#you can send requests for other characters if you fancy :]

[jellomphetamine]

i made cute icons for my playlists a while ago and thought i might as well post them :P theyre CUTE

use if you like, credit is appreciated!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

💝 twst 2024 valentine gift message compilation 🎁

Yes, it’s that time of year again—

For preliminary information on what this is, please check out this post!

This year’s messages came printed on a coffin-shaped piece of paper. (The back of it is shown in the image above.)

The common theme underlying all of the messages is that the sender (you!) gifted the character a fragrance.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Riddle

My dear friend—

Thank you for your gift.

I’m not an expert, but I once read

that this type of thing can help with

relaxation. I’ll certainly try it out

soon. I’ll make you herbal tea

sometime as a token of my

gratitude.

Trey

Hello, friend—

Thank you for the lovely gift. I’ve

been busy lately, so it’s nice to have

something to help me relax. You’re

always going the extra mile for

everyone around you. I’ll bring some

homemade sweets over soon to say

thanks, okay?

Cater

Eeey, friendo!

Thanks for the totes ‘Cammable

gift! It looks nice, AND it’s got a

fragrance that’s right up Cay-Cay’s

alley. I’m super excited for the

gift-back, and hope you are, too!

I’m gonna get you something you’ll

be amped to post about on

Magicam.

Ace

Heya, pal—

I never thought you’d get me

something so fancy! It’s got just the

kind of scent I like. You’ve got

perfect taste. I’m gonna use it

soon—thanks! As for what to give

you in return, well… Got any

requests? Just don’t go too

overboard.

Deuce

My good friend—

Thanks for the gift! I didn’t think

it’d be something so fancy. You’ve

got a good eye for this stuff, Prefect!

It’s nice having a fresh scent in my

room to help me focus when I’m

studying! Wait until you see what

grade I get on my next test.

Leona

Hey—

Allow me to thank you for your

generous gift. Heh. Can’t believe

you actually picked out a halfway

decent fragrance. I might actually

keep this. I thought about sending

you something in return if the mood

struck me, but this thank-you note

should do the job just fine, right?

Ruggie

Hey—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t buy

things that aren’t absolute

necessities, so it’s nice getting

something like this. Don’t get me

wrong, though. I’m REALLY not

picky when it comes to people

giving me presents, so feel free to

keep giving me whatever you like!

Jack

Hi.

Thanks for the gift.

This is the kind of subtle fragrance I

can see myself using. I don’t like

being indebted to others, so I’ll

think of something to send in return

so we’re even. Don’t expect too

much. Just sit tight.

Azul

My boon companion—

Thank you for your wonderful gift.

You have quite the eye for quality

and chose a fine fragrance. That

said, I prefer not to accept gifts

without providing anything in

return. Expect something from me

of equivalent value soon.

Jade

My dear friend—

Thank you for your lovely present.

Did you know that morays have

keen senses of smell? I’ll quite enjoy

this. I’d like to treat you to a drink

at the Mostro Lounge in return.

What do you say?

Floyd

Dear Little Shrimpy—

What a neat choice for a present.

Did you pick out this scent ‘cause it

reminded you of me? Kinds funny if

this is the vibe I give you. I guess I’ll

use it if I feel like it. No promises.

Kalim

To my dear friend—

Thanks for the gift. You picked this

fragrance out for me, right? I’m

flattered! Ooh, I know. Next time

you’re in a gift-giving mood, you

could take me shopping to help pick

it out! The more the merrier, right?

Then again, that might defeat the

purpose of the gift… But let’s not

sweat the details!

Jamil

Hello—

I was surprised enough just to

receive a gift from you, but a

fragrance? You never fail to surprise.

It couldn’t have been easy selecting

this. I’ll have to gift you something

appropriate in return.

Vil

Dearest friend—

Thank you for your gift. It was a

rather thoughtful choice; I can use

this when I’m doing stretches. What

would you like in return, I wonder?

You’re getting something

hand-picked by me, so I’ve no doubt

you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Rook

Bonjour—

And merci boucoup! Did you

choose this just for me? I’m

delighted. The design is so lovely

and elegant. I normally avoid using

fragrances unless it’s a special

occasion, in which case I shall

happily wear one—the one you gave

me, of course.

Epel

Dear classmate—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t know

much about fragrances, but this

one’s mighty fine! It makes my

dorm room feel a smidge more

fancy. I’d better get you something

nice in return. It’s kinds fun

thinking up ideas for that.

Idia

@YOU

uh, are u saying I stink? is this like

a passive-aggressive gesture or sth?

I have questions, but since u gave

it to me, I gratefully accept. I

don’t pay much attention to

fragrances, but this one smelled pretty.

dece when I gave it a whiff.

Ortho

Hello, Prefect—

Thank you for the gift! It’s a

fragrance, right? So this is how you

perceive me. That’s fascinating! I’m

about to do a thorough analysis of

its composition. Who knows? I

might discover something neat. Let

me know what fragrances you’re

into sometime!

Malleus

To my good friend—

Thank you for the gift. Hmm…

This fragrance is meant for pleasure

and relaxation? What a tasteful

choice. I rather like it; perhaps I

shall take more of an interest in

these things. You would be welcome

to pay me a visit, by the way, should

you feel so inclined. I would enjoy

sharing an old tale or two.

Lilia

Greetings!

Thank you for picking something

out for me. It’s a rather nice gift.

Immersing myself in an unusual

fragrance reminds me of my days

visiting other lands. I know! I

should cook for you some foreign

cuisine as a token of gratitude! I can

hardly wait.

Silver

Salutations—

Thank you for your gift. This smell

is so nice and relaxing, it makes me

want to nod off. I hope tjis

improves the quality of my sleep

and helps me want to wake up sooner

when my alarm clock goes off. I’ll let

you know how it goes. Hopefully

well.

Sebek

Human—

I’ve received your gift. Fragrances

are a part of one’s personal

grooming, and you had the nerve to

gift one to ME?! Challenge

accepted. I’ll come up with the

perfect thing to return the

sentiment. You’re going to get

what’s coming to you—mark my

words!

Crowley

Dear esteemed student—

I was quite taken aback when an

unexpected package arrived in the

headmage’s office! To think you

would send me something so

thoughtful… Hmm. This fragrance

suits my tastes nicely. Normally I

wouldn’t be able to accept personal

gifts, but I think I’ll make an

exception for this, seeing as I’m

kind.

Crewel

Dear pup—

What is this? Giving personal gifts

to teachers is hardly good pup

behavior. But the moment I opened

the wrapping, I could tell you

picked this out for me. The design is

suitable enough, as is the fragrance

itself. I suppose I must commend

your knack for gift-giving. Good

boy.

Trein

Dear juvenile—

I generally decline gifts from

students, but you clearly chose this

scent out of respect for me. I won’t

use it around Lucius, but it might

be nice to use in the staff room

every once in a while. I gratefully

accept.

Vargas

Dear student—

What is this? Did I give you

a homework assignment that involved

getting me a present? Kidding, of

course. This is the perfect scent for a

guy as cool as me! I’ll teach you how

to make my signature Vargas

protein drink in return!

Sam

Heya, my little imp!

What is up? Did you pick this out

just for me? It’s a fantastic scent,

thanks! If you’re interested in this

type of thing, I happen to have a

fine selection in stock, so swing by

whenever you want! I’m looking

forward to your next visit.

Grim

Dear minion—

Mrah?! I was expecting tuna, but

instead I get some weird thing

called a fragrance? What IS this

thing? I woulda taken tuna in a

heartbeat, but since my

hench-human picked this out for

me, I guess a proper boss would put

it to good use. Be grateful for my

kindness, partner!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. 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 live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: don't ask me why I did this.

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 <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You keep to yourself. That’s the safest, the easiest way to live. You keep your head down, your eyes to yourself, your voice bottled up. 

You grip your phone as you approach the coffee shop. You stand on your toes to see through the painted windows and frown at the long queue. You won’t have to worry about that. Like everything else social, you’ve found a work around. 

You look at your phone, the app showing your order as ‘preparing’. It should be done shortly as the progress bar fills close to complete. You can bear the claustrophobia for a minute or so until it’s ready. 

You go to open the door but an arm reaches past you and does that first. You step back, patiently waiting for the other customer to precede you. They don’t move. You stare at their shoes. Dark blue velvet loafers with gold emblems on chains.  

“Go on, baby face, I got it,” the man’s voice makes your skin crawl. 

You shrink down and give a nod, throat clenching as you struggle to find your voice. You’re not much for conversation but you’re but impolite. 

“Thanks,” you force out without raising your head. 

You scurry through quickly, a bit to close to the stranger than you like, and you clasp your phone against your chest as you stand just away from the cluster of people awaiting their orders. You bounce on your feet as the noises join together to form a cacophony; the hissing steam, the clanging metal, the clinking porcelain, the calls of the workers behind the counter, and the buzz of the crowd seated or standing around the cafe. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck as the chaos swirls a storm around you. 

You pull your phone away from the front of your pullover and check the screen. Should be ready any moment and you’ll be free of the circus. You adjust your grip on the phone, almost jittery as another customer joins the wait at the pick up window. 

You breathe out. It’s not usually this busy at this time. You have a routine. You can handle the expected. You order on your phone so you don’t need to talk to anyone. You wait outside until it’s almost done then come in too quickly claim your prize. But not today, something’s different and it’s throwing everything off. 

It’s only on Wednesday’s that you venture down to the cafe. It’s the halfway point of your week so you mark it with a taste of motivation. The same order every week. A London fog latte. Simple and affordable. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. 

Your name cuts through the din, “...medium London fog.” 

You drop your arm to your side and set your shoulders. You march forward through the parting bodies ahead of you and reach for the cup. Before you can grasp it, someone else scoops it up. You nearly cry out in horror. Someone’s stealing your order! 

You turn to the tea thief but they make no move to flee. They hold the cup nonchalantly, turning it to read the sticker on the side, reciting the same name that just rose from the barista’s lips seconds ago. You face the stranger but again, your eyes are downward.

The blue loafers! 

“Cute name,” he comments as he holds the cup out. 

You once more try to take the cup but before you can, he has it out of reach again. Your lashes flick and your fingers twiddle helplessly. His large hand is firmly around the cup so even if you did try to wrestle it from him, you doubt you’d have any hope but to spill it all. 

You look around but no one else seems to notice. They’re all staring at their phones or talking with the person next to them. The staff behind the counter are too busy appeasing the rush of orders. 

“I’ve never tried one of these,” he taunts, “I’m more of a ristretto guy. Like my espresso.” 

You shake your head and rescind your hand, balling it against your fist. What does he want? Why is he bothering you? You said thank you. Did he not hear you? 

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he pushes the tea towards you, “there you are, sweat pea.” 

You hesitate. You slowly unfurl your fingers and reach for the cup. As you wrap your fingers around it, you can’t help but brush his. Thick and strong and unmoving. He clings to it for just a moment before he lets you have it. 

“Thanks,” you squeak again, this time louder so he certainly hears you. 

“You got a sweet voice,” he puts his hand on his hip, a glimpse of a shiny gold watch face peeking out from beneath his sleeve, “I’d love to hear more of it.” 

Your eyes round as you focus on the zipper of his thin jacket. You shake your head and meekly raise your cup awkwardly and dip your chin slightly. No thanks. 

You turn and weave your way back through the crowd. Your heart is thumping in your chest. What an odd encounter. 

More so, you’re dismayed that he saw you. That he noticed you. For years, you’ve done your best to be invisible. You prefer it that way. You don’t even think your neighbours know you exist. But that man, he seemed to see nothing but you. 

You push outside and nearly drop your cup. You try to steady yourself. You’re all knotted up and tense. You tuck your phone into your back pocket and bring the cup before you nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the foam. Something about it isn’t as soothing as usual. 

You turn down the pavement and wince as a sole scuffs close behind you. Suddenly, another set of steps walk next to yours, measured to keep in tandem with your own short legs. Blue velvet.  

You walk faster. Is he following you? Why? What does he want? He’s much taller, you can’t outpace him. 

“You know, when I said I’d like to hear more, I thought maybe over a coffee?” He suggests. 

You don’t say a word as you keep your eyes forward, squeezing your cup tight as you try not to swish it around too much. You’ve never had to deal with this before. Men don’t see you. There was a time you hated that but since, you were grateful for that. 

“I mean, I could do most of the talking, never had much of a trouble with that, jellybean,” he offers. 

You shake your head. Your throat tightens. You can’t speak. You want to scream but you can’t make a noise. 

As you get to the corner, you stop short. He steps past you but just as quickly catches himself and turns to face you. You gulp and look down at your cup. You can’t keep going. If you do, you’ll lead him right to your home. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart? You forget something? How about we head back and I’ll buy you something sugary to go with that?” 

You furrow your brow and step back on your heel. You bring your eyes up, a furtive glance at his face, brief and flickering. You just want to know what he looks like so you never see him again. 

His blue eyes twinkle, his nose is long but proportioned to his chiseled face, his hair is combed back, the sides shaved, and a thick swatch of hair lines his upper lip. He’s older than you, you know that much, but you’ve never good at gauging age. You’ve never seen him before but you can’t be sure. You don’t look at many faces. 

You pivot and cross the street without looking. You narrowly miss a bumper and get a honk in remonstrance. You can’t stop yourself. You’re panicking. You head down the next street as his footsteps follow. It’s all you can hear.  

As you pass a bin, you dump the drink. You don’t pause as it plummets heavily into the trash and you fall into a brisk half-jog. You pump your arms, puffing wildly, dizzy as you search for a saviour.  

You dash into the library. You don’t know what you’re looking for. Just for anyone to get this man to leave you alone. 

You don’t look back as you enter and head straight for the front counter. You’re out of breath as you approach the rounded edge and tap the bell frantically. A woman emerges from behind the window wall and she greets you with a confused chime. 

“Hello, can I help you?” She asks. 

“Yes, I need...” you gulp and glance at the doors. You push away from the counter and spin, searching. You don’t see the man. He’s probably waiting outside. But you never looked back. You never really saw if he was following. “I...” you turn back to the woman, “never mind.” 

You cross your arms and turn away. You cringe as you realise how ridiculous you must have seemed. Worse, you didn’t mean to bother someone just doing their job and over what? You’re own issues. You should go home, back to your reclusion, where you can’t be in anyone’s way. 

👄

When you finally muster the courage to leave the library, your journey home is slowed by your paranoia. You have your phone out, held up so you can see over your shoulder with the front camera. You watch the screen more than the sidewalk ahead of you. 

You get home without a second shadow. As you let yourself through the grated front door of the building, you can’t help but feel stupid. That man must’ve got the idea when you as good as ran in the other direction. You’re being dramatic. 

You close the camera and put your phone away. You waist six dollars in your frantic flight. You mourn the tea latte as the heavy inner door clunks shut behind you. You drag your feet up the stairs as your keys jingle on your finger. 

You apartment is at the very end of the hall. You enter and twist the latch. You slide the chain into place and hang the key ring on the little hook beside the door frame. You untangle your purse and leave it with your phone on the table in the corner. 

You shuffle the few feet to the front room and look around. You find comfort in the familiarity of your little apartment. Your hideaway. 

You go back to your desk and sign back in. You’re back later than usual but you can still make up the time. As long as there’s enough tasks left in the portal. You don’t have to let that man ruin your whole day. You’ll never see him again. In a few days, you won’t even remember him. 

👄

Wednesday. Halfway through the week.  

You scroll and click around your screen as you watch the clock in the corner tick on. Usually around this time, you’d be excited. You’d clock out for your break and go down to the cafe. As much as you looked forward to the treat, the walk alone was relaxing in its own way. 

Not that day. Despite your efforts to shrug off the strange encounter, you haven’t shaken it. So instead, the kettle boils as a bag of earl gray sits in an empty mug. You’re not going. Maybe next week. 

You’re a bit depressed but you’re too nervous to make the venture. Oh well, you’ll save a bit of money. You could find a different place next time. That might be easier. 

You stay logged in and claim a new task. Hey, you can be done work earlier if you can power through. You might even make a few extra bucks. 

The kettle clicks and you get up to pour the water. You leave it to steep, forgetting it for the screen before you. Your fingers tap endlessly across the keyboard, filling the silence as you zone in on the words, transcribing messy ink to Times New Roman. 

Your trance is broken by a sudden buzz. You sit up, the kink in your neck pangs. You need to stop hunching. The buzz comes again. Is that... It must be a mistake. It happens now and then, someone buzzes the wrong apartment. 

You get up as it sounds a third time and you shuffle down to the speaker box. You hit the button, “wrong number.” 

“No--” 

You let go of the number before you can hear the response. They buzz again. You sigh. You hit the button. 

“I’m sorry but you have the wrong number,” you repeat. 

“I don--” 

You release the button again and take a step back. Buzz! You’re getting annoyed. You hit the button. “Wrong--” 

“Got a delivery. 212.” The man’s voice drowns out your own, reciting your name after your apartment number. Your finger stays on the button as you frown. A delivery? 

“I’m not expecting a delivery.” 

“Are you...” he says your name again. 

“... yes.” 

Silence, filled with the low hum of the speaker, “so, can I come up or...?” 

“Uh, I guess.” 

You pull your finger away and hover it over the other. Maybe it’s from work? There was the one time they sent a cheap mass production travel mug with their logo on it as some incentive. A poor attempt at employee appreciation. 

You press down and hold until you’re certain they have enough time to get in. You wait by the door, ringing your hands. You hear the door at the end of the hall open on its old hinges and you peek through the peephole. 

You watch the fuzzy figure come into focus with each of his long steps. He doesn’t hold a box nor wear the uniform of a postal worker. No, he wears those blue leather loafers and holds a bright pink paper cup with a white lid. From the cafe.  

As he comes close, you get a pigeon’s eye view of the hair on his upper lip and his bold blue eyes. It feels like he can see you too as he stands smirking on the other side of the door. This can’t be real. 

He knocks and you wince as the door shifts in the frame. 

“Special delivery,” he calls through, “open up, baby face.” 

[vibingandsimping]

Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.

Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!

Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.

Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash

Astarion,

If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.

He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.

He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.

As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.

He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.

A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.

Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)

A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.

We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.

As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.

He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.

He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.

Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)

Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.

He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.

Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”

When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.

[imp-simp]

Stolas x GN reader Dating Headcanons

AN: Requests are open! So if there's any Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel characters you want to read about, feel free to send in an ask. I'll write prompts or general dating hcs.

~Stolas loves to comb his fingers through your hair. He may be rough in bed, but he's very delicate when it comes to after. He'll rub his hand up and down your back while whispering how much he loves you.

~He's a very affectionate demon, be prepared to fall asleep curled up next to him. He makes soft little nosies in his sleep, nothing loud, just little coo's and hums here and there as he dreams. He won't stay still during the night, so don't be surprised if you wake up to no blanket with him on the floor.

~He can get pretty clingy sometimes. Between his arranged marriage with Stella and his monthly meetings with Blitzø he's not used to having someone genuinely care for him. This usually leads to him getting pretty jealous. If someone tries to flirt with you, he'll stand up a little taller or ruffle his feathers a bit. His tail swishing low behind him in quick movements.

~He won't introduce you to Octavia immediately. His worst fear is Via not liking you. Of course, it's all in his head because you two get along like a house on fire. You even hang out with her without Stolas every now and again. She likes to go to the mall with you and grab something to eat while checking out all the new clothes from stylish occult.

~Stella won't even look at you, especially if you're from a lower class. Stolas tries to deal with Stella's nonsense on the phone, and if he has to meet with her in person for any reason, he makes sure you're not around. He couldn't care less what Stella says about him, but he wouldn't be able to control himself if she said something about you to your face. So he'd rather avoid that by keeping you two as far away from each other as possible.

~He loves to spoil you with his wealth. Any excuse to pamper you he immediately takes. He'd show up to your door with a giant bouquet of flowers ready to treat you to the nicest date you've ever been on. Nothing is to fancy when it comes to his sweetheart.

[probably-writing-x]

Eyes On You

Summary: You were practically the princess of Outer Banks, everyone knew it. So, when you started dating Rafe Cameron, to say people had something to say about it would be an understatement. And there was only so much of it that the two of you could take.

Warnings: Some sexual references, cursing, Rafe being a protective bf

Author’s Note: Saw a tiktok about male book characters leaning against doorways and it inspired this entire story :) Enjoy and send in any requests you may have

Not my gif

“Babe can you help me?” Rafe calls out to you from the bedroom, where you’re fixing up the last of your makeup, there’s a stress to his voice.

“What have you done?” You laugh, setting down your mascara and walking across to the bedroom.

He was stood in front of the mirror with his bowtie dangling around his neck, clearly having given up on the fight against it.

“I hate these things,” He grumbles, dragging a hand over his hair.

“Leave your hair alone,” You hit his hand away, “Come here.”

You fold the silky material pieces over themselves until it resembles the bow shape and fixing it in the centre of the top of his shirt.

Rafe lifts his hands up over yours and pulls both of them to his lips to kiss you, “What would I do without you?”

You hum with his contact as he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hands three times. The two of you hadn’t managed to get out of going to one of your family’s events - full of people that thought the world of themselves, and had enough money in the bank to act like they could prove it. Rafe, of course, would be by your side, as much as he hated these things too. It was all shaking hands and comments on how you were ‘too good for him’ - though your parents and their friends thought of you as too good for everyone. You’d picked out a pale blue suit for Rafe, one that brought out a brightness to his face, and you were wearing a navy dress that matched the dark blue of his bowtie.

“You look beautiful,” He comments, leaning down slowly to press a kiss to your lips, delicate as if he’s worried he’ll damage the art in front of him.

“Thanks babe,” You smile, fixing the messier strands of his hair, “Are you ready to go?”

“Am I ever?”

~~~

Inevitably, the two of you were late by the time you both walked in. There were people spilling all over the ballroom venue, faces you recognised from growing up amongst faces around others that your parents were likely trying to impress. Everyone that saw you greeted you warmly, telling you that you had grown up too fast. With each person that you had to force pleasantries with, Rafe could see you getting more and more tense. He was sure this kind of night was your idea of hell.

“I’ll go and get us some drinks, darling,” He mentions, placing a hand on your back, “What do you fancy?”

“Anything, I don’t mind,” You smile at him and he squeezes your hand before disappearing through the crowd.

You were in conversation with your old neighbours, who were telling you about a new holiday home they’d just bought, and you’d completely lost interest.

“So, you and Rafe are still together?” The woman asks, raising her brows just momentarily.

“Yeah, over a year now,” You smile, even the mention of his name making your stomach flip like it did when you’d first got together.

“Are you sure, honey?”

The question makes your heart sink, and you lose your words.

“I’m just not sure if he is the one for you,” She sighs, as if her words are said with good sentiment.

“I’m sorry?”

“We just want what is best for you,” She squeezes your arm and you pull away from her touch quickly.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You manage to force out, your eyes flicking across the room. You don’t find Rafe amongst the faces but you know you need to get away.

So often people tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t enough for you, as if he were a boy damaged beyond repair and he would never be the boyfriend they expected you to have. They didn’t see the way he remembered all of the little details you told him, how he bought you flowers whenever he felt like it, how he made sure you knew he loved you every day. He was everything, even if they couldn’t see it.

~~~

Rafe was caught in conversation with two of the boys you’d gone to school with. They reminded him of himself from a few years ago, before he’d met you and before he’d changed. They spoke of nothing if they weren’t bragging, finding a way to mention their wealth or their status or their girls at every chance. The latter was their current topic.

“Listen, she was fit, but like nothing more than that,” One of them shakes his head, taking a long sip of his beer.

Rafe was hovering awkwardly between them, your champagne glass in his hand still waiting to be able to get it to you. He had to make a good impression at these things, he knew what they all thought of him otherwise.

“I mean, come on,” The boy scoffs, “I’m not tying myself down unless shes at least an eleven out of ten.”

Rafe is holding back a wince when the attention turns to him.

“Cameron, you still with (Y/N)?”

He pinches at the lobe of his ear, avoiding the anger that would normally course through him, “Yeah, yeah, still together,” He nods.

“Fuck, man, I don’t know how you do that shit,” One of the boys laughs, “One woman?”

“Oh, come on, this is Rafe Cameron, there’s no way he’s only fucking her.”

Rafe can’t do it for much longer, his grip tightens around the glass of champagne as if it was grounding him to you.

“Yeah, (Y/N)’s fit as fuck but she was always uptight in school, she’d never let anyone fuck her.”

Rafe sets the champagne glass down on the table, “Alright, fuck you,” He swings back his arm and launches a fist towards the jaw of the boy talking before anyone has a chance to stop him, before he can find any justification to not do it.

He pulls his hand away and the other boys scramble to their friend like a litter of lost puppies, pulling him up to stop him from stumbling over. Rafe shakes off his hand and picks up the champagne once again, directing himself towards the door before any of them can get a hand to him.

He pushes his way through a few more people until he gets to a clearing nearer the back of the room, where you were leaning against a doorframe, your back to him. Rafe comes up behind you, a hand over his head to grip the top of the doorframe as he towers over you from behind. You turn over your shoulder and instantly brighten at the sight of him.

“There you are!” You beam, a smile creasing the sides of your eyes.

“Here you go, m’lady,” He swings his arm around to bring the drink to you and you instantly notice the blotchy redness on his hand, the kind that is quickly turning into a bruise.

“Rafe, what happened?” You grip his hand gently before he can pull it away from you.

He sniffs and clears his throat, “Those assholes from your school.”

“Okay.”

He’s surprised at first, no anger in you for him getting into fights, no worry about the people he’s hit, no ‘please don’t do that again’.

“Okay?”

You hum and lean back a little into his chest, lifting the flute to your lips and finishing the glass.

“Alright who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?” He quips, bringing a hand up to massage into your shoulder.

“I hate it here,” You sigh, setting the glass down and leaning even further into him.

He rubs at your skin more, leaning down to press a kiss in the spot, his lips lingering before he perches his chin on top of your shoulder, “Do you want to get out of here?”

You nod, turning your head to kiss his temple, the sort of contact that makes him smile like a boy with his first crush.

“Let’s go home,” He drops his hand to lace his fingers with yours, the other hand falling to the bottom of your spine to guide you through the crowd.

“Wait a second,” You mention quickly, ducking out of his grip when you spot a waiter carrying a fresh bottle of champagne across the room of people.

You swipe it from him, spilling some of the golden liquid over your hand, hurrying back over to Rafe.

“What the-“ He laughs, looking at you with an admiration in his eyes that he never lost.

You grab his hand tightly in yours and pull him through the crowd, both of you pushing past bodies like they weren’t even there. You know they’re all looking at you, like you were the King and Queen’s princess, looking at Rafe as if he were the boy that corrupted you. But you don’t care. His hand is in yours and there’s enough adrenaline pacing through your veins for you to just keep running with him.

When the two of you break through to the outside, Rafe spins you into his arms, wrapping his grip around your waist and pulling you into him. You’re both breathless, a wildness to your eyes as if you were two escaped convicts. He brings a hand up and cups your cheek, kissing you with pressure like he’s forcing you to remember that he loves you. That, in that moment, he doesn’t think he’s ever loved you more.

And as much as all of those guests’ eyes had seemed to be burning into you all night, there was nothing else that mattered when Rafe’s eyes were on you, telling you everything that his words never could.

[loppsided]

l. de lioncourt as your boyfriend

summary: headcanons for boyfriend lestat

pairing: lestat de lioncourt x reader

wc: 302

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of death/killing

a/n: writing for the best fictional vampire yep! again, requests are open, send something for any character on my masterlist! likes and reblogs appreciated.

you were turned by lestat after louis almost killed you (like claudia) and he was immediately enamored by you

buying you elaborate and expensive gifts to please you

teaching you how to play the piano and any other instrument you were interested in

him opening up to you about how he was turned, talking about how it was, being by himself

you and him growing closer that night as you consoled him

you him and louis going to fancy balls and rich parties together to find some rude upperclassmen to dine on

him helping you with the initial guilt of killing after becoming a vampire

you sharing the same hunger as him so he quickly see's himself in you

sharing a coffin together, you holding on to him as you slept while he played in your hair

a very gentle kisser, takes your chin with his fingers and tilts your head up to grasp your lips

slow dancing to orchestral music

having to deal with his anger outbursts every once and while, calming him down and reassuring him everything would be ok

him taking you to paris, milan, tokyo, anywhere you wanted to go

reading together in the huge library he built for you

him getting you the most expensive and high quality dresses or suits

him comforting you when you talk about how much you miss seeing the sun

going to plays together, laughing loudly in the back at how silly they are

him telling you everything he knows from his many years of being alive, never failing to keep you interested as he details his endeavors

you initially having a hard time getting along with him, but slowly warming up to him

debating current issues to keep yourselves entertained since nights can be boring

being spoiled by him constantly

[sukunasbow]

sfw hcs, blair waldorf.

summary: blair and sfw hcs!

warnings: maybe very very slight allusions to sex??

notes: send any requests for any character in literally anything, i want to write more but my ideas are low!

Despite Blair appearing to be a tough and cruel girl, she’s actually a sweetheart when she’s with you, to the point that people prefer talking to her when you’re next to her because she tones her mean girl persona down way more.

She loves spoiling you, it’s her favourite way to show her love for you. She’ll buy you whatever you want, typically you don’t ask for anything, but if you even mention finding something cute or wanting to buy something, she’s getting it for you before you can even think about purchasing it yourself. There’s a new collection announced by your favourite clothing brand? She makes her mother utilize her designer connections and personally talk with the brand to buy one of everything for you and have it shipped out immediately.

Her second love language towards you is physical touch. She needs to constantly be near you and showing you affection, whether it’s holding your hand or pressing small kisses around your face.

She’s super protective of you. Everyone knows you’re her partner and wouldn’t dare to cross her and make a move on you.

However, anyone who does dare, will feel the wrath of the queen bee. She’ll make it her mission to cause chaos, but you always end up having to help her stay calm and grounded.

Blair is certain that you’re her future. She knows the two of you will live a long life together filled with love and luxury. You mean everything to her and she never plans on letting you go.

Her favourite day with you consists of going out to a fancy dinner and, possibly, going shopping after. It all depends on how the two of you feel when dinner is over.

Blair can be really stubborn and impulsive at times, so whenever the two of you get into a disagreement, you typically give her time to herself so she can think about the situation and talk to you when she’s in a better state of mind. However, the two of you don’t fight that often.

You definitely need to reassure her and praise her by using words of affirmation. She can feel really insecure and sometimes all she needs and wants is for you to tell her how beautiful she looks and how much you love her.

Intimacy is also a very high priority for her. She finds chemistry and physical attraction to be very important in a relationship. Obviously, the two of you share that intimacy and understanding of each other’s desires.

Overall, Blair is just so in love with you and thinks so highly of you. She’s the perfect girlfriend.

[swallowprettybird]

Simverse Magazine welcomes you 🎙️💌

Hello, everyone! I want to share with you an idea I have been working on for some time.

Some of you already know, some of you don't, but I'm coming to you with the intention of creating a kind of magazine about life in the sims - about life in the sims universe and your characters in it.

If you like to play gameplay, tell stories, or create art, or are interested in building, or make lookbooks, this is all about you!

More details below 👇

The magazine will be published in an electronic flipbook format at the end of each month.

To give you a better idea, I've highlighted a few sections:

Fancy look - all about fashion and style, about models and lookbooks. If you are a creator you can offer your cc, or if you like to make lookbooks you can make one for the magazine and I'll mentioned you!

You can also choose how the page with your lookbook will look like or I will do it for you)

examples

Frame code - something similar to the Fancy look, but in this case, cc does not matter - it is creativity and your characters or edits, or any visual experience that comes to the fore.

Maybe it's a portrait, or a rendering, or a game photo. Just send me a picture and I will publish it with you as the author.

examples

Life as it is - all about the life of your sims. If there are any events that happened in your game that you can tell us about, or if your original characters have their own hobbies or adventures, you can tell us about them! I think this can be done in the form of an article. But you can also share your suggestions and we will discuss them.

Time to talk - an interview format in which we will talk to your character and ask a few questions.

Chili pepper news - news about events in the community within the sim universe: challenges, quests, events, anything that unites more than one simmer and their sims. for example: bachelorette show!

It can also be significant events that relate to your game and your universe.

Sleepless town - it's all about rumors, about the game, about its lore and its locals. if you like to explore the game and know a few interesting things or play as the original inhabitants or make makeovers, then this is for you

Time machine - a section created specifically for past eras and simmers playing in decades. Includes all other sections in own way.

Focus - dedicated to real events and the movement associated with them. This is an opportunity to highlight interesting topics or tell about your culture in the form of a sims. Whether in the form of an article or a poster. example: pride month

Comfy space - everything about construction, interiors and lookbooks for build/buy objects.

This is the entire list for now. If you have any thoughts, questions, or suggestions, don't hesitate to ask me about it.

If you have something to share, or have questions or suggestions, please send me a direct message. You can also send a request to my inbox, but please don't hesitate, I'll be happy to see you!

Terms of Use

Please don't claim as your own. I realize that this is not an original idea to make a magazine about sims. But SIMVERSE is really something I work on with interest and love.

Previously @auroragoth has already published a similar magazine before, and we have the same idea of what it could look like.

Thank to her for supporting me! ❤️

DNI: racists, homofobs, terfs and other shit

Please, don't use perma paywalled cc. I want this to be available to every simmer.

[tontoemojis]

Hello there & welcome to tontoemojis !

Call me Tonto or Timón or { Molten } Freddy , it/its pronouns or no pronouns { sometimes varies between me & us , or talks in 3rd person when referring to self } . Timón is an autist , mentally & physically disabled hispanic artist 🤟 , I talk & type weird eccentric . Nonhuman schizophrenic hippie scary animatronic 🦥 , NPD BPD C - PTSD & more . Semiverbal part - time AAC user & low - medium supports , probably . ➕️ more about me

This blog is one a sideblog mainly to post some little emoji doodles & my own personal AAC or disability related stuff . Askbox is always open for everyone that wants to request emojis of all types or wants to help me practice AAC !!! , askbox & Tumblr are shitty & sometimes they delete random asks , if your ask has been ignored it probably is because I am in the process of making your request or Tumblr deleted it . All interactions come from @animatronicthing .

➡️ MY AMAZING PFP WAS DRAWN BY @k9emote MY BABYGIRL !!! , GO SUPPORT & LOVE HER ART NOW .

I process language very difficult , it may seem like I have short vocabulary or weird talking , it is hard for me to understand everything so be patient with requests . Do not send requests with fancy fonts or super all colored text , just plain text thank you .

I don ’ t like arguing , I normally just block & live my life as happy as I can . No set DNI for this blog either .

You can help me & support my blog right here , it would help a lot :3 👉 Ko-fi

Free Palestine , Ukraine & Congo 🇵🇸 🇺🇦 🇨🇩

👤⠀About the emojis ;

All kinds of emojis are made here , from yellow { or any other color } guy to basic core words . The language can also vary . Literally anything can be requested ; NSFW , wordmojis , animals . ONLY exceptions are complex characters from media which are done in commissions . Do not repost my emojis on sites like Pinterest or etc . You may use emojis here for AAC , discord servers , personal use , NOT COMMERCIAL USE .

There is a looooong wait for emojis . Please be specific when requesting , I have no idea what you mean when you say ““ emojis of x thing ”” what are those emojis that you want ??? , no idea …

You can use my emojis without credit although credit is very appreciated , just do not claim them as yours . if you are gonna repost my work add credit . if you are going to take inspo from my emojis please tell me I would love to see !!! . Do not recolor , trace or edit my emojis , just request it & I can do it myself ; less work for you !!!

Emoji commissions open !!! , check my emoji commissions here { link } .

OFFICIAL TONTOEMOJIS SERVER HERE !!! 🌻

🗃⠀Tags of the blog ;

#nsfw tag — post with NSFW related emojis , from sex to gore to other stuff . BLOCK IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE THESE .

#tonto's AAC — our own personal AAC stuff .

#tonto text post — post us talking .

#tonto's art — post us our doodles .

#silly friendos — Tonto ’ s friends . That's it !

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Hey ! It’s been a while 🥺 hope you’re doing well ! As always sending positive love, hugs & vibes your way ✨ I saw that your request are open, I was wondering if I could request :

Arranged Marriage with Kazutora/ Hakkai ( + anyone else you’d want)with reader who’s like against it and yet they’re like so patient, kind & understanding with us about it 🥺😭 like I just know kazutora and Hakkai would be so sad and pout on their little corner if we like ignored them 😭😭 making us feel bad and us giving in to them 😭

Please & thank you 🥰🤍✨

TokRev x Reader: Arranged Marriage

♡ SFW, fem reader, pure fluff, Koko being sassy, Kazutora and Hakkai very lowkey guilt tripping reader but not on purpose, also lowkey rich families au lol ♡

Characters: Kazutora, Hakkai, Kokonoi

note: hiii Lola I'm doing absolutely fantastic other than the fact I'm up at 3am, I hope you're doing great tho and I'm sending ultra positive energy right back atcha 🩷

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Kazutora

🐯 Gives you as much space as possible, even sleeps in the guestroom for the first few months of your marriage

🐯 Cooks breakfast and dinner if he can, he doesn't want you feeling obligated to do anything

"Kazutora, you know you don't have to get up early just to make breakfast. I'm perfectly cap-"

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. You're my wife now, not a damn maid...and just call me Tora."

🐯 Waits on you hand and foot, he never thought he was marriage material but being married to you is something he's definitely not taking for granted

🐯 He does so much for you that you start feeling bad for being so standoffish and end up telling him to start sleeping in the main bedroom with you

Hakkai

💙 This man is practically ready to burst into tears every time he walks by you

💙 He feels so bad for you in this situation and if he could divorce you, he'd do it just to make you happy

"Hey y/n, j-just so y'know..I didn't come up with the idea for us to be married."

"I know that Kai, it's not your fault."

"Oh thank goodness, I thought you were mad at me.."

💙 Once you're more comfortable in your relationship, he starts taking you on dates and helping you pick out outfits (Mitsuya's his stylist so you know you'll look good)

💙 You become really good friends with Yuzuha and you and her have girls nights (she spills all of Hakkai's embarrassing secrets too)

Kokonoi

💵 He's against it too and is dealing with absolutely ZERO of your bullshit

"Why did I have to get married to you of all people?!"

"Well you aren't the hottest grate on the stove yourself, you think I wanted this?"

💵 The back and forth is unrivaled, sometimes you wonder if he's trying to one up your complaints or if he's just genuinely unhappy too

💵 Eventually you both come around to the idea of being married, just not romantically

💵 You agree on a partnership made up of shopping sprees, fancy dinners, and nights filled with gossip (especially if it's about your families because it gets messy and scandalous real quick 👏🏽)

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten

[ctrlsugar]

BACK BY REQUEST : MY PERSONAL SERVER TEMPLATE.

below is a guide for the channels, as well as tips and tricks for using this template and a few recommendations for bots. ( link & image heavy )

NOTE: this is an outdated template, and is not the server i currently use - if you would like to see an updated version of this ( my roleplay group or 1x1 roleplay servers, or others ), please let me know!!

GET THE SERVER | FREE ( tips appreciated !! )

BOT SUGGESTIONS.

tupperbox ( for proxying your muses for discord roleplay )

writerbot ( for writing sprints, goals & prompts )

reminder ( for reminders / birthday updates )

threadtracker ( for tracking threads on discord )

TIPS.

messletters ( for fancy text )

this entire tag by @dayslily ( for discord tips & tricks )

turn on community for the forum features ( linked to tutorial )

WELCOME CENTER.

ooc : updates / generally in large community servers you can subscribe to get updates sent to you personal server, this is a good place to send them. alternatively, you can utilize webhooks to send your tumblr notifications to your discord server in this channel. ( see tutorial here ).

ooc : emails / i use this channel to keep track of my logins for various tumblr blogs and other websites.

ooc : reminders / using a bot, i set this channel to have reminders for various things, such as personal reminders, roleplay to do list and even character & partner birthdays

ooc : todolist / you could use a bot, or just manually update this channel with your current todolist.

ooc : drafts / i will occasional leave drafts to replies here so i can come back for them at a later point

BOTS.

bot : writing / my preferred bot for this is writer bot - linked above, i use this channel to set/check my goals, set up writing sprints, and occasionally get prompts for writing.

bot : tupperbox / i like to set up all my tuppers in privacy, so i find having my own sever with a channel makes it easy to change my avatar and other tupper information quick and also to test them without spamming a group tupper channel. ( tupperbox - linked above )

bot : reminders / i will often set up a channel for reminders because i'm super forgetful and having a reminder bot helps me get to tasks in a timely manner ( when i remember to set up the bot!! lol ) ( reminder bot - linked above )

bot : tracker / i'm not sure if this tracker has the function to work cross server yet, you'd have to check with the makers on their github, but this is great for 1x1 and group servers. ( thread tracker - linked above )

DEVELOPMENT.

dev : names / a channel to store ideas for muse names, etomology, etc

dev : prompts / a channel to store ask memes, character & writing prompts, etc

dev : inspiration / a channel to store character/muse inspiration, photos, videos, posts, even just a list of words/aesthetics, etc

dev : brainstorm / a place to spitball ideas for new muses and/or plots, i like to utilize the voice message feature here and just talk out my ideas so i can listen back to them later when incorporating them into a new muse.

dev : headcanons / a channel to store headcanons ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate the headcanons into posts for each muse : see image below for example ).

dev : faces / a channel to store resources for you muse face claims, i would store social media posts, photoshoots, gif set links, etc ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate the faces into posts for each face claim : see image below for example ).

ROLEPLAY.

rp : masterlist / a channel to host your own character masterlist, you can format this however you like, or even use forums - you could link to other channels in the muse category.

rp : plots / a channel to post links and ideas for plots wanted for muses and roleplay groups.

rp : wishlist / a channel to post roleplay wishlist items, links, ideas, etc

rp : promotions / a channel to post links for roleplay promotions either to your own groups or groups that you'd like to keep an eye on.

rp : groups / i use this channel to store the links to my current roleplay groups, links to the main blog, any relevant sideblogs, as well as a list of muses i currently have active within them.

rp : partners / helpful for storing a list of mains (for indies), with names, pronouns, links to rules, muses, etc - or for 1x1 lists of partners.

RESOURCES.

all of these are pretty self explanatory, you can store resources you use for tumblr and other types of roleplay in these channels, gifs, icons, templates, themes, etc.

ACTIVE MUSES.

muse : name / you can basically store your muse information, biographies, links to blogs, musings, edits, and whatever else you like. ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate items into posts : see image below for example )

CONNECTIONS.

ship : name • name / similarly to the muse section, you can store your ship dynamic and details here, links to you partner's blog, ship tag, edits, headcanons, etc ( if utilizing the community feature, you could make this a forum and separate items into posts : see image below for example )

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Finer Things 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, 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: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: Another sexy silverfox.

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. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“It will be so good to see you, honey,” you mom’s buoyant voice rings in your ear drum and you move the cell away from your ear. You make a face and catch the eyes of passerby, cringing at yourself as you veer away from the coed and continue towards your residence. 

“You too, mom,” you reply as you keep to the edge of the walk, sure to keep out of the way of students and faculty alike. 

“I have a surprise too!” She rings out. 

“Mm, you do?” You frown. The last time she had a surprise, it wasn’t really for you. Her trip to the Caribbean had you alone for your sixteenth but that was like five years ago. 

Your eyes skim the rustic colours of the curling leaves as wind whips around the collar of your coat. You plug your other hear so you can hear her voice. 

“Oh yes! It’s all really exciting. Just make sure you wear something fancy. I looked up a few local spots and this one looks very upscale,” she trills. 

That’s your mom. She spends more than she should, or has. If she had access to your trust, you wouldn’t have tuition. It’s just another part of your life that makes you feel helpless. 

“Alright, I’m sure I have something...” 

“What about all those clothes I gave you when I cleaned out my closet?” She preens. 

“Mom, I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase.” You don’t mention that you didn’t fit into them either. Your short and rounder than her. 

“Do you need money? I could send you my credit card number... one of them.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll find something,” you assure her and dodge out of the way of a group of frats. You feel so invisible. It’s like no matter what you do, no one sees you, even standing right in front of them. “I should go. It’s windy.” 

“Okay, I guess you can go,” she whines. “But I’ll see you tonight. Oh, I’ll send you the address too. Should I send an uber?” 

“Mom, please, my tuition includes a bus pass--” 

“The bus? Oh, at night?” 

“Mom,” you grit again. “Please. I’ll get there. See ya then.” 

“Alright, alright. I love you. Buh-bye.”  

You hang up and tuck your phone away, keeping your hands in your pockets as the tails of your coat flap with another chilly gust. You slope your shoulders against the autumnal temperate and hide your cheeks against your scarf. You love this time of year for the apple cider and pumpkin everything but the weather isn’t always so pleasant. 

As you get to your building, you look up at the windows. There are signs decrying the latest political frenzy and flags with varying shades of rainbow, and some stickers stuck on the panes. Your own window is barren. Just like you, your living quarters are plain. 

You let yourself in through the front door with a flash of your fob and drag your feet up the stairs. Gabourey is in the kitchen on speaker phone. You often fall asleep listening to her conversations, though you try hard not to. Racquel would be working down at the bookstore, and most times you wonder where Virgie is, she’s in her room napping. 

Your entry goes unnoticed. You hide in your dorm and put your bag on the chair by the desk. You untie your boots and carry them back to the mat. Too late, you already soaked the small patch of carpet between your bed and the desk. 

You toss your coat on your bed and go to the wooden armoire next to the sink in the corner. It isn’t much space but it’s yours. You open the doors and stare down the garments hanging inside. You favour plaid, tweed, and muted colours. The plum turtleneck would go nice with your circle skirt but it feels so stuffy. Your mom said fancy, not uptight. 

Hm. A classic black dress. Everyone has one. Even you. It’s simple. A wrap with a bow at the hip. It emphasizes your curves but doesn’t make you look bigger. You can put a necklace on with it and fight your hair for some semblance of presentability. 

It doesn’t matter much anyway, it’s just your mom. You don’t really care what other people think. She’s the one so hung up on appearances. You’ll just enjoy the free meal, if her card isn’t declined. 

💎

Your mom texts as you shove your wallet in your purse. You put your glasses on over your fresh coat of mascara and read her message. ‘Uber on it’s way for you.’ 

You huff and key in your message, ‘mom, I told you not to worry.’ 

She sees it but doesn’t answer. She never listens to anyone. Ever. It’s why you haven’t seen your own grandparents since your graduation. What a lovely day that was. 

You shrug and grab your coat. Oh well. No use in arguing now. With how quick the app is, the driver’s probably right outside. Besides, you weren’t exactly looking forward to waiting for the bus in the bitter cold. 

As you come downstairs, you get another text. In the chat, you find a screenshot of your mom’s phone, but that’s not her phone number on the confirmation screen. Or yours. Hm. 

You match the license play before you approach the car. You get in and greet the driver. He doesn’t answer you. Wow, you’re in his back seat and you still can’t get a hello. Or maybe the music’s too loud. 

You clutch your bag in your lap and watch out the window. The tension rises to an awkward strangle and when at last you reach the restaurant, you thank him. He turns down the music before you can get the door open. 

“Thanks for the tip, lady,” he says brightly. “Awesome!” 

You smile and bid him ‘you’re welcome’, rather than correcting him. Even if it’s undeserved, you’ll take it. Your mom must already have ordered some wine. Her statement must be close to its limit. 

You get out and look up at the curvy cursive of the restaurant sign. It’s fancy for sure. You cross the pavement and enter warily. You might just convince her to go somewhere else. Somewhere affordable. 

You stand around in the lobby and stare at the hostess as her eyes cling to the tablet on her podium. She taps around on the screen and ignores you. Is she? Or does she just not know you’re there? You clear your throat and step up. 

“Um, hi, I’m meeting someone here. I think they’ve arrived but, er, yeah,” you grip your phone tight, “Joyce.” 

“Joyce,” she squints and checks her screen. You give your last name but she still can’t find it. 

“One second,” you back up as a couple enters and you pull up the chat. 

You frantically text your mom; ‘I’m here but they don’t have your name.’ 

The checkmark goes blue but she doesn’t answer. The bubble doesn’t even pop up to show she’s typing. Your stomach swirls and you look around. The couple is shown into the dining room by a server as the hostess looks at you. You can feel her judgement. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a man appears in a suit, “I think my guest is here. Young thing--” 

The man pauses and you look up. Your heart picks up in recognition. It’s him. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Billionaire, engineer, generous donour to the university. He smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he heads for you and you shake your head. 

“Oh no, not me--” 

He says your name and you choke on your tongue. You touch your collar and shake your head. He chuckles. 

“Sorry, did I scare ya?” He beams at you. “Your mom’s holding the table.” 

“My mom--” you stammer. 

“Come on.” He beckons you with his hand, the flash of his expensive  

“Mr. Stark, did you need anything for the table?” The hostess asks. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he winks and keeps his arm extended to you. 

“Alright, well if you do, ask for Chelsea.” 

He laughs again and waves you close. You walk to him in shock. 

“Actually, Chelsea, her coat,” he says. 

He surprises you as he unbuttons your jacket himself. You just stand there. He pushes it back on your shoulders and you squeak. You turn to let him free your arms and he hands the wool over to the hostess. 

“There we go,” he purrs. 

You step away and cross your arms defensively. He bends his elbow and looks at you expectantly, “come on.” 

You hesitate but step forward. He grabs your wrist before you can react and hooks your arm through his. You still can’t believe it’s him. Or that he’s there with your mom. This is her surprise? How the hell does she wander into these things? 

You let him lead you into the dining room. Despite the lingering nip of the fall in your cheek, sweat forms on the back of your neck and speckles your scalp. You look around and find at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you in turn. 

Stark leads you to a booth where your mom wiggles on the bench. She shimmies out from behind it and throws her arms up. Your escort releases you, brushing between your hand and your skirt, and your mom wraps you up in a hug. She rocks you with a squeal. 

“Honey! I missed you.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“Joyce, please, give the girl a moment,” Stark chuckles, “come on, let’s settle in. I’m getting a bit peckish.” 

You eagerly take his lead. You nod as your mom lets you go and you keep your eyes on the table. You slide in next to your mom as she sits. 

“Wine?” Stark offers as he lifts the bottle already on the table. 

“Erm, I don’t--” 

“She’d love some,” your mom answers, “don’t let me have all of that or I might regret it in the morning.” 

You force a smile at her joke. The undertone gives you an ick but you ignore it. Stark pours the glass. 

“We haven’t formally been introduced,” he says as he plunks the bottle down, “Tony Stark.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you take his hand as he offers it and shake it, “nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he slithers the cliche and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

You retract and cradle your fingers in your lap. You’re burning with surprise and confusion still. You glance at your mom. 

“Your mom says you came straight from school, smartie pants,” he grins. “I’m honoured you came all this way.” 

“Um, not that far.” 

“You go to Keating,” he prompts. 

“Yes, er, you spoke there--” 

“I did,” he agrees quickly. “Back in the fall. You were there?” 

“Um, ha, yeah,” you twist your fist around your finger. “I-- It was busy, you probably don’t remember but me and my roommate came to the meet and greet. She got your signature.” 

“Oh, she did? But you didn’t?” 

“Erm, no, I didn’t have VIP,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves off your apology. “You get a whole night with me.” 

Your mother giggles and puts her hand on his arm, “so, you like your surprise?” 

“Uh, surprise?” You echo thinly. “Sure, uh... I... feel like I’m crashing.” 

“Not at all.” Stark insists. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, er--” 

“Please, it’s Tony,” he says. “My father’s Mr. Stark and he’s a jackass at that.” 

You laugh, more nervous than amused. Your mom rubs his arm and leans into him, “you’re so funny, Ton.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he agrees but his eyes don’t leave you. 

You shift and peer around the restaurant. You already feel out of place here but with him, you’re even more uncertain. A clink brings your attention back to the table. 

“Come on, let’s loosen up,” he taps his glass against yours, “cheers.” 

“Cheers!” Your mother quickly scoops up her glass and knocks it against his. 

His smirk stays etched in his lips as he sips and you pick up your glass. You drink cautiously and squirm under his intense gaze. You wish he’d look away. Look at her! She’s the one you’re here for. 

[klabauters]

Our plans for Conquest include kidnapping at least one noblewoman. This stems from my discovery last year that noblewomen are incredibly open to just following you if you show up in their camp, announce that someone requests their presence and introduce yourself as the person sent to escort them. I know this because that's how we accidentally kidnapped one of them once.

Now, here's the current plan. I'm so thrilled to see how far we'll get before this, too, inevitably goes off the rails:

waltz into some random knightly looking camp. Ideally use the two most trustworthy looking people we have for this part

ask the noblewoman in the most elaborate fancy dress for her name. Claim that "Ah, yes! You're who we're looking for". Explain that her presence is requested by.... idk, improv. The king of god knows what, or sth. Tell her that we're there to escort her

(Ideally find a reason to take at least one other noblewoman or companion of hers along. Larpers are antisocial herd animals ans prefer to be with friends)

walk them away from their camp

(ask, out of character, if they're up for a brief abduction plot. After all these are real players who might have actual plans for the day. Kidnapping people can be rather rude if you're not considerate of their schedule)

bring them back to our camp. send someone to their own camp to announce their abduction and ask for some sum of silver to bring them back

meanwhile: idk, make sure they're not bored. Maybe introduce them to gambling while they're there. We've never had an issue with players of upper class characters not wanting to hang out with peasants and street gangs when you give them a reason to do so

profit.

[yuri-is-online]

congrats on 500 followers, you deserve it!! ^_^ i adore your writing! for the masquerade event, may i request prompt 11 with trey, jamil and rook? thank you so much!

11. There is a really lovely moon outside tonight that you find yourself admiring, but if you would just turn around you would find someone admiring you.

Annon my lovely annon how does it feel to have such a wonderful beautiful brain, this is perhaps the most perfect line up of characters for this prompt. I'm happy you like my writing and really hope you like this.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, I can't speak French so none of that for Rook, sorry I do not trust google translate. So many references to music in this one... the other event quests can be found on my masterlist.

Trey

If Trey had to pick something about himself he liked he would probably pick his height. It made certain things easier, like walking through crowds and looking at things in the far off distance. It makes these little emotions he has when he sees you easier to deal with, he can always excuse himself and observe from afar. Trey prides himself on being realistic about these sorts of things, prides himself on his restraint and ability to keep things calm.

But it's hard to deny the truth. Painful even. He can feel the ache even before he sees you, his hand even twitches with the desire to reach out and break your reverie. But he can't, you aren't exactly alone, you walked out on to the balcony with Ace and Deuce close at your heels. They're joking with you, distracting you from the moon and stars he thinks you wanted to observe, but you can't seem to bring yourself to be annoyed with them. That's fine, Trey can be annoyed enough for you both. He would never call himself "massive" but he is certainly blessed with a broad set of shoulders.

And an exceptionally creepy (Rook had insisted it was fancy, très magnifique) bird mask that sends the dynamic duo fleeing back to the ballroom "abandoning" you to your fate. He would be tempted to laugh but he does not want to talk to you just yet. You shake your head in amused affection, relaxing onto the railing and letting some of the night's tension roll off your shoulders. He does the same, trying to give you space but not avoiding you when you move closer.

"The moon is beautiful tonight." Trey says after he's let you have your moment, surprised when you turn to him with a flustered look on your face. "That's what you came here to look at, right?" You cough, not helping his certainty but the shy smile that flickers onto your face suggests he has not made a misstep, not exactly anyway.

"It's a nice night." You say. "Stay with me, won't you?" There's emotion to the request he's tempted to read into. Tempted to classify as the same longing he feels and barely swallows when he looks into your eyes.

"I'll stay as long as you like." He says softly, and tries not to smile too much when you lean your head onto his shoulder.

Jamil

He is in love. You look like a ridiculous child and he is in love, Jamil is smiling at every move you make like he is actually happy for once. It's all he can do to pull himself away from his hiding place out to the courtyard you have decided to to stargaze in, as much as he wants to continue admiring you he would rather no one else see him in this horrifying mood.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie~" You are dancing, he thinks, but it looks more like you are jumping trying to catch the moon in your hands, the rest of your silly song devolving into fits of giggles as you twirl, obsessing over the way the fabric of your costume follows you as you twirl. "Jamil!" You notice him the second he joins you, your hands immediately reach out for his. He lets you take him, lets you guide him in a jerky series of movements he knows aren't real dance moves. You're happy, and seeing him has made you happier.

"Just what are you doing?" He's almost laughing himself now, letting you guide him through your made up dance. "Wouldn't you rather be back in the ballroom?" You hum and shake your head.

"It's too busy in there, I wanted to look at the moon." Your dance slows to a gentle sway, Jamil takes advantage of the lull to take control of the flow, guiding you into a more structured dance. The silver light seems to kiss you, as if the moon is happy you came to look at her. Too bad, Jamil doesn't intend to let your attention wander back her way.

"You know, the view of the moon from Scarabia is especially beautiful, perhaps you would like a change of scenery when you're ready to leave." Jamil helps you twirl your costume, doing his best to guide you back towards the ballroom. He might have been spending his time hiding among the furniture of the ballroom, but he had a plan for tonight. One that involved you wrapped around his finger and waltzing well into the hours of the morning, and while he is not exactly picky about where-

He would very much like everyone to see just where you are ending your night.

Rook

The music in the ballroom drowns the tiny hymn that comes from the balcony. Even if anyone else had been looking for it, they would have found it impossible to hear, but Rook is no casual observer. To the casual observer, Rook is merely standing near the windows and their curtains, the Prefect's strange tune barely recognizable even there.

But then recognizable is not the right word. Rook highly doubts anyone in this world other than him had heard this song.

Initially you had walked onto this balcony because Grim had mentioned seeing a piano there earlier and that had struck you as odd. Why stick a piano out on a balcony if there was going to be a ball with live music inside the actual ballroom why stick an instrument out in the cold? You had thought it would look lonely, but the moon has decided to make it look romantic. Seeing no one around you settle yourself at the keys. And begin to try and play along with the tune in your head.

Rook holds himself back from going to you, telling himself to wait until you look his way, but you don't. You are content to sit and pluck at the piano, seeking the keys that match the memory of another world, another moon. He waits and waits, but still you only idly glance up at the night sky, and never his direction.

"What sweet torture," he murmurs into his mask "to be so ignored by such a perfect sight." As the music finds a stride you still hum, to his great relief. The pitch and quality of the melody matters little when observing someone's most private reflections. What matters is the far away look in their eye, the pride with which they rest their finished fingers on the keys and think aloud some words unlikely to be theirs but fitting all the same.

"Their song interweaves melancholy with moonlight, quiet moonlight so sad and lovely that it makes birds dream in their trees, while fountains sob in ecstasy..."* Your eyes finally turn his way and you startle. He pries his mask free from his face to reassure you of your safety; to you, it is like he has appeared from thin air, but you know him well enough that your surprised smile is more a courtesy than genuine surprise.

"Just how long have you been here Rook?" Your fingers twitch with embarrassment at the keys.

"I was lured here the moment you began to sing my lovely trickster." He bows, mask placed over his heart in genuine devotion. "Truly the power the your soul's voice has to command my steps is frightening." You sigh, embarrassment twinged with joy as you move yourself to make room for him by your side.

"Well then why don't you sit next to me and listen to just how badly I can butcher this piece." He very much doubts you could do such a thing, but who is he to deny your every request?

"My Trickster, I would love nothing more save you."

*Clair de Lune, Paul Verlaine 1869, translated by John Argo 2017. As a note to the interested reader, the linked song is named after the poem. I'm rather fond of it as I once owned a music box that played it.

[ladyzirkonia]

Until your song is written.

I must shamelessly take this opportunity to thank you all. Yesterday I reached 100 followers and I can't believe that there are so many people who enjoy reading my stuff. I would like to take this opportunity to open my question and request box. Don't be shy to send me questions or ideas you want to discuss, whether it is Dinbo stuff or something about Mandalorian culture.

This is the way.

The scene starts with a completely shattered Bo-Katan. You can tell that she has to pull herself together not to burst into tears. Her confession about the night of a thousand tears and the memory of it seem to torment her. She hears Din approaching and tries to compose herself by briefly closing her eyes.

I think Din apologizing to Bo is one of the most beautiful things in this scene. He admits once again in this season that he was wrong. Din Djarin knows no false pride and has no problem admitting mistakes. And he admits what's been said about her being selfish and uncaring isn't true. It seems to have touched him that Bo-Katan gave up the darksaber for her people, gave up the claim to the regency.

Din steps up to her after she repeatedly blames herself for everything. He tries to build her up, not downplay what she did or what happened, just making sure that he wants to help her. He says: ''WE will rebuild it.'' A foreshadowing that you both should bring the future for Mandalore?

She doubts herself, still. She has made so many mistakes, mistakes that are unforgivable, that she cannot undo. How is she supposed to be the one to hold her people together in all the animosity?

Din repeatedly makes it clear that this weapon means nothing to him and his people. I think it's really ironic that so many have a problem with Din giving up the darksaber. He just doesn't care. It's just a story, a legend that doesn't matter until people believe it. And he also makes it clear what really matters to him, he basically tells us what it means to him to be a good Mandalorian.

When Din mentions the term honor, she seems to sigh slightly and raises her head. She's heard those words from him too many times. For a short break it seems that his words are bothering Bo-Katan. Honor... This is the way. It seems to be a constantly repeating mantra.

Din appreciates Bo-Katan's loyalty and character. These things that have been most important to him since we saw him first time in season 1. And Bo seems to appreciate his words as you can see a very faint smile on her lips. It's good to hear such words after years of being reminded of her failure by others.

That's why I serve you Lady Kryce. After this words I really think Din Djarin's love language is act's of service as he showed many times to different people who he cared for. He is not a man of many or fancy words, but of deeds. So what's a better way to show his affection than to offer his services to her. She doesn't have to go through this alone, he wants to stand by her side.

Bo-Katan turns her head to him after his words. It's obvious that she wanted to hide her feelings before and remained with her back to him. Now she shows him her face for the first time in this conversation. Din Djarin has managed to amaze her time and time again, and her expression softens because of his words to her.

Din gives her hope. Your story is not over yet. Her song is not yet written. The Mandalorian's main musical theme sounds in the backround. He begins to weave his fate irreversibly into hers.

I know some people have wrote, more or less jokingly, that this could be Din Djarins wedding vow. But it's not that exaggerated and ridiculous. We must not forget that the Mandalorians are based on a clan system of warriors. If Mandalorians are one thing, it's very pragmatic. Marriage is consummated between the two partners alone and in any place. Just before or after a fight, the couple doesn't even have to be in the same place. The marriage can even be consummated via voice or text messages. (if you are interested in this kind of topic, please tell me!!)

Honor and loyalty means everything to Din. He would not lightly pledge his life to someone. It means exactly what you suspected, he stands by her side until death.

Screenshots are mine. Gifs made by the wondeful @itberice. Please go and leave a follow and some love there!