips tightened, his gaze wandering from him to her.

"Have you…reconciled yet? Has my brother apologised to you?" He asked uncertainly and she nodded and laughed lightly, something in her response made him clench his eyelids and swallow loudly – he covered his face with his hand, feeling that for some reason he couldn't stop crying.

You robbed me of my dignity.

"− y-yes − yes, we've already explained everything to each other, we simply got a little emotional − come on, let's go back inside −" She said softly and stroked his head – he smiled at her and glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?" He asked, but he shook his head, choking out that he would wait for them in the car.

He locked himself inside in the driver's seat and put his forehead on the steering wheel, feeling an overpowering emptiness and this awful, terrifying chill, as if someone had gouged out his insides with a spoon like the flesh of a fruit, leaving only a mere shell.

He thought that he had died five years ago, on the day of that accident.

He only existed so that Daeron could live on.

He shuddered, as if awakened from a deep, restless slumber, hearing a knock on the window on his side – he glanced there and saw Daeron waving at him and his Esmeralda, looking at him uncertainly, terrified of his condition, dark night all around them.

He got out of the car, massaging his forehead, feeling a terrible headache, not being sure for a moment where he actually was or what time it was – in an automatic reflex he opened the back door and helped Daeron get in, he could smell her scent beside him, her gaze fixed on him.

"Are you sure you should drive?" She asked hesitantly, and he swallowed loudly, thinking that since the day of that accident he had never gotten into a car that someone else was driving.

"Yes. Shall I drive you back?" He asked lowly, not looking at her, folding Daeron's small wheelchair.

"No need, thank you, I'll get an Uber." She muttered, his younger brother furrowed his brow, looking at her worriedly.

"We'll drive you back. It's late, you shouldn't be going home alone." He insisted.

She sighed quietly and nodded, walking around the car, sitting down next to Daeron in the back seat.

He got behind the wheel and started the engine, involuntarily glancing at her in the mirror – their gazes met, her eyes sad and tired, full of a regret she had every right to feel.

He drove ahead, trying to wake up and focus on the road, looking at the lights of the cars passing him and thought that maybe if he had killed them it would have been better for all of them.

He grunted loudly, tilting his head back, leaning against the backrest, recognising that he had completely lost his mind, that he was sinking into depression and hysteria, that he had reached the very bottom.

It seemed to him that she sensed that something was happening to him – he was catching her on the fact that she was glancing at him uncertainly, answering something to Daeron who was chatting her up, talking about his friends' costumes. She was just nodding, pretending to listen to him, her hands playing with the material of her skirt in a nervous gesture.

God, how he longed for her to drive with him to their house, to go with him to his bedroom, so that he could kneel before her and whisper how sorry he was, how he wished he could make it all right, to slide with his hands the material of her shirt and her skirt, so that his lips could kiss her whole beautiful, warm body with devotion and adoration, her feet, her calves, her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her face, her….

"WATCH OUT!" He heard her scream of terror and pressed the brake suddenly, at the last moment stopping in front of a crossroads where he should have given way to those driving on his right and left – a man almost rammed into them and started honking at them, gesticulating aggressively, opening his window and shouting, asking what the fuck he was doing.

He looked quickly in the mirror, feeling as if he was deaf, his brother was crying loudly, snuggled into her, shaking with fear, her eyes wide, staring at him in horror.

"… are you all right?" He asked dully, feeling like his head was spinning – he saw her nod quickly, and then suddenly he went dark in front of his eyes, his head dropped limply and hit something hard.

He was awakened by someone's conversation. He felt someone touching him, something pleasantly warm enveloped him – his body was lying on something soft and comfortable, he thought he was lying on the sofa in his house.

"− overwork, dehydration, stress, trauma − anything could have caused this, ma'am − when can his sister come? −" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"− his younger brother called her, but she only managed to buy a plane ticket for tomorrow −" He heard her soft, warm voice – he shuddered and opened his eyes with difficulty, wanting to see her, to make sure nothing had happened to her.

He spotted her blurred silhouette in the warm light of the night lamp – she was sitting next to him on the sofa in his living room, still dressed in her Esmeralda costume.

"− can you stay here until she arrives? − are you a friend of the family? −" Asked the man who was apparently a paramedic, packing his suitcase and pulling off his latex gloves. She nodded.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm his little brother's carer −" She replied calmly, the man and she both glanced at him when they noticed he was awake.

"− how are you feeling, sir? − you had a panic attack and fainted − I have given you intravenous sedatives and strengthening medications, you should feel better soon −" The man with the black beard, surely a few years older than him, said to him.

He grunted quietly as he tried to raise himself up on his elbows, feeling everything around him swirl and lay back, giving up.

"− fuck − I'm dizzy −" He muttered, his stomach sore and clenched.

She rose from her seat as the doctors left Daeron's room, sighing heavily in relief when the woman explained that he had only been scared.

"Aemond!" He shouted when he saw that he was awake, riding up to him in his wheelchair, wiping his face red from tears.

"− I thought − I thought you had died − you weren't moving − w-we couldn't wake you up −" He mumbled, and he hugged his head to his chest, closing his eyes, stroking his soft hair with his large hand.

"− I'm sorry − I'm so sorry − I've been working too much lately and I fainted −" He lied, swallowing loudly, his brother nodding his head in understanding, cuddling into him like a teddy bear. He kissed his temple, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

He thought he needed to pull himself together.

"− Esmeralda said she would stay with us until Helaena arrives − now it's up to us to take care of you − lie here and don't worry about a thing −" He said in a voice hoarse from crying and patted his head – he felt a tightness in his throat at his words, his eyebrows arched in emotion, he smiled involuntarily, feeling his lower lip tremble.

"− then I'm in good hands −"

He watched wordlessly as the doctors and medics left their house, Daeron showing his Esmeralda where she could find clothes to change into – she appeared a few minutes later in his long black hoodie reaching halfway down her thighs, her legs wonderfully bare.

She bustled around the kitchen with Daeron, trying to make dinner – he couldn't get out of his awe at what a harmonious duo they were, his brother talking to her without shame or embarrassment.

If he had been wiser, if he had given her a chance then instead of humiliating her, maybe now they would be preparing dinner together.

He rose to sit down when she brought him tea and sandwiches, thanking her meekly. He sighed heavily feeling he wouldn't swallow anything and although the medications were starting to work, he felt like his head was going to burst.

She only returned to the living room after she had helped Daeron change into his pyjamas and put him to bed. She approached him hesitantly and sat down next to him on the couch, not looking at him but at the floor.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly, covering her knees with the material of his sweatshirt.

He looked at her, silent for a long moment.

"Exactly as I should after what I did." He replied finally, not knowing how else he was supposed to call what he was feeling.

She looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed in pain, regret and sadness in her gaze, but at the same time also some kind of concern.

He thought in disbelief that his fate mattered to her despite what he had done to her.

She lowered her gaze to her knees, fiddling with the material that covered her thighs in a nervous gesture.

"He needs you composed. Emotionally stable." She said sadly, her lips trembling.

He stared at her face unable to take his eyes off her, thinking only of how much he wanted to touch her, dreaming of her hugging him and locking him in her arms.

"I know." He said dryly, understanding exactly what she meant.

He couldn't be unpredictable, distracted while driving in the car, at work and on a daily basis.

Could not be distracted by her.

"Why did you do it? Then when I wanted to leave?" She finally asked in a voice quivering with grief, and looked at him, the depth of disappointment, sadness and emptiness in her bright eyes.

He licked his lower lip dry with stress and swallowed hard, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he stared straight into her face.

"Because I wanted to feel you. You were so sweet and soft. You were melting in my hands. I couldn't stop." He muttered at last, feeling with shame how pathetic that explanation was, thinking he was just a fucking pervert.

He drew in a loud breath as she slid the blanket off him and sat on top of him, pressing her buttocks against what was under his trousers – he wanted to grab her hips, feeling a rush of adrenaline from disbelief, but she grabbed his wrists.

"No. Don't touch me. If I feel your hands on my body I'll start screaming. I will tell Daeron everything you did to me and that you tried to do it a second time." She said with a seriousness from which his breath caught in his throat; he immediately placed his hands as before on either side of his body, watching in disbelief as her tiny fingers undid his button and zipper, his cock immediately swelled and began to pulsate, a loud shuddering sigh escaped his lips.

God, was she really going to do this?

As if in response to his thoughts, she spread the material of his trousers to the side and slid his boxers down, revealing his throbbing erection, twitching with lust, the head of it pink and glistening. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, swallowing loudly when he felt her grab it's base with a gentle flick of her hand and direct its thick tip between her warm thighs.

She had no underwear underneath.

She lowered herself onto him a tiny bit, barely sinking the fat head of his cock inside her, teasing him with the lewd click of her moisture – the sight of him stretching her slit and how wet she was turned him on so much that a low, helpless groan escaped his throat.

"− be quiet or I'll stop − do you want me to stop? − you didn't give me that choice, but I'm not that cruel −" She said with regret as he shook his head quickly, feeling how desperate he was to feel her again.

"− please −" He heard his own pathetic voice, not believing he was allowing it, but he no longer cared what she would do to him, he wanted to fuck her in any way she would let him.

He felt some relief at the thought of being humiliated, he wanted her to do to him what he did to her even though he knew she didn't have his awful nature.

"− what are you asking me to do? −" She whispered softly, almost tenderly, as if her superiority over him was giving her back what he had taken from her, her power over her own body, over what was happening to her.

"− use me −" He breathed out in a voice hoarse with emotion, saw that something had changed in her gaze, her lips parted in a shuddering breath.

He clasped his hands on the fabric of the couch and leaned his head back, gasping out loud as he felt her let him all the way inside her, his hard, fat cock throbbed aggressively with desire squeezed wonderfully by her hot, tight walls – he knew he was embarrassingly close to fulfilment and that she felt it too.

She put her hands on his shoulders, leaning over him, but not moving, waiting for his manhood to stop twitching inside her – her pretty, flushed face surrounded by her dark, shiny curls, her bright eyes fixed on him, her plump, swollen lips parted in a quickened breath.

"− use you? − mr. prosecutor wants to make me feel good? −" She asked in a whisper, her voice trembling with fear and arousal, as if she herself was shocked by what she was doing and by the fact that he was listening to her, by the way he was responding to her, by how much he desired her.

"− yes −" He mumbled out and closed his eyes with a low moan, feeling that with flick of her hips she slowly slid his cock out of her only to push it back in with a loud click of her wetness.

"− why? −" She exhaled, moving on top of him painfully slowly, her tight fleshy muscles giving him a wonderful squeeze each time she forced him back between her plushy folds, they both began to breathe louder and louder. He bent his legs at the knees, involuntarily tentatively responding to her thrusts with deep stabs of his hips.

"− God, don't you see that I crave you? −" He groaned low, with the last of his strong will restraining himself from tightening his hands on her buttocks and forcing her to move faster.

There was something wonderful about this slow agony, in the way she teased him, rubbing herself at the spot from which she felt the greatest pleasure, a sweet moan escaped her lips at his words.

"− are you always like this when you see me? − like you are now between my thighs? −" She mumbled in embarrassment, speeding up, their naked bodies began to slam against each other with splats of her moisture – he dared to buck into her harder, they both began to pant loudly, looking at each other with their mouths wide open, her lips puffy with desire.

"− of course − I jerk off every day thinking about you − fuck −" He muttered with difficulty, feeling the tickle and heat in his lower abdomen, his cock swelling with desire so much that he felt like it was about to explode if he didn't come inside her, their naked bodies slamming against each other.

He delighted in the sight of her throwing her head back at his words, her hot core pulsed hard around him, sucking him inside, her fingers clenched on the material of his sweatshirt, her buttocks slapping loudly against his thighs, soaking him all over.

"− touch me − touch me −" She cried out and he caught her quickly, one of his hands weaved into her hair and pressed her face against his, their lips joined in an aggressive, thirsty, sticky kiss, the fingers of his other hand clenched on the soft, firm skin of her ass.

They moaned loudly into each other's mouths as he began to pound into her like mad, almost not sliding out of her anymore – he embraced her and hugged her body to his, gripping her around the waist, her hands stroking his cheeks, his neck, his scar, his cock thrusting into her weeping folds twitching and throbbing like crazy.

"− fuck − fuck, baby, m gonna cum −" He babbled between the flicks of their lips, tongues and teeth. She gasped and came at his words with a loud mewl of surprise – he felt her moisture run down her thighs onto his lower abdomen, her muscles began to clench on him greedily, squeezing him wonderfully. He threw his head back and moaned in relief when he felt his warm seed spurt out inside her.

"− oh God − oh my fucking God −" He mumbled, experiencing such an intense orgasm for the first time in his life – for a moment he went dark before his eyes, he could see or hear nothing, there was only the wonderful hot pleasure spilling over his whole body, his hands clenched on her hot skin.

He hugged her close, snuggling her face into the hollow of his neck, covering their bodies with his blanket, not wanting Daeron to accidentally find them in this position, while having no intention of changing it.

He felt wonderful.

He stroked her soft hair placing tender, wet kisses on her temple, his other hand trailing reassuringly down her back, feeling that she was trembling all over with emotion, unsure as he was of what had really happened between them.

"− sleep here, little one − I won't touch you against your will − I promise −" He whispered, but her silence answered him – she breathed loudly along with him, lying still, his half-soft manhood still throbbing deep inside her.

"− I know −" She replied quietly after a moment, rising on her shoulders, sliding him out of her with a soft motion of her hips, his hands clasped helplessly on her thighs.

"− please, don't go −" He muttered, looking at her in horror, his heart pounding like mad.

Please, let me go.

"− I'm sorry −"

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Please, let me go.

She rose from the couch, trembling all over, covering her thighs with his sweatshirt, his semen mingled with her moisture ran down her naked skin.

"− I'll sleep in the free room next to Daeron's bedroom − I'll lock myself in − don't come to me and don't ever touch me again − we're even −" She said in a calm, quivering voice full of sorrow, sadness and emptiness.

He wanted to touch her fingers but she turned and left the living room, hiding her face in her hand as if she was crying again, disappearing down the corridor.

He lay looking dully at the spot where she had stood just a moment before, feeling a squeeze in his throat – with trembling hands he slipped his boxers back on and zipped up his trousers, feeling tears of disappointment running down the sides of his face onto the pillow under his head.

We're even.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

[mohammednafeth23]

A very important appeal, oh people of hearts, oh world, help us

We want to help Islam Nafeez to complete his university studies (nursing) in order to achieve his dream and build his future.

We want to help Islam Nafeez to complete his university studies (Nursing) to achieve his dream and build his future. We want to help Islam pay university fees and buy a mobile phone for distance learning due to the war conditions.

Islam was bombed in the war and was stopped from studying because of the war and was severely injured. Now he is fine and is asking you to donate so that he can study.

Help him get his life back to school. Nursing is the best for him 🙏

$1،2،3،4،5،6،7،8،9،10🙏 makes the difference in saving the lives of me and my family from this war 🍉⏳

@heartsnmagic @hospitalset @nursingistheshit @nursingproblems-blog @nursingmemes @nursingdiary @khakiest @khadidon

@sealsdaily ✅️Vetted by @gazavetters my number verified on the list is ( #201 )✅️

@treeen

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mourninglamby @aleciosun @fluoresensitivearchived @khizuo @lesstalkmoreillustration @transmutationist @schoolhater98 @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka-blog-blog @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi27 @sygold-blog @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososheart @palistani123-blog @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @

[victormcdicktor]

URGENT CAMPAIGN UPDATE, DO NOT SCROLL;

Mahmoud's family has been suffering under the siege on Ghazzah for a long time, but recently things have gotten even more dire.

They just escaped the bombing of the area they were staying, and the tent which they spent $900 on was completely destroyed. They are not only displaced with nowhere to go, but without a tent they have nowhere to sleep.

This is after, only a few days ago, a house they were seeking shelter in was bombed, seriously injuring much of the family including his 6 month old niece and his sister.

It is critical that you do absolutely everything in your power to help them. They have nowhere left to go. Donate if you can, share their campaign, and share Mahmoud's posts and updates at @mahmoudfamily1.

$1,412 CAD/$80,000, last donation 3 hours ago.

VETTED HERE (117)

Also, if you live in the UK, @a-shade-of-blue is holding a raffle to raise money for multiple campaigns including Mahmoud's. The prize is a beautiful phone strap adorned with freshwater pearls. More info here.

TAG LIST (DM me for removal)

@whisperingmedows @writerdoublein @e @rykerpuppy @renmemberme @t0w0bey @teddycuba @yogurtcake2000 @uchorusa @imp-panada @irunkefir @insufferablepilled @ichor-arrows @passion2lovvers @awesomepeoplehangingouttogether @dirkcapitationn @fatalbloomsinmoon @nabulsi @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @aria-ashryver @northgazaupdates2 @sar-soor @flower-tea-fairies @palestinegenocide @gazagfmboost @palestine-info-uncensored @heba-20 @aces-and-angels @fairycosmos @greenpinkstraw @ibtisams @radicalgraff @r4ms3yy @thestrugglerrr @shug888 @decolonize-the-everything @fototingobug @gaza-evacuation-funds @g3wgaw @greydrits @gainnecorpse @gasfuzbj @hamsterdads @himbo-noxx @heijegerkannibal @juliccardi @jvstcallmespade @kk3o2 @katylokk @keff-fr @literallyneurodivergentandaminor @lenaeeessshhh @la7ma-mafrooma @lutielutik @certified-dentist @cemetaryvampire @chemautopsy @cryptid-catnip @vetted-gaza-funds @vantisanjo @blu-berriez @neptunerings @neatleaf @meit1

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sygold @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp

(sorry for the randomness of the tags, I just used what popped up. If anyone has advice on how to make a good taglist please tell me)

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  steddieasitgoes! @steddieasitgoes has 27 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 23 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @steddieasitgoes:

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)

for a fortnight there, we were forever

honey i'm still free (take a chance on me)

You Were All Yellow

Eat Your Heart Out, Big Boy

"Her fics are SO FUN. I have enjoyed every single one that I've read IMMENSELY and am always talking about them to my friends after I've read them <3" -- anonymous

Below the cut, @steddieasitgoes answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Was I supposed to watch Eddie throw Steve his vest – the quintessential 80s romcom moment – and be totally normal about it? But in all honesty, there’s just something about them that compels me. When you dig deep into their personalities and arcs, they’re really two sides of the same coin and there’s so many ways for that to manifest in fic.hen

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I had to consult my ao3 bookmarks for this one and “getting together” tops my list, which really isn’t a traditional trope but I absolutely adore that mutual pining, idiots in love sort of thing that happens in those fics. Bonus points for slow burns!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Idiots in love for sure. Again, not a typical trope but I’m pretty sure it’s tagged on just about every fic I’ve written. It’s just so easy to slot them into those roles and banter their way into a love confession. The show is so life and death all the time, that I like letting them be goofy boys.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is like asking me to choose if I’m more of a Steve girl or an Eddie girl – impossible! But if I had to narrow it down to a top few, I’d say: the most remarkable thing by greatunironic, rounding third, sliding home by througheden, better by you, better than me by palmviolet, and is your light on? By Adure

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Outside of fic I’m a huge fan of enemies/rivals to lovers so I think that would be fun to explore between Steddie. There’s a hint of it in Signed, Sealed, Delivered but I think their hatred fizzles out really quickly and I definitely want to play with something where that takes longer to happen.

What is your writing process like?

It sort of depends on the project, but typically I get a kernel of an idea. Somethings that’s a setting, sometime it’s a bit of dialogue, sometimes it’s just ✨ vibes ✨ Then I’ll add it to my jumbled mess of a notes app on my phone and keep adding to it as I get ideas. When I wrote my first fic (Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore) I had no outline whatsoever. I just knew I had this one scene in mind and kept writing and building the world until I felt the moment made sense to happen. Nowadays, I’m a bit more organized when it comes to longer fics. I’ll usually do a bare bones outline with the major beats I want to hit outlined. This gives me enough structure to not feel lost, but also lets the characters breath one the page and make their own choices. Every fic, but the one I’m working on now for the steddie big bang, I’ve written chronologically which helps me because I can see the progression of the relationship dynamics in real time.  For one shots, it’s somewhat similar. I start with a kernel of an idea and a general plot in my head and just write and hope for the best lol

Do you have any writing quirks?

I think I use the same sentence structure a lot which drives me nuts, but I can’t always help it. Motif-wise I don’t think I have a unifying theme amongst all my fics, but I can almost guarantee that there will be some kind of third act break up. Happily ever afters are always going to be in my fics, but I like to make them work for it. Also they do a lot of gazing at each other and things in my fics. So much gazing!

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Generally, I like posting when something is completely finished. But I get antsy and have been known to start posting when the fic is 85% done and then procrastinate on writing the end until my deadline is looming.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m proud of all of them for different reasons, but I was really blown away with Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore. I hadn’t written fic in years and had never written a third-person mlm story before. At the time it was also the longest thing I had ever written. It definitely made me fall back in love with fictional prose writing and the steddie community as a whole.

How did you get the idea for Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)?

It was actually inspired by a ficlet I had written earlier that year and decided to use as inspiration for the full length fic. I was driving around and I kept seeing mail trucks everywhere and I remember getting an image of Steve in those short khaki shorts, carrying a satchel full of mail. And then I remember thinking “I wonder what Eddie would think” and the worms took over. I will say, expanding it into a full fic did take some time though because the ficlet was just vibes

When writing Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours), what was something you didn’t expect?

How long it ended up being lol I think it came in double what I had predicted it to be. I also didn’t expect to write it in the way I did. All my other fics are very traditional in that each chapter is a day or a couple days and it follows a clear timeline. With Signed I really went for a vignette, slice of life sort of storytelling which was a bit difficult initially but I think it paid off in the end.

What inspired honey i'm still free (take a chance on me)?

That one was written for a valentine’s discord server so it was based on the prompt steddiealltheway on Tumblr had submitted. It took me a minute to work out the plot, but I liked the idea of Robin getting to be the wingwoman for Steve.

What was your favorite part to write from for a fortnight there, we were forever?

There was a metaness to that one that was so fun to write. You have Eddie falling in love with Supernatural, a show that was known for making questionable decisions in the end and talking about how fanfic saves the day and that’s exactly what I’ve spent the last two years doing for him lol I love the idea of Eddie being a fandom kid like all of us, and dragging and unknowing Steve into it with him.

How do/did you feel writing Eat Your Heart Out, Big Boy?

At the time I think I just wanted to write something fun and silly because I was deep into Signed, Sealed, Delivered at the time and was feeling bad about not sharing anything. It was like a palette cleanser.

What was the most difficult part of writing You Were All Yellow?

Definitely deciding which yellow objects I was going to use and figuring out how to string them together in a clear narrative arc. It was a puzzle of sorts that took a lot of patience to figure out. It was also a bit reverse-engineered where the objects dictated what the story would be. I think it would have been easier if I had the story first and then found things that fit that narrative.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I struggle with writing poetically, so I was really proud of this line from Duck, Dodge, Don’t Fall In Love: “He feels like an astronomer falling in love with stars for the first time in the untouchable night sky. Because that’s what Steve is, right? A dazzling force that Eddie can steal glances at but never touch, never reach.” But also any and all smut scenes I’ve written. That was an incredible challenge at first and I literally wrote the first make out scene ever under the covers of my bed lol

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning to participate in this year’s Steddie Week with some (hopefully) short one shots. And then I have my big bang fic When The Buzzer Sounds that will come out later this year. Other than that we’ll see. My notes are overflowing with ideas it’s all about finding the time and the right one.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

As I write this I’m not sure who nominated me, but I want to say thank you to them! It’s so wild to me that people resonate with the silly stories my brain comes up with and I’ll never take that for granted. There’s so many creative steddie fic writers out there and I’m so happy to be one of them. We really blew up overnight and it’s been so fun watching everyone grow together. And I want to thank all the mods behind this blog for helping share writers hardwork!

Thank you to our author, @steddieasitgoes, and our anonymous nominator! See more of steddieasitgoes's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[mimcw]

love or be loved is glasshouse's mew's sixth mini album, released on july 9th. this album connects somewhat to her last release due to the love motifs.

my type conveys a strong and confident pursuit of love. mew is sure of her feelings, determined to win over her love interest and teach them how to fall in love. the lyrics suggest that love is simple and natural and can be learned and enjoyed without overthinking.

cat&mouse portrays the complexities of a passionate but unstable relationship. it delves into the frustration of mixed signals and emotional games, while also expressing a strong desire for genuine connection and closure.

 ♛┈・tracklist・・・!

01. my type 02. cat&mouse ft. GIRL FROM NOWHERE ( @yourlovedahlia ) 03. je t'aime 04. late night conversations ft. VERONIKA ( @iamvercnika ) 05. what do I call you

♛┈・era notes・・・!

♡ a few days before the release of the album, various murals and posters of hearts and stars appeared around south korea. ♡ this surprised fans as they first thought it was the company's way of announcing a new artist, they were delighted to find out that mew was coming back after almost half a year. ♡ three songs featured other artists, some of which people haven't heard yet. GIRL FROM NOWHERE, being one of them. ♡ the music video for mew's song, my type, utilised the 360° view, letting fans see further into the story of the song. ♡ the mini album included various accessories in it, some of them being, cat&mouse keychains, je t'aime phone charms and limited edition disposable heart shaped flip phone. ♡ another way that the album was promoted was by a small escape room themed after the songs. ♡ before the release of this album, fans have inquired the soloist why she hasn't been as active as the previous years. upon being asked this, mew admitted that she wanted to build up the budget for all the ideas she had in mind for her comeback. ♡ mew's promotions went on for about six weeks, earning her one or two wins.

♛┈・era styling・・・!

( top row style during MY TYPE bottom row during CAT&MOUSE promotions )

[liv4mj]

☆ - Hiding in plain sight ୨୧

[Modern] Spider-Man!Ellie × fem!reader ⚢܀˙

⚠︎ - tooth rotting fluff, LOSER ELLIE, cursing, adult themes, ! ! ─

Everything on Ellies body aches. Everyone's voice melts together in her mind, only focusing on you. The girl who sits two seats ahead of her in her Humanities class. Besides the constant sharp pains racing through her body, the only thing she can think of at this moment is you. The way you put a heart-shaped picture of ‘spider woman’ in your phone case ever since she started visiting you in her spare time. Or the way you started to wear more spider motifs. Not to mention the spider webs you draw all over anything and everything. Backpack straps? Covered. Your journals / notes? At least five of them. She loves every moment of it. She just wished you knew who she was. Talking to you as spider woman? No problem, talking to you as just Ellie is the issue. Anything fuzzy in her mind stops as the bell rings, and Ms. Servopoulos dismissed everyone, except her. “Ms. Williams, please stay behind for a moment.” All she can really do is sigh before looking up to see you looking at her with a sympathetic expression mouthing ‘goodluck’ before walking off. Trying to hide her flushed face, she walks over to the extremly agitated professor. “Ellie, you have missed three classes this week. Not to mention, your grades are slipping.” She sighs and rubs her forehead before continuing “Ellie you are brilliant. What is going on with you?” The only thing she can really do is stand there for a second before muttering out a half assed “sorry, I’ll get my grades up soon. Promise” Before A - lining out of that classroom. Being spiderwoman is a tough gig, physically and mentally.

Thirty minutes after the lesson, Ellie is suiting up for your daily window visit. Slipping her drawn on, old converse over her suit and grabbing a small box and shoving it into her backpack, making her way over to you. Webbing her way across the city to the balcony she's grown to love. Positioning herself upside down on the roof and doing her secret knock you guys established about a week ago. Her heart skips a beat as she sees you bolt up and run over to your window, opening it frantically, “There you are! I was getting worried you wouldn't show.” Your voice was filled with relife," she softly chuckled, tilting her head comically, “I wouldn’t miss this for the entire world.” You look down, flushed “Oh would you stop.” You whisper as you grab the bottom of her mask and pull it up slightly above her lip, exposing the tip of her nose. Your eyes scanning over her features as a smile creeps onto her face, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?” You put your finger over her lips as if you were shushing her “I was getting to that, doofus.” Grabbing onto her face, pressing your lips onto hers. The taste of her coconut chapstick coats your lips, as the feeling of her lips makes your head go all fuzzy. Pulling away and pulling her mask back down as she crawls through your window, attempting to be cool but ultimately failing as she slips on your backpack. Trying to ignore the fact you giggled at her demise, she hopped up and started rummaging in her bag for the box she picked up on her way out. You being yourself, you peek over “whatcha looking for?” you ask faintly. She simply replies “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, now close your eyes and hold out your hands.” You close your eyes before stating “If you put something freaky in my hand, i swear i will deck you in the face.” “Keep telling yourself that,” She whispers as she opens the box and lays out the necklace with a small little spider charm on the end across your hand. The feeling of cold the chain basically made your eyes dart open and look down at your hands in admiration. “Oh my god… this is beautiful, I love it, thank you thank you thank you” You throw your arms around her neck before turning around and handing her the necklace “Help me put it on! C’mon” “Yeah, yeah, okay.” Moving your hair out of the way and clasping the necklace shut.

Turning around all dramatic, showing off the necklace before you purred out “Thank you, Ellie, I love it.” Standing there in shock, heat coating her face “How.. how do you know?” You giggle and point down at her shoes, your converse give you away, dork. “..oh” she muttered under her breath, looking down at her signature converse, before feeling the warmth of your hand at the bottom of her mask, “Can i?” You whisper. Responding with a slow nod, you take her mask off, her auburn hair falling across her face, and her cheeks glowing a bright red. “You’re adorable y’know that?” She looks away and scoffs “Since when were you the flirty one?” Grabbing her face again, leaning into her a nudge, “It's a two way streak spider-woman” you whisper before kissing her freckled face, fully unmasked for the first and definitely not that last time.

[wyfy-meltdown]

I did it again!!! Meet my second PMMM OC: Shinoha Murofushi!

More info below the cut *⁠.⁠✧

Basic Info:

Name: Shinoha Murofushi

Age: 16

Height: 5'6

Wish: "'My ultimate dream could come true'... If that's really the case then, I want to get revenge on those bastards!"

Weapon: Dual Swords

Power: The ability to release attacks used against her back at an enemy*

Soul Gem: Bellflower (*also somewhat looks like a skull) located below the chest, with scales on the bottom of the soul gem

Witch: Nemesis

*She can only absorb attacks that have hit her, and will take damage from anything that hits her. She can store damage for as long as she wants, but when she releases it, every attack she's stores gets released at once. However the attack affected her is how it will affect the target she releases on: Ex. Someone punches her causing a bloody nose, Shinoha releases her damage, and the puncher gains a bloody nose and the pain that caused the bloody nose. Ex2. Someone breaks her arm with a baseball bat, Shinoha releases her damage, and the batter gains a broken arm and the pain of a baseball bat to the arm.

Personality:

She's incredibly standoffish and tries her best to be alone at all times. She rarely leaves her room, and hates going to school. She's quick to judge and mistrust others, and it's incredibly hard for her to lower her guard. She's learned to cut her own hair (due to avoiding leaving the house) and while she has exceptional talent doing so, she has no interest in being a hairdresser. She rarely sleeps, and is always tired. She maintains a perfect poker face, but struggles with violent thoughts and self-loathing: becoming a magical girl has given her an outlet for her struggles, although she gets very brutal in fights. Her favorite food is seafood, and she can't stand the taste of sweet things. Despite her dark thoughts, she's very meek, and seldom voices her opinions and feelings. If she's got a problem with someone, they likely don't know until it's too late. Her downbeat nature means she doesn't have many hobbies; she spends most of her time on her phone, and is a closet idol fanatic.

Design Breakdown:

This design was a challenge and a pain. I struggled A LOT to incorporate her "revenge" wish and find a good theming for it, but all I could really work with was "greek goddess Nemesis" (justice/law/punishment theme). I managed to fit in some wing-like shapes (skirt, swords) but I don't know if it's obvious enough(?) Her hair-circle is meant to look like a halo (angel of punishment theme) but I'm not sure if it just looks like a random circle or an actual halo. I included bellflower motifs because... I have no real reason; nice concept, but I can't draw bellflowers well. Her colour palette was the most difficult part (theming second) because no colours fit her??? I don't know how to describe it, but no colours worked right with her personality (not even black or white). I settled on green with grey hair, but it'll probably change if I ever draw her again. I fear her design is a little to "fantasy" not enough "magical girl" (but that might just be my "ruffles/pink" brainrot). I tried really hard to give her a should cloak, then a caplet, and finally I gave up and just went with the sleeves.

Overall: she was a struggle, and I don't think I got across my theming and motifs well. I might try to redesign her in the future, but for now I'm content with this: I think it's good for my current skill level and her current concept.

Trivia:

She didn't believe in magical girls at all, but after much pestering convincing from Komoe, she unseriously made a wish before becoming a magical girl

Her damage absorbing ability causes her to intentionally endanger herself in fights against witches (possible concept)

Originally her plan was to kill her bullies, but she instead opted to use her power to curse them

She would've liked to be the brooding loner type of magical girl, but Komoe had other plans

She has a mini fridge in her room and it's her favorite thing in the world

It's always dark in her room, so she can see well in the dark (potential plot point later[?])

She's a big fan of spy, action, and mystery movies; and has some form of online review blog

She has a mannequin in her room she vents her frustrations and feelings to (she strongly dislikes showing emotions in public and/or around others)

As much as she's tried to fight it, Komoe often comes to her house with groceries, grief seeds, gifts, and other things to give to Shinoha

Although she was initially very unhappy about becoming a magical girl (she kinda became a magical girl on accident), she's slowly learning to embrace her magical girl persona (and becoming more deranged in the process!)

She named her magical girl swords after her two favorite idols, and has begun a personal sword collection (a goal Komoe helped her set was to eventually forge a sword herself)

She once drank a small bottle of vanilla extract without batting an eye (it was dark, she was tired and didn't feel like reading)

She punts around Inkyuu like a ball

[zayray030]

Since I recently participated in a wedding, say congrats to my relative even though they probably won't know I posted abt it

And because the first notification I got releasing my phone from airplane mode was from you

Here is Ace Trappola in a wedding dress.

Anyways remember that time travel ask I sent in earlier, what if Future Ace was sent to the past during his wedding

Or while he was modeling a wedding dress

Or if there was a school festival like the ones in anime, specifically when the classes present a fashion show, and Ace for no particular reason was chosen to show off a wedding dress, by the way, he needs a partner/groom to walk beside him and there can only be one other person

I wish I added more of a heart motif but oh well

AHHH HE'S FUCKING GORGEOUS??!??! YOU ARE INCREDIBLE!!! MARRY ME RIGHT NOW!!

Also congrats to your relative! I hope they have a lesser and happy marriage 💗💗

Now onto the ask......OH MY FUVKING GOD!! I actually have a story idea for that to do with percabeth but with Ace.....ooooh girl

I can just imagine him taking a moment to observe his surroundings, watching all his younger classmates, looking at his younger groom, before calmly throwing his bouquet on the floor and fist fighting Crowley in his dress lmao

After that He's simply trying to sit still so his dress doesn't get damaged (strangely enough it still looked pristine even when he was pummelling Crowley into the floor no one stepped into help btw. They all felt grateful and satisfied)

First, the firsties approach him and start talking and they're just so enamoured by how beautiful he is. Younger Ace is just as shocked but he has to admit he looks great in a wedding dress. Now his one problem is that he marries someone from NRC

When Ace's future groom approaches, Ace doesn't give any indication. Or at the very least not anything obvious. But it's clear in the way Ace relaxes around him more, eyes twinkle, smile more genuine.

The other version where he's not actually getting marries and it's just from a photo shoot makes the situation even funnier because best believe that the others will be fighting over an opportunity to wife Ace up

SCHOOL PHOTO SHOOT!! OH u can imagine Crowley doing it for the money, Vil doing it because it could help his image and Ace participating because he saw the reward money and he threw that dress on so casually one would think he regularly wore them lmao

[peanutkix]

Walpurgisnacht Rising thoughts under the readmore. Just observations and mild theory-crafting, I just needed to spit my thoughts out lol. Feel free to reply with your own thoughts because I want to discuss so badly.

So I’m thinking that Homura’s answering the phone and saying “Do you acknowledge the risks? Can you fight the curses of this world?” (paraphrasing, I closed the stream) means she’s directly taken over Kyuubey’s job of recruiting magical girls.

The childish voices on the phone(? Seems like it since there’s a hang up sound later) make me think of the Clara Dolls, especially since they say “Akuma-sama”. Makes sense that her subordinates would call her that.

The mystery magical girl’s outfit has very similar motifs to Homura’s. It’s also surprisingly Mami-like to me.

Madoka jumping off the building with shoes off, obviously invokes the image of suicide. My three theories are 1) start of a new transformation sequence for Madoka, 2) a dream or vision of some kind Homura has, or 3) Madoka got emotionally possessed (like witches used to do with their kiss) and drawn to suicide.

Sayaka’s face being bandaged calls to mind her being muzzled in the old concept movie trailer. No idea how much of that film was preserved here, I imagine some ideas carried over.

On the tower at the end, we see multiple Homuras alongside the Clara Dolls. Not sure if this is symbolic or if she’s got some clones running around. There’s also two Homuras with different outfits on the key visual.

I’m many thoughts head full tonight.