#my hair is a lot thinner than it used to be

[plaid-n-converse]

I wanted to do a pre and post T comparison and there is definitely A Difference

[megah3rz]

why is hair care so complicated why can't i just have naturally amazing hair 😭😭

[tealfruit]

right before starting T vs. today (just over 14 months on T)

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.

! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.

! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.

! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.

! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.

! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."

You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.

! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."

His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.

"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 16/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: i absolutely adore your shadowpeach bio-parents au comics they flow really nicely from post to post, and i looove the balance between angst & fluff i feel as if with shadowpeach, its always either angst or fluff- no inbetween, but somehow you've found a really nice mixture of both thanks for singlehandedly keeping me in the LMK fandom haha

Thank you! Fluff and angst keep going around each other like a microwave ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like with mks monkey form does he have to deal with shedding during summer I think it would be funny if macaque and Mk got fluffier during winter. Wukong wouldn't complain about a fluffy macaque though probably like sleeping with the best plushy.

Oh man I think they do indeed haha. Pigsy would scold MK bc he keeps finding fur hair everywhere in the house

Anonimo ha chiesto: You seem like someone who knows a lot about the LMK fandom, so I must ask where does the idea of Princess Iron Fan and Macaque being sworn siblings come from? Like, is it from JTTW, and im just not aware of it, I'm still trying to learn as much as I can, and I need to actually read the book. The fact that people assume I know a lot about the fandom is so hilarious (not in a mocking way, I'm just very surprised) bc like- I watched the whole show in 1 day, speedwatched Overly sarcastic production recap of JTTW and read half of the book in a week. All of this in July. That's everything that I know from the fandom.

I think it's an headcanon. in JTTW Wukong, Macaque and DBK are all part of the brotherhood so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: First off I LOVE your comic but I have the animal autism and wanted to share some Monkey facts: monkeys don't sweat like humans do they mostly sweat on the palms and feet, areas they have no fur. For overheating monkeys mainly seek shade staying under trees , increase respiration (panting), seeking water sources. Also some species might shed for a thinner coat during summer. Sweating is an exclusively human thing and why humans have been so successful humans are persistent hunters. We would often follow herds for miles waiting for them to tire and overheat while sweating keeps us perfectly cool. Humans are also the only animal to blush. Lol Again no hate love the comic I love me some Flustered blushing gay monkeys. I just have the animal autism and wanted to info dump.

Thank you for the animal fact dump! Those were actually super interesting facts!

@draxeanlxia ha chiesto: Hey question that I have no idea if you already answered but how old is MK in your BIO Parents AU? I know people (usually) believe him to at least 18 due to China’s minimum driving age but others believe him to in his early 20s. Also Mac in your AU said was ‘grown ass man’ during the baby arc. So in your AU, how old is MK?

So. in the AU he's 21 y/o. Meaning that when he arrived to Pigsy door they saw him and went "yeah, he looks around 2/3" and from then they counted on. Buut there's also the thing that he looks a little younger than that age. I wont say anything else.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who your Favorite Lmk character??

mmmmmmm... MK bc he's monkey now. Before season 4 probably Macaque or Wukong. But I have a "thing" for characters discovering they are actually a different species and slowly gaining new/different body features bc of that, so when I saw him flickering at the end of s4 I flew to a different universe. Literally the whole reason this AU exist is because I would die for this trope

Anonimo ha chiesto: What inspired your Human Wukong & Mac designs? Mostly because my brain looks at Macaque and thinks “Cranky middle aged pirate” meanwhile Wukong’s is “That chill gay uncle” (this is based off of purely looks by the way)

Macaque is drama queen so of course he would wear a trenchvoat during fall. plus he's old inside and outside bc of all Wukong bullshit. Wukong is your friendly neighbour who lives in a sketchy house and survives on peach sodas and chips (oh wait that's just canon Wukong.)

ainnur ha chiesto: You know I like how Wukong in your comic just compare something hot with Laozi's furnace. Like with spicy food and time he help MK created the weapon. Mk: You know Wukong you mention Laozi's furnace a lot. Must really tough 49 days for you... Wukong:Yeah worst 49 years *eating peach* Mk: Can tell- wait- years..? Wukong: Yeah a day at heaven is like one year here or so..Do the math, bud *continue to eat the peach* Mk:.... what..? Wukong just casually and accidently recall his trauma because he thought it never effect him like his other trauma. Also the brotherhood have 49 years to help him but they didn't do anything. "Yeah because normally you would rush into my rescue"

Thank you for giving me this traumatic info I didn't know about. Now I will never look at Wukong the same (why did my boy have to suffer so much)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque: I think I'm in love with Wukong . . . Any thoughts. Chiyou: and prayers you're going to need them.

me too bitch, the fuck

@mirror-queen226 ha chiesto: I agree about the last ask you posted (about Wukong surely wearing a dress on a date), and I just couldn't help but say my own headcanon too (with a little bit of knowledge about the ancient times that Wukong was just a child on the jttw and lmk): I dunno if you agree but okay. Honestly, both Wukong and Mac/Mihou (like i usually call him) does not care about clothes, if they feel comfortable with them, be it for woman or man, they'll wear it, especially Wukong though, I feel like he'd act like a famous diva in a on a runway showcasing new high-class clothes from Victoria Secret, Channel, or something, whilst Mac is much more discreet but not too far from that too. And considering Wukong was wearing WOMAN clothes when he was in the brotherhood in the season 4 lmk flashback, it just made me believe in that headcanon even more :) Also, I am really loving your au, it's just so perfect the way you develop every character slow and patiently, keeping their personalities untouched, not changing but instead expanding and showing them a bit more, how they are really trying to improve (Wukong and Mihou in this case) and how satisfying it is to see. I always rush to see the new updates you post about the Biodads au every time i see too, and honestly, one of the 5 best au's ever, you draw so good too, it's adorable! That's all I wanted to say, have a nice day, drink water and take care of your health! 🥰🥰🥰

Yeah true! Like they are shapeshifter, they wouldn't care what species they are, even less the perceived gender norms

Anonimo ha chiesto: Little question, while the monkeys where at Chiyou's forge, shadowpeach where still sleeping together or not?

They were all sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor (but they all were close to each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Generally curious what you think would have happened if MK had not been woken up and the stone wasn't broken what do you think would have happen. would he had grown up on FFM?

Aww he probably would have been raised by Wukong. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: I have question! Does Rumble and Sabage have sentience in your stories? Like, do they have their own personalities like MK clones do? If yes, what do they think of WuKong and MK? Also, will we see more of them? Cause I'd love Mk to meet them when he wasn't stuck as a cub and not remember.

Yeah I think they have a littel bit of personalities. They like both MK and Wukong, but would also do prank on him.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think I won't say I'm in love from Hercules fits macaque very well

The little monkeys are the muse doing backup choir

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we see what a courtnapping room typically looks like?

Courtnapping rooms are made specifically for the courted one, so they are all different. Basically, the room should include everything the courted person would need to live comfortable and also a collection of things they like / to pass the time /love.

It must show that the person courtnapping them is able to provide, care and protect for them. And also knows what makes them happy.

So it can be a huge castle full of jewerly and elegant clothes/ornaments or just a cozy room with some chips and video games.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is LBD going to be a topic in your au again ?

maybe

@wolfasketch ha chiesto: We need MK interacting with his new found Auntie and Uncle please(we also new to see Red being flustered by MK while his parents are around and PIF being like "Ooohhhh")

We are VERY luky Red Son and MK didn't grew up together or we would have thier parents playing love-matching with them while they are toodlers

Anonimo ha chiesto: could we possibly get a traffic light trio and shadopeach grooming train at some point, i would love to see some bonding time between them all <3 and i would love to see mk grooming redsons hair since there's so much of it

Wait who would be the second person to be groomed? I assume RedSon hair are too hot to touch. (when he's flustered, at least)

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like how does Redsons hair/ fire work. Does it just feel warm to MK and Mei. Will it only burn/ hurt you if he doesn't trust you. Another note it must be nice having two fire demon friends during winter.

I think when he's relaxed, the hair is just- a little bit warm, then with his feelings and emotion it can go up to a bigillion degrees, so it's not harmful as long as he can control it.

[bug-slappy]

sharing my opinion here about serizawas design inconsistencies over time (spoilers for mp100 ending) i feel like in each new rendition of serizawa weve seen in official art ever since the start of S3 something feels off in a different way with every new merch release

lets start here ⬇ serizawa looks like,, himself. accurate to how hes drawn since his first anime appearance

⬇⬇⬇ and then slowly,,, things start to look off. his jawline is slowly getting slimmer, his eyes look wider (same with mobs too)

AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THESE. especially the one on the right my god. who is that

every new promo art that comes out just feels very careless. I think you could say so for all the characters (mobs giant eyes, reigens waist getting skinnier/pointier features. the PROMO art of dimple that was literally FULLY TRACED OFF OF A TEMU PIRATE HALLOWEEN COSTUME. they all look bad here)

it just feels a little depressing how little they seem to care anymore, like theyre just trying to pump out merch without bothering to use a character reference.

i notice the changes the most with serizawa. every promo art looks like theyre playing a game of telephone. each version of him is based on the last, instead of his initial design (shown below)

at the end of S2, when reigen cuts serizawas hair, he still looks like himself. they did a great job of showing "how serizawa would look underneath his moustache and big hair". In S3 it feels like they've lost that mentality completely. like he's no longer based off of his original design, but an entirely new reference of his salary man look. some comparisons between S3 vs S2 and OVA down below

I find that the line weight in S3 is much heavier and unfocused. but what bothers me most of all is that... Serizawa looks different in nearly every scene... as if they're undecided on what he should look like. the shape of his nose and jaw, his hair all change depending on the episode entirely.

The art style change for S3 was meant to be "more accurate to the manga", but I find that it had the opposite effect. especially how serizawas and ritsus eye shapes changed. ritsus large pupils and serizawas more almond shaped eyes were more reflective of their manga designs there are plenty of inconsistences in S1 and 2, but they're clearly done with purpose to reflect on ONEs art style (my beloved). I feel like the thinner lines allow more room for detail and extreme facial expressions that truly hold a candle to ONEs insane talent for capturing emotions.

these ^^^ compared to..

erm.. this.. ⬇

just felt very underwhelming... and serizawa certainly does mellow out once he starts working at S&S, but that doesn't mean that there's less opportunity for detailed expressions !!

the yokai fight scene was beautifully made i have no qualms.. but the amount of serizawa lore and dialogue in the manga that got cut from the anime just made him look like a cardboard cut out standing behind everyone. lots of funny and interesting moments cut to make room for the moefication of serizawa katsuya..

I feel like there's a lot of important moments that were cut, (reigen "i hope i can become a partner like that" arataka, serizawa "ive had a similar experience myself" katsuya )

or sad, intense scenes that were made lighthearted (the body improvement club trying to help mob, mob and ??? dialogue being cut, reigen removing his shoes in the final arc made to be meant for better grip rather than... his passively suicidal tendencies )

i think the people at bones are very talented dont get me wrong, i just felt like S3 could have been adapted better. this keeps me up at night its like 1am :) anywhosies thank you for listening to my ted talk i love you

[vrystalius]

Hello! May I request the hashira reaction to a child reader (6-7year) who's basically a yoriichi reincarnation? Like the hashira were struggling against an uppermoon, but reader interferred at a crucial moment and cut them down effortlessly with the hashira's own sword :] here comes the dilemma of how to proceed with a clearly abandoned child who's not a demon slayer yet easily managed to do what no hashira was able to do in centuries , not to mention their extremely young age. Thanks!

❕The hashira’s reaction to you as Yorichii’s reincarnation

You saving the hashira’s asses (with their own weapons!) as Yorichii’s child reincarnation.

Here’s my masterlist for the hashira.

Here’s my masterlist for the demons.

Note: Thank you for sending in a request! I hope I wrote it just the way you imagined and expected it. I think I struggled a little bit, but I you like it anyway, anon! <3 I’m thinking of making a part.2 with Giyu, Obanai, Mitsuri and Shinobu, but let’s see how this picks up first.

Pairing: Sanemi, Gyomei, Kyojuro, Tengen x gn!child!reader

💚 Sanemi Shinazugawa 💚

Sanemi was more impressed that he managed to fuck up this bad that he needed help from a frail child. He feels embarrassed. Embarrassment turn into humiliation, and that into rage. So, Sanemi did what he doest best. Yell and throw around insults.

“What the fuck were you thinking, kid? You could’ve fucking died! How can you even lift my katana?? Your arm is thinner than my damn finger!!”

But deep down, he’s kind of impressed. How did you even manage to do that? You look starved and dirty, as if homeless or neglected. Your yukata was stained and old, and seemingly the only article of clothing you have, obvious by the lack of shoes and socks. Geez, you’ll get sick like that, Sanemi thinks.

But as Sanemi inspected you further (and snatching his katana out of your hands) he noticed some kind of mark on your forehead. Is this the demon slayer mark Muichiro and Mitsuri were talking about back then? That would explain where your energy and skill to kill a former Lower Moon came from. Sanemi also saw how dirty and filthy your hair was, but he could see the deep maroon colour and the red tips peeling through. If someone were to wash your hair, it would look beautiful. Maybe Sanemi could even braid it?

But this was something to think about later. You look like you’re gonna fall over and just die of dehydration or starvation at any moment, or just freeze to death on the spot. If he wants to or not, Sanemi has to take you in for the moment. He can bring you back to the estate and hand you over to Shinobu or something later.

Sanemi would pick you up, into his arms, and wrap his cropped haori around your fragile body to warm you up a little.

“Let’s grab something for you to eat and maybe some clean clothes m’kay? I’ll bring you somewhere safe. Here, I got some ohagi. Eat up, you’ll need the strength to walk. I won’t carry your ass forever.”

🤎 Gyomei Himejima 🤎

Gyomei likes being around children. They are innocent, fragile, weak and need to be protected. They lie, too, but Gyomei doesn’t take it to heart when they do. He never did. Children are children after all.

But when he met you, right after you simply beheaded Upper Moon Five while he struggled, Gyomei knew that you are not an ordinary child. You do not need protection, you are strong enough to take care of yourself, and he can sense the powerful aura you had. He never felt this strong of an aura before, ever. It was almost overwhelming to his heightened senses.

“You seem very strong for a child. Where did you learn all this skill?”

In the ranks of the hashira, no one besides Gyomei can wield his morningstar. It’s too unique and western-style of a weapon to be used by an ordinary slayer, if you ignore the heavy weight all together. It takes a lot of training to wield something like that.

With that being said, Gyomei was surprised to say the least when he heard how you swung his weapon with ease. He felt the heat it was radiating after you beheaded the demon. What kind of breathing were you using?

“You seem tired. How about I carry you back to my estate? It’s safe , and you can rest there. On our way there, we can talk about how you got this strong. Shall I carry you on my shoulders?”

❤️‍🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku ❤️‍🔥

(Let’s just imagine he never fought Akaza during the Muegen Train Arc)

Kyojuro was walking beside what’s left of the Lower Moon’s Muegen train, checking for any more survivors and passengers. Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inouske were heading into the opposite direction to check the other half of the train, while Kyojuro inspected the head of the train (in hopes of finding his katana as well, wich he somehow lost).

That’s where he found you, buried underneath the rubble and remains of the train, luckily unscathed. Kyojuro was ecstatic to have found such a frail child like you in such a terrible situation.

“I’m glad I found you in time! Are you hurt? Hungry? Thirsty?”

But as Kyojuro inspected you, he recognised the yukata you were wearing. He could’ve swore that he saw someone similar flashing before his eyes, beheading the train with some kind of fiery technique. It wasn’t flame breathing, he would’ve recognised it immediately. It was more powerful, more bright. It resembled the power of the sun.

That’s when it hit him. Yes, it was indeed you who beheaded the Lower Moon! Your small stature, your aura. Kyojuro laughed loudly when he realised. You, a child, managed to defeat a Lower Moon! With his own sword as well! Even if you did snatch his katana when you had the chance to kill said demon, he forgave you. You saved them all after all.

He made a mental note to look through all the corps’ records, including the flame hashira archives his father Shinjuro keeps back in their home. Perhaps Kyojuro can find what kind of breathing technique you were using, in case you don’t know yourself.

Kyojuro took his haori off his uniform and wrapped you in it, lifting you off the ground and holding you close to his naturally heated body. You looked surprisingly neglected and starved, as if no one took care of you back home. If you even had a home.

“You did great defeating such a powerful Lower Moon! You should be proud of yourself! How about we share some bento boxes when we head back?”

(You ended up being forced to eat multiple bento boxes because Kyojuro was worried you might starve to death on him.)

🩷 Tengen Uzui 🩷

He is incredibly embarrassed. First, Tengen didn’t notice how Daki was not the real Upper Moon right away. Second, his hand gets sliced off clean. Third, he let his nichirin-blades get snatched by a child. And fourth, that said child managed to behead Gyutaro while that blonde kid and boar boy beheaded Daki. Tengen basically didn’t even do anything! He just let himself get poisoned and lost a hand, then just laid in dirt the rest of the fight. How unflashy and boring!

But he did notice the technique you used to behead the Gyutaro. It was fiery and bright, similar to his friend’s Kyojuro’s flire breathing, just that yours is much more powerful or something. Tengen made a mental note to ask his friend about the fire breathing techniques later.

“Hey kid, lend me a hand will ya?”

What a poor choice of words. He could tell that by your unimpressed expression, but you understood what he meant by that anyway. After giving him his blades back and lifting him off the ground, you helped him walk out of the rubble that was once the entertainment district. Tengen is surprised by your strength and that you’re even able to make him walk upright, but that surprise quickly turned into curiosity.

He noticed the red, flamey mark on your forehead and your dark, maroon hair. You looked very flashy, but neglected. You’re kinda dirty, too. Tengen thinks a little bit of make-up and a nice bath can make you look all flamboyant again! Oh, and yeah, he guesses you’re pretty strong too. But that’s beside the point for now.

Then, finally, Tengen was met with the lovely view of his wives.

“Lord Tengen!! You’re okay! We were so worried!! Waaahh!!”

“Be quiet, Suma! Can’t you see Tengen needs to rest?

“Who’s this little thing here? She looks so thin.”

“My new, flashy and flamboyant apprentice, Hina!”

💠

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Thank you again for requesting, I hope I wrote about what you had in mind. I just got a request for Genya, so I’ll be working on that soon as well.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves. <3

[mediumgayitalian]

“I want you to have this.”

“Will —”

“Nico,” Will interrupts, voice stern, “take it.”

He fiddles with the clasp of his watch, sliding it off and holding it between them. The Celestial bronze frame has long since worn smooth, leather straps molded to the shape of Will’s wrist after years and years of use. He can even see the indent on the side of the bottom strap, where the Ace bandage Will often fidgets with has worn a groove.

“Please.”

Nico glances up to meet Will’s wide, pleading blue eyes. They’re darker, in the setting sun; almost midnight blue. Like the Raleigh reflection that colours the sky happens somehow in the tiny rings of his irises, too.

He sighs, holding out his wrist. Will’s expression melts into something almost relieved, corners of his lips turned up in a grateful smile. He wraps his warm hands around Nico’s forearm and fingertips, flipping over his arm, and presses the cool watch face the the middle of his wrist, buckling up the straps. Nico’s wrists are thinner than Will’s, and the worn-wide hole third down from the tip of the strap is skipped for the long-forgotten fifth. The watch fits comfortably and snugly, light enough that Nico almost — almost — forgets it’s there.

“It’s nothing like Percy’s,” he says quietly. His hands linger on the skin of Nico’s forearm, blunt fingernails picking at the watch’s grooves. “It can’t protect you. It doesn’t have a shield or a sword or anything like that. It’s just a watch.”

Nico hums. Gently, careful not to shrug off Will’s hands, he brings the watch closer to his face, inspecting it. There are nicks and chips, as expected for a watch Will has worn longer than Nico has known him, but there’s not a flaw in sight. It even ticks, pleasantly, a sound almost musical.

“Beckendorf?”

A tiny, punched-out sigh slumps from Will’s mouth.

“Yeah.”

“I can tell.” He taps his thumb on the face. “He did good work.”

“He gave it to me when I was eight,” Will says softly. “I used to — freak out, a lot. My anxiety was a lot worse as a kid. I’d panic if someone was late to breakfast, if I woke up late and no one was in the cabin. I didn’t like not knowing when things were supposed to happen.” Will’s lips quirk up. “Set it on the table when he walked by me one day. Didn’t say a word, just mussed my hair and smiled at me like he didn’t just fix my shit better than Xanax ever could.” His smile turned wry. “I had the hugest crush on him for years.”

It startles a laugh out of Nico, the admission, imagining Will’s motormouth trailing after Beckendorf, his bemused indulgence.

“There’s no way he didn’t know, either. I am not a subtle person.”

His shoulders shake. Gods, what a sight. He’s almost sad he missed it — he’ll have to ask Clarisse or Annabeth about it. Hell, maybe even Chiron. Will even looks like he’ll allow him, wide grin on his face, red as his ears may be.

“Not a bad choice,” Nico agrees, calming down a little. The watch feels heavier, now, knowing the significance, and he looks at it, lips pursing. “You sure you want me to take it?”

Will’s hand drags down his his arm until it rests in the palm of his hands for one, two, three seconds; glancing up at Nico, glancing down, nodding to himself. He twists their fingers together, squeezing. Nico’s breath hitches.

“You know how my energy kinda — goes everywhere?”

Nico nods. Will has more healing ability than pretty much anyone the camp has seen — and the more power, the harder it is to control. He’s got a pretty good handle on it, but if you stand near enough to him while he’s healing it’s impossible not to feel the affects; the ease to your joints, soothing of your tense muscles, pleasant warmth over your skin. Nico has been healed of scrapes and bruises just by virtue of one of Will’s beaming smiles, he’s gotten so good. Nico only wishes it didn’t drain him.

“I’ve been wearing that watch over seven years,” Will says. His fingers twitch. “The bronze is magic, of course, but that leather — that leather was living, once. Beckendorf made the whole thing with his bare hands ‘cause he saw me struggling. As far as ordinary objects go —” Will shrugs helplessly. “Might as we’ll be a sponge. It’s been absorbing my magic nonstop for nearly a decade. It’s as connected to me as my eyes, my hair.”

Almost absentmindedly, his free hand reaches out for Nico’s. He curls their fingers together, meeting them in the middle, and squeezes, hard enough to ground. Will blinks back into focus.

“I can feel you wearing it,” he whispers. “Your — heartbeat, vitals. Your life force.” He brings their clasped hands close to his chest, tapping right above his heart. “Here. I can feel you.”

Nico holds his breath. “Not just ‘cause you’re close to me?”

“No. I’ve never felt it like this before. Started the second you put on that watch. Focus for a second, can you feel it?”

Closing his eyes, he tries — imagining the click of the watch, gentle and soft, and the rise and swell of Will’s breathing. It’s in his hands, at first, every place they’re clutching Will’s, but in a second he can almost feel it pound — the ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump of Will’s heart, right next to his. The knot of anxiety in his stomach that isn’t his. The worry, golden and protective, spilling over him in waves.

“An empathy link,” Nico breathes. He stares at Will in pure awe. “You — you made an empathy link.”

That kind of life-force magic…you have to be deeply connected to the core of basically everything to access it. Satyrs have it easy, being nature spirits. Gods spend so long grappling with time that they can manage, too.

But mortals? Even half-divine ones?

Nico has spent a lot of time with the mythical, alive and dead. He’s met theoi from pantheons forgotten to every living soul, foreign to even most of the dead. He knows his history twice over and backwards.

He’s never heard of that before.

“Holy shit, Will.”

“Just — come back to me,” Will says. He tugs on Nico’s arms and faces him head-on, eyes now almost black that the sun has set down. “Promise me, Nico. Stay safe. Stay outta trouble as much as you can. Keep your head on straight. And —” He squeezes their hands together, to hide the tremble in his fingers. “I mean it, okay? Come back to me.”

Slowly, giving him time to pull away, Nico frees his hands, sliding them up to cup Will’s face. He pulls him down, standing on his tiptoes to meet him halfway, and lingers, breath mixing, warm, in the millimeters of space between them.

“I promise,” he whispers. “I swear it, Will, I’ll come back to you. I swear it on the Styx.”

Thunder rumbles above them.

“Good.”

Will closes the tiny stretch of space separating them, and their hearts beat in tapping harmony.

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

[redbleedingrose]

Rhys absolutely LOVES hip dips. Am I saying this because I have very prominent hip dips with thick thighs… yes…

I just want Rhys. That it’s.

Listen.... Do I have a firm belief that Illyrian males love their women chubby??? Yes. One thousand percent yes. NSFW 18+ in the last paragraph

Rhysand x Reader

Okay so listen, growing up... it was really hard to accept what you looked like. Your parents, particularly your mother, was always on top of you about your weight, harrassing you about the curves and extra chub on the side of your hips and arms. She always had something to say, and it really impacted the way you looked at yourself, the way you felt about yourself, and your confidence.

It took years to build up that confidence, and a lot of that is because of your extremely handsome mate if you know what I mean ;)

You were taught from a young age that males who look like Rhysand would never take a second glance at you, let alone even care enough to take a good enough first glance. But Rhys???

The first night he saw you, he couldn't tear his eyes away. He could feel his entire body alight with desire and need. The way your hair perfectly framed your full cheeks, your dress accentuating all of your curves, the plump of your breasts and the softness of your belly. The way your full hips swayed so alluringly to the music of the Starfall festival's different entertainers in the streets of Velaris. He just knew.

He knew everything and nothing all at once. Your pretty eyes locking with his darkened amythests. You couldn't believe you caught your high lords gaze. You couldn't even fathom you kept his gaze. You kept looking away, thinking he would have moved on to a prettier female, a thinner female. But there he was. Standing on the balcony of one of the famed restaurants of the Rainbow, looking down at you like you are the first and only star he has ever seen in a sky of darkness.

Every time you looked back, his eyes were on you. Only you. All over you, consuming you like a starved male. It was overwhelming to say the least, the most powerful high lord fixated so clearly on you. You did the only thing you could think, try to disappear within the crowd, to run home and hide away. It is what you have been taught to do all your life, make yourself small and hide away. Rhys didn't let you get too far though. Winnowing silently into a pace right next to you as you passed through the empty alley using a shortcut down to your little apartment on the Sidra, murmuring in a husk, "Leaving so soon, my pretty little peach?"

And you nearly tripped over, yelping from the heart attack he gave you. Your knees locked before you after frantically stepping back a foot, halting you from moving any further as you turned to face him, death incarnate, standing before you, a whole head a half taller than you with the darkness of the night seemingly rolling off his shoulders. The people of Velaris adore their high lord, night triumphant a common nickname for the male standing before you used by his commonwealth. But you can't help the anxiety that strikes your heart that begins to beat hard and fast enough, that you are nearly sure he can hear it with how he eases his hands up in surrender, violet eyes twinkling with the star of mischief eyeing at where your hand presses against your heaving chest. "My apologies dream, I didn't mean to startle you," an almost sheepish grin gracing his beautiful face, "You left in a hurry, and I wanted to make sure you were alright... safe."

Your shoulders drop a bit as you let out a sigh of relief, "I am fine, thank you Lord Rhysand, I was just --" "Rhys," he chimes softly, "Please call me Rhys."

You raise a brow at him, crossing your arms over your chest, making your cleavage even more tantalizing to the male before you. "Uh huh. Anyway, Lord Rhysand, as I was saying, I was just headed home. I've had a long night." The high lord chuckled at your sass, broad shoulders shaking as mirth filling his entire being as he shook at his head. His pretty little peach dream is fierce, Mother help him. "Let me walk you home," titling his head to the side as he shoved his tattooed hands into his pockets, trying to make himself appear less intimidating than the high lord he is.

Skepticism was clear on your face while you shifted on your feet, "Pardon, but don't you have better, more pressing things to do? You know, as high lord?" The handsome male shook his head again, this time, more firmly as he replied with conviction, "Not at all peach." You eyed him up and down again, trying to drink in aura standing before you, trying to analyze him for any hesitation on his part, and you couldn't see any. Letting your arms fall with a sigh, you nodded before continuing your walk silently.

And the rest was history.

It took years for you to give him your trust, your friendship, and even longer to give him your love. It wasn't that you didn't want to, but the fact that you just couldn't come to terms that someone like him, someone who looked as strikingly beautiful as him would want to spend time with you, would want to love you. And all throughout, you couldn't come to terms that the high lord found you attractive. It was an insecurity that raged like a fire constant and deep, a fire that couldn't be put out until decades into your relationship.

And in all that time, Rhys spent every second loving all of you. Even the parts that you hated, he couldn't get enough of. Your curves, specifically your hips, gods those hip dips, and your tummy. Your body made him feral inside. It was a drive he had, a natural instinctual drive, to make you his. Your body was that of a goddess, and he knew it. And he wanted to make sure you knew it too.

It started with small compliments here and there, about your hair, how it flowed perfectly and framed your face. Then, he moved to your face; how it glowed under the light of the stars, how your full cheeks looked beautiful when you smiled. He cautiously moved to your body. Adoring how you fit in your dresses, the way your hips would sway and the pudge of your thighs, how they made perfectly good cushions for his head to rest on while he whined about the difficulties of running the court. How your tummy was perfect in every way, how it made him feel so proud, that his girl was healthy and never had to worry about being hungry. He often thought about things like your tummy growing with his babes. How your breasts were so full and soft. He often thought that your tits would hold the best milk for his babes when he pumps you full of them.

And then he moves forward with making you feel more comfortable with yourself. Showing you that he can handle all of you, that he wants to handle all of you. He forces you to sit on his lap no matter where you are, whether it is at the dining table with the other inner circle members or out drinking in Rita's or conferencing with other high lords. Your throne is his lap. He also cherishes the way the chub of your hips feel under his hands, he handles them constantly. If he needs you to shift to the side or moves behind you, he will move you over using your love handles with a gentle tap to your ass and a kiss to the cheek.

The male is just needy for you.

He wants to grip at the meat on your thighs with his rough hands while you bounce on his large cock. He needs to see your soft tits and tummy giggle while he spears in and out of you. He wants to spread you out on the dining table and eat you out like you were his last meal. He wants to bury his face in your tits, suckling on your rock hard nipple while he pinches and rolls the other. He wants to leave marks all over the fat that sits above your hips, on your chubby thighs, on your neck and shoulders. He wants everyone to know and see who you belong to.

Anyway, yeah he is an utter slut for hip dips and for you.

(The other Bat boys and Vanserra Bros also love their females chubby)

Masterlist

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting (((again) again) again), we have this :) I’ll be honest though, I have mixed thoughts about this. Nova, I owe you my life for beta reading this ily girl (@that-multi-fandom-hijabi) Go follow her writing acc! (@novaaaaaa-writes) Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of blood, reader's a baddie, reader used to work for Azula, bad depictions of firebending, maybe some inaccuracies idk man, some people might be ooc idk 😅, thoughts about death (like once), lots of buildup, reader is a good cook, reader owns a restaurant, reader sets a table on fire, both of them are very attracted to each other lmao, reader refuses to fire bend, I kinda head cannoned, basically if a firebender doesn't firebend of a certain amount of time, the fire inside them builds up and can damage the wielder, like clogged pipe in a way, love at first sight (?), slowburn kinda, reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind.

Pairing: Sokka x Firebender!Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴇᴇʟ ʀᴏʟʟꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It was safe to say, you were screwed. Traitor to the Fire Nation and all. 

“Ugh…” you grit out, patting your side in discomfort, pulling your hand away to find sticky blood.  

It was safe to say that Princess Azula wasn’t too happy to find out you didn’t approve of the current ideals of the Fire Nation. Alas, you were too far deep into her scheme to leave then, and you were now- but this time, you ran away.  

You weren’t going to find the Avatar- joining him would only make things harder on yourself- especially since he and his friends most definitely hated you for all the stunts you pulled alongside the son and daughter of Firelord Ozai.  

So you were left with two options. Sit in the dark and disgusting alleyway you were hiding in and bleed to death, or find somewhere to stay, patch yourself up, and bunker down with a new identity. 

If there’s one thing the Fire Nation would underestimate about you- it was your will to live. 

The journey to the Earth Kingdom was torturous, your aching feet would be screaming in overexertion, yet you pushed on. Solitude was your only solace, though the lack of social interaction guaranteed nothing would stop the onslaught of dark thoughts entering your mind, it was comforting to you that you were finally free to make your own decisions without anyone else influencing them. 

You reached the gates of the Earth Kingdom battered and bruised- the month of so that you traveled for changed your appearance quite a bit- your hair slightly longer and the numerous different climates you had suffered through allowed your hair to settle into gentle waves. You got thinner, lack of food turning you into a near skeleton, but the muscles you had trained your whole life remained, and you were stronger than ever. Obviously, the guards didn’t recognize you, letting you pass without a hitch under a fake name. 

You found a kind older woman in the outer ring of Ba Sing Se, who offered you take you in for the night. 

There, you enjoyed a soothing bath and a good meal, and she was pleasant company. You slept on the couch that night, and left early the next morning, leaving a few gold coins as a subpar payment for her hospitality. 

And then you were on your own again. 

Days passed, and then months, you worked almost every job under the sun as you finally scrounged up enough money to open your own store. 

It was a nice and quaint restaurant, and you worked your blood, sweat, and tears into it- and that was a statement, you rarely cried. Not anymore anyways- experiencing so much loss does that to people. 

You called it the Unagi- your restaurant known for its excellent soups and eel rolls, both of which were comfort foods growing up. Even though you vowed to start a new life, and throw your old one behind, you kept this part of your old life with you. You stopped bending, not a single spark or flame left your fingertips after the day you left the Fire Nation. 

Months passed, 7 to be exact, and you had built quite the reputation in Ba Sing Se- travelers from all over had some solely to try your food, and they were not disappointed. Your cooking prowess as a force to be reckoned with- and you enjoyed in immensely. For the first time in years, you were happy. 

Of course, rush hour was the most overwhelming experience you had ever had to experience- as you refused to hire anyone to assist you run your shop- your trust had run thin, and you weren’t going to risk the product of your hard work to anyone. Eventually, you learned to keep all your ingredients preprepared- and then cook them in your soups and put them in your rolls the morning of each day, so that they were all fresh and it was less work for you. All your customers were understanding, and respected you for your time and work. People loved your story- a stranger and a traveler with basically next to nothing, and then turned your life around in just a few months. 

After a few months, you practically knew all the gossip in the city- always overhearing the snippets of murmurs from your customers. Usually, you paid no mind to them, but today, what you heard stopped you in your tracks.  

“Did you hear?”  

“Yeah! The Avatar and his crew were spotted at the gates this morning!” 

“Do you think Ba Sing Se is in trouble?!” 

“I hope not, after what happened in the Northern Wa-” 

You stopped listening after that, going back to the kitchen with the blood roaring in your ears. You stirred the soup you were making with a new intensity, as it your life depended on it. Dread pooled in your stomach- if the Avatar and his friends came around the Unagi, you were done for. The Avatar would recognize you, the only one to have seen you without the normal mask you wore- and the only one out of the group you had met.  

You sighed, deciding to ignore the fear you felt. Months of peace wore down your guard a little bit, and you were used to forcing your body into a state of ease after the first few weeks you had stayed in the city- nightmares plaguing you day and night. They were gone now, thankfully, but if the Avatar and his friends destroyed everything you worked so hard to maintain, you might break.  

Fortunately, weeks went by without a hitch, no sign of the Avatar, and no sign of the Unagi being burnt down.  

One day, on a relatively quiet day, you hear a few voices outside. 

“Here Sokka, Toph, take some gold and treat yourself to some food, I hear this place is really good.” A female voice says, she sounded around 14-15 years old. “We’ll meet you back in the square- bring some for the rest of us.”  

You don’t hear much of what the girl says afterwards, opting to resume taking orders. That’s when you lay your eyes on the boy in front of you. He had a wolf’s knot, something you knew to be common in the water tribe. He had the build of a warrior, toned muscles littered with scars that you knew weren't achieved easily. And his eyes, a brilliant shade of blue you thought you could get lost in, a pleasant contrast to the red of the Fire Nation you would be tied to for the rest of your life. 

It takes you a few minutes to realize you were staring, and a few more to realize that he was too. You cough into your fist awkwardly and look away, realizing you had company. 

The young girl next to him slams a few pieces of gold onto the counter, but you, unlike the boy across from you, didn’t flinch – you were used to it. “Whaddya got for us, lady?” she asks in a brash tone, but you weren’t intimidated, nor were you offended, but the boy you were staring at earlier still apologizes on her behalf.  

You chuckle lightly, it amused you to see the energy in the two of them as you respond to the girl’s question. “The gold can get you some soup with some salmon, along with eel rolls, on the house.” you say, smiling lightly.  

The boy’s eyes light up in excitement, though he seemed a little older than you, there was no mistaking that childish enthusiasm for a nice homecooked meal.  

“Can I get your name?” You ask, grabbing your notepad and quill to write down the order.  

“Sokka” he says, with a teasing sparkle in his eyes, and you can’t help but grin at his antics. It’s been a while since you felt like this. You, giddy over a crush? The feeling was a little foreign to you, but it wasn’t unwelcome.  

“And you?” he asks, leaning slightly over the counter. You reciprocate his movements, telling him your name and telling him and his friend to take a seat.  

Sokka and his friend, Toph, left shortly after, taking their soup to go and devouring their eel rolls. It was late now, you were sweeping up the floors, planning to leave and close the Unagi in an hour or so, before something unexpected happened.  

You feel a sharp pain in your chest collapsing to the ground, your insides felt like they were burning, invisible flames eating away and you. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, mind raging and all you could see what red.  

Why was this happening to you?  

You felt your body flare up in pain, and all you wanted was for it to stop for it to go away. 

“You will always be a part of the Fire Nation. “Azula had told you, with a manic look in her eye. “No matter how long you try to suppress it, your inner fire will never be satisfied. One day, your fire will turn against you, your body won’t be able to handle it anymore, no matter how strong you think you are. Let’s face it, you’re a monster, just like me.” 

You didn’t hear the jingle of the door opening.  

Letting out an anguished cry, you thrust out your arms, cerulean flames setting one of your tables on fire.  

And staring at you, through the blue flames, were those sparkling eyes you loved so much. Staring at you with disgust and horror.  

“Sokka, oh my god-” you say, in shock. 

“Who are you.” he cuts in, his eyes sharp and cold.  

“I-I swear, I’m not with the Fire Nation anymore, I-” You stutter, your throat closing in. You stumble back, staring at the flaming table with a horrified look in your eyes.  

Sokka looks at you, unsure of what to do. You were the enemy, you were a firebender, one who could wield blue flames. Yet... he knew you were telling the truth. You were the same person who kindly gave them free food and didn’t turn them away even with Toph’s brashness.  

He sighs, and looks around, before turning back to you. “C’mon, let’s go find my friends. My sister’s a waterbender, she’ll put out the fire for you.  

You just stand there numb, your body still reeling from the aftershocks of feeling so much pain. You didn’t realize you were crying until Sokka walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, letting your tears soak into the fabric of his shirt. He strokes your hair lightly and holds you close. He smelled earthy, a musk that reminded you of the scent you smelled after it rained, all natural and grounding, soothing your worries.  

“I’m here.” is all he says, and you stand like that, Sokka’s frame blocking the blue flames from your sight- a barrier between the life you live now, and the one you left behind.  

BONUS: 

After Sokka and you find Katara and the others, you put out the fire- Aang recognized you immediately, but Sokka vouched for you, saying that you didn’t ally with the Fire Nation anymore, and that you were trustworthy. And then, once you guide them to the back of the store, where your living quarters were, you and Sokka were alone again.  

“Hey Sokka?” you ask, the boy in question looking at you with his full attention. “Why were you at my shop in the middle of the night?”  

Sokka chuckles sheepishly and looks at you with that sparkle in his eyes. “I may or may not have been craving those eel rolls of yours.” 

You snort, and you look at him with a teasing smile on your face. “You still hungry?” 

It was safe to say neither of you got much sleep that night, up laughing and throwing rice grains at each other.  

[clitorphosis]

AMATO AMAR PERDONA

notes: the title is taken from The Divine Comedy, Canto 5(second circle) of Inferno. Initially this was an idea I wanted to include in my other fanfiction, so I guess this can be considered as a bonus.

Priest Leon S. Kennedy x female reader | 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, light religious themes, Leon is a priest, blowjob, blasphemy kink, improper use of confessional booth, snowball kiss, semi public sex.

tags: @sprawberry

After years of fighting B.O.W, he finally sets on something calm, helping and saving people without risking his own life, but as time passes by, a bitter realization hits Leon harder than he expected; that not everyone was born for this. Maybe it is adrenaline addiction or without noticing he had found comfort in his misery at that time, but he is grateful that the routine incorporated easily into one’s life as deeds accumulate, overshadowing any thoughts about changing his life again and he didn’t have any other way other than focusing on the work.

The church is old and is not located in the best place, which tends to have windy weather. He suspected those are reasons why the building doesn’t have a lot of visitors, not like people are deeply religious nowadays either. Sometimes it feels like walls are thinner than paper, the wind brushes and whispers sweet, quiet nothings, barely audible to human ears while Leon prepares for his tasks or just lollygags during his free time. It has been said that airy currents can bring many unwanted things; pebbles, the leaves during the autumn season and the smells that disclose people’s secrets. He could never have expected it to bring a woman into his life, making it more colorful than any light arrays coming from the glass-stained windows in his church. From a small spark, a Great flame has risen.

The only thing he needed to do was to help you with your husband’s funeral, but he fucked this up. Really fucked up all this, his mind was repeating multiple times that it was his job to console you, he should have put down your little advances, but he couldn’t, deep down the urge to delve into something prohibited was stronger. The conflict between his morality and passion had died down in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Your appearance was like a quick bullet going through his routine and destroying it, adding the thrill that consumed the guilt he was supposed to feel. Little touches of your fingers, while no one is looking, quickly have moved to more intimate encounters, indulging in each other’s body on the altar, under the eyes of Jesus.

Some days, even the confessional booth was filled with your voice, telling him your desires and how much you want him to fuck your brains out of your head, to make you a dumb slut in front of the son of God and there has never been a trace of shame in your words. A long time ago he deduced a devil would sound like you; with a sweet-sweet intonation describing, in the holy place and not trying to hide all details, how his cock would fill nicely your pussy. Leon’s mind didn’t help much in those cases either. It has always vividly recalled how good your moans echo against the walls of the church. Either there is no need to imagine anything he hasn’t already done in this building, every cranny has heard and the All-seeing eye has witnessed you indulging in the temptation of each other’s body. The gentle love transforms into a deadly sin, but it is better to suffer in hell together, than alone.

His cock was already hard, tucked out, stroking it with his hand while his blue eyes are set on your knelt state. He tugs your hair, pulling you closer to his aching length, pushing it against your lips. They almost envelop its head, the soft and plush skin of them on it, he keeps tracing and brushing his tip, smearing a little bit of his already leaking precum but not letting you go any further. Almost all day passed without even a light touch which is too much for him, a man like him can have a quick good time, and teasing himself was a bad decision.

“Daddy Kennedy, that’s not polite to make a lady wait” Your tongue peeks out to lick away the bitter substance on your lips, teeth bite down slightly on the lower skin after tongue retreated. His grip on your hair tightened, cracking out a smile and pushing your head closer now.

“It is ‘Father Kennedy’” his correction leaves his mouth quickly, leading to a light slap on your lips with his cock as a silent command to open your mouth. “and I still didn’t hear any holy words from this mouth”

You loll out the tongue, feeling him dragging his leaking head against the exposed wet surface, smearing and filling your tastebuds with the bitterness of his precum, which makes more saliva pool in your mouth. The man in front of you not only teases himself but you too.

“What do we say?” He inquires breathlessly, his blue orbs almost shining from intensity and heat in the dimly lightened booth. He slaps his cock on your tongue inducing a soft wet sound to escape when it connects with the flesh.

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and corrupted your man.” Your eyes keep the contact with Leon’s as the prayer leaves your mouth quickly, something you have already repeated a billion times and he is already familiar with those words, not his first time to hear from one’s lips and it wouldn’t be the last time. This is so boring in the end, repenting feverly about something you can’t help but spit on. So why not alter it? Punishment is much more tempting than forgiveness. Your lips ghost on his aching cock, movements of your tongue brush more against the tip, flicking ‘accidentally’ at it and leaving him to covet for more. “Alas, I don’t detest all my sins cause the pain of hell is more alluring than the pleasures of heaven”

“Do I need to teach you everything?” Leon’s voice breaks the silence with a rough tone after you alter the prayer. You wish he would strike you, but he doesn’t. His attention shifts, watching a string of saliva dripping along his flesh from the tip of your tongue. Your eyes are on his face, meeting his gaze and not wavering. “Don’t you have any shame in that body of yours? Carrying on your whoring so openly in front of me” There is a silence, but even with the lack of his order you can grasp what he wants right now; the grip on your hair lessens, letting you be more free in your actions. “But be not afraid, my dove, this don’t disgust me, I am here to absolve you from your sins”

You don’t need to be ordered around to know what he implies. His body shudders when your lips embrace his cock in the wet and warm sensations around him, your hand slides down with your mouth along the length until you reach the base. Leon doesn’t notice how his own palm returns its grip on your hair, his hips buck up pushing you deeper to get more from your mouth already. A greedy bastard you would call him. Deep inside guilt tries to crawl out, but your mouth around him let this bullshit disappear and focus on how your tongue flicks against the head, playing with the sensitive spot under the tip, while your hand keeps pumping along the flesh, spreading the dripping saliva with every stroke. The acolyte corrupted by a widow, he should be drowning in guilt and beg for forgiveness of the Lord, but the sight of you in between his legs reminds him that God can’t give a blowjob in the confessional booth, maybe is that what’s tempting.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned, my last confession was a year ago” Leon’s ears catch another woman’s voice, pulling him out of overflowing pleasure. This can’t be you, your mouth is busy with his cock and for a brief moment, he felt his blood hitch in his veins, at this hour usually there are no visitors, but seems this isn’t your lucky day. Your head halts its movements, keeping his cock in your warm and wet mouth, looking at him with a clear surprise. An idea sparkles in your mind, and you try to move more, to push his buttons and see him struggle cause of your doings, but his hand prevents this by giving a quick tap on the back of your head; ‘Don’t move’. A quiet sob before a trembling voice speaks up again. “I accuse myself of adultery, I have been eyeing and lusting for the man who isn’t my husband, God, I-…I am so sorry”

O the irony of the situation having someone confess the sin of lust while you are kneeling in between his legs. His hand grips harder your hair to tilt your head better so the tip rubs against the soft and velvet of your cheek, stretching it and he can feel your drool roll down, staining his pants. Leon takes a brief peek at the shadowed figure in the grilled window, trying to recollect himself. Shaky breath leaves his lips, listening to a woman’s words fill the space, his blue eyes dart down to your messy frame; trying to swallow your saliva. Leon can’t keep still himself, his hips start rolling into your mouth, enjoying the wetness of your tongue brushing along his sliding length. The pleasure makes it too hard to stay still, making him greedier for more. Your tongue flicks on his tip every time his cock moves back and forth slowly, leading his head rests against the wooden wall behind him, his half-lidded gaze keeps eye contact with you.

“Have you given into the temptation?” Leon asks. His voice feels so sensual to your ears, but they aren’t addressed to you. The poor woman whispers something, but you don’t catch her words cause your attention is mostly on the dick in your mouth.

His cock slides further, the tip rubs against the back of the throat provoking it to squeeze and tighten around him nicely and you try not to gag, not to sink too deep but your efforts are useless. His grip holds you well as he pushes you lower, highlighting his control over you right now. Drool drips more, its excess gathering at the corners of your mouth. There can be heard some noises coming from you, sending pleasant vibrations over every nerve of his body, but those wet sounds get muffled by his own heavy voice and shaky voice, trying to control it and not to get caught. This wouldn’t do anything good for his reputation.

“I can hear you rue your sin… my child, so…” he swallows hard, pausing to admire your messy state; eyes are watered, some tears roll down and your cheeks are stained with mascara, your face starts to get redder and the lack of oxygen makes you feel lightheaded, holding your breath to not mess with your gag reflex. “God is… All-forgiving..” Another heavy sigh leaves his mouth, trying to control his voice and not to groan as you swallow the excess saliva, provoking another jolt of pleasure running through his body. The warmth and how you struggle made him almost choke on the moan and forget what he was saying. If not for that lady, he would be already face fucking you without any obstacles. He swallows hard again, his tone is lower now, but there is an audible shakiness. “Repent your sins and pray to be shielded” A pause, staring at you with a darkened and burned gaze. “By the temptation of the devil… my child“

He knows well who is the devil here. His voice almost breaks in a high-pitched tone at the end of the sentence, when he rolled his hips into you, again to grind his tip into the back of your throat, his leaking tip from precum fills your taste buds again and you swallow some of the salivas, making tight walls clench around him, almost begging to cum. Personally, Leon doesn’t have the patience to keep that visitor any longer here, it gets much harder to keep his voice steady and right now his own pleasure is much more important than one’s problem. And he is nothing but a man. Hearing a mumble of prayer on the other side of the booth. His grip lessens on your hair, giving you control of your movements. You pull back, letting air to reach your lungs finally. Your lips create a strand of saliva between his dick and your glistening and swollen lips, inhaling greedily for air, while his mouth is covered by palm, trying to not groan which threatens to crawl out from his lips cause of the messy sight in front of him. His struggle is like an addiction, you can’t stay away from him right now, your lips return to pepper his cock with kisses, making him twitch in the hot air of narrow space and you sink down with your mouth, sucking on the tip while hand returns to pump his length, watching him struggling not to moan. Too bad he got lucky, the other voice ceased to exist, leaving him with you.

“That’s how you pray, sweet dove” Leon teases, the corners of his lip tugging up into a smirk. You hum, sending another wave of pleasure. Another flick and he feels his balls tighten, his cock throbbing in your mouth and his fingers return to your hair, taking control of your movements back into his hands. “Such a good little thing, fuck…” Leon mumbles, feeling beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He chases the rising pleasure in his body, his hips bucking to meet your face. Deepening thrusts, his head grinds against your throat. Another low moan escapes his lips. “Sucking so well, God made you for this, right?”

All he can see is your messy face, sloppily taking him so well, Leon is so focused on you and your mouth, his orgasm approaches quicker than he expected. His body shudders and with the last thrust his cock throbs for the last time and spurts out a load of cum, filling your mouth. His legs feel numb, and with a heavy gaze he is watching your mouth fill with his fluid so well. Leon’s mind is still under the influence of his orgasm and the post-nut clarity doesn’t hit him, so he doesn’t register how you get up so quickly, your hand lays on his stubbled cheek to pull him into a kiss. Mouth opened kiss. Your tongue doesn’t shy to intrude into his mouth, sloppily kissing him and passing the warm, slightly sticky, and salty substance into his mouth. His own cum. His taste. It fills his mouth and a moan crawls out against your lips. He pulled you tightly against his body, kissing you back harder, tongue probing and sliding against each other, playing and mixing his cum with your salivas. His Adam’s apple bobs and he swallowed it, the devil cocktail, feeling hot underneath his collar. Leon pulls back from a kiss, a string of fluids connects your lips, and if there was more time, he would fuck you on some of the wooden pews or better, on the altar. Alas, all he can do right now is to reach for your mouth to trace along the swollen and wet flesh of your lower lip. Not like his are better right now, he can still taste himself on the tip of his tongue.

“The god has freed you from your sins” he whispers, still panting heavily and his gaze is intently observing you with a deep, burning desire.

“Amen, Father” you respond.

[richarlotte]

more things you swear by?

Japanese Lingerie.

I swear by Japanese lingerie, especially if you love detailed sets. My body doesn’t suit American-made lingerie now that I’ve lost so much weight, and I learned about Japanese lingerie from r/abrathatfits on my journey to find what suited me. The bras are forward projecting and give me a much better side view. I love buying matching lingerie sets, and the sets I usually go for are lacy and intricate; they’re incredibly well priced for the quality they are, and they fit me the way I like my sets to fit me. Buying lingerie is extremely feminine to me, and I love finding sets that complement my body. I’m still not as secure in my new body as I’d like to be, and good lingerie makes me feel beautiful again.

French Tips.

French tips are my go-to. They look good, they’re low maintenance, they’re universally acceptable, and they look clean. When done right, they make my hands look longer and thinner than they are, and I love that with a thinner white line, they look and feel delicate. I mostly do French mani-pedis; it’s a habit I got into when I first went to Chicago, and it’s served me well, so I doubt I’ll ever stray from it. The nail salon combo is widely accepted to be DND865 and DND473, and I do an acrylic overlay on top of my natural nails, keep an oval shape, and request a thin tip if I’m not doing BIAB again. I won’t get into the acrylic vs. BIAB debate at the moment, but I will say that when properly done, BIAB looks amazing, is better for helping you retain length, and it lasts longer than acrylic while looking better.

Classic Makeup and Flicky Layered Hair.

I love styling my hair and doing my makeup; it’s like a reward for waking up in the morning. I get to sit down, make myself pretty, and enjoy the entire process. I figured it was time to update my skincare and makeup routines once again, so I took the time to start watching makeup tutorials (Uma Jammeh, amazing) and using what products I already have to adapt certain looks to my face. As for hair, I’m obsessed with Sarmadina de Beaute as of late and layers. I think my hair looks best with heavy, flicky layers (Remington curls) if I don’t have the time to do a blowout, and I’ve really embraced the process of both finding styling inspiration and actually doing my hair. I found my ultimate inspiration the other day, ordered hair immediately, and cut and styled one of my synthetic wigs to get the look in the interim, and I’m smitten.

Minimal Jewelry.

I’ve always worn minimal jewelry; I’m a major fan of Cartier, and I’ve curated a small collection that I wear nearly every day. I love accessorizing, but I don’t like wearing a million things that have no meaning; I prefer to only wear things I love or things that have a story behind them. Gold is my metal and diamonds are my jewel. I prefer this combo over all of the other combos I’ve seen or worn before, but I also occasionally wear mother of pearl when the time is right. I dislike being weighed down by poorly made pieces; I think jewelry can be used as a statement (when needed), and putting thought into what I wear and what I want my jewelry to say has saved me a lot of misery. With the exception of my charm necklace or lavaliere necklace, I try to wear the same sets every day.

Lymphatic Massages and Red Light Therapy.

Now that it’s November and the weather is soon to turn cold again, I’m much more focused on cardio and my diet. Because I’ve filled my weekday mornings with Pilates and my afternoons with the elliptical and stairmaster, I’ve added lymphatic drainage massages and red light therapy to my weekend schedule. I’ll be in Europe, on the slopes, in the freezing cold for the majority of my winter break, and I’m preparing for that now. Lymphatic massages are a lifesaver for me, especially during allergy season, and full-body red light therapy is just an additional benefit. I’ve also switched from studio yoga to hot yoga and from the steam room back to the sauna, stopped drinking coffee, and really started focusing on increasing my flexibility.

Tinting, Tanning, and Toning.

I love having dark skin already, but I do tend to go wild with the self-tanning in the winter. In my mind, there’s nothing more beautiful than dark skin against white snow, and the darker I am, the better I look. I grew up being told that I was too dark, but I’ve embraced it. I’m proud of my skin, and I love the richness of it, and I use tanner as a way to cover up the scarring on my body and contour my face. As for tinting, I tint my brows and lashes darker than I normally would in the colder months because they don’t turn over or fade as quickly. I never ever tint my eyebrows jet black; that color is far too harsh for my face, and I can’t pull it off at all. I use the darkest brown on my brows and jet black on my lashes. When it comes to toning, I spray my entire body with the Ordinary’s glycolic acid and let it dry after showering for the best results. I swear by it for clearing body acne and preventing any body odor.

It’s similar but different.

[troublesomesnitch]

Uneasy Lies the Head

Aegon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen (but subtle)

This is my contribution to @targaryen-dynasty's Sleepover Challenge! I was given the prompt only one bed/forced proximity and came up with this little drabble.

Contents: masturbation, lots of incestuous vibes, but no actual incest (sorry). Also minor 'historical' and HOTD inaccuracies.

Words: 1600

Military camps are a humble affair. Even for a king. 

They have been on the march for days, waiting for news of the enemy’s movements, and enduring the most discouraging conditions. Dust caking onto their skin, painful bug bites, and having to shit in a ditch in the woods, just to name a few.

Aegon’s tent is the nicest by far, but it is still a poor imitation of what he is used to. There are furs laid out on the ground, and an oil lamp hung from the rafters, but the banner on the wall is crooked, and the furnishings leave much to be desired. All they’ve arranged for him is a wobbly table, six uncomfortable chairs, and two cots on the ground. 

One for the king, and one for his brother. 

They have not shared a chamber since they were boys. Aegon doesn’t mind it so much, but Aemond’s mouth forms an even thinner line than usual, and he makes a terrible fuss when he undresses for bed. It will be scorching hot in the tent come the morning, but his shirt stays on, and he pulls at the edge until it reaches the middle of his thighs. Lest anything indecent be on show. 

“Seven hells, I’m your brother,” Aegon says, but it only earns him an irritated sound as Aemond settles on his cot. Flat on his back, hands folded over his chest, and not a single wrinkle in the sheets draped across his form. 

Aegon retires too, much earlier than he usually would. He is sore in his muscles, and fed up with bickering advisors and difficult decisions. With riding all day, with hurry up and wait. 

There are wineskins being passed around outside, and girls too, the usual camp followers. But none of them much appealed to him tonight. Nothing out here really does.

And yet. 

When Aegon wakes sometime in the small hours, it is with a terrible ache between his legs. His cock is hard, lying stiff and leaking against his stomach, and there is a tightness in his balls that demands attention. 

He has not had the chance to indulge in pleasures of the solitary kind, as the camp offers him no privacy - not when he is surrounded by lords at all times, and certainly not now, with Aemond sleeping just a few feet away. 

He is so close that Aegon can hear his slow breaths, and smell his scent of sweat and expensive oils. Somehow, it is strangely comforting. Nice to know that he perspires just the same as everyone else, even if there’s still a pleasant hint of sandalwood underneath.

In fact, Aegon does not believe he has ever seen his brother in such a candid state as just now. Aemond’s face is flushed with heat, and his lips are ever so slightly parted; dry and chapped from the harsh summer sun. The shirt is still on, but damp with sweat and loosened at the neck, baring his glistening collar bones; the golden hair that curls on his chest. 

Aegon still has that boyish quality about him, but Aemond looks like a fully grown man. Like someone who could and should lead an army to battle. He acts more like a grown man too, as Aegon will be the first to admit. Noble. Dignified. 

Aemond would never be caught drunkenly roaming the streets of King’s Landing. He does not share his brother's fondness for spirits and women. 

Once, when they were alone in the training yard, Aegon had dared to ask you do fuck, right?, and Aemond had rolled his eye and looked at him as though it was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. 

Aegon took that as a yes. 

He would like for them to share a girl sometime, like royal princes should, like Father and Daemon undoubtedly did in their youth. He would even let Aemond choose the girl, picky as he is, and let him have first pick of her openings too. He’d choose her cunt of course, because that is the proper way, but he wouldn’t call it her cunt, he would call it something more poetic and ridiculous. Her womanhood. Her flower. 

Twat. 

But it is still a nice thing for Aegon to imagine when he starts quietly fisting his cock under the sheet. A whore kneeling on a bed, Aemond behind her and himself by her head. Cocks buried to the hilt, and wet, squelching noises coming from both ends. Aemond’s balls slapping against her arse, and his own hitting her chin. 

Or, if that is not to Aemond’s liking, then Aegon would be glad to switch places. The girl would be on her back, and he would fuck her the usual way, and they could make her squeeze her tits together and have Aemond fuck the valley in between. Because that is the one thing Aegon knows about his brother’s preferences - he does like a good pair of tits. And it’d be perfect for Aegon too, because while he would get to feel the girl’s insides, he would also be able to look at the action in front of him. See her fleshy, bouncing tits, and Aemond’s cock sliding in between. Hard, and glistening with oil, as obviously they would need some lubrication. Aegon could even help hold her tits in place, if need be. In such a position, his and Aemond’s bodies would be so close that they’d have no choice but to move together, keep the same rhythm, or else neither would be able to find his release. What a dirty thing that would be, to fuck like that. Together. 

But unfortunately, it is highly unlikely that Aemond would ever agree to something so exceedingly intimate.

So perhaps they would take turns instead, in which case Aegon would be charitable and volunteer to be second for once. He would not ask the girl to wash herself in between - he would fuck her right after, while her cunt was still full of his brother’s emission. 

And of course, the filthiest thing of all would be to make use of both of her holes at once. Aegon can think of only one position that would make it possible: the girl would have to be on all fours, and Aemond would lie underneath her and fuck up into her cunt. He would have her tits in his face, squeezing them tight and sucking on her nipples, and then Aegon would stand between his legs and slide his cock into the girl’s arse. 

The thought of it makes his balls feel tight, and he pumps his cock with one hand, and massages his sack with the other, spurred on by the filthy images in his head. 

A pretty girl bent over a table, or riding his brother, or taking them both in her mouth at the same time. His own cock pulsing in her arse. Aemond in his moment of ecstasy, spilling himself all over her tits. 

They would leave her covered and full of their royal seed. Dragon’s seed. Surely for a common whore there could be no higher honour. 

Aegon tries his best to keep silent when he comes, gritting his teeth and gripping onto the edge of his cot. His cock throbs, and he rubs the tip of it hard, each squirt of seed making his body tremble and his hips thrust up. Unwittingly, and over and over until he finally feels relieved and can wipe his fingers clean on the sheet. 

It is quiet in the tent, and unsettlingly quiet outside. The sounds of drunkenness have died down, and even the grasshoppers have stopped chirping, as if time itself stood still. 

With his urges now taken care of, it takes only moments for the knot in Aegon's stomach to tighten once more.

There will be a great battle, and then several more after that, and hundreds, thousands of men will die in his name. Their wives will mourn, and their children will starve when no one is left to farm the lands, and all of the grains they have saved will soon be requisitioned for the armies. Green and black alike. 

In the weeks that have passed since his coronation, Aegon has come to realise that his father’s crown was too light and too shiny, and that the blackened iron he now wears is a better adornment. It is heavy, and ugly, and a much truer reflection of what it means to be king; of the burden he must now carry on his woefully ill-prepared shoulders. 

There are two with whom he can share it, though. Two who would die for his cause, out of love as much as duty, and one of them is asleep in this very room. 

“Aemond,” he calls, quietly, like he would often do when they were very little and still slept in the nursery. As if to make sure he was still there. “Aemond. Aemond. Aemond?”

“What,” Aemond grumbles, hoarse with sleep, but as irritable as always. He stirs on his cot, wiping the sweat off his brow and shuffling around under the sheet. The soaked shirt is pulled over his head and tossed aside. Too hot.

“I told you,” Aegon says. 

“Are you quite finished,” is his brother’s sullen response. 

It must just be the talking he’s referring to, but. Aegon can’t be sure.

Proof read, but my brain is mush today, so sincere apologies for all the stuff I've missed.

[nocturnalfandomartist]

hi !! its nice to meet you, im bee!! your art is GORGEOUS!!!!!!!!!! random icebreaker, who's your fav character to draw? 💛

Okay, I've been itching to answer this! Sorry for the wait, I've been super busy but I wanted to answer this one with some doodles!

It's a bit hard to decide, but spoiler alert: it's Zelda. Just all of the Zeldas; it rotates between them often! I especially enjoy designing my own versions (@loz-untold-myths), but one I've had the most fun (and difficulty) drawing lately has been my design for the ancient princess who fought the first Calamity! I headcanon her to be Rauru and Sonia's daughter.

Here's some doodles of her regarding her design's inspirations! ^^ I've been trying to work on her consistency. Thanks so much for the ask and your kind words! It means a whole lot!!! ♡

(Am I using this as an excuse to draw her a bunch and differentiate her from her mother? Maybe a little bit. Understandably, she keeps getting tagged as Queen Sonia...).

More art of her since the doodles sort of don't show the whole design:

Some more info about this design if you're curious! ✦

Hair

▪︎Zelda's hair is by far the most complicated piece despite it not appearing such.

▪︎Her little hair spikes at the back are exaggerated to resemble ALttP Zelda's. :)

▪︎Her hair is mostly the same as Rauru's, even down to the under highlights, but the blonde and white are inverted to resemble her mother's hair.

▪︎Zelda has yet another "under" layer of her hair, made up of white thinner hair that goes from the sides of her head and onto the back/top of her ears. (A small note: Zelda's ears are just as articulate as Rauru's as well, making for a very expressive princess).

Body

▪︎Zelda is given her mother's skin tone, but she has BotW Zelda's body type, face shape, and eye shape (but Sonia's eyelashes).

▪︎Zelda has body paint with patterns of the Light Dragon and Sheikah symbols. She has facepaint more like her aunt Mineru's, highlighting her third eye that resembles the Light Dragon's.

▪︎Zelda's nails are sharp, almost like claws. They are made of the same denser material that Zonai claws are made of; being just as sharp and hard to break.

Clothes

▪︎ Silent Princesses, which have begun to bloom in the wild thanks to the Light Dragon's creation, are woven into her hair.

▪︎The design on her banner is the same shape as the banner on BotW Zelda's royal gown.

▪︎The robes combine the shapes of both of BotW/TotK Zelda's prayer dresses.

▪︎The bracelets are slightly altered versions of BotW Zelda's. The belt is a blockier version of the one in BotW Zelda's robes to replicate the shape/structure of Sonia and TotK Zelda's ornamentation. She has lotus earrings like Mineru and Sonia.

▪︎ She has one arm where the golden bracelet continues into other accessories like the Zonai's, paired with a long blue sleeve underneath.

She has more outfits than this, even a Sheik personality, but these doodles alone somehow took almost seven hours. ^^" If you've read this far, thanks for indulging in my rambling!!

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REBLOGGING IS ENCOURAGED, BUT DO NOT REPOST.