#so you Better Believe that every black girl there around my age knew how to spell p-r-e-s-t-i-d-i-g-i-t-a-t-i-o-n. 'prestidigitation'

[nero-neptune]

shout out to this movie for teaching me how to spell words that i've never found the opportunity to use in real life lol

[itsgivingmami]

Her Altar- Rhea Ripley

Warning: religious based homophobia

Practice what you practice, love who you love.

   Growing up had been nothing special. School during the week, riding your bike with friends on Saturdays and stuffing yourself into clothes you dreaded for church on Sunday.

   You had never really liked church but at a young age it hadn't occurred to you exactly what it was. You didn't like to do it the same way you dreaded math tests and asparagus but it wasn’t exactly an optional occurrence. As a young child you'd found the grain in the back of the pew you'd sat behind more interesting than whatever the pastor was groaning on about.

    For your seventh birthday your parents had gifted you a simple gold cross necklace and had hung it around you like a totem before you could tell them you weren't particularly fond of it. Or church.

   As you got older you learned very quickly that your opinion of faith was null and despite the fact that you were real, tangible and god (presumably) wasn't didn't matter. The laws of the bible did.  By the time you were thirteen you knew you were attracted to women, the constant reminder that being gay was a sin had only served as education on the subject. the constant reminder to stay quiet about how you felt kept you safe and you learned to repress school crushes on other girls. Growing up in a prejudice environment masked in faith had took its toll,

Then along came Rhea,

    Hiding your feelings for her made you feel more guilty than betraying the faith you were supposed to have. Every time you two hung out you felt like you were lying to her, you felt dishonest when you two linked arms walking through the mall and when she fell asleep next to you in the same bed during sleep overs. You started to avoid her under the guise of protecting her, believing that she was better off without you pining after her.

    "Why are you avoiding me?" She had caught you at your locker, trapping you between her body and cold metal.

     "I'm not.." you laugh off avoiding her gaze and you try and find a way under her arm.

    "We have talked everyday for the last god knows how long and suddenly radio silence," you shake your head as if she's wrong, but you know she's not. "I watched you make eye contact with me and run down the hall the other direction and did you think I wouldn't notice that you haven't been to a single one of my games in weeks?" You didn't, you figured she wouldn't notice your absence on the sideline and that she'd have no issues finding someone else to talk with. "What gives? I miss you,"

    You keep your eyes on her shoes, a familiar pair of dirty black chucks, your doodles covering the toes and you remember the day you two had spent ditching class on the bleachers with her legs thrown over your lap. Your parents had berated you for skipping but you hardly heard it, deeming the time you got to spend with Rhea worth it.

    "I'm sorry," you spoke quietly before biting the inside of your cheek, trying to will you ears to stop tearing,

   "Don't apologise just tell me what I did so I don't do it again and-" the hand she's gesturing with falls to her side, "let me have my friend back,"

    It's too much, the combination of her blaming and the way she calls you her friend makes you feel overwhelmed by guilt. You feel exasperated by the inner conflict and you want her to understand that you can't give her back her friend, because you don't feel at all friendly about her but telling her means really telling her the truth and your not ready to fully loose her either.

   "It's not you," you rasp as you quickly duck under her arm and run from her not bothering to close your locker door. It's selfish, but you can't have her too close and you can't loose her entirely. So without explaining yourself you flee and continue to keep her at arm's length. Rhea stands frozen staring at the spot you were just in, sighs and closes her eyes before gently shutting your locker for you.

                                             ~

     For the first time in years you go to confession after safely making it out the building sure Rhea wasn't going to come after you. Pulling open the door you don't remember walking here at all.

    You see the shadow of the priest through the lattice as you sit on the bench. It takes you a moment before you realise your supposed to greet him.

    "Sorry uh-," you shake your head and bring your hand up to cross your heart, your necklace feels like it's burning your skin as you speak. "Bless me father, for I have sinned?" It comes out as more of a question and you swallow thickly already regretting this decision. "It clearly has been a long time since my last confession," You hear a hum from the other side,

    "You are here now," its sounds empty, like he's said it too many times today and you're sure he has. "Why?"

    "I think I love someone," you tell him, it's the first time you admit it and hearing it out loud makes your chest thump.

    "How do you know you love him?" He asks you and you wince, him. Everything inside you is screaming at you to run, but you stay planted. Faith and whatnot right?

    "My heart races and I would do anything for," you hesitate, "this person, I can't imagine hurting the person I love, so much so I would hurt myself before I ever could," tears start to fall as you talk about it for the first time, "I can't live without her but I would if she asked me too,"

                                              ~

       When you walk through the door your parents are waiting, scowling and deep down you know; they know. Weren’t confessionals supposed to be private? A bag lands in front of your feet with a thud.

     "There will be no sinners living under our roof," your mother spits, you look to your dad you refuses to meet your eyes. You throw the strap over your shoulder and swallow thickly before straightening your posture. A shaky hand reaches up to your necklace and rip it off tossing it at their feet before leaving.

                                          ~

      Rhea has a cd playing quietly so she can listen to the thunder as she watches the rain our outside, she still can't figure out what she did to upset you and it's driving her nuts. Deciding to skip soccer practice and head home after you'd run from her again. She runs a hand through her hair at the memory and blinks back tears. It was bad enough she had cowered out of telling you about her feelings so many times, now you wouldn't even talk to her at all.

    Maybe you had caught on to her clingy-ness, she hated to think that she didn't at least get the chance to confess that she loved you in a way that might not freak you out. Her dim computer screen on her desk remains on her aim, countless unanswered messages on your part.

   "Rhea!!" Her mom's voice snaps her out of her thoughts as she quickly gets up and heads downstairs. She freezes on the last step when she spots you, soaked through, shaking, red eyed and her mother trying to wrap you in a blanket. She spots your dripping bags near the front door and she feels her body flash with heat as a rage bubbles up.

     "What happened?" Rhea questions as she comes towards you, making quick work of pulling her hoodie over her head using it wipe water from your face. You simply let out a sob in response as you jerk forward, she steps closer and pulls you against her.

   "They kicked me out," you sputter between breaths, "I didn't know where to go,"

     "Here," she answers and her mom hands her another blanket which she lays gently over your shaking body, "always here," She holds you while you cry into her collar and makes eye contact with her mom who simply nods before grabbing your bag to put whatever she can in the dryer.

    "We gotta getcha warm baby," she whispers to you softly, the endearment comes out naturally and you let out a soft cry at how kind she's being despite the fact that you've been avoiding her for weeks. "Let's go to my room yeah?"

   She holds your waist as she guides you upstairs, the front of your head is starting to hurt from crying and your face feels fuzzy. You enter the familiar space, greeted by pictures and posters you helped hang. Rhea sits you gently on her unmade bed and flips on the desk lamp, a soft yellow light illuminates the room.

     "You need dry clothes," she speaks as she's opening drawers in her dresser and rifling through unfolded piles. "Sweatpants or shorts? Tee or sweater," she rambles half to you half to herself. As you watch her grab things for you and mumble to herself you make a decision.

    "Rhea," you watch her turn to you "I have something I need to tell you,"

                                                ~

    "Whatcha doing baby?" Your wife's voice makes your memory fade as the window comes back into view, the patter of rain drops against it and the occasional clap of thunder. Strong inked arms come to wrap around your middle and you lean back into her.

     "Thinking," you tease, reaching up to scratch her jaw with your nails and she growls into your palm at your answer. "You know me well enough to know,"

      "Mmmmm," she hums as her chin rests on your shoulder. She does know exactly what storms remind you of, which is why she'd abandoned her workout in the garage to find you. Usually you'd be in the basement trying to drown out the sound but she had found you in the master bedroom in-front of the glass balcony doors. Your silhouette illuminated by snaps of lighting. “I love you,"

“I love you more “ you tilt your head back to look at her, you tell her you love her all the time but you gaze into her eyes trying to tell her how much you mean it each time. She places gentle kisses on your neck as her hands slide down to your front, you feel her warm palms press against your hips, pushing you further against her body.

“I love you most, I win,” she growls into your nape and you let out a soft breath at the feeling, a pleasant warmth swells in your chest. Her strong hands grip at your hip bones and it sends lighting straight to your core. You turn to face her and the loving gaze she’s holding you with. “Hi pretty girl,” she rasps to you.

“Hi,” you respond and smile before her lips are on yours and her tongues in your mouth. You let out a satisfied hum as her hand comes up to thread through your hair, holding you tightly against her. You’re both overwhelmed by emotions as your kiss gets messier, thinking about the days when you hadn’t been out and married to the love of your life. You gently separate from her mouth, “I need you,” you tell her, your lips brushing against hers as you beg for her. You feel the tell tale sign of her gripping at your waist band and you lift onto your toes and she pulls you to wrap around her body.

“God you’re beautiful,” Rhea admires you, your foreheads pressed together as your breaths mingle. You brush her bangs away from her face and she stares at you above her, she watches you like you’re the stars.

“Take me to bed,” you ask her and although you cannot be closer you need more, you need to be the place that’s always been the safest; enclosed by Rheas body.

“Did somebody forget who’s in charge?” She teases and she nibbles your ear lobe, you whine and squirm in protest which gets you a light slap to your ass but you feel Rhea start to move towards the bed anyway. Your back hits the soft mattress and your wife crawls over to join you.

“I let that last one go,” she tells you as her fingers running under the hem of your shirt and up the side of your ribs, her gaze flicks back out the window. She wants you to know that you’re okay, she understands it’s a hard night for you, “but act like a brat again and I’ll treat ya like one,” she gently slaps the bottom of your thigh a couple times before you bend it and her strong grip holds you.

“Rhea,” you gasp as her teeth hit your collarbone followed by the soothing of her tongue. She chuckles lowly and pulls your tank top up over your stomach, you sit up quickly helping her rip it off.

“There’s my good girl,” Rhea praises your obedience and you melt a little more, your body pliant as she pressed you back down to the mattress. Her mouth is warm as she sucks marks onto your bare chest before taking a hardened bud, you throw your head backwards as you let out a moan.

The memories of your past fade a little more each time she teaches you true worship and only with her do you start to believe the priest who outed you might’ve actually been divine intervention. In the morning when you wake up next to her you’re certain angels exist, they simply must with one laying in front of you and in the night before you fall asleep you find your faith kneeling at her altar. You aren’t afraid that your love would cast you to hell, not when the goddess above you brings you pure bliss that you swear it must be what heaven really is.

[woniefull]

Jealous

it's my right to feel hellish i still get jealous

sypnosis: you were always the jealous one, but what if one day the roles were reversed?

warnings: fem!xjay, jealousy, just a bit suggestive if you squint

a/n: not proof read + feedback is always welcomed

wc: ??

"not now ______."

jay goes to grab his cologne sitting on top of you vanity.

"right because we can only talk things out when you're in the mood for it."

that was a lie and you knew it. but you were so frustrated that you couldn't seem to care.

jay and you rarely got into arguments. however, when arguments did arise they would get pretty heated.

this one seemed to be your fault. you had spotted jay with a girl earlier today. it was so obvious she was flirting and you couldn't believe that jay was just standing there like an idiot.

you were the jealous and heated one in the relationship. whereas jay seemed to be more laidback. but at the same time, you never gave him a reason to be jealous. you never entertained anyone who would try to get at you.

deep down you knew jay wasn't doing it on purpose. he was a bit naive at times. but it hurt because it was a recurring problem that he seemed to brush off almost all the time.

"look babe let's just try to enjoy our time at the party okay? let's not let this fight ruin our night."

jay is facing you now and his arm reaches for your waist. you step back to avoid his touch causing him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

"you're always dismissing my feelings jay."

"i promise we can talk about this after the day is over. this is our last college party. i know how much you were looking forward to this day."

jay tries his best to sound sympathetic. he knows how much of a party freak you are, in fact, both of you had met at a college party during your freshman year.

"honestly not so much anymore. i'll be leaving with karina, don't wait up."

and with that, you were gone. jay was left alone with his thoughts and a deep sense of guilt.

"ooo girl you look nice."

and you did. you wore a short black dress that stopped right above your mid-thigh. it had an open back and tied around your neck.

you smiled at karina as your hands tied the straps of your black heels.

"thank you love, you look gorgeous."

karina always made your mood better. so when you finally arrived at the party, your argument with jay earlier was already off your mind.

"okay i can tell you're feeling down and i know what will cheer you right up!"

you laughed as she dragged you by your wrist into what seemed to be the kitchen. karina started talking to a blonde-haired guy. she quickly looked back at you, and the guy did the same.

"this is my friend jake! jake this is my best friend _____!"

he was a good looking guy, didn't seem to be too far off from jay's age.

"nice to meet you jake! care to let me know why karina seems to want to introduce me to you?"

jake chuckled as he ran a hand through his fluffy hair.

"she said you weren't in the best mood and let's just say..."

he picks up some of the alcoholic beverages that were spread out on the table and presented them to both you and karina.

"i know a couple ways we can have fun."

it had been around an hour since you first started drinking. you were dancing with karina drunk off your asses.

"i swear jake's drinks hit different karina. what does he put in them?"

karina wraps her arms around your neck and you both sway to the beat of the music together.

"i honestly don't know bu- wait isn't that jay over there."

oh right jay

you had completely forgotten that he was even here.

okay maybe not completely. however, you tried your best not to think of him at all, because every time you did, it made you upset.

you couldn't help but look at where karina was pointing.

"ofcourse."

another girl touching up on jay and there he was allowing it. although he wasn't paying any mind to her and was scanning the room with his eyes, it was honestly infuriating and annoying.

jay's eyes met yours and he started to walk towards your direction.

"i heard a game starting let's go karina."

it was now your turn to drag her and lead her away from the crowd. you spotted jake sitting in the living room with about 15 other people.

"what game?"

jake looked up at the sound of your voice and smiled once his eyes laid sight on you.

"truth or dare or take a shot."

"nice, we want to play."

jake scooted over to make space for the both of you. karina was giving you a worried look knowing how bad you'd get when pissed off and drunk.

Ignoring karina's concern, you shrugged her off. jay's behavior irritated you, prompting a desire for revenge. you wanted him to understand your frustration. watching him sit across from you, his frown deepened at the closeness between you and Jake. an idea immediately popped up in your head.

karina leaned her ear towards your lips as you whispered in her ears. her face of alarm instantly shifted into a sly smirk.

"you got it girl."

jake had started off the game so your turn had come up almost immediately. trying your best to not smile, you looked over at karina after you had chosen dare.

"don't make me do anything too crazy."

karina giggled and looked over at jay.

"i dare you to sit on any boy's lap here for 15 minutes."

jay's head perked up. he processed what karina had just said, his calm demeanor started to turn into an anxious one. turning his focus back to you he positioned himself, ready for you.

"hmm okay."

you got up, with your dress riding up a bit. jay's eye twitched at the way jake looked at you.

"i choose...."

you turned to jake. poor guy, his eyes brightened almost right away. maybe it would've been him if he sat somewhere else. but for now, the guy sitting next to jay would have to do.

let's see how he feels having something he wants so close to him but can't have.

turning towards jay's direction you saw his toungue poking at his inner cheek. you screamed internally. he only ever did that when he was heavily ticked off.

he quickly realized what you were trying to do as you began to eye the guy next to him.

"i choose you."

pointing at the guys beside jay you turned to plop yourself on his lap.

tried to.

a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and you found yourself on someone else's lap.

jay.

you squirmed trying your best to get away.

he only held onto you tighter as he slowly nibbled at your ear.

"i think that's enough."

"you don't get to tell me what's enough!."

somehow you managed to break free from his embrace and started making your way outside.

jay followed right behind you.

thank god he couldn't see the smile forming on your face right now.

"______ stop walking."

"no."

"c'mon let's go home and talk it out."

"now you want to talk? well i don't want to."

talking back to jay was your favorite thing to do. he always looked his best when he was pissed off.

"sweetheart please."

"i said no! now fuck off."

honestly, you don't even know where that came from but you might have regretted it.

key word, might.

because before you knew it jay had you slumped over his shoulder, with one hand laid on your ass and the other reaching for his keys.

"i don't know who you think you're talking to but i know it's not me."

"jay let me down!"

"stop acting like you don't like this princess."

and with that you stayed silent.

he knew you so well.

you slowly opened your eyes as light began to make it's way into your shared bedroom. rubbing at them you turn away from the window just to meet jay's eyes already looking at you.

"i'm sorry."

his hand starts to caress your face.

"jay you apologized about a thousand times already. and i've said it's okay about a thousand times now too."

jay pouted and pulled you to his chest.

"i know but i want to make it up to you. i feel horrible. i promise i'll never make you feel like that ever again."

wrapping your arms around his waist, you took his scent in.

"i think last night was enough of an apology from you."

jay chuckles and looks back down at you.

"hmm maybe trying to apologize again wouldn't hurt?"

[lalal-99]

of timeless love {h.j.} | track 1

©March 2023, February 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 2.6k

Synopsis: You and your annoyingly adorable boyfriend Jisung move off to university, to make new friends, find a calling and learn how to live on your own for the very first time in your lives.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I first thought of this story about a year and a half ago. I didn't feel ready at the time, but as I got better over the years, I picked this story up again. Updates might be slow, so bear with me please

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

You, 6 years ago, wouldn’t have bought this romantic af, straight out of a fairy-tale storyline.

You going to University? With the love of your life? Like the picture-perfect couple, smiles glued to your face? Nuh-uh. Not you. Not in this lifetime and most likely not in the next dozen—if you ever were so unlucky.

Family, love, college. All of it was bullshit. Temporary.

Nothing good ever lasted. If anything, a dark twist was already lurking around the next corner at any given moment. You couldn’t imagine a dimension in which you were ever happy. Let alone content.

Your 14-year-old emo self would never grow out of the jet-black hair. Or the countless piercings decorating your face. Or those cole-coloured ripped skinny jeans you wore like a second skin. So much you knew. Past-you only ever wanted to gloom through life in a hazy blur. Depressed about My Chemical Romance breaking up and all the other hardships life had already put you through.

That girl would have despised who you had become. Hair grown back to its natural colour. Wearing shirts without some underground metal band’s logo printed on the front. That girl would have likely made fun of you for even thinking about grades. And your future? If you ever had one, your 14-year-old self knew it would include nothing but darkness and despair.

Every teenager around you went through that phase, though you were sure it was more than that. A phase. A short and survivable part of your story. You fully and whole-heartedly believed nothing would ever change about your attitude towards life. It couldn’t, not after everything that had happened.

Overcoming that horrible chapter of your life seemed unimaginable. That you even got the chance to reach out and grab your future by its horns only had one reason. One person who was to become the most meaningful part of your life. Of the same future, he was the reason you even considered having.

Han Jisung.

A boy of innocence and noisy introversion. A boy who, despite having lived through similar trauma as yourself, had a will for life toxic enough to capture you. A boy who you became sure was the closest thing to a soulmate you would ever find.

No one could have prepared you for how hard you’d fall for Jisung. You loved him at his best, worst, and everything between. And you had fallen in love with him despite his lousy sense of humour and silly persona. Or maybe, you had fallen for him because of it. Because he had a similar story to yours but an opposite look at it.

Your 14-year-old, always-depressed, doom-certain-self could have never imagined being with someone like him. Let alone being head-over.heels. All while doing what? Watching him do something so mediocre and none-life changing as buying toothbrushes?

“I don’t know. Which ones do you think?”

Jisung presented you two indistinguishable packs of toothbrushes, waking you from your daydream. Thus, the blurriness faded and your eyes focused on the tiny words on each cover.

“These,” you decided on the left option. “Those bristles are too hard for your gums.”

“Oh, we definitely can’t have that.” With a dramatically disgusted expression, he returned the wrong set to its place on the shelf. “I want to keep at least some of my teeth.”

“Thankfully,” you agreed with a snicker. His words cracked you up more than they should have.

No doubt, your 14-year-old self would have hated yourself six years later.

“Okay. What else is on that magic list of yours?”

“Microwave popcorn and some instant ramen. And we should get some notebooks and highlighters for tomorrow. That’s it.” You listed the remaining articles off the slip of paper while crossing out the products you had retrieved from the hygiene section. “Should we split up?”

“Nah. That’s how they die in horror movies. And I’m not going out in the food court of a 7/11.”

“Fair. How about the Back-to-School aisle then?”

Jisung pondered his reply as he wandered past toothpaste and mouthwash. “Too many pens for people to draw penises on my face. The cleaning section, however? That’s a whole other conversation.”

“How come?”

“Well, there’s bleach and mops already. Also, buckets. So they can simply wheel my corpse away.”

As you walked by the pasta and other canned foods, you picked up a tray of ramen each. For convenience, if anything. Had it not been for the thinness of your wallet, you would have gone for fresher produce. So much for independent living.

With an intensive focus on your absurd conversation—Jisung listing places he would most likely die in if he were a character in a horror movie—you didn’t notice a tray of stacked goods blocking the path. It wasn’t until you bumped your shin on the square-edged tower that you finally took notice.

As a wave of pain swallowed your leg, you left out a shriek. “Gosh freakin’ dang it!”

“You good, baby?” His concern was genuine, though he couldn’t help smiling at your desperate attempt not to swear. “Let me see.”

Jisung kneeled in front of you, noticing a reddening wound once he had dragged the jean fabric up your leg.

“Just a bruise.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one feeling like your skin is being dragged off your flesh.”

“No. But I can make it better.”

He rose to his feet, arms hugging your frame as he picked you up without any effort. You giggled as he heaved you into the cart, careful not to squish the food.

“What are you doing?”

“No girlfriend of mine should have to walk when she’s in pain,” Jisung explained, helping you get settled. Pushing the crushable goods out of the way, you sat on the cans. Not the most comfortable seating, but it worked, nevertheless.

“Damn, those other girls are lu-cky.”

Jisung was pleased at how casually you had joined in on his joke. A smile formed on his lips as he pushed you along the shelves of seasonal produce.

You soon reached the Back-to-School aisle. There you took your sweet time deciding on notebook formats and highlighter colours. It kept surprising you how much fun it was to go grocery shopping when done with the right people. Everything was about 50 percent less boring because of Jisung. Jisung and his ability to find something ridiculous in anything and everything.

After you had made some other critical decisions—like which folders would make organising the year easiest, the ones with dogs or flowers in front—you finished up your school-supply-run.

When you reached the cash register, you noticed the strange looks the other customers gave you. Two young adults strolling through a supermarket, pushing each other in grocery carts? Definitely side-eye-worthy.

Maybe you would have cared more had you not been so enticed by Jisung’s mindless humming of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.

“What?” Jisung questioned your glances as he started unloading the items from the cart.

“Nothing.” You joined him, unloading all the trays of food you had picked minutes earlier. “This feels weird. Going grocery shopping together. Feels grown-up somehow.”

“We go grocery shopping once a week,” he declared with a thoughtful pout.

“But that’s different.”

After you had emptied out your purchase, he wheeled you further down the band. The woman behind the cash register seemed equally interested in you as all the customers. Soon enough, she continued doing her job.

“You mean because we didn’t have to pay for it ourselves?” He held his hand to his heart as if heartbroken. “I miss your dad, too. Always so kind, paying for all our stuff.”

You chuckled at his playful sincerity.

“No, idiot.” As Jisung reloaded the cart, you payed for this week’s necessities. “Because we’re grocery shopping on our own, living off at uni. We have officially moved out of our home, living in the big city. It’s— new. That’s it.”

As soon as you had reached the exit, you picked reached for the strawberries, unable to abstain any longer. Strolling towards his car, you handed one over to your boyfriend while sucking on your own. Like the gentleman he was, Jisung helped you jump from the car and you packed everything into the trunk.

Once you had placed the cart back by the others, you finally headed home. Or rather, the dorm room you would be living in for the next four years.

You weren’t at that point of calling it your home yet.

A comfortable silence surrounded you throughout your drive. It remained while you stacked away your half of the food back at your place and lasted until you finished. This sort of silence wasn’t uncommon these many years into your relationship—you hardly noticed it anymore.

“Man, all this talk about horror movies makes me want to watch one.” That you hadn’t mentioned this topic for over 30 minutes seemed irrelevant.

“But you’re horrible with horror movies,” you pointed out.

“Not when you’re there to protect me.”

An hour later you were sprawled out on your bed, the last sweet strawberry long gone.

With your legs entangled, Jisung’s face rested on your chest as you massaged his scalp. After minutes of fruitless discussion, Spiderman was now webbing his way through your laptop screen. In the end, it really didn’t matter what movie was playing. It never did as long as you were with each other.

Not even 20 minutes into the movie, Jisung had fallen asleep on top of you. His faint snoring was now mere background noise as you followed the plot, ehich wasn’t as simple as it sounded. Your energy was more than drained from running around all day.

Only three days ago, you had still been back home. Packing for your upcoming move to a new city, two hours from every place you had grown up in. The one thing keeping you calm throughout the stress was your sweetheart-boyfriend. To no one’s surprise. He was the only person able to keep you sane when all you wanted was to scream and cry. Had you not had him by your side, you would have drowned in all the noise your brain usually produced.

His ability to calm your nerves when you needed him to—know when to make you laugh or when to distract you from your everyday stresses—surprised you to this day. You couldn’t begin to explain how you had been lucky enough to find someone like him. Someone you loved as much as you had seen your parents do when you were younger. Let alone how he loved you the same way, almost self-destructively so.

Your 14-year-old self would have called bs. But that girl was someone else—you, but in another lifetime. You but pre-Jisung.

When the door to your room rushed open, it pulled you from your quiet slumber. You had turned off the lights earlier to set the mood but still knew the intruder was your roommate. Besides you two, only Jisung knew the code to your dorm—a decision you had previously discussed with your new roomie, of course. Seeing as he was knocked out on top of you, you could cross him off your list of possible visitors at 8 pm on a Monday.

Adapting her eyes to the darkness, she checked her surroundings before tiptoeing into the room. The light remained off as she expected you to be asleep.

“Hey,” you greeted the dark-haired beauty, making her jump in surprise at the sudden noise.

“Fu—God! You scared me.” With one hand over her heart, your roomie calmed herself from your unexpected jump-scare. Once her heart rate had settled, she slipped out of her heels and left them by the end of her bed. “Is he asleep?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, letting your finger run along his jaw to check. He didn’t move, so you knew he was most likely out for the night. “Long night?”

She gagged with an eye roll, pulling her jeans off her legs and exchanging them for grey sweatpants. “Don’t get me started. I haven’t even started writing my thesis, and it’s already kicking my ass.”

You watched her as she also changed out of her dress shirt and into an off-the-shoulder crop top. She slipped into a pair of sneakers while making her way to her dresser where she sprayed herself in a cloud of perfume.

“You’re leaving again?”

“Yup. I spent so much time at the library today, I apparently neglected,” she air-quoted with an eye roll, “my girlfriend. At least that’s what she said.”

“The things we do to keep our loved ones happy.”

“Exactly.” Unleashing her long curls from a tight ponytail, she ran her fingers through them for a few seconds. Her beach-waves veiled her face, so she pushed them behind her ears to instead frame her near-perfect features. “Anyway, I’m staying at hers tonight, so don’t wait up for me.”

“Okay,” you agreed with a yawn, your roommate replying with a deep chuckle.

The past few days, you had mainly spent in your new room, settling in and getting ready for the start of the semester. You liked planning ahead, knowing your life was organised to a T, so you could focus on the important stuff. Your studies, and your boyfriend.

Your roommate seemed to have most of the same priorities. She had gone out every night since you moved in, be it to study at the library or spend some time with her better half. However she managed to squeeze in all the partying? You had no clue. You could only hope some of her togetherness rubbed off on you. But then again, never judge a book.

“I’m going to take you out one of these days. You are not going to be sitting inside all year. Not on my watch.”

Spending the first two days inside, you must have looked like the biggest couch potato ever.

“Sounds good.”

As she waltzed towards the door, you grabbed her attention one last time. The hallway lights blinded you with their brightness, framing her curves in a halo.

“Oh, and Hwasa?” She turned to face you, looking like she had jumped straight off a Vogue cover. How she did that without trying was a mystery to you. “Can you not tell Wheein he’s sleeping over? I wouldn’t want my first warning on the third day already.”

“Babe, as long as you’re my roommate, my dorm-supervisor-girlfriend won’t dare write you up. Just don’t set anything on fire, and you’re solid.”

With that, she waved goodbye, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. Well, apart from the ever-so-handsome Tom Holland, who somehow made full-body suits look like a reasonable choice of clothing.

Not soon after, your eyes fell close, sending you off into a deep rest.

Next Chapter >>>

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[darkforestfae-tea]

How Studying Witchcraft Changed Nature

This ended up being way longer than I was anticipating.

Grab a tea or coffee (I’m a both girl, depends on the mood!) and a snack and buckle in! I promise it’s worth the read. 

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ CHILDHOOD ₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ I’ve always loved nature. Being outside, playing outside as a kid, it was always so magical. Growing up me and my friends would go into these woods that were behind my grandparents house and just hang out literally all day. I remember we would clear out this small spot by the creek and just sit and read books or just talk. I remember once we brought a pot and a box of Mac and cheese and tried to start a small bonfire to cook it. yes the fire was contained and safe. We knew fire safety. There was this one fallen tree that landed perfectly to create a bridge crossing over the creek. We called it the “Bridge to Terabithia” I know I’m aging myself here.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ Religious Searching

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

When I started researching around religiously, I came upon Bohemian Christianity first. I was raised in a household that was predominantly Christian, but it wasn’t for me.

Upon further researching, I decided that route wasn’t for me either. It was slightly better; I was interested in the history of the Romans but it was all still heavily involved with Christianity.

Absolutely no hate on either religion, it’s just not for me.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ Stumbling Forward

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Not long after deciding I was going to keep looking, I stumbled onto Wicca. I don’t exactly remember how- this was when I was 16, so 12 years ago. I want to say I was looking up nature based religions to see what came up.

I started out just reading whatever I could. I’d lay in bed scrolling through articles on my phone when I was supposed to be sleeping. I’d get books about Wicca & watch YouTube channels. I took notes before I discovered what a Book of Shadows or a Grimoire even was.

I knew grimoire but only from pop culture.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ Was Wicca what I was searching for?

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

I loved almost every aspect of Wicca. I loved the nature based, how the deities were, simply put, just personifications of the elementals & nature. I loved how relaxing it was. I loved how everything was green… and white.

Now I’m not one to use the terms “white magic” or “black magic”. Or good and bad. Chaotic or Orderly. This was one of the things I didn’t like about Wicca. I don’t believe magic is only good or only bad. I believe there is just- magic. A balance.

Another thing I wasn’t a huge fan of was honestly the Wiccan Rede. As a poem itself, it was nice. I liked the way it read. I liked what it stood for. However, there is a lot of Wiccan practitioners that are taking that rede to the letter and if you research it a certain amount you will find that some Wiccan don’t even use the Wiccan Rede and there’s definitely different eclectic versions, but a high majority balances off of that we can read, and it gave me impressions of the Bible with Christianity.

I also am not bashing on Wicca. I’m not bashing on the rede. I wanna make that clear.

I followed Wicca for almost 6 years. I studied the different types. I studied the Celtic Wicca and the British traditional Wicca, even though I’m not British and I studied the Gardenarian & the Alexandrian. And eventually just the Eclectic Solitary. I then realized that what I am following could be classified as an eclectic solitary Wiccan. or I could not use Wiccan at all in the title and it wouldn’t make a difference because what I wasn’t what would traditionally be called “Wicca”.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ Still Following Nature

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

During all of my religious searching I was still sticking to what I knew and what I enjoyed. I went on nature-walks on a weekly basis. I gathered things I found from outside to use on my altar (which was a windowsill at the time- and currently.)

When gathering things from outdoors on my walks, it wouldn’t be any specific item. I didn’t go out and say “I need to find a pinecone today. My altar needs a pinecone.” Instead I let it speak to me.

I very distinctly remember this one item I gathered. I was walking along this wilderness trail in my hometown, and I was looking up ahead of me mostly, as it was a rocky terrain and I didn’t want to trip. I had an urge to look down suddenly, and when I did I spotted this leaf. It was bright red, and it was the only one that was that color. It was perfectly preserved- no hungry bug holes, or rips or tears. I decided to pick it up and carry it with me for the remainder of the walk.

Generally I would gather things during the walk, and then at the end of the trail, go over what I gathered and see which ones I should bring home. The ones I didn’t end up keeping I left at the base of a tree for the Guardians to keep, along with something from my bag. As long as it was nature friendly.

Before researching witchcraft I was never had that intuition with nature. That random pull to look, or stop, or keep going.

I never stopped to feel the trees, the breeze, the rocks. The energy that pulled through them. That got me started on Energy work.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ Energy Work

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Energy work, when starting, is difficult. You have to have a grounded state of mind, and balanced energy points to really grasp control. as someone who suffers with depression believe me this was no easy task.

I am planning on making some Energy Work projects specifically, so I won’t go too in depth here. But I highly suggest sitting with your back to a tree, and just seeing if you can feel it. Try to sync your breathing or your own energy flow with that of the tree.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊ I Found Home

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Eventually I found home. I found where I felt the most comfortable. And some may argue and say it’s still Wicca, or it’s this label or that label. But to me, it’s just mine. And It’s just Nature.

And if I never would have stumbled upon Wicca & Witchcraft & Paganism I never would have found the difference it can make with how you view the natural world around you.

Thank you so much for reading! This took me a few days to put together and I am so happy of how it turned out.

if you read all of it, leave a comment of your favorite thing about Nature, or your favorite thing to collect! I’d love to hear them.

— All pictures from Pinterest.

Thank you for Reading! I absolutely love sharing my knowledge & learnings with others. I try to make posts a few times a week! & they are all organized on my profile.

Until we cross paths once more! Best wishes to all you wonderful witches! Warm regards, Tea.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

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Pagans & Witches Amino @ darkforestfae

[poly-mc]

Lore dump

CW: Blurred line between IC and OOC under the cut; trauma

My OC, Poly MC, is basically just me. I came up with that, after figuring out that I have feelings for all the brothers in the game Obey Me. This lead me to believe that I'm ambiamorous🦋

For more info on me, you can see my intro🪷

Full name: Fairwish Chanzé Breytenbach

Birthday: 25 February 2002

Age: 22

Gender: A fairy sitting on a leaf, looking over a beach and the ocean, under a starlit nightsky. I am that fairy🧚🏽✨️

My own flavour of non-binary 💛🤍💜🖤

Pronouns: Sea/star

*Please see my intro for a more in-depth explanation on that

How to use: Sea is cooking for starself. Basically, you replace "she" with "sea" and "her" with "star"

Sexuality: Pansexual

Nationality: South African

Race: Mixed (50% Black, 50% White)

Culture: Afrikaans and Zulu

Height: 5'1 (157cm)

Things I like doing: Colouring🧑🏽‍🎨, painting 🎨 video games 🎮(I played A LOT of Nintendo 3Ds as a kid, but now I mostly play Genshin and Sky)🎮, mobile games; 420 (eating and smoking)🍃, jigsaw puzzles🧩, cooking 🧑🏽‍🍳(my parents never tought me how to cook, so now I'm experimenting and teaching myself)🍲, singing🎤 (I guess I'm okay🤷🏽), dancing🕺🏽 (at least I have fun😂), writing poetry✒️

Likes: My boys❤️, my rp kids💖, my Bubba🐱❤️my bio mom🫂❤️, food, music, anime, animals, making people happy, rain, the ocean

Dislikes: My adoptive mom (she's narcissistic), hurting people, pedophiles, bigots, Trump

What I look like/Selfie dump:

I don't take a lot of pictures of myself, because I don't really like the way that I look most of the time😅 Recently, that's been getting a lot better though, since I got top surgery, started showering regularly again and taking better care of my hair. This allowed me to find a look that I really like on myself🤩 These are the only pictures of me that I feel comfortable posting right now, though ☺️😅

I'm an AuDHD-er (autism is self-diagnosed) and am currently recovering from what I suspect is burnout. I'm pretty sure I burnt out during high school. When I was in school, I always had to work harder than everyone else in class, on account of being the slowest. I write slower, make more mistakes and sometimes it takes me longer to process information. A lot of times, this caused me to hold everyonein class back with lessons and made me feel very ashamed. Every year, with a new class, I knew that I was the slowest out of everyone there. I also have a really hard time studying, without writing everything down or highlighting everything.

Everything started going downhill in 10th grade (16 yrs). It was really scary, having to watch as my grades/marks went down more and more with every passing term. Mostly in Science and Maths and sometimes EGD (Engineering Graphics and Design). No matter how much or how hard or how smart I worked, they just kept going down. If they weren't going down, they were stagnant. And I was the nerd. I was constantly spending my time with my nose in a book, or doing some type of homework or studying. Every afternoon, immediately after school (and all evening), even during breaktime/lunch - I would sit and do homework. I never went out with friends, went to parties or sleepovers (in high school. I did have and go to sleepoves in primary school, though. Those were fun). My whole life revolved around school. In high school, I didn't really have close friends. You know when you're friends with someone, but you only ever see them in school? It was like that. Those were the only friends I had in high school. So, essentially, I didn't really feel like I belonged anywhere.

Electrical Technology was fun, though🙃 I was the only "girl" in class, so being the top student and getting better grades than the boys that bullied me, felt that much better 😆😂

Having my final year in 2020, really did it for me. 2019 is the last time I remember everything being "normal". I still have a semblance of regret for not being able to have that high school anime (love) story that everyone talks about. *Sigh🌸* It was also really tough, knowing that that was our year of lasts and we didn't get to do all the things that students usually do in that year. I still remember the feeling of not being able to hug my teachers or my friends, how empty, quiet and orderly the hallways felt. Lifeless...It was horrible.

I could go on, but I think I'm going to end it here🌿 I feel that's enough trauma for today😂 Remember, if you have any questions my asks are always open🌼 I'm pretty much an open book with people I feel safe around and I feel really safe and loved in this community🫶🏽 So, I don't really mind talking about my trauma and past experiences with you guys 🤷🏽 Don't expect that from other people, though 🙅🏽 They might not be as comfortable about it. Just because I am, doesn't mean that they will be too.

Okay, bye🌻

[ms-kio]

Demon(slayer?)hood

Izuku Midoriya, Eri X Demon Slayer! 2296 Words

“Remember, boy. If you see me, run. I’m only about four hundred years old then. I will not recognize you.” The six-eyed demon commanded his pupil, the only sign of his aging being the silver white hair streaking his ponytail.

Izuku bowed, “Hai Sensei!” He said, the necklace gifted to him bouncing off his chest as he righted himself.

“And hide that necklace.” Kokushibo reminded Izuku. “Having one of my eyes on you is an immediate trial in the Demon Slayer Corps, and potential execution.” The boy nodded, tucking the jewelry under his shirt.

“I’ll only use it as a last resort.” Next to Izuku was a little girl, Eri. Since Overhaul had been imprisoned and not killed, she had no faith in her safety anywhere in this world. She was eager to step through the rip in reality behind her, to leave forever.

Kokushibo stood up, walking around his desk and embracing the two silently. He didn’t ask if they wanted to turn back, or change their minds. All he did was shove them through the portal, turning to face a mask, and a pair of golden eyes.

~ ~ ~

Izuku immediately turned, frantically looking for Eri. Where was she? He drew his Scorpion Stinger, wandering into the forest at the sound of rustling leaves. “You! Bow to the power of the Great Inosuke!” Now, Izuku knew someone named Katsuki Bakugou, and immediately recognized the attitude.

“Fight me!” The greenette shouted back. “Whoever wins has to help the other with one request!”

The boy paused for a minute, as if not believing what he was hearing. “Finally! Someone wants to fight me! Bring it on!” Inosuke howled, charging Izuku. The youngest of the Midoriya Family expertly sheathed his sword, entering a grappling match with his new friend.

Eventually, Midoriya decided to end their match, taking a deep breath in. ‘Broccoli Breathing, Friendship Bat!’ Izuku landed a roundhouse kick on Inosukes skull, causing the boy to collapse, his boar mask falling off and revealing one of the prettiest faces he had ever seen. But not as pretty as Eri���s, of course. Izuku picked Inosuke up, along with his mask, carrying him down the path towards the Final Selection, which Kokushibo told him he needed to attend if he wanted assistance from the demon slayers in any significant way.

Izuku had planned on just living a quiet life with Eri as his pseudo sister, but now with her missing -most likely separating in the portal- he needed all the help he could get.

: : :

About an hour later, Izuku had taken a break from carrying Inosuke, stopping by a river to bathe himself. The water was cold at first, but felt nice against his scars. Scars he had earned in only his first year of hero training.

The boy had given up heroism after the year was over. It had become too much for him, and he wanted to preserve himself for the people who he loved; Every inch of unscarred flesh, and every bone left unshattered in his body. He’d given OFA to Aizawa-sensei to give to students of his choosing, teaching the man how to separate the quirks and transfer them individually with Quirk Pass and how to use them over the summer. However, Aizawa had decided to have Izuku keep Danger Sense and Black Whip, being one of the few who knew of Izuku's plans to enter a world of demons, with a little girl to protect.

They had delivered the news in a last minute fashion to his classmates (aside from Bakugou), only telling them that he would be leaving, and not coming back. Izuku had cried when he told them, but he didn’t regret it. He couldn’t bear to look at the world he lived in any longer, cloaking disdain for it every minute of every day he was allowed to let his thoughts stew.

And what better place to go than Kokushibos own world? A place he might be able to find something familiar without wishing it wasn’t there.

Izuku was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Inosuke join him in the river until now, quiet and with his back turned as he washed himself. His mask and clothes were on the riverbank with Izuku's belongings, however, they weren't folded like the greenette’s was.

The duo continued to respectfully ignore each other until the hour was up, when they both left the river to dry and get dressed.

“Inosuke-san.” Midoriya spoke up after a minute, drawing the boy's attention. “Are you alright?” Inosuke paused for a minute, before sparkling and answering.

“Yup!” The bluette replied. “I was being quiet because creatures usually don’t like to talk while they are vulnerable, or their scars are present.”

Izuku smiled, then grinned. “Thank you Inosuke. By the way, what is your full name?” He asked.

“Hashibira! Hashibira Inosuke! What is your name, person-I-owe-a-favor-to?” Hashibira asked in turn, still sparkling.

“Midoriya Izuku.” The boys sparkling intensified, causing Izuku to shield his eyes. “Tone it down, will you?” The sparkling went down, and Izuku was able to see again. “My little sister went missing. She has pale blue hair and red eyes. Would you look for her when we part ways?”

“Fine! I will find your sister! You can count on it!”

~ ~ ~

Eri opened her eyes, looking around. Where was she? Where was Izuku?!

Suddenly, the horned girl heard the strike of a biwa, and her surroundings changed. She was on a tatami mat floor, in a room that had walkways and stairs on the ceiling and walls, appealing to have infinite surfaces in every direction. "W-where am I?" She asked quietly, too confused to be scared. "You are in the Infinity fortress, young one." A femenine voice replied. Up on a raised platform, a woman holding a biwa looked down at Eri. "Tell me girl. Are you human? Can you walk in the sunlight?" Eri nodded, hesitantly looking around. The woman struck her biwa again, teleporting next to Eri, causing her to jump a little. "Sit, girl. What is your name?" Eri sat down obediently next to the woman,"My name is Eri Aizawa."

~ ~ ~

Nakime glanced at the girl, noticing the exhaustion on her face. "Come, girl." She said, putting her biwa down. "You look tired, you can lie on my lap." The pale blue haired girl cast her a thankful look, accepting Nakimes offer and almost immediately falling soundly asleep, in what looked like the first time in days.

Not an hour later though, Nakime sensed the Upper Moons. They were granted permission by Muzan to enter whenever they pleased, much to her irritation, so Muzan allowed her to kick them out after 24 hours if they were too bothersome. Kokushibo and Akaza were never a problem, Daki and Gyutaro mostly minded their own business, but the other three could get annoying as hell. It was even worse when Doma and Akaza were in the same area, she always had to clean up their messes. Though, she really couldn't blame the ladder.

Kokushibo was the first to reach Nakime and the sleeping girl, much to her thankfulness, who seemed to catch on to the situation and went to quiet the loud ones. Namely Doma, but the others too. Roughly 15 minutes later, the others arrived.

They were all quiet, much to Nakimes temporary relief, until Doma opened his mouth. "Aw! How cute!" He said quietly, to everyone's surprise. But, he wasn't quiet enough. The girl jumped, clutching onto Nakimes kimono in fear, snapping awake instantly. The biwa demon glared at the blonde, placing a hand on the girl's shaking form.

"Doma, you fool." Akaza hissed. "Kokushibo said to be quiet." The demon promptly decapitated Doma with his hand, veins bulging.

"I was just trying to be nice!" Doma protested.

Nakimes anger had been steadily rising, but immediately simmered down when the girl stopped shaking, standing up and timidly approaching the decapitated head. The gore didn't seem to bother her as blood dripped onto her feet, proceeding to hold the head up to Domas' still standing body. "H-here you go sir." She said quietly, the demon taking his head and putting it back on his head.

"Why thank you little girl!" He said. No longer trying to be quiet, but not loud either. The girl quickly zipped behind Kokushibo, clutching his hakama pant leg as she eyed the other demons cautiously.

~ ~ ~

Kokushibo looked down at the little girl, giving her a questioning look as she returned his gaze. It was silent for a moment as they had a small staring contest, until she wrapped her arms around his legs. "You look like you need a hug." She said, as she closed her eyes and pressed her face into the side of his thigh. The demon's stoic demeanor broke as a small smile graced his face, placing a hand on the girl's head. A calm, peaceful sensation washed over Kokushibo as he ruffled the girl's hair, his eyes falling closed in a happy manner, his smile widening ever so slightly. But, the moment was ruined when the duo heard the metallic clang of one of Domas' fans clattering to the ground.

Kokushibo almost felt bad for his second.

~ ~ ~

As Akaza turned around to face Kokushibo, he saw something he never thought he would ever see in his life. 'Kokushibo is smiling. Upper Moon One is fucking smiling.' Using his compass, Akaza sensed Doma was about to turn around and say something stupid, so he quickly slapped a hand over his superiors mouth, motioning to Kokushibo.

'And Doma stayed quiet. Doma is being quiet- WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?'

~ ~ ~

Muzan Kibutsuji was quite confused when he felt large amounts of panic, shock, and confusion from Akaza. But oddly, Upper Moon Three wasn't dying. This caused Muzans confusion to rise. He looked into Akazas head to hear: 'Kokushibo was smiling. Upper Moon One is fucking smiling.' Akaza then quickly slapped a hand over Domas mouth.

'And Doma stayed quiet. Doma is being quiet- WHAT THE FUCK IS-' And thats where Muzan left Akazas mind.

He then decided to visit Kokushibos head and felt a peaceful serenity in the demon. His eyes were closed, but he could feel a small child hugging the demon's body. From Upper Ones memories, he saw the face of a red eyed girl, with a small, barely noticeable stub of a horn. In the background, the demon king could hear Daki fawning over the girl in her head. Muzan then shifted to Doma, who was stunned to silence, almost feeling bad when the blonde dropped his fan.

~ ~ ~

Eri jumped when she heard a metallic clang, looking over to the blonde man, who seemed relatively shocked. Eri hesitantly let go of the six-eyed man's hakama, walking over and picking up his fan. "S-sir?" She stuttered out, drawing his attention. "You dropped this." The girl held up his fan, seemingly snapping him back to reality.

"Oh, thank you! I was just surprised, it's not often you see Kokushibo-dono smile." The blonde smiled, who Eri remembered his name was Doma, from when Mr. Kokushibo was telling them about his world.

She gave a small nod and hurried over to said pink-haired man, hugging his legs in a similar manner. "You also look like you need a hug." Eri said. This one was Akaza. Kokushibo had described him as one of the better ones, he wouldn't hurt her. She didn't notice Akaza giving Kokushibo a panicked look, asking for advice. The demon only nodded towards the girl's head with his own, prompting the nervous demon to pat Eri on her pale blue locks. Eri didn't notice any of this, only leaning into the demon's touch, happy for the comforting gesture.

Eri then passed out, stressed by the recent development, and light headed from the last blood draw.

~ ~ ~

Akaza panicked again, quickly catching the girl's limp body as she fell. Did he do something wrong?! He glanced around to see the other Upper Moons snickering, even Kokushibo had an amused glint in his eye. Akaza then glanced at Nakime, begging her for answers. She only smiled and gestured to her lap, Akaza quickly placing the girl with her.

"Akasa, you dolt." Daki snickered. "The kid's just tired and stressed. Don't worry your pink-haired head." Akaza sighed in relief, almost wilting. But he, and all the other Upper Moons, went ramrod straight when they sensed Muzan in the room, bowing immediately. Aside from Nakime, who simply straightened in attention.

"Originally, I was going to make her my heir, and train her to be the next Demon Queen." He stated. "However, it seems being with you six would be better for her. Teach the girl the ways of the Upper Moons, only then I will make her the new ruler of demons." Muzan then warped away, presumably returning to his office. All of the demons were shocked at this new development, Muzan was not one to give up even an ounce of his power.

"Well well well!" Doma was the first to speak up. "That is quite interesting! What should we teach her?" He asked.

"I'll teach her hand-to-hand." Akaza offered.

"Swordsmanship." Kokushibo continued.

"I'll teach her how to appear human for when she becomes a demon!" Doma said.

"I'll help with that." Daki also said. "And Gyutaro says he'll teach her about poisons. Hantengu, you and Doma can teach her psychology. And Gyokko, you and Nakime can teach her about music and craftsmanship." The lewd demon ordered, not afraid of her superiors. During this, Nakime had put the girl to bed, much to Akazas relief. He swore, if anything were to happen to her, Akaza would kill everyone in the room and then himself.

~ ~ ~

Muzan choked. What now?!

[streetlightyeri]

and the old men that i've swindled really did believe i was the one

hope that anon who wanted me to write for Javi is still here cause this idea came to me while I was having my weekly Everything Shower and had evermore playing (she's defrosting guys). here's a peek at one of my many wips, this time based off of cowboy like me. I really like the idea of pre-movie Javi where he kind of doesn't care that he's chasing Riggs for money and is willing to do anything to get his business off the ground, which leads him to high society New York where he meets a girl who kind of doesn't care where the money she spends comes from either. trying not to spoil everything, but I really am enjoying writing this so far! I feel like a lot of my FMCs fall into either the grumpy or sunshine archetype, so this FMC is very fun to bring to life.

please let me know how yall feel about this, I feel like this might not have a great reception since this is pre-redemption arc javi with a morally gray FMC, but im really interested in everyones opinions, good or bad.

as always with my tip posts, unproofread. <3

The rain pattered on the tent above the tennis court where Robert Tomlinson IV’s wedding reception was being held. His wife was dressed in a beautiful silk wedding gown, outdoing all the other women in the venue, as to be expected. But from the moment Javi was introduced to her, he couldn’t even remember what the bride looked like.

A business partner of Riggs grabbed him by the elbow, one too many drinks in, and brought him to a standing table towards the center of the room. “Javier, I’d be delighted for you to meet my date for tonight! I think you two would get along wonderfully.”

The way he said his name, so whitely, irked him a bit. But Javi had no room to say no; insulting this man, no matter how drunk, could put an even deeper strain on his relationship with Riggs. And Javi needed his money. While Javi gathered that most of the men in this layer of society had married up (in the sense they married way down their age), he at least expected someone who matched the man in attractiveness. There was no outward signs that this man, who Javi eventually learned was stock broker Albert Hemingway VI and a distant relative to the Belgian royal crown, was a complete and utter creep, but the jokes he laughed at at the bar and the way his eyes lingered a moment too long on his date’s bust made it clear to Javi he was just like the other men in the room who told said jokes. This man, no matter how sleezy, had money and sway and, evidently, was a man Riggs wanted pinned to his lapels.

“Javier, this is my date, Violet.” That’s how Javi found himself eye to eye with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She wore a black silk, floor length gown that he wasn’t sure she’d be able to even sit in, paired with the reddest lipstick he’d ever seen. Her lips were wrapped around a cocktail straw, sipping lightly at the dirty martini in her hand. Her nails were a perfectly manicured nude. And she didn’t seem to care about Javi’s opinion of her at all, if anything, she was judging him. Which was fair in his eyes - he was dressed in his army dress uniform, and who in this walk of life joined the military? He was brushing shoulders with the same people who paid to dodge the Vietnam draft; these were the people whose names were on the buildings and tanks and weapons Javi interacted with every day on base. He had been mistaken as venue staff more than once, empty glasses held out to him by people who didn’t even bother to look away from their conversations.

So, he opted for a tight-lipped smile and nod of acknowledgement for the girl. Her crimson lips pulled into a small smirk. “Hello,” her voice was sultry, a note of an accent that Javi couldn’t place; he just knew that her vowels were wrong, an inkling that she was just as out of place as he was. She just played the part better.

The night proceeded on, Javi’s eyes following Violet the entire time. He had to swerve to avoid glasses and hors d’oeuvre plates being thrust at him. At one point, he accidentally took one as he fixated on the way Violet covered her mouth as she shook her shoulders and crinkled her eyes at one of Hemingway’s jokes; Javi saw the way her mouth stayed stoic behind her hand. Hemingway didn’t look at her long enough to care, instead turning his attention back to his friends. By this point, Violet had abandoned the cocktail straw and downed the rest of her glass when his hand found her waist.

The night continued. Violet was holding her liquor well; Hemingway was not. He was with other men Javi was with at the bar earlier in the night, his forehead connected to the bartop, the other men not far behind. He scanned the crowds, finding her standing outside the coverage of the tent, smoke billowing from her lips. He found himself making his way towards her, the perfectly manicured lawn of the Tomlinson’s Hamptons home squelching under his dress shoes until he made it to the small gazebo she was standing in, alone. It was clear she heard him with the noise his shoes made against the granite floor, but she didn’t turn to look at him. Under the stained glass gazebo, the rain pattered at a more comforting pitch, as though the raindrops were singing to them. A breeze tunneled through the small building. The bottom of her dress was muddied and damp.

“I think you’re in the clear, as far as sleeping with him goes.”

Violet looked at him from the side of her eyes before averting her gaze back to the front. Her voice was coated in that posh accent that he had a feeling wasn’t real. Her Gs weren’t polished and her As extended. “What if I wanted to?”

“Did you?”

She took a long drag before responding to him. “Would you?”

He let a puff of air out from his nose in a humorless laugh. “Would anyone?”

She mimicked him. “He has eight kids.”

Javi’s eyes widened and a real, shocked laugh fell from his lips. “Eight?”

“Yeah, I think he’s hopin’ I can round him out to double digits.” She laughed as well. “He and every other sad, lonely man with too much money on Wall Street.”

From the tent in the distance, a French love song began to play, the live string band increasing their volume, signaling the newlyweds were preparing to depart. A cheer went up by those who were still coherent. Javi repositioned himself, one hand behind his back. He bowed slightly to Violet. “Would you care to dance with me? Have a good moment to remember from this night?”

She tossed the cigarette onto the ground and extinguished it under the toe of her still-wet stiletto. “Dancin’ is a dangerous game, Javier.”

She departed from him, walking back to the tent, no doubt to collect the drunk Hemingway and put him in a limo back across Long Island Sound. He called after her, “It’s Javi.”

She looked back at him over her shoulder, a mischievous grin that Javi couldn’t exactly pinpoint the meaning of. “And it’s not Violet.”

She disappeared into the crowd of people as he gazed down at the extinguished cigarette drenched in red, trying to make out what was her lipstick and what was the moonlight seeping through the red, stained glass rose above him.

[omniflows]

The Deepest Berry

I was on Facebook looking for someone to spend time with when I saw someone that I knew only in passing when I was in high school.

This guy was notorious in the school. The girls seemingly loved him because he was always well dressed and I’ll even assume that there may have been other reasons behind the scenes why they loved him..

To the girls at that school, he was black.. but inside he struggled with accepting that part of himself due to systematic racism in his culture.

It led me to question myself and my own thoughts about blackness and skin color. I am an esthetician and my practice deals with skin.. I haven’t been able to practice as long as some other estheticians but I still consider myself a skincare specialist by trade.

I am a black woman of olive to caramel complexion and rarely faced problems because of my skin color but I have a mother who also struggles with colorism.

In her mind, she just wants to have smooth skin. I look at her skin every other day.. To me her skin is very smooth, velvety.. She uses skin lightening creams to change her skin color to a lighter complexion. Her natural color is of a chocolate brown.

Why is it so important to me to speak of colorism and blackness? I wondered if the insecurities that black people face required them to experience a deeper form of love.

Women who are of a lighter complexion rarely face the same experiences as women of color in the dating scene. They are preferred and less rejected. They have their own issues but at least in personal ads and dating sites they don’t have to worry about changing their ethnicity to white or latino to just speak to someone of quality.

When I say quality, I do not mean that black people are not quality. The algorithms on dating sites tend to choose a particular audience when you put down that your ethnicity is of black descent.

I decided to overall leave the dating scene in order to take care of myself better so that when I go back into the scene, I am a fit choice and not a burden.

However, the last couple times that I went on Facebook dating.. There was this one particular guy who was interested in me every time.

I was looking for a man who was either my complexion or darker than my complexion, but this guy was very fair with light eyes and light hair.

How do I feel about that? It was very important for me to be with someone who was around my age, attractive, interesting, and most notably able to produce black children in the future.

I have dated black guys but the ones that I dated only saw me as a beautiful woman because of skin complexion.

They wanted someone to have beautiful children with but they did not care about the development of my mind and the experiences that I wanted to have in order to obtain and nurture my intelligence. Very important to me.

I took a break from caring so deeply about my outside appearance because I wanted to know what it felt like to be a woman focused on her mind. Looking back, you don’t have to neglect yourself in order to be intelligent.. You can be intelligent and beautiful at the same time.

So when I saw that this guy was interested in me, I looked at his profile and thought.. I don’t know if this guy is for me.. “He is decent..” I would think even though I was decent..

I took a bite of the fruit..

Instantly, his interest was proven because we decided to see each other immediately that week. I saw him maybe a day after the first match.. I was not disappointed.. He was actually way more attractive in person.

I couldn’t help myself but to want more and other things spiritually were going on that led me to believe there was something deeper going on about this situation..

For instance, before him I was having menstrual issues but after I was intimate with him for the first time.. I was able to bleed. I’m calling it “the Introduction to Berry”

We did not keep in touch because he was a busy guy and swore up and down that “I don’t want to be in a relationship.. I just want to experience you..”

I was not hurt by that because my focus was really on building myself up.. I was just lonely and wanted someone to enjoy life with.. but we went back and forth about that situation until I decided to block and discontinue talking to him for a while.

What is berry to you? I think of Tupac’s song Keep Your Head Up which speak of the still occurring troubles women face in black love.

Still today, some black women are battling to be loved and respected by black men.. Welfare, baby daddy and baby mama issues, failure to progress into marriages.. Still today..

After not speaking with that guy, I didn’t have any experiences with anyone else either.. I wasn’t in a good space though I tried. My insecurities around neglecting myself caused me to no longer seek men out or out myself out there.

Other men I dealt with did not treat me at all.. All of a sudden I began to struggle with getting actual dates.. I didn’t go on a date with him either but at least I was enjoying his company. He was a gentleman..

It wasn’t until the month of October 2024 that we reconnected and because of his interest in me again. I was surprised to even see him like me after our argument.. But I was happy to see the message.

“You still remember me?”

“Of course I did..” He said.. “How could I forget my fire..?”

It didn’t take us too long to meet again..

I remember when I asked the Lord to not allow it to be too late for me to cry about something.. This time when we were intimate.. I was just shocked… This guy really told me to take off everything.. I was going to wear my dress..

To cover the stretch marks, the fat, the hair.. Everything.. I know he knows it.. but he told me to take everything off..

He didn’t appreciate it all that day.. but.. I have a feeling that there will come a time that he will because my spirit began to cry and wail..

Usually when you cry the tone is of one tone.. Unless the pain or pleasure is deep..

That day, I heard multiple cries and the tears actually fell down my face.. He didn’t even do his BIG one yet! Most importantly, when I tried to move him away from me.. He stood right in place.

“The long way..?”

“The long way..”

I began to question.. If he could love me like this and I’m only olive.. What was he giving to the other woman that he told me he experienced with the dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes?

The deepest berry..

I believe in love to get the best of you, these men will pick and probe at all your issues..

All I can say is.. Let him make you cry.. Let him fix it like he usually does.. Experience intimacy like you said you wanted.. Dark and brown skin.. You are the deepest berry.

Allow yourself to be.

[cinnamonspicewritingroom]

More Than Diamonds

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Princess! Reader Description:

A hardcore Bridgerton fan, Davika bit the dust in 2021 during a wild protest against Thailand's king on the way home. But instead of the pearly gates, she woke up in the 19th century, suddenly the offspring of Siam's 2nd king and some British lady of mystery descent. Armed with her modern know-how, her main goal is to stack up that cash and upgrade Siam for some chill vibes to avoid being sold off in some arranged marriage mess. But who knew she'd find herself smack in the middle of her beloved Bridgerton drama series? Talk about a plot twist! How's she gonna handle this? Amelia better watch out not to change the story—or is it too late?

Meanwhile, the Brits are buzzing about their new royal guest just in time for the 1813 debutante ball. Princess Amelia of Siam has rolled in as the fresh Ambassador of Siam. With Daphne and Prince Friedrich's courtship hitting the skids, nobody expected him to stick around London, but Friedrich's not one to skedaddle with his tail between his legs. Homeboy's on a mission to snag a wifey and he's not backing down. Friedrich's never been one to back down, but when it comes to Amelia, he's all cold feet. Folks say Amelia's a brainiac, but love? That's a whole different ball game. Those butterflies in her stomach? Yeah, she ain’t got a clue what to do with 'em.

Tags: Slow burn, Coming of age, Time-Travel, Back to the past, Friends to Lovers, Royalties, Oblivious!FLxObvious!ML, Jealous! Friedrich, Slightly Possessive! Friedrich, Black cat gf, Golden retriever bf Timeline: S1&S2

Chapter 2. Princes and a Princess

Calm down, Davika—No, Apsara. Davika is dead; now she is Somdet Chao Fa Apsara Chaiya Kanika, and she fought for her title. Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth. You learned this in your overpriced yoga class before you bit the dust and got transported into the middle of the fucking Bridgerton series. 

Focus on the present—right now she is having tea with Golda Rosheuvel—Queen Charlotte, the lineup of princes who are yet to marry, and the current Prince Regent, Prince George IV.

“Lady Amelia, I heard that you are a driving force in the Siamese court,” Prince George IV looked at the Siamese Ambassador. He did not know what he expected, but not a petite-looking teenager; she is not even a woman yet. To believe that she has been advising the Crown Prince and King in the Siamese court was truthfully hard.

“Surely you jest, your highness. I am not much of a driving force as you implied. My achievements are minuscule compared to the King and Crown Prince. I merely stated my opinions on several topics. They are generous enough to listen to my chatter,” Amelia politely responded.

“Starting very young, at the age of 13 years old, I heard you had helped the Crown Prince, Prince Rama III, to establish education for girls by creating a law in which every citizen, man or woman alike, had the fundamental rights to education.” Several of the princes chatted with one another; one of them stated how women's education is useless and how their position is to stay at home with the children. Girl—wait till you hear about the 21st century; women can vote and work.

“And pray tell, why did you think education for women is useless, Prince Frederick?” This put the spotlight on Prince Frederick, who was talking to Prince Augustus. The Queen eyed him sharply; Frederick knew he had to thread this carefully, especially since he was in the presence of the Ambassador of Siam; they could potentially pull all rights for trading and business in their land. They cannot afford that right now, not while they are still at war with Napoleon.

“I think women are gentle creatures who need to be loved. Rather than dealing with harsh politics and boring numbers, they should be surrounded by beautiful things. Music, poetry, paintings. Do you not agree, Lady Amelia?” He looked so proud of his words; Amelia wanted to gag at his face, but instead she chuckled and slightly shook her head.

“May I ask you a question?” Still glowing in pride, he only answered with a gesture, which probably meant ‘go ahead.’ “When you were still a child, which parent did you see more? Your father or your mother?” Several of the princes glanced at their mother, including Prince Frederick. The Queen gestured to him to answer Amelia’s question.

“As my father was busy with work, naturally I saw my mother more than him.” Amelia nodded. “And which parent oversees your education? The one who consulted with the governor, asked you about your progress?” Prince Frederick paused before answering, “My mother, of course. Is it not natural that children will spend more time with their mother? After all, fathers are usually busy and away often.” Amelia smiled subtly.

“Absolutely, mothers are the ones who spend more time with their children compared to their father—” “And as they are at home, why would women burden themselves with education? They should focus on raising the children and make sure they are raised properly.” Amelia stared at the prince for several seconds before she picked up her tea to take a sip.

“Queen Charlotte,” Amelia changed her tactics and turned towards the Queen, who was staring at her with interest. “I heard you were originally from Germany?” The Queen blinked and frowned a bit; she was a bit disappointed that the Siamese Ambassador backed down from the debate against her son. Maybe she is not as brilliant as rumoured.

“Why, yes, I came from the Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, located in Northern Germany. You should come visit; it is a very beautiful place.” Smiling, The Queen had a look of longing and pride for her country. Amelia nodded. “I will inform the King; maybe he will consider visiting Northern Germany for his annual honeymoon destination.” The Queen nodded with a smile and proceeded to pick up her tea. She was quite pleased with that answer. 

“Your Majesty, I am quite curious about the subject of education for European noblewomen. If education is limited to males, what subjects are allowed for noblewomen to learn?” So Lady Amelia did not back down; the Queen smiled behind her cup.

“Noblewomen are taught how to read and write; they learn about cultures, music, art, and literature. However, as the Queen of England, I need to understand the history of the country and calculations.” How will the Ambassador answer her son after she gives her ammunition?

“If you don’t mind me asking, how does your education experience help you manoeuvre your children’s education? Such as, have you ever consulted subjects you deemed more necessary for the princesses and princes with their governor and governess?” Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia eyed Prince Frederick. He was still looking as smug as ever with his lukewarm answer.

“Lady Amelia, my children are the future of the country. My job is to make sure they receive the best education possible, so of course I would need to consult with the governor. God knows how many times I consulted them, and even more often for me to help them learn and understand what they were learning about.” The whole time Amelia was looking at Prince Frederick. “And you raised them beautifully, Your Majesty. They could not be like this without you.” Amelia sweetly smiled at the Queen before fully turning around to face Prince Frederick.

“You see, Prince Frederick. We have established that mothers spend more time with their children, more than their father. Mothers are the ones who oversee their children’s education, but more than that, they are also their first educators.” She needed that. The pettiness to emphasise that word.

“If the mother has no solid education, then it is easy for the children’s education to go astray. It was fortunate that you were born royal with a mother who had received proper education in her early years. Your mother was able not only to consult with the governor and governess but also helped with your learning process. Unfortunately, not everyone is lucky enough.” Amelia knows she has won the argument with these facts; she just… wanted him to burn a bit more.

“Prince George.” The said Prince perked up. “From what I remembered during the introduction, you are the Prince Regent, correct?” “Yes, you are right.” He confirmed as Amelia gave him a strained smile.

“I must confess, I am never one to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. I don’t know how you run your country, but I know the Siam I envision it to be.” Amelia sighed, her thumb tracing the edge of the saucer.

“We want to establish peace in the country, and we want equality for everyone. That is impossible without having the citizens educated. Women included because women count.” Her light brown eyes met Prince George’s dark ones. He can see it now; this is Lady Amelia, who rose in the Siamese court in a mere three years before starting her role as an Ambassador.

“Because women are a part of our people. The law is not only to give them a chance to do what they want but also to protect the women from getting blamed for their children’s education.” Amelia may sound cocky about this matter. She was aware that this could potentially insult the Queen and the Princes, but since they laid the stage themselves, might as well show them why Siam is not a country to be messed with, why they are a progressive country.

“We need to educate the children and citizens; therefore, they have the ability to process and filter liable information in order to create a strong and united Siam. That is my opinion about why it is necessary to establish the law of education.” As she concluded her discussion, Amelia could see the sour faces of the princes.

Queen Charlotte should be angry at the Ambassador for embarrassing her sons, but Lady Amelia was correct. It was an impressive debate; instead of debating Frederick on what-ifs, Lady Amelia used her, his mother, as an example.

“Now that it’s done, come with me, Lady Amelia. I would love to show you my peacock collection.” Queen Charlotte stood up, followed by Amelia as they exited the room. The princes who were left in the room stared at the two retreating figures before the footman closed the doors.

“What a petty woman. She strung mother along in order to win the argument,” Prince Frederick huffed in distaste as he stared at the closed doors.

“Please, Frederick, you are just angry you lost,” Edward chuckled as he picked up a scone. “I think she is interesting,” he continued while spreading jam before taking a bite of the scone.

“She’s far too young for you, Edward. If you try anything, it will cause a strain in our relationship with Siam,” George said as he picked up two sugar cubes, dropping them into his tea.

***

For almost an hour, Queen Charlotte showed Amelia her colourful peacock collection, which is truly fascinating, as Amelia even got the chance to hand-feed one of the birds under the keeper’s watch, despite Queen Charlotte’s hesitation. Queen Charlotte and Amelia discussed many things: their differences in art and cultures, sports played in each country, fashion, even education. The Queen was so fascinated by Amelia’s decree to make it mandatory for girls to also get education that she questioned the education system in Siam. Amelia really likes talking to Queen Charlotte; she is curious and genuinely interested in her opinions and beliefs, which became her drive to make Siam a better country for the people. Yes, the Queen might be a strict person, but she is someone who is.

“Before I leave, can I ask you something, Your Majesty?” Amelia asked as they ventured into the garden. The Queen glanced at the young lady next to her. “Why of course, ask away, my dear.” Amelia braced herself to spit out the question. “Could you please tell me where the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester and Edinburgh live currently?” Out of all the questions the Ambassador could have asked, Charlotte never thought it would be that one. “The— Why?” Compared to debating with one of the princes, the Ambassador looked way more scared asking that question.

“I have a letter I need to deliver. It was a personal request from the King.” Queen Charlotte raised a brow. Her brother-in-law and his wife, Abigail of Gloucester nee. Bridgerton, received a letter from the Siamese Royal family? Amelia caught her expression and quickly explained.

“His Majesty, the King… I heard that he was one of the students of the Siam’s Ambassador to London at the time…” Amelia explained slowly. “Perhaps His Majesty has made some sort of relationship with the Duke of Gloucester and Edinburgh during his time here…” The Queen nodded, acknowledging the possibility.

“Alright, I will make sure the letter will reach the Duke of Gloucester and Edinburgh. Do you have the letter with you?” Amelia's eyes met the Queen in surprise and nodded her head. “I have it with Lynn, my secretary.” Amelia turned towards Lynn and signalled her to come to her.

“Your Majesty, Milady—” Lynn greeted before continuing with her question. “Anything I could possibly help you with?” Amelia nodded. “Do you bring the letter from His Majesty the King to the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester and Edinburgh?” Lynn nodded and reached for the handbag she was carrying and took out a leather pouch embossed with the emblem of the Rattanakosin Kingdom.

Amelia grabbed it, and passed it to Queen Charlotte, but was received by her secretary- Brimsley. “Brimsley, quickly send it to Prince William.” Brimsley silently bowed, and exited the room. 

“Your Majesty, I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity to help me.” Amelia sincerely bowed to the Queen for the help she provided. The Queen merely smiles her way, being sincerely appreciated for her generosity is quite rare these days. The last person who often appreciates her, willing to spend lots of time with her, and someone she genuinely enjoys spending her time with, was her nephew, Princess Felicia of Gloucester, only child and daughter to Prince William Henry and Lady Abigail Bridgerton. Sadly she ran away 23 years ago. The Queen sighed, and focused on the present once more. 

“It is alright, dear. However, if you really want to thank me, maybe you can come visit me for tea sometimes.” Amelia gave her a huge smile and nodded. Queen Charlotte was always one of her favourite characters in the Bridgerton series, and despite being a devoted wife and mother, she has quite a tragic background due to the pressure of being a wife, a Queen and a mother.

“Your Majesty, I must thank you for the tour and the delightful afternoon tea. It was refreshingly different from what we have in Siam.” Amelia paused, wondering if she’s allowed to say this. “Queen Charlotte, I must say that I admire you. Not only as a Queen, but also as a mother who is able to raise not only one, but 15 children. I hope your children share the same sentiments.” Amelia gave her a sincere smile and curtsy before walking out.

Words: 2293 words

Edited: 02/04/2024

More Than Diamond's Master List

IMPORTANT NOTES A/N: Hello, how are you guys? I hope you are well. Regarding this story that is following Julia Quinn's hit series, Bridgerton, I would start by saying I read the book first before I watch the Netflix series, thus I apologize if there are some differences with the Netflix version, but I will try to make it as similar as possible. I would also ask the readers to be kind when criticizing this story as this is my first time to actually publishing my work in the open. For the story, as you can see there is a time-travel tag. Our reader was sent back to the past with all the knowledge from the future. If you are also confused with Davika's education, I actually based her using Spencer Reid, a character from Criminal Minds. I also made Friedrich to be a year younger than Benedict when in actuality, he was born in 1794, 2 years younger than Daphne. If you are not interested or felt like those 2 themes ruined a historical romance story, then please do not leave any bad comments as you can just stop reading this story. Thank You Very Much! Much Love, Cinnamon Meilleure's Writing Room

[bohemian-nights]

You want to self-insert to Netty so badly you want to put a brown teen girl to be groomed and be placed in between an ongoing marital dispute. It's disgusting how you talk about her. You want her to "save" some evil man from evil "dumbnyra" liek your misogyny is so transparent. You sound like every delusional 'i can fix him' stan. You hate this character so much you weaponize another woman for it. If you don't see the racial and social undertones in the way daemon grooms her (e.g. teaching her about hygiene and manners) there is something wrong with you for you to want this pairing. Some of us netty enjoyers like her because she's an underdog claiming a wild dragon. We don't want to see her as a prop to some man's "redemption" like you so want here.

One, you won’t even acknowledge that Netty is Black. Why am I going to take your claims of misogyny seriously when you and yours perpetuate Black erasure and misogynoir?

Two, Nettles is an adult by Westeros standards.

Three, I have stated numerous times I don’t believe someone who could tame a wild dragon didn’t know how to bathe herself(and if you believe she could not bathe herself yet she could claim Sheepstealer that’s a reflection on your perception of a character like Netty. You can drop the I’m a fan of Netty act).

Nettles was a homeless young woman. She didn’t have access to bathing facilities, but she definitely knew how soap and water worked 🙃Daemon more than likely taught her etiquette for court life and he gifted her things that she didn’t have because again she was freaking homeless 🤦🏽‍♀️ He did what he did because he loved her and wanted to make sure that she’d be able to navigate in her new life. Not because he was grooming her.

Daemon isn’t a good person. He’s selfish and he commits some of the most heinous acts during the Dance. However, he isn’t a total monster. He has his moments and Netty is one of them.

If he had actually groomed her and didn’t genuinely love her he would've let Rhaenyra’s orders be carried out(or he would’ve gone back “home”) because she had become an inconvenience.

Four, Netty more than likely will be aged up on the show. So since you won’t be able to say but but 17 isn’t legal in our world, you guys will need to come up with a better excuse not to ship Dettles than “OMG you want her to be groomed.”

Five, do I have to quote myself again🙃 You want to talk about racial undertones yet you won’t acknowledge that the one who abused/tried to abuse Nettles was Rhaenyra. She’s the one who tries to commit a racially motivated hate crime after saying her husband can sleep around(see Mysaria whose white in the books), but just not with Black women and he most certainly can’t fall in love with them. I don’t have to make Rhaenyra into a villain. She is one when it comes to Netty 🤷🏽‍♀️

White women can be just as harmful to Black women as men(Rhaenyra shows that). The sisterhood often doesn't extend to us so miss me with the misogyny crap when there is a white woman calling a Black woman a “low creature” and trying to murder a her(when she’s possibly pregnant) in her sleep all over sleeping with her husband who she has an open relationship with.

So let’s not get it twisted, I’m not weaponizing my fave to attack yours. I’m pointing out the wrongdoings of your fave to mine. Wrongdoings which you ignore because pointing out even a fictional white woman’s racism makes you uncomfortable.

Lastly, I care about Nettles as a whole. I’m constantly talking about her, creating gifs and moodboards for her, and speculating on her casting(which is a whole other fiasco), but you people always zero in on me shipping her with her Daemon (which is canon, but you people want to ignore it cause it makes your self-insert look like she’s not the end all be all).

Nettles story is more than just her relationship with Daemon(and I don’t think she “fixes him,” he comes to realize a lot of stuff himself of what is and isn’t important during the Dance), but he’s very much a part of that story, and as I’ve said before, showing Black women in romantic relationships in media is important.

We don’t need any more strong independent Black women who don’t need a man stereotypes perpetuated. So if you want to ignore that to try and make their relationship abusive(when it isn’t), or make her into a sexless Mammy who only lives to serve Rhaenyra because that’s the position you are comfortable with Black women being in, that’s a you and your inherent biases issue.

You guys refuse to acknowledge the importance of her relationship with Daemon because you don’t and never will identify with or self-insert into Black characters. You’re never forced to see Black character's humanity. You just see them as accessories to your actual self-inserts and since Nettles isn’t a stereotype(she’s objectively one of the more interesting characters in the Dance and she's the girl getting rescued) you want to make her into one.

Don’t get mad at me for recognizing and calling out you people on your crap. Do better.

[luminousvision]

Class

Rebecca was the perfect student. The one time she talked without her hand up, everyone including the teacher was so surprised the entire second-grade class just skipped a beat and pretended it never happened. That was the closest it ever got—Rebecca was the only student to not have her card turned the whole year.

I could not stand this girl. I couldn’t beat her on tests, because she wouldn’t get anything wrong. I had just learned my first English a year before, so I didn’t put up much of a fight on spelling. Both of us got every math question correct, in class or on homework. But I had her on Reading Minutes, where I’d read five hours every weekend to her three. When we tallied our Reading Minutes at the end of the month, I’d make a point of looking at her across the classroom. She’d make a sour face and pretend she didn’t see me. 

I couldn’t behave better than her because she never talked. I was pretty sure I ran faster than she did, but I wasn’t fully sure because she spent recess playing jumprope and hopscotch instead. I didn’t play gross girl games. 

I didn’t get a rematch until fifth grade. But that year, Rebecca didn’t say a single thing she didn’t have to, not to me. She spent all of her time trading whispers with her best friend with long shiny black hair and a cute nose. Once, when I managed an excuse to talk to her, the girl offered the unsolicited aside that Rebecca said I rambled a lot. I nodded blankly and went straight to the dictionary. The two girls watched me and giggled.

The next year, we ran a class play, a coming-of-age story about high school homecoming, set in the 60s so even the parents had to be explained the references. Rebecca auditioned for the part of an infatuated teenage boy who spent most of his stage time chasing a girl. And it turned out, Rebecca was basically ready for Broadway. I’d seen enough class plays to know. How the hell does a sixth grader know anything about love, let alone love from the perspective of the other side? This bookish, quiet, nerdy girl wasn’t squeamish about any of it, not about romance, kissing, or playing a boy’s part. On performance night, she got the one standing ovation.

Soon it was June and our year-long assignment to read a million words came due. Rebecca and I led the class by a mile. I read four million. Rebecca read seven. Whatever. I didn’t always beat her. I kept looking over at her desk, expecting her eyes to meet mine, even for a second, just to shake hands after the game. But she never looked at me. With her brilliant green eyes and soft, pink cheeks, I was getting the feeling I’d never catch her anyway.

It was hard to believe she was normal. She had friends, tangled with everyone else in gym, and ate the same shitty cafeteria food. So even when I got the only perfect score on the algebra final, I couldn’t smile. What did it matter to beat her by three points? Rebecca turned in pristine work, knew the answer to every question, didn’t blush when our science teacher gave us the baby talk, handled her four letter words, held her own in every blacktop sport, and kept her wavy brown hair neatly brushed. The rest of us picked our noses and slung mom jokes at each other.

Every Monday in P.E., we’d run a mile, a big lap around the school. I always ran my heart out. Still, every Monday, the same two kids would grow smaller and smaller until they’d disappear around the baseball diamond. They were already laughing in the locker rooms by the time I got to the finish line.

One fall day after school, Rebecca and I were sitting on opposite sides of a long metal bench out front waiting for our parents to pick us up. Everyone else had already gone home and we could hear only the wind scrape dry leaves across the concrete. I pointed at the announcement board on the yellowing grass in front of us. They’re running another school dance. Do you go to them, I asked. No, she said, she hadn’t thought about them much. We left a long pause. Well, it’s next week, I said. Want to try it? Rebecca started but froze mid-way, her mouth slightly ajar. She stared at me, eyebrows furrowed, until her mother called through an open car window. The girl took her backpack and left without a word.

That year, Rebecca was diagnosed with scoliosis, or had stomach issues, or otherwise couldn’t come to class. I saw her after school every now and then, exchanging giant stacks of papers with each teacher. Her desk in every class remained empty. Then we stopped seeing her. They said she was being home schooled. Good riddance.

My friends in high school had heavy glasses, thick accents, or some shocking prudishness. If they could sing, they couldn’t take a derivative. If they could take a derivative, they couldn’t shoot hoops on the basketball court. If they could shoot hoops, they weren’t pretty. And if they were pretty, they couldn’t do anything at all besides check their phones and giggle in packs down the hallway.

I started imagining things, unrealistic things, like girls with self-confidence. Every spark was a glimmer of genius until disproven by a stray comment a week later. Surely, somewhere around here, someone not being home-schooled would beat me up, head over heels. Okay, in college, there were a few who tickled my imagination. They never said anything they hadn’t thought about for a long time. They made me think.

They made me think for a long time on a grassy field in the middle of campus, surrounded by dozens of kids with superior grades, some reading books and others throwing frisbees. My eye caught on one perfect, puffy cloud with ripples that reminded me of someone’s hair I could not forget. And in that instant, I found myself right back at the beginning, playing the memories through one more time.

[darsiared]

OBSESSION

CHAPTER 1 : WHERE ENDS MEET

╔══════ ≪≫°✺°≪ ≫ ══════╗

"Adulthood is my favorite child's game to play."

╚══════ ≪≫°✺°≪ ≫ ══════╝

┌────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┐

Appearance of oc: - Black haired - Height 5'6 - Age around 20 - Purple eyes - Skinny - Wheat colour skin - Simple jeans and hoodie, doesn't like to dress up and stand out - Trimmed nails - Slouched posture

└────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┘

∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦

After exorcising the 20th special grade curse of the day, Gojo Satoru finally decided to call it a day and go back home.

Now all he wanted to do was to eat some sweet rice buns and get a good night's sleep.

But of course that wouldn't be possible, he thought, while passing through an empty street. Once he returned to the office he would have to report every curse encounter and their abilities in detail. He could sense an all nighter shift coming.

Now all he had to do was think of a way to force Ichiji to write his reports for him.

The curses in the city were drastically increasing in number and strength. With more and more of them becoming capable of using complex Jujutsu, times were going to get even more difficult for the ones who had sworn to protect.

But those special grades really had some nerve believing they could just single handedly defeat him like it's no big deal. Those imbeciles really didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word Strongest.

Same goes for the brat who had been following him for the last 20 minutes.

His stalker's cursed energy was weaker than a beginner's, but they definitely knew how to hide their presence way too well. Gojo himself only noticed them a little while ago, while fighting the cursed spirit, when his senses were boosted. Who knows how long they had been following him before that.

That made Gojo a little curious about the powers of this person as nothing could usually escape his six eyes thus he decided to finally face his guest and be over with them.

"Come on out, I know you're there." he said out loud, turning around.

The person surprisingly obliged immediately, as if they were waiting to be called out and started walking towards him.

As they got nearer, Gojo could tell that this person was a girl, and that she really was an amateur, as she was completely unguarded and had a tonne of openings. Well, at least that meant she was not an attacker.

Or she could be pretending to be an amateur to make him lower his gaurd and be looking for an opportunity to strike when he was distracted.

But it was not something that Gojo Satoru needed to worry about.

She reached near him and stopped a couple of steps away, her hands in her pockets, and her purple eyes gazing at him rather expectantly.

"Are you Gojo Satoru?" she asked, in a voice more steady than he had expected.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

She seemed pretty decent and harmless on first look, but years of fighting experience told Gojo to stay wary. She just gave off this air that even he felt uncomfortable being near. Something about her was definitely off.

"You dropped this" she said, taking something out of her pocket, which Gojo then realised was his wallet.

"Huh? Oh! Ah.....Yeah, Thanks." he said.

He was baffled for a second. That was the last thing he had expected to hear. She was obviously upto something. She wasn't even trying to hide it.

He opened his wallet and found that it had been completely emptied except for his teacher ID card from school.

"How did you know my name?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Your ID card was in the wallet."

"So you opened the wallet?" he asked.

"Yeah"

"And you stole from it?"

"Yeah."

"Did I drop the wallet or did you steal it?"

"I stole it."

Wow.

"So, why show up now? Wouldn't it be better to just run away and keep the money. Or did you suddenly develop a conscience?" Gojo asked, slowly beginning to enjoy this conversation.

The girl once again took something out of her pockets, which this time was Gojo's credit cards and cash. She extended her hand, offering his possessions back to him.

But Gojo couldn't care less about the money anymore, as what she had in her other hand was again, the last thing he had expected to be present in the city of Tokyo at a time like this and in the hands of someone who he now realised wasn't that much of an amateur after all.

An extremely rare and powerful cursed tool that Gojo himself had been fruitlessly looking for, for years now.

"I think now I have your attention." the girl said smiling for the first time.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ════════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

[aureatemedusa]

Rainy Day Mutuals // @drcxmlcss

When the chair squealed its protest, and that blonde leaned back to acknowledge her for the first time, Quackity's eyes scanned familiar features. Scrutinizing in her curiosity, it was almost as if Alex was trying to pick apart every freckle and imperfection on blondie's face. Where had she seen him before? Even if her smile didn't drop, Quackity still seemed downright distraught by the connection being severed. Sharp green shuttered by locks of barley matched her intensity, smile just as friendly and alluring as her own. If the appearance wasn't enough, Alex was sure that daring tone would ring bells — out-of-tune bells that got her nowhere, but at least she knew this man from somewhere on the tip of her tongue.

"Damn right, I did," she held herself higher, easily making her way to stand beside the other's chair. Blue light illuminated blondie's profile, and Quackity was sure that her skin was reflecting just as much. Mischief and trickery floated around them, joining the heavy weight of lousy weather to create a concoction of playful teasing to come. When blondie had turned once more to the screen, Alex's curiosity got the best of her. She hummed a short nasally noise, unamused — or perhaps just disinterested — with the lines of code and computer jargon that she couldn't deduce a single line's meaning. "Oh, that thing? Yeah, I've heard of it. They that much of a problem that people are trying to hunt their IP like the fuckin' FBI, huh."

Alex leaned forward, her palm resting beside the keyboard so she could press closer to the screen (if she were closer, surely she'd understand it better). Her other arm rested unabashedly against her hip, nose scrunching up with her thoughts. Close enough that she could feel blondie's body heat, yet just shy of touching; she had little to no regard for personal space, it seemed — that or she was using it as an excuse to get a closer look at the other while expressing at least some interest in this dumb gossip blog. What did it have that girls' locker rooms didn't have, anyways? Was it because it was widespread? Honestly, whoever started it was a pussy for not wanting to do the dirty work with the risks — maybe she was just spiteful that it had become so popular. Not like Alex needed to check it; nothing on there could be worse than the shit she's thrown from time to time.

Feeling blondie's eyes on her cheek, Quackity tilted her head back, now plenty close to pick out even the few crooked lashes near the corners of blondie's eyes. Her grin was wolfish, sarcasm clashing against pearly whites faster than she could hold it back, "Oh, you know, looking for hot guys to pick up and a dealer or two. The usual."

Standing up, Quackity waved her hand dismissively, chuckling with hearty good nature despite no real joke being said outside her own, "Nah, but I was hanging around trying to find a friend of mine, but my fucking luck xyr off sleeping away xyr life 'cuz of some water. This is kinda xyr spot, so I was shooting my shot and missed miserably." Her hand paused at her chest and then waved towards blondie's hoodie, "That, hermano, is where you come in—saving me from boredom! If Techno is gonna leave me bored and alone, I'll make my own friends."

Alexandria cocked her head to the side, black hair pooling over her shoulders, and just as quickly as she appeared, the dots seemed to connect. Another impulsive comment fell off her tongue in abrasive waves — Quackity controlled a room when she wanted to, demanding answers despite not being aggressive in the slightest. "Hey... are you Dream by any chance? No, hermano, I know that face; you're so fucking Dream. I've seen your streams; I knew those pixelated eyes anywhere, man!" She snapped her fingers, cheeks burning from the prideful grin that came with believing herself right, "Dream for all ages trying to dox someone? Yeouch. How scandalous."

Rainy Day Mutuals // thread with @aureatemedusa

Two hours ago, Dream entered the library, hair drenched by rainwater. With a friendly wave, he greeted the librarian. And from there, carefully worded small talk turned into stories. They revealed Dream was in desperate need of a computer. The power went off at home — obviously the storm’s fault. Essays were due the next morning, too; three of them, in fact. But at this rate, he’d suffer a blow to his grade. 

Sweetly, the librarian offered him the computer lab. They’re not supposed to let students in today, not until the storm is over. But at the same time… it’d be a shame for Dream to lose points over this. It’s not like the power going out was his fault. With thankful delight, Dream followed after them, pleased when they unlocked the door. How thoughtful. 

One hour ago, the librarian forgot he was there. Dream took that as a sign to stop pretending essays were his priority. Eyes narrowed at the screen, scanning rows upon rows of seemingly unintelligible jargon. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t get involved. The Uncovered blog was just spewing nonsense; none of it was grounded in reality. Weeks of attacks against his friends, however, pushed him toward the edge. The final straw was that post about Techno. 

Dream was going to find this asshole no matter what.

Thirty minutes ago, he realized he was getting nowhere. Layers upon layers of routing formed a maze even he couldn’t navigate. Whoever they were, they were either good… or they had help. The latter of which left a sour taste in his mouth. He wrinkled his nose, disgusted by the notion. Who would work with this stupid blog? They spread nothing but hate. Unnecessary hate at that.

What motive did they have, anyway? Their posts claimed concepts Dream doubted they believed. There had to be more to it. Frustrated, he slumped in his chair, leaning back and forth as arms folded across his chest. This wasn’t working. Think, he urged himself, but the solution remained hidden. 

Ten seconds ago, someone entered the computer lab. A voice Dream couldn’t place reached him and he looked over his shoulder, meeting the gaze of a fellow student. A student he hadn’t seen before. Choppy dark hair. Brown eyes, with one paler than the other. Attractive features. Stylish clothes. 

No, Dream would’ve remembered if he met her before. Anyone would’ve. She exuded a confidence he didn’t feel from many people. One that intrigued him. Contagious. Enthralling. 

So now, he smiles. Lets his head fall to the side, too; meeting charisma with charisma. This is more energy than he expected to find today, but he doesn’t mind. If anything, it’s a nice change of pace from the quiet politeness of a librarian. That had quickly gotten on his nerves.

“Yup, you caught me,” he admits boldly — daringly. Temerity shines in his eyes, mischievous. For a moment, he considers leaving it at that. He realizes, then, it’s not necessary to keep quiet. If he can spread information about his attempts around campus… Maybe he’ll frighten the writer into hiding. That’d be nice. “You know that blog everyone’s been gossiping about? I’m trying to track the author’s IP address.”

Glancing back to the screen, he inspects his handiwork. “More out of curiosity than anything. It’s been a fun challenge.” Lies. He’s doing this for his friends’ sake, not because he’s looking for entertainment. It’s partly out of protectiveness, partly out of bitterness. A strange mixture, but one he isn’t unfamiliar with. 

After a moment’s thought, he returns his focus to the stranger beside him. “What about you?” he asks, genuinely intrigued. “You’re the first person I’ve seen over here aside from staff. Up to anything?”

[lemmetreatya]

Eren’s Insta Spam (pt. 2)

eren x black!fem reader

pt. 1

pt. 3

Back again with these since I’m not making imagines until my uni work is somewhat up to a good standard *chu chu*

OKAy!! so as we know Eren is cautious of putting you on his main/public spam but he genuinely really wants to post more of you so he has a private insta where it’s mostly just his irl friends and family who can follow it

He’s on this account waaaay more but its actually amusing because most of his family dont know that he’s a public figure/internet famous. Not because he’s scared to tell them but simply because they’d just embarrass the hell out of him sudidxkdk so erens tricked them into thinking that his priv spam is his main. the only consequence to that is that they always urge him to treat it like Facebook TM

“Habibti, post that baba picture I sent you the other day on instagram.” Carla directs towards Eren but says as she scrolls on her phone.

“Oh my gosh, Eren’s baby photos?! Let me see!” Hearing part of the conversation, Dina comes from around the table to look over Carla’s shoulder, eager to see her step-son’s adolescent stage.

Rolling his eyes, Eren only slugs his feet towards the fridge to get himself something for the two of you to eat. Don't get him wrong, he was happy his mother and step-mother got along but together they were an insufferable pair.

“Amma, why would I show everyone my baby pictures? That’s too embarrassing. In every picture my hair always looks dodgy. If I didn’t know it was me in them, I’d think the child was neglected.” He joked.

With an expression of shock, Carla looked over at her son.

“What you mean you looked neglected? Your hair always looked right! I always made sure to have it cut and nice on the sides. Not like how you and your Abba have it now, all long and untidy.”

“My hair isn’t untidy.” He’d mumble. Not because he was ashamed in his hair but because he knew saying anything louder would count as backtalk and therefore get him in trouble.

“Hey, darling! Come!” Upon seeing you enter the kitchen, Carla beckoned for you to come to her. Unsuspecting of what conspired before you came in, you glanced in Eren’s direction before walking in to his mother instead.

“Hey Mama.” You’d say as you stood next to her.

Seeing the cheeky expression on her face and the quick look she made in Eren’s direction, you knew she was up to no good.

“Look, look.” She’d say in a hushed tone, gleefully turning her phone in your direction. “This when Eren was a baby.”

In her hand was a picture of a child who sat in the bath tub, face displaying childish tantrum. Clearly the child had a disdain for the bath time activity but what made the picture all the more memorable was the plethora of bubble suds that mounted on top of his head.

“No way. That’s Eren?” You laughed behind your hand.

Unaware of what was going on behind him but hearing his name in conversation, the brunette turned around to witness the commotion.

“What the— Amma, No!”

Even though its mostly embarrassing, Eren genuinely likes when you interact with his family. They were so receptive of you from the first time they met you. To a certain extent he even believes they like you a lot better than him 😭😭 They make this especially clear in his comments section

Liked by carlaakarjaeg_34, mikamikamii and 56 others

ej__jaeger can a guy ever get any sleep around here??? @ynprivnotpriv

View all 19 comments

carlaakarjaeg_34 She Can Never Do Wrong!! Eren Make Sure You Be Nice xxxxx

lordhokagetheninth I. find this very amusing because….. i was never allowed to look at girls let alone havr them in my room at ur age. i walked so u could run.

ej__jaeger @lordhokagetheninth zeke can u stop changing ur @ i barely ever recognise u i was about to sb,, + ratio

ej__jaeger @carlaakarjaeg__34 always amma ❤️

Liked by carlaakarjaeg_34, dinafritz_off_fitfh and 74 others

ej__jaeger to my beloved. @ynprivnotpriv

on your special day id like to say thank you for being the most incredible thing to ever happen to me. without you there’d be no improved me. you always push me to higher capabilities but simply because you care and not because you have to. your capacity to love and to be uniquely you will never cease to amaze me. never change, not even for me. ill keep this short because i’ve literally written u 5 different paragraphs elsewhere but know that i appreciate you, way more than u imagine.

every time i will always choose you.

happy birthday baba.

urs always. ej x

View all 42 comments

dinafritz_off_fifth Happy Birthday @ynprivnotpriv!! Hope your day is full of love, joy and all things lovely Just Like You!! 💖

annie_leonhart12 Happy Birthday X @ynprivnotpriv

yummir Eren you beyyer sling it on her today and i mean it. she deserves to be d1ck3d down 👽👽

ynprivnotpriv Thank you for all the kind wishes everyone 🥺🥺 I love you all @carlaakarjaeg_34 @arminarletarmin @lordhokagetheninth @dinafritz_off_fitfh @annie_leonhart12 @mikamikamii @grishaj__ @conniethe_conman @sashabear7891 @reiner_braunofficial @jeankirjr @berth_hoovr

ej__jaeger @yummir HELLO??????

————————————

Tags: @quiveringdeer because once again thank you for that reiner camera roll one and bc imma just tag you into these from now on

[poppystain]

𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐘'𝐒 — 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 )  /  feel  free  to  change  pronouns  as  you  see  fit  !

THE TRADITION

❛ she's easy on the eyes. ❜

❛ her soul is black and it's a fact. ❜

❛ so take what you want, take what you can, take what you please. ❜

❛ ask for forgiveness, never permission. ❜

❛ It's in the blood and this is tradition. ❜

❛ they dress her up in golden crowns, her smile hides a lie. ❜

❛ you can take it back it's good as gone. ❜

❛ this is your soul, i hope what's left will last all summer long. ❜

❛ they said that boys were boys but they were wrong. ❜

BELLS IN SANTE FE

❛ don't call me by my name, all of this is temporary. ❜

❛ watch as i step away, for your sake. ❜

❛ maybe i can hold you in the dark. ❜

❛ leaving through the door without a word. you won't even notice, little bird. ❜

❛ better off dead, so i reckon i'm heading to hell instead. ❜

❛ don't wait for me, it's not a happy ending. ❜

❛ to sort out all his bullshit, to figurе out the treason ❜

❛ jesus, you've got better lips than judas. ❜

❛ i could give you bad one, otherwise i'm useless. ❜

❛ 'cause who the fuck would choose this? ❜

EASIER THAN LYING 

❛ i'm only whatever you make me. ❜

❛ you make me more and more a villain every day. ❜

❛ you don’t know you reap, you sow. ❜

❛ whatever you give to me from yourself you take. ❜

❛ well if you're a hater then hate the creator, it's in your image i’m made. ❜

❛ 'cause i'll hang myself if you'd give me rope. ❜

❛ i got so much faith and lost all hope. ❜

❛ one eye broken and one eye bruised, ‘cause I gave myself away for you. ❜

❛ you liar, you don't love me too. ❜

❛ my heart is massive but it's empty. ❜

❛ gasping for some real attention, some undivided hypertension. ❜

❛ losing you is easier than lying to myself. ❜

LILITH

❛ i'm perfection when it comes to first impressions. ❜

❛ you got me thinkin' that i was too mean. ❜

❛ everything that I say I believe. ❜

❛ tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve. ❜

❛ i am disruptive, i've been corrupted. ❜

❛ by now I don't need a fuckin' introduction. ❜

❛ you know I get too caught up in the moment. ❜

❛ i can't call it love if i show it. ❜

❛ i just fuck things up if you notice. ❜

❛ have you noticed? tell me, have you noticed? ❜

❛ now i'm wondering if i ever wanted to hold you. ❜

❛ you'd let anybody with a body control you, and you know it too. ❜

❛ the more that you have, the more that they'll take. ❜

GIRL IS A GUN

❛ i'm not your daydream, i won't have your baby. ❜

❛ it's a shot in the dark, i'm not a walk in the park. ❜

❛ this girl is a gun, and we been havin' some fun. ❜

❛ i can show you if you turn the lights on. ❜

❛ i keep waitin' for love to come and swallow me up. ❜

❛ I feel better when the boys stop callin'. ❜

❛ this girl is a gun, before you know it, it's done. ❜

❛ god is a gun, he can have what he wants. ❜

❛ let me show you how to touch my trigger. ❜

❛ makin' me crazy from mornin' to evenin'. ❜

❛ i can't not take it, i love it, i break it. ❜

❛ it's never enough, so I'm givin' you up. ❜

YOU ASKED FOR THIS

❛ i don't know what you want from me. ❜

❛ now what the fuck does all this mean? ❜

❛ my tears are falling flawlessly now. ❜

❛ go on and be a big girl, you asked for this now. ❜

❛ who the hell is in your bed? ❜

❛ you gotta kiss goodnight and give some head. ❜

❛ i want my cake on a silver plater, i want a fistful in my hands. ❜

❛ i want a beautiful boy's despondent laughter. ❜

❛ i wanna ruin all my plans. ❜

❛ i want a fist around my throat. ❜

❛ i wanna cry so hard, i choke. ❜

❛ i want everything i ask for. ❜

DARLING

❛ really can't remember where i left my spine. ❜

❛ maybe I'll be better if I take my meds. ❜

❛ darling don't you weep, there's a place for me. ❜

❛ somewhere we can sleep, see you in your dreams. ❜

❛ ever since i was a little girl i found this sweet. ❜

❛ all the little flowers give me something to believe in. ❜

❛ never knew the feeling of a stable home, been a couple years of living on the road. ❜

❛ only you have showed me how to love me in a life. ❜

❛ until it's time to see the light, i'll make my own with you each night. ❜

❛ i'll kidnap all the stars and i will keep them in your eyes. ❜

1121

❛ i won't die for love, but i've got a body here to bury. ❜

❛ the parts of myself that i've hated... i can't tell which ones are mine and which I created. ❜

❛ you could have my heart and i would break it for you. ❜

❛ i try to be careful with the thing inside my chest. ❜

❛ so you can forget me , i'll leave if you let me. ❜

❛ please don't leave, don't leave me in the shape you left me. ❜

❛ just leave me in the place you found me safe and soundly. ❜

HONEY

❛ she's on the tip of my tongue, she's on the top of my thighs. ❜

❛ open your mouth, i got a surprise. ❜

❛ all i can taste is the blood in my mouth and the bitterness in goodbye. ❜

❛ drippin' like honеy, down the back of my throat and on the front of my mind. ❜

❛ she stings like she means it, she's mean and she's mine. ❜

❛ i love every second, it's fuckin' fantastic ❜

❛ she's hell in a basket just makin' a racket. ❜

❛ good things aren't easy to get, i know that i won't regret you. ❜

❛ between my fingers, she leaves then she lingers. ❜

WHISPERS

❛ you sabotage the things you love the most. ❜

❛ this is the voice in your head that says, "you do not want this". ❜

❛ this is the ache that says, "you do not want him". ❜

❛ bet I could fuck him. ❜

❛ why do you need love so badly? ❜

❛ i've got a monster inside me. ❜

❛ isn't it lonely? ❜

❛ think that you know me? you think that you could if you hold me? ❜

❛ think you could try to console me, but i do not know me. ❜

I AM NOT A WOMAN, I’M A GOD

❛ i am not a woman, i'm a god. ❜

❛ i am not a martyr, i'm a problem. ❜

❛ i am not a legend, i'm a fraud. ❜

❛ keep your heart, 'cause i already got one. ❜

❛ every day i've got a smile where my frown goes. ❜

❛ maybe i could be a different human in a new place. ❜

❛ i just wanna feel something, tell me where to go. ❜

❛ i stay right herе 'cause i'm better all alonе. ❜

❛ i never listen but i see you with my eyes closed. ❜

❛ it really does hurt when you love someone. ❜

THE LIGHTHOUSE

❛ from a tender age i was closed with rage. ❜

❛ i went swimming with the devil at the bottom of a lake. ❜

❛ he was tall and mean with venom eyes so green. ❜

❛ i'll allure you like a landslide and I'll show you lovely things. ❜

❛ he kissed me on the mouth and dug his fingers in my thighs. ❜

❛ a sailor ain't a savior 'cause they only tell you lies. ❜

❛ he's laying in the water, begging god to let him down. ❜

❛ i showed him all my teeth and then i laughed out loud. ❜

❛ i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found. ❜

❛ that should teach a man to mess with me. ❜

❛ i'm glad i met the devil 'cause he showed me i was weak, and a little piece of him is a little piece of me. ❜

YA’ABURNEE 

❛ i can't decide if i love you more at morning or i love you more at night. ❜

❛ the moon don't pick sides and the sun won't resign until you're by my side. ❜

❛ your beauty is a blessing. ❜

❛ i never got to tell you how i lovеd the way my eyes makе yours look green. ❜

❛ i think we could live forever in each others faces. ❜

❛ if we don't live forever maybe one day we'll trade places. ❜

❛ darling, you will bury me before i bury you. ❜

❛ i'll never know if there's danger in confession. ❜

❛ it's memory that presses like a blade against my throat. ❜

❛ or to die without revealing that you got inside my head. ❜

❛ love is just a currency so take my pockets, and take me home. ❜

❛ take my life, and take my soul, wrap me in a wedding ring. ❜