Tumgik
#Freckles constellations are a thing
definitelyamortal · 4 months
Text
Humanish designs for some Sanses.
Tumblr media
33 notes · View notes
unganseylike · 6 months
Text
currently reading invisible life of addie larue and its fine so far but cant figure out why the fuck everyone is obsessed w her fucken freckles. like am i not understanding what they define as freckles??? bc i simply cannot imagine why anyone cares having 7 freckles is hardly even a distinctive feature let alone a goddamn constellation
23 notes · View notes
nico-di-genova · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Prince Rilian of Narnia, first of his name.
Son of Caspian the Tenth and Lilliandil the Star.
Unifier of Sky and Sea, Narnia’s Continuing Hope
53 notes · View notes
analyticallyminded · 7 months
Text
tag drop 1/?
muse.
1 note · View note
analyticallymindedaa · 7 months
Text
tag dropping bc tumblr ate my tags part 1
0 notes
woodnrust · 1 year
Text
Good news I have three new moles on my face, excellent additions to my already abundant collection. Not so great news one of them is so close to the side of my mouth it kind of looks like a crumb and I get the urge to swipe it off
1 note · View note
satorkive · 3 months
Text
A MORTAL AND A GOD 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ SATORU
gojo satoru, the strongest and the most attractive man who graced this earth, thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.
and that’s objectively true.
when the ivory-haired boy first met your breathtaking face, he was stunned.
he was cracking a joke with suguru when you stepped inside the classroom.
and wow. you managed to make their breaths away by just existing.
he even heard suguru muttering ‘holy shit’ before he immediately closed his mouth. even yaga-sensei stared at you (not in a creepy way, no). he seemed in awe.
your teacher cleared his throat and gestured for you to introduce yourself.
your steps were light and graceful, like a ballerina dancing on a platform. your skirt bounced around your legs and it made you look like a girl getting ready for a dance.
you waved your hand and gave them a smile that could even save them from having expensive electricity bills.
“hi! i’m [name]! nice to meet you!” your mellifluous voice rang around the room and suguru couldn’t help but cursed again.
“holy fuck.”
“geto.” yaga’s deep, thunderous voice made the student’s face cold.
your giggles feel like a twinkling bells during christmas that satoru didn’t speak for the whole day.
that’s how impressive your presence affected him.
since then, he has found himself wanting your attention. he wants those pretty, pretty eyes of yours to always bathe him with attention.
his nickname for you was bambi.
you are like a deer—wide, expressive eyes surrounded by long lashes; nose that scrunches up cutely when he does something silly; lips that always seems to be pouting and begging to be kissed; and those freckles. god, those beautiful freckles that look like constellations and can probably map the universe if someone wants to.
he would gladly smooch that lips if only suguru and shoko stopped being hindrances!
suguru, the traitor, seems to be in competition with satoru. his upturned eyes crinkle at the sight of your beaming face whenever you talk about clouds, flowers, and nature with him. he also can’t take his eyes off you. you are like the sun—beckoning everyone to have a light of yourself. you are the only thing that put a smile on other people’s faces. you bless them with your unending kindness, stunning grace, and a heart of gold. if heaven is a sight, you surely are it.
shoko, the betrayer, wants to hog all your divine attentiveness. being the sole student in medicine, she finds herself being enamored at you when you asks her questions regarding her technique. how does it work? how sure are you it will work? can anyone do it? can i see you do it?
when she sees how celestial your presence emits around her, she now understands why suguru can’t stop staring at you and why satoru can’t stop rambling about you.
satoru. oh, satoru.
poor satoru who can’t still figure out why your lips smile brighter when you see him. he can’t still figure out why your steps are full of pep. he can’t figure out why you almost do a pirouette when you turn back to look at him. he can’t figure out why your cheeks seem to have a color on it.
poor, dense satoru.
all he wants to do is to be yours forever and ever; because no woman will ever be it for him as he is yours and you are his and he knows—he knows in his life that if a devil ever lays his eyes on you, he will bend on his knees and repent because—
you made a god like him leave the heavens and on bended knees; crawling to you and kissing your feet like a devoted prayer.
909 notes · View notes
nerdpoe · 9 months
Text
Soulmate marks are indicative of your soulmate's favorite thing.
And one of the batkids has absolutely none.
Sure, they've got freckles (an embarrassing amount, actually), scars, the occasional beauty mark; but no soulmark.
This means a few things; their soulmate doesn't exist, they haven't been born yet, or that they died before said batkid was born.
Seeing as Soulmates can be entirely platonic, even becoming family units later, not getting a soulmate until later in life is not unheard of.
So that batkid is waiting for their soulmate to be born, lowkey embarrassed that they're going to inevitably follow in Bruce's footsteps.
Until a chance encounter with a Soulmark specialist while they're in their civvies changes absolutely everything with one sentence.
"Oh wow, your soulmate must love stars to cover you up with the constellations of them."
2K notes · View notes
cybersunnie · 12 days
Text
So Divine ✶ Steve Harrington
18+ / MDNI — literally just smut w/ some fluff, f!reader, petnames (sweetheart, baby) got inspired by @/season4steve's comments (wc: 1k)
Tumblr media
Steve was a gentle lover.
Compliments, spontaneous gifts, late-night calls because he wanted to hear your voice before bed. He was always soft and sweet with you, all boyish charm and smiles.
With his parents out of town again, you and Steve had the house all to yourselves. It started innocently. A movie night at his place, cuddling on the couch, the light touch on your hip growing more greedy as the night went on. You tried to ignore it, eyes trained on the screen, but you were still all too aware of his glances and smirks that meant no good. 
Your efforts were pointless.
The cheesy horror flick Steve had mindlessly picked out at work turned into background noise when he leaned in and kissed you slow, testing the waters. Your lips melted between his, warmth blossoming in your chest, your skin tingling. Whispers of I want you filled your ears, and you were suddenly putty in his hands—a mindless thing made of flesh and bones.
One thing led to another, and the both of you stumbled up the stairs and to his bedroom, giggling into the other’s mouth.
Your curves and edges, and his scars and birthmarks.
Steve had you pinned beneath him, his sheets wrinkled and a mess, clothes discarded and forgotten. You gasped so prettily for him, your face crumbling with ecstasy every time his hips snapped forward to meet yours, the slow drag of his cock making your head spin.
Even as he took you, Steve was nothing but gentle. Every kiss and touch ghosted over your skin like he was afraid to hurt you. 
As if you were a delicate flower, each limb a petal he wanted to preserve, to dote on. 
“You’re so pretty,” he rasped out, his nose nudging yours, urging you to look at him.
You keened, cheeks burning, eyes hazy with pleasure. How Steve looked at you was overwhelming—like you were the only good thing in the world.
"Yeah? You like being my pretty girl?"
You nodded and held him tighter, not wanting this to end. Your nails dug into his back, the crescent indents adding to his constellation of moles and freckles.
With Steve, all you saw were stars.
His gaze softened, a crinkle between his brows. "I know you do," he murmured, ducking his head down and kissing your jaw. Steve felt you shiver, your cunt squeezing his cock, snug and warm. He fought the urge to bite your shoulder as he buried himself deeper inside of you. "Fuck, sweetheart. You're killing me."
You wondered if Steve knew how much control he had over you. If he knew that his voice made everything around you feel light. If he knew that, in your mind, he embodied the night sky.
That he was timeless. Divine. A mysterious beauty.
He deserved to know.
But your voice was gone, the words stuck in your throat. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. The inevitable inched closer. You could only utter a meek whimper of his name with your fingers digging into his flesh. 
Steve pulled his face from your neck and looked at you, stilling himself. “What, baby?”
He sounded so concerned, so sincere—it just made you want him more.
You whined and pressed the heels of your feet against his ass, begging him to move, to keep fucking you. Thankfully, Steve took the hint, pulling out a few inches before pushing back in, his heart swelling with pride when you whimpered.
Steve knew you were close. He could fucking feel it.
"Keep squeezing me like that—holy shit," Steve groaned, almost whining, as your cunt pulsated around his cock. "You're close, huh? You gonna come for me?"
Overwhelmed, you shut your eyes. It was too much. Steve's body flushed with yours, your ears buzzing, your heart pounding so hard it rattled your ribcage—it was all too much.
And Steve noticed. He always noticed.
Soft and soothing, he whispered your name and grasped your chin, your skin warming under his fingertips.
"Look at me."
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. Steve smiled the same smile that swept you off your feet the first time you met him. He leaned his forehead against yours, his usual sweet brown eyes hardened with lust, with the desire to please you.
"There we go," Steve murmured, kissing your lips. He let go of your chin and moved his hand, his large palm enveloping the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your brows drawing tightly together as Steve kept fucking you nice and slow. "You still with me, yeah?"
You nodded, mind-numbing.
"Yeah," he cooed, his mouth hovering over yours, breaths mingling. A pitiful whine escaped you, and he swallowed it with another kiss. "You're okay. You're doing so good."
It was all tangled heat and longing. Your hands trailed into his hair, soft and roots drenched with sweat. Mouths hung open, moans and gasps, your hearts becoming one.
Steve grunted, head dipping down into the crook of your neck, his hips rocking into yours. "C'mon, baby, give it to me."
You were at his mercy, unprotected, bare of armor.
The knot snapped.
Pleasure erupted in the pit of your belly and wrecked through you. You cried out his name in gasps and moans, your legs locking around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Steve whimpered as if he was wounded, his thrusts faltering, tongue swirling over your pulse points, and teeth nipping at your skin.
Wrapped up in the other and your sweaty limbs entangled, the intensity died down, heavy breaths filling the air. Neither of you moved—a silent agreement to stay connected a little longer. 
"I love you," Steve whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw until he reached your mouth. He stared at you with adore-filled eyes, his cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from your own doing. "I love you so much."
Through your haze, you grinned, fingers sowing through his hair, "I love you more."
Steve snorted, shaking his head. "Impossible."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
author's note: yay i finally finished something!!!!! it had been such a long time since i wrote smut so i'm sorry if this wasn't up to par LMAO but i love me some soft and sappy sex
anyways i hope you enjoyed this!!! tysm for reading! <3
478 notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 8 months
Text
Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.
For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.
He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.
The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.
It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"
In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."
Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.
Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.
Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.
Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.
They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."
How can Eddie say no?
Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.
The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.
The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.
It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"
Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.
He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.
Eddie needs a break.
He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.
His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.
The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.
It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.
The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.
His eyes meet Steve's.
Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.
Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.
They're nothing to each other.
Never were.
By popular request: Part Two
2K notes · View notes
taetr4ck · 2 months
Text
and all these little things —
he who loves, dances upon the tapestry of stars. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
skz!maknae line x reader, 1.8k words overall, no warnings — fluff, comfort. (continuation of this request.) taglist form
a/n : ouuu this marks the end of skz's princess treatment series :( i enjoyed making these sm. and also i might have overenjoyed myself writing seungmin's part... whoops
Tumblr media
jisung who peels your fruits —
He who always offers to peel your fruits – the simple gesture Jisung does shows that love can be unspoken. It’s a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes. His love is pure, he is taking the time to take care of you.
“Ah, jagiya, let me do it,” Jisung says as he walks up to you in the kitchen, gently taking the orange from your hands. A declaration of love isn't always loaded with promises that can easily falter. Sometimes, love is about the little things that connect us. I love you can mean “You mean everything to me so I’m going to peel your oranges and remove the nasty white stuff off of it.” It can also mean “You know, I never really liked your favorite fruit, but your love for it changed my perspective. I started eating it too – it’s like my body was programmed to like the things you love. I can’t help but think of you when I eat them. Not because of the fruit itself, but because of the person who introduced me to its sweetness.” Love resides in these intricate details that complete the bigger picture together – love is a fragmented moment that you are supposed to piece together, alone, or with the person you chose to mend your love with. You chose to build the fragments with him, and any love he offers is yours to treasure.
If any, he will always choose to stand beside you, laughter permeating through the granite surface of the sleek kitchen counter – adorned with jars of spices and utensils, with a fruit in his hand – peeling his undying love for you. If the world were to end soon, he would want it to end at the kitchen counter, while you are laughing and he is smiling, sharing its last sweet bite before facing the twisted fate.
Through Jisung, you realize that love can be unspoken.
To love someone is firstly to confess,
'I’d always offer you a piece of my orange.'
felix who fixes your hair while you eat —
Felix cast a loving gaze at you from across the table of your favorite restaurant as you savored each bite of your meal – his focus completely on you. You caught his loving gaze, his eyes forming into crescents – and you swear his beauty can be one across the stars – his freckles akin to a constellation, sharing its beauty among the starry expanse of the universe. Without a word, he reached to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, his touch felt like a sacred prayer for which no words exist, and you can feel your heart taking over your body – as if you discovered something for which you don’t have a name for, his fingers gentle against your skin. The sudden touch seemed to startle you a bit, making the heat rush to your cheeks. He does this every time, unsure if you would ever get used to it.
He held your face between his palms, his eyes gazing at you lovingly – with a smile that seemed to belong to you completely gracing his lips. You never met someone like him before – where his touch felt like home, and his smile was the purest you had ever seen. It was as if he had found his sole reason to live, the sole reason to cherish the world he completely lived in. Since the first time he saw you, he swore his whole life belonged to you completely.
His actions carry an unspoken intimacy between you two. It's not just about tucking a stray hair; it's a gesture that speaks volumes about his attentiveness and the connection you share – like a devotion he swore to himself that he’s meant to love and cherish you. The warmth in his eyes matches the affectionate sweep of his fingers through your hair, creating a fleeting yet precious moment amidst the simple act of enjoying your favorite meal together. As long as you’re with Felix, you’ll always feel loved, cared for, and deeply understood – as if he has a unique ability to bring order to the disarray of both hair and the world around you.
seungmin who buys the same book —
The spontaneous trips to bookstores with Seungmin is always therapeutic. The paradise of books laid out in front of you makes your heart leap with excitement, your steps quickening as you scan the books with a carefree smile. The moment he sees that smile – how your face radiates amidst the calm atmosphere of the old bookstore in the middle of the night – he swears he sees stars in your eyes. He watches how your smile glistens when it tugs at your lips, followed by the crescents of your eyes – like the moon, perfectly mending the layout of your face, which is his universe. Your whole being is his universe. It feels like a dream to Seungmin. Is this what true love feels like? To see stars in the eyes of his universe? To see the moon within arm's reach?
That’s when he realizes he grabbed the same book you’re holding. You tilt your head in confusion, wondering why he grabbed the same piece.
“I want to read it with you,” he says, looking at you as if you’re iridescent. He isn’t sure how he will get used to this — you’re startlingly beautiful. He can’t look away.
He always reads the same book with you, attentively listening to your thoughts about the protagonist and their love interest. No matter how cliché the book may be, he's always here, eager to hear your every word. Your voice is a crafted melody to Seungmin, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. He loves witnessing every part of you – the sudden squeal when you reach the story's climax, the random faces you make when you read a passage that catches your attention, and the faint “tsk” when a character does an idiotic thing. He loves seeing and hearing all of it. He loves you in the strongest way there is.
You are loved more than you can ever comprehend. You’re loved by him to the point his presence alone is like waking up to sunlight. He loves you so deeply to the point he’s willing to engrave your name on the palms of his hands. A declaration of faith, perhaps.
There was a time when Seungmin grabbed the wrong book from the bedroom shelf and was startled to see lots of annotations upon flipping through the pages. It was your favorite book, with annotations scribbled excitedly. It seemed like they were all written in the spur of the moment, without minding what words would formulate in the movement of your hand. He flipped to the last page of the book and saw a handwritten note – the penmanship of which he knew every stroke.
“In the past, I always wondered when my love story would unfold. I once dreamt that my greatest love would exist in this lifetime – until Seungmin came. That’s when I realized that perhaps my invisible string exists in this timeline, at this very moment. I am convinced that it’s him — it’s him I’m destined for. It’s him I’m bound to love. This is the truth. I have loved him in every universe. I will love him in every universe. I always look at him as if there were stars in his eyes, sparkling with no intention of stopping. I’ve never met someone like him before. When I'm lost in fear, I always feel sheltered in his presence. I guess this is what love looks like, to be fully seen by someone and be loved regardless, the unwavering bliss of being known and understood.”
Seungmin felt a pang in his chest. His heart was full of a catastrophic whirlwind of emotions – overwhelming love that may be unbearable. With each sentence, the growing pain in his heart started to intensify. It was as if every word on the page seared into his heart even more, leaving an indelible mark of devotion and love beyond comprehension. As he read the letter, the depth of tenderness grew – wrapping around his soul like a tight embrace that threatened to suffocate in its intensity. This must be the feeling of being loved and cherished to the point where its depths transcend the physical realm, leaving the heart forever changed in its wake. The tears welling in Seungmin’s eyes might be hard to suppress as he reads the last sentence of the letter.
“My love for him is woven into the fabric of the universe.”
jeongin who matches outfits with you —
“Ta-da!” Jeongin exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with delight as he showed off his outfit to you, a proud yet excited grin escaping his lips.
“Wow, you really put a lot of effort into your outfit today. Are you sure we’re just doing groceries today, baby?” you jest, looking at him with a smile. Jeongin has a habit of matching outfits with you whatever the occasion is — whether it is a spontaneous trip to the grocery, a shopping spree, a planned day out, or a formal event. Whatever it is, he always takes the time to make sure his style complements yours perfectly, just like how your hearts complement each other. There is a subtle joy in sharing a wardrobe aesthetic; it’s as if both of your style and loving hearts are interconnected as one.
Jeongin’s eyes would gleam whenever you emerged from your shared bedroom, all prepped up and ready. He would always approach you with a soft smile escaping his lips. He would then kiss your forehead — the spot where he tirelessly kisses as a way of expressing love or saying his goodbyes is called a temple; he loves kissing your temple. He is yours to worship and yours to love. Loving someone is such a pure thing to do; love is like a religion he had discovered on his own. Jeongin seeing you in a room felt like a sanctuary.
Jeongin is always ready, never forgetting the promise he made to himself to love you in all seasons. When times get cold and everything is a mess, he drapes his coat on your shoulders and he becomes your warmth – his love a comforting shield against the chill of uncertainty. Amid the chaos, his gesture offers solace, reminding you that you are not alone, and together you can weather any storm. When it gets too warm, he becomes your cooling breeze – his love like an ocean breeze at dawn, offering comfort and relief with his presence and touch – his caring gesture soothing your fiery heart. When it gets dark and shivers run down your spine, he holds your hand and never lets go, whispering assurance: You’re not alone. I got you, I got you.
On days when you didn't anticipate any matching at all, he'd surprise you with a knowing smile, revealing his outfit cutely matched with yours. It became a playful language between you and Jeongin, sharing laughter and giggles. His eyes would light up with satisfaction, almost melting to the thought that love could be expressed through the woven fibers of one’s clothing, the feeling of being seen by someone and being loved anyhow – submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Don’t be afraid to be seen. Let me see you and love you regardless.
Tumblr media
taglist: @agi-ppangx @skzstarnet @straykidsland @bluethemoments
⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open
601 notes · View notes
merlucide · 7 days
Text
INSECURITIES THEY FIND ATTRACTIVE
Tumblr media
notes: lmao I was bored, NOT proofread so ik it’s kinda wonky lmao
wc: about 200 each
warnings: cursing
!! all of these “insecurities” are beautiful and unique! I’m just using some common insecurities, just bc they are listed doesn’t mean you should be insecure! You are perfect they way you are <3 !!
Tumblr media
SMALL BOOBS
He loves your boobs. They are just so cute! He doesn’t care about the size of them, beside’s smaller the chest, bigger the heart! He thinks they’re just the right size, he can perfectly hold them so that’s a plus! He’ll still take a nap on them, boobs are boobs, no matter the size.
NAGI, RIN, OTOYA, sendou, chigiri, ness, niko, reo
STRETCH MARKS
Pls he thinks it’s the most sexy thing ever. He’ll trace the lines up and down with his index finger, telling you how cool your marks are. It truly baffles him that you don’t like your stretch marks.  He thinks they make you look badass, like a lightning scar. 
SHIDOU, BACHIRA, OLIVER, KARASU, REO, yukimiya, barou
THICK THIGHS
The gravitational pull couldn’t keep him away from your thighs. His head nuzzled into the soft flesh, while his hands rub and squish them. After a long day, or really whenever he feels like it, he’ll plop his head down on your thighs and falls right asleep. 
ISAGI, RIN, NESS, reo, nagi, otoya, barou
Bunny/buck teeth
Omg he literally cannot function- he’ll just stare at your mouth while you talk with a big ol’ grin on. He just thinks it’s so cute! Or whenever you’re concentrating and your teeth poke out, he think his heart just might burst. If he ever catches you talking down about yourself he’ll just have to show you how much he loves them with a kiss.
BACHIRA, KURONA, NESS, YUKIMIYA, charles, 
PUDGE
Pls he literally thinks it the best. You’re just so soft and squishy! You’re his personal teddy bear! His favorite part of you is your tummy. The butterflies he gets from looking at is it is crazy. He loves resting his head on your tummy while your pet his head. He loves it when you were tighter clothing so he can see your cute little pudge. 
REO, SENDOU, SHIDOU, KURONA, bachira, nagi, barou, ness
BEING SKINNY
He thinks it’s so funny how loose his clothes fit on you. He thinks your body is so pretty and delicate. he likes hold slender hands and kiss them. He loves the feeling of holding your hands in his. He goes around smuggly telling people he’s dating a supermodel. It’s not good to lie buuut, you totally could be a model 🤭
CHIGIRI, KAISER, hiori, otoya, rin, sae, ness
THIN THIGHS
He thinks they are just the perfect! He thinks it’s cute how big his pants are on you, since his thighs are humongous. He likes to have you sit on the bed while he sits on the floor between your thighs. His cheek will be squished against you, as you combs through his hair. It’s one of his favorite things. 
ISAGI, CHIGIRI, OTOYA, SENDOU, kurona, hiori, karasu, ness, kaiser, sae 
MUSCLES
…he really wants to be dominated by you. Like manhandle, please, he is practically begging you. He thinks your muscles are so fucking hot. Seriously, he thinks it’s the sexiest thing about you, it makes him feel all sweaty and nervous watching you flex your muscles.
KARASU, HIORI, SHIDOU, NESS, reo, 
FRECKLES / BEAUTY MARKS
You cannot and will not stop him from kissing every mole you have. He thinks they make you unique, he loves connecting each birth mark to one another like constellations. He’ll give your “constellations” dumb names too and create a whole story for them. He loves kissing all of your freckles<3
OLIVER, KURONA, BACHIRA, NESS, SHIDOU, isagi, barou, karasu, (sae too but less cute cus yk, it’s sae)
Tumblr media
pls reblog/comment! Luv to hear what y’all think! And remember you are a sexy and gorgeous, don’t forget pooks<3
Made April 18th 2024
401 notes · View notes
sxmmer-cherry · 9 days
Text
❝AND AMIDST IT ALL; MY BEAUTY PREVAILS.❞
Tumblr media
𓍯 OVERTURE — it is said that aphrodite appears differently to all those who have the pleasure of bearing witness to her divine presence. and when such is the case, your lovers are a bit confused whether you are truly just as ordinary as them, or the goddess of beauty, aphrodite, herself? more simply, your lover and their small fixations when it comes to you.
𓍯 FEATURING — all genshin men + fatui harbingers
𓍯 AUTHOR'S NOTE — confession time for the genshin men!! no tw.
🦋—masterlist. —the author. —leave a note. —navigate.
Tumblr media
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO DIE TO SEE THE WAY YOUR EYES FLUTTER. who purposely tell you cool facts or surprising things they're sure you'll take a liking to or find bizarre and then wait patiently to see the way your eyebrows arch slightly and your eyes widen, your eyelashes fluttering in the moment. who love seeing you wear eye makeup and add their own small additions. who sometimes just sit next to you and stare at you, but by the time you turn, they're looking away.
— who just know you'll blush and start overthinking if you catch them staring and ruin the moment. who stay quiet to admire your beauty in peace. who are in love with your wandering gaze that seems to be so close yet distant. who love your sleepy and dreamy look— as though you're here yet somewhere far away. who like the intensity and depth of your eyes, who love the way they seem to take in everything and yet remain free of any external influence and maintain a serenity of their own.
AL HAITHAM, DILUC, TIGHNARI
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO ARE IN LOVE WITH YOUR CUPID'S BOW. who lean in randomly and stare at it up close, often getting blamed that they're teasing you when it is clear as day to them how unfair you're being with them with those tempting lips. who just run their thumb along its outline and peck it first before leaning in to kiss properly. who like the cherry shade of your lip gloss; who love it when you apply that cream on your lips before going to sleep that makes your lips so kissable in the morning.
— men who are completely incapable of understanding how you cannot perceive your silent beauty. who don't get it when you say you aren't that pretty. who would love to point out that pretty bow first of all things they love about you— who love it when you understand their hyper fixation but only end up laughing, and well, respecting their wishes silently and taking good care of your lips.
AYATO, LYNEY, WRIOTHESLEY, CAPITANO
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOUR FRECKLES ARE CONSTELLATIONS on the infinite expanse of the sky of your skin. who just stare at them sometimes and, with your permission, randomly connect dots to make silly constellations and give them sillier names— all in the name of making you laugh, but it is actually them who gets the better side of the deal; they get to look at your freckles up close! who feel a tiny bit disappointed when they lean in to kiss and you blush crazy and your freckles seem to blend in with the redness. who kiss you exactly there and call you an idiot when you try to hide them with makeup.
— men who tried painting you once, but instead of colouring your skin, filled in a cosmic array, and constellations in place of those freckles they love so much. who are genuinely in love with your small features and love it when you let them stare in silence. who like it when you let them run their finger across them. who love it when you're vulnerable and at peace with them.
ITTO, KAZUHA, XINGQIU
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOU HAVE GOLDEN HANDS. who sometimes just stare at them when you're typing or cooking or even turning a page and observe the fluidity in their movement. who love how your hands seem to know their way around everything— be it a brush, a pencil, a needle or even a ladle. who think of your talents and realize everything you are best at have your golden hands at play. who like holding your hand and applying moisturizer on it sometimes as they talk to you at late hours of the night. who feel your slightly visible veins, your long fingers and their smooth, quick movements.
— who love buying you adornments for your hands. who randomly bring you rings or bracelets. who like to put them on your hands themselves and love the way you smile afterwards. who love taking your comparatively small hands in their larger, warmer ones and just holding them in place. who still think about that one time you told them that the only time your hands are at rest is when they are holding it and now they hold them whenever they ask you to take a break.
ALBEDO, GOROU, THOMA, DOTTORE
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOU HAVE A VERY HARMONIOUS FACE. who sometimes just stare at you and think you're royalty— who look at your wide forehead— the mark of a scholar— your high cheekbones —a rarest yet regal feature— your sharp, arrow-like nose —which they admittedly, really love— and your oval face. who think your features coexist peacefully, but not just peacefully— in a very regal manner. blue blood, they sometimes call it, but they mean it only in the sense that your facial structure is rarely found.
— men who sometimes imagine you in heavy jewellery. who imagine you wearing a nose pin, then studs but then think that no, you'd look so much better in a heavier, longer earring. then add a pearl necklace in the mix and then imagine you in it and then blush so hard you're asking them if they are sick. funnily enough, just the imagination of it makes them so desperate they go to the jeweller's shop the very next day to have a custom designed piece they just imagined. who love it when you wear it and let them kiss you in it.
BAIZHU, NEUVILLETTE, ZHONGLI, PANTALONE
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO LOVE YOUR SHOULDERS. who love it when you wear those mini dresses and then put a coat over it. who love only being able to glance slightly at them and being made desperate to stare at them fully, without any obstructions. who also love being the only one being granted access to it. who love pressing kisses down your shoulder blade and then go up your neck again and then giggle throughout, their love apparent in their adoration.
— men who love it when you wear chokers and necklaces. who love blue sapphire and pearl on you. who like being made to feel special when you randomly wear them and then remind them that it's just for them. who kiss you then, and then say thank you. who buy you necklaces, the prettiest ones, and make you wear it and love the cute smile you pass them onwards. who like nuzzling their face in your nape and pressing down on it and making you blush despite being completely red themselves.
KAEYA, HEIZOU, VENTI
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THIRST FOR THE SIGHT OF YOUR ANKLES LIKE A DEPRAVED VICTORIAN MAN. who just stare at them when you're in the process of wearing your pants or switching cloths and then just stare at your ankles. who like your legs so much they randomly run their hands across them when they're next to you. who think you have very pretty legs and feet overall but don't know how to express that without being creepy.
— so they just message your legs after a long day! who take your favourite oils and apply them on your legs and talk to you. who end the session with a quick peck on your thigh and make you blush. who just buy you anklets from time to time and make you sit down and stretch your leg out for them. who very gently put it on your feet. who admire it for a while and when they look up, find you blushing. who take care of you and express their adoration at last— only to find they were being so obvious you thought it was just an unaddressed fact.
— men who take extra care not to be that obvious from next time but can't help it when it comes to you anyways.
AETHER, KAVEH, CHILDE
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO ADORE YOUR HAIR. who think they're like a unicorn's mane or a lion's even— regal and beautiful. who like seeing you adopt new hairstyles or dyeing it in new colours. who love it when you randomly style them with feathers or flowers and smile at you fondly. who really want you to be pretty and confident and search up the best tips for good hair care and keep them at their disposal should you ever ask them. who braid your hair when sitting idle, who hate it when you're cutting your hair and can't bear to look at the fallen soldiers.
— men who always compliment you for it. men who love it even more when you smile and silently accept it with a grateful kiss. whose hearts combusted with joy when they saw you sitting in the veranda, with their mother— the two people they love most— and getting your hair oiled and braided as you talked to her about your day. who buy you pretty scrunchies and leave them on your dressing table. who do more than half of the morning duties, despite your protests, so that you can do some hair care for the day.
CYNO, XIAO, WANDERER
Tumblr media
346 notes · View notes
thegaysinmyhead · 3 months
Text
PROLOGUE
Guys—I never ever ever write Yandere Fics but?? Dead on Main Mutual Yandere??? Ghost Obsessions or Ghost Biology taken to an extreme, leading to bloody and ectoplasmic messes??? DAMN
(Legit wrote this in 15 minutes on my phone lmao)
Jason smirked underneath his mask, a feral grin of all teeth as he dug his nails into the body underneath him. These white suited fucks had been crawling through Gotham for weeks and the Pit snarled everytime he caught sight of one in his territory. It had been months since he had gone into a green-tinted rage, but every time he saw one of the walking stain collectors he had to fight one down. The Pit snarled deep in his chest and begged for violence, begged to turn the eggshell colored tuxedos into a mess of carnage, everytime he came close to the 'agents'.
There was an ache in his gums and a burning underneath his nails, he dug them deeper into the light colored flesh. Blood pooled under the abuse, were his nails supposed to be that sharp?
Jason got tired of watching these guys shuffle through Crime Alley like they owned the streets he cleaned, and the people under his protection were constantly complaining about them too. He was just supposed to come in to question them, threaten them so they learned the rules, he didn't expect the RAGE-RAGE-RAGE that overtook him as soon as he was in range of the eyesores.
It was...different than his usual pit-induced madness. There was a purpose tickling in the back of his brain—a garbled voice he recognized but didn't that was screaming at him.
RAGE-PROTECT-KING
King?
Jason snarled before putting the rest of his strength into his grip, there was an audible snap underneath his palm. The last agent's body fell limp in his grasp.
KING-PROTECT-SAVE
The thing in his chest howled at him as it forced his legs to move, instinct carrying him as he put bullets (real ones, why did he have real ones? He barely used those anymore) into whatever fashion-freak tried to stop him with their Lazarus green guns. Their aim was shit, his was better.
KING-HERE-PROTECT
There was a paines scream on the other side of the wall that had Jason snapping back into awareness, and with strength he didn't know he had he ripped a thick metal door with his bare hands and threw it to the side. The Pit settled in his chest, a grumbling anxious thing instead of the all consuming it was moments ago. Jason absent-mindedly rubbed his hand where he felt the warmth of the green that stayed with him before he stepped into a sparsely lit room.
Glowing green Lazarus water and blood was spewed and mixed across the walls, a chaotic clash of neon and maroon that stunk of copper and acid. There was a figure wailing in the middle of the room as more green leaked from an open wound on its chest. No, not just an open wound, a vivisection. His vision tinted harshly once more as he slowly made his way to the restrained figure.
A man, most likely the same age or younger than him, with snow white hair, tanned skin that looked almost blue-tinted, glowing freckles in the shape of constellations, and green-green-green unseeing eyes as they spilled cold tears. Jason gently wiped the tears away as if pulled by instinct, and cooed softly with and audible echo in his chest. The Pit had never felt like this, not even in his most justified rages. It had never felt this soft either.
The man cried harder as he tilted his cheek further into Jason's bloody fingerless gloves, a pitiful whine escaping his throat as he begged without words. Jason doesn't know why it was so important for him to get this man his king out and to safety, to care for him, but he knew denying that instinct would only hurt him in the future. There was a warmth building under his fingertips before he pulled them slowly away from the freckled skin, the man gasping and blinking rapidly trying to find him again.
scared-help-afraid
There was a rumble deep in Jason's chest as if the soothe the man, and it seemed to work. The strained shoulders relaxed slightly and allowed Jason to move his (clawed?) fingers to the thick iron cuffs with strange electricity running through them. With a clenched jaw, he ripped the metal in half for each restraint, barely holding back the green before pulling needle and thread from somewhere in the room. The man didn't react to being stitched up, but whimpered when Jason's hands left his chest. A green and purple bruised hand shot out to bring his palm back, and Jason murmured softly while interlacing their fingers.
RAGE-PROTECT-HELP
grateful-safe-help?
HELP-RAGE-PROTECT
The being slumped into his arms as Jason pulled him close—the blue-tinted man weighed less than a bag of chips.
They deserved to suffer for the horrific acts they committed to his king the man in his arms. The Pit and him agreed on that.
With a gruff, Jason adjusted to pull off his jacket and cover the weeping wound of the man. He pulled him into a bridal-style carry before making his way out of the horror room, stepping over freshly dead and dying bodies. There was more blood in the previously white hallways than there was in the room he came from, and he wasn't gentle about stepping over still-alive scientists and agents. He ended up crushing skulls under his steel toed boots when the Pit snarled for their blood, but the rest wound bleed out and die slowly.
.
.
.
Masterpost, Pt 1
647 notes · View notes
stealingyourbones · 2 months
Text
Submitted Prompts #160
I was listening to that song "Space is Cool" that a fan made with Markiplier videos (what can I say, the music is really good).
And it reminded me of Danny, who's also so very in love with space.
And now I'm getting a clear mental picture of Danny full-on GUSHING about Space, in a sort of Outside POV thing.
Like, a Danny who's going to Uni in somewhere like Gotham or Star City, and got into the Astronomy club. And their "recruitment video" is just the cute freshman who adores space and will take any chance he gets to gush about it.
There's a lot of shots zoomed in on his pupils doing the cat thing of going from slits to big pools of black (like a black hole at the center of a galaxy) and his freckles start glowing in constellation patterns.
They go on an outing to the nearest Observatory, make it a sleepover thing, and sleepy Danny stretches and howls like a star, flops onto the nearest classmate and Club Member, and starts purring whenever they pet him.
He may be a meta, but they'll be damned if anyone blabbers to Batman about it.
Cue one Conner Kent coming to Gotham to tour their University, to pick where he wants to go when it's his turn next year, and find himself sitting next to Danny when he goes off on a rant about some deep space scans that caught images of Krypton before the explosion.
When asked about his opinion on the Supers, Danny, who's gotten so used to casual affections being directed towards him in the form of head scratches and hugs (they make Danny purr and light up in all kinds of patterns, so the club members do it as often as they can), pats him on the head and quietly praises Superboy for all the important work he does, and how his cloned little sister has always seen him as a mark that being a clone means nothing in the grand scheme of things, and it's who you are that counts.
Conner goes back to his parents in happy tears and with an invitation to attend Gotham U if he so chooses.
446 notes · View notes
atypicalamortentia · 3 months
Text
You Invite Them Back To Your Dorm
Tumblr media
Synopsis - The boys reactions to you inviting them back to your dorm room.
Warnings - Slightly suggestive.
Notes - Characters aged up to 18+!
Word Count - 0.7k.
{Caffeinate Me}
Tumblr media
You’re in the middle of a heated make-out session in the restricted section of the library with SEBASTIAN SALLOW when you ask him. He pulls away from your lips for a moment to breathe when you finally ask “do you want to come back to my dorm room?” Immediately, Sebastian nods his head. His fingers lace with yours and the next thing you know, you’re being dragged back to your dorm room. Sebastian pushes you into your dorm room without a care in the world, throwing you on to your bed before attaching his lips to your neck. It’s needless to say, it doesn’t take long before your clothes are scattered around the place and the brown-haired, freckled male is thrusting inside of you haphazardly.
Tumblr media
You and OMINIS GAUNT are in the Undercroft practising some spells when you ask him. Ominis looks in your general direction, almost as if asking you to repeat your question again. “Ominis? Do you want to come or not?” Ominis nods his head and smiles lazily at you as you grab his hand and lead him out of the Undercroft. You lead him to your common room before pulling him in, mindlessly saying hello to all your friends. You and Ominis sit on your bed cuddling and just talk for hours, maybe you guys make-out a little bit, but Ominis feels uncomfortable taking it any further with your friends just outside the door. 
Tumblr media
You’re helping GARRETH WEASLEY with one of his potion concoctions. You’re admiring him when the words just slip out of your lips. He looks at you, slightly stunned for a moment before grinning widely. “I’d love to accompany you back to your dorm room.” You help him finish cleaning up the mess he, of course, made before grabbing his cloak and pulling him to your dorm. When you reach your room, you pull the Weasley inside and close the door quietly behind the two of you before sitting on your bed and dangling your legs off the edge. “So,” Garreth asks with a cheeky grin. “What are we doing here?” You grin back at him and grasp the collars of his shirt, pulling him down on top of you and smashing your lips against his. The two of you stay like that for a long time, kissing and touching each other until eventually one of you pushes the other too far. 
Tumblr media
You and LEANDER PREWETT are standing in the hallways just talking when you invite him back to your dorm room. The two of you had been shamelessly flirting with each other for weeks and you were tired of waiting for him to make the first move, so you put yourself out there. “You mean… You wanna go to your room… With me?” He asks, slightly taken back by your question. You nod and smile at him, holding out your hand for him to take should he agree. Of course he did, grabbing your hand gently and waiting for you to take him back to your room. The second you enter your dorm, you’re pushing the ginger onto your bed and kissing him passionately, taking him by surprise yet again. He couldn’t help but let out a soft moan into the kiss and allow his hands to trail your body. It’s safe to say he finally has the confidence to claim you as his after this. 
Tumblr media
You are drinking firewhisky with AMIT THAKKAR when you drunkenly invite him back to your dorm room. You’re out on the astronomy tower looking at the constellations when you blurt it out. Amit raises a quizzical eyebrow at you, watching as you slur over your words. Being the gentleman Amit is, he accepts your invitation and picks you up bridal style to carry you back to your dorm, knowing full well you’d be falling all over the place if he let you walk on your own. He places you gently into your bed when you try to initiate something, letting your hands roam over his body as you place delicate kisses on his neck. “Not tonight sweetheart,” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “For now you need some sleep. Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you wake up in the morning.” You let out a grumble but nod, closing your eyes and falling asleep. True to his word, Amit was there when you woke up in the morning, ready to help you take care of your raging firewhisky hangover.  
494 notes · View notes