#your natural face looks AWFUL in comparison

[francisforever2014]

that post is so fucking reallllll like there's such limited space to just say . i hate makeup without 10000 caveats and placations that you're not Shaming those who do. like forever ago i was talking to my older friend who's kid was like 9 at the time and she asked me and our other friend "when is a good time to start letting [child] wear makeup bc she's been wanting to" and i said "never. makeup is evil." and immediately everybody was scandalized and like this is my fucking queer feminist friend group omg. and my other friend (who i always run into this issue with) always takes it so personally bc she is (or at least was at the time) big into the idea of "empowerment" and dressing "for you" and would always get so offended when i even suggested that she wasn't in fact dressing for herself and was dressing for male validation . which is a huge way that she gets attention and confidence like it's always been a thing for her (and we've talked about it and she's said this herself!!!) but for some reason when it comes to makeup people are so resistant . anyways to me it was really important to discuss this with my older friend bc like i said her daughter is close to the age where this becomes a thing and i want to discourage them from letting her wear makeup so young as much as possible but the conversation just stalls bc people are like well :( i like wearing makeup :( you can't tell me what to like :(

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I just know wade would be asking u to grind ur teeth down on it...i just know it....

hi anon ur so right wade actually has you do insane shit to him dick biting is just the BEGINNING‼️😮‍💨 and the first time he suggests it you’re mortified 😭 you’re giving him that gawk gawk 3000 typhoon top but he’s still kinda soft 😰 you’re lowkey worried feeling self-conscious about your head game until he cups your face and swipes his thumb across your cheek

“can i ask you a weird question?”

when you’re having sex with wade wilson, this could lead to literally anything. “does this bump on my nutsack look different than usual?”, “what’s your stance on the death penalty?”, “did i ever tell you about that time i got my dick stuck in the toaster?” you brace yourself for whatever batshit insanity is about to slide out of his mouth.

“yeah, go for it.”

“can you use your teeth on it? just, like… keep doing what you’re doing, please, it’s fucking amazing. i just want a little more texture.”

huh?! is he for real?! but you’ve worked so hard to NOT do that! years of toiling in the dick-sucking mines has trained that right out of you, and he wants you to throw all that away? why?! “uh… are you sure?”

he just laughs in response

“aw, you’re so cute! so sweet, worrying about me like that! think about it. why would i ask for this if i didn’t want you to do it, stupid boy?”

…y’know what? fair enough. you close your teeth around his shaft and cheese grater up and down the length of his throbbing, bumpy cock.

“OH~! fuck, just like THAT, baby, YES~! mmm… fu-u-ck, that’s perfect… like… like you’re trying to bite the batter off a corndog, baby, there you go…”

and when i say it gets worse from there i mean it gets WORSE!!!! like he’ll come up behind you while you’re cooking dinner.

“hey, slutter-butter, you got a minute?”

“uh… yeah, actually!” you put down the knife you were about to use to chop an onion, and spin around to face him. “haven’t really started yet, what’s—“

he’s holding a strap-on.

“yes, hi, this is wade wilson, i’ve got an appointment for a prostate exam at 4PM?”

you smirk and saunter towards him, eager to play along with this spontaneous bit, “hmm… i’m not seeing you on our records, mr. wilson. are you sure it was scheduled for today?”

“i’m not sure, actually. i’ve made that mistake before. but this clinic takes walk-ins, right?”

“yes we do, sir, but today’s been pretty busy.” you wrap your fingers around his on the silicone shaft and pull him into you. “but i’ll see if i can squeeze in you.”

wade bounces and squees with joy and hands you the strap. you don’t even get it all the way on your hips before he’s bending over. onto the stove. where you were preheating a cast-iron skillet.

“oh, shit, WADE—!”

“what?” he stares at you blankly, holding the hot pan you were about to use. he’s silent for a moment, then two, and then it clicks. “oh!” he sets the pan down in the sink, claps his hands together, then points at you. “forgot you’re a normie! logan fucks me over the stove all the time. doesn’t really matter for us, since we’re freaks of nature and third degree burns just tickle us psychosexually, but, uh… would you… wanna try it? do a little flambé action? roasted wade wilson breasts? i promise, it’s fun. it makes me moan like a coked-up whore late on rent.”

you snort at his stupid comparison, and it actually puts your mind at ease a bit. it doesn’t surprise you that him and logan get up to this kinda thing when you’re not around. in fact, you’re actually flattered to be allowed to take part in it. to take advantage of him like this.

“fuck it. bend over, you fucking weirdo masochist.”

“yippee! yay! thank you, daddy!!!”

wade eagerly yanks his shorts down, widens his stance, and slams his bare chest onto the glowing red burner. his leathery skin sizzles with the smell of cooked human flesh.

“ooooh, that feels so fucking good on my right nipple… lemme roll a little, get the other side, ah~! oh-h-h, it hurts so fucking good!!!”

you get into position behind him, but he holds his hand out backwards to halt you.

“wait! one more thing!”

he reaches over and grabs the gigantic chef’s knife, freshly sharpened and pristine, that you had lying on the cutting board next to a soon-to-be mutilated onion, and offers it to you.

“jam this through my palm when i say i’m getting close. that’s the finishing move. have me spraying a whole little league team out my dick.”

[fudgechocolatepuff]

a lovebirds bloom! 🌷

keigo t. x fem. reader | wholesome fluff :)

summary ⋆ ꪆৎ you with an unoccupied life intertwine paths with the fastest and busiest hero, where you both catch a break in your tranquil flower shop. lots of love in the air begin to unfold ꪆৎ

In contrast to the big city where everyone bustled to work in a hurry and longed for a minute more at home, you were met with a life you found quiet, but quite easy.

Fortunately, you were able to nag yourself a lovely position as a florist in a small flower shop tucked away from all the chaos that the streets carried.

You took your current job to be a gem, considering you had a never-ending obsession with flowers and bouquets since you entered high school that thankfully you kept as you approached your 20s.

Despite the fears that others had about these small jobs like lower compensation, you found peace in such a laid back and natural environment, an escape from the worldly problems that awaited you when you flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.

Of course, you were aware that the shop wasn’t very popular among those in the city, and you didn’t exactly “make bank” like you had intended to as a teen, but you still enjoyed the connections you made with your boss, your other 3 co - workers, and your clients. 

Due to the lack of popularity of the flower shop, it wasn’t normal that anyone of high status ever visited. They’d always be too busy with their inquires to bless you with their presence or had their assistants do it instead.

Until one day when you were browsing through your laptop, choosing and buying flowers from suppliers when you heard the jingle of the door bell ring faintly in front of you.

If there were anyone you weren’t expecting to walk in the shop to browse through the supply of plants, you definitely weren’t ready to see the number two hero in the country waltz through the door.

You stopped scrolling through the page you were on and stared at the hero, observing his movements in awe.

Out of all of the training your co-workers drilled into you, you had no idea how you were going to confront the winged hero.

Um, Hello?? Hero Hawks?? What brings you in our flower shop that’s literally the size of a dormitory room?? On a random sunday afternoon in the beginning of march?? What the flip??

The air of your workspace became too awkward for you to breathe in.

Gosh, it was just so random that such a well known hero like him would be in such a small flower shop like the one you worked in, the comparison was mortifying.

You knew that pro heroes existed, sure, but making interaction with them seemed like talking to someone of higher class.

Well, maybe it was like literally talking to someone of higher class, but in a scenario like this, it was 1000x more intimidating.

You watched his eyes as they glanced every few seconds in the ‘solid tones’ from the ‘pink’ selection to the ‘red’ selection, and then to the ‘baby blue’.

You weren’t the best analyst, but you quickly recognized the lost gaze he held in his eyes as he searched without a clue what he was even looking for in the first place.

It was kind of cute to see him so concentrated on some silly flowers.

Hawks then turned his head toward you and caught the admiration in your face, returning a gentle smile that made you mentally curse yourself for letting him catch you drool at him as if he were a masterpiece of art.

His revealed toned arms crossed against his chest definitely were a piece of art no doubt about that-

“ ‘scuse me, but could I steal you away for a minute? I jus’ need some help… doing all of this I guess,” the hero chuckled to you, his hand ruffling through the winded locks of his hair. 

Your knees shook at the warmth of his voice and his boyish laugh that you almost ignored the initial request all together as you treasured his being.

You swear his presence was a mesmerizing haze, leaving you dumbstruck for a few moments.

“Oh… oh! Yes, yes! I’ll be right there!” You exclaimed to him as you snapped out of your lovesick daze, skipping out from behind the register counter to resolve his flower fiasco.

You stood to his side, looking up at him with your hands clasped behind your back. “So, how can I help you today, Hawks?” 

His hesitation and ‘ah..’ that dragged out of his mouth revealed to you that he didn’t know how to start with his little issue. Poor him, you thought. Might’ve been a bizarre story for all you knew.

You assured him that you could help no matter how peculiar the situation.

Honestly, you wouldn’t mind if you had to stand there all day to listen to his melodic voice.

He put his hands in the fronts of his pant pockets as he began to explain,

“Alright, so, ya’ see, today happens to be one of my friends’ birthday, Mirko, I’m sure you know who she is, and ah.. I kinda forgot ta’ get her a present—hero duties and all, ‘course I’d forget, right?”

You nodded your head and hummed letting him know you were listening to his story.

He scratched the back of his neck as he continued,

“Only thing I can think of getting her right now are flowers, I know she likes them, but I dunno the first thing about flowers. You get where I am in this situation?” he smiled nervously, hoping you’d understand.

“Yeah, I have an idea,” you giggled, your hand making its way to cover your mouth as you poked fun at him, “kind of crazy how you would forget such an important birthday like that though.”

The hero put his hands up in defeat, “You got me there. That’s bad on my part, but at least I’m trying to salvage this,” he joked. “I’m just hung up on what to get her, I can’t picture any color, any theme, nothing.”

He turned to fully face you and tilted his head a bit to the right, a cheekier grin tugging at his lips. “Thankfully though I’ll be saved by the cutest florist who I’m sure will get me hooked up on the best selection of flowers.”

You felt your teeth suddenly grind against each other with a sharp breath you took in following after, making Hawks laugh at your stiffened reaction.

“So, what combination do you think would go well for today’s occasion?” He awaited your response with an owl-ish blink, crossing his arms again in anticipation.

Shaking off the embarrassment pooling in the core of your stomach, you took a moment to think.

‘Mirko.. although she appeared as a tough fierce woman, you personally believed she’d appreciate something elegant and light. (It made even more sense to you since the spring season would begin to bloom this week.)’

“I was thinking of something simple. Um, perhaps a pair of white roses and lavender baby’s breath..?” You searched Hawks’ eyes for any sign of approval, to which a glint in his eye shone as he looked back at you.

“I trust your judgment to whatever selection you make for me. I already know that I’ll leave this shop saved.”

His caring attributes and words were hypnotizing you as a timid smile curved at your lips and you held back the urge to utter an “awww.”

“I’ll get them wrapped up for you right now, it shouldn’t take too long.”

You still couldn’t fathom the fact that Hawks was literally the only one in the shop with you, it didn’t feel real, more like a dream where everything around you would turn into clouds and the two of you would levitate towards eachother until your lips met-

snip snip!

Hawks’ knuckles knocked rhythmically on the counter as his leaned figure watched yours snipping the stems of snow white roses.

He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger over your delicate fingers, handling the plants so well. He bet your touch was as gentle as a feather.

What was he thinking.

Hawks felt his heart tighten. He wasn’t sure if it was out of flattery, but his pinkening cheeks told him otherwise.

He should stop by this place more often.

He gulped down his thoughts, pupils looking up at you showing off your work to the hero.

The boquete was decently sized, definitely not small. The flowers were spread out and mixed evenly making the colors appear vibrant. From the stem up, the plant bunch was wrapped in a lovely baby pink sheet.

You extended your arm to his face, obliviously poking him in the cheek with the flowers as you finalize your final touches with a little ‘shift’ here and a ‘shift’ there.

“It’s not the best I’ve whipped up, but I hope this is good enough for Mirko.”

Standing up straight, Hawks took the boquete out of your hands, ever so slightly making sure to brush his fingers against yours, transferring the jolt of electricity from his body to yours.

It would be criminal to ignore a gesture like such. Who were you kidding—it left your beating heart throbbing, yearning for more contact. You had to keep it professional.

His hawk-like eyes stabbed daggers into yours, releasing a spell that couldn’t let you look away from the man in front of you.

“Knew I could trust you. Cutest flowers I’ve ever seen. They’re perfect.” he insisted, face not faltering one bit as he kept his eye contact with you—not looking away for a second—and craned his head the tiniest bit to the right to steal another flustered smile from you.

You hoped that he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

The three seconds that you and Hawks took engulfing each other in the moment felt like it lasted three years.

Yes, it was cliché, no need to yell it in your face, but it was nice. For both you and Hawks.

You had a delightful change of pace in your uneventful days, and with the most gorgeous man your eyes ever laid upon? Come on, you had to enjoy this.

You were a lovely girl to be around, really. Something about your personality just felt soothing after all the mental and physical wounds he endured throughout the years.

He couldn’t just leave it all here though. He was no casanova—quite the opposite, actually—but he knew you two had some sort of connection.

Hell, maybe he was delusional about this, but he couldn’t care less. He felt his stomach sink whenever he looked back at you, depicting whether it were butterflies or not.

He cleared his throat. “Well, thanks for the flowers, sweetheart. I better move along now, duty calls. How much do I..”

“Oh..! No, no, don’t worry about it, it’s on me this time,” You stimbled an awkward, but sincere smile as your fingers subtly fidgeted with a strand of your hair, gliding up and down the piece.

Hopefully the ‘understanding’ sprinkled into your smile would console him of his awkwardness. Even you could see it, and that was saying something.

The winged hero returned a soft grin to that, muttering a “thank you.” as he made his way to the door, his hand hovering over the handle.

He turned his head back to look at you, capturing your image in his mind so he could replay it over and over when he made his leave.

Raising your hand to wave him goodbye, you wondered when the next time you’d see him would be, or if you would ever even see him again. It felt bittersweet.

“Come back again soon.”

“I plan to do so.” He professed, pulling the door open and taking a few steps out the shop before he took off into the city, leaving you shocked and still in the shop by his bold remark.

If anyone were to be zipping through the winds at a decently fast speed, it’d be normal to be a bit cold.

But in this case, the winged hero was warming up the more your shop came out of view. He whipped out his phone from his pocket and opened his “imessage”.

hawks:

i think i just met the love of my life. and kind of ruined it sent 1m ago

rumi:

you dumbass. sent just now

a/n: longest and might be the corniest thing i ever wrote, cute tho! last part was kind of a joke, idk if hawks would acc text ppl like that. lmk if i should do another part! love uuu! 💗

[hydn-jpg]

redraw of this piece!! i mentioned in that post that i would redraw it at some point and ig that time is now! (i meant to post this before id2 came out but i got really busy so y'know lol better late than never)

i like to think i've improved! still can't draw chairs though haha

side by side comparison under the cut + rambly artist commentary(?):

i still have a long way to go in learning proper anatomy but i think the new pose looks a lot more natural and comfortable! also ~sexier~ perhaps

i tried to make the bg look closer to the actual cg they used in the book, i am arguably better at doing backgrounds now i think! i used to not put a lot of thought into it and just blocked out random shapes and called it a day (okay, i still do that now lol but i put more care into it now !! i try to make the shapes a bit more distinct and actually plan and sketch it out rather than draw some blobs and hope for the best ldkfkhsl). also more colour range(?) to give it a bit more depth!!)

i'd also like to add that i think i'm also better at figuring out compositions now, idk how it is for y'all but when i look at the original my eyes can't help but just fall to the centre, bc there's no focal point(?) or anything that's visually interesting for the eyes to land on. plus with the way it's structured, my eyes just naturally fall to center (+ bottom half bc the skin showing through the rips are bright in contrast to the black) >_> in contrast, in the redraw your eyes are automatically drawn to the face bc it's arguably the most interesting thing on the canvas and thus acts as the visual anchor of sorts (plus there is enough contrast with the background to make cas stand out instead of blend in)

even though i cringe looking at the og i can't help but to also feel endeared bc this was one of the first immortal desires fanart i ever did and also one the first of my posts to do really well! i never expected to get that much attention since i was only posting casually but it really warmed my heart reading all the lovely comments and motivated to draw more :D

it's also really fun seeing how much my art style and techniques have evolved! i don't think i use any of the same brushes i used to use for my old pieces anymore now haha. i also watched the timelapse for the old one and am honestly kind of in awe at how my different my drawing process used to be!!

i still have a lot to learn (esp in terms of anatomy, lighting, shading etc.) but i'm happy with where i am rn! the great thing about being a hobbyist is that there isn't really any pressure for me to improve quickly so i can just take my time haha (except maybe from imposter syndrome but that's neither here nor there)

i think i could've drawn his face and expression a bit better but i think this is a satisfying enough redraw for now!

btw, these are just my thoughts! i am not an art student so the things i said might not be technically correct but this is how i make sense of things in my brain

[galamalion]

୨୧. 𝐏𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍'

summary. you and sanji go on a date to pick out some perfect pumpkins for the season.

⤷ contents. vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader, fluff + romance, sanji being a sweetheart

⤷ notes. hello! i'm going to try and write a lot until the end of october in order to get out all my halloween ideas, so this'll be the first! enjoy this little pumpkin date <3

autumn was your favorite season for a very long list of reasons.

first of all, its beauty had no comparison. watching the leaves change colors from emerald to cherry red all over the course of a couple weeks was a sight you could never tire of, in awe of nature’s power over its creations.

secondly, the anticipation for halloween was impossible to ignore, and you already had both your costume picked out and a list of activities to take part in the moment the calendar turned october first.

and lastly, the flavors that arose during the chilly season were absolutely exquisite. a hot apple cider for those cold afternoons, or a slice of pumpkin pie made by your one and only personal chef.

“ah, mon chou~! how about this one?” he called out, holding a pumpkin high above his head for you to see.

sanji really was a dream come true, acting as your prince during your weekly fall outings, participating alongside your autumnal activities. he would find you the most brilliantly red leaf among a raked up pile, helped to sew your matching costumes, and he would make your favorite fall treats for you! he was attentive, elegant, and the greatest boyfriend you would ever get.

“a little bigger, sweetie! i wanna do some pumpkin carving with it!” you shouted back, scouring the field for your dream pumpkin,

“oui!” he exclaimed, gently setting the pumpkin back onto the ground. 

you grabbed a nearby small pumpkin, “how about this one, sanji?” you asked, spinning it around for him to see.

“less blemishes, sweetheart! i’m looking for firm and plump!” you didn’t miss the way he wiggled his eyebrows at you, drawing an eye roll from you in response.

an hour of pumpkin judging passed between you two, and a few contenders had risen to your high standards. you carried around five tiny pumpkins in your tote bag, though sanji was aiming for ten due to luffy’s voracious appetite. sanji was hauling two perfectly symmetrical pumpkins, one for each of you to use.

the sun hadn’t quite set yet, a glow still rested on the field for you and sanji to continue picking, but the sky was slowly beginning to fill with oranges and pinks which cast a pastel shimmer of color across your face. sanji stared at your appearance from across the field, taking in the way the soft light struck your visage and framed you beautifully, like a divinity choosing to grace him with your presence. 

“you think ten will really be enough for luffy?” you shouted, picking up a pumpkin to examine it.

sanji snapped back to attention, blinking rapidly as he formulated his thoughts, “i- well i suppose no, when taking his prior portion sizes into account…and if we invite sabo and ace there as well…” 

“at least sabo has manners!” you yelled, chucking any spoiled pumpkins over your shoulder. “i once saw ace use someone else’s pants as a napkin! not even his own! can you believe that, sanji?”

sanji’s focus once again faltered, watching as your lips moved wildly in your frustrated-amused rant. god, how he wanted to kiss you right now. i mean, you both deserve a break right now, right? you’ve been working so hard these past few hours…a little break never hurt anybody, right?

you continued raving and skipped across the fields, unaware of sanji’s devious musings, searching for some more perfect pumpkins for your perfect boyfriend. your deep and intense focus on your little pumpkin hunt led to you missing your perfect boyfriend disappearing from his row of pumpkins, silently creeping up behind you. 

“oh mon ange,” he whistled, “i believe just found the prettiest pumpkin in the pumpkin patch!” his slender, long fingers wrapped around your waist, lifting you high above and eliciting a shriek.

“put me down, you sneak!” you teased, jokingly kicking your legs in an attempt to get loose of his hold.

“but then my pumpkin might run away!” he lamented, twirling you around in circles, sidestepping any precarious pumpkins in the way of his feet. 

“as if i’d run away from you,” you replied, trying to ruffle his blonde locks up in the air.

sanji contemplated your words, throwing you down into a bridal carry while he pondered your response. after a minute of totally-real reflection, he flashed you a big ol’ pout.

“you pinky promise?” he whined, kneeling to the ground with you still in his arms, slipping his arm out from under your knees to offer a pinky.

“i pinky promise, my love.” you kissed him on the forehead, causing a heavy flush to don his cheeks and he rolled around the dirt-covered fields in bliss.

you approached his squirming body and gently touched him with the tip of your foot. “get up, mr. prince, i still need someone to carry our pumpkins!” you sung, slinging your bag across your shoulders and attempting to heave sanji to his feet, “unless you’d like me to leave you here…”

immediately sanji arose in dramatic fashion, sprinting back to grab the pumpkins he had abandoned. with ease he lifted them, returning back to your side as if he wasn't carrying two extremely heavy gourds.

“your prince is here! now what are your next commands, my liege?” he announced, dropping to one knee and kissing your hand.

“hmmm…” you brought your hand to your chin, tapping it in 'deep' thought, “you have to help me find more of your pie-pumpkins, and then we can go home and make cider!” you cheered, grasping his hand and running towards the baby pumpkins.

“anything for you, mon amour,” he swooned, watching the sun cast a luminous amber glow across your skin, “anything for you.”

[hisui-dreamer]

eyes on the target

Pairing: Rook Hunt x gn!reader

Synopsis: Rook offered to teach you archery, but what you didn't expect is to get overwhelming close to him.

Tags: pining, crushes, archery, rook speaks french, reader has strength in their upper arms (i dont), bot proofread

Word count: 712

Notes: rook's been on my mind/page too much lately, so here is some basic rook thirst hehe

Masterlist

The cerulean sky stretched out like an endless canvas, a perfect backdrop for the exquisite day. Not a single cloud marred its perfection, leaving the serene expanse of blue completely unbroken. It was as if the sky had been painted by a master artist, each brush stroke carefully and meticulously applied.

But that sight paled in comparison to the man before you.

Rook stood with his bow and arrow, his emerald eyes narrowed with laser focus, shining like precious jewels in the sunlight. His hair flowed like liquid gold, dancing with the wind in a breath-taking rhythm. With a fluid motion, his fingers delicately plucked at the taut string, as if coaxing a melody from an instrument. His muscles were like sculpted marble, chiselled and defined, each movement a work of art in itself. You felt like a delicate flower in his presence, swaying in the breeze at the mere sight of him, yet transfixed, unable to look away as he released the string. The arrow shot forth like a bolt of lightning, finding its mark with lethal accuracy.

It was as if he was not quite human, but some kind of ethereal being, too perfect for this world. You longed to etch the image of him in your mind, to savour this moment of beauty and awe.

"You make it look so easy," you said, unable to hide the admiration in your voice.

Rook turned to face you, a cheerful glint in his eye. "It's all about technique, Trickster," he replied, brushing off his display of skill with a charming smile. "Are you ready to learn?"

Feeling self-conscious and flustered by his proximity, you nodded hesitantly. Rook positioned himself behind you, his tall frame casting a warm shadow over yours. As he leaned in closer, you could feel the heat of his breath on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"Relax," Rook whispered, his tone as soothing as a gentle breeze. "Focus on the target, and breathe in." His gloved hand gently guided yours as he showed you how to hold the bow, his touch igniting a fire in your veins.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart. With Rook's hand on yours, you drew the string back, aiming at the target with trembling fingers. His close proximity made it hard to concentrate, but his voice was a constant reassurance, guiding you through each step

"Good," Rook said, full of encouragement. "Now, release."

You let go of the arrow, watching it fly through the air and hit the boss with a satisfying thud, only slightly off-centre. Rook applauded, his face beaming with pride. "Beauté! You're a natural, Trickster!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

You felt a heat rising in your cheeks as you blushed at his words, the gentle curve of his lips making your pulse quicken. "It's all thanks to your guidance," you replied.

"C'est n'importe quoi ! You’re truly talented!" Rook exclaimed, taking a step back as he gestured for you to take another shot. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move with a piercing gaze that made your heart race. You had always wanted him to notice you, but with his predatory gaze on you, it was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

As you focused on the target, the sound of his voice filled your ears like a warm embrace, reassuring and comforting, making you feel safe and secure in his presence. And with each successful hit, you felt like a flower blooming under his praise, your heart soaring with joy and pride.

Like an hourglass with sand slipping away, you felt time slipping through your fingers, wanting desperately to grasp onto the moment forever. You couldn't help but want the moment to last forever, the warm sun on your skin and the scent of fresh grass in the air, and his attention solely on you.

Little did you know, he had the same exact thoughts. His eyes fixated on you, his heart throbbed in unison with yours, and his mind was filled with thoughts of your presence. He wondered how long the tantalizing dance of courtship would continue, and how many more moments like this would be stolen away before he could call you his.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Reflected Through the Looking Glass (Part Two)

Lucifer Morningstar (The Sandman) x fem! Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

Summary: Lucifer’s pretty little angel learns a few things; never trust too quickly, and never judge a book by its cover. Hell isn't welcoming, Mother is nowhere to be found, and trouble has a knack for finding the Reader throughout the maze of twisted answers and lies. Is Lucifer truly the savior Reader was looking for, or merely a demented shell of what they were created to be? (Too many 'hell' puns).

Warnings: A little angsty, sensuality used as a form of manipulation. Brief smut (simulated masturbation R receiving, nipple play R receiving, groping R receiving), mild elements of dub-con (Reader gives verbal consent but has limited knowledge of what sex is and what it contains), confusion regarding post-coitus/ sexual activity [Adding in additional info regarding the very brief smut scene just to be safe. It is quick and practically glossed over, PWP.]

A/N: The LONG awaited part two! This series is still not finished, unfortunately my first semester at Uni really took a lot of time and energy out of me. I appreciate everyone's patience and understanding. It appears that my writing slump is momentarily abating, and I am better coping with managing my courses and other adulting things. Anyways, comments and feedback are ALWAYS appreciated and welcome. :)

Word Count: 2.1k

The morning of this sacrilegious place took away the mysticism and otherworldly nature of Lucifer’s domain. The screams that were once eerie and fear-inducing felt... Old. Lucifer's arms that had once been inviting and calming paled in comparison to the safety Mother's gnarled hands had given. Hell was hell. It smelled awful, you realized, curling your face deeper into the bedsheets. Sulfur and other dastardly concoctions of filth drifted upward into the room from the open window. Lucifer stood in front of the window, their hands clenching against the dark stone.

"Little one, come here." they sighed.

Sliding out of bed your feet made clumsy progress, and you managed to stumble over towards them, much to their amusement.

"Like a wee lamb, precious." Lucifer cooed, bringing you into their arms.

The embrace was... Restrained. Lucifer pulled the robes tighter around you, frowning in distaste.

"You should cover yourself more, my love." the quietly scolded.

You chewed your lip in anxiety, pausing when you felt the sting of your busted lip that was still healing. Lucifer was... Off somehow. The warm protector had changed into a preoccupied guardian, their thoughts elsewhere.

"You need a name."

The thought was odd. Surely you had a name... Right? Mother would have named you, you were 'little one'. That's what Lucifer called you too.

"I have a name." you answered, brow quirked naively.

Lucifer's gaze darkened, nostrils flared as they breathed in and out rapidly.

"What do you mean? Who named you?" they demanded, gaze growing dangerous.

It was scary, this sudden shift in behavior. Surely it was not aimed at you? Regardless of the intent of their anger, you shrunk away, raising your wings and covering yourself like a frightened bird.

"I'm 'little one'. That's what Mother calls me. It's what you call me too." you whispered, eyes filled with fear.

Lucifer immediately softened, laughing good-naturedly. They gently reached for you, combing your hair back, cradling your face affectionately.

"Oh, sweet one, that's just a pet name. No, a name is a title. It signifies ownership of creation. And you, my sweet one, were created for me."

You nodded at the notion, turning it over in your head. There was a hang up, naturally. You were created by Mother. Surely Mother would name you?

"What do you mean, I was created for you?"

Lucifer pursed their lips for a moment, considering their response.

"There is another power in this world. A deity, of sorts. I am both that deity's and Mother's creation. But you are entirely Mother's creation. And you were created as my counterpart, a reward for my allegiance to this other deity."

The story made sense, and the slow, methodical way with which Lucifer spoke complimented your ignorance surrounding the world around you. Most things you could piece together from what you'd observed in the century or so you'd been awake. But larger things involving higher powers and domains still confused you.

"Your counterpart?"

Lucifer smiled, bringing you into their arms.

"My other half, my partner, my beloved, my everything." they cooed.

Partner. Well that was a twist.

An impish creature shrieked into the room, jumping and bristling like it was on fire.

"Your imminence, their has been a breach!" the imp shouted, cutting short the tender moment.

Lucifer scowled, shielding you from the gaze of the imp.

"What have I said about barging in when I am with my angel?" Lucifer growled. "She is for me, she is *mine*, she is not for your eyes or anyone else's! I should have you beaten!"

The imp whined, it's ears flattening against the back of it's head. It was a sickeningly sad sight, and it made your heart ache.

"Lucifer, it did not mean it," you defended the poor creature, looking up at the leader of Hell imploringly.

Their gaze went hard, and you feared for a moment that they were going to reprimand you too, but it was for naught. Instead they reached forward bringing you in.

"My angel is very accommodating of other's mistakes." they gently mused. "But the imp has made a serious transgression against my beloved in the name of haste. I will take your views into consideration, but I must attend both to the breach and to the disobedience that runs rampant."

Lucifer turned themselves, hooking a finger under your chin. They seemed to consider you deeply, blue eyes skimming over your features. Then, with a slight smirk, they leaned forward, placing a slow, wet kiss on your lips.

"I'll see you soon, beloved."

Lucifer gracefully released you from their grasp, following the whimpering imp out of the room. Though without activity, you were occupied extensively by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your head. Lucifer was not some protector, not like Mother had been. They were your partner, and according to Lucifer, you'd been made for them. What was the word they'd used? Counterpart? Counter; against or corresponding to. Part; apart, a piece of something. You were corresponding to part of Lucifer, or perhaps you were a piece that connected to the whole part. The extensive thinking of the eccentricities of words and meanings gave you a slight head ache. Never before had you so deeply analyzed such a simple bit of information.

Mother had always promised you a day sometime in the distant future where you would join her outside of the cradle, where you would be allowed to walk and fly amongst her and her creations, helping her with the Earth and it's many duties. That day had been yesterday... Except... You'd been forcefully taken from the cradle by the dryads. Yes, that is what happened. You'd been afraid, the dryads had been afraid. The outer world had burned and creaked, there had been screaming, destruction, and from that pain Lucifer had appeared.

From one trauma to another, Lucifer had removed you from the good, the safe, the dependable, and thrust you into a world of pain, confusion, and obscurity. Lucifer's domain was that of pain and suffering, you realized. The pain and suffering of Mother's domain had arrived shortly after them. What kind of hell had they thrown you into?

<------------->

"Sweet thing, you seem to be quite the thinker." Lucifer mused, drawing a hand over your shoulder.

You'd spent the hours they'd been away pacing and concerning yourself with the dilemmas of both your situation and awareness. Your body had begun to catch up with your mind, although both were advancing at rapid, nearly blinding rates.

"I have a lot to think about."

Lucifer chuckled at this.

"You need a name, little one. That is what you should be thinking about. I've decided on the perfect one, you need only say 'yes'."

Having a choice in your own name? Surely it was an illusion.

"I see." you nodded, twitching your wings in thought.

"From here on, you will be called (Reader)." Lucifer whispered, bending down to press a kiss on your ear. "You're mine now. I've named you, and that makes you every bit my creation and my beloved."

Their logic felt skewed. You were skeptical, but Lucifer tolerated it.

"Come, dear. I believe it is time we explore the benefits of this relationship."

Their hands trailed down resting on your hips, pulling your back against their front. Lips remained hot on your ear, and an unfamiliar feeling stirred in the pit of your belly.

"Little angel, my little (Reader), do you know what being my counterpart means?"

You shook your head, 'no'.

"It means that we share things with each other that no one else does. Do you remember that kiss from earlier? That's an example of something you only give me. And when we took the bath together? All of your beauty is for me to see, and me only."

Possessiveness vibrated from every conceivable pore of their body. The large, sinewy black wings bore down upon you, covering your soft, pale white wings, hiding them from the light. It was both a metaphor and a reality. Lucifer had taken you from the light, they had taken you from your rightful place among the good, natural things of Mother's Earth and brought you down into the recess of this hellish province.

"You took me away from Mother." you stubbornly retorted.

Lucifer paused at this, their breath ghosting moisture upon your neck.

"I did, but only because you belong here with me." they answered, kissing your neck sensually.

The action caused your breath to hitch. It felt good. Strange, a little unwelcome in it's profound effect on your body, but good.

"Do it again." you asked, curious to see if the stimulation would have a similar effect the second time.

Lucifer chuckled, placing a longer, wetter, sinfully erotic kiss on the other side of your neck. It did have a similar effect, but the feeling from earlier fused with the added arousal, and it seemed to cloud your senses.

"See..? I told you that we were made for each other. No one knows your body like I do. Nobody can please it like I could."

Their hands trailed to the tie of your robe, jerking it down.

"This body? It was made for me. Everything I could desire, everything I could ask for in a partner is right here.

They kissed your neck again, nibbling and sucking the flesh intermittently. The feelings growing in your lower abdomen, you believed it was referred to as your womb or pelvic floor, grew. Leaning against them, you watched with interest as they trailed their hands over your stomach.

"Can I touch your breasts?" Lucifer crooned.

You frowned, but then you nodded. The devil chuckled, reaching up to cup them. It was a generically pleasant feeling, and then they slowly began circling their thumbs over your nipples. The sensation was odd, for the first few moments, and then it became pleasurable. Sensation travelled down to your core, and it amazed you that such places could be connected so. Lucifer hummed in approval, continuing to plant slow kisses over your neck.

"Does your pelvic area feel funny?"

You nodded. It ached, in a both exciting and frustrating way. Lucifer smirked, dipping their hand down, resting it right above your pubic mound.

"May I?"

"Yes."

Long, thin fingers parted your labia, a finger slowly circling around a bud. It was the clitoris. It felt good, and you let out a soft gasp, followed by a moan. Lucifer chuckled, continuing to rub slow circles around the bud. Your mind grew foggy from that point on. One hand squeezing your breast, pinching your nipple, the other rubbing slow circles over your clit. A rising sensation, like an incoming tide drew over you, and bliss. A few soft moments of bliss, like a release.

"Good..." they cooed. "Very good."

Your brain felt foggy, your legs were tired. The added strain of the experience combined with the exhaustion of using them for such prolonged periods caused them to ache. Lucifer carried you into the bath, climbing in with you like the night previous. Few thoughts circled your head as they washed you. Most of them were conflicting. The act of sex... Had it been sex? You weren't sure. It had felt good, but it hadn't felt... Natural. Moreso you felt a little used, like Lucifer had manipulated your body to avoid more questions regarding Mother, regarding the world around you.

As their soft hands washed away the minimal dust from you, an overwhelming urge to cry came over you. Tears poured down your cheeks, and you found yourself briefly wishing that you could go back to Mother. Briefly wishing turned into profusely wishing. Lucifer's hands did little to console you, and for the first time you saw a flicker of doubt cross their features. You weren't supposed to be crying, what you had just shared had been pleasurable, good.

"Honey, sweet lamb, I didn't mean to confuse you." Lucifer whispered, stroking your back desperately. "That was supposed to be good, a loving thing to share... I've screwed up, I'm sorry."

Eventually the tears subsided. The bathtub turned into garments. Garments turned into food. This time you noticed the sourness of the fruit, like it was on the verge of going bad. The small seeds got stuck in your teeth. You winced as you spit them out. This time you noticed the insecurity of Lucifer's embrace. Cracks were showing. Lies were unravelling. But which ones, whether they were lies you could even guess upon, those were unsure.

<------------>

Far above Hell, Mother crawled from the cradle. Her Earth remained charred, the fields remained lifeless, and a low growl came from her lips.

"Where is Kore?"

A/N: SURPRISE!!! Greek mythology infused with Christian lore? Who would do such a thing?

Tags: @vii-v @s-c-rambledegggs @lakita-fisher @kermidd5 @popularpop

[LMK if you want to be tagged in future parts]

[chevelleneech]

Hi. What are your thoughts on all rameyon talk??

I’m genuinely curious why some of y’all send messages with multiple punctuation marks? Is there a different meaning behind them these days? I’m “old” so maybe there isn’t as much urgency implied anymore. Idk.

Anyway, my take on their use of ramyeon this time, is somewhere in the middle. I initially thought they were just talking about food, but upon watching the clip back later I heard JK sing “3D” the way he said Jimin sings it, and then Jimin sang it back to him. Before Jungkook sang it though, he immediately hit Jimin on the back with his towel.

So… contrary to what seems to be the common assumption about Jimin being flirty this time, I actually think he really was talking about food. It seems like JK’s mind was the one to instantly jump to sexy times, and him hitting Jimin was what triggered JM realizing what he said was understood as an innuendo.

Obviously Jimin knows the slang reference, but I think it was one of those moments where it simply wasn’t on his mind. He was hungry and wanted to eat, but JK’s mind went to the gutter, but I don’t think either of them were really asking for sex. I think they were just playing with the innuendo for a second, but ultimately were talking about whether or not they should eat.

ITS2, however, I think was likely a genuine example of them being intentionally suggestive. The way they laughed back then seemed way too on the nose.

As for my overall thoughts of them making this joke… 1) they’re adults. Grown people make sex jokes literally all the time. I know some fans don’t like to view the members as “immature”, but it just kind of is a thing. Sex talk is funny, even to people in their late twenties near thirties and older.

2) If there really is something going on between them, sex jokes are a natural part of being with someone. Particularly if the two of you are sexually active.

For example, I would bet money that had the pool not had a glass insert, we would not have seen the beginning of their antics in it. Based solely on the look on his face, and the look Jungkook had when he glanced at the cameras and told Jimin the wall was see through, Jimin planned to get handsy. Not handsy, but much more in JK’s space. Hands on his chest or something, not to speculate too far.

I mean, objectively Jimin got in the water and moved toward JK pretty quickly, and the look on Jungkook’s face was totally, “Oh shit, wait a second.” To be honest, the more I think about it, the more that moment in the pool was one of the more damning things they’ve done.

We know they put their mouths on each other. For a fact, we know that. JK did it in front of an audience, but I truly don’t think he realized how visible him sucking Jimin’s ear was. Then Jimin, unprovoked, admitted to biting on Jungkook’s neck in private. So my assumption is that had the pool wall been solid, and JM and JK actually started embracing or overtly flirting, the crew would have just turned the cameras off and turned their backs or walked away, because again, they get paid to see and hear nothing.

And I don’t want to turn this into some deep conspiracy thing or anything, but camera crews and managers and assistants and makeup teams and so on are the backbone of all entertainment industries, and they know everything. They’re just paid and are contractually obligated to pretend like all of it is fallacy. Aside from rolling on abusers and awful people, these people aren’t likely to ever spill any sort of truths. Not until their NDA expires, and even then, how often do we hear from them?

Don’t get me wrong, I know plenty spill the beans for a quick buck, but in comparison to how many exist? It’s not even a quarter. Especially when it comes to queer relationships and closeted celebrities. No one is trying to deal with the public shaming that comes with outing someone, unless they themselves are a horrible person.

So yeah. I got off track, lol, but I do think there was a smidge of flirtatiousness going on this time, but it wasn’t as serious as it was during ITS2. Nor do I think it was more risqué than the flirting Jimin planned to do in the pool, before he was interrupted by the reality of the glass wall.

[nightingalespen]

Signed L.W

Author's note:

Hi all, I am so excited to share my first fanfic. This is a huge milestone for me, as I have always been an admirer of fanfiction and its writers. The writing process on this particular story has been a true whirlwind of emotions but I am proud of how this first chapter has turned out. I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do and I can't wait to share the next few chapters in just a couple of days. I love y'all and hope you like the fic xoxo Nightingalespen 💋💫

Chapter 1 :

The reader enjoys a serene walk in Central Park, captivated by the beauty of the autumn season. They have a chance encounter with a striking silver-haired woman, leaving them intrigued and regretful for not learning more about her. Determined to break free from their mundane routine, they plan to meet their friend Harper for an exciting adventure in the city.

Chapter 1

Reader’s POV~

As you stepped onto the familiar path that meandered through Central Park on a crisp fall day, a steaming cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn't help but smile at the vibrant hues of oranges, yellows, and reds that adorned the surrounding trees. The cool breeze rustled the leaves, creating a mesmerizing symphony that serenaded your every step. With each inhalation, the air carried the unmistakable aroma of decaying leaves, leaving an earthy scent lingering in your nose. The sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dancing shadows upon the ground, almost as if the trees themselves were eager to join in the autumn festivities. As you took a sip from your warm cup, the soothing liquid traveled down your throat, radiating a comforting warmth throughout your body. The sip of caffeine invigorated your senses, enhancing the already delightful experience of being in the heart of nature. Your eyes wandered as you strolled through the park, capturing snippets of laughter from families playing in the nearby playground and the distant hum of street performers entertaining passersby. More and more people appeared, each reveling in the wonders of the season, clad in cozy sweaters and scarves, their breath forming small, airy clouds in the chilly air.

Lost in the tranquil ambiance of the park, your attention was suddenly diverted as you accidentally bumped into someone. Startled, you looked up to find a striking silver vixen standing before you, her piercing sapphire eyes reflecting the surrounding landscape. She possessed an air of elegance, with every strand of her silver updo meticulously in place. Apologizing for your clumsiness, you couldn't help but notice how this chance encounter punctuated the enchantment of the fall day. The silver vixen seemed to acknowledge your words with a nod, as if understanding your apology. One could say, “She exuded an awe-inspiring elegance, heightened by her extraordinary height. Her attire, a tasteful blend of vintage pieces, bold initials adorning her handbag, her hair impeccably coiffed in a blonde Alfred Hitchock-esque style, asserting its role as an accent to her wardrobe.” For a brief moment, time stood still. As you watched the silver vixen disappear into the distance, an inexplicable pang of regret washed over you. You cursed yourself inwardly for not mustering the courage to inquire about her name, to unravel the mystery behind her presence in the park. How could you let such an extraordinary encounter slip away without even knowing who she was? With a sigh, you continued to navigate through the bustling park, your thoughts consumed by the missed opportunity. As you walked, the crunching of leaves beneath your shoes mirrored the turmoil within your mind. The vibrant colors of fall, once so captivating, now seemed to pale in comparison to the older woman’s allure. 

Larissa’s POV~

As she made her way through the bustling crowd of Central Park, a sudden jolt caused her to stumble backwards. She turned around and lowered her gaze, expecting to find an apologetic face, but instead, she was met with the sight of a young woman, clutching her coffee cup tightly in one hand, her face drawn with worry. It was clear she had been entirely absorbed in her own world, unaware of her surroundings. And in that moment, she couldn't help but become captivated by her.

Her graceful features and youthful energy were truly enchanting. The way her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, the mischief that twinkled in her eyes, and the genuine warmth that radiated from her smile all seemed to make her simply adorable. She couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for this young woman who seemed completely lost in her own little world while she clung onto her precious cup of coffee. As she hurriedly apologized for the collision, Larissa reassured her with a simple nod of her head that it was a mere accident, though secretly, she cherished the brief encounter. 

[merbear25]

Heehee, I'm sending you another immortal reader request, could you do it with 3 of the Nordics (your choice for which ones). Reading the immortal reader x hetalia is really tickling my brain! -🪽

Hello, lovely 🪽 anon! Glad to see you again :) I'm glad I'm helping tickle your brain. We all need that sometimes tbh. I tried so hard not to use elves in these because hot damn they're everywhere in Norse mythology. I hope you like what I've written for you 💜💜

a/n: I read a few slightly conflicting stories on the physical appearance of a Keiju (one being tiny, the other being a slightly smaller human) so please forgive me if it's a bit off.

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

CW: fluff, headcanons, slight angst in Denmark's, these creatures are typically depicted as women in folklore but no pronouns are used for reader.

Meeting an immortal (Norway, Denmark, Finland)

Norway: Huldra Reader

Wandering the forests, you found a lot of solitude amongst the trees. With so many settlements popping up on the outskirts, your curiosity was piqued.

Observing the new people, you caught glimpses of a light-haired man who looked to be rather young in comparison to the others. It seemed they were organizing the layout of the soon to be village. Watching from afar, you thought of ways to work your magic on your unsuspecting prey.

He was scouting the area for good places to fish when you stealthily stalked him behind the trees. The lack of fortune he had fishing was beginning to wear on his patience. Coming out from behind the trees, he responded to you like all the others had—awe-struck.

His silence was telling, indicating that your charm was working. Eyeing his expression intently, you revealed your tail. Though glancing at it, he appeared unphased. Instead of being repulsed like the others, he surprised you; pointing out that your skirt was hiked up and you may catch a cold. A bit taken aback by his gentlemanly concern, you stepped a bit closer, taking more notice of where he was fishing.

“You may want to try fishing at that end over there.” You pointed at a spot at the opposite end of the lake. Giving you a blank stare, he nodded and thanked you for your advice. Every day he returned to that area, looking for something, fishing, or just enjoying the peaceful nature. You couldn’t help gaining interest in him. He seemed so much unlike the others, and naturally, you wanted to learn more about him.

You began exchanging pleasantries which eventually led to forming a friendship. He had so much knowledge of the world beyond yours, and you offered the same. His knowledge of your world and the creatures in it surprised you, but you felt even more intrigued. Who exactly was he?

Among one of your many meetings, you finally asked him why he didn’t age like the others. Informing you about the duties and existence of personifications, you felt a sense of relief blanket you.

Knowing he wasn’t going anywhere for a very long time brought you comfort. It brought the same to him, as well. Even though you would live for hundreds of years and him possibly outliving you, you were happy to know your dear friend would be around for many years. You got the feeling he was glad too.

Denmark: Mermaid Reader

The summer sun felt nice on your face. You were relaxing in your favorite cove away from the growing hustle and bustle of the towns lining the coast.

Every now and then, a straggler would appear—typically a man either exploring the area or rowing along the calm waters admiring the natural beauty of the cliff side. Sometimes you’d practice your singing on them. Most of the time you did so out of boredom or to get them out of your hair when they became a bit too interested.

On your way to your favored spot one day, you spotted a man walking along the beach. He was wearing a carefree smile as he soaked in that day’s rays, leisurely strolling down the unpaved path. Trying not to get too close in fear of him spotting you, you lurked behind, watching him.

You decided to take cover behind a rock, patiently waiting for him to do something. He appeared unremarkable, boring and a bit ditsy even. “Hey, there!” You jumped out of your skin at the overly familiar, flirtatious call coming from behind you. These men snatched the attention of the man you were observing, as well.

He came running, shouting at them to leave you alone. Feeling cornered, you thrashed about in the water, calling attention to your scaly form. Unfortunately, this only caused your distasteful suitors’ desire for you to increase—scheming to auction you off, no doubt. Just as one of the men threw a net over you, a large rock was hurled at his face, making full contact and knocking him back.

Focusing on trying to get out of the net, the sounds of the other men’s yelps of pain and eventual retreat were already fading off in the distance when you heard someone splashing in the shallow waters towards you. Panicking, you warned them to stay back.

“Let me help you!” His caring tone soothed you enough to stop thrashing. He untangled the net from around you, immediately in awe at what he was seeing—a mermaid. His face lit up with a type of childlike wonder, wanting so badly to talk to you, to get to know you. Despite being shy, especially around humans, you humored him. After all, he just saved your life.

With nearly daily conversations, you learned all about his experience as a personification: the good and the bad. When he mentioned how hard it was to get close to anyone who wasn’t also a country, you felt a twinge of sympathy. Even though you weren’t immortal, you’d be around for hundreds of years. You offered to stay with him for as long as this world would have you, which earned you the most sincere smile of gratitude you ever received.

Finland: Keiju Reader

As the mist kissed your skin, you wandered happily amongst the flowers blooming in the meadow. You adored taking the time to care for them, smelling their sweet petals.

Such serenity was becoming more and more difficult to come by in the modern world. The reality of it made a tightness in your chest appear, hoping that the inevitable would have been further in the future.

Unfortunately, you felt forced to frequent that meadow less and less, seeing as many humans were venturing out of towns and cities to explore more of nature. Generally speaking, you didn’t mind humans. However, you could feel a part of you die when you saw one of them disrespecting this lovely world.

Being painfully shy, you regrettably slinked away when an opportunity to confront them presented itself. Eventually, you retreated into the deep forest, finding peace next to a pond. You dipped your feet in it, your wings fluttering in response to the sensation of the cool water.

Closing your eyes for a moment to soak in the peaceful moment, you were jolted awake by a small tongue licking your arm. Letting out a startled shriek, the surprising greeting had come from a small dog. “Oh, hello there. Are you all alone?”  Your tone was soft, helping the dog regain its confidence after the sudden yelp you made.

“Don’t bother the nice lady, Hanatamago!” As the man came closer, it was apparent that he noticed you were no ordinary woman. Stood there with his eyes wide, he quickly apologized if his dog was bothering you and reassured you that he was very friendly.

You responded politely, saying you didn’t mind since you didn’t have the chance to see many dogs. Commenting on how much of a sweetheart his pet was, he used that as a segue of continuing the conversation. In spite of your bashfulness, there was something calming about him. You were starting to enjoy your conversation, even hoping it wouldn’t end. Learning more about each other, you shared stories and opened up to each other.

Learning about the other’s identity, taking the time to understand each other: you couldn’t have asked for a better first impression. You were comforted by the fact that he wouldn’t age. Even though you would, you’d be around for many more centuries; he was more than willing to let you know how glad he was that he’d have plenty of time to spend with you.

[inmyownlaine]

John Murphy x Reader: Only Me

Warnings: Weapons, threatening death, cussing, angst

Word Count: 1494

Part: 1 2

Series: Enemies to Lovers Trope

Summary: Murphy’s kind gesture in the bunker has thoroughly interfered with your cold attitude and you couldn’t be more upset. Confronting him only makes it worse, causing his friends to jump in on the insults. However, Murphy reminds them that only he gets to talk to you that way. No one else.

────────────────────────────────────────────

You wanted to tell. Never in your life did you think you would want to divulge such insignificant information. Surviving was not about the pitter-patter of your heart. It was about keeping it intact, protecting it with layers of armor, shooting anyone that threatened it.

The only problem was you didn’t have anyone to tell. Which, of course, confused you. So what if you were a tad vindictive? And callous. Maybe even bitter. But only just a smidge! If people couldn’t look past your absolutely awful qualities and see the sliver of graciousness that oozed through one singular pore then that was their problem.

So instead, you let it burn inside you. The secret festered and boiled, creating a bubbling sensation in your stomach, like a rancid potion in a rusty cauldron. It was enough to spend the majority of your lunchtime stabbing at the food instead of eating it. Imagining that it was Murphy, wishing he had never been kind to you. If he had just left you alone, you wouldn’t feel this way.

Then you could stab him in peace, rather than feeling the twinge of guilt for pretending the fork was going through his pale skin.

A trio of girls walked by. You watched dreamily, a curled fist resting under your chin. Their long locks of hair billowed behind them, cascading in waves down the middle of their back. Even with their dingy clothes and dirty nails, they paraded down the pathway with pouty lips and sultry stares.

But they smell awful you thought, nose wrinkling in disgust. And their hair had to be just as gritty, if not worse, than yours. They weren’t any better than you. They just had the confidence to pretend.

You straightened your back, realizing how deluded you were being. Their portrayal was all fake. They had to put on a show. But you? Your iron fist on every single person, item, and decision was irrefutable. Everyone did what you said, when you said it. Whether it was from fear or anger, you couldn’t care less.

Swiping the hair from your eyes, settling it behind your ear, you regained the part of you before the bunker. All it took was diving into a good, old-fashioned passtime of yours. Comparison and judgment made the world go round. And besides, everyone needed it. How would they ever know their place?

Yes, things were starting to fall back into place.

And then Murphy trudged into the room.

You hunched over, captivated and breathless at the fluency of his steps. His shoulders followed in graceful tandem, swinging in time with his hips. Murphy was poetry in motion. Of course you could tell, being such an avid consumer of Dickinson and Keats.

Not.

You averted your eyes, coming face to face with the endless woods; silence and nature being your only two companions. This was how you preferred it. The trees never questioned you. The cloud never made you feel inferior. A beautiful hush never broke your heart.

This is how you preferred it.

Right?

The sides of your head started to pulse, like the kick from a pistol. It reverberated and rang across your entire forehead, down the ridge of your brows and inside your eye sockets. Nothing was going to solve this except your sleeping bag.

You tossed the leftover food over your shoulder and pushed off the ground. Although, your plans had some competition. With Murphy sitting in your path, chatting to a few of his equally disturbed friends, he was unknowingly fighting the bed for your attention.

This was going to be the easiest thing you’ve ever done. It was as simple as placing one foot in front of the other, acting like you never noticed how incredibly gorgeous he looked with his fresh new wounds, and traveling to the only destination you intended. Everyone knows that sleeping is more important than boys.

You swerved around his group, desperately battling the urge to see if he was watching you. If he even knew you existed.

“Look away,” one of the boys suggested. Fair enough.

“Wasn’t even looking,” another replied. Okay, that was a little much.

You cocked your head in their direction. A snide remark just itching to escape your dehydrated lips, but catching behind your teeth. You couldn’t even form the words to be rude when Murphy was in your line of sight. And he wasn’t even doing anything. Just sitting, minding his own business, and definitely not worrying about you.

But that didn’t matter. Murphy was like…

God, you needed to read poetry.

Ew, what?

“Need something?” Murphy questioned. His eyes were like - they were blue - like - blue…berries! And the way his hair fell past his eyes, parted down the middle, was - attractive. But like, a lot. The shoulder pads on his jacket were spiky. There. That was all the description anyone needed of him.

And really the only thing you could provide.

“Not from you,” you snapped. But then you thought about it. “Actually, yeah. Stop inserting yourself in my life.”

“I’m - not?” he said slowly.

“You’re in my way. Always.”

“Since when has that been a problem for you?” Murphy jeered. “I thought you liked a little challenge. Speaking of which, I think you’re overdue.”

“For what?”

His blueberry…His eyes shimmered with mischief. It reminded you of the glint that reflected off his favorite blade. One that your throat had grown so accustomed to. A sinister thought sprouted in the recess of your brain as you found yourself wishing he would, just to be pressed against you. To touch you, breathe down your neck, make every hair on your body stand at attention.

Would he notice that you would inhale deeply? Not out of anguish, but just to take in his full scent. That his warmth would be the cause of your rapid heart instead of the adrenaline of near death? You might even expose yourself further, rolling your head to the side, trying to lay it next to his cheek…

“Looks like you already know,” he said to you.

“Try me.”

Murphy began to rise, but the boy to his left stuck out his arm. This caused a red alarm to set off in your mind, blaring and flashing with urgency to take action. Without hesitation your gun was aimed, looking down the sight. Murphy didn’t seem too impressed, shoving the hand away.

“I’ll take care of it,” his friend offered.

“Not a chance,” Murphy told him.

“Come on, man. We could end this right now. All of us. We could kill her and no one would bat an eye. No one would care. We might even get a reward.” He chuckled as he said the last part, smug and reckless. He didn’t deserve poetry. He was every bit of phone directory. Useless beyond imagination, full of information that exactly zero people cared about. Just as worn down as the revolting yellow pages, yearning for a time when someone would find convenience in his miserable existence instead of immediately tossing him to the side with all the other nugatory things.

“Quit,” Murphy demanded.

His friend didn’t understand. He scoffed at Murphy, copping an attitude while his tongue grazed over his teeth. “I don’t get you.”

“There’s nothing to get. Just shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything you wouldn’t say!”

“That’s the point, jackass,” Murphy growled. His voice rasped, like the crunching of large gravel. Every single microscopic entity that occupied your body zinged off your bones, your veins, your skin. You felt a flush starting at your toes, crawling up to your face. In the pursuit of playful threats, Murphy made you feel visible. Which, turns out, was not the best look on you.

“You don’t get to say those things to her. Only me. Got it?”

Got it. Got it, bad. Murphy wanted to say something else to you, but there was no time. If you couldn’t outrun your feelings, the least you could do was outrun him. Try to place as much distance between the two of you before you started replacing all the knife scenarios with his hand.

God. Murphy could slam you against the wall with no trouble. Those slender fingers would grasp your neck, digging in his nails so hard they left crescent moons. Splotches of purple and blue would appear around them, painting a stunning portrait of the nighttime sky in the shape of his hand.

He would be proud of it, too. After all, it’s not too often that an artist creates a masterpiece. Let alone one that he could perfectly replicate repeatedly, and for the canvas to never tire of the same patterns and colors.

It was too late. There was nothing left for you to do. And there was only one person that could fix this now. You burst into Clarke’s tent, startling her enough to make her draw her gun. “I need to know poetry. And you’re going to teach me.”

────────────────────────────────────────────

In my feelings, per usual. Massive shout to ryaniq.aep for creating edits that make my heart soar. Season one Murphy is too much to handle.

Look forward to the third part of this little trope series soon! I hope it’s okay that the reader is more on the chaotic side, I’ve actually really enjoyed writing for someone a little devilish. Their internal thoughts kind of crack me up.

Xx Lainey

[anothertimdrakestan]

oooo boy. first, love your writing boo you’re seriously an inspiration <3. secondly, a fic idea: a friend of tim’s flies in to see him bc she moved to maine forever ago, they were like childhood besties. but when they meet again, there’s a mf-ing sPARkk

Memories - Tim Drake x Reader

~

"I'm so sorry to have to stop taking questions, but we've kept Ms. L/N for 15 extra minutes and I'm sure she has plans after! Everyone please give her another round of applause for coming all the way to Gotham University to present her outstanding research!" the lecture hall erupted with applause as you smiled and waved at the sea of faces in front of you. Presenting your research across the nation was a dream, and although you barely remember it, Gotham was your hometown, and you were excited to see what parts of your rose-coloured memories remained.

"Thank you so much for having me GU! Please, email me with any more questions I'll be happy to reply." you called to the masses that were filing out as you shook your peer's hand one last time, both exchanging pleasantries as the room quieted.

"Sorry again for keeping you over, Ms. L/N, I'm sure you're very busy! But, if you could just take a look at one of my papers up for publication, I would be so, so thankful!" he began, flipping up his laptop as you realized this opportunity to speak was really just an exchange of favours.

A terrifyingly familiar voice echoed across the hall, "actually, she is busy, we have plans." you almost had to squint to see a man's frame leaning up against the doorway, backlit enough that you couldn't make out the details of his face.

"Oh! So sorry. I- uh I can email it to you! We can hop on a zoom call later in the week?" your peer seemed to recognize the figure immediately, packing his things as quickly as the students who were just there for attendance. He scurried away just as quickly too.

"It's been years, but you didn't think I'd find you?" the voice drifted across the room as you turned to face the figure, starting your walk up to him.

"I'm so sorry, the lighting, it's awful! I don't quite recognize you and I certainly don't have plans with anyone I'm afraid!" you replied, practically flying up the stairs just to meet this man face to face. He was dressed exquisitely: suit clearly tailored, hair slicked back with the perfect suave tousle, it was exhilarating.

"You don't recognize your only Gotham friend?"

"I don't have any Gotham friends, I was only here for my first few years of elementary school- oh my god Tim?" you rambled until you made it close enough to see the stranger's face and froze. The eyes, the familiar gleam of mischief and intelligence you had befriended what felt like a million years ago were staring back at you.

"Hey Y/n. Long time no see." he held out a strong hand, helping you up the last few steps, bringing both of you into the light. He continued, "you look, incredible." to which you just gawked in return.

"You look, like Tim" you whispered, tying the strings of comparison between the child you had first hacked a firewall with and the grown man, really billionaire, that stood before you.

He ran an awkward hand through his hair at your response, "thanks, I think." to which you scrambled back, "no! I mean, you look good, really really good, I just can't believe it's you. I mean, I thought about reaching out, you're on my Gotham list [you held up a list of scribbles of old memories] but I just figured you'd be so busy that I didn't bother."

"Didn't bother a partner in underage crime? Callous. Let's see the list though!" he snorted, snatching the scribbles from your hands, holding it up as he read aloud your scrambled childhood memories:

"Visit the nature museum- closed after a Poison Ivy attack, find Mr. Smith from 2nd grade- god you've gotta use google he's long dead he was like 70 when we were 6! Hmmm, visit the Big Belly Burger on 11th- now that's a good one!" he scanned the list quickly while you clawed for it back hoping he wouldn't get to-

"find the old rope swing behind Wayne Manor. You remember that?" the words left his lips just as you tore the paper out of his hand, tucking it back into your pocket.

"Of course I remember it, but it's whatever. It's probably also dead and gone or ruined by a villain. Why are you even here?" you tried to turn the spotlight onto Tim, but he was already halfway out the room, calling "C'mon! At the least I can buy you a 3$ burger and shitty milkshake." to which you haplessly obliged.

"Do you remember getting caught when we rigged the 5th grade presidential election? Why did you even want that kid to win anyway?" You laughed, almost uncontrollably, reminiscing on the old shenanigans.

Tim replied, "oh I didn't care who won or lost, I just wanted to see if we could do it!" to which you threw a french fry at him, which he swiftly caught. "Oh my god we almost got expelled Tim!"

"Doesn't match the time you made us start a homework-completing company in your backyard!" his shoulders shook with laugher.

"We were broke!" you chided, waving your arms exasperated, like you were a kid begging him to join your master plan once again.

"We were six years old!" he chuckled.

"We were, weren't we." you mused, popping the last fry in your mouth, leaning back with a sigh. Some things didn't change. Big Belly Burger was still addictive, Gotham was still filled with pollution, and Tim was still the very best thing about the entire city.

"I can check off one last thing on your bucket list." Tim said decidedly, sitting up in his chair.

"Yea? You gonna bring me to Mr. Smith's grave?" you groaned. But Tim stood up, he had lost the suit jacket and tie somewhere along the 2 hours you'd both spent in the fast food joint, he looked young again. You felt young again.

He had driven you somewhere you only dreamed of pulling into, Gotham Manor. You always wondered how the poor boy from a public elementary school had managed to get adopted by Bruce Wayne, but you never knew how to reach out and ask.

"Tell me you don't still have the rope swing" you shook your head with a grin. Tim just shrugged, hopping out of the sleek black car and running over to open your door for you.

"What do you take me for? A sap?" he crooned.

"Absolutely." you replied, bumping his side with your shoulder as he took the opportunity to lazily sweep an arm around you, guiding you to massive backyard gardens in the Manor.

You mused, "if we wanted to be true to character, we should've snuck in like old times" and Tim snorted, "let's just say I've upped the security pretty significantly, and that wouldn't go so well for us."

You rounded the edge of the perfectly trimmed garden to the scattered trees on the Manor's edge, and sitting there looking the same as ever was a massive tree, a thick rope hanging down tied tightly around a massive tire, the kind a monster truck or a weightlifter threw around, you and Tim had always wondered why it was there, or how the poor tree managed to hold it up, but you never worried about it, both swinging happily late at night after both sneaking out.

You placed a hand on the tree, a few rogue tears slipping down your cheeks as you leaned into Tim's embrace. "I really loved it here you know." you whispered.

"I did too. When you left it wasn't really the same." his voice was soft, you could feel his chest rumbling with every word.

"Really? I guess I always figured you'd find some other genius and take over the world with them"

"You thought I could replace you?"

"No- I mean maybe? I don't know, we were kids I just figured-"

"I didn't forget. You were my first kiss, right here." he leaned forward to put a hand on the old tree.

"Mine too." you replied, smiling as you remembered the nervous peck that occurred the night before you left.

"I was so nervous." he chuckled, staring at the tree, his gaze never meeting yours.

"I didn't think you had the balls." you teased, and his eyes snapped to yours.

"Okay, I was a pretty shy kid, but I've grown a lot."

"Yeah?" you grinned, biting your bottom lip to keep from breaking into a beaming smile.

Tim gently pushed you back against the tree, his hand guiding your chin up, letting your eyes meet his, "yeah" was all he muttered before pressing another gentle, warm kiss to your lips, and the same butterflies you got, all those years ago, took flight once again.

~

I hope you enjoyed, thank you so much for the request! <3

[leohttbriar]

the snow-melted and it's sunny and it's spring and that makes me feel some type of way so here's a kiradax springtime fic featuring the fascinations of a nature-walk and jadzia dax as a sort of ms. frizzle:

On a bright day like this, Kira was happy to be handing out juice boxes.

Sure, she would’ve preferred to have been part of Keiko’s field-trip party, with the older students on a rock-climbing mission to observe cliff-side fungus. But Keiko had been a little too bright-faced and excited as she tucked her climbing shoes into her backpack and gathered all the older kids together for a lesson in knot-tying and rappelling, and, almost immediately, Miles had begged Kira to swap chaperone positions so he could trail after his wife pretending to be worried about the cliffs on which she was leading an educational expedition but really interested in just documenting ‘the moment,’ as he called it.

“When Molly starts to be embarrassed of us,” he said, turning on his camera and smirking as Keiko demonstrated a very long finger-hold on a nearby boulder, the strained muscles in her forearms and shoulders not even appearing to shake. “I want evidence that we’re actually cool.”

“Well, one of you is,” said Kira. “You mostly play games with Julian in your free-time.”

Miles shot her a dirty look but then Keiko was calling her group to start on the hike and he was scampering after her.

So Kira was left with the younger kids on a much less dangerous nature walk that didn’t involve rock-climbing. But she was happy about it. The day was bright, crisp air with warm sun, and she didn’t have to do much more than make sure the little ones stayed on the path and hand out juice boxes. And, really, they were all too mesmerized by Jadzia to misbehave or wonder off.

Kira couldn’t exactly blame them, though. Jadzia had turned up in a shirt covered in colorful scientific illustrations of various Bajoran insects, a giant hair clip that looked like one of the stone-caterpillars that Kira used to make into a stew in her hungriest moments during the war, and a box of tiny, kid-sized binoculars which she handed to each student with all the sincerity and solemnity of a general handing out medals of honor to soldiers. She oo’d an ah’d over every little thing and all the kids were following after her like she was personally responsible for putting a flower in their path to look at.

“Oh, look at that!” gasped Jadzia, pointing up at what looked to be a normal tree limb with such drama that every single kid was gasping with her despite, Kira assumed, not knowing what it is they were gasping at. They gathered around Jadzia, following to where her finger pointed, their little mouths open in awe.

“What?” asked one of the more impatient kids. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s an aerial succulent,” said Jadzia, bending down. “See, between the stalks, there's a film which will expand and catch on a breeze if the plant needs to move.”

“Like wings?” asked another kid, taking rigorous notes in her notebook (Kira was able to read she had just added plant flying color green pretty in uneven block letters).

“Yes! Exactly like wings!” said Jadzia, as if this comparison had just occurred to her.

“Wow.”

Jadzia had them all draw a picture of the succulent, a star shaped thing with a sparkly veil between each point, tipping this way and that on the tree branch but yet holding steady. Kira attempted a drawing herself, as Jadzia had made sure to provide her with a “field notebook” and binoculars, along with the kids. It was not a good drawing, but Kira liked it. After, they continued shuffling along the path and Kira helped a couple kids not to trip on their feet as they traversed forward, binoculars glued to their eyes.

When Keiko had suggested a field trip, Kira had not expected to be asked to help. But it seemed Sisko was of the opinion that she needed “a break,” or something like that. And so he had volunteered much of his chief staff to help out with the trip to Bajor and even extending the offer of the supervised field trip to some of the schools that would be nearby their educational expedition. As the morning progressed, Kira couldn’t help but be thankful for it. There were worse ways to spend a day. And Jadzia had been very happy when Kira had turned up, which always made Kira feel warm in more ways than one. She might've switched assignments, anyway, if Miles hadn't asked.

Eventually they ended up by a stream and Jadzia instructed everyone to be on the lookout for fossils.

“I know there are fossils,” she whispered triumphantly to Kira, once the kids were darting back and forth on the bank like the intrepid explorers they were. “I scouted the trail—this watershed area is almost nothing but limestone.”

Kira bent down to examine the earth herself, picking up an angular yet smooth-cornered rock and rolling it around in her palm.

“Limestone has more fossils in it?” she asked.

Jadzia plopped down next to her. “Yep,” she said. She reached over and gently guided Kira’s fingers to hold the rock so the angle was pointed up. Then she poured a splash of water on it, smoothed away some dirt, and pointed to an imprint in the stone. “See?” she said. “A shell.”

“Oh,” said Kira, looking closer at the strangely patterned whirl. It looked like the aerial succulent.

“Limestone is a graveyard, for organic life,” said Jadzia, halfway to soft but still cheerful. “It’s got a bit of a sacred history on Trill, but I never bought into all those sad poems. Trills only seem to know how to write sad poems”—she rolled her eyes, and Kira bit the inside of her cheek to contain her grin—“and I just don’t think fossils are things to be sad about anyway. True, this”—she indicated the rock in Kira’s hand by cupping Kira’s knuckles and pushing gently against them, causing Kira to, embarrassingly, blush—“is made of the compressed bodies of ancient marine life, but it’s not as if they’re gone. There they are.”

Kira turned her gaze away from Jadzia’s open face and back to the dirty rock in her palm. She didn’t like to think of it as a graveyard. Death was a strange, conceptual thing for Bajorans—as all things are and have been and will be all at once, so eternal ending is just one edge of infinite reality, which has many edges stretching on and on.

“It’s just evidence that they were,” she found herself saying. “But they also are. Just—are.”

Jadzia tipped her head, her eyebrows pinched together. “This might be one of those temporal perspectives I don’t get,” she said.

Kira smiled. “I mean,” she said. “In some way, this…shell?”

“Crinoid.”

“This crinoid,” said Kira, still biting back a grin. “Is swimming around now. In the sea.”

Jadzia looked at her, eyes sparkling. “Okay,” she said. “Then limestone isn’t a graveyard at all.” She picked the rock up out of Kira’s hand and placed back on the ground but replaced its weight with her own palm. “Everything just adds and adds, in every direction.”

Kira’s smile couldn’t be stopped. She curled her fingers around Jadzia’s wrist. “Yes,” she said, leaning in close, tracing the line of sun lighting up the dark hollows on Jadzia’s face and the soft hairs on her jaw.

Jadzia tilted her chin down, their noses now millimeters apart. The sound of the stream and the sound of her breath on Kira’s mouth washed over her. “Nerys—” she said, voice sweet.

Then, “Da-ax!”

They leaned away from each other quickly.

“Yeah?” called back Jadzia, wiping her twitchy hands on her shorts.

“I fell in!” said one of the kids while all the others laughed.

Kira snorted. Jadzia pressed her palm against Kira’s once more before launching to her feet.

“Duty calls,” she said, dramatically. “Remember me fondly.”

She walked off, already lecturing all the kids about the joys of an impromptu swim and the subsequent chance to dry off in the sun, and soon Kira was being bombarded by tired students in search of snacks.

She slipped the rock in her backpack, when no one was looking. An eternal touch of a swimming creature and the warmth of Jadzia's hand--everything just added on. It was a bright day.

[sl-walker]

Preview...

...from the next chapter of Stardust, which will go out at some point after I finish it. Until then, please enjoy this opener to an already wildly self-indulgent chapter.

--

“I maintain that this would be easier in a pool,” Ted said, though given his tone, he was kvetching to kvetch -- his term -- and was perfectly content with where they were.

Booster had never been in any body of water larger than a hot tub or a cold water post-game bath before, so obviously he’d wanted to jump into Lake Michigan.  It was upwards of 90 out and it wasn’t the dry heat of El Paso; this heat clung to the body, making clothes stick in wildly uncomfortable ways and in insanely uncomfortable places, and so naturally he wanted to wear as little as possible and the best place to get away with wearing very little was the beach.  The incredible amount of blue and water was just a bonus.

And that wasn’t even taking into account a Ted wearing nothing but swim goggles and trunks.  Which meant this could well be either Booster’s very personal heaven or his very personal hell.  Unless there was a weird personal purgatory where you were being tortured with the appealing sight of the unaware object of your affections?

Hell if he knew.  There was a reason he body-swerved religion like it was a wharf rat hissing from the storm drain.

He'd thought about going out to some of the Long Island beaches before, maybe as an afternoon trip, but the ocean intimidated him every bit as much as he was fascinated by it.  By his time, the oceans were very barren; mostly, they existed as giant vats to grow specialized algae, which in turn became the building blocks of most food sources.  Storms could rage, but the vast bumpers and floats and dividers kept the surface anywhere near shore fairly smooth; to let it get wild would be to risk starving some large portion of the roughly two billion people inhabiting Earth at any given time.

In this time, waves roared ashore and smashed against rocks and the first time he’d stood on an unsheltered walk next to an unfettered ocean had left him so awed that he didn’t even remember the walk back to the motel.  His face was windburned and he was cold enough that he took the warmest shower he could coax out of the motel’s hot-water heaters, and then sat shivering wrapped in the cheap blankets after.

But even as he did, he was still reliving the reverberation of water pounding the shore, a low and bone-shaking boom that felt like it changed the very rhythm of his heart right through the soles of his shoes.  He was still tasting salt, flecks of seawater spray flung by the wind, long after it had to have been impossible to.

Lake Michigan was cheerful by comparison to that; the waves were nonexistent today, and given the rental Ted had chosen, the largely private beach was likewise quiet.  Down the way, one of the various public beaches that lined the North Shore was busier -- Jaime, Brenda and Paco had abandoned them to go investigate the more social scene, in fact -- but there had been no talk of Booster and Ted going with.

If one was going to half-ass some swimming lessons, then it couldn’t be a better day for it, or a better location.  And, ulterior motives about getting to see the man in trunks aside, Booster wouldn’t have wanted them from anyone but Ted anyway.

Booster shrugged, drawing his hands through the water in a wide arc around himself, feeling the resistance against his palms. “Easier, sure, but way less pretty,” he said, as he pretended with award-winning composure that he was referring to the lake and not his oblivious instructor.  Though the lake was also pretty.

“Yeah, but with a pool you can practice kicking by holding onto the side.  For an example.”  Ted looked around; he had so much sunscreen on his face and shoulders that there was a glaze of it left on his skin.  Not enough to hide the birthmark on the back of one shoulder.  He smelled like artificial coconut, which was definitely not Booster’s favorite scent, and Booster still would have happily buried his face in Ted’s neck for a snootful.  “I mean, out here all you have to hold onto is me,” Ted added.

Booster stared at him for a second or two, then swallowed down a groan and just let himself slide below the surface because it was that or die right there.

He was laying sort-of on the floor of Lake Michigan in a speedo and goggles and the guy he was absolutely head over heels for was mostly naked and this was the single worst idea he’d ever had in his life.

But, he had to allow as he stared up through the water at the distorted image of his best friend looking down at him in what was undoubtedly a bemused fashion, there were definitely worse ways to go.

[subskz]

Tall girl anon back. Omg I’m not sure about the picture, it probably is but in my memory I feel like it was more visible, but then again memories can be wrong. And although being into the “masculinity” of body hair in certain places is one way of interpreting it, I don’t think it’s the masculinity part. I think it’s just the whole sort of naturalness(???) of it. Humans are animals and things like pubic and pit hair are signs of hormones and sexual maturity and the presence of it just seems very sexy in a “raw” sort of way that idk how to describe. Anyway….

So I need to get this thing off my chest somewhere and my friends probs don’t wanna hear it so imma do it here since we’re all horny on here anyway.

These memories keep coming back to me… I went to a concert at one point, not gonna say when or who, all that’s important to know is that it was a kpop boy group. And I had a sex dream immediately after. This legit never happened before. I’ve had sex dreams, but not after concerts. But anyway… I’d never noticed in videos, but onstage (I had great seats) one of the members was visibly smaller than everyone else, by a lot. I looked it up and the next shortest member was three inches taller than him (he’s 5’6”) and something about seeing this skinny, short, very attractive guy (especially in comparison to the rest of his members) snapped something in me. In the videos, you don’t really notice it but in real life…. Wow…Like, I need to have him. He is so small and for whatever reason that makes me want him even more. And I feel so weird for that very specific feeling but the memories keep coming back and I can’t get rid of it. I need to hug him, I need to pin him down, I bet I could pick up his tiny little body— he’s so skinny that I refuse to believe that he weighs more than me. And this feral urge consumes me. I want to hold his face in my hands and tell him he’s so pretty but I also want to see his face twisted in pleasure and gasping with his eyes rolling back. I want to hold his little hands in my larger ones in the most wholesome way possible and I also want to see how far my long fingers could wrap around his neck. I want to kiss him and love him and hold him and ruin him. Or even just have the most vanilla sex possible just as long as I could hear him moan with his pretty, high-pitched voice. I’m not gonna try getting myself off because tbh I don’t think that’ll be enough to fix this and as much as this feeling is frustrating, I’m not entirely sure I want it to go away. Anyways……

Sorry for the big rant. But if I don’t let this out it may consume me more than it already has.

hihi it’s good to see u again! if there really is a highqual pic of lix’s happy trail out there i hope we find it someday 🔎 i completely agree w you abt finding body hair “sexy in a raw way” that describes it perfectly! there’s nothing more attractive than humans in their most natural state, no makeup, unshaved, their natural scent etc ♡_♡ slight tangent here but when lino’s skin isnt covered w that awful pale smoothing filter and u can see his real complexion with all his little bumps n acne scars…..literally makes me drool

the way this concert awakened smth in you that u already thought had been awakened LOL it seems like it was quite the lifechanging experience 😽 he sounds so adorable 5’6” men are kinda the perfect size…plus him having an itty bitty frame on top of that so you could probably pick him up like he’s weightless and manhandle him if you wanted to…that’s the goal isn’t it <3 being able to eclipse a boy’s hands w your own and scoop him up in ur arms and hold him up against the wall, making him feel small, safe and helpless all at the same time

i hope ur brain stops tormenting you w these thoughts soon but i cant even blame u for being so hooked on it he sounds like a dream for ppl w size kinks ❤️‍🔥

[proosh]

Hey sending strength for ur hell week!! okay so. Thoughts on pru putting Fran in a collar :3c poncy old man lapdog

WOW THIS IS LATE but I like how this turned out, so >:3c thank you for the request!!

Pairing: FraPru/PruFra Prompt: Collaring Rating: Teen? 16+??? (technically kink but nothing explicit) Length: ~1.2k words Content Warnings: Collaring, implicit d/s dynamics, petspace, very fluffy despite this

Francis had been off for most of the day.

He’d been rather quieter than usual and Gilbert had noticed him even being half hearted in his usual flirtation. Usually he would be expecting Francis to end up sprawled across Gilbert’s desk bemoaning the terrible, awful torture of not knowing how the office printer worked and pleading with big, wet eyes for some simple mercy but… He’d been positively compliant in comparison to the regular shenanigans and Gilbert felt the gnawing edge of worry the entire workday.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel when driving home – he wouldn’t trust Francis behind the wheel on the best of days – and kept a peripheral eye on the way his partner sulked in the passenger seat. An idea was forming in his head.

“Hey, babe.”

Francis glanced at him, confused. He’d been staring out the window mournfully.

Gilbert continued.

“When we get home, listen and follow me. Yeah?” 

That seemed to catch Francis’ attention. He nodded a silent assent. Gilbert noted with quiet satisfaction that he was sitting up straighter in his seat. Good.

They pulled into the driveway and Francis was not doing a good job pretending to be nonchalant as he exited the car and was immediately on Gilbert’s tail with a curious sort of nervous energy. 

“Down, boy,” Gilbert chided lightly as he unlocked the front door, and Francis was… Immediately compliant, backing away a step and looking at the ground. His shoulders were drawn up as if he were expecting a blow.

Gilbert paused for half a second. Francis was plainly miserable, and had been all day. Perhaps it was just a bad mood, but it was so out of character for him that it was sticking in Gilbert’s mind like a burr to clothes. This obedience and submissiveness wasn’t really something that came naturally to Francis and it betrayed a vulnerability and aimlessness that sat unwell with him, but.

He didn’t need to go down the rabbit hole of analysis right now. He shunted the thoughts away for later and gestured to get Francis inside – which was met with a meek merci and a ducking scramble to get into the house. Gilbert sighed and shut the door after himself.

Francis was watching him expectantly, chin tucked down and looking up at him from beneath his lashes.

It was so performatively submissive that it made Gilbert smile and reach out to cup his cheek and the way Francis’ eyes fluttered wasn’t missed.

“Meet me in the living room,” he decided after a moment. “On your knees, in front of the couch. Go, now. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Francis pouted but nodded and padded away, giving Gilbert time to go get what he needed.

Up to the bedroom, he already knew what he was looking for: His array of collars, for both fashion and play purposes. Leather, silk, heavy-duty or light, he had a decent range for the occasions that called for them. 

Gilbert hesitated over his collection before he made his decision. This wasn’t play so much as it was… Therapeutic. It needed to be right.

He headed back down to the living room where Francis was waiting: His obedience was not something Gilbert had necessarily expected and it almost unsettled him a touch. He wasn’t met by grousing or impatient wiggling, but rather his partner compliantly kneeling exactly where he was told, head bowed and hair falling in a shroud past his face. 

Gilbert could feel his eyes on him.

He approached, having tucked the collar into the back of his pants, to round him and perch on the couch cushions, framing Francis with his legs.

“Head up, please,” he lightly instructed, and Francis obliged with only a second of hesitation. 

His mouth was drawn tight in neutral misery and he was avoiding Gilbert’s eyes even as he presented himself, a tension writ across his face that made Gilbert’s belly do a flip of concern.

He brushed his fingers through Francis’ hair and cupped his face, both motions he’d learned were things he liked.

“...Are you okay?” Gilbert asked, simply. Francis blinked up at him before he averted his eyes again and shrugged a shoulder. “It is merely a… Euh. Mood. I suppose.”

Gilbert hummed flatly and reached behind himself.

“Alright. That’s alright. Chin up for me? Like a good boy, now.”

His angle worked: Francis visibly shivered at the praise and raised his chin at the same time he closed his eyes. It let Gilbert bring out the collar – it was a supple leather, a blue so dark it was nearly black and simple besides the silver buckles – and snake it around the pale, unsightly scarring of Francis’ throat, carefully brushing his hair out of the way so it wouldn’t get caught. 

He was careful as he buckled the leather, nice and close against Francis’s skin. Loose enough so that he could wiggle a finger in between them, but no further. Good.

Gilbert sat back but kept a crooked finger beneath his chin: Francis was still baring his throat to him with his eyes closed, but he could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed and felt the pressure around his neck.

Gilbert got to watch the tension slowly seep out of Francis’ shoulders and the tight crinkles at the corners of his eyes loosen at the same time he sighed deeply and leaned into the hand at his chin.

The pressure of the collar was something reassuring, Gilbert knew from experience. To be held and owned and not have to worry was freedom from all else.

Francis’ eyes fluttered open and he was looking up at Gilbert expectantly, mouth half-opened in a question that he didn’t need to vocalise. Gilbert brushed Francis’ hair back and trailed his fingers down to the back of his skull, lightly scraping his nails across his scalp and then massaging the pads of his fingers against the base of the hairline, just above where the collar sat.

“Good boy. Feeling better now?”

Francis nodded simply, and tried to shuffle a bit closer on his knees. There was a dimly hungry look in his eyes that made Gilbert smile.

He sat back on the couch and patted the cushion next to him, which Francis was more than happy to clamber up onto, and then immediately pivot to press himself into Gilbert’s side with a soft, canine whine. It wasn’t like Francis to prefer not to speak, but Gilbert guessed it just wasn’t where his brain was at, which was fine. He was perfectly expressive in other ways.

Gilbert shuffled over to lean against the arm of the couch and Francis was quick to duck under Gilbert’s arm to fit against his flank and press his face into the space at Gilbert’s ribs – at perfect height to have his hair petted while Gilbert grabbed the remote to switch the TV on.

They’d both had a long day and it was only fair that they both got to unwind. It wasn’t common that Francis needed the collar to escape whatever was going on inside his head, but it was only fair to offer him that freedom and reassurance. Gilbert would pry later about what was bothering and upsetting him, but that would come after Francis was able to settle into a more comfortable brainspace.

Right now, all he needed to worry about was the warmth of the body he was cuddling against and the gentle, steady scritches he was receiving and that was okay, because that’s what good dogs did.