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#maroon pearl
gaycookiesnstuff · 2 months
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While I go cope w my identity crisis, here's maroon pearl cookie
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Cuz oycap fankid, why not
They're like 20, I just didn't draw it right cuz I just went along w what worked
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stimmerdingus · 3 months
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scavenger stimboard for myself!! just wanted to do something self indulgent for some comfort
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halfyearsqueen · 4 months
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nyra vibes ….
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trickstercaptain · 2 years
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          i see ace’s post on the dash again and i feel the need to point it out on my blog too: not counting dmtnt (because nope), Jack has only ever been drunk twice in the entire trilogy. he’s seen drinking, yes, but no more heavily than any other character around him aside from a) when Elizabeth gets him drunk on the island in CotBP, and b) at the start of DMC when Jack is implied to have drunk the entire bottle of rum on his desk before stumbling down to find more and encountering Bootstrap
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stimlux · 2 months
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Maw stimboard 4 @ghostthostt ^_^ yaay
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celestibabs · 1 month
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Feyd Rautha relishes your ability to withstand his rabid sex sessions after a hunt in the Harkonnen arena. Each evening is the same, spurred on by the echoing cheers of the crowd. He bursts into your quarters, crimson blood spatter speckling his porcelain skin and eyes crazed from the adrenaline.
Grasping the base of your neck with hands that had committed atrocities, Feyd forces you into his desired position. Face pressed harshly into the mattress of the absurdly large mattress, you feel the nick of a blade tip cutting into the soft skin of your ribs when it rips through the expensive fabric you wore. You imagine Feyd viewed your clothes as an adversary, carving through them with his dual hunting knives like he did the many Atreides he fought in the arena. 
He holds your chin in a vice grip, his fingerprints bruising into your jawline as he pulls you back, leaning in to force a ravenous kiss onto your mouth. The coppery taste of fallen Harkonnen prisoners coats your tongue, and you find yourself moaning at the familiar taste. To the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha, blood meant sex– meant burying himself in your weeping cunt to burn off the residual epinephrine rush from the slaughter. You’d come to associate the flavour of iron with the stretch of his cock. 
The soft silk of the cool bed sheets beneath you do little to soothe the hot sting of Feyd’s nails sinking into the soft, naked flesh of your hips. Crescent moons that pearl with maroon. If you’re lucky– if you’re good, Feyd drags his tongue over the weeping wounds. 
When the Na-Baron sinks his throbbing cock into you, there’s no warning. He likes the shock it causes, the gasp that rips through your chest when he lips your hips and rams inside of you harshly. It’s so much, too much at once; the stretch in your fluttering cunt, the rippling of Feyd’s abs against your back when he pistons his hips into you. He’s feral, each thrust driving you further up the mattress. 
You’re almost certain the pretty little whimpers that he punches out of you with each push of his thick length gets the Na-Baron off quicker. You’re like prey beneath him, at his mercy. Those black eyes spark with arousal when you submit to him entirely, baring your throat and whining his name as your arousal teases at the edge of your consciousness. 
He responds in kind, cumming deep inside your cervix and baring his teeth. A predator reminding you that he would force you to submit– or devour you.
dune masterlist
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thecharmjewelry · 2 years
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vibingandsimping · 7 months
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Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.
Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!
Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.
Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash
Astarion,
If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.
He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.
He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.
As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.
He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.
A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.
Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)
A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.
We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.
As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.
He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.
He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.
Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)
Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.
He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.
Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”
When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.
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girlbossblackbeard · 8 months
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THOUGHTS AND LAYERS
i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:
-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:
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he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach
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then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)
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and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself
-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)
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-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard
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and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:
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-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -
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makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him
-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)
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soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day
-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):
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a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??
-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint
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-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?
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-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????
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-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ
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-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)
-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen
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-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)
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which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)
-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer
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makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)
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-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping
-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??
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-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)
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does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:
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but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??
-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season
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-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):
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and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you
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writers-potion · 6 days
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The Pirate's Glossary
Ahoy - an interjection used to hail a ship or a person, or to attract attention.
Arr! - an exclamation
Avast! - a command meaning stop or desist
Aye (or ay) - yes; an affirmation
Becalmed - the state of a sailing vessel which cannot move due to a lack of wind
Belay - (1) to secure or make dast by winding on a cleat or pin (2) to stop, most often used as a command
Bilged on her anchor - a ship holed or pierced by its own anchor
Bilmey! - an exclamation of surprise, short for "God blind me!"
Blow the man down - to kill someone
Boom about - when a ship turns in the wind the boom can swing violently enough to injure or kill a person on board. "Boom about" may be shouted to warn others the boom is about to move.
Bring a spring upon her cable - to come around in a different direction, oftentimes as a surprise maneuver.
Careen - to take a ship into shallower waters or out of the water altogether and remove barnacles and pests such as mollusks, shells and plant growth from the bottom.
Chase - a ship being pursued, or the act of pursuing a ship.
Code of conduct - a set of rules which govern pirates behavior on a vessel.
Come about - to bring the ship full way around in the wind. Used in general while sailing into the wind, but also used to indicate a swing back into the enemy in combat.
Crack Jenny's teacup - to spend the night in a house of ill repute.
Crimp - to procure (sailors or soldiers) by trickery or coercion, or one who crimps.
Dance the Hempen jig - to hang
Davy Jones' locker - a fictional place at the bottom of the ocean. In short, a term meaning death.
Dead men tell no tales - standard pirate excuse for leaving no survivors.
Deadlights - (1) strong shutters or plates fastened over a ship's porthole or cabin window in stormy weather. (2) Thick windows set in a ship's side or deck. (3) eyes.
Fire in the hole - a warning issued before a cannon is fired.
Furl - to roll up and secure, especially a ship’s sail.
Give no quarter - the refusal to spare lives of an opponent. Pirates raise a red flag to threaten no quarter will be given.
Handsomely - quickly or carefully; in a shipshape style.
Haul wind - to direct a ship into the wind.
Heave down - to turn a vessel on its side for cleaning.
Heave - an interjection meaning to come to a halt.
Ho - used to express surprise or joy, to attract attention to something sighted, or to urge onward.
Letter of marque - a document given to a sailor (privateer) giving him amnesty from piracy laws as long as the ships plunders are of an enemy nation.
List - to lean to one side
Long clothes - a style of clothing best suited to land. A pirate, or any sailor, doesn't have the luxury of wearing anything loose that might get in the way while climbing up riggings.
Marooned - to be stranded, particularly on a desert isle.
Me - My
No prey, no pay - a common pirate law meaning a crew received no wages, but rather shared whatever loot was taken.
Overhaul - (1) to slacken a line (2) to gain upon in a chase; to overtake
Parely - a conference or discussion between opposing sides during a dispute, especially when attempting a truce, originating from the French, "parler," meaning "to speak." The term was used in "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl" as part of Pirate law.
Piracy - robbery committed at sea.
Quarter - derived from the idea of "shelter", quarter is given when mercy is offered by pirates. Quarter is often the prize given to an honorable loser in a pirate fight.
Reef sails - to shorten the sails by partially tying them up, either to slow the ship or to keep a strong wind from putting too much strain on the masts.
Run a shot across the bow - a command to fire a warning shot.
Sail ho! - an exclamation meaning another ship is in view. The sail, of course, is the first part of a ship visible over the horizon.
Scupper that! - an expression of anger or derision meaning "Throw that overboard!"
Sea legs - The ability to adjust one's balance to the motion of a ship, especially in rough seas. After walking on a ship for long periods of time, sailors became accustomed to the rocking of the ship in the water. Early in a voyage a sailor was said to be lacking his "sea legs" when the ship motion was still foreign to him. After a cruise, a sailor would often have trouble regaining his "land legs" and would swagger on land.
Shiver me timbers! - An expression of surprise or strong emotion. In stormy weather and rough seas, the support timbers of a ship would "shiver" which might startle the crew. The phrase may have been less common during the Golden Age of Piracy than it had become later in fictional works.
Show a leg! - A phrase used to wake up a sleeping pirate.
Sink me! - An expression of surprise. Many pirate exclamations used exaggerated imagery to highten a point. Ye might say the sailors were punchy or a bit melodramatic after a lengthy stay at sea.  
Smartly - quickly
Take a caulk - To take a nap. On the deck of a ship, between planks, was a thick caulk of black tar and rope to keep water from between decks. This term came about either because sailors who slept on deck ended up with black lines across their backs or simply because sailors laying down on deck were as horizontal as the caulk of the deck itself.
To go on account - A pleasant term used by pirates to describe the act of turning pirate. The basic idea was that a pirate was more "free lance" and thus was, more or less, going into business for himself.
Warp - To move (a vessel) by hauling on a line that is fastened to or around a piling, anchor, or pier.
Weigh anchor - To haul the anchor up; more generally, to leave port.
Ye - you
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
Reference:
https://www.pirateglossary.com/
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saradika-graphics · 5 months
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DIVIDERS MASTERLIST
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AESTHETIC - CELESTIAL
— Stars & Space | Sun
— Stars & Space | Moon
— Stars & Space | Planets
— Stars & Space | Purple
— Stars & Space | Beige/Grey
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AESTHETIC - HEARTS
— Black Hearts
— Hearts
— Heartbeat Dividers
— Green Hearts
— Lilac Hearts
— Pastel Blue Hearts
— Pink to Maroon
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AESTHETIC - OTHER
— 50’s Neon Diner
— 70's Music / Flowers
— Angel / Cherub
— Arrows
— Art Deco (Blue Version)
— Art Nouveau
— Bakery | Part ii
— Beige Daggers
— Black and Grey
— Black & Red Grunge
— Blue & Yellow Dividers
— Blue & Orange Feathers
— Bugs & Garden
— Bunnies (Pastel)
— Cameras/Photography
— Car/Roadtrip
— Cats
— Celtic
— Clouds
— Citrus
— Coffee / Cigarettes
— Cottagecore / Dark Academia
— Cowboy (part ii) (dark) (space) (christmas)
— Cute Pastel
— Dark Space
— Dog/Puppy
— Dragons | Part ii
— Fairy Lights
— Fantasy Weapons
— Feathers
— Fish
— Gems & Pearls
— Ghostface
— Goblincore
— Maroon & Purple
— Minimalist Neutrals
— Mothman
— Music Notes
— Ocean | Part ii | Part iii
— Orange & Green Dividers
— Pale Pink Dividers
— Pancakes / Waffles
— Peaches
— Pink/Coquette (blue & purple)
— Pink & Yellow
— Pirate/Mermaid
— Pizza/Spaghetti
— Purple, Pink & Blue Dividers
— Rain/Storm
— Ravens/Moons/Roses
— Red/Black Scroll Work
— Red Riding Hood
— Red & Yellow Dividers
— Rings (Engagement/Christmas)
— Royalty
— Smutty | Pastel
— Stained Glass
— Taylor Swift (Folklore) | illcit affairs | reputation | evermore
— Vampires | Royalty
— Viking
— Warm Grey Dividers
— Waves / Leaves
— Witchy
— Werewolves
— Windows/Webcore
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✨(Everything was made using Canva - so check that app out if you’re looking to make your own! Credit is not required but a reblog would be great if you use! 💕) ✨
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cillianhead · 6 months
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Cillian married to high libido wife
Yes yes yes yes!
Thank you for your request <3
In Your Car, I'm A Star || Cillian Murphy x Reader
warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, vulgar language, sex in a car, unspecified somewhat large age gap between Cillian and reader, general adult content ahead. I'd also like to warn that this is a bit wordy and rambly and probably poorly written but I hope you enjoy it anyways!
18+ Minors DNI
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Insatiable little thing, you are, Cillian always said. Ever since you two had first met you couldn't keep your hands off of each other, the mental and emotional connection was there, of course, the love was real, and that made the physical contact so much better. His hands over your body, cock in your mouth, hands in your hair, you sitting in his lap... it didn't matter what you were doing, you just had to be touching him at all times.
You got married after a year spent together, and you'd go wherever he went, Cillian never wanted you to leave his side, he was madly in love with you, you were his muse, his everything. You two were devastatingly in love, two twin flames, you were meant to be together. No matter the age gap or what the public thought about you and how much younger you are than Cillian. Cillian didn't care, he just loved you for you.
Now Cillian being an older man, sometimes he can't handle your high libido. At first in your relationship, it was ridiculous how much sex you two were having, it was a constant. You'd go to work and then you'd see him and your clothes came off within a blink of an eye and you'd milk Cillian dry and then you'd still be begging for more. You've done it in every single room of your home, in his car, in a public park, and in other morally questionable places that you'd rather not discuss with anyone else but him. You've slowed down a bit but you're both at a healthy at least twice-a-day sort of thing. How could you not want to constantly ravish him? You have him all to yourself, completely wrapped around your finger... or maybe you were wrapped around his. He had learned ways to tame you like a wild horse, ways to get you to calm down like stuffing you full of his fingers, letting you ride his thigh while he worked, shoving his cock down your throat to mute your bratty requests. You always got what you wanted though... how could he ever deny you, his sweet little wife, of what she so desperately craved?
Now you were sat in an award ceremony, restless, knee bouncing up and down. A deep maroon gown was your outfit, pearls tightly clasped around your neck, you were dressed elegantly and stood out amongst the crowd, especially when you sat next to the one and only Cillian Murphy. He wore a sheer button-up, in complete black, he looked incredibly mysterious and honestly, you were ready to pounce on him like a jaguar would to its prey. Unfortunately, you were surrounded by hundreds of people, most of whom were some sort of important celebrity figure and you knew Cillian would hate to make a scene.
"Show's almost over, sweet thing," Cillian whispered in your ear, his hand slipped onto your bare thigh, in between the slit of your crimson dress. "Then we'll get outta here..." You knew he could feel your hungry eyes on him all night.
He hadn't touched you all night long- wait that's actually a lie, he'd eaten you out to settle you down a bit before you got to the venue but that wasn't enough. It never was with you. But the feeling of his fingers caressing the skin on your inner thighs made you feel like you could cum right then and there. Cillian continued to suggestively stroke your sensitive skin as the night went on. People would walk over to greet Cillian, but his hand was covered by the cloth of the table so no one could see his hand gripping onto your thigh in annoyance of having to talk to someone who wasn't you. He didn't stand up, he just remained seated, nodding along and smiling as politely as he could to this person just trying to make conversation.
As soon as you got the signal that you could leave, Cillian grabbed your wrist and pulled you protectively into his side, guiding you by your lower back out of the event and towards where he had his car. It was all too swift for you to truly process, having him push you down into the passenger seat before he himself sat in the driver's seat. You watched him as he leaned over to put the car in reverse, the way he looked back out at the road, one hand on the headrest of your seat, so focused and oh so sexy.
"Cillian..." You whined, he was driving way too slow and your home was way too far for your liking. "I need you now."
"I know," He smirked at you briefly before sticking his eyes back on the road. "Trying to get us home as fast as possible, love."
"No," You complained. "Need you. Right now."
Cillian glanced at you with an incredulous look before he swerved over to the side of the road, a bit too reckless and at this point, it didn't matter... you just needed to be fucked. It was a somewhat secluded area, a dimly lit backstreet that only the occasional passerby would walk at this hour. "Get in the back." Cillian hummed cooly, checking himself out in the rearview mirror as you slipped into the backseat, spreading your legs for him with anticipation.
"Cillian... hurry..." You whispered, he was combing through his hair, occasionally making eye contact with you through the mirror before he sighed and stepped out of the car. Casually strolling over to your side of the car. Cillian opened the car door, crawling into the backseat with you and connecting his lips with yours as his fingers trailed up your shaky legs. His touch was like a drug, you couldn't get enough of the feeling of Cillian's skin on yours, no matter how little or how much you got of it.
The kiss was wet and sloppy, tongues thrashing together, teeth biting down on each other's lips. It was like you were racing to see who could consume each other faster... harder... deeper. Cillian's hand reaches up and unzips your dress, the straps falling off your bare shoulders until he tugged it off of you completely. Naked and horny in the back of his car.
"Fucking hell," Cillian gasps out at the sight of you, jaw agape as he eyes you up and down. "What am I to do with you? Hmm? So fucking beautiful." He leans in again, attaching starving lips to the hot skin of your neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin. "I'm the luckiest man in the world." You just smiled bashfully, Cillian was incredibly affectionate, especially verbally. He always told you how he was the luckiest man in the world or how you're a goddess that needs to be worshipped. You felt like it was the other way around.
You grabbed ahold of his coat, pulling it roughly off of him. "I love you in this shirt, Cillian..." You whispered, tenderly rubbing the palm of your hand over his chest. "So pretty." He just looked at you, eyes deeply filled with a wonderful concoction of lust and love. You knew that look, you'd seen it a million times; his lips parted, panting heavily, eyebrows knitted together, eyelids hung heavy, and pupils wide. It was the look of love. A look that said 'Take me, I'm yours'.
By now, you had straddled him, pushing him up against the backseat and unzipping his pants, you wanted to keep him in his shirt, you wanted to admire the view. In the backseat of his car, you slipped his cock out of his dress pants, the dirty act turning you on even further as you stroked him slowly, getting off on teasing him.
"Stop your teasing," Cillian grunted, eyes squeezed shut as he bucked up into your fist. "I know you need me just as badly as I need you, baby."
"Mmm," You caught your lip in between your teeth, rubbing your clit on the head of his dick before slowly sliding down on him. "I wish you could always be inside me, feels so good."
"I know, honey," Cillian leaned his head into the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths as you began rocking your hips back and forth. "Ride me, baby, that's it... good girl..." He moaned loudly and desperately, hands gripping onto your hips with a sense of urgency, helping guide you back and forth on his hard cock.
You threw your head back, giving Cillian a show, tits bouncing right in front of his face and fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders. The windows fogged up and the car rocked back and forth with each rough movement you made.
"Fuckin whore," Cillian snarled, growing closer and closer to the edge himself, head hazy and eyes watching you intently. "Can't believe how fucking horny you are all the time, can never get enough of me, can you?" He tapped your cheek with two of his fingers to get you to respond.
"No, just love you so much... I want... you all the time."
"So cute," He chuckled, you hung your head low with embarrassment at him calling you 'cute'. "My pretty girl, hmm.... my angel girl, I love you." He praised. Your hands slid up your waist and groped at your tits, fingers twiddling your nipples, making you moan further. There was no doubt that if anyone were to even just casually walk by they could tell what was going on. There was no point in hiding it now.
"God... fuck..." Your eyes were squeezed shut, mewling at the way his hands held your body and the sounds of his fucked out gasps for air. "Want your cum inside me, please!"
"Y'know I'll give it to ya, sweetheart, you've just gotta go on and take it from me."
You immediately dove in and kissed him, mouths open against each other, not really kissing, just sucking in each other's air. You felt spurts of hot cum shoot up into you as you began unravelling yourself, moaning with satisfaction at the feeling of him filling you up.
"Come on, that's it," Cillian mumbled in your ear. "So good... fuckin' so good to me, baby love."
He coaxed you through your orgasm, knees giving out around him as you fully sank down on his cock that still weakly spat his seed into you. You bit down on his neck, a tear slipping down your face, probably further ruining your makeup as your cum seeped out of you.
You sat there for a little longer, panting, coming down from how hard you came. "Thank you... Cillian."
"No need to thank me," He chuckled, pressing a loving kiss to your temple before pulling you back by your hair to take a look at your tired face. "Look so pretty after you fuck me, my goodness, I'm so bloody lucky." "Oh hush," You shook your head, biting your tongue and grinning at him coyly. "You're so sweet to me."
Cillian kissed you tenderly, hands cradling your head as you showed all your love and devotion to each other in the form of a kiss. "Let's go home and rest, yeah?" Cillian hummed, you nodded as you slid off of him. In unison, you both let out your own whimpers of sensitivity.
By the time you got home, it was around midnight or a little past midnight. You both immediately went up to your shared bedroom and into the lovely en suite connected to it. You found yourself sleepily sitting in the bubble bath, back pressed up against Cillian's bare chest as he hummed a love song softly into your ear.
"Cillian." You whined, clearly drowsy but also whiny about something else.
"Hmmm?" Cillian's hands stroked your waist innocently. You knew it was innocent, he didn't intend to turn you on but it was too much for your little mind to handle... you and your loving husband... naked in the bath together... his hands on you... it couldn't be a better time in your sex-crazed mind to be horny.
"Please touch me," You whispered. "Please."
"'M already touching you, sweet girl." He whispered back to you.
"Hmph!" You whined again, acting like you were giving him the cold shoulder and pulling away from him. You liked playing hard to get. "You know what I mean."
"Such a spoiled brat," He sits up with you this time, pushing your wet hair to the side and pressing kisses to your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "You really need me again? Hmm? Your cunt is so fuckin' greedy, so cock-hungry, aren't you?" He growled, fingers slipping down and pinching your clit harshly.
"Fuck... please..." You moaned in response. "Please... I need you always, Cillian." "Fucking insatiable," Cillian groaned. "That's what you are. How is an old man like me supposed to keep up with you?"
"Not an old man..." You sighed, leaning back and resting your head on his shoulder. "Please... baby... Cillian... just need you to make me cum..."
"I can do that." He sucked a bruise onto your collarbone, slipping two fingers into your pussy.
"You're the only one for me, Cillian," You cried. "Only one who can touch me like this... only one who can make me feel this good."
"I know, love," He said smugly. "All mine, isn't that right?"
"All yours." You agreed. He kissed your jaw happily at your response.
He slipped a third finger into your hole, thumb rubbing pleasing circles on your clit. You writhed around in the hot bath, mewling like you were being murdered. Pleasure shot through you like electricity, Cillian's lips on you were too much, your mind going into overdrive as he whispered dirty things in your ear. And oh fuck, the feeling of his tongue licking up your neck quickly brought you over the edge, you spasmed pathetically, squeezing his fingers that still stroked at your g-spot. You couldn't really tell because you were already submerged in water but you were pretty sure you just squirted all over him.
"Good girl," Cillian nipped at your earlobe playfully, slipping his fingers out from your overstimulated cunt. He licked his fingers clean, moaning like a madman at the taste of your cum on his sticky fingers. "Sweet girl."
"More." You demanded in a whisper. "Want more." "'Course you do," Cillian laughed, kissing your cheek. "Let's dry off, then I'll make sweet love to you in our bed. How's that sound, Mrs. Murphy?"
"Sounds good." You hummed happily.
-
I'm back! I hope you enjoyed!
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cosmikazie · 6 months
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back by popular demand
scavenger tumblr 2: the scavenging
🧨 grenade-maker
where my karma marker gang at
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☠️ pearl-toter Follow
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totally got you bro
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💡 lantern-scouse-9273 Follow
yeeeeah dude
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💣 spears-and-masters Follow
just a note, might wanna be careful about revealing your karma level online. you never know who might be seeking your karma
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🌗 metropolis-sky Follow
when was the last time that has ever been a problem
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💣 spears-and-masters Follow
the maroon beast might be looking for your karma levels to get to our city. they are still a very real threat
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🌗 metropolis-sky Follow
"THE MAROON BEAST"????? HELP I CANT
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💣 spears-and-masters Follow
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i mean honestly what did you expect after you gave your karma symbol to an anonymous poster named "grenade-maker"
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thecupidwitch · 27 days
Text
Planetary Magick🌙
Sun
Zodiac: Leo
Metal: Gold
Day: Sunday
Colors: organge, yellow, amber
Stones: Amber, topaz, ruby, diamond
Tarot: The Sun
Herbs: Angelica, poppy, sunflower, marigold, hibiscus, mistletoe
Symbols: lion, hexagram, sparrow hawk, dragon, head, heart, swan
Influences: renown, potency, fortune, tyranny, pride, ambition, masculinity, arrogance, bigotry, vitality, health
Moon
Zodiac: cancer
Metal: sliver
Day: Monday
Colors: blue, sliver
Stones: moonstone, pearl
Tarot: The High Priestess, The Chariot
Herbs: eucalyptus, coconut, jasmine, lotus, myrrh, sandalwood
Symbols: bow and arrow, crab, cat, turtle, Sphinx, owl
Influences: gradtitufe, friendliness, safe, travel, physical health, wealth, protection for enemies, deception, illusion, women, emotions, healing, dreams
Mercury
Zodiac: Virgo, Gemini
Metal: aluminum, Mercury
Day: Wednesday
Colors: violet, gray, purple, indigo, yellow
Stones: opal agate
Tarot: The Lovers
Herbs: hyssop, juniper, betony, carrot, chickweed
Symbols: wand, octagram, the mind
Influences: good fortune, gratitude, gain, memory, understanding, divination, dreams, forgetfulness, communication, business, cleverness, creativity, information, intellect, memory, perception, science, wisdom, gambling, writing, root of dishonesty, deception
Venus
Zodiac: taurus, libra
Metal: copper
Day: Friday
Colors: green, pink
Stones: turquoise, emerald, sapphire, jade
Tarot: The Empress
Herbs: jimsonweed, violet, rose, alder, apple, angelica, olive, sesame
Symbols: sparrow, dove, swan, pentagram
Influences: peace, agreements, cooperation, fertility, joy, love, good fortune, jealousy, strife, promiscuity
Mars
Zodiac: aries, scorpio
Metal: iron, red brass, steel
Day: Tuesday
Color: Red
Stones: ruby, garnet, bloodstone, diamond
Tarot: The Tower
Herbs: ginger, mustard
Symbols: sword, pentagram, horse, bear, wolf, vulture
Influences: war, victory, judgements, submission of enemies, bleeding, stripping one of rank, harness, discord, conflict, aggression, lust, power, courage, goals, protection, motivation, ambition, strength
Jupiter
Zodiac: pisces, sagittarius
Metal: tin
Day: Thursday 
Colors: blue
Stone: sapphire
Tarot: The Wheel of Fortune
Herbs: balm, hyssop, maple leaf and bark, oak, sage, dandelion root
Symbols: eagle, dolphin
Influences: gains, riches, favor, peace, cooperation, appeasing enemies, dissolving
Saturn
Zodiac: capricorn
Metal: lead
Day: Saturday
Color: black
Stone: onyx
Taror: The World
Herbs: alder, apple, ash, asparagus, baneberry, belladonna, distort, hellebore, blackthorn, corm, cypress
Symbols: cuttlefish, mole
Influences: safety, power, success, positive response to requests, intellect, causes discord, strips honor, melancholy
Uranus
Zodiac: aquarius
Day: Thursday
Colors: blue-green, electric blue
Stones: quartz, labradorite, blue topaz, amber, amethyst, garnet, diamond
Tarot: The Fool
Herbs: clover, pokeweed, snowdrop, foxglove, love, rosemary, trees of heaven, hellebore, morning glory, sage, wintergreen, orchids, sweet woodruff
Symbols: dragonfly, butterfly
Influences: breaking connection, sudden and unexpected change, freedom, originality, radical and revolutionary ideas, enlightenment, equality, individuality, rebellion, instability, loneliness, boredom, mistrust of self
Neptune
Zodiac: pisces
Minerals: coral, aquamarine, platinum, neptunium
Colors: green, blue, lavender
Tarot: The Hanged Man
Herbs: morning glory, night-blooming jasmine, pine, water lily
Symbols: the sea, Trident, the spine
Influences: dissolving boundaries, expanding upon ideas, changing established rules, intuition, idealism, sacrifice, glamour, illusion, evolution, decay, visions, art, healing, inspiration, dreams, creativity, compassion, drifting from reality, carelessness, stubbornness, absent mind
Pluto
Zodiac: scorpio
Metal: plutonium, tin chrome, steel
Day: Tuesday
Colors: maroon, dark red, purple, white, black
Stones: snowflake obsidian, clack tourmaline
Tarot: Judgement
Herbs: pomegranate, rosemary, vanilla, basil, poppies, belladonna, foxglove
Symbols: Phoenix, snake, scorpion, fox, eagle
Influences; destruction making way for renewal, rebirth, knowledge, spirituality, transformation, destiny, the subconscious, desire, arrogance, death, obsession, destruction
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manicpixiefelix · 3 months
Text
alone with you
{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }
Summary: In a slight diversion from the events of he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way), Felix finds you outside the maze, and can't bring himself to believe you're anything more than passed out. So in denial, he brings you inside, gets you cleaned up, and dwells on the events of the night before, waiting for a best friend who will never wake up.
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. THERE IS A MOMENT WHERE FELIX PICKS UP AND CARRIES THE READER, I APOLOGISE IF THIS IS IMMERSION BREAKING FOR ANYONE.
Warnings: you are dead in this one. ANGST, felix being in absolute denial to the point where its upsetting, felix dwelling on the argument from oliver's party and being in absolute misery. sad times at saltburn. so much denial and angst. felix interacting with your dead body as if it's alive (taking care of after a night out, nothing more)
A/N: 3103 words. so this is based on this beautiful prompt by @r1dd1kulus, however i do have to apologise that i tweaked the original prompt. it's mainly now just felix being in massive, upsetting denial and a study on reader & felix & the maze & the fight. i would have loved to include the lunch scene and the family being shocked and possibly playing along, but i'm genuinly sorry but i couldn't get it to work in a way that didn't feel like Weekend At Bernie's. which is a terrible thing to refernce at the start of my arguably saddest fic yet. love u, please let me know what you think, especially because i did some fuckery with the style and formatting idk have a time :o)
The poem used in the fic is the first stanza of Love's Philosophy by Percy Shelly.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
"Fi, please -"
"God you're cold," Felix pulls you into his lap, limp, quiet, still in those beautiful green garments from the party, "can't believe you slept out here, no wonder you're freezing," he mumbled to himself. Its still early, only just broken dawn, but he's been up all night, searching for you.
Without thinking, he pulls off his robe, maroon and still fluffy from a recent wash, and gently manoeuvres you to get it on. Now in the same white singlet from the night before and his pyjama shorts, he cradles you to him.
"Sorry for getting mad last night," he mumbled into your hair, delicately picking leaves and grass from you, "and making you wait out here; I should have known," his breath catches; he holds you tighter, "really should have known, of course you'd be out here." Then, barely above a whisper, he takes your ice cold hand, "love you."
When you're quiet still, unresponsive, he thinks about how messed up you were when he last saw you, stumbling, almost faceplanting on the dancefloor, how he'd chosen to leave you like that. Another wave of guilt, another apology murmured against the cool skin of your temple. It had been a truly rough state, no wonder it had hit you so hard. So he scoops you up, keeps you close, and carries you back to the house.
"Fi, please -"
"Duncan," he calls out, seeing the tail of the butler disappearing around a corner as he cradles you, carries you up the stairs. Duncan stops, peers back around, tired look in his eyes; Felix wonders if he'd slept either, "Y/N had a rough night, we'll be taking breakfast in our room," he informs. Duncan gives a tight-lipped smile and nods, gaze momentarily sliding to you in his arms.
"Will there be anything else, Sir?" When he means is everything okay?
"That's all, thank you, Duncan," Felix returned the tight smile and continued on his way.
He's not sure if he should be annoyed or concerned at your stubbornness, but he is gentle with you nonetheless, closes his bedroom door behind him with his foot and takes you straight to the bathroom.
"I didn't mean it," he murmurs, picking the pearls out of your hair that he'd watched you meticulously place the night before. You're propped up in the bath, and he's kneeling beside, desperately hoping you'll open your eyes to the sound of his voice, "about wanting you out for the rest of Summer, I couldn't even go one night." Everything he does is with care, wiping off your makeup, "don't know what I'm going to do when the semester starts," he says distractedly, "can you pull the kind of strings to let us share a room? If anyone could it would be you."
He takes his time with removing your costume, respectful of the detail you'd put into it, not wanting to damage any part if he could help it. When he runs the bath he apologises for it being so cold at first, but makes sure it never gets too hot.
"Let's get you warmed up," he's seen you naked more times than he could ever count; there's nothing lewd about this moment, all he wants is to take care of you. For just a moment, he holds your wrist, fingers against the soft skin where your pulse should beat. It must be weak after last night, or he's misremembering and holding the wrong spot, "love, can you hear me?" ("Fi-") Fear flickers in his heart briefly, but he disregards it out of hand, "remind me to never let you get this fucked up again," he tries to calm his own nervous heart. ("Please -")
He washes the sweat and grime and dirt of the night off with the body wash of yours that he's always loved the smell of, even if his own clothes are sopping wet from the effort by the time he's done.
"Better?" No response, "well when you wake up you should be feeling better at least. Warmer too."
And he dries you, and dresses you in the most comfortable clothes he knows you own, and tucks you into bed, telling you with a sigh to sleep it off. The clothes he throws on himself are comfortable too, the sweater he chooses from the back of his closet has always been too big on him, but he feels like he needs it now, needs to pull the collar up over his face for just a second to hide in it from the world. But just a second. Because he's fine, he tells himself, everything's fine.
There's two plates of food at the door; he's not sure if you'll be up to eat your before lunch, so he puts it on the dresser, shoving aside the delicate and meticulously chosen jewels and accessories you'd collected for both costumes last night that neither of you even touched. When he thinks too hard about the disappointed, heartbroken look you'd given him when he'd disregarded so much of your hard work last night, a lump forms in his throat.
So he heads to his balcony to eat, and try not to think about last night.
"Fi, please -"
But he can't. The details haunt him with how they all blur into each other. Laughter and lights, trying to drown out the betrayal of Oliver, the way you were please edging on betraying him too it seemed. Everything getting better, getting worse in a cycle - "I'm not a monster for having a heart, Felix."
He feels like a fucking monster.
The truth he'd called audacity and blamed on the drugs in the box that you'd pushed into his hands as you'd flayed his already damaged ego -
"You just don't like what the lies he used to keep you around say about you."
"I'm done with you."
He's never regretted something so immediately, but you knew him best, if anyone was going to be able to tear him apart at the seams, it would have always been you.
"I'm done with you."
"I'm done with you."
But he was too wounded to do anything but double down. Kick you out. Fuck.
"Fi, please -" he'd made you cry. He was going to spend the rest of his life apologising to you for last night, and even then he'd never feel like it was enough. Because he was fucking aching, and hated himself, and saw you through the crowd when it hit him just how badly he'd fucked up. Couldn't face himself, his mistakes. Double down; he could blame it on the alcohol or the drugs or the betrayal, but it was his own fucking fault. Fuck. Instead of just enjoying the night, he watches Oliver catch you before you can fall, and he feels the spite and self loathing in his veins.
India was pretty and willing and there. When he takes her by the hand and tells her how magical the maze is, he's only thinking of you. He's thinking of every time he'd ever suggested trying to get lost in the maze because he was bored, and every time you'd followed him in without question. He remembers making out and hooking up and giggling as the two of you hid from Farleigh and Venetia; you two knew the maze far better than anyone else did, it was your place.
And he thinks about the evening where he found you with a copy of one of the many books from the library, laying in the middle of the maze, frowning up at it. Seventeen, hiding from the last days of Summer heat before it was back to school.
"Percy Shelly," you recognised Felix by his footsteps; no-one in the world could ever know him better, "writes nothing like his wife," you announced. He's having trouble getting a read on how you feel about this. But you snap the book closed and sit up, "what are you up to?"
"I wanted to see what you were up to."
Groaning loudly, you flopped back down, clearly bored out of your mind. You announce that you want to do something, but you don't want to be around people - Felix doesn't count, Felix never counts when you talked like that, he was yours, and you were his; indefinable. So he gets snacks and you have a picnic, but as it gets dark enough to see the stars, you're still strangely in your head. He's leading, because sometimes you get like this, even at this age, so you loop a finger through one of his belt loops and trust him to lead you to safety while your focus drifts elsewhere. He's even carrying that Percy Shelly book for you. It's a years old tradition; the maze always seemed to put some kind of spell on you. Sometimes Felix could even feel it too. This place was your place, this place was magic.
When he glances back, you're looking into the hedges, fingers snagging on the leaves, dipping further in to where all the vines and branches twist together and become impenetrable. Lips moving, he can't quite hear what you're saying, surprised that you're saying anything at all, but he can't help but stop. You run into him, and it's like the spell is broken.
"Everything okay? Sorry I was -"
"- talking to yourself," he laughs, but not unkindly. Judging by your suddenly pensive expression, however, you seemed to have been at least aware that you were doing it.
"Thinking about one of the Shelly poems actually, he's actually pretty alright, even if it isn't Frankenstein."
"Wait, he's Mister Missus Frankenstein -?" it's genuinely news to him, even at seventeen himself, but you clearly find his wording endearing.
"Yeah, but he's a poet," you grin. Very suddenly you look to your hand, still out, finger looped in Felix's belt loop by his hip, "um, he's good is all," Felix isn't used to you sounding flustered and is a bit caught off guard by it. He knows you don't judge each other, you never have -
"Which one?"
"No, it's- I don't remember, I'll get it wrong or something, it's stupid, I was just trying to do some Summer reading for school -"
"Come on, you were just -"
"Dunno, Fi, I forgot!" You practically shouted, taking your hand back to cross your arms, shrinking in on yourself in a surprisingly childish manner. Felix goes very quiet as he tells you it's okay, that you should just head back, it doesn't matter. Your footsteps still follow him, however, even as he makes a wrong turn in his confused, vaguely upset state. You don't correct him, you don't leave him, you just follow him, as you always have.
He hears your deep breath when you take it, hears you sigh in the way that means you're settling yourself, and it's like he can physically feel his heart ease when he feels that same pressure by his hip. Two fingers this time, curled in his belt loop. He doesn't look back, he still gives you whatever space you need -
"The fountains, um, mingle with the river," he can hear the awkward nerves in your voice when you start speaking, but he knows better than to interrupt, "and the rivers with the ocean, the winds of -" you pause for a long time, he can only imagine your face scrunched up as you tried to remember, "gimme a sec," you muttered, "this isn't quite the part I keep thinking about so I haven't been thinking about it as much."
"Surprised you even remember this much; your memory is so cool," Felix means it very genuinely, and your abashed laughter is like music to his ears.
"Okay, I think it's; the winds of heaven mix forever with a sweet emotion..." you trail off.
"It's nice," Felix offers, but you're quiet. Actually, you stop; it tugs on his belt loop.
"'s not the part," you frown, but can't look at him, "and I keep thinking about this part, and then I feel weird for thinking about it, because I'm like, this feels... like too much. Like I feel like a freak, even though, like, we're us."
You and Felix had been YouAndFelix for years by this point.
"What poem is it?" Felix asks softly, beginning to open the book, but your face scrunches up in embarrassment, snatching it out of his hands with your free one.
"Fuck, don't read it, fine -" you tuck the book under your arm for safekeeping, wearing an embarrassed little scowl. Then, under your breath you admit, "read it like twenty times, just this one bit, it's burned into my brain it feels like." And you let go of his belt loop, crossing your arms as you nervously shift your weight from one foot to the other.
"Spit it out or I'm going to make you do it in a way that's, like infinitely more embarrassing, and I won't let you leave until you do it that way," Felix threatens. You make a face, asking what the hell he intends to do; Felix puffs out his chest, "I'm gonna make you tell me it like it's one of mum's trashy Mills & Boon novels that she thinks we don't know about; gonna hold your face real close and make you look me in the eyes while you say it," he pauses, deliberating, "I might make stupid faces, I am still deciding on that -"
"Okay," you say softly, all quiet and nervous and surprisingly sweet.
"What?"
"Just maybe," you give a nervous laugh, "don't make faces; it might be easier for me if you're being weird about it - why am I even doing this, you're not holding me at gunpoint, I can just -"
But then Felix is stepping up to you, two fingers delicately lifting your chin, leaning in so your faces were inches apart.
"Better?" Low and warm like he's straight out of a romance film, he takes the moment serious, smiling softly.
He can see in your eyes that you're still nervous, but there's no-one else in the world who looks at him the way you do. None of them have even come close; he doesn't know when exactly either of you realised, but neither of you have even of a shadow of a doubt that you love each other. Moments like this seem to remind him. The maze is a magical place.
"With," you take a deep breath, focusing on him and only him as you reiterated the last line you'd given just before, "a sweet emotion;" you swallowed hard, "nothing," you blink hard and restart, an endearingly nervous shake in your voice, "nothing in the world is single," you take a deep breath and oh, he knows you well enough, knows why the line hits you in the chest, the same as it just hit him, "all things by a law divine, in one spirit meet and mingle," you wet your lips, finally having gotten over your nerves. Your gentle smile makes this whole moment shine, "why not I with thine?"
Of course he kisses you, fucking of course he kisses you! Of course it takes the two of you another half hour to get out the maze despite the entrance being around the corner, what's he going to do? Not make out with you until the two of you can barely breathe? No! He'd drown himself in you and that moment if he was physically capable of it? He's never felt so damn romanced in his life!
YouAndFelix. You are his. He is yours. Undefinable. Inseparable.
In the present he was barely eating anything compared to the amount he was tearing apart until it was essentially breakfast sand. He'd felt drunk and betrayed and desperately wanted to hurt you. It was the easiest way to hurt himself.
So he took India to the place he spent years falling in love with you, and defiled that magical sacred damn space, with his cock in the first poor, willing girl who didn't even matter to him.
"Fi, please -"
He needs you to wake up soon, needs you to say something, needs you to say anything to band aid over that stupid fucking fight that he wishes more than anything that he could take -
"Fi, please -" You were sobbing. You were fucking sobbing, begging, and he left.
"Felix, darling," his mother's voice from downstairs, peering up at the balcony. Hand up, shading her eyes, the workers move around her, clean up as if she's not even there, "is Y/N still with you?"
"Yeah -" asleep, asleep, warm and resting and tucked in and safe and sleeping it all off, every bad thing from last night. Wake up. Let me say sorry.
"Duncan said they were under the weather, is everything alright?"
"Sleeping off last night," he keeps playing with his breakfast sand. The jam holding it together makes it look like viscera. Too much jam. Too much blood. Too much. All too much.
"Will you both be making it to lunch? We're about to serve."
"Yeah, I'll -" what if you don't wake up for lunch? What if it's worse than he thought? Or what if you're still being damn stubborn and the joke's on him.
Please let the joke be on him. After last night he deserves it.
"- we'll be there."
He'll do anything for you to wake up.
"You're right," he should have said, "I know you're right. I know you're trying to help me because I can't see clearly because I don't want to face the world if that's what Oliver thinks of me. Because I love him. I love him for who he is now, I don't care where he came from, but it makes me sick to think that Oliver thought I couldn't love him - couldn't even spare him a second glance, if I didn't, at first, think I have to save him.
I use the people I love. I take everything for granted, even myself. Even you; especially you. I love you the most, I use you the most. I know I don't want to lose one of the people I love the most because he bruised my ego. I know you want me to see that. And I do. And I see how good you are to me, how good you've always been.
YouAndMe. You're mine; I'm yours."
"I'm done with you."
And the last thing he hears from you is the despair in your voice, cry as he leaves -
"Fi, please -"
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