#the organization fairy is taking over my body
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sceletaflores · 5 months ago
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— MARVEL M.LIST
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all works are 18+ MDNI!
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LOGAN HOWLETT
— SERIES
to the bone universe
|| a love story told through red splatter marks.
— ONE SHOTS
↬ HEAVY METAL LOVER!
|| the wolverine is a regular at your bar…
↬ all’s fair in love and viscera…
|| logan wants to spar…
↬ come on and show me a little bit of spine!
|| five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…
↬ woo, my baby’s got me all mixed up! feat. wade wilson
|| wade gets to whiskin’ (and logan's there too)…
↬ couldn't help it, i had to kiss the teacher!
|| professor logan has a special way of helping you retain information...
↬ slippin' and slidin' all over you!
|| logan forgot to fix the ac...
↬ it's the easiest thing (just love me and eat me)
|| it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…
↬ ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!
|| you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...
↬ soft and serene (let me feel you on my lips)
|| logan's not a virgin by any means, but he's still wearing white...
↬ I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)
|| it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...
↬ he's a good time, cowboy casanova!
|| a cowboy and the governor's daughter walk into a barn...
↬ come on into my bed with me (i know you want to)
|| you can't sleep, logan leaves his door open...
↬ SINK IN ME WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!
|| you notice a strange shift in logan…
— DRABBLES
wall sex w. logan
cockwarming w. logan
getting off w. logan's flannel
WADE WILSON
— ONE SHOTS
↬ woo, my baby’s got me all mixed up! feat. logan howlett
|| wade gets to whiskin’ (and logan's there too)…
STEVE ROGERS
coming soon…
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© sceletaflores 2024 - all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost, or translate any of my original work. none of my work is permitted to be reposted on any other platform.
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fawnhart · 21 days ago
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bambi taking over drew’s apartment ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭
You walk into Drew’s apartment, and something’s different. It’s warmer, more...you. The white walls that once felt so sterile now feel like they’re holding something—like they’re waiting to tell a story.
Drew’s standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his eyes flicking over to you with that smile you can never quite resist. You glance around, taking it all in.
“I see you’ve been busy,” you say, a grin tugging at your glossy lips as your eyes land on the new shoe shelf. Your shoes are neatly arranged in cubbies. High heels, white Mary janes, those sparkly flats you can never find in your own closet at home. “when did you do this?”
He shrugs, trying to act casual, but you catch the way his eyes light up when he watches you react. “I figured you needed space for your stuff. You know... the stuff that’s been taking over my man cave.”
You laugh, turning your attention to the vanity in the corner of the room. “You really went all out.”
“I told you I’d build you one,” he says, crossing his arms, clearly proud of himself. “Had to make sure it was big enough for all that makeup you insist on carrying around”
You roll your eyes playfully, walking over to the vanity. It’s exactly what you wanted—romantic, wooden, with a row of little fairy lights around the mirror. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection, and for a second, it feels like you’re in your own little world in his home. “It’s perfect, baby,” you say softly, fingers tracing the edge of the mirror. “Thank you.”
He walks over, standing behind you and looking at the vanity too. “It’s nothing. You’ve got a lot of stuff to keep around, might as well put it somewhere”
“No more shoving my shoes into the closet?” You gave him a fake pout
He smirks. “Yeah, pretty much. You know I’m terrible at organizing.” He says rolling his eyes
“That you are” you tease, but it’s clear there’s no real tension between you. It’s light. Comfortable. You look over at his side of the closet now, which has been slowly claimed by your clothes, a section devoted to mini skirts, low waisted jeans, and designer tops you begged him to buy you last summer. You grin, pleased with your progress.
“You’ve basically moved in, Bambi” he says grabbing your hips
You laugh and grab a mini skirt from the closet, holding it up to your body and changing into it. “you’re not complaining.” You turn back to him, feeling the soft buzz in your chest.
He watches you with a small, amused smile. “I can’t even remember what the apartment looked like before you started leaving your stuff everywhere.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you tease, but you can’t help feeling a little proud. “But, seriously, do you like it?”
Drew looks around, running a hand through his messy hair. The walls are covered in posters now—your movie posters, photos of the two of you, a framed quote you found on some random blog that you liked . It’s chaotic in the best way. “Yeah..I didn’t expect pink pots and pans in the kitchen,” he says, giving you a sideways glance suddenly getting “serious”
You grin, hopping over to the stove where your pink heart-shaped pots now sit, taking up space next to his old, practical, and ugly ones. “What? You said you wanted to cook, and now you can really impress your friends with your new kitchen aesthetic”
He laughs, there’s a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You’re turning my apartment into... well, whatever this is.” He waves a hand at the room, gesturing to the mix of colors and stickers, you scattered all over the place. “You know, my friends are gonna ask me about those.”
“So?” you say with a grin, as you jump on his kitchen counter. “Let them wonder.”
“not too eager to get on their good side?.”
“Never!” you say, kicking his growing bulge with your foot. “But I think they’ll get used to it eventually.”
“doubt it” he replies with a head shake, you reach out to pull him in by his belt loops. He settles in between your legs and finds the familiar curve of your hips, a place that’s beginning to feel like home —atleast for him. “But it’s alright, pretty girl. I like it this way.”
“I’m glad you like it,” you say, tipping your head forward to meet his forehead. There’s a softness in the way he looks at you, like everything in the apartment
You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, something that feels so natural now. “you’ve got me now, and I’ve got you” You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips “right?”
“Yeah, I do” he says softly, his arms tightening around you and chasing your lips again
Even if Drew’s and your friends don’t totally get it, it doesn’t matter. He’s yours, you made sure that was evident. Your little evidence loud and clear in his apartment
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© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓
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jazzywrldastro · 2 months ago
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✩ℋℴ𝓌 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝓅ℴ𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℛ𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓈𝒾ℊ𝓃𝓈✩
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆
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Aries rising
fire crackers and go getters of the zodiac
✮ Motivated individuals
✮ Take action to anything
✮ Have the confidence of an Aries sun
✮ Have quick impulsivity and are passionate about what they love
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Taurus rising
✮ Practical and friendly
✮ Determined and sometimes have the stubbornness
✮ Very grounded and just a "chill person"
✮ Love things that are full of beauty and love art (that means they like good food like gourmet foods) (almost a Taurus sun would)
✮ Nothing too flashy and showy for a Taurus rising ( same as a Taurus sun would )
✮ Not afraid to to put in hard. Very grounded and just a "chill person"
✮ Love things that are full of beauty and love art (that means they like good food like gourmet foods) (almost a Taurus sun would)
✮ Nothing too flashy and showy for a Taurus rising ( same as a Taurus sun would )
✮ Not afraid to to put in hard work and get their hands, jumbled up and dirty
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Gemini rising
learning comes quick for them !!! ☻︎
✮ social skills are immaculate, their social butterfly, and love conversations that are stimulating
✮ Need engaging conversations
✮ Can talk about their feelings and feel better quick witted people
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Cancer rising
✮ Comfort, givers and lovers and her great
✮ listeners are compassionate and loving
✮ Empathetic and carrying the weight of
worlds
✮ They hide their feelings, sometimes
(similar to a cancer sun)
✮ Need boundaries otherwise they clap back
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Leo rising
✮ Natural born leaders think of " the lion king" and their is confidence and power that's inside of a Leo rising that sometimes people see
✮ Have a very, very giving and generous heart
✮ They have natural swagger and they're like just so cool.( I have a leo sun so l know how this is)
might have a fucked up back and need to get it fixed
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Virgo rising
✮ Organized, put together and reliable
✮ Definitely a perfectionist (I'm an artist and I do one line on my drawing and it don't look right and then i crumble it up and start over until it looks perfect) (I'm a perfectionist for real)
✮ Can have a resting bitch face - I have one ☻︎
✮ Friends ask you for your advice, they have a love language of acts of service.
✮ Have a dainty fairy looking face prominent, button nose and cheeky smile 😊
✮ Reserved and shy (usually I am closed off until I get comfortable and I observe people's energy before i befriend) everyone thinks Virgos or Virgo placements are just mean and snobby - this is a misconception.
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Libra rising
✮ Naturally attracted to beautiful things
✮ Romantics- hopeless romantics
✮ Can can have sharp tongues, but excellent communicators (social butterflies they say)
✮ Naturally picture perfect beauties
✮ Care about the happiness of others
✮ Flirty as hell (with every body and their mama) (Venus rules this sign) (Venus rules this sign)
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Scorpio rising
✮ Mysterious and reserved also quiet especially if it's a female (gives them a dark feminine energy)
✮ Can be observant and obsessive to people to get to know them
✮ Sexually alluring and powerful - 18+ ( kinky as hell) probably into bdsm, very sensual
✮ Pluto rules this sign- rules transformation and sexuality
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Sagittarius rising
✮ Intelligent some what knowledgeable and interested in the world and people in it
✮ Adventurous and love exploring and enjoying and experiencing new things to learn or have fun with- you won't get tired of them or be bored
✮ Outspoken and very bold not afraid to go all out
✮ Positivity loving and optimistic and see the brightness in people and things
✮ Jupiter rules this sign- so enjoying and experiencing new things to learn or have fun with- you won't get tired of them or be bored
✮ Outspoken and very bold not afraid to go
all out
✮ Positivity loving and optimistic and see
the brightness in people and things
✮ Jupiter rules this sign- so think of opportunities, optimism and hope and beliefs
Capricorn rising
✮ Very much reserved but driven ( especially if they have a passion they love)
✮ Can be more of a dad vibe energy and can
✮ be disciplinary ( gives major dom energy if you're kinky)
Aquarius rising
✮ Intellectual and love sharing knowledge to
others
✮ Likes to make everyone smile
✮ Weirdos tbh
Pisces rising
✮ Empathetic and dreamy
thats all for now loveliesss! ♡
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doiliedaze · 8 days ago
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Bloodlust: part two
Pitfighter! Vi x Stripper! Reader
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Warnings: vi is starting to get her shit together so slow burn, reader is smitten even though she tries not to be, over protective vi, possessive reader, pouty reader, jealous reader, playing stupid games and getting stupid prizes
Genre: fluff, angst
1
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Vi and I have fell into a routine. She goes out and does what she does, picks me up from the club then we go back to my place. I know! This is extremely stupid but she’s just so? Now that I’m getting to know her I can’t stop.
I refuse to go back to that “home” of hers therefore we go to mine. Sure it’s shit but it’s organized and decorated. Plants here, fairy lights there, photos of friends and family! Vi picks on me for it, my “comfy ambiance” but I know she likes it.
“Doll c’mon we’re gonna be late!” Vi yells as she walks into my bathroom. “Y’know I can hear you? You don’t have to yell.”
“Your hard-headed so I have to make sure.” Her stupid smirk spreads on her face, it’s so kissable. “I’m almost done I just have to finish my makeup” I mumble.
Vi sits on the counter and stares at me. She always does this when I’m doing anything. She likes to follow me around and watch, which I don’t mind it’s just new? Especially when she asks questions! Like you care? That’s strange!
“What does this do?” She picks up my setting spray, “it sets my makeup so I don’t sweat it off but I have gone out without it and been fine unless I’m dancing.” She mutters that it smells good.
To tease her I say, “you think everything I own smells good.”
“They do! You just smell really good.”
Vi hops off the counter and steps in front of me causing me to pout. “Vi I can’t see the mirror.” I add a little whine wanting to get my way.
With a soft smile she softly wraps a hand around my neck and pulls me closer. “Can I kiss you please?” She whispers against my lips.
We’ve kissed before here and there but it always happens when we’re cuddling.
“You can-”
I couldn’t finish giving her permission before she presses her lips against mine. It was soft and slow but her grip tightened slightly. Her other hand moves to my toweled hip and pulls me close.
Even though we’re in a rather intimate position, I feel no intention behind her kiss. She makes my heart flutter and my head dizzy.
Eventually she pulls away and laughs, “get a new setting spray I got some of your concealer on me” she laughs as she moves to wipe her face.
“That’s what happens when you kiss me when I have my base wet still.” She tilts her head in confusion and I just kiss her cheek and continue what I was doing.
The plan is going out to eat and not starting shit. There’s been a pattern of whenever we go out one of us gets into something and I don’t want to bite off another nail set!
Vi always walks behind me. I tell her she doesn’t have to, that she can be beside me but she just glares.
“Good thing you don’t have laser eyes!” I try to joke but there’s just moments when her hard exterior pops out. I clear my throat and keep waking until I feel her pull on my hand so she can hold it. Silent reassurance it can be comforting but it can be dismissing as well.
When we’re out and eating she’s quiet, always on the look out.
I tap my foot against hers, “Vi…you can relax.”
“I am” She mutters as she eats, “it’s easier to focus on something, if not then I’ll want to drink but I don’t want to anymore.” I perk up at that.
We had one conversation about her drinking habits and we got into a yelling match over it. So I leave it alone. “I’m proud of you, that takes a lot of courage.” I can tell she’s trying to hide her lopsided grin but it comes out anyway.
I move my hand over to rub hers. “Thank you wisp.” She says the end mockingly. “It’s y/n” I say as I clear my throat and drink my water.
Her hand grips mine a bit harder, “you must really like me huh?”
“Shut up Violet” I look away feeling my body tingle.
The rest of the evening we chatted about things we don’t talk about; our dreams. I want to be a doctor well as much as you can be down here. She’s not quite sure but I think she could do anything maybe take back The Last Drop. Run it herself, shit I’ll help her if I have to.
When we get back to my place I show her all the books I stole from Piltover so I can further my education.
Excited to hear me read she pushed me on the bed and laid on me, her feet dangling off the bed. I read about neurology as she falls asleep.
I could get use to her living with me, I mean She basically does. I just hate having to separate at night. I hate when I clean her up after her fights. I hate I can’t go there and see her either, it’s one of the only rules she has but I worry.
I’ve expressed this to my homegirls and their bright idea was to go see her fight anyway! I know you don’t have to be influenced by your friends blah blah blah but when Roulette said she could be keeping another bitch from me I got a bit…anxious to say the least.
So we go to the arena and I’m not even sure why she’s take another girl here. Jealousy is such a dumb emotion but she mentioned an ex before and I just…I don’t want to be replaced. Too many times in my life have I been an option. That’s all I could focus on, being picked.
“I need therapy” I mutter, “no you need to find out why you can’t be here, we’ve all seen violence so why can’t you be here?” Roulette says as she sucks her teeth.
I know I’m just letting her gas me up and I should respect Vi’s boundaries but I just can’t it’s as simple as that I’m not ready to just trust her blindly.
We get seats and red tickets to resemble that we’re rooting for Vi. She’s fighting these extreme looking people round after round and she’s prevailing. The more I watch the more my stomach turns, I feel like I shouldn’t be here that I should leave.
Doesn’t matter…as she celebrates her last win of the night her eyes fall on mine. Her usual soft gaze replaced by a hardened stare.
She just walks off and I know I need to get down there. As I’m speed walking down she meets me halfway and crosses her arms. “The fuck are you doing here?”
“I was curious…” I say looking down till she grabbed my chin and made ms look up. Her grip wasn’t harsh at all, “you are going to look at me and don’t lie to me!” She raises her voice but it’s pointless. It’s so loud in here.
I look back at my girls and they urge me on and Vi scoffs, “you’re letting them influence your dumbass decisions?”
“What do you mean by them because those girls are my friends, they want to protect me!”
“Friends stop you from being insecure they don’t encourage the shit!” She yells getting closer to me.
I scoff, “why can’t I be here?”
“Why would I bring you here? Why would I want you to see me like this?”
“I see you through everything else I don’t get why I can’t see you! You come to the club and I don’t want you there!” She gives me a look like a dumbass, “that’s different you need me at the club, so someone is actually looking out for you! What are you gonna do for me here mhm?”
I suck my teeth and I move my face from her hold. “And this whole I have a girl here because I know that’s what they told you is stupid! Worse part is you know that’s stupid! You can be so fucking naive-”
“Don’t talk to me like that!” She laughs, “don’t give me that pouty victim shit, you were dead wrong for coming here wisp I gave you one boundary and you couldn’t listen!”
All the words in my throat die when she calls me wisp. She’s right, I was being jealous and immature…I couldn’t help it though all of this was going too good.
She can see how my eyes fell and she sighs, “c’mere.”
Vi wraps her arms around me and walks me out. We walk to my house in silence.
When we get in she let’s go of me but I can’t let her go, I feel so pathetic and small. I’ve never had the consistent company of anyone else. There’s so many things I’ve said and done around her I never thought I’d do with someone. I threw it all away over bullshit.
I rest my head in her neck, “‘m so sorry, that was so stupid I should’ve just trusted you but I couldn’t.” My voice muddles as I start to sniff, she takes my face into her hands. “It’s okay, I mean this whole thing started cause I didn’t listen to you yeah? It was just your turn to be the insecure dumbass.” She snorts and I pout.
“But I don’t wanna make you upset.” She pulls me close, pressing her forehead against mine. “You’ll make me upset, and I’ll upset you that’s love baby.”
Fuck me, is this love? I mean what else would it be? Do I say it back? Technically she didn’t say it like I love you but she called it love-
My thoughts get interrupted when she kisses my forehead, “earth to y/n, just said this is love and you space on me.” She says tryna laugh but I see the anxiety in her body.
“Sorry, what am I supposed to say?” She let’s out a boisterous laugh and shakes her head, “just acknowledge it I guess I’m not sure last time I…you can just say how you feel.”
I take a deep breath and say, “I love you. I love you so much that I can’t stand a second we’re not together. I love you so much that I want you to live with me. I love you so much that I want to better myself and not just for you but more-so for me because of your love?”
My eyes search hers as she lets my words seep in. “You want to live with me?” Her voice trembles, “but I’m…and you, are you sure?”
“Vi just say yes.” She nods as she pulls me into another hug. I hold onto her, jumping up to wrap my legs around her. I kiss all over her face and I wipe her tears.
“We’re family now.”
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A/N: one more part!! I had high hopes for this story but after I write part one I was okay with it cause I never worked with these themes before but I’m starting to like it after this one and I’m excited to write part three!! I have to practice writing jealousy cause I think it was kinda stale and fast paced but I had no idea how to push it? Hope you all enjoyed!!
Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian @furrytaesss
Dividers: @dollywons
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3eyesdivine · 9 months ago
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Reigns’ Girl
Chapter Two : After Class
inspired by the movie Miller’s Girl and song Teacher’s Pet.
warnings ; 18+ only, smut, intimate & heavily erotic scenes, teacher x college student plot, angst, thriller, obsession, drug use
It's been two weeks since I started Mr. Reigns' class, and my desire for him is growing by the minute. I've noticed every little detail about him, from the way he runs his big hand down his long, dark beard when reading, which is accented by little strands of gray hair here and there, to the way he twists and turns the black wedding band on his left hand when he's talking to someone, almost as if he's processing his thoughts before they turn into words.
“See me after class.” I heard a deep, velvety voice murmur near my neck and turned to see Mr. Reigns kneeling over me, his right hand lowering a piece of paper onto my desk with a letter grade scribbled in red. My gaze quickly shifted from his to the large A+ in the corner of my work. 
I wasn't given a chance to respond before he sauntered away to put the lesson to an end. 
I wish I could have him closer. Body to body and skin to skin. His aroma was comforting, like vanilla with a dash of shea butter. 
"Work on your homework for the night please, It's due first thing tomorrow." I heard him call to the class, followed by the sound of students racing and rustling as they grabbed their stuff and left their desks, moving one by one as they hurriedly exited the classroom.
Getting up slowly, I approached Mr. Reigns' desk and rested my palms on it, bending forward and looking up at the guy with an illusion of naivety in my pretty eyes. 
His deep brown eyes seared into mine, dark and low. I recognize that gaze anywhere, one filled with desire, want, and sex.
"You're an amazing writer, Lilith. Your paper was the best I’ve read in a while." He praises, extending out his hand to direct attention to a little seated area in his classroom.
It had a cottage core feel about it, with a hint of forest fairy. It held a warm tone to it, with occasional hints of green. It was like a miniature captivating library, with four small shelves mounted on top of each other, each full and organized with both old and modern books. The two of us take seats across from each other, the man adjusting his attire while I let my sight wander over the little space we're in.
“So, Ms. Dumas, your paper.”
My focus shifts to him, and I'm all ears as I straighten up and smile politely. 
“Yes. I wasn't very confident in it, but I'm glad you felt so highly of my writing ability.” I conversed while glancing down at my hands, where my fingers danced against one another. A coping mechanism I adopted as a way to handle certain things, in this case, a powerful blush battling to find its way across my cheeks.
“She was quiescent, her voice soft and sweet like nectar. She hummed a tune, the same melody every day at the same time; at this point, it had become an official aubade for the peculiar girl, but only she could purr it in a far more euphonious manner than the original.”
He pauses and takes a breath, as if it was written with such intensity that it nearly strikes the life out of him.
But, he proceeds..
“This was the woman's early morning ritual as she sat in her overgrown garden at a little, old table painted white with a few chips and cracks that only revealed the furniture's age. Atop the table were a pile of books, each of which she had read several times and would continue to do so whilst she couldn't get enough of the art that lay just beyond the hardcovers of each one.”
I was floored. 
"You remembered that whole piece?" I questioned. My eyes were probably wide enough that they were popping out of their sockets, and I watched the man smile with a scarlet hue along his cheeks as he turned away for a brief moment before returning my gaze.
"Yeah, that must've been a bit over the top, Ms. Dumas. I apologize. That one paragraph just happened to be what caught my attention the most. I must've read your paper about a dozen times." He admits with a big smile upon his lips, revealing his flawless teeth, without a single one out of shape or disfigured in any way.
This man was downright perfect.
"Your writing is beyond outstanding." He adds.
It felt like this man reached into my chest and gave my heart a small jolt of life; it was racing and thumping so fast that I was a bit frightened I might pass out.
I leaned back against the cushion of the little couch I was sitting on and glanced at the man, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth. "You know, I've read your work too."
Mr. Reigns' eyes reached me faster than light. 
"You read my book? Seriously?" He queried, his expression appearing intrigued though he tried to mask it.
I nodded and leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, my dazzling brown eyes piercing into his.
"I would quote every word off the top of my head but it wasn't really a book appropriate enough to be spoken about within school walls." I dared to say, and the man's instant response was to adjust his seated position to the edge of the chair.
We're inches away..
Just a little closer. 
"I wrote it about my wife, Ms. Dumas. So, you'd be correct. Nothing in that book is suitable for conversation in this environment.”
He dared to move another inch closer.
Goodness, just a tad more and we’re nearly kissing.
Please.
“Even for the innocent mind of a nineteen-year-old college student." He concluded.
Innocent, my ass.
But, nevertheless, I could feel it. A heavy and overwhelming sense of tension that settled in the air surrounding us. This was undeniable sexual tension. 
My thighs gently pushed together as I felt an aching of passion between my legs, a pulse so powerful that I had to suppress a whimper. There's no question he felt it as well, as evidenced by the way he gulped so hard I could hear it and his breathing, which was formerly calm and controlled but had become heavy and unsteady. 
"Have a good weekend then, Lilith." He husked, moving away slowly, and I could no longer feel the warmth emanating from his presence.
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Thank you for reading! Chapter three will be up hopefully soon, maybe some smut ;) !
In the meantime, send in some requests and if you'd like to be tagged in this series and many more works of mine, don't be afraid to let me know.
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emmatherevert · 2 months ago
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Different roles make us stronger
Many people ask whether my husband and I are equals.
I usually return the question: "What do you mean by equal?"
Before Allah both men and women are equal and worth the same - Allah only cares about how virtuous we live our lives.
But in our family we have different roles: Hasan leads, I follow his lead. He is the head of our family, I am the heart.
Like in a human body, you need both a head and a heart for the body to function - you cannot replace the heart by adding another head. Not only would the body die, because the flow of blood would simply stop, a body with 2 heads is also the body of a monster - and it's no coincidence that fairy tales featuring 2-headed monsters often have them destroyed through disagreement between the two heads.
A body with 2 hearts could probably work, but without a head it would lack any sense of direction, purpose or consciousness, it would be a heap of organic matter somewhere between life and death. (I just noticed that my little metaphor also explains, why Muslim men can take up to 4 wives, while Muslim wives can only have one husband - a body with multiple hearts and one head probably really could work, while a body with multiple heads and just one heart won't. Nice.)
"So you don't get equal rights with your man?" No. Rights within a family always need a purpose. If we have different roles, we need different rights to fulfill them. The husband doesn't get the right to make certain decisions because he is better or worth more than the wife, but because his role is that of a leader, and as a leader, he has to be able to make decisions for the other family members. The wife doesn't get the right to be fully supported by her husbands money and work because she is better or worth more than him, but because of her role as her husbands follower. To fully follow him, she must be sure that her material and emotional needs will always be met by him.
"So he has more rights than you?" More? As in a bigger number? Well, if you count every situation where he can make a decision "over my head", his rights are probably quite numerous. On the other hand, if you count every situation, where I have the right to consume a thing he had been working for without feeling guilty or in debt for it, or every time where I can chose to not bother about a thing because it's his job to take care of it, my rights are also plenty.
We have different rights, because we have different roles in our family. Our children already recognize this instinctively, by the way: They come to me for "heart" things like when they're hurt or feel sad, and they go to Hasan for "head" things like getting permission for something or when they want certain goods like books or video games. Because we are both sure and secure in our roles, our family is stronger.
I can trust Hasan, that her will always take care of me and that he will always to decide in the best interest of our family. Does he make mistakes? Sure, he's human. Hasan can trust me, that I will always follow his lead and not put up a fight about petty grievances. Do I make mistakes? Sure, I'm human.
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flip-fop · 4 months ago
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Remember you asked for this. Here's the fairy sex ed post
Partially cross posting from twitter but without nearly as much of a character limit, if you recognize it no you don't <3
Vaguely nsft under the cut; this is intended to be a psuedoscientific exploration of speculative biology and fairy reproduction, please don't reply to this post with highly sexual commentary (jokes are fine lmao) because this is primarily a family friendly blog.
Prefix:
Starting this off by saying that, while this post is going to focus on reproduction via their physical forms, fairies are essentially made of magic and can, for the most part, manipulate those forms at will. Think of these like the default settings of physical manifestation. Also it's worth noting that while I'm for the most part using human biology terms, fairies themselves probably have ridiculously whimsical names for all these organs that have existed for billions of years, but this isn't a language post. This is not meant to be a full comprehensive medical guide to the complexities of gender in fairy culture, nor will it cover every possible variation of default physical forms. This is your middle school "where do babies come from" level of documentation. The terms "male" and "female" are used to describe fairies as they are "assigned" at birth, however, please don't take this to mean trans and nonbinary fairies don't exist, they definitely do.
Anatomy:
When manifesting physical forms, fairies develop traits based on the dominant species of the world they will primarily engage with, in this case, humans. (1) This leads to the development of secondary sex characteristics such as breast tissue and facial hair. While these traits have evolved over millennia spent alongside humans, they are still derived from magic, and can not be used to qualify fairies as mammals. Fairies are an oviviparous species, meaning an embryo will develop within a fertilized egg and depend on that egg for nutrients, but will hatch inside the parent's body and result in a live birth. (2)
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Females produce eggs and lay them via an ovipositor. Males produce sperm via internal testes used to fertilize eggs as they pass through the birth canal towards the brood pouch via penetration by ovipositor. The birth canal and ovipositor are both is self lubricating when aroused to assist the transfer of eggs, and the internal pelvic muscular structure in male fairies is designed to pull the eggs as deep as possible to increase chances of fertilization within the brood pouch. The urinary and reproductive systems are completely separate because they keep canonically arguing about leaving the toilet seat up and while I'm only loosely respectful of canon I can also do whatever I want forever. The female urethra exists behind the ovipositor while the male urethra is connected to a non-reproductively functional penis. Ovipositors tend to be slightly larger than penises, and female fairies tend to be slightly larger than males in general, but this is primarily dependent on the individuals Both the ovipositor and penis have an abundance of nerve endings and experience arousal, though male ejaculation is entirely internal. The brood pouch is functionally a uterus in human terms, however, as the developing embryo derives nutrients from the egg and has no need to fully attach, the brood pouch does not have a lining and, sorry everyone, men don't get periods, nobody has to get periods in my world because I'm a benevolent god. Fairies experience 3 types of puberty, "pooferty(3)" "pasta puberty(4)" and sexual maturation. The first two of these involve developmental milestones and magic-hormone interactions, so they are best set to the wayside for a different post, though I will note here that most secondary sex characteristics will develop in manifest forms at the end stages of pasta puberty. The sexual maturation stage of puberty is the only stage in which hormone production is more of an active cause than magic. Females may begin laying eggs during this time, and nocturnal depositing is very common in teenagers and nothing to be ashamed of, it's a very normal experience to wake up to the occasional egg or two. At the end of class you'll receive a pamphlet with a section on proper disposal spells. Males may experience abdominal cramping during third puberty, as their brood pouch swells slightly to accommodate possible eggs, this is not cyclical in the way human periods are, and once they've had their last growth spurt and the pouch settles in its more spacious form, any residual cramping should subside. Until then, the pamphlets offered at the end of class will also have a section on magical pain relief.
Reproduction:
A female fairy can lay between 1-5 eggs, which are semi-gelatinous in texture and range from .5"-1" (1.27-2.54cm) in size. Egg coloration comes in a myriad of pastels, but despite some outdated theories, the coloration of the egg indicates nothing about the potential appearance of the baby. As previously stated, when the female lays her egg/s inside the male they are fertilized internally. The male will carry the fertilized egg/s in his brood pouch, but the embryo will remain inside the egg through development, using it as a source of magical nutrients If an egg laid inside a partner in whatever orifice is not successfully fertilized, it dissolves within a matter of 6-12 hours. Birth control looks a lot different for fairies because it's essentially exclusive to a morning after spell to forcibly dissolve the eggs anyway. After a 3 month gestation period, the embryo will have fully absorbed the nutrients from the egg and will essentially have "eaten" it's way out, which will trigger the father going into labor and, theoretically, delivering the baby via birth canal. In practice however, magical c-sections(5) were the go-to long before the baby ban. Seriously this has been the preferred method for millennia. Only holier-than-tho crunchy granola weirdos get superior about non-magically assisted delivery.
Citations:
In s3ep12 Abracatastrophy we learn that fairies take on godparenting duties and physical traits of the earths dominant species.
https://byjus.com/biology/viviparous-oviparous-embryo-development/#ovoviviparity
s9ep38 School of Crock Peri goes through pooferty, but this is also one of those concepts I've entirely restructured in my mind.
ANW s1ep18 Growing Pains introduces pasta puberty, and I'm keeping that canon on the grounds that it's funny.
In s6ep1 Fairly Odd Baby we gain a basic and superficial overview of fairy gestation. It's the mpreg episode.
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oceanlipgloss · 6 months ago
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PROFANE
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SIMEON.
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+ warnings: angst supposedly in a fairly high dose, but I'm too dead to be 100% sure or even moved rn (with a great deal of fluff btw :D)
+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.
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He winked at her, and she imagined her heart was made of plastic; if it were so, it would not be as elastic.
Ribbons of black despair unspooled in her throat. She dreaded that he loved her. A love pure in the heart, profane in the eyes of God.
Perhaps something obscene really did coat that adoration now. It spread without limit, dark and hideous like mould and rot.
It was all so innocent. They were both so innocent. Until soon, much too soon, their hearts began to change and distort and go wrong.
Their souls began to blaze with longing.
Smooth skin and silky fabric met in the hallways. Hands of soulmates casually brushed as warm bodies walked together. Emptiness disappeared from between human fingers once those of an angel locked the gaps, in the beginning gentle and reluctant.
Resistance was turning molten.
Her screen glowed with rosy letters and romantic notes. His quiet voice had lulled her to sleep with affection and stories so many times before.
Lately they stayed up late talking about special nothings and listening to their quiet laughter swirl into one melody. The night was theirs alone; they wished all but them would stay asleep at home.
Lately his fingertips ghosted over her temples and trembled against the blush on her neck. In his mind, that lovely velvet powder could scatter in the air under the tremor of his touch and the march of her violent pulse, as though it were ruby pixie dust.
He was her mirror, and she was his. They mirrored one another, reflected each other. When he smiled at her, her soft lips gleamed. Whenever he glanced at her, her gaze sparkled back at him, too. The minute those turquoise irises found her, she felt a river of blue and green washing over her organs.
She was in love with an angel, and the angel was head over heels for her. One would think it is only normal—natural—that their love surpasses the ordinary and be almost magical in its essence, but theirs was a love glowing in a world beyond all common fairy tales, all great spells, beyond the Holy Bible itself.
The boundaries were breaking down.
It was he who would be dealt the cruelest hand. Both of them knew that, yet neither of them stopped. His fingers kept lacing with hers, his hands kept brushing back her hair, his eyes kept seeking her figure.
And she gave in. Despite the lurking punishment, she let him.
Selfish.
The angel had told her that there were times when the sight of her—brighter than a halo on fire—in the childish company of others, or the mere thought of anyone else doting on her, left his entire being rippling with jealousy, trembling with envy. The angel had told her that he was so deeply in love, now too far gone and possessive.
He had always been different, somewhat rebellious. Within him were unexpected shadows. Yet, she could not help but wonder: had her love corrupted him, or had it merely yanked darkness into the light, away from slumber?
She knew it would take much, much time, but for him she would decide and avoid.
So all of a sudden, their laughs seized from twirling in the night. The stars in her eyes turned into ice. Love letters became silent questions. There was harrowing anguish and confusion in his eyes. He began to bleed on the inside. The teal river in her blood gushed, a vicious crimson tide.
Once—very long ago, it seemed—they were so close, almost one.
This was meant to be an incomplete love.
Now she stood far away, watching him from behind moonlit glass, unreachable from afar; but no matter how far apart they were, she could still always see his heart burning in the distance.
It had all been so innocent. They had both been so innocent.
Or so she had thought.
Two souls in love, two bodies yearning. Slowly, ever so slowly, their minds had been getting tinged with need. It had tainted the clarity of their hearts.
She was a mortal bound to the realm of mistake and sin, so she was the one temptation ruined first.
And then it was his turn.
Still, was that really how things had worked?
Sweet tension had sparked and flowed between them like a stream of stars. In such a journey, no one earned the ‘number one’ rank.
For with love come a thousand desires, and a thousand desires bring profanity along.
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+note: lately I've been sticking this at the end of almost every fic I put up, so I might as well just copy-paste my own words at this point, right? Wrong. You see, each of these little notes must be nearly identical, yet different. Unique! But yeah, moving on. I present to you another WIP so old and dusty it may as well be an ancestor. I finished writing it last night, so it finally got discharged from the elderly home for WIPs. A coupon to freedom! A ticket to the public digital stage! Congratulations to it and I both! *applause* (+1 to my favourite works *spoonfeeds fic to collection*) is there a chance I might change my mind someday? Sure why not
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+ MASTERLIST
+ AO3 POST
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©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨
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happilychee · 1 year ago
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sabertooth headcanons pt. 1
I feel like mashima could've made sabertooth just a smidge less flat... they all had so much angst in them and the potential to evolve and grow as people... or they could all turn nice in the span of an episode. that works too.
♡ sting is a sweetheart. he's a genuine, caring, and kind boy who grows up to be a charming and earnest young man. that is, unless he's on the battlefield. old sabertooth sting makes an appearance in those moments. his smirk is cruel, his taunts are like daggers, jabbing away at the opponent. he's cocky and arrogant, and maybe he has the right to be so because his attacks are so powerful they blow the enemy away.
♡ lector is the kind of friend who talks major shit about whatever you're doing as he's helping you. he tells sting how dumb it is to go on a mission alone in mid-flight to their destination. ride or die? nah, lector is fly or die.
♡ rufus loves tea brewing. this is one of the few areas of knowledge that he chooses not to use his magic on. he loves sitting down with a good book and reading about the history of tea, tea cultivation, the proper culinary techniques to brew the perfect cup of tea.
♡ orga is the reason sabertooth has open-mic nights. the (second) strongest guild in fiore turns into a comedy club on tuesday nights, and surprisingly, it's good. orga serenades whoever comes to mind that night: it's been sting, rogue, yukino, all the usual suspects, and on one memorable occasion, mr. yajima. yukino tells the most wholesome, funny stories while frosch and lector act out the scene behind her. in what was probably the most fever dream moment of sting's life, minerva took the mic and delivered such a seething, deadpan stand-up that she got the entire guild cheering for her.
♡ minerva goes all out for halloween. besides just being into arcane magic and the history of magic, she loves spooky things. also, she's a bit fucked up, and this is a good outlet for her. sabertooth will gladly take minerva's scarily detailed sculptures of severed limbs over her lashing out any day of the week. to her guildmates' surprise, she also organizes a family-friendly haunted house in the guild hall for the kids of gazania.
♡ in my heart of hearts, sting does not become sabertooth's guild master. I headcanon him as a healer, so I think he would establish an infirmary in sabertooth and oversee it. unsure if rogue or minerva becomes guild master. I think minerva would be better suited for the role, but there's also recency bias against her because of jiemma. and she needs time to process everything that went into sabertooth's upheaval.
♡ which sabertooth member do you never want to piss off? you might think it's minerva or rufus or even the twin dragons. no. it's yukino. she is the sweetest, kindest member of sabertooth by far, and also the most patient. if you offend yukino, she's unlikely to do much about it, but celestials forbid you hurt her friends, especially minerva. she'll send her spirits after you, and no one will ever find your body.
♡ sabertooth, despite their efforts to become a kinder place, is still a hard guild to get into. they're not like fairy tail where anyone can just join. the core members argue for a long while about what kind of entrance test they should have. ultimately they decide on a test of strength, but not just physical ability. minerva says that it's in the eyes, whether someone has the drive and tenacity to always improve themselves and make sabertooth proud. she tries to be subtle, but she's also staring at yukino the entire time. one eyebrow wiggle from lector turns minerva as red as the cat's fur.
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gatheringbones · 2 days ago
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[“These books are the reason I have so much love, happiness, and friendship in my life, even a little bit of money and power. Copies of books that I have on my shelf at home. Copies of books I’d loaned out and never gotten back. Books I’d always meant to get around to. Books from my own subcultures (Cyd Nova in an Ace bandage binder giving that come-hither leer on the cover of Original Plumbing #1, 2009). Books cited in this book (Gayle S. Rubin’s Deviations, Re/Search’s Confessions of Wanda von Sacher-Masoch, 1990). Books by or featuring people I’ve fucked, that I’ve loved, that have mistreated me, that I’ve forgiven, that died before I could get them to sign my copy. Books I haven’t even discovered yet.
The collection does not make a distinction between high, low, or middle brow, between queer or straight, mainstream or adult film. There are probably a lot of ideas in the library I would disagree with, books I would prefer to strike from the canon… but they’re all here, side by side with my favorites, safeguarded and dog-eared for us to get our greasy paws all over, to debate over, to change our minds and hotwire our hearts. Fetishes we never thought we’d been into, until we saw this one particular video or found this one particular zine.… Photobooks of lingerie, cheesecake pinups, the Torture Garden club; comics from Guido Crepax to Bondage Fairies; matchbooks from decades of shuttered queer bars. Binders full of the seminal lesbian porn rag On Our Backs organized as innocuously as any home filing system. Magazines with names like Freedom in Restraint, Knotty, Beneath Her Feet, Body Play, Spread, Poz, The Leather Journal, Drummer, Masquerade, Anything That Moves, Handjobs, and my favorite pun discovery, Venus Infers. Images that have been canonized as high art like Mapplethorpe alongside unpretentious hardcore porn from Raging Stallion Studios. A 1983 newsletter from the pagan St. Priapus Church that provides the schedule for sacred time with “jack-off buddies” and declares in bold letters, “Sex can destroy evil.”
I could spend all day here every day of the residency and not even have begun to read every sentence, take in every image, make every connection. Two thousand people will come through: people I’ve fucked for money, people whose videos I’ve jerked off to, people who have broken my heart, people who I have crushes on right now, people I’ll never meet, people who have taught me so much, people who have a lot to learn.”]
tina horn, from why are people into that? a cultural investigation of kink, 2024
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driftward · 8 months ago
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Log Entries 59-112
Log Entry 59
The Madam Commander has a social calendar once more. This is good.
I cannot help her with that, and that is bad. I am so annoyed!
I am a fairy construct! My Scholar’s extra hand! I used to handle her appointments, set alarums, take notes, help organize her schedule, pop reminders, push updates, and otherwise free her up to do important work! We are a team, and I was her able partner, and now, and NOW, all I can do is look over her shoulder and try to nudge her hand every once in a while when she is writing!
It never works.
She complains about feeling useless, but I actually AM useless! Where is Lav? Maybe I can get her to do the work on my behalf.
She does not even have her glasses. How is she going to keep track of any of this.
Log Entry 59 Addendum
With arcanima. She will keep track with arcanima, of course, she still has her codex. I still wish I could help.
Also she still has the bad habit of setting entirely too many alarums.
Log Entry 61
Madam Archon has looked her over once more. The Chirurgeon has performed tests. The Adept has tried more hands-on techniques. There are still no answers, but they cleared the Madam Commander for more strenuous activity. The Adept has suggested perhaps they can alter their outing to try a few things out, which Madam Commander has agreed to.
I have decided to perform my own investigations. I am a Nymian Fairy construct. We are intelligent beings, and have the knowledge of an entire civilization we can call upon to aid our Scholars.
First, the data. The Madam Commander’s essence yet remains thin. I myself am more than stable. I have a surfeit of aether, but cannot seem to interact meaningfully with the material plane.
I still try to talk to her. And I can sometimes experience what she is experiencing. It is an interesting sensation. She is so large! I do not know how she is not clumsy. And heavy. And big.
Further investigation is needed, I feel.
Long Entry 68
I don’t know how I didn’t notice earlier. But I think… I think the Madam Commander is my new soul well. We are almost like unto one. Which may be why I cannot inhabit the soul armature, nor even the original Scholar stone. She is my anchor, now, and where I go when I rest.
I have always been able to feel what the Madam Commander feels. I am a construct, a familiar, based on an anima spirit. We have always had that connection. But it is changing, somehow. It’s almost like I have special insight now. More than just an impression of her thoughts. More frequently, I can experience her senses.
We are almost like unto one. I … don’t know what this means. For either of us.
Log Entry 72
A ‘spa day’ with the Adept. It was nice! She was nice. The Madam Commander always is brighter, lighter around the Adept. And I got to share those experiences. The smells were so wonderful! And the varieties of soaps. The Adept has long left little care baskets for the Madam Commander, but she went above and beyond today. People who painted, and made her nails and face colorful in new and interesting ways. People who touched, and where they touched, muscles relaxed. Warm baths. Contrasts! A room so hot I was concerned it may be too much, a pool actually at zero celtius.
It was nice. And the Adept gave so much of her attention and time and care. I knew Adepts could be kind people, often helpful to a fault, but the way she paid attention, helped the Madam Commander relax, listened to her babble and smiled and laughed, it was a genuine brightness to the day.
I like her. The Madam Commander likes her as well. Though, weirdly, she also gets a little nervous around her. Increased heart rate, body temperature, tenseness. But it faded as the day went on.
Oh and the smells of being in this city. The patterns of the colors forming a harmonious whole. I am getting increasingly used to being part of the Madam Commander, and if there was a good day for us to integrate more, this was it.
Mind, I have no idea how to do that, but it felt like a good day for it.
Log Entry 75
Alright, we’re starting to get back into it. Picked up a few leves. People are being delicate but encouraging about this, I’ve noticed. The Madam Commander is never allowed alone, which is great. Perfect, actually. A Scholar is at their best when they have people on the field with them. The Leftenent, in particular, is really showing up now.
Log Entry 78
I continue my experimentation, with the Madam Commander’s senses and physical being. With some focus, I think I can bring her closer to me, but this is not useful. I tried to direct her hand to pick up a tea cup today, and instead of picking it up, I think her hand went straight through it.
We both found ourselves looking oddly at our hand. What was that? This warrants further investigation.
Log entry 84
I think I understand. It is difficult to control, but I can, in fact, bring parts of the Madam Commander to me, though I cannot quite get to her. When I do, it is as though neither of us are there for a brief moment.
I do not know what to do with this. I am not sure I trust myself, or her, enough to try to do something useful, like, say, walk through a solid object.
I should let it go. She has expressed concerns about being increasingly clumsy to the Chirurgeon. He almost took her off duty, which neither of us want.
She likes him. I know she is courting him. But there is also a distance there, and some sort of light confusion. I usually stay out of her relationships. I guess I am staying out of this one too, due to my situation.
I hope she figures this one out or something.
Log Entry 102
The Madam Commander is visiting a place known as Aloalo Island and we are doing research into arcanima and I refuse to finish this log entry I would like to note I have been very patiently making my observations and waiting for something to change for some time now but this is not what I am for I am supposed to be DOING THINGS
WE ARE VISITING THE HOME OF A PRECURSOR CIVILISATION TO ARCANIMA AND I AM USELESS
I VERY MUCH AM TIRED OF THIS AND WANT TO DO SOMETHING.
Log Entry 102 Addendum
I did not mean to put our foot through the dock and send us into the water. But, uh, I can shift parts of her even if I do not intend to, so… that is good to know, I guess?
Almost lost the codex on this one. I must be more careful.
Log Entry 107
New armaments. Replacement chakrams. The Savant thinks she is ready for more strenuous training. And something else as well. A gunblade. An ingenious device, it is a sword with energy capacitance reservoirs that can be triggered by a clever fuse mechanism. The charges can be varied to have different effects. Many of hers have ceruleum - apparently those are easy to find - and others have aether with arcanima or spellworks from other disciplines.
The Madam Archon and the Scout came by to help her with it. The Marine was present as well. Some of the Crystalficer’s work was referred to to help make components for the gunblade, as well as some of its charges. That she has been gone so long is now starting to be worrisome to the Madam Commander.
As is the absence of the Assistant, which I had wondered at myself, but the Madam Archon suggested that he was fine. I’m not sure I agree. The Assistant, as I recall, seemed to need to be regularly rescued or retrieved from some trouble or another. Good at artifact identification and proofing! Lousy at adventuring! That is why the Madam Archon worries after him.
Hmph. I’d tell her to go look for him anyroad, if I could.
Log Entry 107 addendum
After they were done in the workshop the Madam Commander and the Madam Archon went for a walk and I just can NOT with them anymore oh just DROWN me in the depths of the Azure they are so STUPID for one another!
As though it could not be more obvious!
I know, I know, I’m biased since they both made me and I’m connected to them both so of course I think they are both connected to each other but even though I am a FAMILIAR, I am just a construct, I can TELL. How can anyone not tell!? The feelings! THE DEPTHS OF THESE FEELINGS my thread always gets SATURATED when the Madam Commander lets herself ACTUALLY FEEL THINGS and I want it on the record that THESE FEELINGS ARE TOO MUCH I am going to die my essence is going to get blown out like a tiny mote of fire in front of the gale of THESE LOOKS THEY GIVE ONE ANOTHER and CAN YOU NOT SEE WHAT I SEE MADAM COMMANDER LOOK AT HER SHE IS PRACTICALLY GLOWING THE LIGHT OF THE AZURE IS SHINING AND ALL THE LIGHTS ARE ON HER PLEASE JUST DO SOMETHING.
this is not my place this is not my place fairies do not interfere with relationships were are assistants we plan meetings and execute strategies and keep our Scholars safe and we heal them and we heal their charges and none of this is my problem and why can nothing be simple or easy around here
Log 107 addendum addendum
OH I THINK SHE FINALLY NOTICED ALL HAIL
Log 107 addendum addendum addendum
Oh shit the Chrirugeon please do not think about the Chirurgeon no no no no no I can feel that guilt welling up shit okay alright I can get you through this I have a strategy for the Chirurgeon it will be alright.
I do not have a strategy for the Chirurgeon
I am suddenly extremely grateful I cannot get involved in any of this shit.
Alright. I trust the Madam Commander. She will handle this with poise, grace, and her usual excellence.
~*~
Mathye was in the company library, gathering the research materials he wanted to prepare for Gage’s next big idea of trying to expand company operations to new continents. Now that things had calmed down at home, it was time to explore, but before anyone could go anywhere, Mathye was going to personally see to it they were all medically prepared.
That meant workups for vaccines, and that meant research into diseases.
He grumbled, picking up another book to consider. He was going to be busy for a while. He heard the door to the library open, but paid it little mind.
“Mathye! What brings you here?”
He snapped his gaze over at the newcomer, taking a step back.
“Oh - Zoi!” he said.
“I, ah, I did not expect to see you down here,” Zoissette said, stammering as she spoke. “Up here? Over here. Right.”
Mathye felt more than a bit sheepish. He’d been so wrapped up in his work that he had not been checking in on Zoissette, not as a patient, but as a girlfriend.
He set his book down on the already considerable pile. Fully reviewing it could wait until later. "I saw on the roster you took on more missions. Are you feeling stronger, then?" he asked.
Zoissette’s face seemed unable to decide what to settle on. He ignored that. She’d been through a lot.
"Uhm. Yes. Probably. No, wait. Sorry. Yes. Nothing too strenuous I assure you, and never alone,” said Zoissette.
He smiled. "That's good.  And…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks for the legal paperwork getting me out. Though I just found out I'm stuck with community service."
“Of course. Literally the least I could do. Actually literally. It - well, I would rather handle that than the new counsel. At least for a little while longer. As for the community service, well, you -did- sedate a scientist, Mathye.”
"She was practically manic!" he protested. "I did a public service!"
"The public,” said Zoissette, her tone dry as Thanalan,  “apparently disagreed. Maybe ask next time."
"I couldn't help myself. It was instinct. Do you know how many morons I've had to send off to dreamland because they were just one egg away from completely cracking?"
"Dragoons are -different-, Mathye!"
"I've done it to Riven and the others too!"
"People you know are dif- wait. Lady Fortemps?"
"She's a Limsan arcanist.  Do you know how many of that lot like to test how long they can stay awake for and not eat while they're researching? I had to jump to Radz-at-Han the other day and drag her away from that bloody island they're all losing their minds over,” he continued, rapidly letting his frustrations at his friends out. "And no, I do not hit her upside the head. The Sleep spell does that for me. All bets are off on the others though."
He noticed a flicker of guilt cross her face at the mention of arcanists and their habits, and he stopped ranting long enough to take an inhale, go over, and give her a gentle peck on the cheek.
"However,” he said, somewhat calmer, “I will apologize - I've been an ass and not asked you to do anything."
Zoissette was mumbling to herself. “I mean, to be fair, someone trained in the Nymian arts should know the Expedient-class of stimulants…. oh!" she said, surprised at the peck.
Mathye looked over at his books, then back to Zoissette. "Do you want to get a late supper somewhere?  Everyone's busy so we wouldn't have eavesdroppers."
She seemed to be lost again, her eyebrows knitting themselves as she leaned close, her eyes studying his face intently, and nodding to herself. Mathye tilted his head at her.
“Is everything alright?”
“I have no idea!” she said cheerfully.
Even for her, that was unusual. Mathye found himself blinking at her, feeling a bit confused. “You… have no idea?”
Zoissette shook her head. "Sorry. That was - I have been doing that a lot lately. Just - uhm. What would you say…? Right. Not thinking before I speak. Dinner, you said?"
He nodded at her a bit. “Aye, dinner. “Maybe…” he could feel a tension in his gut, threatening to pull his courage down before he could fully muster it. He fought past it, reaching out to take one of Zoissette’s hands and holding it gently between his own. “Could catch a late theater showing somewhere…”
She was still looking at him, quizzically. Or perhaps thoughtfully. She closed one eye, and he watched as the other danced the direction of its gaze around the room. And then she reached out towards his face.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
He let go of her hand in surprise.
“Sorry. If that was too forward, slap me,” he replied.
Zoissette took a step back. “What? No! I am asking if I am being too forward. I - I do not slap people, Mathye!”
A thoughtful look crossed her face. “I mean, unless you wanted me to.”
He shook his head. This conversation was getting increasingly perplexing. “You’re not being forward. If anything - you seem nervous. Do you just want to eat in? I can get takeout.”
“Takeout might be nice. Am I nervous?”
“I have never seen one eyeball dance around the room while the other eye’s shut.”
At that, she closed the other eye, and he watched as she repeated her performance from earlier, just with the opposite eyes.
“Oh. Maybe I am nervous,” she said.
Now Mathye was concerned.
"…What's wrong?” he asked. “Did something happen today? Or on a mission?"
She shook her head again. "No, nothing like that. I just - here. I want to try something."
He blinked at her. “Okay.”
"Just  - pull back if this is too much - or slap me, I guess, if that is where we are at. Okay? You ready?"
Mathye took a deep breath in, having no idea what she could possibly have in mind. But, well.
“Ready,” he said.
Zoissette’s hands were mere ilms from his face. He watched as she balled them up into fists, biting her lower lip, and glancing off to either side. He tensed, wondering if this was how he was going to get punched. But then, slowly, carefully, as though he was made of delicate glass, she took his face into her hands, warm fingers just gently touching his skin. And then she leaned in, and gave him a kiss. It was as pleasant as it was unexpected, her lips pressing in, a deeper kiss than he could have possibly guessed at.
He startled, but did not pull away, and instead fought to remain steady. It took long seconds for him to respond as his brain caught up to the current reality, but he did respond, returning the kiss as sweetly as he knew how. He was rusty at this sort of thing, but despite that, he put his feeling into it, even as he kept his hands to himself. A true gentleman for a true lady.
They stayed there for some time, before Zoissette pulled back, keeping his face held gently in her hands. She was doing that thing again with her eyes, gaze darting all over as she seemed to be trying to memorize every little detail of his face, a frown creasing her forehead.
Mathye just blinked at her, unsure of where to take things next.
Her frown deepened, and she seemed to perhaps be searching for something. And not finding it.
Mathye contented himself with just watching and waiting.
Finally, however, she let go of his face. As she did so, she looked up to the ceiling, and made a frustrated noise.
He felt tension rising up within him. “What’s wrong?”
"Me, as usual,” she said. “Halone, I hope you are not watching just now."
He looked at her quizzically as she continued, her face shifting rapidly through expressions as she fretted her hands.
"I do not know how to explain. Or maybe I do and I do not want to. There was… nothing there. It was warm. You are nice. There is supposed to be - what? Sparks and flash, levin and flesh and warmth and - “
Mathye reached out and took her hands in his again. “Zoissette."  He said, gently, but firmly.
Zoissette made a frustrated noise, but she looked at him again. Her facial expressions calmed down, seeming to settle into something that may have been a smile if it had stopped at some point. Instead she overshot into some kind of pained rictus expression, teeth all exposed and eyes too wide to be comfortable.
He was going to try to say something comforting, but “what the fuck” is what came out instead at that particular display.
Her face fell, and she began to fret her hands around his. He tried to recover.
“Zoi? What is it?” he said, pulling his hands free and lifting one to her cheek.
She stilled. And when she spoke next, her voice was quiet, and he had to strain to hear.
"I think I -want- to love you,” she said. “I think I -might- love someone else.”
He felt his heart plummet, and his mind scattered as his stomach grew cold.
“I think I have no idea what love actually is though,” she said. “And I think I am somewhat past pattern at trying and failing at it. And - and I want to say you deserve better.“
There was a heat building in her voice. Anger. She seemed to be talking to herself, but Mathye was not sure he was still listening, not really. He suddenly felt distant. Away. “But that makes it seem like it is your fault. The fault is mine. I know not where. I think I wanted our relationship to work. Love grows where the work happens, right? So why is it not working."
He blinked. He blinked, again. Trying to get some kind of bearing on the situation.
“Wait. What?” he said, just barely controlling his voice.
“I am not making sense, am I?” said Zoissette. “I can tell.”
He swallowed down his feelings. Just for a moment. He needed to make sure he was certain of this moment. "You said you might… love someone else."
She tilted her head at him, and looked upwards again, frowning, thinking.
"Yes? Maybe?” she said. “I… think so? Fury forfend, it has never -happened- before."
He felt his whole world go still, and he fell quiet. From a million malms away, he could hear her voice.
"…you still want to get takeout?" she was asking.
He inhaled. Just a little bit of life. Just enough to get him through the next minute or so. He shook his head at her, gently taking her hands.
“No takeout,” he said. “Don’t worry about me… or us, anymore. This other person. Do they make you happy?”
Just the next minute or so.
And then, truth. He could see it, plain on her face. A small, little smile dancing across it before she had time to shake her head and take a palm to wipe it away, shaking it off, but it was there.
"Yes, but that hardly seems relevant,” she said. “No, what am I saying, that is very relevant. No, what am I - how do you people DO this."
He had to let go. Or else he was going to drag them both down. He had to let go.
"It's fine, Zoissette.  You don't have to see me anymore,” he said.
Zoissette pouted. A pitiable display. If only…
His voice was quiet. Too quiet, as he put a smile on his face. "Go be happy with that other person."
He had to let go. And so, squeezing her hands one last time, he did, releasing her hands even as he released his heart. He looked at her face just long enough to see her studying him again, perplexed.
Well, that was no problem of his anymore. He turned, going back to his book pile. He would need to take them with him.
"…I do not know if the feeling is reciprocated,” she said from behind him.
"Haven't you spent enough of your life forcing yourself to do things?" he said. Keeping his voice quiet kept any venom out of it, kept it from being a jab. He would be kind, at this juncture. It was all he had for her now. “I would suggest you go and find out.”
He put some few books back.
“…Mathye?”
He did not turn. “Yes?”
"…you deserve the world. I wish I - I wish I might have been the one to give it to you. I … am going to link Riven and ask her to bring you some food."
The rest of the books would come with him, then. “No need to do that. I'm leaving,” he said, still quiet, still small. "There's some more research I need to pick up by the Conjurer's Guild."
"Well… if you say so,” she said. Her voice was no louder than his.  “… good night, Mathye."
Mathye swept a hand up to put his bangs in his face. There was no need for her to see him. He was not certain he could face her.
“Good night, Zoissette,” he said, taking his books and sweeping past her, out of the library, and into the rest of his life. As he left, he felt himself turn to ice inside.
~*~
Log Entry 112
Oh. Oh, Madam Commander, no.
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Fuck it. V.F.D but make it Magical
So, I've made some posts where I make AUs that kick V.F.D's cult levels up to 11, but woe is you I thought about something for too long again.
The Mythological Creatures AU
V.F.D is a secret organization where nonhumans hide in plain sight using magic and other methods to pass themselves off as humans.
The Eye Tattoo is now a magical seal used to help them hide their true forms. This can either be achieved through an actual mark on the skin or through a pendant/trinket worn somewhere on the body. Humans are aware of the existence of nonhumans, but typically fear them.
(Gonna split this in two Sugar Bowl Gen and Unfortunate Gen)
Sugar Bowl Gen:
Olaf: Changeling/Shapeshifter (His disguises are still see-through because something always looks viscerally wrong about him. Very Uncanny Valley)
Olaf’s Troupe:
Bald Man With Warts – Human (Not Everyone is Nonhuman)
Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender (Orlando) – Human (Not Everyone is Nonhuman)
The White-Faced Women – Ghosts (Haunted Olaf’s Theater, Now haunting Olaf until they leave in-story)
Fernald – Gillman (Think Creature From The Black Lagoon because I’ll get rid of the fishhooks joke over my dead body)
The Snicket Siblings: Algea (Often mistaken for angels due to their vulture wings, these are creatures that are the physical personification of sorrow.)
Beatrice: Angel (Fallen, taking a bit of inspiration from Dante’s Inferno. Feels thematically appropriate)
Bertrand: Sirin (Often mistaken for angels due to their owl wings, these are creatures that are the physical personification of joy)
Monty: Naga (Because of course I’m gonna make snake uncle a snake!)
Josephine: Banshee (Think of the fact that her anxiety is heightened because she can’t tell if her screams are because she’s scared or because someone’s going to die, and it could be her this time. Like the scream that happened the day Ike died)
Georgina Orwell: Samodiva (A type of fairy known for hypnotizing men and driving them insane)
Sir: Smoke/Smog Monster (Born from the lumbermill’s smoke production. His cigars help him keep a physical form)
Charles: Warlock (Human born with magical ability and connection. Magically bound to Sir)
(The Lumbermill Workers are all humans, which makes them easier to control and manipulate)
Esme: Pixie (Passes herself off as a regular fairy to hide her true nature)
Jerome: Satyr (No specific reason, but Satyr’s are known for being docile and made a fool of in theatrical productions if you want to stretch)
Hector: Human (Not everyone can be nonhuman. I like to think nonhumans are actually not allowed in the Village of Foul Devotees unless they are a type of bird creature. So, if he were a nonhuman, Hector would be a Harpy. Alternatively, he is a Harpy, but he’s hiding his true form like V.F.D associates do to avoid persecution)
Olivia Caliban (Miranda Caliban by Extension): Oracle (Human born with magical abilities and the gift of prophecy. Ishmael often dismisses Miranda’s prophecies. Kind of a Cassandra situation)
Captain Widdershins: Tannin (Sea Serpent, think a Water Naga. Some sources refer to this creature as “The Whale” because they are sometimes presented with the head of a boar and the body of the whale. It’s a Moby Dick reference!)
The Denouement Triplets: Shadow Creatures (They morph and move through shadows, sometimes even blending together. This makes it even harder to tell Ernest and Frank apart, and nearly impossible to find Dewey. They can morph into shadows to prevent harm to their physical form… If they’re fast enough.)
Ishmael: Poltergeist (A malevolent spirit haunting the island and its residents. Keeps his physical form by stealing the life force and free will of those who allow him to. His powers do not work on the unwilling.)
(Olaf’s Mentors are both Demons.)
(Mr. Poe and family are humans)
I'm open for suggestions for any characters I missed.
Like, what was Ike before he died?
Gustav? Sally? R?
How about our Netflix Originals? I'd love your opinions on Jacqueline, Larry, and Babs.
See you in Part Two to discuss the kids!
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sunshinevanfleet · 2 years ago
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the dress - s. kiszka
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pairing: sam x reader
a/n: heyo! i have been so absent here lately i'm sorry!! i have a lot going on with work and have been dealing with the absolute worst writers' block. it took me forever to write this because my brain is just?!?! not working lol. i have like 0 inspiration. anyways, i'm here to feed the sammy girls and decided to write this. it's unedited so if there are any mistakes i'm sorry! ok love u<3
genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
word count: 2.9k
summary: the reader decides to wear sam's favorite sundress around the house. he can't resist the temptation.
warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (m + f receiving), riding, etc.
A gentle breeze cooled your skin, the late afternoon sun finally beginning to sink behind the horizon. Your bare feet swished through the long grass of your backyard, the blades tickling your ankles as you padded back towards the house. There was a basket of flowers perched in your arm, picked precariously in order to adorn the center of your kitchen table. You were so excited– you and Sam had finally bought your own place–a house, at that–and you were spending every second you could perfecting each detail inside. These wildflowers, straight from the field behind your house, were going to be the perfect centerpiece to your antique kitchen table. 
Beads of sweat pooled on the nape of your neck and your shoulders; you spent the entire day outside, first planting your very own garden, then hanging fairy lights and curtains around the patio, organizing the furniture, and finally picking the flowers. While Sam was at the studio, you forced yourself to stay busy. You only had so many days left off of work, and you wanted to get each tiny detail right while you had the chance. Luckily, Sam was privy to your vision. When he was home, he was your special helper, allowing you to boss him around and make your dreams come true.
You smiled at the thought; he was being such a good sport. You reminded yourself to thank him for everything. His patience, his help, and most of all his willingness to make this place your forever home, at any cost. 
“Honey, I’m home,” his voice rang from the back porch, as if on cue, and your smile widened. You’d been waiting for his return all day; you missed spending every second of the day with him. Admittedly, you were a bit grouchy whenever he announced to you a few days before that he would have to return to the studio. The band was working on big things, and you knew they needed him. You tried your hardest not to pout at the fact that you had to share him. 
“Hi,” you greeted, dropping your fresh flowers on the porch as you approached him. You snaked your arms around his neck, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. “Missed you.”
“I missed you,” he mumbled against your lips. One of his hands snaked down your waist, over the curve of your ass, and gave it a firm squeeze. The fabric of your dress bunched up in his hand, and you giggled into the kiss.
“Watch yourself, Sammy,” you said, swatting his hand as you pulled away. “I’ve got interior design on the mind right now.”
He laughed, padding back into the house behind you as you brought your spoils inside. “I’ve got other things on my mind,” he mumbled, pressing against you from behind. He pinned your hips against the kitchen table with his breath ghosting over your neck. One of his hands trailed up your arm, fingertips brushing the skin gently before he slipped the tiny strap of your dress down over your shoulder. His calloused fingertips trailed over the sensitive skin of your clavicle, tracing down until it ghosted over your hardened nipple through the material of the dress.
A shaky breath came from your lips, and you pressed back against him. Your core throbbed as you felt his hard bulge pressing against you from behind.
“What’s got you all worked up?” you mused, breathless. Your eyes were closed, taking in the feeling of his warm body melding against yours. He held you in his strong arms, one hand pressed against your stomach and the other caressing your clothed nipple in tiny circles. A shiver trickled down your spine. 
You felt his smile against your neck, his teeth dragging against your skin gently. “It’s this dress,” he grasped the fabric, bunching it in his hand and slowly pulling it up. Goosebumps prickled your skin as he lifted the hem, exposing your bare legs inch by inch. “My favorite dress…”
“Can you let me finish what I’m doing, at least?” you asked, unable to mask the amusement in your tone. 
“I’m not stopping you,” he said innocently. 
“No, but you’re distracting me,” you gasped as he hiked the dress completely up. He placed a hand on your lower back, and pushed you forward over the table.
His other hand trailed over your bare ass, kneading the skin. “No panties?” You felt his breath fan over your core as he spoke, and you tensed. Your center clenched around nothing, and a smug chuckle tumbled from his lips. 
“Sammy–”
“Dirty girl,” he said. One finger dipped through your folds, spreading your juices around. He was taking his time, making your body tense as he barely touched you. “You’ve been waiting for me to come home and fill you up all day, haven’t you, pretty?”
You bit down on your lip, nodding at his words. It had been in the back of your mind all day; you knew he loved seeing you in sundresses, especially the little white and pink floral number you had on today. It was his favorite, especially paired with no undergarments. It drove him wild. 
“Words, please,” he mused, pushing a finger inside of you.
“Ah,” you squeaked, “yes, I’ve been waiting for you all day, Sammy.”
“There’s my good girl.” He curled his finger inside of you, just barely brushing against your sweet spot. You braced your hands against the table, wishing you had something to hold onto, something other than your precious table to dig your fingernails into. Strangled breaths left your lips as he touched you with impossible patience.
He already had you mewling and moaning softly with pleasure, your body tensed over the table. His fingers knew just how to work your body, all of the spots that made you cry out and see stars. But, he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. Where was the fun in giving you exactly what you wanted? His fingers were soon slipping out of you, strings of your arousal lingering on his hand as he pulled away. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quick to make you whine in pleasure. His mouth replaced his fingers, tongue delving into your pussy. He licked into you, his tongue dragging through your folds in long, slow strokes. Obscene sounds emerged from you, ringing through the empty house. One of his thumbs found your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves as he worked you towards your release.
The metaphorical coil in your stomach began to tighten, your mind gone blank from everything except the feeling of him devouring you from behind. Your thighs trembled, his free hand having come down to hold your legs open for him. Ecstasy clouded your vision, the intensity of his tongue fucking you only growing stronger by the second.
“Sammy, I’m gonna cum– fuck, it’s so good…” you trailed, unable to form another word as your vision began to glaze over. Heat bloomed throughout your entire body, your limbs seeming to vibrate with the pleasure bursting between your legs. You were unable to move, a willing victim to the waves of bliss crashing over you, drowning all of your senses. Your throat was going hoarse with the cries of his name, your walls clenching around his tongue as he guided you through your orgasm. Another layer of sweat shimmered on your skin as he finally pulled away, hooking an arm around your stomach to turn you around.
He kissed you, his mouth and chin still coated in your release. You moaned at the taste of yourself, slightly tangy on your tongue. He grasped your face, his tongue delving in between your parted lips. You pressed yourself closer to him, grinding your center against his clothed bulge. He groaned against your lips, finally pulling away and meeting your glassy eyes.
“Want me to fill you up, sweet girl?” he asked, grinning. “So eager… You can’t get enough of me, can you?”
“Never,” you replied. You leaned in again, pressing your lips together desperately. You nipped at his bottom lip, swollen as you worked your mouths together for another second. Your chests heaved together, the both of you panting and worked up. “I need you,” you sighed as you finally parted, your foreheads touching.
“You can have me,” he said, “Take what you need, baby.”
Swiftly, you pushed one of the chairs away from the table. He took the hint, taking a seat with his legs spread wide. His bulge strained painfully against the thin fabric of his shorts, the outline of it making your mouth water as you admired him. You kneeled before him, hands trailing up his thighs, massaging the skin gently. His cock twitched in his shorts, a wet spot blooming from the tip and staining the fabric. A mischievous grin found your face. You pressed your lips against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, kissing and biting gently.
“God, you look so pretty on your knees,” he muttered, eyes following your every movement as you teased him. You smiled up at him, meeting his gaze through your lashes as you gathered saliva in your mouth and spit into your hand. You pushed your hand beneath the waistband of his shorts, and closed your fist around his length. A strangled moan tore from his lips as you stroked him with the faintest pressure. He throbbed in your grip, hips stuttering at your touch as you barely squeezed the tip of his cock in your hand.
“Fuck, Y/N, please,” he groaned. His dark eyes were hooded as he stared down at you. His lip was caught between his teeth, brows furrowed in an expression that was so beautiful and desperate that your walls clenched around nothing. The tiny whimpers falling from his lips were music to your ears, making your neck and ears flush hot as you watched him melt at your touch.
“Please?” you looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and his eyes rolled back in his head at the sight of it. 
He groaned, hips rolling up into your touch. His thighs trembled under your hand, holding them still. You tightened your grip around him. Slowly, you dragged your fist up from the base of his cock to the head, your thumb massaging the ridge just below the tip. An unrestrained moan burst from his chest, high-pitched and mouthwatering. 
“My poor Sammy,” you soothed, your free hand rubbing his thigh gently. “Can’t find the words, can you?” His cheeks flushed pink at your teasing, one hand running through his hair whilst he stared at you expectantly. He didn’t dare look away, little pants coming from his parted lips. Sweat beaded on his forehead. 
You batted your lashes at him as you leaned up, perched prettily on your knees. You trailed your hand up from his thigh to the waistband of his shorts. A second later, they were off, flung to some forgotten corner across the room. His cock sprung up against his stomach, the slick sight of it making your head spin. The tip was an angry shade of red, twitching as you teased it with your fingertips. Sam’s hips jerked, and his hands gripped the sides of the chair so hard that his knuckles had gone white.
“So eager for me, hmm?” you mused, blinking up at him.
He nodded, swallowing hard as he followed your eyes. Gently, your tongue darted out, tiny kitten licks against the head of his cock. He breathed sharply, the muscles in his legs clenching beneath your hands. “You’re torturing me, baby,” he groaned, every fiber in his being struggling not to grab you by the hair and fuck your face. Not that you would have minded.
You pouted, wrinkling your brow as you looked up at him. “I thought you liked it when I did this?” you asked, feigning innocence as you wrapped your lips around the swollen head of his cock. You swirled your tongue, the salty taste of him blooming in your mouth. 
“Fuck–” his voice was choked by the sound of his own moaning, ringing so needily through your big, empty house. “Fuck, can I touch you, please?”
You nodded, mouth bobbing around him as you did so. Without hesitation, one of his large hands gathered your hair into his fist, gently guiding your mouth as you sucked him off. A hum rumbled from your throat. The vibrations sent a tremor through his lower body, his hips rocking into your mouth enough for his cock to brush the back of your throat. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pushed down onto him, taking him even further in your mouth.
“Oh, you look so pretty, sweet girl,” he groaned, now rolling his hips into your mouth freely. He reached down to brush the tears off of your cheeks, loving the sight of you taking him so well in your mouth. He guided your pace on his cock, fingers cupping your cheek. Your hands held onto his thighs, nails pressing into the skin as he quickened your pace. 
He was close, you could tell by the higher pitch of his moans and the trembling in the muscles of his lower body. At that indication, you swirled your tongue more aggressively. His cock throbbed in your mouth and he hissed, the fingers tangled in your hair pulling you away. Strings of saliva dripped over your mouth and chin as you pulled away, mixing with the tears that were streaming down your face.
“As much as I want to cum on this pretty face, princess,” he ran a thumb over the mess on your swollen lips, “I need you to ride me in this dress…”
You grinned, licking some of the mess off of your lips as you stood. You spread your legs, straddling him in the chair. Arousal slicked your inner thighs, making a mess of the both of you as you reached down to position his cock at your entrance. He breathed sharply through his nostrils as you brushed the head between your folds, the heat driving him mad. A low sigh broke from your mouth as you sank down onto him, throwing your head back.
“God, you’re fucking tight–” Sam hissed. His hands brushed up your thighs, bunching your skirt up over your hips as he stared at himself entering you. His eyes followed the slick of your pussy sliding up and down on his cock, all of your juices pooling on his thighs. “Look at that pretty pussy taking me so well,” he sighed, lips parted as he panted.
You followed his gaze, your walls fluttering around him at the lewd sight. His fingertips dug into the skin of your hips as he helped to guide you, your pace steady as you fucked him. Already sensitive, his cock stretched your walls open, brushing your sweet spot unrelentingly. You rolled your hips against him, relishing in the feeling of him dragging against your insides. Pleasure tightened the muscles of your stomach, to the point where you were almost sore. 
“I’m- I’m gonna cum–” you managed to stutter out, leaning forward to press your lips against his gently. He smiled against you, nodding as he pulled you closer to him. He was doing all of the work at this point, his strong grasp helping you lift off of him and sink back down over and over again. 
“Go ahead, sweet girl,” he coaxed, still holding your hips. “Make a mess for me, baby. All over my cock.”
A second wind seemed to find you, and you rocked desperately against him. You chased your orgasm, that delicious high washing over you in intense waves. Your legs cramped, but you refused to stop. His cockhead brushed against your sweet spot over and over, your head swimming as you continued your ministrations. His hunger for you mirrored your own, and you felt his hips twitching as his release washed over him. The feeling of his release spreading inside of you sent you over the edge, your mind tumbling into bliss as you rolled against him without abandon.
“Ah, fuck, baby–” his voice was muffled, shrouded by the ecstasy overtaking your senses. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good, milking my cock like that…”
A sound, half-moan, half-scream tore its way out of your throat as you reached the peak of your high. Your eyes rolled back in your head, barely aware of the feeling of him kissing and biting your chest, his hips slowly meeting yours as you rode out your climax. Your entire body ached as you came back down, sweating as you slumped against him in the chair.
“You okay?” He placed a kiss against your temple, his voice soft.
You nodded, one hand braced on his shoulder. “Got a cramp,” you laughed, trying to stretch your legs as you shifted off of him. Your body ached; you sighed at the feeling of his hand running up and down your back, caressing the skin gently. 
“Let’s go get cleaned up,” he said, helping you to your feet. Your legs shook as you balanced your weight, adjusting your dress. “Then, I’ll make you dinner.”
Your eyes lit up, a smile blooming over your face. “Maybe I should wear this more often,” you joked, already headed down the hall for your shower.
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epraim1992 · 2 months ago
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Imu's Power
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Due to their voice sounding masculine and feminine in the anime, I have a theory that Imu is in One Piece terminology a woman at heart.
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Just like Kikunojo from the Wano Arc.
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I think Kiku is a precursor for Imu.
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I think Imu was born from a Kuja mother because of their connection to Nefertari D. Lili. There is speculation that Lili is connected to Amazon Lily because it shares her name.
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I think it will be significant because for some mysterious reason Kuja only birth female children. I think Imu is the exception because of being trans.
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The Kuja stand out to me because most if not all of their warriors use haki. And when Smoker fought Hancock he called it the Kuja Haki which makes it seem like it is synonymous with them.
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I think this means they are natural born haki users similar to Aisa being born with Mantra. And maybe even shared how to use it with the rest of the world.
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I think the reason they outlaw men and don't giver birth to them is that male Kuja are born with exceptionally strong Haki making them potentially dangerous.
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Oda indroduced sandworms into the story, which are famously from Dune. In that story the Bene Gesserit is female organization trying to birth a male Bene Gesserit who would be a super being.
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In Dune the could control their biology and use that to determine the sex of their children. There is a similar ability in One Piece called Semei Kikan but this is probably a reach.
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If Lili has some connection to Amazon Lily and if my theory is right about Imu it makes me wonder if they have a connection to Momoiro Island.
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Ivankov consider okama to have transcended gender and thinks of them as the new humans. This could tie back to Imu since they have the voice of a man and woman in the anime.
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It was Ivankov who theorized that Imu could be Nerona Imu which I think could be a small hint due to Ivankov being an okama.
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It seems like Imu is a mythical Zoan user.
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I think his Devil Fruit could be the Hito Hito no Mi. Model: Vearth and will look like the statue on Skypiea.
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It was revealed that the Fairy Vearth was the Moon which has has lot of significance in the story.
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Nika who is Imu's enemy is called the Sun God it makes me wonder if Vearth is considered the Sea Devil that was mentioned by Shanks.
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The Sun God was offhandedly mentioned in a flashback similar to the Sea Devil so it could become relevant in the future.
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If Imu is a Zoan user I wonder if they got taken over by their power. Shaka did reveal that it's the usual case with Awakened Zoans.
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Imu seemingly has the ability to bestow and take away immortality/life. Saturn was over two hundred years old and his life was stripped away by Imu.
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To me it seems like it could be the reverse of Hawkins ability. He can infuse his body with the spirits of others to avoid damage. It seems like Imu can infuse their spirit in others to make them immortal.
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Imu could have magic powers as well. We know the Gorosei are able to use magic pentagrams for summoning.
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Imu's distorted voice was reminiscent to me to Hawkins Straw Man. I think it's possible that Imu is in command of all the power systems in One Piece.
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darewolfcreates · 20 days ago
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run Run RUN
*lays on my stomach and kicks my feet* CMYK mono printing is fun :]
Bit of an explanation here- we had a printing assignment to put a twist on a fairy tale. I picked that one fairy tale where some guy proposes to some woman but then the woman gets turned into a bore and is killed by her betrothed and the cook finds her ring in the bore's stomach and proposes to his own love with it. IDK what it was called and I cant find it again but it may have been an Irish or a Norse folk tale- I remember having my mother read it to me in highschool when me and my sibling somehow managed to convince her to start reading us bedtime stories again. If anyone knows what I'm talking about please tell me its name. I cant find it in any of my books or online.
so the twist-
I had this one dream around the time of highschoolish that had some parallel themes that poped up in the story of the bore. So ill tell that dream to you now.
There was a realm that lived alongside our world. Like how some worlds live in our shadows, this one lived in our light. I could enter by stepping forward into the sun with my eyes closed. And when I was a child I was discovered by an organization in this realm. I was thought to be human but when I was stressed I would start to change, these changes allowed me to fly. It was discovered that I was a creature from a whole other dimension. A “Survivor”, if a Survivor’s life was threatened they would gain more and more traits that would allow them to survive even the worst apocalypse. If a survivor was pregnant while in their full survivor form for longer than a certain period of time, the baby instead of developing, would be sent to another dimension and go into the womb of something that could carry them. The child would develop with the characteristics of the species carrying them. The one who discovered me worked as an investigator for a crimes division and I had fun helping him solve his cases due to my ability to essentially: not die. Unfortunately due to my proximity with crime I was discovered by an individual who took advantage of the fact that I was not from this dimension. While there were many creatures from other dimensions I was the only Survivor that had ever existed in this one or was known by anyone who had ever lived in this dimension. Because of this there were no laws on my species about slavery or ownership. The individual in the dream ran a freak show circus of sorts and bound my soul to them so that they owned me. I didn't like that so I just left the realm, ran away and never went back. Years later I was an adult and I ended up being selected as the “average joe” in a princess-off composition in the realm of light. They wanted one randomly selected individual to take part so there could be a comparison to judge the princesses off of. It was a bit stressful since I didn't know what was happening most of the time but there was a race at one point and I realized I could just fly, there were no rules saying I couldn’t, so I ended up winning that part. At the end of the day I was going to go home but my brother wanted to come see me when I told him about the composition and he got lost in the train system. I ended up spending a lot of time out in the open tracking him down and at one point when combing through train cars I passed by the man who owned my soul. I ended up finding my brother and I took him home immediately, but the damage was done. The man followed me and the rest of the long dream consisted of me running, and running, and running, and slowly losing myself as I changed more and more. I couldn't stop. Everytime I did he would catch me and with every time it was harder to escape. So I had to just keep running. My eyes went black and my nails turned into dark claws. The dark black fur crawled up my arms and over my body. My eyes turned to bright purple and my hands turned into knifed hooves, my teeth turned into long needles, I grew a long tail, and my vision went black. I could no longer see normally but instead I could see souls. An adaptation that allowed me to avoid all forms of sentient life and I ran on and on and on. I had no more thought about my life that I had lived, I had no more thoughts about rest, or my family, or anything other than my need to RUN.
So basically the parallels were the transformation and the being hunted. But also I'm loosely twisting the "belonging" to someone being the hunter as well. I mashed these two stories together to make something new. The prints mostly just retold the dream but instead of the continual running I was subjected to the story ends like the one with the bore, an arrow delivering a final blow. The golden ring in the bore's belly became the shinning light where the arrow struck in the last piece.
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eatmangoesnekkid · 10 months ago
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The Kill: To Come Fully Alive in Your Female Body is to Know How to Give Death Like a Country Woman Who Knows How to Process Her Home-Grown, Organically-Raised Chickens When It's Time
How I Reprogram My Cells With New Narratives Using My Imagination and After Care (My Gift to Readers On Tumblr)
I'm almost 48 years old and every month my body releases a healthy beautiful egg because it is still trying to have a big chunky baby.
I'm not peri-menopausal yet but will be using this year to reprogram my tissues with new narratives around menopause beyond the dehydrating stories I can feel trapped in my female line. The keycode here is that it takes time so you must begin now....early.
I'm deeply a strategic and proactive woman in all my fairy playfulness and do not dissociate from any cycle of my body or womanhood in any way. Instead I spend time reprogramming my cells and lovingly planting new narratives into my body, in this case, around the experience of menopause. No doctor will prescribe pills or other substances for my natural female cycles that I have already falling in love with. The keycode here is that your love for the process is essential.
I find comfort in the present moment and I also find comfort in imagining and projecting into the future. I do not fear menopause. I do not hold common expectations that it will be difficult or dry out my pussy or my libido will fall as the culture teaches. I am clear that I won't need hormonal medication. I consciously use my energy to envision myself in the details of what I desire in life as a radiant, flexible, wet, high libido, sassy, symptom-free menopausal woman. But I don't just envision, I feel the emotions of being radiant, flexible, wet, etc. OUR EMOTIONS CONNECT US INTO THE UNIVERSE.
I am often lightyears ahead of what we call "time." Ancient-future. I am planting cosmic seeds now BEFORE my menopause years and continue to take action in the desired direction through staying active and continuing to work on my flexibility and inner beauty—forgiving, clearing, letting go, and dreaming. “Yoh, the fuck you mean ‘wait and see, ’” I thought to myself after a woman waiting in line with me at the airport said that menopause will be the worst time of my life. I responded back in the gentlest manner, " Ma'am, my menopause will not be difficult and I will not feel hot nor lose my high libido.” Haha I said that to her and continued, “I'm not an average woman and anm already programming my future menopausal years in which I rest well at night and wake up aroused for the day. I appreciate your well-intentioned words but they do not apply to me nor do I consent to that experience. I’m such a weird one—not regular. Never been.” The keycode here is that you must be willing to cut people off at the neck who subtly lead life from a victimized position about their own bodies and attempt to place that same energy onto you, even with well-meaning intentions. She was a lovely woman otherwise —and I knew she meant well but I also knew that she giving me feedback on what lives deep in my body, in the hidden and unconscious. I can’t see it but I felt it in our interaction. Therefore I wasn’t really metaphorically cutting HER neck off. I was starting the journey of severing the part of my female lineage that feels the same way as she does. I will repeat this process over and over again in my imagination, then begin the journey of self-soothing my tissues and nervous system with lots of intentional massage, juicing, and rest. What we give death to is still a valuable part that our psyches will miss interacting with, a part that up to now has made us feel safe and held. Lots of self-soothing and letting our tissues know that we will be okay without this aspect of self are essential after care.
I always ask the earth for support and speak my desires into the orange trees as I'm picking fruit, walking through a park, or hiking. The keycode here is that you need initiate support from another divine authority, whether nature, God, your ancestors, etc.
I permit myself to see my future menopausal self being juicy and abundant.
I have always lived my life this way--often 2-3 steps ahead of the game, laughing and playing a lot along the way.
Too many women and other female bodied people are stuck and trapped by the trauma they have programmed to believe about themselves (their cells). It's important that you remember who you are--a magical woman and experience this reality lightheartedly, playfully, and magically accordingly. The keycode here is that your playfulness and lightheartedness help to release any resistances. They become your fuel and battery propelling you forward into your next level or landing you directly into a quantum leap.
Maybe you aren’t concerned about menopause yet but you can apply these key codes to any other aspects of your life. --India Ame'ye, Author
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