#my inbox is a place of great joy

[igotsnothing]

💌This is the Amazing Person Award! Once you are given this award you are supposed to paste it in the ask of eight different people, who, in your opinion, deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it is sweet to know someone thinks you’re amazing inside and out! 💌

You're the first one who has ever sent me one of these so thank you sooo much! <3

ARE YOU SERIOUS? You totally deserve it!

(And thank you sending me one right back!)

[riiwrites]

boyfriend!dazai who…

a/n : for my love @perfectlyjollyland who requested this ages ago but i didn’t see until recently because i only pay attention to my inbox! im so sorry ill be checking comments too next time, hope you’re well! <3

a/n : also i hope you’re okay with the pre-boyfriend/before boyfriend part, i just thought that’d be cute i love lovesick!dazai sooo much.. more boyfriend dazai under the cut!!

chuuyas version | atsushis version

dividers used belong to @/benkeibear

masterlist | taglist | main page

pre-boyfriend!dazai who at the start asks you for a double suicide (as per usual), but when you give him the cutest smile and giggle and say no, he knows he’s too deep in now.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who becomes head over heels when he first meets you and now has a new mission, making you reciprocate those feelings.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who loves the cliches, the random ‘anonymous’ love notes on your desk when you’re at work or the random flowers delivered to your workplace/home - he loves it all.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who respects your boundaries if you were to tell him to lay off or if he was making you uncomfortable.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who finally gives up..gives up throwing hints and just decides to take his shot.

“So..say, if a handsome stranger who’s kind of not a stranger since you know him as an acquaintance asks you out because he’s given up with all of the deadpanned hints he’s been giving you for the past few months but he’s kind of scared of being rejected..what would you say?”

You stare him with a few blinks as he looks at you with a great smile on his face, although you can see subtle drops of sweat dripping down the side of his temple.

"..Is this said handsome stranger you, perchance?”

Dazai let’s out a single laugh, placing his hands on his hips.

“Ha! How bold of you, though..I am charmed your first thought of this handsome stranger would be me, bella~” He coyly smirks, closing his eyes in what you can’t tell is either pride or suspense.

You furrow your eyebrows with a little smile, fixing up your paperwork as you place them on the desk. “No, I just figured since it was you who’s been leaving such persistent and eager notes on my desk as of late.”

You watch his expression slightly change as he lets out a cough of embarrassment, locking eyes with you now.

“Well..” He starts, then gives up halfway through.

“..Is it a yes?”

pre-boyfriend!dazai who not only is taken by surprise by your response, but his heart does a few jumps in joy as his efforts became a success, making him now your boyfriend.

boyfriend!dazai who has his hand down your back pocket whenever you two are walking together.

boyfriend!dazai who’s love language is both physical touch and acts of service, always having his hands on you in the littlest way and also providing the most he can to his s/o.

boyfriend!dazai who has the reputation of being quite the flirtatious one, gives it up to his precious s/o.

boyfriend!dazai who googles cheesy and dirty pickup lines to try and rizz you with, always ending them in a winky face.

boyfriend!dazai who sends you little messages every day now that he has your number, little words of affirmations and talks to get you ready for your days.

boyfriend!dazai who if he had a tiktok account he’d make slideshows of you two and repost videos of couples relating to you two.

boyfriend!dazai who you spend all of your holidays with, especially christmas and new years.

boyfriend!dazai who practically lives at your house now, but nobody’s complaining.

boyfriend!dazai who has a box of every little thing you’ve given him, so when he’s feeling down he can look at it and smile.

boyfriend!dazai who tries to keep you away from his past, to protect you from the ugly truth.

boyfriend!dazai who opens up about oda, not all of it but most of it since he believes oda would’ve liked you.

boyfriend!dazai who takes you to the places he has the fondest memories in. the lupin bar, the art gallery, the agency.

boyfriend!dazai who appreciates the little things, as he’s not someone who can afford much he tries to give you the best he can.

boyfriend!dazai who always argues that he loves you more trying to get the last word and when you think you have it, you hear a little mumble of “I love you more” as you walk away.

boyfriend!dazai who loves your hands, tracing the lines of your palm and fingers and creating little shapes on them makes him feel at peace.

boyfriend!dazai who can be possessive but in a good way, he has good reasons to be possessive.

boyfriend!dazai who when he sees someone give you a half lidded smirk or bedroom eyes, he gives them a deadly stare that could imprint on their skull as he wraps an arm around your waist.

boyfriend!dazai who constantly babbles on about you at work with the agency, always telling Atsushi about the cutest things that you did the night before or what you did the day before that.

“Ahh..and the way they just clench their fists at their sides when they are angry with me! Ah~ I could melt..”

“That’s..really nice, Dazai-san..”

“Oh! And the way they grab my hand so tightly when we’re in public ahhh~ I could melt!”

“D-dazai-san..-“

“Ahhh, and the way the-“

boyfriend!dazai who ends up with about 14 wounds all over his body because of kunikidas beatings..kunikida says he’s lucky it wasn’t 15.

boyfriend!dazai who you take care of at his lowest.

boyfriend!dazai who sometimes can’t understand why you put up with him, but you reassure him with words and kisses all over his face.

boyfriend!dazai who peppers your face with kisses back and gives you a small smile despite how sad he can feel.

boyfriend!dazai who watches the fireworks with you and doesn’t think of going out just as beautifully because why would he let such a precious thing slip out of his hands like that?

boyfriend!dazai who doesn’t care about himself or his mental health, but cares the most about yours.

boyfriend!dazai who once felt like he was drowning, but then found his light to the surface who has a smile of diamonds and a heart of gold.

TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @mackereland-slug @heartsfourdazai @iratherowan @onlinewhisper14 @nomnomventi

white = unable to be tagged :(

@/riiwrites - reblogs are highly appreciated ❤︎︎

[buttercupjosh]

The Perfect Proposal (the 4 times you expected that Mat was going to propose + the 1 time he actually did)

(Gif credit to @mattymartin)

word count: 1,968

genres: established relationship, fluff, self-insert

warnings: none

A/N: This story is based off of the song “Joy of My Life” by Chris Stapleton and I make references to this song throughout the story. I highly recommend listening to this song before reading my story. This story is short, sweet and fluffy. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season or even a past season). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. This is not a sequel to Your Favorite Secret (which you can still read and check out and if you want this to be a sequel to that, you can interpret it that way). As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“Someday it will come right on cue.” -Somewhere Love Is Waiting for You from the Schmigadoon TV series soundtrack

Prologue

Meeting Mat changed your life in the best way possible. You took Mat’s breath away when you met up for your very first date and since then, you continued to take his breath away in small doses every time you saw him. He added so much goodness and love into your life and you did the same for him. Mat felt so grateful to have you in his life and even though he made millions, being with you was his greatest treasure. You and Mat deeply appreciated each and every moment you had together, no matter how big or small it was; the two years that you had been together so far were some of your greatest times. You were both so smitten that you always looked at each other with such deep love and devotion and couldn’t get enough of your significant other’s presence. For a while, Mat knew that he wanted to propose to you but he just needed to figure out the best way how to and time when to ask that all-important question.

————————————————————

It finally happened. After 3 challenging years, you finally completed law school and earned your Juris Doctor degree from NYU. All of your friends and family came into town to celebrate your accomplishment. In order to accommodate everyone, Mat graciously rented a large AirBnb house in the Hamptons to host your graduation party. You handled some aspects of the party planning while Mat handled the rest and the party went very well. During the congratulations portion of the evening, Mat wanted to give a quick remark to acknowledge your achievement.

“For the past 2 years, I watched this wonderful person ambitiously work their way through law school. There were a lot of late nights, early mornings and so many case reviews and vocabulary study sessions that I think I could go get a law degree. Y/N, to say that I am proud of you is a massive understatement. My love, you are so amazing and you did it. I love you so much. Because I love you so much, I have a surprise for you.” Mat spoke.

This moment seemed like it was the right time for Mat to ask for your hand in marriage; you had been dating for a while, you lived together and blended your families together, and he had just finished a great speech that made all of the party’s attendees realize how much he was in love with you. Instead, Mat handed you an envelope. Inside the envelope was a copy of a check for the exact amount that you owed in student loans and a letter informing you that your loans were fully paid off. You couldn’t believe what was happening and began to cry.

“How did you do this?”, you mustered out through your tears of joy.

“So you know how you gave me access to your book of important information in case anything happened to you? Well, I asked Liana to call the loan office to pretend to be you and ask for your account balance”, Mat cheesily revealed.

Mat saw firsthand how much distress and frustration law school caused you so he wanted to help out someone he deeply loved by eliminating the stress of having to pay for a student loan; this surprise was better than an engagement ring.

————————————————————

After your graduation party and after the Islanders were eliminated from playoffs, it was the official start of the off-season. This year, it was a milestone birthday for Mat’s dad so the Barzal family decided to do a European summer vacation to celebrate. You were important enough to their family that you had been invited and Liana, Mat’s sister, also invited her best friend to accompany her on the trip.

Hand-in-hand with the man you considered to be the love of your life and his family, for 3 weeks, you explored England, France, Monaco, and Mat’s ancestral homeland of Italy. In England, you indulged in English culture while Mat hilariously attempted a British accent. In France, you shared plenty of kisses with your lover in the City of Love, swooning every time Mat spoke French. In Monaco, you and Mat felt like the protagonists of a spy thriller while hanging out in the city.

Once you arrived in Italy, you got to see a different side of Mat that rarely came out. He had been to Italy several times before but he was thrilled to share all that he knew about that special place with you. Mat glowed differently whenever you got authentic gelato together or when he swam in the waters along the Amalfi Coast. Of course, throughout the trip, you still spent plenty of time with Mat’s parents, sister, and her friend and attended a lovely birthday dinner on a boat for Mat’s dad while visiting Sicily.

On the plane ride traveling back to Canada after your whirlwind European tour, you thought to yourself that you were going to come back to North America with a new jewelry addition to your left hand; you did have a lot of date nights and one-on-one time with Mat on the trip. However, your wonderful boyfriend did get you a gorgeous Cartier love bracelet from the official store in Paris and you were returning back with the gift of good memories that were created with your future in-laws.

————————————————————

The remainder of the off-season went by so quickly; between weddings, summer holidays, and other events all happening, you and Mat were swept in so many different directions. Time flies when you’re having fun and soon, it was already time to return to Long Island for the hockey season.

The usual ups, downs, and chaos of the hockey season lingered in your household but you navigated through it together. As the season went on, you spent a lot of time studying for the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and Universal Bar Exam, which allowed you to become eligible to be admitted to the New York State Bar next year. Even though you had those responsibilities, you still supported Mat at most of his home games. One of the things about Mat that you loved was how he would always quietly tiptoe into your shared home after a late game but he loved how you always waited up for him to come home after every game, regardless of what time he returned. Before you both knew it, the year was winding down and it was almost Christmas time. You and Mat had decided to host Christmas this year and both of your families were coming. This wasn’t the first time that both of your families had been together to celebrate an occasion; they were there all together for your law school graduation earlier in the year and both sides enjoyed being together as one cohesive unit but for some reason, things felt different to you this holiday season.

You spent hours preparing and making sure that everything was right for the arrival of your guests. Christmas came and went wonderfully. It was so nice to have your families together during the holidays. You gifted Mat a new game day tie and a gift card to one of his favorite road restaurants; Mat got you a nice bag to carry all of your work things and a personalized padfolio for you to take all of your legal notes in.

Yes, you were secretly expecting a diamond underneath the tree this year but it was okay because you still got other great gifts as well. Despite wanting something else, you still deeply cherished the time you got to spend with your loved ones.

————————————————————

After the holidays were over, you and Mat settled back into your respective routines until it was All-Star Break. Mat was not chosen for the All-Star Game that year and some of the Islanders players and families decided to go to the Bahamas for their team All-Star Break trip. The time away gave you and Mat both some essential rest and relaxation. At the end of February, you were scheduled to take the Universal Bar Exam but you took a break from studying to enjoy your mini-vacation. You stayed with your lover and company at a phenomenal resort; you swam with dolphins, relaxed at the spa, and ate so much tasty food. You also enjoyed lots of group activities with Mat and his teammates and their respective significant others. During the trip, one of Mat’s best friends’, Anthony, and his long-term girlfriend, Emma got engaged. It stung a little to see someone else reach the relationship milestone you deeply desired to share with Mat and you had expected that it was going to be you and your lover’s turn to share that special romantic moment on this trip, however, you were happy for your friends.

————————————————————

One evening, you came home from a long, exhausting day of work. After passing both the Universal Bar Exam and Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and completing some other requirements, you were admitted to the New York State Bar last month and got a job as a junior attorney. It was a pleasant surprise to see Mat cooking; he was subtly singing in the kitchen and tenderly caring for some handmade pasta. You couldn’t quite make out what song Mat was singing but it didn’t matter what it was because you had caught him singing songs that you’ve played around the house and pop songs from the radio plenty of times before. You smiled to yourself as watched him in his element before slipping away for a much-needed shower.

After you came out of the shower and changed, there was a beautiful plate of pasta waiting for you on the table. Mat tapped deep into his Italian heritage and made a delectable dinner for the two of you. You shared with Mat the details of work and although, he may not quite fully understand everything you were expressing your feelings about, he still listened to you as you rambled on. After dinner concluded, you and Mat were going to share a box of bakery cannolis and watch a movie on the couch but Mat told you to wait at the table and suddenly got up. He returned to the room with a look of nervousness on his face. You asked Mat if he was okay but you could tell that he had something important to say.

“I’ve been holding onto this ring for a while. There were so many other times that I wanted to ask but there’s just something that feels so right about this moment. Sitting here, I realized something very important. I want to spend the rest of my life, making you dinner when I can and listening to you speak. I want to continue to come home from my games to you and wake up next to you. I have the greatest honor of knowing and loving you. You have the sweetest heart that’s made of gold and you are like an angel brought down to Earth from Heaven. I want to be by your side forever. Y/N, you are the joy of my life. Will you marry me?” Mat declared while holding out the engagement ring of your dreams in a Tiffany blue box.

You were speechless because Mat was right; this was the perfect moment. You looked straight into Mat’s green eyes that you admired so dearly and accepted his marriage proposal; you were both super excited to embark on this new journey in your relationship. You and Mat swayed with each other to the sound of your fiance’s voice, serenading you to “Joy Of My Life” by Chris Stapleton, the same song Mat was singing to himself earlier. Patience was an important virtue and all of that waiting paid off at the right time.

[missswritesalot]

Yall tumblr was being a bitch and would literally not let me make a new post for whatever reason. It also deleted this ask from my inbox, thank heavens i had a screenshot. Enjoy, will edit it later to make it more medieval :)

Your marriage to Robb Stark didn’t come with a husband’s love, but nonetheless brought with it all the duties of the Lady of Winterfell. You felt robbed, neither your father not husband ever spared you a second thought. Yet you dutifully married Robb, and now were running his household.

You sighed as you helped one of the servants count sacks of grain in the great yard of Winterfell. The southern houses were yet to send the grain you bought. There was meat to be salted and firewood collected. Winter was coming, you thought worriedly, and there was still so much to do.

A frown fell on your face as you realized you were thinking like one of them.

Two months passed since your wedding. You thought you would get used to Robb openly loving Talisa. Yet these last few weeks you found yourself more quick to tears than you ever were. You didn’t care about Robb per se, but that he was your husband and shared his bed with a wench from the free cities.

You couldn’t even plead for an annulment, as you had consummated your marriage the night of the wedding. You remember feeling his caring touch, murmured apologies as he tenderly made love to you. He was determined but acted out of duty, not passion. You felt a spark of hope then, in the throes of pleasure. Perhaps now that he had you, Robb would be true and send Talisa away.

That hope was fleeting. He slept in her tent every night after that, for the rest of the war. Your broken heart hardened towards him, your humiliation turned to resentment.

When he won the war and you were seated next to him at the feast, you had foolishly hoped Robb would honor you on returning to Winterfell, and shun Talisa, but she remained by his side in your place. You felt despair, there was no light at the end of this tunnel.

You felt increasingly miserable this morning, and felt very light headed too. You had not been eating these last couple of weeks, and woke each morning retching. A wave of nausea rolled over you now.

“My lady, are you alright?” You heard a serf question as you faltered. You felt him guide you to a pile of hay but you were dizzy and sweaty, and fell into the inviting void.

When you awoke you were in bed propped up by pillows.

Catelyn was sitting next to you, and gave you a tentative smile when you looked at her.

“How do you feel?” She asked you gently. She patted you on the head. You felt too ill to reply.

The maester walked in and asked you a few questions. You answered curtly, you didn’t care for any of the northerners, not even him.

“My lady, I have examined you while asleep. I am happy to say you are with child,” he reported softly.

Your mouth fell open and your head whipped to look at him. “What?” You whispered. Catelyn squeezed your hand reassuringly.

You had given up on all hopes of motherhood when Robb went back to Talisa from the second night. You felt tears well in your eyes.

“Are you certain?” You whispered.

“We will know more as the months progress. The child will come before winter starts, if what we know is true.” He said, gently smiling.

You started to laugh. The hopeless despair ebbed away out of you. You were filled with joy so pure you started to cry.

“I thought it could never happen to me,” you muttered, unable to control yourself. Catelyn cringed but gave you a sympathetic glance.

You knew she felt bad for you and sympathized with you. She thought her husband’s bastard was the end of the world, but her son proved to be far worse.

You spent the rest of the day in bed, the maester’s instructions, and slightly rubbed your belly.

“Just you and me now, love,” you said, smiling to yourself.

It was Catelyn who told Robb that you were carrying his child. When the maester revealed the news, she had hoped it was because Robb finally took you to bed. But he seemed surprised, and told her not since the wedding night had he touched you.

Robb drowned in regret that night. Talisa tried to touch him, to hug him, but he shrugged her away and went to peer out the window, feeling the crisp northern air. He wanted to go to the only other person who felt the same happiness as him, but you had chosen to give up your right of informing him about your baby.

The months that followed made Robb crumble with guilt whenever your paths crossed.

You were glowing at dinner one night, smiling and answering all sorts of questions.

Your face looked surprised all of a sudden, and Robb looked at you worriedly. You grabbed Catelyn’s hand and let her feel your babe move. She laughed, blue eyes lighting up, and assured you it was alright, your baby was strong.

Talisa saw the longing and pining in Robb’s eyes. He wished to feel his son kick too. Instead, he looked dejected and regretted the bed he made for himself by hurting you. He apologized to Talisa that night. He paid her handsomely for the inconvenience and sent her away back to the south where she could reunite with the Sept.

As the months passed you grew in size and walked funnily. You read to your child often, and you and Catelyn became the best of friends. You looked forward to the birth, sure you were anxious, but it would be worth it to hold your child.

When the maesters suggested you lie in bed till the arrival of the little lord, Robb noticed your continual absence at dinner.

“Can I go meet her, mother?” He asked Catelyn one night as she walked out of your chamber.

“Why do you hurry? Perhaps you must wait until the child is grown and you are on your deathbed?” Catelyn said sharply, and turned on her heels. It took a beat for Robb to register that she was being sarcastic.

“It is my child too. My first. My hier.” Robb protested, following her.

“And yet while she struggles, you have not acknowledged it, nor have you uttered a kind word to her.” She said sharply.

“I- I-“ Robb was at a loss. He didn’t imagine you could want his company in your delicate situation. He felt a sharp spasm in his stomach as his guilt grew, he knew he took the easy way out by assigning responsibility to you, when he was to blame.

“I am ashamed you are my son,” Catelyn said finally. Robb watched her go, his heart sinking in his chest.

He didn’t sleep at all that night, and the next, and the nights after that. One day, he couldn’t take any more of the anguish and decided to pay you a visit. It was the middle of the night and the whole castle slept.

Your door creaked as he pushed it open, and to his surprise he saw you still awake. You were resting against the furs, half sitting, and had a book propped up on your swollen belly.

“Lady Y/N,” Robb said softly. He had always called you Lady Y/N or Lady Fray.

“My lord,” you said, confused. You no longer felt any anger when you saw him, but he was the last person you expected to see at this hour. Let alone in his breeches with a half open robe thrown on top.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he questioned gently. He carefully approached your bed till he sat on the edge, over the furs. You unwillingly noticed the strength in his shoulders, the hard lines of his abdomen. Maybe childbirth would lessen your desire, you hoped.

“I cannot breathe when I lay down. It’s like he rests on my lungs,” you said, affection infusing your voice as you spoke of your child.

“I’m sorry to hear,” Robb said softly. “I know I have not acted the ideal husband-“  He let out a self depreciating laugh.

“An understatement.” You said. He looked sad at that. Sad and pathetic.

He leaned forward and kissed your brow. “I cannot express how deeply sorry I am,” he whispered.

“I will try to atone for my sins. For you and for our child.”

“Robb,” you said quietly, eyes wide. “you can start by calling the maesters. I think he wants to come out.”

Robb sprung back and you noticed he looked younger than ever. His hair fell into his face.

“Now?” He asked, “Are you alright?”

You felt another sharp cramp hit. “The maesters, Robb. Now!”

Robb didn’t attend to his duties the next day. He sat outside your chambers, propped up against the wall with his legs spread out in front of him.

The maesters and even his mother warned that first babies were slow to come, he had better go about his duties. But his head was clouded with thoughts of you. He felt ice shards pierce his heart whenever he heard you moan or cry, but the silence in between was far worse to endure.

He prayed to the old gods and to the new that if you lived, he would spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

Robb didn’t wish to see anyone, and no one could convince him to go wait elsewhere. At last after sun down he heard the sounds of your baby. He waited to be let in, to see his child and heir.

It felt like ages before the door opened. Catelyn’s smiling face beckoned him inside. He found you seated on the bed again, looking drained but shining with pride and joy.

“Your daughter,” you said shyly to him, still looking at her. You rocked her as she let out a small cry. She did a tiny yawn and you cooed in response, your heart exploding with love.

“I’m sorry about how cruelly I treated you.” Robb apologized.

“Robb-“ you said, trying to stop him, but he cut you off.

“Neither you nor I entered this marriage willingly, but I have been most unfair. I do not wish to dishonor you. Love is something we build brick by brick, not momentary passion.”

“Why now?” You asked, confused. “Why now after all this time?”

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you.” You gasped.

“I know you do not share my feelings but we have a lifetime to correct it.” He continued, smiling cheekily.

You grinned and rolled your eyes. You were stuck with him, for better or worse.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Harwin Strong x reader = well-fucked. (pleaseee?)

Lemon Cake (Harwin Strong x Reader)

Summary: Harwin’s wife is a tough crowd.

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Fake orgasm, then a real one. Communication with your partner is sexy. Talks of sweets because I am starving.

A/N: This has been sitting in my inbox for a long time, and I was thinking of writing a sex marathon for it, but then I had this thought… What about a reader that struggles to orgasm? That’s common for women. I thought that Harwin would be the one who cares the most out of all the HOTD men.

You do not come to the marriage bed an innocent. You are a noble girl from The Reach, and so, no expense was spared for your education. Your Lady Mother had made sure you came prepared.

So that’s why, in the middle of the act, as your new Lord Husband pushes and grunts, rocking his hips against yours, you suddenly clench down. You clench and unclench, and give a few undignified noises, and then go limp in his arms.

Pulling back from you, Ser Harwin, or just Harwin, as he has asked you to call him, looks perplexed.

You grin. You must have done well if he looks so amazed. Remembering your Lady Mother's advice, you smile at him.

“Thank you. That felt nice.”

“I am afraid…” Harwin frowns. “Did you… Um. Was that supposed to be…?”

Perhaps he needs help. Perhaps no other woman had done that for him, although you knew it was likely Harwin had his first time with a whore, and they were much better at pretending than you were.

“I finished. I had a great time, husband. You should be proud of yourself.” You smile at him, trying to get it to not sound rehearsed.

You had not, in fact, had a great time. It had been mostly an uncomfortable time. You weren’t totally lying, either. Some of his earlier caresses had been pleasant. But no matter how much he had prepared you for it, the breach of your maidenhead had hurt. Your body felt like it was not meant to stretch that way.

Then, you were too in your head to properly enjoy it, wondering if you were pleasing him. No matter if he was trying his best to please you, you were thinking about how your body looked, how you sounded. You just wanted him to be happy.

Harwin had been a wonderful betrothed. Calm, gentle and reassuring. He had taken time listening to you and getting to know you. Despite being very different from you, he had partaken in your hobbies and interests, to get closer to you. You felt he deserved a reward for it, something you could give to him in exchange for his kindness.

Hence, the false peak. Your Lady Mother had told you that men liked that sort of thing. They felt proud, when they could boast about how good they made their ladies feel. And men were less likely to stray when they found their wives fun to bed. You intended to be a joy.

“My lady.” Harwin pulled out of your body. You frowned, confused. “You certainly did not.”

“Yes, I did.” Your voice is gentle. Perhaps he needs extra reassurance. You have no problem feeding his ego, considering he has been really nice to you since you were engaged. “It was wonderful.”

“You did not. I will not ask you why you felt the need to fake it, but I will ask that you do not lie to me.” His tone is stern. You wrap yourself with the sheets, like a scolded child. Harwin stays silent for a moment, before placing a hand on your back. “Did you really enjoy yourself, or are you telling me what you think I want to hear?”

“I was…”

“Be honest, wife. Remember your vows.” He interrupts, before you can think of a better lie. Harwin has a harsh tone that makes you understand exactly why he was made Commander of the Citywatch. You decide to drop the pretense, then.

The two of you don’t know each other well enough for you to know if it is safe to keep lying. Is Harwin good at catching lies? Is he observant? You don’t know. And in those cases, instead of digging a deeper hole, honesty tends to be the best policy.

“I wanted you to be happy, and proud.” Your tone is soft, still facing away from him. He lays down behind you, spooning you, and presses a kiss to your nape.

It’s a strange feeling. This was not how your wedding night was supposed to go. You had expected physical closeness and intimacy, but not this kind.

“I am certainly not.” But despite the harsh words, Harwin rubs his nose against your nape, sweetly. “Did you enjoy any of it?”

His tone is genuine. Curious, and not scolding. Perhaps, even the slightest bit guilty.

You are not sure of how to put it. It’s also not something you feel comfortable discussing. You are thankful for the fact that your back is to him, and he can’t see your expression. It takes you a while to have the courage to speak.

“I did, at first. But when you… When you entered me, it hurt. It was pleasant, I guess, after a while, but not really… Groundbreaking.”

It’s so awkward to say. You know this is not proper conversation, not even for a wife and a husband. The act is not meant to cause you any pleasure. It’s meant for Harwin to enjoy and to give you children. No more.

“Oh?” But Harwin doesn’t sound angry or scandalized. His tone is one of intrigue. You can feel his lips curling into a smile against the skin of your nape. “Do tell.”

You wonder how you could possibly explain. It finally occurs to you. You can compare it to something he will understand.

“It was like having a cake. Not a lemon cake, just a plain cake. Good, just not…”

Harwin chuckles, making you laugh too. The feel of the little huffs of air he lets up against your neck is quite ticklish.

“I get it. But I don't need you to fake your pleasure. I rather know I am not doing it right.”

“Is there a way for it to be enjoyable?” You look at him, over your shoulder. Curious, this time. If it was some other man, one less kind, you wouldn’t ask. “A right way?”

“Let me teach you.” Harwin whispers in your ear. His hands start mapping over your body. He caresses your neck, then your chest. His hands cup your breasts, softly massaging them.

It feels like before. Good. Warm. Arousal slowly starts to make all your hairs stand on end, breasts getting heavier, center going slick. Almost unaware of it, you moan. You can tell the situation is affecting Harwin too. His hardness, which had softened while you were cuddling, is back with a vengeance. It presses insistently against your behind.

Harwin trails a hand over your stomach, palm wide and warm. He lifts one of your legs, so it rests on his thigh, leaving you open to him. You sigh, sweetly.

“Like that?” He asks you, before lowering his hand towards something that makes you feel like you are on fire. His thumb taps lightly at it, and you moan. “That’s your pearl. If you rub it, it feels good.”

“Yes. Just like that.” Your head lolls over his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It suddenly isn’t enough. “The… Could you…?”

“Tell me.” Harwin kisses your jaw. “I want honest opinions.”

“Take your shirt off.” As Harwin shifts to comply with your orders, you notice he is hard again, poking at your lower back. “And… Um. Could we try again?”

“Try what?” He rubs softly at your pearl, making you mewl near his ear. Harwin chuckles, darkly.

You stare at him over your shoulder. You feel so embarrassed, you wish the earth would open and swallow you whole. Harwin grins, and does absolutely nothing. Even the fingers he has on your pearl stop.

“I want you inside me.” You finally say, when just being held starts being too little for you.

“Are you sure?” He presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers lowering towards your entrance. As soon as his hands are moving again, your hips buck against them, impatiently.

“You said there was a way for it to be pleasant. I want that. Show me.” Your voice comes out a little breathless.

“You are a wonder.” Harwin kisses you, softly. “My brave, gorgeous girl. I am so sorry for what happened before.”

“It’s alright.” But just as you are speaking, you feel him lining the two of you up. You do your best effort not to tense up or expect pain. Your words melt into a soft sigh as Harwin enters you.

Just as he did before, he stays still. The stretch is not nearly as uncomfortable as it used to be, but it’s still quite considerable. You doubt you will ever get used to his size. It feels as if he is pinning you into place. A bit overwhelmed, you search for his hand for reassurance.

“I was a bit overeager, before.” Harwin kisses your temple. “I wanted you so much, I wasn’t paying the attention you deserve.”

His hand caresses your ribs, softly. It tickles, and you can’t help but laugh. It prompts a chain reaction. Your laughter makes you clench up, which makes him groan and makes you laugh even more.

“That’s flattering.”

Your laughter buys you a much-needed respite. No longer does it feel like you are being pulled apart. Still, Harwin’s sad puppy look gets to you.

“I was too in my head. Just not in the moment.” You explain, not wanting him to feel bad about it. Because it’s the truth. You were the one who decided to fake a peak when there was no need for it. You have heard many ladies cried and yelled during their wedding nights, and their husbands didn’t even bat an eyelash. Harwin was not that kind of man. Had you been truly suffering, from what you had learned about him, he would have stopped.

If you had just allowed your face to show its true emotions, you were sure Harwin would have done something. But you had been too embarrassed and too caught up on making it good for him.

“I can keep you grounded, if you wish.” Harwin teases, kissing your cheek. His hips roll gently against yours, as if searching for something. Something he manages to find because you nearly jump from his arms when he touches something inside you that makes you see stars. “There?”

“There.”

He hugs you from behind, keeping the angle of his hips. This time, is more gentle, but much more precise. It feels good. Once again, it feels pleasant. Good. But nothing is happening. You start to get anxious. Why can’t you just get there? Will Harwin get bored with trying to indulge you? You would rather not be a burden to him, or get in between him and his pleasure. Perhaps it’s just not for you.

Harwin pulls you in for a kiss, without stopping the rocking of his hips.

“Are you still with me?”

You look at him, a little sad. You promised to be truthful, but you would rather not hurt his feelings. He is trying hard to please you, you can feel it. But it’s just not working.

“No. I am so sorry, husband. I am really trying, just…”

“That’s alright. Do you want me to stop?��� Harwin kisses your cheek, not sounding too hurt. You risk a peek at his expression. His face is calm, encouraging, even.

“No.” You mutter. It comes out a little too sad because he boops your nose, making you smile on reflex.

“Here. Let me…” Harwin shifts you, from your side to sitting on top of him. The suddenness of the movement makes you yelp. “Use me.”

“What?” You cannot believe your ears. Hesitantly, you place a hand on his chest, bracing yourself. He smiles up at you, encouragingly.

“For your pleasure. Do what feels right. And if your thighs get tired, or your hips feel tight, tell me. I’ll help you.”

“I feel silly.” You complain, grabbing at his member. It feels warm and slick in your hand. Harwin makes a small noise at the contact, and you smile, sinking down on him.

It feels different immediately. It’s both deeper and increasingly intimate. But you feel self-conscious, staring him right in the eyes. There is no way you will be able to fake your pleasure now, not with his eyes on yours.

Shyly, you turn your head away from him.

“Don’t. You look gorgeous. The prettiest woman I have ever seen. “ His hand is gentle against your cheek, encouraging you to look him in the eye.

Harwin smiles softly. You smile back. And then, you arch your hips, searching for the right angle. He watches you, eager to learn how to please you. And you watch right back.

His face, going slack in pleasure. The way he grunts when you slowly get up and down, rocking your hips just so to get friction on your pearl. The way sweat starts to gather at his temples, making his hair stick down. It fills you with a secret thrill, pleasing him.

You want, no, need more. You rub at your pearl, yet it feels too rough to be enjoyable. Almost too dry. You whine. Harwin catches the hint immediately. He takes your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm, softly, before taking two of your fingers into his mouth. You startle a little, both by the contrast between the lewd action and the tenderness he treats you with, and how much into it he seems to be.

Harwin releases your fingers with a wet pop, giving you a naughty grin. You don’t need any further prompting. You feel almost uncomfortably wet now, after his display, but you still use the fingers he sucked to rub at your pearl.

It’s as if you are burning up. You are hot with need, thighs clenching and stomach tensing in preparation for something. Arousal thrums on your nerves, echoes in your bones. You are so close, a wave just about to crash against the shore.

Your eyes fall closed. It’s an impossible thing, you know. But you swear you can feel your pulse, beating under your fingertips, in that tight little bundle of nerves. You are starting to get tired, and you cling to Harwin’s shoulders desperately.

“That's it. Just like that, love. You are doing so good for me. Just a bit more.” His hand rubs your flank, softly. He is trying to encourage you, but you want to scream out in frustration. You are so close.

You grunt, thighs burning with exertion. It makes your rhythm falter. You sob.

“You can do it. Give it to me.” But you clearly can’t. Not on your own. So Harwin plants his hips and thrusts, aiding you along.

You moan loudly.

“Like that. More.”

He is quick to obey, helping you bounce up and down. As you finally, finally reach the peak both of you have worked so hard for, you lean in and kiss him.

“I love you.” And it's glorious. The best feeling in the world, warm in your stomach, body taut from head to toe. The wave finally crashing against the shore, a faint buzzing in your ears.

“I love you too.” Harwin says, squeezing your hands. He waits until you open your eyes and catch your breath, before rolling you over. “My turn.”

You laugh. He thrusts several more times, before falling on top of you. His face is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, and you tell him so, enjoying his blush.

You stay like that for a while, before you get too impatient. You wriggle a little, feeling sticky all over, but Harwin just pulls you closer.

“So. Lemon cake or just cake?”

“Lemon cake. Definitely.”

[genericpuff]

Why is the art so unappealing in lore Olympus now Persephone looks like a highlighter and maybe it’s just me but the proportions like the fingers in arms are soul over the place I don’t think they used to be this bad. Am I just looking at it with nostalgia or am I crazy ?

Honestly, nostalgia does play a huge part in it, even to this day there are times I look back on old S1 panels and go-

Actually here's a great example that literally just happened yesterday in the ULO Discord that nearly had me on the floor LOL This is from Episode 70:

Like I didn't even believe that that was real until I was told what episode it was from and I was just. Astounded and flabbergasted. The over-shading of the blanket that just makes it look like a really bad edit. Insane.

And yeah, there are a lot of old panels that hit different now that the rose-colored glasses have been removed, crushed, and thrown into the trash compactor.

I think that's why it makes it all the more amusing when people come into my inbox and ask me "wait, why did you like LO to begin with?? It's always been ugly as shit, I think you're just romanticizing it" because like... there's something to be said about art and subjectivity, even if something is ugly to one person doesn't mean it isn't beautiful to someone else. It's why I try not to be too mean towards the fans of this comic for still enjoying it, because while I definitely have strong opinions about how "LO has gotten worse" and what kind of following Rachel has cultivated (cough cough), there are also just as equally valid arguments that LO has never begin good to begin with that I can't necessarily disagree with now that I'm looking back on it with a more critical eye.

That said, there's tons of media that I enjoy that is objectively awful. Like y'all, you don't need to take my opinions about a dumb pink x blue fantasy romance comic seriously, I like Starfox Adventures-

Like yeah it's a badly made rushed piece of shit that was developed right on the ass end of Rare's glory days and was really an original IP (Dinosaur Planet) that got Frankenstein'd into a Starfox game so it could "sell better" for Nintendo, but I don't give a fuck, I love Starfox Adventures and some day I wanna be in the top 10 speedrunner leaderboards for it, which I know doesn't mean much because no one is speedrunning Starfox, but I do and no one can take that away from me dammit-

Anyways. Lore Olympus has, in many regards, always had "bad art". But "bad art" can and should still be enjoyed by those who find joy in it.

And in LO's case, the world it existed in when it launched was a lot smaller than it is now - more specifically, the world of Webtoons. We can look back and see how 'bad' LO looks and reads now because there are genuinely way better comics surrounding it. It was unique and refreshing and experimental back then... now it's just "that stupid blue and pink comic for horny teenagers".

In most cases I would consider that "cringing in hindsight" feeling a good thing because normally it means something has grown and that it seeming "bad" in hindsight would mean that it's outgrown itself and moved onto bigger things. But LO has the more unique problem of "its current stuff is shit and it's making us want the old stuff more, even if the old stuff wasn't good either". In that regard, LO is closer to being like Harry Potter. Remember when The Cursed Child came out at the height of Rowling being exposed for being a TERF and even people who liked Harry Potter didn't like The Cursed Child because it was just objectively worse overall (with or without Rowling's bullshit attached)? It made a lot of people go back and re-read / rewatch Harry Potter with a more objective lens and go "wait a minute guys, I think we only adored these books so much because we were 12 when we read them". Often times it's the good memories we have surrounding certain things that make us have the opinion about them that we do.

Of course, LO is definitely not as politically weaponized as Harry Potter is, so that's where that comparison ends. But my point is that LO is definitely in a situation where it's been riding off the same privileges it had back in 2018 - having an 'experimental' art style while also utilizing tropes and characters that were VERY popular at the time (remember that 2017-18 was when Tumblr was at its height of H x P "Hades was a chill accountant guy who wore socks and sandals and didn't cheat on his wife like Zeus did" fantasizing) - and thinks that those same tricks and tropes will still work today.

Because of this, the art in LO really, really hasn't aged well, even the stuff that we look back on fondly. But I think it's the panels that we specifically think of when remembering "old LO" - the ones that stuck in our memories the most - that are the ones that make us miss or just not care about the panels that don't look good (the panels that make people question why we ever liked it to begin with).

We liked it because of how it made us feel to look at panels like these-

Those genuinely wonderful panels that we think back on the most don't exist separately from the bad panels, they exist in spite of them. Even if we can look back on panels like these and pick out problems in the lineart or the proportions or the color travelling outside of the lines, that can't and shouldn't change how those panels made us feel at some point or another. And that's why when people ask me "why were you even into LO in the first place" I don't have any one answer, because I can't fully explain how something made me feel to justify why it's good to someone who can see from the outside - without rose-colored glasses - that it evidently isn't. It's very much a "you had to be there" type of thing.

Unfortunately, nowadays even the 'best' LO panels in S3 still don't come close to what the S1 panels accomplished - because for many of us, the rose-colored glasses are gone, we can't appreciate the good among the bad because we know now how bad it truly is and so the good just feels like wasted attempts at trying to recreate something it can no longer be. It "came back wrong" so to speak.

LO came back just regular. But our journey to resurrecting it changed us to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to us. Sorry dude.

This is still probably one of my favorite panels out of the entirety of S3 for being as close to "old LO" as I've seen since S2, and even it feels like a mistake, an accident, how could a panel like this exist in S3 when so much of it is a dumpster fire? It's like a flower growing in the ruins of an apocalyptic wasteland.

But wasn't that always the case? Isn't that 'always' what LO has been, since the very beginning? A poorly cobbled together mess of writing and panels that, every now and then, manages to leave an impression that makes you feel something? Did we ever truly know LO? Or have we just been relying entirely on an idea of it that we've built up in our heads that when it does do exactly what it's evidently always done (even if not made apparent until looking back on it in hindsight) we think it "came back wrong"?

[2frosty4you]

Hi! I wasn't sure if your doing requests right now so I'm so sorry if you aren't, feel free to ignore. I was wondering if you could write a fluffy headcanon list/mini story about how the mercs would react to a teen reader who's super shy and skittish gifting them trinkets they have made out of clay?

Hope this made sense! English is not my native language. Thank you so much.

-🎾

Mercs reacting to skittish teen!reader giving them clay trinkets [PLATONIC]

| All mercs & Skittish TEEN!reader | 945 words | masterlist | request-box |

AW saw this in my inbox and had to do it cause i also love making things out of clay <3

Ty for the request 🎾anon!!

╔═════════════════╗

Scout:

He's never been close with you, since you're always hanging around engineer and heavy more.

He kinda notices how its like you avoid him, he just wants a friend

But if you were to walk up to him and shakily place a small clay trophy with a baseball bat peaking from inside of it he'd be elated.

I'd say he's jumping for joy, and is probably crying when you hand it to him because he had just lost the team the match few hours before.

Would shove it into the other mercs faces, pointing at it laughing that they're not cool enough to have gotten a trophy.

Keeps it on his window sill next to a photo of him and his ma.

Soldier:

(Skittish kid vs Loud USA citizen who would win)

Jokes, but soldier wouldn't get along too well with you if you're always hiding away from him and keeping lengths away.

But when you and pyro were hanging out, you had found clay heavy had brought you and were just laying on the floor of pyro's room making little clay figures.

And you had made this poor looking eagle, with a misshapen American flag on it.

And when you offered it to soldier he was ecstatic, and by ecstatic I mean holding it up to the sky laughing in pride.

Even if the eagle looks like a fat dove he loves it, (USA! USA! USA!)

Keeps it in one of his pockets

Pyro:

Pyro gets along with you, they're a tad strange but easy to hang around

Since pyro loves to do crafts I expect them to already have made many things for you.

But when you gift them a clay Balloonicorn they cry

cradling it in their hands and sobbing.

They'd place it down carefully and then hug you, like bone crushing type hug.

Would try and make something for you as well

Engineer:

He's like your dad, and through your shyness you've stuck to him.

He's an engineer (duh) so he's probably made some things to just make your life easier

He lets you stay in his workshop if the rest of the team overwhelm you.

One day he came back from a losing battle he looked down at his work desk to see a small shotty looking sentry figure, clearly made out of clay and handpainted. A little poorly, as it looked like it was constantly painted over and fixed up.

But he loves it, keeps it on a newly built shelf so it doesn't get damaged.

He's a proud father

Heavy:

You hand him a small Sasha made out of clay and he doesn't know what to do.

He'll chuckle and pat you on the back, thanking you saying you did a great job.

You already were about to nervously dart away when he didn't respond for a while.

He keeps it safe, making sure no one touches it. Like it was the real Sasha.

Second proud father

Demoman:

Stopped drinking too much when you came to the base, to make you feel a bit more comfortable.

He doesn't let you in his workspace because he doesn't want you to get hurt by any explosives or harsh chemicals. (heavy would kill him if that happened)

You make him this small eyelander out of clay, it wasn't the right colour and its a little misshapen but its the thought that counts.

If the eyelander mentions anything wrong with it, he's locking it away again

Sniper:

He doesn't like kids, doesn't matter if you're a teen, scout is enough to make him feel like he's 30+ (even if sniper is the youngest merc)

You are shy, and like to hang around outside under some trees to get away from scout

And near there is where he likes to practice his aiming, and where his perch is

Few weeks later, he comes up to his perch to go on lookout, and at the bottom of the ladder is an owl figure.

He'd be confused, but could see you peaking from around a tree.

Keeps it in his van, on the dashboard stuck down with superglue.

Medic:

He's a little too unhinged for you

But you like his birds so you hang around just to watch them/hang out with them.

He'd show you each bird, joyful when he can show off his pets and second in command.

Medic would be holding like 3+ small dove clay trinkets which you placed into his hands and skidded off, cooing at them as he would show them all to the actual birds.

Archimedes would try to eat one

Shows them to heavy with pride

Keeps them in his office, constantly batting Archimedes away while he tries to eat them.

Spy:

He doesn't like you

And you never see him so its hard if you're going to make anything for him

He doesn't like teenagers, and with your skittish nature you're always already across the room when someone other than Heavy, Engineer or Demoman is trying to talk with you.

When he notices the other mercs with these clay trinkets he snobbishly dismisses it, saying the maker clearly was a child.

And when he gets into his smoker room there is a little clay trinket on his mantel place, a spy crab.

Wouldn't admit it to anyone but it's stayed there since it was put there and he cannot fathom to remove it.

╚═════════════════╝

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you see any typos pls tell me! If you wanna be tagged when i post next do tell me!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Tag List: @therobloxmafia Posted 31.05.2024

[sturionic]

hey, you said your inbox is open and I was curious if you have any ideas for someone who can't get involved irl in things like protests and local antifa groups (physically disabled and incapacitatingly severe anxiety), and who can't get involved in online activism beyond reblogging stuff (personal reasons, difficult to explain)?

I've been considering trying to put together care packages for local unhoused people, but I'm poor and I'd have to convince someone to help me put everything together so idk how well that will go.

I don't want to sit around doing nothing.

Hey anon! I am very glad you reached out, and this is a question I get asked a lot by people IRL, so you are very much not alone here.

I think the first order of business is expanding your definition of activism. We have been done a great disservice by having activism framed for us as protests, charity, & singular heroes making speeches and changing hearts through celebrity. In reality, the smaller actions in your community have a much greater impact; and most of all, the things you personally have to offer make the greatest impact.

This diagram is specifically geared towards climate action, but really applies to all activism:

For you to be an effective activist/volunteer/community member, it's crucial to find the centre of that diagram, or else you're on a one-way ticket to burnout. Don't get caught up in trying to judge which is the most "important" activism, because that answer will be different for everyone. The most important thing you can do for the world is the thing you can do.

I've done lots of volunteering and volunteer management in multiple fields, and there really is lots of choice out there for things that suit you; anything from sorting files quietly in a back room to using computer knowledge (often VERY absent in community groups lol) to help with maintaining websites & promoting community events. One of my personal favourite volunteer shifts was acting as a helper to the organizers of a queer electronic music festival, running a "build your own synthesizer" workshop. Literally I was just ticking off names on a registration sheet and doing setup and fetching things, but it was one of the coolest things I've had the joy to be involved in.

The other plus here is that activists in a given city all usually have some social overlap. If you email, say, your local community centre, explain your interests & circumstances & skills, and ask what you could do - they might not have anything right that moment, but likely someone there will know a different group that needs something similar, or they'll have ideas for who you could try next. Even if you're not finding a lot online right away, have faith in the (slightly haphazard) offline community org social scene. Same deal if you get involved with something and realize it's not your thing after all - just be honest, and ask for help in finding something more suited to you. It's so, so common, and no one's going to get angry with you for wanting to help in ways you're better suited for.

Don't mistake me when I nudge you towards volunteering - there's a certain way that well-meaning (usually) liberals treat volunteering, like they're 'donating' their time as charity, and I am not advocating for that. I'm just saying that you really don't have to reinvent the wheel. There are structures in place run by people who know well how to do it. Part of the importance is the work itself; the file-sorting, the computer help, whatever. But another part is building connections with the people around you, and also letting those people benefit from the privilege of knowing you. And that will happen naturally over time. The muscle will grow as you use it more, even if you need to start with something that feels to you like it might not be enormously significant in the grand scheme of things. Maybe you move on to 'bigger' things, or maybe you gain new perspective and realize just how significant your contributions are after all.

[flowerandblood]

Glass Cuts Deepest (3)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, trauma, mention of sexual harassment, violence, swearing, self-destructive behavior ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

What she had done echoed hugely throughout the university. Some looked at her in awe, some in horror wondering why she had done it, whether she really thought he was so good to put up with his awful behaviour.

"What if he keeps humiliating you? Or if he hits you?" Lysa asked as they walked together to their joint Renaissance art history class. She shrugged her shoulders, feeling light and happy.

"I'm only there for a trial, for a month. If I find I don't like it there, I'll go to another workshop. And if he does something to me, I'll report it to the police straight away." She replied briefly, taking it for granted.

If he violated her personal space in such a way she wasn't going to stand idly by, but for some reason she felt that if she respected his boundaries he wouldn't do anything to her.

She hopped up on her bed with joy when she saw an email on her inbox from Cregan informing her of a task for everyone to complete, covered by the competition Professor Targaryen had mentioned at their first meeting.

Good morning, congratulations to you once again and I am sending below the details of the project you need to complete. The first overview sketches are to be made at a scale of 1:5, only the one selected will be made at a scale of 1:1. The project includes 3 windows, each with 8 rectangular quarters. The dimension of the entire window is 10x2 m, the gaps between the quarters are 10 cm on each side. The Bishop would like these three quarters to include a representation of the Mother of God with the Child with a white dove above her, surrounded by the Twelve Aspotols. If you have any questions, I remain at your disposal Cregan

She immediately got to work, calculating the size of each of the quarters on A3 sheets of paper, thinking about how she would like to arrange it, how to show it.

She first thought of a baroque representation, with figures in motion, Our Lady in the centre, the apostles surrounding her as if they were floating towards the sky in clouds together with her.

When she had refined this design sufficiently she decided to take the opportunity that her professor was working on the other side of the room, standing, as always, with his back to her.

She approached him, stopping at an appropriate distance, and grunted quietly, wanting to let him know of her presence.

He glanced at her coolly out of the corner of his eye without ceasing his work, cutting a piece of glass in a confident, fluid motion with the loud swish of a diamond blade.

He picked it up and tapped the back of the handle with the special rounded end against the part of the glass he didn't need, and it broke at the point of cut to form exactly the shape he wanted.

"Lay it down here." He said indifferently, pointing with his chin to an empty spot on the illuminated table next to the glass he was working on.

She placed the piece of paper in front of him and stepped back, waiting anxiously for his opinion, feeling her heart pounding fast as she saw her year mate glance in their direction.

Professor Targaryen cast a quick look at what she had been preparing for the past two days, his face expressing absolutely nothing.

"Overdone and tacky. This is not a competition for the most pompous baroque stained glass. Don't show me things like that again." He said briefly, turning back to his work, and she nodded, tightening her lips and returned to her table, trying to swallow his words and not cry.

She looked at her project again and thought with regret that he was probably right.

It was contrived, as if she wanted to prove to everyone that she could create the most surprising and complicated design.

And after all, it was supposed to be simply the best.

She started to look through more classical stained glass representations from France, Germany, Spain and the UK at home. She noticed with interest that static figures depicted with just the right cuts of glass were suddenly gaining a lot of expression and she thought this was the way out.

She took inspiration for her pose of the Mother of God with the Child from Raphael's Sistine Madonna, but gave her face and hands a softer, more slender expression, her robes arranged in a Gothic manner, with strong creases and folds.

Our Lady stood in the rays of the colour of the setting sun, as if emerging from among the clouds, from the left, through the bottom of the composition, to the right the apostles emerged from behind the window frames, looking at her in silent awe, the whole thing seemed to her calm and solemn, warm.

She made another attempt to approach him. She settled on the opposite side of his table, looking at him expectantly, and he lifted his impatient gaze to her, his lips tightening.

"Are you sure you want to show me this?" He asked warningly, as if he wanted to make sure that if he saw something similar to what he had seen last time again, he would lose patience with her.

She nodded, swallowing quietly.

She really liked this project.

She laid it in front of him − the lead outline and the linear layer were painted with a pen using black ink, the colours of the glass painted with watercolours.

He stopped in mid-motion, looking at what she had drawn − she could see that he was thinking strenuously, his gaze roaming over the entire composition.

"Were you inspired by someone?" He asked coolly, and she nodded quickly.

"Yes, Raphael's Sistine Madonna." She said quickly, and he hummed under his breath, his hand involuntarily escaping to his mouth and chin, looking intensely at her drawing.

"On the left and right the composition is too filled in. You need to leave those four apostles lower, give more space to the background. Let them form an arc under the figure of Our Lady, not half a circle." He began to speak quickly, pointing his finger at the areas of the work he had in mind, and she nodded, visualising his changes, recognising with joy that, indeed, with his corrections it would look much better.

"Yes. You're right, Professor, I will." She said excitedly, looking at him with her eyes wide open, she had the feeling that happiness was literally beaming from her.

He liked it.

He looked at her for a moment, biting his bottom lip, and then lowered his gaze, returning to his work.

"That's all." He said dryly, and she nodded quickly, took her sheet of paper and applied all the corrections he had mentioned, painting and drawing the whole thing again.

Thus approved and prepared, she handed her design to Cregan, who smiled warmly at her.

"Congratulations." He said calmly, and she reciprocated his smile.

Seeing the impatient gaze of their professor looking at them from across the table she moved away from him, picked up her things and left, saying a polite goodbye, wanting to go get something to eat.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she changed into her usual clothes in the toilet − it was getting warmer outside and she was sitting in her workshop in a black t-shirt tucked into long black trousers and dying of heat.

Being already in her summer dress and trainers, she left putting her backpack on her back, heading to the canteen to buy something warm to eat and go to her wall painting class in a completely different building.

She stopped in mid-step and started to take a step back when she saw her professor standing by the coffee machine right in front of her, but she didn't make it − he took his coffee cup and bumped into her, his gaze quickly going from her top to bottom, as if he didn't recognise her for a moment.

She swallowed loudly, lowering her gaze, wanting to disappear, to hide, though she didn't actually know why.

There was something awkward about the situation, as if he had caught her in the act.

He merely hummed under his breath, taking a sip from his cup, and walked past her without a word. She looked back over her shoulder at him, swallowing loudly, wondering if he was frustrated by what he had seen, or if he would be more judgmental and unpleasant to her than usual.

He, however, remained just as indifferent to her presence, acting exactly the same as before. She figured he wasn't cruel enough to expect her to dress that way all the time in case she ran into him.

When it was time for the results of the competition to be announced, everyone gathered in the room he read out the attendance list for the first time. She took her seat at the very end, just as she had done then, waiting impatiently to hear what their professor would say.

"I presented the bishop with the projects which, in my opinion, were the best of those you gave me. He made his choice, announcing that he wanted our workshop to prepare Miss Wright's design for him. I made no objection to that decision." He said dryly, standing in front of them with his hands folded behind him, looking to the side, his voice expressing some kind of weariness, as did his gaze.

They were all silent for a moment and then her colleagues began to congratulate her loudly, Royce sitting next to her embraced her and said that she deserved it.

She looked into her professor's eyes and somehow saw a kind of discomfort and frustration at the sight of such familiarity, so she pulled away politely, covering her mouth in disbelief, unable to believe that he hadn't objected, that he had allowed her to win.

She heard him grunt loudly, shifting from foot to foot, everyone turned their gazes towards him again.

"As I mentioned, the whole workshop will split the work on this big project. Myself and Cregan will take care of the faces and hands, the third year and fourth year students will take care of the robes. The second year students will take care of the backgrounds." He said coolly and she felt a squeeze in her heart, even the other students looked at him surprised, though no one dared to speak up.

Despite the fact that her project had won, she was only supposed to deal with the background?

She lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her throat, Cregan moved restlessly.

"I think if Miss Wright won, let her stay more involved and help cut the robes." He said lightly, intending to sound casual, but Professor Targaryen did not even look at him.

"No. Everyone will perform the work according to their skills. Miss Wright will prepare a 1:1 design in colour and line within a week, numbering each of the templates, and then cut them out herself. That's all, get back to work." He said lowly and left, leaving them alone.

Although she tried to keep a smile, she felt tear after tear run down her face, wiping them away quickly with her hands as her colleagues approached her, trying to comfort her.

"Don't worry. The fact that the professor wants to paint faces for your project means that he really likes it. He doesn't get involved in work that doesn't interest him." Said one of the fourth year boys.

"It's true, be happy that you won and will have an input. It will be our collective success, of the whole workshop, but remember it's your composition and your idea." Said Ned, her yearmate, and she smiled with gratitude.

Despite how their professor behaved, her colleagues showed her great support and understanding, for which she was grateful.

She decided to go along with her professor's decision and spent the next week creating a huge design, cutting a template for each piece of glass with special double-blade scissors that reduced the volume of the card by the thickness of the lead surrounds into which the glass would be embedded.

One day they were even visited by Professor Lannister himself, and hearing of her success and taking advantage of the fact that she was alone in the room, he approached her, smiling in a way she didn't know what to think of.

He was a tall man, with light hair pulled back and an elegantly trimmed beard in a pressed light-coloured shirt and smart trousers − he looked at her large project hanging on the wall behind her with a form of admiration, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know what you did to Professor Targaryen, but apparently it works. You certainly must have made a great effort." He said and looked at her curiously − she blinked, swallowing loudly, feeling subconsciously uncomfortable at the thought that he was trying to imply something.

"Please don't measure everyone by your standards, Professor." She said lightly so that for a moment he didn't understand what she meant. He glanced at her frowning his eyebrows as soon as the meaning of her words reached him, outraged.

"Are you insinuating something?" He asked roughly and she glared at him, cutting out the template with two intense, firm cuts of her scissors.

"And you, Professor?" She asked, raising her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders, seeing that he swallowed loudly, embarrassed.

She looked away and saw her professor standing in the entrance, measuring Lannister with an anxious, watchful gaze. When the man saw him he became tense, as if caught in the act, and grunted.

"In any case, congratulations again and I wish you well in your future work." He said, forcing a smile, and she reciprocated his gesture, beaming with satisfaction and contentment.

When Professor Lannister left she immediately returned to her work.

She looked up surprised when she saw that for the first time her professor had approached her of his own free will, standing on the opposite side of her table, looking at the templates she had cut so far.

"What did he want?" He asked drily, and she sighed quietly, cutting open the next sheets of paper, numbering them one by one.

"To learn the secret of my success." She replied softly and glanced up at him, his intense gaze fixed on her. She swallowed loudly, feeling shivers from the way he looked at her.

"What did you tell him?" He asked expectantly, coolly, menacingly, clasping his hands on the edge of the table.

She grabbed another piece of paper, unimpressed.

"That he shouldn't measure everyone by his standards. His attitude towards his female students was one of the reasons I didn't want him to teach me." She said quietly, truthfully, wondering if she was crossing the line by saying such things about one professor to another.

She felt that he was still looking at her, although he had always avoided any eye contact, now she felt that his gaze was burning her.

"And you came to ask for a place with a professor who hit his student?" He asked seriously, lowly, and she lifted her gaze to him, feeling her heart pounding hard, sensing that this was her chance to find out what had happened.

"And did you hit her, Professor?" She asked in a trembling voice, feeling that her hands were shaking and she had to concentrate very hard to cut straight.

He was silent for a long moment.

"Yes." He said emotionlessly, indifferently, with a kind of weariness.

She pressed her lips together and swallowed loudly, for some reason afraid to look at him.

"Why did you do that?" She asked quietly, and he chuckled under his breath.

"Does it matter?" He asked, as if the answer was obvious.

"It matters if you did it for no reason or if you were trying to defend yourself against her, sir." She replied wearily, still not looking at him, feeling the atmosphere between them becoming increasingly tense. She heard him snort at her words, surprised.

"In what way could she harm me? Hit me?" He asked mockingly, but there was something in his voice that troubled her, some kind of frustration through which she knew she had hit the target, that something more had really happened there.

"Women can hurt men in all sorts of ways. It's just that they are hardly believed." She whispered and heard him swallow loudly, his chest rising and falling in anxious breaths. She looked at him uncertainly, his healthy eye was wide open.

He was silent for a long moment, she could feel that something was happening to him, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"You prefer to defend the abuser instead of the victim?" He asked in disbelief at last, the corner of his mouth twitching in what she might have called a smile if not for the look in his eyes.

"No. I just know her version of events. I wanted to hear yours before I decided what I thought of you, Professor. I thought it was only fair." She said in a trembling voice, feeling that at that moment she was truly afraid of him.

He did not answer anything for a while, looking at her with a clenched jaw and licked his lips.

"There is no excuse for me. But I don't regret what I did. What do you think about it, Miss Wright?" He asked tauntingly and she looked at him in pain, tightening her lips.

"That I feel sorry for you, Professor. Just like I feel sorry for that girl. I hope you find the decency to apologise to her one day. Excuse me, but I would like to focus on my work." She said quietly, swallowing loudly, feeling regret and disappointment.

She wanted to believe that he wasn't such a bad person, that something had happened that would give him a reason to behave like that.

However, she now knew that she could only count on him in artistic matters, and that in others he could be no authority for her.

She lowered her gaze, returning to her cutting, her hands trembling, feeling that he was still standing in the same place, that he was looking at her, she could hear his accelerated breathing.

After a moment he was gone, she heard him take his leather jacket from the back of his chair and just leave.

From then on it was she who didn't look at him and avoided him even though she saw that he glanced at her occasionally. She knew he was working on detailed sketches for the figure's faces; he was sitting at one of the desks with a sketchbook and pencil, absorbed in his thoughts.

Their gazes met suddenly and she turned away quickly, swallowing loudly.

She knew there was only one day left until the end of the month, after which he was to decide what to do next, whether he would let her stay or kick her out.

She had lost any remnants of a good opinion of him privately, however, he organised their work well and was very dedicated to it − she felt that with him and her colleagues she had learnt more about the subject of stained glass in these few weeks than she had in her entire life so far.

When the day came, however, he was sitting locked in the second room, reserved for him to paint his already-cut glass. This required a lot of concentration and it was easy to make a mistake, so no one disturbed him.

She reasoned that if he had wanted to tell her he was throwing her out, he would have done so immediately.

On her way out of class and walking down the corridor, she saw that the door to the room he was working in was ajar and she looked inside uncertainly. Whatever she thought of him, he was an outstanding painter and she was dying of curiosity as to how he depicted her figures.

Noticing that he had to leave for a moment and that the room was empty, she walked slowly inside, leaning over the illuminated table on which lay the cut, painted and patinated faces of various saints.

Looking at the faces of the apostles, she involuntarily marvelled, noticing the incredible accuracy in the proportions and the lightness with which he had given their faces expression; they seemed both emotional and calm, their faces showing excited anticipation.

Around the glasses were sketches made with pencil that he had prepared beforehand, which accurately represented what he wanted to portray.

She moved on to the face of the Virgin Mary and froze, feeling her heart pounding hard. She looked at the sketch next to it to be sure and swallowed loudly.

Mother of God had her facial features.

Then, when their gazes met, he didn't glance at her casually.

He was portraying her.

She didn't know what to make of it, at once horrified, excited, concerned, shocked. She shuddered when she heard someone's voice behind her.

"Get out." He said lowly, coldly, his gaze menacing, dark, warning. He stood in the entrance with his hands clenched into fists and she wondered how long he had been watching her.

"I'm sorry. I −"

"Get. Out." He repeated in a tone that suggested he wasn't going to say it a third time.

She lowered her head, swallowing loudly, and moved to leave on trembling legs, he, however, caught her firmly by her shoulder as she passed him and stopped her without looking at her.

"Don't ever come in here again without permission. Your painting room is next door. This is my private studio. Do you understand?" He asked in a razor-sharp tone, and she nodded quickly, unable to get anything out.

He let her go and she almost ran out, only drawing in a loud breath in the corridor, she felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

His Virgin Mary, the central figure of the whole composition, would have her face.

_____

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[mintsuwu]

Midnight Mysteries AU Q&A!

Hello! I´ve been opening asks on Twitter recently and a bunch of people asked stuff about the AU. So I thought it would be fair to share the information here as well to keep everynyan updated! I´ll also take the chance to reply to asks that I have pending in my inbox as well.

Which Midnight Mysteries characters would be magical fellas, like "madoka magica, smile precure"?

Probably Poppy or CraftyCorn, the latter was a unicorn after all 👀

Detective Bubbaphant looks like he needs serious therapy /aff

Oh trust me, HE DEFINITELY DOES.

Every single Critter in that AU needs therapy. That´s partly the reason why Rosie (Bobby) became a psychologist /hj

Can I give Officer Kicks a hug?

Sure you can!! Don´t approach him when he´s angry though.

Do you allow OCs/Fanfics or such for your AU?

Yeah, I absolutely do and it makes me so happy that people would like my AU that much! 😭🙏💖

Does CatNap have a tragic backstory or personal goal or is he bad just for funsies? :00

He sort of has a tragic backstory, not too much, but he definitely has his motives... And even though his intentions could be sort of good, his ways are not the right ones (?

Chat, what happens if Officer Kicks is angry?

Dear user, I pray that you never encounter an angry rooster in your life because one nearly attacked me when I was little and it was... Quite the experience-

That aside though, he has an awful temper and can even get violent at times. Kickin´s character development simply hasn´t kicked in yet.

Are LoolaLamb and CatNap dating or does he just like messing with her?

They have been engaged for years. They married out of convenience and their relationship isn´t fully romantic, but CatNap actually cares about her in a way and is kind of possesive of her.

How did you come up with the Midnight Mysteries AU?

Funny enough, the idea simply came to me one day in which I was listening to the Spy X Family openings, and since my previous hyperfixation was The Great Mouse Detective my mind suddenly thought "What if I made an AU inspired on both things?" That added to the fact that I always kinda imagined Bubba as a detective and knew I had to draw it sometime.

Does CatNap just manipulate or make deals with the Sugary Scoundrels to cause trouble?

Sort of! As those two grew up in the orphanage that he runs, it´s more or less their way to repay him the favor, even though they spend most of their days out on the streets roaming around. But they are also lowkey intimidated by Catnap... Though, Bunzo has it worse with Mistress LongLegs in comparison. PD: The girls, specially CatBee, really admire Loola! And the latter is quite fond of them too.

Will the Midnight Mysteries AU have a similar story to Poppy Playtime, or does it only have the characters in common with the original source?

It will most likely have a slightly different route as PPT´s story is not done yet, but there will be events of the AU based on it! For example, The Hour Of Joy took place as well, but the motives behind it will be different.

What year does the Midnight Mysteries AU take place in?

Historically wise, it would take place around 1930-50, I don´t have an exact year but I know it would hace to end in 5 given how Poppy Playtime takes place in 2005.

What was MM Catnap´s childhood like?

I still have to think better on it, but he was a wondering performer! Perhaps specialized in acribatics.

What sort of things did Huggy and his siblings do before working for the railroad? What were their parents like, were they even around?

Their parents died when they were still yound, so Huggy had to raise his siblings by himself. They were later taken into a circus, but things weren´t very nice in there... After leaving the circus he took part on several crimes, being the brute force of the villanous gang while his siblings were unaware of their brother´s felonies. But when he took part in The Hour Of Joy, Huggy decided to change his ways from then on and did his best to leave the past behind along with his family.

What are Angel´s pronouns in the AU?

He/They!

Is Angel close or affiliated to any of the characters from the AU (DogDay for example?)

Yeah! He is allies with Poppy, Kissy and DogDay. Angel shares a parent-son relationship with the latter as they practically raised the poor dog after he had gone through a negative moment in his life.

Is CraftyCorn in the MM AU, or does she have yet to be revealed?

... She used to be(?

Is Billie actually a boy looking for his dad, or a kid playing innocent to help CatNap?

He´s mainly looking for his dad! But I love that twist ngl...

Did DogDay get that scratch from CatNap or something else?

Yes, he got it from CatNap in a fight.

Is Billy´s mom, by any chance, Mistress Long Legs? Does she know?

Yes, she does know but perhaps she wouldn´t recognize him at first as she didn´t raise him and Billie wouldn´t even know how she looks like. Darwin tried not to tell him much about her and her deeds, or at least he wanted to wait and tell him until he was old enough.

How did Darwin go missing, did Billie witness it?

He got kidnapped, and Billie did witness it. He caught sight of the kidnapper but couldn´t catch up to them when he tried to go after his dad.

What happened to Angel?

Many things...

Does Angel have the ability to die and revive in the past before they died? The Angels from the other universes are able to do that too.

No... Or at least, they haven´t tried out yet, so who knows!

"Traitor"? Did Angel used to work for the Prototype before rebelling against them?

Indeed, Angel betrayed their comrades in a very critical moment and since then they all have been searching for him... CatNap mostly. Which is why they usually remain hidden, outcasted and only keeping contact with selective people.

[lemotmo]

Hi! I was one of your anons last week, hoping for concrete evidence. Now, I’m not sure if everyone is feeling this way, but I am so at peace. I would’ve lost a lot of hope if the breakup didn’t happen, but I’m so relieved, and just to be free of t*mmy is such a big part of our beginning, I think.

And while I would’ve loved for Eddie to have THE realization, I seriously think what we got was a beautiful start for him. With Eddie, it is going to take time, and as much as I’d love for him to immediately know his truth and go for it, this sweet, slow build it going to be delicious.

I wasn’t one who was super enthusiastic about the idea of the priest, I was afraid they’d sneak in some religious nonsense for Eddie, or lead it back to Shannon AGAIN. But I really loved the way it went and it was actually so lovely and I think the perfect way to start Eddie on his journey.

I can’t decide who I think will realize first/reveal first, I could see either, and I would be thrilled with either. I’m so excited for this story, and I hope everyone else had a great time watching and is feeling good!

Also hope your inbox is a safe place right now with all of the T*mmy/L*u stuff going on. Your blog is one of my favorites and I love reading your takes, so I hope you’re taking care of yourself from the insanity!

Hey Nonny! So glad to see you're at peace now! Same though! I'm so chill right now.

This episode was filled to the brim with subtle but obvious clues and metaphores. It had some faults, but overall it was a great episode.

The BT breakup has brought me so much joy! 😋 It's like an anvil has been lifted off my shoulders.

I agree with all your observations. We are gearing up for an epic slow burn resolution and I'm here for it! 😆

As for my inbox? I have blocked most of the hardcore Tommies, so I don't get all that much hate anymore. There's always a few hate messages here and there, but they get blocked immediately. So I'm doing okay!

Thank you for the lovely compliment! ❤️

[sequencefairy]

I've started writing this post like, four times already, and I keep discarding the drafts instead of continuing because it's too close, still. But i know i need to unpack this instead of just letting it live inside of me to fester and rot and make me bitter, which will just mean that the haters won, because it's their fault the joy is gone.

Something happened this weekend here on tumblr and elsewhere in other fanspaces and across the wider internet. Something horrible. I've been through fandom implosions before, I was in the trenches with VLD, I walked through the end of Bleach, but this was orders of magnitude worse.

The meanness. The cruelty. The way so many people forgot that the people on their TV, laptop and phone screens are people. That the words they're gleefully typing into their little comment boxes and their posts are being seen by real people, and not just the people at which they are directed.

This fandom has long had a problem with passive, and also less passive, racism. This fandom has long had a problem with boundaries between ourselves and the people we are fans of. I think these two things combined into a horrid creature that was beyond the imagining of anyone.

I slept very little this weekend. I have been more anxious the last three days than I have ever been in my life. I worried every time I opened the tumblr app what thing I might find in my inbox or as a reply on one of my posts. I worried about friends in the fandom, who were dealing not only with the barrage of vitriol not directed at them, but also who were receiving it themselves for daring to be supportive of the general plan.

I am lucky. I have spaces to retreat to. I have friends who are both in and not in this fandom, who have checked in with me to make sure I'm doing okay. My partner has shouldered the bulk of managing the house this weekend because I couldn't. It was too much to think about how to deal with that when all this was going on inside my phone and my laptop. I am also lucky because I am not a person of colour.

Watching folks in this fandom who I know to be folks of colour wade into the fray and knowing that they are seeing the same takes that I was seeing about Steven and about Ryan, makes my heart want to shrivel up in my chest. It hurt me to watch people turn on Watcher this weekend, but I cannot imagine how much it hurt my friends, who might have been watching people they used to trust or enjoy or feel like they knew, spew racist and hateful rhetoric over a business decision they didn't agree with.

I'm not going to litigate whether things could have been done differently, because it really doesn't matter to me, but I am going to say that a level of trust has been shattered here in this fandom space. I can't have fun with people about Watcher content when I have to check and make sure they weren't among the people who were calling for violence against a man whose crime was poorly communicating a business decision to a fandom they used to extoll as kind and generous. If my trust in the wider fandom has been broken then I have to assume our fandom friends of colour's trust has also been shredded.

This has fundamentally changed how I want to engage with and in fandom, and not for the better. I don't have an answer for what this means for me going forward, but I am just so sad. I am so sad that a place of great joy has been sapped of that feeling and I don't know how I'm going to get it back.

I don't know if I want to.

[meanbossart]

Hey thanks for putting Astarion and Drow in the respective sexual roles you do. (Or at least that I've seen, they might be verse, I don't want to assume anything)

I saw the ask about "wouldn't that be boring" in reference to the mirror sex and I was so profoundly bummed by it. Just, a world view that's so engrained the most boring version of a potential reality was chosen to confirm it and then used to shame the creator. A reality that didn't have an asshole experiencing invisible penetration. I've literally moped around. Where's the art? Where's the joy?

Anyway, I'm drunk, I think you might be wine drunk, so we're like connecting here. Fisting over the Internet, bro style. Keep up the keeping up. You're doing great. Hugs and kisses and aggressive support for, again, all of you. xoxo buhbye~

I don't know if the "fisting over the internet" was accidental or an on purpose double-entendre but either way, it was very fitting and it make me laugh, so thank you LOL

Thought I'm not... Sure I recall ever getting an ask like that? Like referring to that arrangement as "boring", if i understand correctly. I've seen a few unfortunate tags and comments from what seemed like, mostly, to be people that had certain assumptions and willfully or otherwise misinterpreted the joke because of it. But I haven't ever gotten anything that outwardly rude in my inbox, thankfully 🤷either way, I do see the sentiment and I agree. It's honestly something I was very surprised to see from adults on TUMBLR of all places.

Wishing you happy drunken times my friend! Glad you enjoy the nonsense I get up to 😎🥂

[weeping-statue]

ask, and ye shall receive 🙇🙇🙇

if u take multiple characters, may i request naib, ithaqua, and alva with an s/o whos a kleptomaniac? if u dont do multiple chars, maybe just alva if thats ok!

much loves 💞💞💞

please read🔻

This.. has been rotting in my inbox since the start and I am so sorry. Usually I’m trying to find motivation for all of these writings but things came up yesterday and I just needed to write something to make me feel better. So this was more self indulgent. I would love to write for Alva but I fear I don’t have a good concept of him yet. Also Kinktober stuff will be posted in the near future. There will be a part two of this with Ithaqua, I think? not proofread and not great-

Naib with a kleptomaniac s/o! —————————————————————-

He’s got a massive safe, with all of his stuff in it and you don’t have the code.

No I’m kidding,

Well, sorta.

He keeps his room clean anyways so there’s nothing to really take other than a few pencils, coins, or wrappers of leftover food.

He does keep a hidden snack drawer that’s filled to the brim with all kinds of stuff and he can tell if you’ve been in there. Even if one thing is gone.

Naib had taken you to his room a few hours ago, just so he could be near you. No need for talking when your presence is enough. Which brings us to now, where you were chilling on his beanbag chair with a book that you stole from Joseph’s office. Naib had quietly grunted to signal to you, then gestured to the door that he’ll be back. You nodded and went to go read as he shut the door.

Perfect.

Now was your time to strike. The feeling had been itching away at you ever since you got there. You just had too. It’s not like you could control it anyways. So you crept over to his snack drawer in the bottom of his desk. And picked out a.. large almond joy? (I’m so sorry I’ve been craving fucking almond joys for like weeks so.. you get almond joys.)

Oh well, they were good anyways. Especially frozen, to get that crunch! You place the sugary treat into a pocket that’s least likely to smush it or melt it. Closing the drawer you slip back into your spot, pick up your book, and continue like nothing happened. And that’s when the door opened again, Naib coming back with.. more food? A family sized bag of potato chips to be exact. You roll your eyes and let out a small huff to conceal your want to laugh. He was a strong guy, always working out, burning calories, so eating like this was reasonable, you thought. When he walks over to his snack drawer pulling out a Twix to eat with his chips, he nods to you, politely gesturing again if you wanted some. Which was another way to tell you he loves you, because there was no way he was sharing with anyone else.

You decline, because chips? No, the almond joy. Which means you had to escape, and quick before he finds out.

You stand up, stretching like you’ve been sitting for too long, and grab your jacket off the back of his chair. Turning to him, to say, “Nah, no thanks. I think I’ll wait till dinner to eat. But I’m gonna head out now, see if Victor has any mail for me.”

Naib nods, and stands by the door watching you start to leave. When he suddenly asks, “Did you go in my snack drawer?”

You pause and turn to him, internally “wtf?”-ing. With a shake of your head you lie. “No? Why?”

Naib fixes his hood, looking you up and down for anything out of place. “Dunno, just seemed like there was less than before.”

You glance at the drawer and shrug, trying to play it cool. You really had to go. “I don’t know what to tell you, I really didn’t take anything.”

Naib nods and lets you go for now. Choosing to believe you. Which was great for you, slipping out of his room and shutting the door quietly. Quickly walking away.

You were halfway down the hallway when you heard a door slam open and naib yell,

“MY ALMOND JOY-”

Fuck. ———————————————————————-

I kinda rushed this, it’s not great. Haven’t been feeling well lately, but when am I ever. I’ll try to do better next time, I promise.

[strangelockd]

Till The End Of Time

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader

Summary: After years of living a busy life and being the worlds only consulting detective. Sherlock Holmes basks in the glow of fatherhood. Together you opt for a movie night, leaving Sherlock with other ideas in mind for the two of you.

Warning: - Heavy Fluff & Smut, Fingering, Pure Mutual Admiration, Praise Kink, P In V Sex, Hair Pulling.

•This came to me as I was organizing my music. I hope you all enjoy it. (Who wouldn’t enjoy Sherlock as a father 🥹) I am slowly returning to my inbox requests so please bare with me. If you like the song you can check out my Sherlock Holmes Playlist. As always likes, comments and reblog’s are always welcome•

Stroking Sherlocks soft brown curls between your fingers you couldn't help but give a joyful sigh. It was the perfect day, and Sherlock wanted nothing more than to enjoy the weekend with his girls. After retirement, it took a while for your husband to live a slower life amongst people.

For decades all Sherlock Holmes knew was solving criminal cases, chasing one high with the next. The Consulting Detective was never one to admit that he would become the ‘settle down’ type of man. But after time and great patience, Sherlock Holmes grew to fall in love with what normal people would call human domesticity.

Resting your arm around his neck Sherlock craned his head bringing your hand up, kissing each finger gently as your daughter continued sleeping in his lap. His free hand continued playing with Amelia's curls while his eyes trailed to yours. That piercing green gaze that always sent flutters through your stomach. To most Sherlock wasn't an easy person to read, but this look said it all as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

“I love you both so much y/n,” he broke the silence, “You and Amelia have brought me more happiness than anything could ever give,” his lips went back to your hand as he glacially made his way to your wrist. Placing a delicate kiss on your pulse point you released an impulsive groan bringing your legs closer in a foolish attempt to hide what the heart truly desired.

“And I love you S-Sherlock, we both do more than anything in the world,” you quivered, trying to maintain your composure. Nearly waking Amelia you both paused giggling only for her to continue back to her soft snores. She was always a deep sleeper like you and at times like this it served its benefit. Leaning in slowly you kissed Sherlock, feeling him moan against your soft lips, his free hand cupping your chin as if you were porcelain glass. His thumb stroked your skin softly as you leaned into his touch, soft and secure.

“How about we put Amelia to bed and we can have a movie night? I'll even let you pick the film,” you smiled.

Sherlocks hand trailed down resting on his navy clad leg as he sat contemplating your idea. The edge of his lip formed a familiar smirk as he quickly stole another kiss.

“That sounds more than fair,” he agreed.

Sliding your arm off, Sherlock stood up opting to carry Amelia to her room. Her small delicate limbs clung to her fathers frame like a tiny koala as his long fingers played with her soft auburn hair. Tucking her in gently, Sherlock kissed Amelia's forehead whispering sweet nothings, stroking her soft curls that strikingly resembled his own. Next to you, she was perfect in his eyes.

“Good night, my dearest Ameila. Mummy and Daddy love you with all of our hearts,” the timber in his voice spoke with promise, closing the door behind him. With a satisfied sigh he rolled his shoulders back with a feeling of confidence. Like the familiar thrill of solving a case Sherlock Holmes couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

The two of you brought him more pride and joy than he ever could imagine. All these years he always felt like a pariah, destined to wander this world alone. Sherlock kept convincing himself that he wasn’t worthy of anything good. But with you, it changed the course of his life for the better. With Amelia, life just became more plentiful.

*****

Making a quick change into your pajamas, you sat at the foot of the bed unaware that Sherlock was standing by the door frame on the side safely assuming he was watching this whole time. His eyes glowed in the low light as he took strides closer, wedging himself between your legs opening them wider, his expression drinking in your lovely features. The curls draped over his forehead as he slowly leaned into you, feeling his breath on your skin sent goosebumps up your flesh.

You pulled away, eyeing him with suspicion playfully taking him in, “penny for your thoughts?”

Sherlocks body towered above you, his big hands cupping your face softly bringing you in for a deep kiss. The feeling of his lips ever inviting as his tongue grazed across your lower lip begging for entrance. Together you moaned in sweet unison as he slipped inside, holding your frame up for support as you kissed with heated passion. Feeling his strong legs between yours you couldn’t help but bring your fingers up to his waistband pulling him closer. It was enough to spur him on as he continued kissing you. All that could be heard was your shared moans as you suddenly pulled away suddenly remembering the plans for tonight.

“Wait. S-Sherlock. What about the film?” You pleaded, his lips trailing your collarbone. The flecks of his tongue against your skin made you release a sharp hiss. His tongue continued nibbling your ear as you melted under his hypnotic touch. Powerful and strong, he was able to read you better than anyone. He pulled away leaving the both of you breathless as he rested his forehead against yours smiling sheepishly.

“I had another plan besides a film my darling. Much more pleasurable plans. And beside,” taking his fingers he slid off your top leaving your top half exposed, “you said I got to pick what I wanted to watch,” throwing the garment on the floor he gave a soft groan. He couldn't help but stare in awe, “and I choose to watch you come undone by me.”

His baritone voice dropped an octave as he was left stunned, “So perfect,” leaving his mouth agape you stood up to kiss him softly. Your bare chest pressed against his form fitting white shirt that was begging to be ripped off. Sherlock leaned in to kiss you once more as you leaned into his touch. The feel of his large hands pressed against your bare skin left goosebumps in their wake. All that could be heard was the sound of Sherlocks whimpers as your fingers threaded through the curls that crowned his head. He always had a weak spot when you grabbed or played with his tresses.

Sherlock was all too eager to accept the guidance as your hand led him to suck on a nipple, followed the other he traced each bud with delicate care. Knowing all the tricks to make your knees buckle. He was feeling you getting impatient as you pulled his head away, leaving him smiling. The sound of his labored breath only turned you on more as your fingers fumbled with the button of his white dress shirt.

You slowly removed his buttoned shirt leaving his top half exposed. The way the moonlight kissed his alabaster skin made your pussy ache. Before you could comprehend Sherlocks palms rested beside you on the bed as you felt the weight shift on both sides of your hips, he wanted more of you as he slowly slid two of his fingers around your waistband. Biting your lips you locked eyes as he slid your bottoms off finally freeing you from your pajamas. He could see the glisten of your eager entrance aching for his attention.

You took a quick hold, grabbing his waistband once more in a desperation to have him closer. Your lips returned in a feral fury as you removed his trousers and boxers in a swift motion. His hands returning to your entrance, you cried a soft moan as his fingers pumped in and out, the feeling was pure ecstasy as you felt your orgasm blossom. It clearly spurred Sherlock on because it made him pick up the pace as his thumb teased in circles around your tender bud.

“Darling you're so beautiful. I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you,” he purred curling his finger in that spot. The sweet spot that always had you see stars. Before you knew it you cried out in pure pleasure as Sherlock watched on, grinning with pride.

Coming down from your high Sherlock paused, bringing a foot up he placed a kiss on your ankle. Hearing you giggle his green eyes glowed as he locked into your gaze. He slowly crawled on top of you kissing up the length of your body, his arms cadging you in as he leaned down kissing you softly. Sherlock was always a passionate person deep down and to find himself lost in this moment was something of a dream. The look of your pebble flushed breasts accompanied by the look in your eyes of pure satisfaction. He wanted this moment etched in the walls of his mind palace forever.

He kissed your forehead trailing down to your nose, his lips found yours as he melted into your touch. The great detective was immensely turned to putty by the one thing he can't live without. You. For you fit him better in more ways than one. He brought himself up aligning his cock at your entrance. Giving a few steady pumps with his hand you took in the glisten of pre cum beading off the tip making you bite your lip once more. Bracing his shoulders for support as he asked, “Are you ready my love?” Sherlock's eyes never left yours as he scanned you for absolute permission.

Taking a hand you cupped the back of Sherlocks neck, bringing him close and kissing him gently. Showing assurance the kiss was soft and bared your heart filled trust. No words were needed as Sherlock slowly thrusted himself in. You both shared a groan as the kiss never broke. Allowing yourself to adjust before he pulled away gently, he locked on your gaze once more purring into your ear.

“Promise me one thing y/n,” he went even slower, itching himself deeper as he slowly bottomed out. Savoring the moment of feeling his cock stretching you so unbelievably full. You clenched slightly causing Sherlocks hands to suddenly dig into your hips knowing damn well it will leave marks.

“W-what's that,” you stuttered as he kept up his thrust, determined to make you feel complete.

Sherlock caged his arms around you as he paused leaning into your ear his voice purred against your ear, “that you're mine. Forever,” returning to his pace your nails dug into his back. Your hand laced the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. A kiss that spoke of untimely promise. He kept up the pace as you moaned once more in pleasure.

“Always!,” feeling your climax blooming, your nails dug into his pale back even deeper, “I promise Sherlock. Now please go faster,” you begged, feeling your heels dig deeper, spurring him on as it only took those words for him to start thrusting into you at such a pace; A pace you will know you'll feel the next day.

“Jesus Sherlock!” You groaned into his neck, his curls sticking to his sweat glistened forehead as he kissed you. Stifling all moans as you rode your climax. The feeling bloomed as his hips moved at this new angle that made you suddenly see stars. Whatever god you were chanting was wasted as Sherlock slammed into you one last time. Your orgasm hit you, making your eyes practically fall into the back of your head as you drenched his cock with your nectar.

“That's my good girl,” he smiled, feeling the praise go right to your solar plexus. You were always a sucker for admiration. He pulled out gently making you wince, you couldn't help but miss the feeling of him. Throwing the blanket iver Sherlock quickly returned with a tray full of essentials. Even after lovemaking he always believed in aftercare. The tray consisted of two sleeptime teas, massage oil and a small stack of what looks like steaming towels.

“You always take such wonderful care of me Sherlock, how did I get so lucky?” He traced a warm towel over your center as he was careful not to overstimulate. He reached for the glass bottle of oil, pouring it over his elegant digits as he signaled you to lay on your stomach. The feeling of his strong hands worked every aching nerve as you sank into the mattress.

“It's not luck y/n I just love taking great care of what is precious to me,” he spoke softly rubbing every part of your skin. The oil felt amazing as he finished with your shoulders sealing the gesture with a kiss he rubbed his hands dry on a towel before reaching for your tea. Covering with the blankets you snuggled closer together as you both sipped your beverages in complete happiness enjoying the moment shared between you both. For life could not be any more satisfying than having you and Amelia at his side.

Masterlist

Sherlock Holmes Playlist

@withalittlehoney @deepbatched @bakerstreethound @thealleydog @sassenach-on-the-rocks @blxckdragonfly @asherloki @pinkthick @stewardofningishzida @cumbrbatchbenedict @geeky-politics-46 @lokidokieokie @strangesgirls @silversword7000 @newavenger @icytrickster17 @lucimorningst4r @lady-harvey @evelyn-kingsley @battledress @budugu @kentucky-criedfricken @hunterofshadows04 @km-ffluv @datauthorress @azu21 @cemak @sobeautifullyobsessed @aphroditesdilemma @huxs-waifu @strangesslut @butchers-girl @dino-fart @meeom @strangesthirdeye @vickiee-mcmuffin

[doctorsiren]

little PSA:

I have zero obligations to answer any asks sent in. I have zero obligations to draw something for those asks. There are many that I want to draw things for, and there are many that I just might reply to.

I have around 950 asks in my inbox (i had around 850-ish just last week). This is great, this is cool! I love it when people interact and send in asks!

Yet feeling like I need to respond to all of them, or feeling like I need to do art for them is incredibly draining.

This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t send something in. Please do! I love to read it and I do read every single one!

I am a busy person. I have life, uni, and other work I need to do. So I don’t like feeling like I have an obligation to do something that I know, in reality, I don’t have an obligation to do. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to give a little heads up, seeing as my inbox is nearing 1000 unanswered asks. (This is, of course, since I made this blog in 2020)

I love you all and I love all the interactions because it does genuinely bring me joy and this blog and the people who interact are a big place of happiness to me through my days. I thank you for your support and interaction. Just know that I am a person with stuff I gotta do. You get it haha