#this does not include my thoughts on the matter it’s just an observation

[didnt-hear-cold-as-you-live]

This isn’t a take about the discourse but more a take on the takes and that is: the fuckass director of that Miss Americana documentary pivoted the focus of the documentary to be political on her own, based on what she observed. Taylor said in interviews she didn’t know what the outcome was going to be. We know it was originally supposed to be a documentary about the fans, and that switch, made exclusively by that director without Taylor’s input, actually turned out to, in the long game, be the worst decision for Taylor’s career anyone has ever made.

[thelonelynindroid]

Trobed I drew through genuine tears while i had a 24 hr migraine and my good old pal dys for ya 👍

[wordsmithic]

unpopular opinion but with the new tide of Greek mythology stories and retellings, Greek Cultural Sensitivity Readings are absolutely necessary. We are in 2024, with thousands of fics and retellings out there!! How is this not a thing yet?? There's vast improvement one can achieve by working professionally on their text with a Greek. I've seen it so many times!!

Also, duh, I'm offering the service BUT I want you to know that the situation with the inaccuracies of SERIOUS works is so dire that initially I didn't even do it for money. As a writer I just wanted to... fix things, to set a new standard for writers and the industry that sells us the most heavily Americanized pop-culture material and passes it as "authentic vibes of Greek mythology". (And of course there were writers who wanted to do right by their story and they had reached out to me. So kudos to them as well!)

Okay, but why does Cultural Sensitivity Reading make a vast difference and it's not just smoke and mirrors?

As a Greek, I am tired of well-meaning writers and authors butchering very basic elements of my culture. It's not their fault exactly, since they were raised in another culture with a different perspective. And nobody clued them in on how different Greek culture is from theirs, so writers sometimes assume that their culture is the default and they project that into ancient Greece. (Even published professionals like Madeline Miller have written "UK or US in antiquity" (with a very colonialist flavor) instead of writing "Ancient Greece". (Looking at you, Circe!)

Even writers who researched a lot before coming to me still had a lot of misinformation or wrong information in their text, easily verifiable by the average Greek. Again, not their fault. They can only access certain information, which does not include Greek scholarly work and scientific articles that DO offer valuable context.

Translation, accuracy, and meaning: If you ever wondered what a word means or how to pronounce it, here's your chance! There are Greeks like me who are knowledgeable and have a keen interest in antiquity and they will be able to read and compare ancient texts, and dive deeper into the work of Greek scholars regarding those texts.

If you want to create new words, you can do that as well! (It doesn't always work, but we can try. Greek is a really rich language and has a word about everything) If you use existing words, I can help you separate reality from fantasy in the context of your story.

(Do not assume we Greeks are ignorant of our heritage, or that we don't know how to research! Our archaeology sector is huge and archaeological museums are closer to most of us than your local Target is to you)

I guarantee there are things you never thought about Greece and the Mediterranean - from the ancient to the modern era. Sprinkling elements like phrases, types of interactions, customs, songs, instruments, dances, etc , into your text will make your text absolutely rich in culture.

Names matter!!! The genders of the names matter, diminutives matter (If I see one more "Perse" for Persephone I will claw my eyes out along with a few thousand Greeks), naming traditions matter!!! In many cases you should not even use a diminutive!!

You will be able to write about a foreign culture easily! Because of the continuity of Greek culture, you can even write a few more recent Greek elements to fill in the gaps. I can make sure they are not mismatched, and they will complement your ancient setting. I have observed a few things I didn't know we had since antiquity, but they make sense because our land has certain characteristics.

Non-Greek writers often miss the whole context of Greek culture! Do you know how Greek respect towards deities and parents looks like? What tones we use when we talk to our elders? When to use honorific plural - if your setting is more modernized?

Oh, and please let's avoid caricatures when describing Greeks?? (even fantasy Greeks) There can be heavy exotisation and odd descriptions of Greeks, as if we are another species. Even in published works. For many western writers it's difficult to catch, unfortunately.

The whole process is actually way easier than you think. You send me a text, I make notes and then we have some discussion on your vision.

It's always okay to seek guidance from the locals! You are not "guilty" when you admit you don't know! How can you know if you don't ask?? You can't imagine what relief and "πάλι καλά!!!" I read/see from other Greeks when I tell them another foreigner is using me for cultural sensitivity? Greeks want you to seek help and will NOT shame you for it!

(On the contrary, you have no idea how many eye-rolls Greeks do when they see a blatantly wrong thing in a story... Which has happened pretty often for many years now. Can we do better as an industry?? Please???)

You can send me a personal message to share your story, or ask what this whole cultural sensitivity thing is all about, or ask about what I have done so far and how I can help. But for the love of all that's good, don't let your story be another "generic greek myth retelling"! And don't let others sell you their generic greek myth retellings!!

[pomefioredove]

Hey Dove~

I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.

You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!

OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference

twst x mute reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment

summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it

he's not one to criticize strangeness

that would be rude, first of all

second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC

(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)

he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either

he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six

he's certainly patient

and he knows how to use context

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?

for a while, he just thought you talked fast

he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself

no biggie

then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...

...oh! no!

of course he's not annoyed!

Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it

you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything

he just watches you talk

and smiles

like this -> :)

it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...

observing

humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks

he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you

which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...

he teaches himself your language

and he becomes a sort of translator for you

any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it

weird, but nice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems

whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him

it's not his job to worry over you

then, you come to him asking for help, and...

...well, he's flattered

he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else

because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you

whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?

perhaps, but it's true

he's mastered the art of observation

he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away

he just knows

you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook

(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)

and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything

you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little

only in good fun, of course

and only if you respond in kind

but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words

he won't correct you or interrupt you, either

he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable

he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though

he cares <3

[starless-nightz]

Could you maybe do Wednesday, Enid and Bianca (seperate) with a S/O who is uncomfortable with physical affection, at least at first??

Wednesday, Enid and Bianca with a S/O whos uncomfortable with physical affection

note -> MY FAVORITE GIRLS AHHHH, I absolutely love the Wednesday girls like they are all so beautiful and silly, I need to write something about Yoko and Divina.

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff, all three are very respectful.

Wednesday Addams

Wednesday immediately picks up on how uncomfortable you are with touch; she's observant, and she finds it rather fascinating how you will stiffen or pull away whenever someone gets a little too close. Most people would prod or push, but she does none of those things—she keeps her distance.

She's not the type to demand constant physical affection herself, so the dynamic doesn't faze her. As a matter of fact, she enjoys being with a partner who knows not all affection needs to be loud and physical for it to be honest.

Instead of hugs or kisses, she'll give you silences shared, a book she thinks you'd like, or even a especially macabre location for a date. The way she looks at you-sharp, attentive, as if you're the only thing worth focusing on—is her own unique way of expressing her feelings.

Words are where she'll get a bit softer. She's not above giving you a small, dry compliment when the two of you are alone. They might sound weird, but from her, it's practically a declaration of love.

If you ever feel bad about not being able to offer more physical affection Wednesday will shut that thought down fast. "It's not a problem," she'll say without inflection, "It's just who you are. And if anyone has a problem with it, I'll deal with them accordingly." There's that slightly threatening glint in her eye and you know she means it.

Enid Sinclair

Enid adores being extremely affectionate—naturally so—hugs, cuddles, and holding hands. But once that clicked in that it makes you uncomfortable, she readjusts. The initial instinct might be to feel concern, she doing something wrong? Once she gets it, she is all for your boundaries.

She's really patient and soft about it all, she will talk with you about making sure that she's not crossing any boundaries, and always be open to work out what's best for both of you. Enid might feel a little sad that she can't show her love physically the way that she is used to, but she'd rather you be comfortable than anything else.

She masters all the non-physical touches: baking your favorite treats, sending you cute texts throughout the day, and leaving little notes or doodles in your locker. She will go out of her way to make sure you feel loved in a way that doesn't involve touch.

You'll often catch her bouncing in place with excitement when you have been away for some time. Rather than running up for a hug, she will flash a brilliant smile and wave until you're ready to approach—at your own pace.

On days when you feel all right with physical contact, Enid is quite happy to accommodate, though she'll always ask. "Can I give you a high-five?" she says with a grin, as though the question were a small celebration between the two of you.

She's your biggest cheerleader, always making sure you know you are perfect just the way you are. "You don't have to change anything for me," she'll say with a ring of sincerity in her voice. "I love you just as you are."

Bianca Barclay

Bianca has an instinct for observation, and she will easily notice that something is bothering you about displays of physical affection. She may start trying to test these boundaries with light touches or hands on the shoulder but instantly retreats the moment she perceives flinching or pulling away.

She's confideng enough in herself and in your relationship that she doesn't take it personally. If you ever try to explain or apologize, she'll cut you off with a gentle but firm, "You don't have to explain yourself. I get it.".

Bianca seeks other ways to connect with you, and the conversation often drifts into intellectual discourses and deep discussions. She loves to debate and hear your viewpoint; thus, those nocturnal talks become a form of closeness that she values just as much as physical closeness.

She'll often act very loving with acts of service. Someone's got to help you study for a test? She's there, with a set of notes perfectly organized. Got a tough situation you're trying to work through? Bianca will take care of it, no questions asked.

This is her way of trying to ensure you are safe, secure, and will never feel smothered; watching from a distance whenever she feels you are overwhelmed but never stepping in unless you need her.

Of course, when you do initiate even the tiniest of physical gestures—brushing your hand against hers, say—Bianca never overreacts. She will flash a slight smile on her lips, seeming to acknowledge it but not making it larger than it need be, for your discomfort. The smile does stay with her all day, though.

[dolcekissy]

tattoo galore , ღ

: ̗̀➛ rafe dating reader that has multiple tattoos and is also a tattoo artist.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ masterlist

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex, titty fucking, and yeahhh.

✎ i'm a beginner tattoo artist and love tattooing myself and people! but girl i just did a tattoo on myself and randomly thought about this. i loveee doing line work on myself, i'm working on doing a sleeve on my arm rn of butterflies and flowers and girlllll 😮‍💨. but i also love doing dope ass tattoos on people too. okay that's enough i just love sharing my love for tattooing! anyways hope you enjoy <3

─────────────────────────

rafe dating a tattoo artist would definitely consist of him getting turned on just from looking at your tattoos. you could be fresh out the shower, fresh ink barely peeking through the towel and right off the bat he wants to fuck you. he's obsessed with your naked body to begin with but your naked body filled with some sexy ass ink? whew.

me personally i love me a good tattoo down the valley of the breasts and so does rafe. rafe goes absolutely feral when you come home from your shop and he sees your tits halfway out and some fresh ink right in between them. he's already sooo obsessed with your tits and now this? are you trying to kill him?

once that tattoo is healed and all pretty again (which were the longest few weeks of his life), don't be surprised when he's fucking his dick into your breasts and watching his cum drip down it.

rafe loves watching you work. whether that be you practicing on fake skin or sketching something out or watching you do tattoos on some of your friends. one time you did a tattoo on sarah and he was amazed by how steady your hand was and how beautifully done it was.

"how do you keep your hand so steady? that line is straighter than sarah's priorities." sarah whipped her head around, threatening to get up and slap him just for you to yell at her to sit still. "girl fuck him but please! sit still!" you say trying not to laugh at his corny comment.

rafe also loves watching you work on yourself. whether it's a small tattoo or a big one he'll watch you work for hours. he's so fascinated with how you can do them on yourself, knowing it's extremely difficult to learn.

you two are sitting in your shop, him stealing a chair and sitting close enough to be able to watch you while you set up and start printing out the stencil.

"what're you doin today?" you grab the stencil from the printer and hold it up showing it to him. he observes it before asking where you're doing it at, almost shitting himself as you point to your inner thigh. immediately thinking about how good that's going to look and all the open mouth kisses he'll give it before lapping up your sweet, sweet juices.

rafe is totally in awe looking at your work you've posted on your socials or when you show him the work you did that day. he's so quick to show people your work or refer people to you. he could hear the word 'tattoo' come out of someone's mouth and he's automatically jumping to tell them that his girlfriend is an artist.

he'll be out in public and hear someone talking about how they want a new tattoo and will literally walk up to them and start showing them your work. his beautiful girlfriend is just so talented. why wouldn't he?

"yeah, my girlfriend did this on herself. oh and this one on my friend just a few days ago. i'll give you her info." he'll go on and on about you, "those other artists are just shitty if i'm being honest."

rafe would immediately go to you if he wants a tattoo. no matter how many times you tell him it's free of charge he'll still pay you.

"baby, you're literally my boyfriend. you don't need to pay me for this." you say as he's shoving hundred dollar bills in your face.

─────────────────────────

[alastor-simp]

Enchanting Lullaby - Insomniac Alastor x Sea Siren Reader

❥Summary: Everyone in the hotel knows that Alastor does not sleep, but what happens when he seeks you out and makes a request only you can provide for him.

❥Tags: Alastor x reader, sea siren, siren reader, insomniac, insomniac alastor, alastor does not sleep, fem reader

❥Notes: I am OBSESSED with siren songs. I find them so hypnotic and beautiful, so I wanted to write a story with a siren reader with Alastor. Wanted to give a shoutout to my friend ValerieWinks777 for helping me with this story. I recommend checking her out on Wattpad, she does amazing Alastor x reader stories.

Spending years in hell, forming unbreakable deals and ripping apart demons in his broadcasts have harden Alastor to put aside certain feelings and tasks, including sleep. Well, he used to sleep during the time when he was alive, honestly he is surprised he even could after all the horrible murders he committed. He didn't just decide one day that he wasn't going to slumber anymore, this change started slowly. Indulging gleefully in the wrath he enjoyed created new enemies, enemies he knew posed no threat, but the longer that list got, the less often he slept, as he rather stay awake and attack them head on if any of them even considered wanting to mess with the radio demon.

A couple days after the extermination war and rebuilding the hotel, it had gotten surprisingly more busy with new demons arriving to gander at the hotel, and possibly consider joining. Charlie had been working like a mad women, tending to make sure everything was perfect for the guests and also trying to lessen some of the workload on the others. She greatly appreciate everything that happened before, so she didn't want them lifting a finger with anything. Alastor, however, was not one to just stand there and not offer his assistance. He may still consider the hotel a bunch of wack-a-doo nonsense, but he has grown fond of Charlie and her beliefs, also considering how much of a gentleman he was, he wasn't going to let poor Charlie do everything herself. Charlie waved her hands in the air, saying profusely that it was okay and Alastor didn't need to help, but Alastor was persistent. "Ah ah ah. Charlie, my dear. As the facility manager of the hotel, it is substantial for me to offer my assistance. Now then! What humble tasks need to be dealt with?" Alastor said with a smile, as he bent down, putting his face closer to Charlie's. Charlie gave a sigh and small smile back to Alastor and told him of the assignments that needed to be done for today.

Alastor went about and began completing each task, stockpiling the drinks for the bar, making sure the rooms were all spick and span, obtain groceries for the kitchen and also prepare dinner for later tonight. Alastor had finally reach the end of the tasks and softly heaved a sigh. Performing small things like this was nothing to him, as he preferred to finish the job quickly and properly and not dwindle on it, but he had used a great amount of his powers to fulfill each one of them, causing him to feel more drained then usual. Alastor, for the first time, felt the need to take a good due rest, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy since it has been a millennium since he last slept. Pondering through his thoughts, he came up with an idea that could help him, as he made his way upstairs.

Knocking on your door, Alastor patiently waited, as the door to your room opened, with you standing on the other side of it, wearing your cozy pajamas. You looked up at Alastor with a smile, head tilted to the side. "Oh good evening, Al. Is there something you needed?" Alastor smiled down at you, showcasing more of his teeth. "Yes, my dear! I have encountered a bit of a dilemma and I need your assistance with the matter. Would it be alright if you could come to my chambers?" He observed your eyes glaze with confusion before you nodded your head, and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. Alastor had hooked his arm with yours, as the both of you walked towards his hotel room.

Upon entering his room, you glanced around his room, admiring the pocket dimension he had created. It gave a calm tranquil vibe in the room, along with the static music playing from the radio in his room. Al had said nothing when the both of you had entered his chambers, and you wondered if he was displeased with something. "Um.... Am I in trouble?" You question him, twiddling your fingers together. Alastor quickly turned back around to face you, eyes widen before going back to normal, while a soft smile was placed on his face. "Heavens no! You are no form of trouble my dear, I can assure you. There is just something I need from you however." He walk closer into his room, removing his coat jacket and setting it on the chair next to his desk, revealing his red striped shirt that was hidden. He ventured closer to his bed, removing his black shoes before taking a seat on it while crossing his legs. His eyes went back up to look at you, extending his hand out, inviting you to join him.

Your face flushed for a bit, as you made your way over to where Alastor resided, taking a seat on his bed, facing him. The both of you sat in silence, before Alastor broke it. "If my memory serves me correctly, your demon form is similar to that of a sea siren. Am I correct, my dear?" He turned to face you, peering down at you while you looked at him. Your answer to his question was a small nod. "Splendid! That will be quite useful for me!" Alastor seemed almost giddy with joy, making you feel a bit confused. "Can I ask a question?" You asked Alastor. Alastor continued to stare at you, telling you to go ahead. "Why is my nature going to be beneficial for you?" Alastor eyes gazed into yours, as they were filled with confusion. Heaving a sigh, Alastor slowly grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "As much as it pains me to say this, but I need your help, darling. I am aware of the soothing hypnotic voices of sirens, how there gorgeous songs allure sailors. I am asking you if you could sing for me, my dear." Alastor smile almost dropped a bit, his face holding a slight melancholic look as he continued to stare at you. You continued to look at him, before you asked him why you needed to sing to him.

Alastor heaved another sigh, rubbing his hair with his other hand. "It has been a drastically long time, since I have enjoyed the comforts of my own bed. However, falling asleep has not been an easy task for me, and along with the chores that I have completed for sweet Charlie. I crave a good rest now more then ever." Upon observing his face, you noticed the dark circles that appeared underneath his eyes. His smile as well seemed a bit forced, almost as if he was having a hard time keeping it up. Your heart ached for him, as you placed you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours. "I will help you Alastor, but there is something you have to do for me." Alastor raised an eyebrow at you, asking what it was that you needed. "Well, could you use your powers to soundproof the room? My siren voice may reach the others, and cause them to fall asleep as well." SNAP! Within an instant, Alastor had snapped his fingers, preventing any sound from reaching out the room.

With a nod of your head, you moved further back on the bed, waiting to make room for your transformation. A dark light enveloped your form, as your body became covered in black and white scales, and your legs had morphed together into a long mermaid tail, causing your pajama pants to slide off. Alastor continued to gaze at you in amazement, finding your form truly haunting while incredibly beautiful. Once you had completed your transformation, you leaned back against the pillow, raising both your hands up towards Alastor. Alastor stood stiff, confused at your actions. "Come here." you said, keeping your arms stretched out. Alastor realized what you meant, his cheeks become a tad flushed. "M-my dear, there is no need-" His words were cut off, as you pulled him down. His head had landed on your chest, as his whole body was placed on top of you, with his legs rested on your lower tail. Your arms wrapped around him, placing one against his hair, giving it a rub. "Shh its alright Alastor. I just want you to be comfortable okay?" Alastor hadn't moved when he was on top of you, apparently not use to actions like this. His body soon began to relax, as he nuzzled closer into your chest, moving his arms to wrap them around your back. His actions caused a soft smile to appear on your face, as you continued to play with his hair. "I'm going to start singing now, are you ready?" You looked down, waiting for his answer. Alastor peaked one of his eyes out from your chest, giving you a small nod. Giggling at his cuteness, you moved the hand from his hand to rub at his cheek, before placing it back on his red locks.

Taking a few deep breaths, you leaned your head back against the pillow. Soon, you opened your mouth, and began to sing.

(THIS SONG IS SO SOOTHING, I LOVE IT!!)

𝄞 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eye as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwell, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents and three thousands pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea

While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold 𝄞

Your beautiful song had ended, leaving the room in a calming silence. Looking down, you motioned your head to look at Alastor. His head was still nuzzled on your chest, the one eye that had peaked to look at you had closed. His breathing was slowed and he was letting out small static-like snores and a few purrs. Smiling warmly, you leaned closer to his head, giving it a soft kiss. Your hand left his head, and began to reach for the blanket nearby on the bed, motioning it to have it lay over both you and Alastor. You placed your hand back on his hair, giving it a comforting rub, as you leaned back against the pillow, whispering, "Good night Alastor."

Tag List:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes

[mel-addams]

Get Started Drawing...

...even as a complete beginner!

In my efforts to help some friends who are only just starting to learn to draw (as adults! glorious!! <3), I kept digging around for resources that cover things I remember learning in the various art classes I've taken...but that does a better job than I can of laying it all out in a comprehensive, but not overwhelming, manner. (I am far too prone to rambling as you can see from this post, and bounce around topics as I remember them, rather than in a sensible order.) I've found a few guides here and there that cover one thing or another decently well...but I've finally found a free site I'm really keen on as an overall source if you're just starting out with learning to draw!

It's incredibly clear and concise, whereas many of the other sites and books I found could sometimes be overwhelmingly detailed. It's arranged in a way that reminds me of the flow of art classes, starting at the very first steps--how to approach art if you've never done it before, and the fact that you only need basic tools to begin with. If you go in approximate order, it then establishes that you should start sorting out a solid foundation by practicing simple lines and shapes--the same way you learned to write letters so you could ultimately make words, sentences, stories... This includes some neat little practice exercises with questions to consider while you do them, so you also learn to see and observe things like angles and proportions, which are critical for being able to accurately draw more complex things.

It evolves from there into how to take those basic shapes and turn them into simplified human bodies--and from there, how to consider more complex 3D versions of the shapes to give those bodies a sense of dimension and physicality. It even touches on things like composition, silhouette, negative space, and line of action--all in a quick, straightforward manner. It plants the seed of understanding for these more complex illustration concepts, which you can then research further, armed with relevant terminology to dig up more in-depth resources as they catch your interest!

The style itself is usually simple, but even if your aim is to draw with a more detailed style, this one can serve as a base sketch to add that detail to. (Combine learning this base with photo studies, plus more detailed style guides for wherever you want to take your art, and you could use this as a base for comics, cartoons, anime, realism...the core concepts and skills remain the same!) There's also examples of how to adjust for varied body shapes, so it provides more flexibility than some drawing guides do, which often only focus on one "ideal" body type. (This style can also be used for that, if it's what you want--you just adjust the proportions of the basic shapes as you need! But this provides examples of how to handle variety, which will give you a better foundation for drawing people and characters so they don't all look the same, instead of having to figure out how to adjust for it later on.) The Shape Dolls for reference are also incredibly delightful, and a great cheap way to have a little pose reference mannequin of sorts!

There's also links to sources if you want to dig into concepts more deeply--available both as a general source page, as well as some specific topics including relevant sources at the bottom of their respective pages. There's also a patreon with some extra thoughts that is fully accessible for free, but has a paid option if you want to support Tan for providing such a lovely resource! (Also they have a legit vegetable farm?? How cool is that.)

So yes! If you have any interest in learning to draw--whether you've ever tried before or not, and no matter your age--try looking through this site, and let it guide you through the process!

[earthtooz]

. . . LOVE ME HARDER !

in which: it's been two weeks. you have a resignation letter in hand and a grumpy itoshi sae who is not at all pleased at your decision.

˗ˏˋ masterlist series: first part | next part ´ˎ˗

collab series ft. sixosix earthtooz aanobrain . . . !

warnings: gn!manager!reader, pining, reader and sae r in their 20s, tension, so much pining, unedited towards the end but that's bc i have no time AHH.

"are you sure?"

you stare sadly at the two weeks resignation letters in your boss’ hand, blinking once, then twice as a heavy feeling of regret sinks in your chest, further powered by the jumbled thoughts in your brain, screaming at you to say both ‘yes’ and ‘no’. with an exhale, you listen to your heart and nod your head decisively.

“i’m sure,” you affirm. sae’s face flashes briefly in your mind and you cringe internally at the look of betrayal you can see so clearly. still, you grit your teeth and don’t back out.

“we can give you a raise or extra company benefits if that’s more motivation to stay?” instinctively, a materialistic part of you is ready to give in to the offers, but the rational part of you begs otherwise. “we haven’t had a worker like you who has been able to cooperate with sae this well.”

“thank you for the opportunity, sir, but i think it’s time to move on.”

your boss gives you a pointed look before putting down your papers with a sigh. “if that’s the case then i can’t stop you. you were a good asset, y/n, good luck with your future endeavours.”

with a thank you, you make your way out of the office, a heavy dread settling in your chest as you think about how sae would take this news. how would you tell him? you’re not that heartless that you’d just leave without letting him know but what would you say? ‘hey these are my last two weeks as your manager, lol’.

“you’re late,” a voice interrupts your thoughts and you snap back into reality, greeted with the face of itoshi sae, his usual apathy masking the subtle displeasure you can hear in his tone. you ignore the way your heart jumps simply at the sight of him. 

maybe putting in those resignation forms was for the best.

“sorry. had to speak to management,” you mutter out. 

the magenta-haired athlete narrows his eyes in suspicion but before he could ask you another question, you sit down in front of him and open up your diary with the schedule for the day. “okay. let’s see what needs to get done today.”

you ignore the way sae stares at you like he has something to say and you hope he’s not observant enough to see that you’re avoiding looking him in the eye as much as possible because you’d know your heart would give out from the pressure. 

two weeks. two more weeks and you’ll escape itoshi sae forever, no matter how much you don’t want to.

***

you’re on the sidelines where sae is practising, furiously typing out an email on your laptop when your name gets called out, the voice coming from the entranceway of the field. it’s your boss but there’s a man of average height right behind him, dressed smartly with glasses and equipment fit for an office worker. 

he must be sae’s new manager after you’re gone. bless him.

straightening up, you close the lid of your laptop before setting it aside, getting up to greet him with a small hop in your step. you ignore the way sae has stopped practising at the entrance of someone new. feeling of his inquisitive gaze burning into your every move lingers as you approach the visitors. 

“y/n, this is girolan dabadie, he’ll be sae’s manager after you leave,” your boss states, gesturing to the man behind who gives you a humble wave, paired with a friendly smile. oh poor soul. you can tell he does not have the guts to work with sae.

then again, not a lot of people do. you included, which is why you’re resigning.

“hi, i’m y/n, pleasure to meet you.”

“pleasure to meet you too,” he says.

“we just thought it’d be nice for girolan here to get prepared with the ropes of his role before being thrown in the deep end next week.”

“of course, i’ll be more than happy to get you started, it is a tough job after all,” you say lightheartedly despite the last part being a sugarcoating of how truly draining it is to be sae’s manager.

and, speaking of the devil, you don’t like the way your gut churns, turbulent waves settling in your stomach in a way that makes you feel funny when you look sae in the eye. he’s staring at you so very intensely that if you hadn’t looked away immediately after, you suspect you would have combusted on the spot. there are questions that he wants answer to and judging by the glimpse of betrayal in his eyes, you can tell that it is not going to be a conversation you’ll like having. 

for now, you grit your teeth and put on a professional front. this is why you were leaving, because sae looks at you too casually, too much, and you, similarly, know him too much, too casually. 

leaving the training field, you can’t help but feel like you’re also leaving something meaningful behind.

“everyday you need to have the player’s schedules. most of them have promotions which you need to manage, so for example, sae has a shoot for adidas abibas next week. all you have to do is go to the shoot with him and foresee everything, the set managers there have that all under control, the only thing you need to control is itoshi sae himself,” you tell girolan halfway into the tour, now in your office space where you had schedules hung up everywhere. “these cabinet files are full of contracts, tax files, cash flows, all of the stuff that i have no doubt you’re familiar with.” 

“all of these just for itoshi sae?” girolan asks, looking at the stacks of paper on your desk. 

you sigh, slumping. “that’s what happens when you manage one of the most in-demand soccer players. don’t tell anyone but, it’s easier to manage the whole team than sae himself.”

eventually, the tour continues and you lead him through the rest of the spaces that he should know by heart. when you think you’re done with the introduction, it’s around 4:30, and you see girolan out to the main entrance. 

“any questions? you can have my contact so that if you have any queries or concerns, you can reach out to me over the week,” you say, handing the new manager your card.

“i appreciate the crash course today, but admittedly i’m still a little nervous,” girolan confesses, “i mean, i saw first hand just how busy you are… any personal advice for the job?”

“just… good luck. it’s a handful but it’s a good experience nevertheless. at the end of the day, i’m more grateful for this role than i am not.” 

“if that’s the case, why are you leaving?”

you widen your eyes, unprepared for that question. girolan catches on to your shock and immediately begins to apologise, afraid that he’s overstepped. “no, no, it’s okay, it’s a valid question. i’m leaving for personal reasons, ones that i can’t really go into.”

“i see.” 

after that, you briefly say goodbye to one another, exchanging pleasantries before he leaves the building. you sigh in relief, looking down at your watch to see that you only had 20 minutes now to catch up on the outstanding work you left behind, an incredibly unrealistic time limit. you can already tell you’re going to work overtime tonight.

before you can dwell too much on that fact, a voice pops up from behind you.

“personal reasons?”

you turn around to see sae leaning against a wall behind you, completely unimpressed and disappointed. you hate it when he looks at you like that.

“yes, sae, for personal reasons,” you mutter, hardening your defences before walking past him. that doesn’t shake him off though, nothing ever does.

“and what personal reasons could that be?” he asks, not batting an eye to being waved off by you like that.

you walk a little faster. “they are personal reasons, sae, meaning that they’re none i should ever tell you.”

pushing open the door to your office with more force required, you don’t see the way sae flinches slightly at your outburst, furrowing his brows at how uncharacteristic you were acting. he doesn’t shy away though, following you into your office. you continue sorting through papers like he’s not there and that irks him even more.

“but how could you not tell me? i thought you resigning would be an important topic to bring up sooner rather than later.”

“i didn’t think you’d care.”

“so?” he spits. “i would rather you tell me than me finding out myself by seeing some random who is apparently my new manager.”

you cringe at his words. “okay well, i’m resigning as your manager. happy? be nice to girolan.”

sae groans. “were you just going to let me find out by myself in a week if today hadn’t happened? were you ever going to tell me?”

you shrug, punching some holes through some papers before adding them to an (already filled) binder. “maybe.” 

sae grabs your wrist and you jump from the contact, as if his touch was lava and burns. the magenta-haired doesn’t miss your reaction, in fact, he narrows his eyes at you when he notices. you make the mistake of looking him in the eye and the churn in your stomach is back, heart skipping a beat as your hand goes limp in his.

this must be what they call a ‘moment’ in the movies, because you’re definitely having one right now, and it’s getting harder to keep your resolve up. 

“sae, please leave. i’m trying to finish up these tasks before the day ends and you’re really disturbing me,” you grumble, trying not to let your voice waver. glancing away from sae, you slip your wrist out of his grasp and step away, creating some distance.

“is it something i did?” he asks. “if you’re not leaving because of the job itself then it must be the person, right? did i do something to upset you?”

“why do you care?”

“i have every right to, you’re my manager.” 

“i won’t be in a week.”

“that’s a week away, you are still my manager right now and i want to know why it is you’re leaving.”

“can you not take the hint, sae? i don’t want to tell you!” you exclaim, shutting the filing drawer with a little more force than necessary.

“i won’t leave until you tell me.”

“you will actually hate me if i tell you.”

“i will hate you if you don’t tell me.”

“well then it doesn’t matter.”

“yes it does. if you’re just gonna leave me behind then i can’t see why you can’t tell m-”

“-if i tell you will you leave?” you snap. the silence is deafening, with sae widening his eyes in shock at your outburst. he nods firmly. “i like you. in more than a professional way. that’s why.”

turning around to the filing cabinet again, you reach out to pull the drawer with shaky hands, a racing heart, and a swirling stomach. 

“now that i’ve told you, could you please leave?” you omit to tell him that you can’t look him in the eye. not anymore now that you’ve effectively ruined whatever-was-going-on between you and the star athlete.

footsteps echo behind you, drawing near with each click of sae’s shoes. you stiffen when they stop right behind you and there’s a moment of quiet, allowing you to hear sae shuffle behind you, a hesitant hand reaches out to cover yours, gently pulling it away from the cabinet to turn you around instead.

you don’t look him in the eye, glancing at every inch of the walls in your office just to avoid him. sae frowns at your evasion.

“can you look me in the eye so i don’t sound stupid saying what i’m about to say?” he asks, a little gentler than his usual, demanding tone, but still cold enough that your gaze cuts to meet his.

“you always sound stupid,” you mutter without thinking. 

sae scrunches his face in judgement. “seriously? i was gonna say something you’d like to hear to. way to go for ruining it.” 

“what, no! tell me!”

“i don’t think you deserve to know anymore, stupid.”

“hey! if i had to tell you then it’s only fair if-”

“-i like you too.”

that zips you up and a glimpse of mirth shines in sae’s eyes, paired with an almost-unnoticeable quirk of his lips upward. 

“you do?” you stammer in disbelief. 

“yeah.” 

“oh.”

“yeah.”

there’s a pregnant silence between you two. no one ever really tells you what to do in scenarios like this, and the one time you’d like to use your brain and not embarrass yourself in front of sae, your mind decides to see itself out. “that’s… cool.”

“that’s all you have to say?”

“what, do you have more to add?”

“not really apart from inviting you to dinner with me.” 

“when?”

“tonight.”

“tonight?” you parrot. “i can’t, i have so many tasks left to finish!”

“just leave them behind.”

“i can’t! i should get them done before i leave.”

“you leave in a week, then none of these tasks are your problem anymore.”

“that’s really not the best way to think about this, sae.”

“so thank goodness you’re my manager and not someone else.”

you narrow your eyes at him, immediately knowing what he was implying. “don’t think that this is a reason for me to stay being your manager. in fact, i’d argue that i now have more reasons to quit.” 

with a ‘tch’, the soccer player rolls his eyes. “okay whatever, we’re grabbing dinner and that’s final.” he threads your hands together. “c’mon, sweets, let’s go.”

[eqt-95]

💙 for supercorp , pretty please!

oh brilliant! yes of course!! i was hoping for this one so i'd finally be motivated to write the scene that was inspired by this post. i have literally had it saved in my tumblr drafts since february. and yes i just scrolled through half of my 784 drafts to find it.

- - - - - -

“Actually no, we're not ‘dating’. We're bound together for infinity. Like the stars. So, fuck you, actually-”

Alex clicked the remote, freezing the screen to perfectly capture a very outspoken, very drunk Lena Luthor doing an uncanny impression of Taylor Armstrong in front of a throng of paparazzi.

“Can we watch it again?”

“No,” Alex answered tersely, setting the remote next to three overflowing folders, a coffee mug that needed to be filled with something a little stronger, and a cellphone she had to silence after the hundredth social media notification sent it rattling off the table.

Nia slouched in her chair with a ‘hmph’ and muttered something that sounded like garbled nothing to normal ears but very much like ‘never any fun,’ to Kryptonian ears.

“Right,” Alex continued, her attention directed across the table. She’d spent the majority of the recording with her face downturn and fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in what could only be described as ‘resignation’ mixed with the ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ strategy she had been trying with Esme.. “Care to explain what compelled you to proclaim you... infinite, cosmic link with Supergirl?”

“Not really, no,” a much more subdued, much less drunk Lena answered.

“Seems pretty self-explanatory,” Nia chimed in, spinning in the chair next to Alex. “Luthor can’t hold her liquor.” She bounced a clicky pen on the table-surface to accentuate the point. Alex gritted her teeth.

“I most certainly can-”

“Channel 7 says otherwise,” Nia grinned. The clicky pen was pointed accusingly.

“That,” J’onn began, and then pen clicked in offense, “is the least of our concerns-”

“Exactly,” Alex interrupted while blindly swiping the pen from Nia's hand and slamming it onto the table. “Do you have any idea how many conspiracy theories have started because of this? This has gone national-”

“International, actually,” Brainy added. “Canada and Australia have both picked it up.”

“Which means it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the world is needling around about- about…” Alex’s face plunged closer to a shade of raspberry.

“About what, Alex?” Lena asked. She leaned forward, arms crossed with her super sexy calm, cool, and ceo-collected face. It was almost working too, except for the mischievous glint and flicker of her eyebrow that revealed she was not taking this remotely serious enough for the eldest Danvers sister. “About my throuple with Kara Danvers and Supergirl?”

Alex’s face found her hands. Nia sputtered laughter from behind her own. J’onn stared longingly toward the closed door. Brainy scowled in confusion.

“It cannot be a throuple if two members are the same person,” Brainy said, glancing quickly toward Nia who nodded in confirmation.

“CNN doesn't know that. But fine, call it infidelity, stepping out on-” Lena offered lazily.

“Still not the point. You’ve jeopardized Kara’s secret identity,” Alex interrupted crossly. “And now you've put her in danger of-”

“I thought it was sort of sweet.”

Five pairs of eyes turned toward Kara who, until now, had remained silently observed. She sat at the head of the table wearing her suit and a recent bout of puppy love. Two pairs of eyes were gobsmacked, the third was failing to hide the glee over the entire exchange, and the fourth included a quick wink that made Kara’s cheeks flush even redder and bat her figurative tail even harder.

“Sweet. Right, well,” Alex began again, “‘Sweet’ doesn’t exactly handle the problem, does it?”

“It’ll blow over; these things always do,” Lena added. “We can have Andrea run a boring fluff piece about my night on the town being a slew of misguided comments. Say I said the earth was flat and that I challenged the Second Law of Motion or something. Make it dry. Everyone will chalk it up to part of that.”

“Fine.”

“And we can put this whole thing to-”

“Don't you dare-” Alex warned.

“-bed.”

Alex sighed, J’onn climbed to his feet like a tired high school teacher, Nia bounced giddily in her chair, and Lena was already glancing over at Kara and giving her a look that suggested they were not going to make it through the day without a trip to the broom closet. 

Kara's cheeks flushed even redder if that were remotely possible.

•••••••

And so a fluff piece was written, the tabloids took a few lazy swipes at another Luthor edging toward instability, and then the story deflated entirely into obsolescence. The news cycle moved on, Alex's blood pressure returned to normal, and Kara was permanently living on cloud nine.

Everything was fine.

Everything was great.

Everything was going swimmingly.

Until the second video was discovered.

From the same night.

Nia brought popcorn. J’onn brought a heavy sigh. Alex brought a decade of instantaneous aging. 

“Care to explain?” Nia asked with her best angry-Alex impression. 

Meanwhile Alex was struggling to unclench her jaw.

“Deep fake?” Lena offered lamely.

“Deep fake,” Alex parroted. “You think someone somewhere invested the time to deep fake Lena Luthor and Supergirl making out? For what? Fun? Kicks? Laughs?”

“They already spend hours writing steamy fanfiction,” Lena shrugged. 

“They what-?” Alex choked.

“Hot, steamy, inspired sex, really-”

“No-”

“Kara, darling, do you remember the one with my desk and the full-length windows?”

Kara flushed but nodded. Nia squealed with delight. Alex had had it.

“Enough-”

“Or the one where we lived in an alternate universe and you were a cowboy and was your-”

“Stop. Stop it.” 

Lena leaned back into her chair, a smile of victory spreading across her face.

“I’m just saying, stands to reason someone might show us in the throws of deep, passionate-”

“I don't want to know. I don't. Want. To know,” Alex interrupted, hands cupped around her ears.

“Cosplay?”

Again five pairs of eyes turned to Kara. 

“Could've been cosplay.”

“I can't believe… J’onn can you… handle… this,” Alex waved between the two.

“Should we watch it again?” Nia suggested. “Just to check Kara's theory.”

And without preamble, she clicked play again. It was far fuzzier, far more amateur, and far less deniable than the first.

“Charlie, Charlie, baby look here,” the phone holder shouted over a group of laughing, tipsy NCU students. “Do the impression again, please? I want it for-”

“Yo, yo, check it out.” 

“Is that-?”

The camera pivoted from the ginger-haired Charlie to a dark alley between 

“Oh damn, is that Supergirl?”

“And… Lena Luthor?”

“I knew it. I told you!”

The stage whispers were doing far more for Alex’s discomfort than the shaky camera zooming 2x onto what was very clearly Supergirl pressing Lena Luthor into a wall and doing a very good job of ripping Lena’s $1,200 blouse open. 

“Ooph, Mrs. Fischer is not going to be happy about that,” Nia commented.

A glitter of buttons bounced off the sidewalk, and Supergirl’s mouth was moving hungrily and decidedly across the exposed skin.

“We’ve seen enough,” Alex chimed in and reached, some might say ‘desperately’, for the remote in Nia’s hands. “Once already scarred me for life-”

“But we won’t know until we see drunk, cosplay-Lena’s face. It’s for science, Alex,” Nia answered, clutching the remote like the lifeline to a sinking ship and climbing onto and over the conference table just as ‘cosplay’-Lena pulled ‘cosplay’-Supergirl’s mouth back to her.

“Bullshit,” Alex hissed, making quick work of scattering across the same table. 

Meanwhile ‘cosplay’-Supergirl’s hands were no longer visible and the gang of NCU students were actively chanting them on. “Nia Nal, if you do not turn that off right now-”

The chase continued under the table, over three chairs, and around a trash bin Nia knocked over in a valiant attempt to slow her assailant. And while Nia and Alex made a mess of the conference room, ‘cosplay’-Supergirl was making an absolute mess of ‘cosplay’-Lena’s bun-

“Never!” Nia huffed and side-spun before making a poor calculation and tripping over an empty chair. Alex saw her window and lunged, tackling Nia, gripping the remote free and slamming pause just as ‘cosplay’-Lena found the zipper to ‘cosplay’-Supergirl’s suit.

“Do you have any idea the-” Alex’s vitriol stopped in its tracks. Why? Because they were totally and completely alone. No Brainy or J’onn and worse, no Lena or Kara. “What… where’d they go?”

“Probably the broom closet,” Nia mused.

- - - -

ask game

[buttercandy16]

Mine to Covet

(Dark!ReverendMotherJessica x Female!Reader)

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: An unfortunate fate where your lover's mother wants to have you all to herself, and she's willing to do anything.

Warning(s): Dark fanfiction, Smut, Yandere, Dub-Con, etc.

A/N: I do love my yandere. Another anon also asked for a yandere/kidnapping fic and I'll probably write that one next. Also, English is not my first language so please don't come after me due to my grammar. Enjoy!

Gimme me more requests!! Please!

-_-_-

JESSICA’S POV

As a Bene Gesserit, I possess supreme levels of discipline, including complete control over my emotions and urges. So how is it that I can feel my blood boil in anger and taste the bitterness of envy violate my tongue as I watch my own son woo the woman he claims as his? Why do I feel the strong urge to cut off his hand the moment it touched yours?

At first, I was confused by this foreign feeling, so I grew angry with myself. I didn’t understand what it was.

It first occurred when Paul, my only son, introduced you to me. A Fremen girl he has grown to fancy. I remembered how he gushed over you, clearly seeking his mother’s approval, my approval. But no words from his lips reached my interest for I had my focus solely on the divine creature presented to me. With a barely concealed amusement, I observed your fidgeting form battling the urge to look me straight in the eyes, it was clear to me that you were nervous, the reason may be from knowing that I am the Reverend Mother or maybe because it is I who birthed the Lisan al Gaib or simply because I am Paul’s mother, it mattered not to me. What mattered was the pleasant feeling that I get from your presence alone. Such a strange girl… However, my amusement ended swiftly when Paul held your hand in his. My breath hitched and my once relaxed hand turned to a fist as my vision started to bleed red.

What is happening to me?! Why do I feel this way?! I remembered muttering inside my head. I felt as if I was no longer in control of my own body. Fear clawed against my skin and with great haste, I silently spoke the litany of fear to calm myself. Careful not to expose the battle within to anyone present. Unfortunately, I find myself feeling the same way right now.

Not long after realization struck me like a ton of bricks. The dreadful realization that I simply covet you…the girl whom my son is in love with. I want you as much as he does… maybe even more so.

I blame my late Duke’s death for having these thoughts. Perhaps it is caused by the sudden loss of the man I loved that pushed me into having these strong urges towards you. Maybe I see him in you and I'm feeling lonely. Or maybe I’m just truly damaged and deranged that my head is now filled with such corrupted thoughts. I am desiring something or rather someone I can’t have.

But you will have her… she is yours… the voices in my head whisper.

“No, she’s with Paul… She belongs to my son,” I whisper back as I look at you longingly while hiding in the shadows.

She belongs to no one else but yours… Yours to love… yours to keep… yours to defile… yours to consume…

“Stop it… You have no idea what you’re saying. I cannot hurt Paul like that,” I weakly argue back as my eyes start to water with tears. I love my son dearly and because of that, I will fight hard against the voices… against my feelings. But deep inside I know I’m fighting a losing battle… I know that I have already lost.

_-_-_

Time passed and bit by bit my resolve crumbled and the thoughts of my son turned into nothing. Now, all I can think of is you… and the millions of other ways I can have you.

She is yours…

Claim her…

She is yours…

Claim her….

Eyes dark with lust and pure deranged obsession I look at you once more while hidden in the shadows as I whisper to myself, “She is mine and I will claim her.”

-_-_-

Y/N POV

"You're so beautiful, " Paul whispered in my ear, making me smile.

We've been sitting out here for some time now. Watching as the sun sets for the night.

"We better go inside, Paul. It's no longer safe to stay out at this hour"

Paul nodded in agreement before he pulled me up with him and we started to walk inside.

"Oh, I almost forgot. My mother wants to see you," I stopped when I heard what he said.

"Why?" I asked, trying to remain calm as much as possible.

Truth be told. Paul's mother, the Reverend Mother, scares me. She’s a Bene Gesserit, she walks in the shadows. No one truly knows what goes on in her mind. All I know is there’s something strong about her presence, but something that felt forbidden and so wrong. She is beautiful as much as she’s dangerous.

In simple terms, I don’t trust her.

"Don't worry, she just wants to talk," he gave me a reassuring smile before leaving me in front of the Reverend Mother's tent.

After taking a deep breath I made my presence known by going inside. My eyes wandered all over the unique decor of the Reverend Mother’s tent until it settled on the middle where there’s a small table with two cups filled with some kind of tea.

“Hello little one,” a sultry voice whispered suddenly into my ear, breaking me out of my thoughts and making me turn to see the Reverend Mother invading my personal space so sensually from behind.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she continued with a chuckle.

“No need to ask for forgiveness, Reverend Mother. You didn’t” I lied, trying to remain calm as I felt my cheeks heat up from our proximity. “Paul said that you asked to see me.”

“I did,” Her eyes were on me, filled with intent that I failed to decipher. She brushed her fingertips across my shoulder, causing goosebumps to run along my skin before she motioned for me to sit on the carpeted ground right next to the small table.

After I complied she walked towards me and immediately joined me by sitting close to my side, our clothed thighs lightly brushing against each other.

“Have some tea, I have it specially prepared for us,” she said while gesturing for me to take it, there's a challenging glint in her eyes, daring me to refuse.

With no intention to displease my lover’s mother, I complied and took a little sip. The moment it met my tongue I was surprised to find it very cooling.

“This is good”

“Yes, simple but very soothing. But, you must drink deeply for the full effect,” she said with amusement dripping from her voice.

Without any second thoughts, I did what I was told, and the Reverend Mother seemed satisfied with this as I can see it in her smile. Soon I was holding an empty cup. I had drained it and yet, I’m still thirsty.

“Would you like some more?” she asked.

“Y-yes, If it’s not much of a bother, Reverend Mother,” I replied, self-consciously rubbing the fabric over my hips.

“Not at all, and please... Call me Jessica” she replied, her eyes glinting with something dark as she carefully replenished my cup.

 “As you wish, Jessica. May I know why I'm being summoned?” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest as our gazes met before I took a generous sip from my drink. There was something undeniably alluring about her, something that both scared and excited me.

The weight of her eyes on me feels invasive like she could see through my cracks and discover all of my weaknesses. She’s watching me as if I’m her prey.

“You must understand, Y/N, I’m a determined woman. Whenever I have an agenda I’ll make sure to do everything in my power to achieve it. Whatever means necessary.” She muttered, leaning in close to my ear. Her warm breath sent shivers down my spine.

“Did Paul touch you yet?” Her tone was casual with her sudden question, but her eyes were anything but. 

“Wh-what?,” I stuttered, feeling my cheeks flush not believing what I was hearing right now.

“Have you given yourself to my son, sexually?” she leaned in closer to me.

“Uh, n-no,” I stammered, my body trembling like a leaf.

“Are you being truthful with me?” she purred, her fingertips ghosting lightly along my exposed neck. It was such a simple yet surprisingly intimate gesture that it made me feel like the tent suddenly caught fire from how hot it was.

I shakily nodded while she only looked at me with satisfaction.

“Have you taken his gift of water yet? Or yours to him?” she asked, scooting closer. Her smell was intoxicating and it made my head spin.

“N-no…not yet. He wants to wait until we are to be married.”

The Reverend Mother snickered under her breath and continued. “I raised that boy and taught him everything I know so he’ll rise and fulfill his destiny one day. But now, I’m starting to have second thoughts. It seems to me he’s just as weak as his father. A beautiful morsel such as yourself standing so willingly at the palm of his hand and yet he never thought about fully claiming you as his. So sure that you’ll stay right where you are. I guess he never thought about someone stealing you away. Such a huge mistake on his part but a blessing for me.” she said with a wicked grin, her delicate fingers tracing slow circles on my forearm as if she were teasing me.

But before I could respond, I noticed that the tent was becoming increasingly warm. Worse, I was finding my body uncomfortably warm. My face was becoming flushed and I was panting. My suit was becoming very confining. How odd, I thought. I grew up wearing this suit, but now I desire nothing more than to get them off.

My eyes landed on my now empty cup next to the Reverend Mother’s. That’s when I realized that she’d never touched her cup, not even a single drop.

She followed my gaze to her cup before catching mine. Slightly tilting her head, she then smiled knowingly.

“I-I need to leave” I croaked back, fear creeping into my bones as alarm bells started ringing in my head. 

But when I was about to stand up, I was immediately met with a sudden dizziness making me sit back down ungracefully.

It felt like my innards were being replaced by some kind of emptiness. I tried to stand again, desperate to leave the tent. I swayed just for a moment before the Reverend Mother caught me and pushed me down with my back against the carpet, a soft gasp of surprise leaving my lips.

She didn’t waste any time as she got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head in a tight grip, sharp nails digging against my skin but not breaking.

The Reverend Mother’s face was close to mine as she intently stared into my fear-filled eyes.

“Oh, no little girl. You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered above me.

Her face was blank from any emotion, but her eyes said it all.

“Did you poison me?” I whimpered. Her grip on my wrist tightened more than before, making me yelp in pain as she cut off the circulation of my blood.

“Of course not, I would never harm you without reason. Only to ensure your utmost obedience. The tea is for making you more pliant, not to kill.” she purred, leaning in close enough that our lips almost brushed. Her warm breath mingled with mine.

“What do y-you want from me?” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

She smiled maliciously at me before she started speaking.

“Isn’t it obvious, dear one? I want you.” one of her hands left my wrist and slowly traced my face with her fingers before she continued, “From the moment we met I already felt a certain pull towards you. I didn’t fully realize what it was until much later. Deep down I know you feel the same. That’s the reason why you went with Paul so that you could be closer to me.”

She’s starting to sound and look very much deranged. To my complete horror, she seems to believe her words to be true.

No…This can’t be happening. Paul… I’m with Paul!

I shook my head no but that was not what she was looking for. I yelped in pain from the sudden sting of her slap against my now-reddened cheek.

“Do not lie to me.” Her tone was assertive as she spoke every word.

“I’m not.” I cried weakly.

Another slap and tears started to run down my cheeks.

She leaned down and her warm wet tongue immediately tasted my despair with delight written all over her face. 

“I don’t like hurting you. But know that I will when I deem it necessary. So you better give me the answer that I want, little girl. Don’t test my patience. Try again.”

I only shook my head once more, refusing to back down. This made her chuckle

”Such a stubborn girl. I’ll enjoy breaking and reshaping you into my good little girl.” she whispered next to my ear.

Is she for real? My mouth fell open as I struggled to say anything. Suddenly I heard footsteps outside the tent.

“Mother, is Y/N still with you?”

Hearing Paul’s voice almost made me tear up with joy thinking that this would all come to an end. But when I looked at the Reverend Mother it seemed like I was dead wrong. Instead of seeing a look of panic, she gave me a wicked grin.

“She is… come inside, my son. I want to show you something.”

Paul entered the tent and suddenly froze where he stood when his eyes landed on us. The woman he sires pinned underneath his own mother’s body.

“Wh-what is going on here?” Paul asked as he looked at us confused.

“Paul, help me, please. Your mother has lost her mind” I pleaded as he went closer.

“Mother! Get off her ri–”

“SILENCE!” Paul’s words were cut off as I saw his mouth shut in command. His eyes were immediately filled with betrayal and hurt when he realized that his mother used the voice on him. But his mother did not care at all, “Kneel and do not move” she commanded his son once more.

I looked at her as if she lost her mind. Perhaps she did.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, little one. For it is you who made me this way” she leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried to jerk away but couldn’t. The kiss practically seared my skin like molten lava.

She pulled a dagger from under her robes and then turned towards his son, a slave to her command.

“You know very well that I love you, Paul. But unfortunately for you, my love for Y/N weighs more heavy. I won’t let you have her. She is mine…only mine. And you will watch as I claim her.” her attention then went back to me as she sliced through my stillsuit and garments beneath it. I am now completely naked to her eyes. 

My head turned to Paul and saw the same panic set in his eyes. We were both sobbing and fearful of what was to come.

She laughed maliciously and roughly gripped my chin to look at her.

“Open your mouth” my breath hitched as I felt her voice crawl its way into my head. Not a second passed and my mouth opened.

“Take the gift of my water and you shall become one with me. Take it and you will be mine…forever.” she whispered before spitting into my mouth, “Swallow” she commanded before her lips descended against mine.

Her kiss was violent, forcing her tongue past my gritted teeth.

The tongue quickly found its way around my mouth and explored every inch. In parallel to that, her hands moved around and groped my breast. She slightly massaged them and pinched the erected nipples. It was not that the events aroused me. It was the cold that made my body like that. 

The kiss ended after a while, me being out of the air while the older woman was looking crazier than before. She licked her lips another time before stripping her garments away. She moved and kneeled in front of my face, her warmth being right on top of my face. "Pleasure me, little one." She commanded using the voice commanding voice and I immediately complied.

"Yes!" She started to move her body up and down, making her juice splash on my face. "Now, get that tongue of yours at work, beautiful girl," She ordered and once again tightened the grip, forcing me to obey her order. 

I had to stick my tongue forward, forced to have a taste of the older woman. It was sweet and I couldn't stop myself from moaning from the taste of her. She also moaned at the feeling of my tongue inside her and moved faster until she cummed in my mouth. 

Just as I was about to let go of a sigh, my left leg was lifted, Jessica’s right leg sliding under it. "It is not the end yet! I still have a lot of things I want to teach your body." She pushed her hip forward, making our center meet. 

I can't help but admit that it started to feel so good, so good that I failed to notice that I was no longer under the influence of the voice.

She repeated to thrush several more times, bringing our center together and making them part, and then collide again. She started to moan once again as I did the same, her hands starting to play with my breast, enjoying every contact through my body. Until my first orgasm was ripped from me this evening, followed by the beautiful temptress who laid on top of me while catching her breath from her release. 

She looked down at me in complete amusement as I lay helplessly underneath her. 

Jessica kissed the tip of my nose before sliding her warm body over me. She then began to touch me once more, and that was when I started to squirm a little. She moved her arms around my body, rubbing it in a very erotic way. "So beautiful! I can't help but masturbate thinking about you every day. And now, you are finally mine." She put a hand on my knee and began to gently stroke my leg.

Oh no... please no more...

"P--please... I can't. It's too much" 

I struggled as I tried to pull myself away from her, but my body is still weak from the drugged tea and pleasure.

"Shhhh... I know you can. Just give me one more, little one. I just need to taste you." 

She settled herself in between my legs, parting them by force. 

She reached between my legs and pushed something. It's her finger against my clit, causing my back to arch. "Oh!" I gasped, head falling back. "Oh, oh—" 

Jessica cupped my left breast and mouthed at it, kissing and licking. I didn't know where to look but into her eyes, trying my best not to follow the sound of a silently sobbing man. 

I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment but I was suddenly desperate to taste her lips. 

"Kiss me," I begged. "Please..." 

And she did. Soft and sweet, holding me to her. Tugging my lip with her teeth and stroking my back, my butt. She took hold of my legs, cupping the underside of my knees. Bringing my legs around her waist, she rocked against me, teasing my lip with her tongue. 

I parted my lips for her, tasting her, sighing... Jolting when she tugged on my nipple. "Oh, ow, owie—, please don't—" 

I cried out with pleasure. This was so nice; it felt so good. 

She smiled at me. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, my beloved,” she said, reaching to touch me, pulling back the hood of my clit so she could rub me with her thumb. I shivered. “Look at this tiny clit. So fucking adorable, and all mine…” 

She proceeded to slide down my body until she was face to face with my dripping warmth. 

I gasped when she started to lick me and felt my stomach twitch, surprised and excited at Reverend Mother’s eagerness to please me. I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lower lips and shuddered. A moment later, the older woman finally slid her tongue over my clit, and that's when I felt my walls clenching in a sudden spasm, screaming in pure pleasure for the second time. Due to the intensity, I blacked out.

-_-_-

A groan left my lips when I woke up, my body deliciously sore. 

Slightly stretching, that's when I realized that I was not alone.

To my left, Paul stood looking down at me. Tears stained his cheeks, eyes full of hatred.

“P-paul… I–”

“Silence! I don’t need your excuse. You and I are over” Paul spits his words with so much anger that it hurts.

“But Paul, it was your mother’s doing… I didn’t wa–”

“SILENCE”

The command surprised me into shock. Having the Reverend Mother use the voice on me seems to hurt less than having Paul do the same thing.

“You will not speak ill of the Reverend Mother. For she is the mother of your people’s chosen and now… your intended... for you two are fully bonded as one”

Paul’s words confused me greatly. Why would he say such a thing after everything his mother did in front of him? But my thoughts were then silenced when I saw a pair of hands rest on his shoulders. The Reverend Mother’s face appeared next to his.

“That’s enough, my son. I think my beloved has heard enough. You may take your leave” she calmly whispered.

Paul did what his mother asked but not before sparing me one last glance and whispered under his breath… I’m sorry… and now completely leaving me alone with a predator hungry for my flesh.

“What have you done to him?! Did you use your voice?!” I yelled accusingly, but she only laughed at this before kneeling beside my vulnerable form.

“No, Paul is simply being a good son. I raised him well, he knows to never go against my will. I brought him into this world and gave him his birthright, he owes me as much.” She smiled devilishly.

She looked down at me with a predatory grin before slowly tilting my chin with her finger to meet her eyes. 

It was so dark and full of lust that it felt like I was about to drown in it. 

"So here's what will happen from now on, you better listen carefully because everything that is attached to your existence will be at play if I don't get what I want, understood?" I weakly nodded, no longer having the will to fight back. 

"Good girl" Jessica praised before caressing my cheek. 

"You will surrender yourself to me and in time I know that you will so willingly. The more you take the gift of my water, the stronger our bond grows. In the meantime, you will be my obedient darling girl. Whatever I say, goes. Understood?" Her grip on my chin tightened, emphasizing how serious she was. 

"Ye-yes" I stuttered through gritted teeth. 

"If you behave like a good little girl for me, I will reward you with anything you desire, but if you disobey... You will learn that I won't go easy on my punishment. Since that's all settled then, time to quench my thirst." 

"W-with what?" I fearfully asked. 

The Reverend Mother smiled at me before leaning in close, her lips almost touching mine. 

"You."

[cat3ch1sm]

hii i think this is my first time requesting from you so hopefully I do it right..

can you do sfw headcannons of Hisoka, illumi, and Kurapika with an s/o who has a terrifying nen aura? like stronger and more menacing then theirs? and can you do gender neutral reader? thanks :]

🕷️~ hello!! welcome to my inbox 💚 thanks for your request! if you’re ever wondering what info to put in a request just view the pinned post on my profile! tyy <33

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) gn!reader, sfw

𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐤𝐚, 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚

hisoka

hisoka isn’t usually fazed by anyone’s aura because his own is so overpowering. his aura is just so eerie and unsettling that he never needs to pay any mind to anyone else’s because he’s usually the one people stay away from. but when you enter the picture, that all changes. the second you even enter a building every person in there is instantly weighed down by the darkness and menace of your aura, including hisoka, and he can’t help but feel fearful because that is simply the only emotion your aura allows anyone around it to feel. but fear doesn’t affect hisoka like it does other people. rather, he’s intrigued.

hisoka obviously has a thing for people who can kill him, so he likes to be around you just for the twisted euphoria he experiences of being actually genuinely scared. he knows that if you wanted to or he made one wrong move, that you could kill him in a second, and that fills him with an uncanny amount of pleasure. as a matter of fact, he’ll regularly push your boundaries just to feel the rush when your aura spikes. it’s like his favorite thing to do

illumi

okay let me just say you’ve gotta be pretty goddamn scary to overshadow an aura like illumi’s. even when he’s not trying he’s still scary as shit 🙏🏾

illumi isn’t someone who normally feels things like fear, anxiety, anything along those lines. but when he first encounters you, he can’t deny the overpowering sense of dread he’s filled with when he’s even near you. it’s not like he’s legitimately scared of you or anything, but it’s more like trepidation is literally forced into him. like he has no choice but to fear your aura. this is a brand-new thing to him, too- not even the phantom troupe or anyone in his family has such an awful presence. and to be honest, illumi doesn’t like having the tables turned on him- he’s usually the one people run away from and go out of their way to avoid.

i imagine he’d watch you from a distance for a while- either by having needle people go keep tabs on you or by constructing some other nen tactic so he can observe you. the dread that comes with being too close to you and that horrible aura is too much for him to handle for now, especially since like i said it’s a new feeling. i think only after illumi has watched you long enough to discover a weakness that he’s able to exploit would he go and approach you, so if you try and pull something illumi can have a better chance at taking you out.

illumi’s next thought, though, is to make an ally out of you- and what better way to do that than have you literally join his family? that’s what causes him to seek you out in a “romantic” way- his goal is literally immediately just to marry you so you become a zoldyck and can’t turn against him.

i feel like during the relationship illumi might be a bit distant for the reasons i listed earlier. also illumi just isn’t a clingy or affectionate person. with how powerful your nen is and the hostile nature of your aura illumi isn’t inclined to be near you often. basically you both just do your own thing, but illumi does keep tabs on you and still doesn’t let you see other people. not that anybody wants to because you’re scary but still😭

kurapika

realistically, i doubt kurapika would be with anyone whose aura is this horrible. it reminds him way too much of the spiders. and in his mind, nobody with an aura as ghastly as yours can mean anything good for anyone. plus, kurapika has destructive tendencies of his own, so having someone even worse than him around would not benefit him at all. so i think he’d want to stay far away from you, and would be protective of those around him when you’re near.

but because these are headcanons and we are supposed to be delusional, let’s say that kurapika isn’t immediately deterred by your nightmarish aura. his mind goes a similar route to illumi’s, so Kurapika is going to want to get you on his side for sure. he isn’t someone who approaches people that much, so he devises a situation in which you both can be alone so he can try and develop some sort of bond which you can build on.

usually Kurapika would be more protective than not of people he’s in a relationship with, but not with you. he kind of keeps his distance, actually. if you want to do something dangerous or deadly he just steps back and lets you. he doesn’t feel the need to protect you at all, more so like protecting other people from you lmao 😭

these were mid asf but it’s 2 am 💔 i hope u enjoyed <33

[pricelessemotion]

love is kinda crazy (with a spooky little boy like you) | E.M.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: [2.4k] eddie takes you on that halloween date. it doesn’t go quite like you expected.

warnings: pure fluff, a little awkward date shenanigans, r is described as having frizzy hair and wearing prescription glasses, r also has an (unnamed) sister

a/n: ah! i’ve been dying to write and post a part two for this fic since halloween and i thought there was no better time to post it than now! happy valentine’s day 🖤

masterlist | part one

“There, perfect!” Your sister punctuates the end of her makeover with the snap of her powder compact and the flourish of a makeup brush. 

You turn slowly, the pink cushioned stool a little wobbly under your unsteady frame. Your reflection looks comical, all blurred edges and wavy lines. Without your glasses, the bedroom vanity has turned into a funhouse mirror. 

“What does it matter if I’m going on a date with him if I can barely see him?”

You don’t need glasses to know that she’s rolling her eyes. Even though you can’t quite see her, you can hear her exasperation in the way she’s loudly chewing her gum. “You’re going to the movies, you’re barely gonna be able to see him anyway. Besides, you’ll be able to see him when he’s close enough to kiss and that’s the whole point.”

You blink each eye one at a time, trying to gauge which one is better. Your left eye is slightly clearer, though the difference is negligible. “I think you’re severely overestimating my eyesight.” 

“I think you’re severely underestimating my dating advice.” She blows a bubble, the view of her face becoming a bright pink smudge before it pops and she continues smacking. “Just trust me, it’ll all be fine.”

You do trust her. Even though she has spent the last two hours plucking and primping and preening, you want to take her advice. She’s not doing this to be condescending or controlling. She’s genuinely excited that you have a date, even more so that it’s with a living breathing human boy and not another library book. 

You don’t have much experience. With dating, with seeing someone, with kissing someone. What it means to be dating someone versus what it means to be seeing someone. What you’re supposed to do when you kiss someone. I mean, are your lips supposed to be on top of each other or are they supposed to interlock like the teeth of a zipper? Yeesh, you didn’t even wanna think about how teeth and tongues factor into the equation. 

These types of questions would usually be the kind that you would ask an older sister. You’ve just never had the bravery to say them out loud. Sure, you’ve watched romance movies and rewound and observed so much that you were afraid the tape in the VHS was going to break. And you’ve read enough romance that Ms. Marissa gives you side-eye when you pass the library’s reception desk. But there’s a difference between fiction and real life. A bridge you’ve yet to cross. You’re sure that you’re going to need all the help you can get.  

So, you heed her advice. You let her spray you with enough Aquanet to try to keep the flyaways at bay. You let her paint your lips with a shimmery pink lip gloss that isn’t too sticky and tastes like vanilla. You don’t, however, let her see you sneak the thick frames into your bag for emergencies. If it were up to her, the frames would be set out with Thursday’s garbage and you’d be wearing contacts like everyone else in your age group. 

She drops you off at The Hawk with another smack of her bubblegum and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. She barely waits for you to close the door of the station wagon before she’s speeding away, her Halloween plans including a keg, a pushup bra, and a slightly inebriated Steve Harrington. 

Eddie’s easy to spot. His silhouette sticks out against the brick building, white shirt, black leather, and blue denim against a red background. He lights up when he sees you and it’s the first time you’ve understood the meaning of the phrase. Since you can’t quite see his face clearly, you’re paying extra attention to his body. The way he pushes off the wall to stand tall. The way his shoulders visibly relax. You bet that they could see his smile all way in Indianapolis. 

“I know you’re usually supposed to give flowers on dates, but this is the best I could do.” 

He presents an origami paper flower in the shape of a rose. It’s made from binder paper, evident by the familiar feel of it in your hands. The folds are a bit unsure. There’s evidence of it being undone and folded again with a cleaner precision, you can feel the wear and tear on the paper with your fingertips. You’re dumbfounded. 

“Thank you,” You whisper, twirling the stem between your thumb and forefinger, watching the rosebud spin. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.” 

“Never?” He gapes at you in apparent disbelief before he schools his expression. “Well then, I’m glad to be the first.” He offers his arm to you like a real gentleman and you take it. 

The leather in the crook of his elbow is cold to the touch, but being in such close proximity you can feel the body heat radiating off of him. 

“It’s a continuous marathon, so they’re showing movies all night. We can start with any one that you want.” He gestures up to the marquee above the concession stand. When you look up to the sign, the words might as well be written in Cyrillic the way the letters all blur together. 

After a trip to the concessions stand, the two of you eventually settle on The Exorcist, which you had decided to cling to after Eddie’s nervous yet adorable rambling about which movie would be better to start with. 

Horror movies are even scarier when you can’t tell what’s going on. It didn’t occur to you how much you relied on sight to be able to mentally prepare for jump scares. Eddie must think you’re a total wimp the way you practically leap out of your seat at every flash on the silver screen that accompanies a discordant string of violins. 

You jump when you feel a hand brush your bicep, your arms flinging out. It’s much too late when you realize that intimate touch was Eddie trying to figure out if you were alright. The large Coke that Eddie had gotten–two straws because he said he didn’t wanna be presumptuous–the casualty of your fright. The flimsy lid pops off like it has nothing better to do and the dark brown liquid splashes over the arm of the seat right into Eddie’s lap. 

Eddie recoils, half-jumping and half-hovering in his seat because he just got a handful of ice-cold soda in his crotch. The people behind you are jeering, grumbling about the disturbance and Eddie half-whispers fucking shit under his breath, in what you’re sure must be a mixture of disdain and disgust.  

You pull napkins out of your purse and thrust them in Eddie’s direction before rushing out of the theater, chest heaving and eyes stinging. 

It’s a wonder you don’t trip and fall on your way out. You’ve walked these dimly lit halls hundreds of times, so luckily instinct and muscle memory win out and you make it out of the theater mostly unscathed, just with a few bruises on each shoulder. Nothing compared to the mortification of what had happened inside. 

Because it’s October in Indiana and you can’t seem to catch a break, it’s raining. Only every so slightly, but enough that you’d be soaked to the bone if you walked home thanks to your sister’s insistence that you dress for fashion and not function. You huddle close to the payphone, pondering if you have enough change to call around and get your sister to pick you back up because no way are you waking up your parents for this. 

The doors to the theater creak open behind you and suddenly you’re not alone anymore. The biting cold chills you to the bone but it’s Eddie’s presence behind you that sets you on fire. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

Maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last hour and a half in the dark with your nerves on edge, but the tenderness in Eddie’s voice makes your throat constrict. 

“I’m sorry,” You blubber. “I’m so embarrassed. I just wanted everything to be perfect and I ruined it.” 

“Hey. Hey.” Eddie repeats himself more forcefully when you don’t meet his gaze the first time, “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just a little soda. I’ll live.” 

His fingers rub the back of your hands in a soothing motion. Back and forth, thumbs caressing the valleys between your knuckles. He’s close enough that his features are almost in focus. You still have to squint. 

“You keep doing that.” He points his fingers toward your furrowed brow before mimicking the action on his own face. The finger is not accusatory, it just seems like Eddie likes to talk with his hands. 

You sigh, a resigned and weary sound. “My sister convinced me that I shouldn’t wear my glasses.” 

Eddie makes a face that you can’t quite discern in the dark before letting out a soft hmph! “Your sister kinda sounds a little mean.” 

“She means well.” You defend, weakly. You love your sister to death but there are times that your differences become much too apparent and that leaves you with nothing to do but suffer the consequences. This is one of those times. 

“Did you bring them with you?” 

“Yeah,” You reach into your bag, finding the frames folded into one of the inner pockets. 

Eddie takes them and puts them on you. “You keep doing that.” You murmur, a repeat of his earlier accusation. Now, though, you both know it’s in reference to him adjusting your glasses not just once but twice. 

“It gives me an excuse to be close to you.” 

You can see him with unrelenting clarity now. The little crinkles next to his eyes as he smiles warmly down at you. The way the slight breeze has carried the miserable drizzle under the theater awning. The way that drizzle clings to his curly hair like dewdrops on morning grass. You almost robbed yourself of all of this, and for what? Eddie knows what you look like. 

“Y’know what I thought when I saw you yesterday?” Yesterday, when you had been wearing a witch hat on top of your frizzy hair and the same Coke bottle glasses that sit on the slope of your nose now. “I thought that you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I thought I made a fool outta myself and that you wouldn’t give me the time of day, not in a million years.” 

“The whole scaredy cat schtick was quite endearing I must say.” 

He nods seriously, just a slight hint of a smirk on his face. “I try my best.” 

You look down at the seat of his pants. Sure enough, there’s a dark stain splashed right across his crotch.“Oh god. I'm so sorry. Again” 

“What did I tell you about apologizing?”

“You didn’t say anything about apologizing.” 

“Well then, this is me saying something. Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“It looks like you pissed yourself,” You wail mournfully. 

“Well, that definitely makes me feel better.” Eddie jests before he tugs you into his chest and plants his chin on top of your head. 

You nuzzle your face into his sternum, appreciating the soft hiss he lets out when your cold nose touches his warm skin. You inwardly groan because, quite frankly, there’s nothing more embarrassing than running out of a nearly full movie theater the way that you did. The only thing more embarrassing than that, you think, is going back inside after having embarrassed yourself. You tell Eddie as much, with the reassurance that you don’t want the date to end and if he really wants to, you can go back inside and finish the movie. He’s already tugging you toward his van that’s parked on the other side of the street, saying the six words that make your night:

“I own The Exorcist on VHS.”

You spend the entire time back in the trailer park cuddled up having quiet conversation about gory practical effects over a bowl of microwaved popcorn. The closest he gets to kissing you is when you duck into his chest to hide and his lips brush your temple. He could’ve lived off of that single brush for the rest of his life if he had to. 

When Eddie pulls up to your house later that night, he really does mean to give you an innocent kiss goodnight. The neighborhood is quiet, seeing as it’s probably been an hour since the children of Hawkins had fallen into their sugar-induced comas. He turns the engine off and shifts towards you, his smile both giddy and shy while he tells you that he had a really good time tonight. You mirror his expression and tell him the same. You both lean forward, chests rising and falling in tandem, noses brushing. 

When you finally make it past the front door, your lips are swollen and your glasses are fogged up. You kick off your shoes and pad up the carpeted steps two at a time, racing to your bedroom window. When you turn on your lamp and look out to the tree-lined street, Eddie waves at you, his rings glinting in the streetlight. You wave back, watching the van disappear into the distance. 

“Hey,” Your sister is leaning against the doorframe, smiling like the cat who got the cream.

“How’d it go?” You’re already slightly aware of the answer since she’s standing in front of you with a freshly washed face and hand-me-down pajamas instead of in an empty house in Loch Nora. 

She shrugs noncommittally, “It was a bust.” 

You hum in solemn solidarity, trying to tug the grin on your face into a much more situationally appropriate neutral expression. You feel for her and you don’t want to rub it in her face that you had such a good time, despite her advice. Unfortunately, you do not seem to have as much control over your facial muscles as you think you do. Your sister sees right through you, grabbing the purple throw pillow at the foot of the bed and launching it at your face telling you to shut up. You catch it before it has the chance to hit you, huffing with righteous indignation at her before the two of you collapse onto the bed in muffled laughter. 

“So, how’d it go?” She whispers in your direction, mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall. 

You trace your cupid’s bow, feeling the chapped and swollen skin for the hundredth time that night. You turn your head toward hers, readjusting your glasses when they slide down your nose. 

“It was perfect.” 

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished 🖤

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 21

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: have a wonderful day!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gate bell buzzes and you rush from the kitchen to answer, the porcelain clinking as you leave it in the sink. You flit into the hall and to the entryway. As you pull the door open, you sense a shadow and turn to see Laufeyson at the top of the stairs. He watches but does not speak. You waver before you find the strength to continue on.

You shut the door gently and try to breathe through your rattling nerves. You don't understand what's going on. The words Laufeyson said still don't make sense to you. He can't mean what you think. You have to be overthinking. Yet the tickle of his touch remains on your skin and fuels your doubts.

How can you say no to him? If you do, he might say the same...

You repress a shudder as you reach the gate and hold the button to roll it back. Ronan steers through in his truck, pulling in just behind Laufeyson's flashy ivory car. You let the gate close and approach the truck bed as the carpenter climbs out.

"Miss," he opens the rear door to grab his bag, "you look nice, special occasion?"

You look down at yourself and wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt. It's sunny but it isn't the weather that has you fired up. You force a smile that makes your cheeks twitch.

"Uh, no, they're just...new," you sway as you push your hands behind you, "erm, so I guess... you should get started."

"I should," he checks his watch, a thick leather band with a tarnish face, "I hate to get in the way of your work. Or ruin your fancy clothes."

"Oh, uh, it's not... I'll bring you some water," you offer.

"Hmm," he hums as he shuts the door, "you're too kind for your own good. Nice to see you doing something for yourself for a change."

"I..." you swallow the truth. "Thanks."

"Not that you didn't look good before," he insists.

"Well, I..." you murmur, looking away bashfully.

"I'm talking a lot," he chuckles, "you know where I'll be."

He turns and stalks off towards the house. You blow out a breath as your eyes are drawn to the front door. Mr. Laufeyson stands in the frame, again observing you, his gaze narrowed to slits. He reminds you of a snake in coil about to strike.

The door shuts before you can reach it. You enter and he's gone. It's like some game. You return to the kitchen to finish tidying up the porcelain from tea. You set it away in the glass cabinet and fill a fresh jug of water. As you place it on the patio, Frigga pops her head up from the roses, a healthy bouquet in hand as she snips the stems with a pair of cutters.

"These will be nice in the dining room," she suggests as she shows the white petals, "Maybe a few for the study?"

"Uh, yeah," you plunk down the pitcher and glass. "Did you need any water? This is for the carpenter."

"Oh, he's here?" She says, "I didn't see him. Perhaps I can ask him about the flower boxes."

"Yeah, uh, maybe," you agree, "I'll be, er, upstairs working. Got a lot to catch up on from yesterday."

"No worries at all, darling," she assures you.

You retreat and stumble to get your shoes off once more, mindful of the rules. That's the problem. Everyone is forgetting the rules. Ronan does the gazebo not the flower boxes, you don't wear your shoes in the house, and Loki-- Mr. Laufeyson is just your boss.

You rush up the stairs, nearly too at a time, and reach the top out of breath. You hurry into the library and close yourself up inside. It's just you. It strikes you how much you missed being alone. These last few weeks have felt so crowded. Constricted even.

You finally make yourself sit still. You find it hard not to wriggle in the seat as you watch the laptop screen load. It feels so long ago that you did this. It's all backwards and you don't like it. You like clear lines. You are separate from Mr. Laufeyson. You are below. You have your tasks and he has more important concerns.

You focus on balancing his bills. There are a lot of outstanding invoices. You're still learning how to keep it all organized. You feel a bit out of your depth with all the numbers but you excelled at math all those years before.

A subtle click barely registers but nestles in your ear. You squint at the screen as you watch a tutorial on Excel functions. You're still figuring that out too.

"The carpenter has been dealt with?" Mr. Laufeyson states as much as he asks.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you confirm and pause the video. You glance behind him at the open door to his study.

"Very good," he says, "he will work faster without distraction."

You nod. You take his point. He is right. It might be better that the project is finished sooner than later. There's a big enough mess, the type you don't know how to clean up.

He strides around the library, perusing the shelves as if they are new to him. He feels along the spines of books and drags his fingers along the wood. You watch him, waiting. For what, you don't know.

"Don't let me distract you," he says without looking at you as he slides out a volume. "As you were."

Your eyes flick down obediently. You try to refocus but forget where you were. You open the ledger to make notes as you restart the video. You can sense him lurking around the room, closer and closer as his silhouette blurs the edge of your vision.

The narrator continues their instruction as you open the transcript to follow along. Mr. Laufeyson inches closer and closer, walking just behind your laptop, then around one side of your desk before doubling back. Again, he looms behind the screen and strolls along the other side. And at once, he's behind you.

You tense as you feel him watching over your head. You keep your hand moving as you take notes, writing down words you don't process. Your pulse thrums in your temples as you feel him leaning over you. His hands rest on your shoulders and he kneads them as you sit frozen.

He bends further and further until you feel his breath on your crown. He nuzzles your hair as his hands trail slowly across your shoulders. They close loosely around your neck as he exhales with a groan. Just like the one you heard earlier.

You gulp against his grip as your pen stills and you stare blankly at the screen, the narrator hazing to a drone and the colours fogging together. You drop the pen and drag your hand up to touch his. He tuts as he lowers his head next to yours, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks.

"I didn't say stop," he slithers as heat scalds over you.

You shiver and remove your hand from his, reaching for the pen instead. You pick it up, trembling as you try to read your own writing, your chin pressing to his knuckle as he tightens his hold on you. It's just scribbles, broken lines and squiggled waves.

"Notice too, you did not either," he whispers against the shell of your ear and draws away, all once releasing you. 

You gasp as he swiftly side steps and strides across the room. He retrieves the volume from the shelf and reclines across the chaise, lazily opening the pages with a sigh. You stare at him as he lingers, engrossing himself in the book as you forget all about the spreadsheets and negative balances.

👠

Mr. Laufeyson leaves without a word. A taunt in its own right. He’s toying with you impeccably. His every move, his every glance, even something as careless as breathing is a statement. He’s watching. He’s waiting. For something…

Your frustration boils over and you snap shut the lid of the laptop. You haven’t been able to focus since his intrusion. The weight of his hands on your throat remains even with him gone. At moments, it feels as if you are truly being strangled.

You get up and resign yourself to something less complicated. You near the door and stop to peek at the one attached to the study. It’s open still but you wouldn’t think to peer through it. Is he there still? Listening? Expecting something?

You go into the hall and descend, each step expecting Laufeyson to call you back, to reproach you for straying. You reach the bottom without obstacle and exhale. You hear noise in the kitchen and follow it.

Frigga is there, placing a rectangle tray on the counter. She is comfortable as she moves around lightly. She knows where everything is as she arranges her ingredients and tools. You admire her. You wish you had that confidence, especially now as you drown in uncertainty.

“Oh, darling, wonderful timing,” she praises as she looks up, “I thought to do some cooking before I go. I’m sure you know Loki is rather avoidant of doing so himself. Why don’t you join, hm?”

You blink and hesitate, glancing over your shoulder. It isn’t exactly work. 

“Don’t you fret for him, if he has issue, I will take it up with him,” she dismisses your unspoken doubts. “Come, come, I want to share with you my best recipes.”

“Okay,” you cross to her. She is undeniable, besides, you don’t think Laufeyson would be pleased to hear if you were to reject his mother. 

“Beer-marinated pork,” she announces, “roasted turnip and some hand-made bread, of course.”

You nod and twiddle your fingers. You’ve never had beer-marinated anything. Well, your culinary experience is lacking.

“Family recipes,” she explains, “adapted over the years. There was a time the bread was baked on rocks and the turnip would be roasted over embers. Imagine.”

She trills and spins around, gathering more supplies for her growing array. As she faces the counter again, she sighs.

“I much rather prefer the modern methods, of course. Not so tedious and Loki has ensured the best,” she goes to the stacked ovens embedded in the wall and sets the temperature, leaving the upper one to preheat. “A pity, such a nice kitchen and it’s barely used. That cook of his… she doesn’t know our recipes.”

You listen, too anxious to summon any sort of comment. She doesn’t seem to notice as she carries the conversation smoothly. 

“Do you cook? You must,” she answers her own question, “we will make enough for you to take home for your father. If he can’t stomach beer, I can make a sauce.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s okay–”

“I insist,” she overrides you, “it’s a labour of love for me. I love cooking. That is the one thing Sif– his ex-wife wasn’t fond of. She was always at the stable.”

You nod, trying to unravel the story from the stray threads. Little by little, you learn more of the woman who used to live here. In your head, she is sophisticated and splendid. And the way the speak of her, they seem to mourn her as much as you do your own mother.

“We will need onion and some spices, we’ll mix it in with the beer for our marinade,” she instructs, “a bowl…” she turns to take a silver bowl from the nested stack.

She puts it before you and directs you. She stands back as she lets you do it yourself. It’s nice to have the simple tasks set out one by one, even if it feels as if she’s judging your every move. You submerge the pork chops to marinate and she turns your attention to the turnip.

“Be careful chopping, turnips can be difficult,” she girds.

You shy away from the large knife and the hard rutabaga. It’s not easy to saw through as you rock the knife this way and that. You only get halfway through before the blade sticks immovably.

“Allow me,” she takes over and with a jerk, finishes the chop. The turnip splits in two as the knife meets the thick cutting board. “A bit of elbow grease…”

“Mother, what are you up to?” Laufeyson enters with a hand in one pocket.

“Oh, you know, dear, I can’t leave you without dinner.”

“I have a cook,” he counters.

“Mmm, yes, but nothing like a homemade meal,” she tisks.

He looks at you as he nears. You wipe your hands on a dish cloth and wring it tight. Frigga continues on unbothered, turning one half of the turnip on its flat side and chopping it into chunks.

“She’s helping,” she says, “please don’t take her from me.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he shrugs, his lips slightly curving.

“You were thinking it,” she huffs, “she can take some time to cook. Perhaps, she should do so regularly. It would save you money.” 

“But not time. She has other tasks.”

“You being the most onerous,” Frigga chirps as she transfers the chunks into the pan.

“Perhaps,” he does not look away from you as you twist the dish cloth to its limit. He slips his hand from his pocket and lets it brush up his shirt, “I am what you raised me to be.”

“I was saying to the darling earlier,” she ignores his snipe, “the next time you visit, you might bring her along.”

“Eh, next time…” Laufeyson swallows as his lips fall straight, “maybe…”

“You are going to visit, aren’t you?” Frigga whines, “you and your father, I don’t know why you just can’t get along.”

“I tried, mother, I did. You saw–” he stops himself, “it doesn’t matter.”

“It does. Very much. You’re family.”

“Are we? He’s disowned me more than he’s ever claimed me.”

“You’re too much alike, that’s your problem,” she chides, “and you’re both too stubborn to see it.”

“We will discuss this another time,” he says as he peeks at you again, “in private.”

“Should I…” you begin.

“Stay,” Frigga and her son command at the same time.

“I’m not sending her home empty-handed,” Frigga says, “so you will drive her home, yes? It will be too much to take on the bus.”

“Why, of course,” he accepts, “it would be my pleasure.”

“Mm, and the carpenter, he fixed the flower boxes already. A few loose nails,” she grins, “nice man, that one. I might recommend him to your father.”

Laufeyson pokes his tongue out as he squints. He turns his gaze back on you. You miss when he barely looked at you, when he hardly even acknowledged your existence. And yet, you're just the same. You can't say a word.

“I haven’t dealt with him much,” he says pointedly, “that is the house manager’s concern.”

“Probably better off,” Frigga snickers, “she won’t drive him away.”

[lou-0111]

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love)

y/n doesnt believe in love, taylor, their best friend (who knows their view on love) tries to convince that luke would be a great boyfriend for them: bit of a long one today - 3.4k words

Love is stupid, ok? It’s pointless and there is absolutely no need for it. And no, It’s not just because I've had bad experiences, it’s the whole thing. Girls changing themselves for the boy they like. Boys being mean to people to get girls attention, the whole thing is just stupid.

If there's a prize for rotten judgement I guess I've already won that

I feel like I’ve made a series of poor decisions in my life, each one heavier than the last. This pattern of regret and self-reproach feels like it’s consuming me from within. It's become almost second nature to make mistakes because I've fallen into the habit of making them, and each misstep adds to the weight of my past errors.

No man is worth the aggravation

No guy at Camp Half-Blood is worth going through that emotional turmoil again. It’s simply easier to avoid falling in love altogether. The past is full of lessons learned—the kind where you thought you'd finally moved on, only to find yourself trapped in the same old cycles. The gods had their trials, and there's no need for us to repeat their mistakes.

That's ancient history, been there, done that

This happened to the gods in the past, it shouldn't be repeating with us again

Who d'you think you're kiddin'? He's the earth and heaven to you

“Y/N, you have to listen to me on this.” My best friend, Taylor starts, “Luke would be the perfect boyfriend for you. First, he’s genuinely kind-hearted. It’s not just something he puts on for show—he’s consistently thoughtful and considerate in everything he does. You’ve seen it yourself, right? How he interacts with everyone around him, always making sure people are okay and that they’re feeling included.

And let’s talk about his skills—he’s an exceptional swordsman. His dedication and proficiency with a sword are impressive.

But it’s not just about physical skills. Luke is amazing with the younger campers. He’s got this natural ability to connect with them, to mentor them, and to make them feel important. He treats them with such patience and respect. You know how much that matters, seeing someone who doesn’t just see the younger kids as a burden but genuinely enjoys helping them grow.

So, don’t let your past experiences cloud your judgement about him. Luke isn’t just another face in the crowd; he’s someone who genuinely fits what you need in your life. It’s worth considering that maybe, just maybe, he could be the one who changes your perspective on love.”

Everyday, every damn day, Taylor goes on about how me and Luke would be great together. But I don’t see it. Love is stupid, Taylor is stupid for thinking I like him.

Try to keep it hidden Honey, we can see right through you (Oh, no) Girl, you can't conceal it We know how you're feelin', who you're thinkin' of

We were walking back from training one day when again, she started the whole luke chat. “Y/N, I need to be real with you here. It’s becoming impossible to ignore how you keep watching Luke. You spend hours just observing him as he trains. It's not just casual glances; you’re practically mesmerised by how he moves with such skill and focus. Every time he picks up his sword, there’s this look in your eyes that I can’t ignore.”

Excuse me? He’s the best swordsman at camp, obviously I'm going to watch him, to get pointers on how to get better, nothing else. 

“And it’s not just during training. When Luke interacts with the younger campers, your attention is entirely on him. You’ve seen how he takes the time to teach them, to encourage them, and how he genuinely connects with them on their level. You watch him as he patiently helps them learn and grow, and there’s this soft, almost admiring look on your face. It’s clear that you’re moved by how he treats them with such kindness and care.” “I just think it’s sweet how he takes his time teaching them, nothing more, I'd be the same way if anyone else did what he does.”

“I know you’re trying to play it cool and act like it doesn’t matter, but let’s be honest—your feelings are showing. It’s like you’re trying to hide behind this façade that love isn’t worth it or that you’re not interested, but it’s obvious to everyone around us. We all see how your face lights up when he’s around, how you hang onto his every word and action.”

“Woah, you need to slow down, someone might hear you, my face doesn't ‘light up’ ok Tay? I’m a listener, sorry if i listen when people talk to me, I don’t like luke, never have, never will.”

Stop denying it. We can see right through you. It’s not just about admiring him from a distance; it’s about the way you light up when you talk about him or when he’s in the room. Your actions are screaming that you have feelings for him, even if you’re trying to convince yourself otherwise. It’s ok if you like him, if you’re in love, it’ll be good to put your heart out again.”

Where my heart can get hurt again. I mumble walking away. I do not like Luke.

You swoon, you sigh Why deny it? Uh-oh It's too cliché (Ah-ah-ah-ah) I won't say I'm in love

Being in love feels like a foolish, unnecessary risk to me. It’s as if admitting that I’m in love would be an act of surrender, a sign of weakness. I keep telling myself that I don’t need a man to complete my life or make me happy. My independence has always been my strength, and the idea of falling for someone seems like it would undermine that strength.

I’ve managed perfectly well on my own, navigating life without relying on anyone else to validate my worth or fill a void. I’ve built my own stability and happiness through my own efforts, and I’m proud of that. The thought of opening myself up to love feels like an invitation to vulnerability and potential heartbreak, and I’m not ready to risk that.

Admitting that I’m in love would mean acknowledging that I need someone, and that’s something I’m determined to avoid. I don’t want to be in a position where my happiness depends on another person’s actions or feelings. I’ve seen how love can complicate things, how it can lead to disappointment and pain. It’s easier to stay detached and focus on myself rather than deal with the unpredictability of a romantic relationship.

I keep convincing myself that I’m better off without the emotional upheaval that love often brings. I’m self-sufficient and capable, and I don’t need anyone else to complete me or make me feel whole. Embracing love feels like it would disrupt the balance I’ve carefully created in my life. So, I put up a wall and tell myself that I’m not in love and that I don’t need a man to be content. It’s a way of protecting myself from the potential pain that comes with opening my heart.

I thought my heart had learned its lesson It feels so good when you start out (Ah) My head is screaming, "Get a grip, girl" "Unless you're dyin' to cry your heart out" 

I won’t put myself through that again. I’ve been burned too many times by love to let it happen once more. Each time I’ve opened my heart in the past, I’ve ended up disappointed and hurt. The cycle seems to repeat itself with every relationship I’ve been in: the initial charm and allure give way to a painful reality that shatters the illusion.

Every guy I've been with starts off presenting the best version of themselves—perfectly polished, attentive, and seemingly sincere. They act like they’re everything I’ve ever wanted, showing me a side that makes me believe in the possibility of a true connection. But as time goes on, it’s like a switch flips, and suddenly, they’re no longer the person I thought they were. The transformation happens so swiftly and so completely that it feels like a betrayal. One day, everything seems perfect, and the next, I’m left grappling with someone who’s changed overnight.

It’s as though these men wear masks, carefully crafted to win me over, only to discard them once they’ve achieved their goal. The facade falls away, revealing a reality that’s often disappointing and disheartening. I’ve come to expect that this pattern will repeat itself because it always has. Each time, my trust and hope are eroded, and it becomes harder to believe that someone can truly be genuine.

I’ve reached a point where my heart simply can’t handle any more of this emotional turbulence. The pain of investing my emotions into someone who ends up disappointing me is too much to bear. The cycle of hope and heartbreak has left me exhausted and wary. I’m trying to shield myself from further damage, to protect my heart from the predictable cycle of rising expectations followed by crushing disillusionment. The idea of putting myself through that kind of emotional rollercoaster again feels unbearable. So, I shut down, convinced that avoiding love is the best way to preserve my peace and prevent further pain.

You keep on denying Who you are and how you're feeling Baby, we're not buying Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling (Oh, no) Face it like a grown-up When ya gonna own up That you got, got, got it bad?

"Y/N, It’s becoming impossible for anyone who knows you to ignore the signs. Your reactions when he’s near, the way you talk about him—it all points to something deeper than just friendship or admiration. You might be trying to downplay it or act like it’s not a big deal, but everyone can see it. We all notice how you light up when he’s mentioned or how you subtly seek out opportunities to be around him.

"Well why don't you go out with him? Since you notice every small detail about him."

You’re not fooling anyone with your attempts to mask your feelings. The way you talk about him, how your mood shifts when he’s mentioned—these are all clear indicators that your feelings for Luke run deeper than you’re willing to admit. It’s written all over your face and in your actions. It’s not just a small crush or a fleeting interest; it’s something more significant, something you’re clearly struggling to acknowledge.

So why keep pretending? It’s okay to have feelings for someone, especially someone like Luke. The sooner you accept and embrace your feelings, the easier it will be to figure out what to do next. Hiding behind this facade of indifference only makes it harder for you to deal with the truth." "Taylor, I cannot keep having this convosation with you, it's getting on my nerves, please just drop it." I'm never falling in love, with anyone.

(Shoo, shoo-doo, doo-doo) No chance, no way I won't say it, no, no Give up, give in Check the grin, you're in love This scene won't play I won't say I'm in love You're doin' flips (Ooh-ooh) Read our lips, you're in love

The idea of opening myself up to another relationship feels like an invitation to endure more pain. The thought of investing my emotions again, only to face the inevitable disappointment, is almost too overwhelming to consider. My heart has reached its limit; it feels battered and fragile from past letdowns. The fear of another heartbreak is paralysing, making it hard to even entertain the idea of risking my emotional well-being once more.

I want to protect myself from the cycle of hope and disillusionment that has characterised my past experiences with love. The emotional toll has been significant, and I’m desperately trying to shield myself from further damage. The prospect of enduring another emotional upheaval is daunting, and my heart simply can’t handle the strain of another potential letdown. "Y/N, I know you don't like talking about it, but I csn't help it. Why csn't you see it? We’ve all see how you blush every single time you talk about Luke. It’s not just a subtle thing—your cheeks practically light up, and there’s this undeniable warmth in your voice. It’s impossible to ignore the way your eyes sparkle when his name comes up or how your entire demeanour shifts to something more animated and bright.

And let’s not forget how you watch him during mealtimes. It’s like you’re drawn to him in a way that’s hard to miss. You’re always glancing over at him, whether he’s chatting with the others, helping out with the food, or just enjoying a moment with his friends. You might think you’re being discreet, but it’s so obvious to everyone around. The way you steal glances and the way your gaze lingers just a little too long—these aren’t things you can easily brush off.

Trying to deny your feelings for Luke doesn’t change the reality of the situation. Your reactions and behaviour make it clear to all of us what you’re trying to ignore. We see through the act of nonchalance you’re putting on. It’s not just a case of mild interest; it’s something deeper. We can tell that you’re emotionally invested, even if you’re not ready to admit it to yourself.

It’s time to face the truth about your emotions. The more you try to suppress or deny them, the more obvious it becomes to everyone around you. There’s no need to hide or pretend anymore."

Taylor says before walking off.

I keep convincing myself that nothing will come of this, and that denying my feelings will make it all go away. I’m certain that nothing will happen between us, and so I refuse to acknowledge my true emotions.

Despite my best efforts to conceal my feelings, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore them. I try to pretend otherwise, but my actions and reactions betray me. Deep down, I think I’m in love, but I can’t bring myself to say it.

You're way off base (Shoo-doo, shoo-doo) I won't say it (She won't say it, no) Get off my case (Sha-da, sha-da) I won't say it (Ooh-ooh-ooh)

I’m adamant about not admitting my feelings. It’s a protective mechanism to avoid vulnerability and potential heartache. I want to be left alone to keep my emotions private.

Girl, go be proud It's okay, you're in love

Admitting my feelings would mean exposing myself to the possibility of heartache, and I’m not ready to take that risk. The emotional turmoil that follows when feelings aren’t reciprocated, or when they lead to disappointment, is something I’m determined to avoid. I’ve learned from past experiences that letting my guard down can lead to deep, sometimes overwhelming pain. By keeping my feelings to myself, I maintain a sense of control and safety, shielding my heart from potential harm.

I want to be left alone to keep my emotions private because it feels like the only way to maintain my emotional stability. Sharing my feelings would mean inviting scrutiny and potentially having to navigate the complexities of another person’s reactions and responses. It’s easier to keep everything internal, to process my emotions in solitude where I can control the narrative and avoid the unpredictability of others' reactions.

This private handling of my emotions is a means of self-preservation. It’s my way of creating a barrier between myself and the risk of emotional pain. The prospect of vulnerability, of exposing my inner thoughts and feelings, is daunting and unsettling. So, I prefer to keep my emotions hidden, managing them in the confines of my own mind where I can protect myself from the uncertainty and potential hurt that comes with opening up to others.

However, Taylor did not agree with my choices.

"Listen, Y/N, it’s really important for you to understand something: it’s completely okay to embrace your feelings. Love, as complicated and intimidating as it can be, is not something to be ashamed of or to hide from.

You deserve to be happy. If you have feelings for Luke, acknowledging them doesn’t make you weak or foolish—it makes you human.

There’s no shame in being vulnerable; it’s a sign of strength and courage. It’s a step towards allowing yourself to experience love and all the happiness that can come with it.

Hiding from your feelings or pretending they don’t exist only prolongs the emotional struggle and prevents you from fully engaging with the positive aspects of life."

"Yeah, whatever Tay, I'll see you later."

She raises her eyes at me, noticing I don't tell her to shut up about the topic.

At least, out loud I won't say I'm in love

It feels ridiculous to admit that I might be in love. I’ve convinced myself that I don’t need a man to be happy and that I’m fine on my own. Declaring my feelings feels like an invitation to heartbreak, something I’ve vowed to avoid.

I do have feelings for Luke. I’ve come to realise that I am in love with him, but I can't bring myself to openly acknowledge it. I’ll keep these emotions to myself, hidden away where I can manage them privately.

Who knows, maybe one day I'll tell him?

Doubt it.

[jaylaxies]

BOYFRIEND!JUNGWON HEADCANONS

pairing: jungwon × fem!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 531 words!

a/n: hihii! it’s my first time posting something sfw, i hope you guys like it! it was requested by anonnie (here), all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated <3

He knows exactly how to get you flustered—by pecking you on random occasions. You could be talking and he’d lean in to press his lips upon yours for barely just a second before he steps back to observe your shocked expression with a goofy smile.

Wonie loves to surprise you with gifts and he’s extra attentive when it comes to your likes and dislikes. He’d probably have every single thing noted down in his notes app just to prevent accidentally forgetting even the minute things about you. Your favourite colour? He knows it. Favourite flowers? He’ll get you those. Favourite book? He’ll read it just so he can have you discuss it with him, excitement clear on your face. And your favourite person? That’ll always be him.

He waits right by your side when you cook, giggling when you ask him to taste a spoonful of the dish but not before you blow on it and feed him yourself, holding a hand under his chin, only to see his eyes go wide with how good it tastes.

His face quite literally lights up whenever you text him, it can be something as small as a “good morning” to as big of a paragraph of you describing something which reminded you of Wonie, he’s gonna love it, especially when he always makes sure to send you updates about his entire day.

He won’t let you go to sleep before kissing your forehead. During the times you fall asleep on his shoulder, he makes sure not to move just so your sleep doesn’t get disturbed, and even then he’ll make sure to lean in and give a featherlight kiss to your temple, giving you soft head pats or playing with your hair right after.

Nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck whenever you’re hugging or cuddling, because it feels comfortable. He’s almost like a cat, craving for affection and he’s the happiest when you provide him with your undivided attention.

It’s the little things he does, which includes not letting you walk on the edge simply because he wants you to be safe, not to mention how he’ll make sure to have your fingers intertwined whenever you walk together.

Wonie likes to randomly take pictures of you when he takes you out to eat, it doesn’t matter if it’s a snack or a whole meal because the way you take a bite and look his way which is followed by you giving him your brightest smile, which he’d capture, his gummy smile accompanying yours, saying how you’re too cute to not be captured every few minutes.

It doesn’t matter if you’re talking, laughing, cuddling, eating, or simply breathing, he’s going to find every single thing about you adorable, and he’d make it his mission to verbally tell you that you look cute, just to see a shy smile gracing your face.

Staying awake till four AM, talking about every single thing that comes to his mind because he feels free with you, wanting to express his emotions and get to know about your thoughts about even the littlest thing such as your opinions on his new playlist he made for you.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

taglist: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu

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