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sometimesliterate · 1 day

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church — chase atlantic

' i'm about to take you back to church well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst ? baptize in your thighs 'til it hurts cuz i'm about to take you back to church '

requested

you were sunday's favorite. as pure as a lamb, his perfect little toy that he could do whatever he wanted with, even though he wouldn't tell you to your face. no, his actions said all that he needed to say, there was no need to speak his favoritism openly when you accepted him so easily.

you, his darling favorite, were on your knees, looking up at him from where he stood behind his pulpit, your head bowed to him in reverence, one hand curled over the other closed fist in a prayer. " forgive me, father, for i have sinned. " the words flowed effortlessly from your mouth, and he almost found himself unable to keep a calm look on his face, content with your piety.

with your head bowed, all you could hear were his footsteps as you prayed for his forgiveness. fingers hooked underneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. sunday loved this view of you on your knees in front of him, your eyes begging for a forgiveness that he was so willing to give, for a price.

" tell me of your sins, " his voice was as smooth as butter, his hand never leaving your chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes as you confessed. and of course you would, who were you to ever disobey a direct order from sunday ?

" i have.. been touching myself, father, " you admitted, and he swore he could see you melt underneath his piercing gaze. " i know it's wrong, so every time i.. get close, i stop. i know it's not right to orgasm with such sinful intentions, but i.. father, the need.. these sinful urges are taking over my body, my mind. everything. i can't stop thinking about being touched by another. "

sunday is a man who's mind always precedes before his bodily needs. but with you looking up at him, begging him to do something to help you with your urges, even he couldn't turn a blind eye to his favorite believer in need, now could he ?

" this is quite unbecoming of you. i can't even begin to describe my disappointment in you, " although his voice was gentle, his words were biting, reminding you of your place beneath his elegance and divinity. he had the ability to be kind, but he could also ruin you. you could bend to his will, or you could break. he didn't care either way, as long as he had you right where he wanted you.

" i'm sor- "

" i'm afraid apologizing isn't going to make up for your actions. you know as well as i do that acting on such carnal desires are nothing short of blasphemy, " his lips curled into a smirk as he guided your head closer to him, your body leaning in subtly to his, until you were just inches away from him, and his legs were on either side of your body.

" how can i trust you not to act on these desires again ? one should, no, one must ensure that you never act senselessly again. be not afraid, i will take care of your desires. your reverence has never faltered, my precious devotee. i would not be in this position above you if i could not qualm your running thoughts, your aching body. "

" father, please, " you pleaded, the words falling off of your lips like you were about to cry, your bottom lip pouting just a little bit. " i cannot continue to live like this with these thoughts. i need you, father. " you were in the corner of his cage, caught up in his web of desires, but even if the door were open, you would stay.

" then worship me, " sunday commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments. you only nodded, breathless, as your eyes so lewdly flickered down to his crotch just inches away from your face, his free hand unzipping his silver pants, the sound of the teeth of his pants coming undone enough to make your head spin. you hadn't realized that his hand on your chin had loosened, allowing you to look at him as he freed himself from his pants.

he wouldn't take his clothing off completely, that was entirely off of the table. even when committing such baseless desires. no, he was teaching you how to properly worship a man like him. your god. his hands were clean of sin, it was yours that needed his grace. what was the most efficient way of giving you the body of god himself ?

you didn't need to be told twice to worship him, something that sunday admired from you, always so obedient in everything that he said. you took his cock into your mouth, letting the fat tip of it rest on your flat tongue for a moment as you looked up at him, swearing the sun was in your eyes the way his bright golden eyes were looking down at you, scrutinizing your every move.

sunday didn't move, needing you to prove that you could do such a simple task without his assistance, and a god does not chase after his people, and you did not disappoint. your pretty lips wrapped around his cock so perfectly, your head bobbing up and down as you sucked, eliciting small groans of pleasure from him. drool slipped through your lips and onto your cute little white church dress, dampening the fabric.

your eyebrows were creased together as you worked your warm mouth along his shaft, your focus evident. although he was the one being pleasured, you looked like you were in ecstasy, losing yourself in his pleasure, cock drunk and only thinking about the way his precum tasted in your mouth, like holy water.

" what a perfect little lamb, " sunday purred, his chest rising and falling quickly, his bottom lip in between his teeth. you looked up at him the moment he spoke, your eyes cloudy with desire, but still determined to listen to his every word, hanging off of them as if they were your commandments. " purifying you from within, yes, this is the ideal. my innocent, pure acolyte. your defiling of your own body was sacrilegious, but don't worry. i'll save you. "

sunday was sure controlling you was his claim, his birthright. he could give and take away from you freely as he wished, and you were to give him your everything. and in turn for your everything, of course he could give you his blessings, in the form of exactly what you craved from him. as your mouth worked up and down his cock, the lewd sounds filling up the otherwise silent church, echoing within these holy walls, he felt the pressure threatening to burst out at any moment.

his hand grabbed your hair a little tighter than he expected to, quickly pulling you off of his cock. you hesitated for a moment, the suddenness of his actions catching you off guard, momentarily breaking the spell he had you under, your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked up to him. his free hand gripped his own cock, stroking the length with rhythmic strokes.

" did you think that i would be so generous ? " he asked, his voice holding a hint of condescension. " beg for it. beg for my blessing. beg for your god. "

" fa- g-god- " you stuttered out, his hand in your hair holding your head at the right angle so you could look up at him with your big, doey eyes. you weren't even looking at his ministrations in front of you, solely focused on his face, his radiance. " please- please, i need your blessing, god. i need you to bless this sinful body of mine with your holiness, " the words fell from your lips like a prayer, a mantra that he'd have you repeat over and over again. " my god, please. "

sunday felt his need come to a fever pitch at your prayers, and he threw his head back, moans slipping out as his orgasm exploded outside of him, coating you in his essence. thick ropes of cum splattered onto your face and chest, covering your hair and your forehead like the crown of thorns. his hand dropped his cock, letting it rest on your face, covering one of your eyes as his tip leaked cum into your hair even more as he caught his breath subtly.

" such devotion, your baptism has cleared you partly from your sins. " he murmured, finally releasing your hair, his eyes on how lewd you looked covered in his cum, his cock resting on your face as if that was all you were good for. but his price had been paid, and now he was ready to grant you his forgiveness. " go, sit in the pew. spread your legs for me, and i'll take care of the sins plaguing the inside of your body, too, where the baptism has not yet reached. don't worry, i will make sure your body is completely free of sin, inside and outside, my little dove. "

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai sr #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #sunday #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #sunday x reader smut #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #smut drabble #hsr smut #sunday smut #star rail sunday

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papercorgiworld · 1 day

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It was no mistake

A James Potter smut.

When you tell James last night was a mistake he's determined to prove you wrong.

This is part two of ‘I dare you to steal his clothes - James Potter version’. Read the first part here, not that this is very plot driven but still.

Warning: smut, minimal plot

— The request —

The James fic was so hot wtf 👹👹👹 we need part 2 dear author 😭😭😭

— The writing —

You walked through the hallways of Hogwarts but your mind was still stuck in that bathroom where you had yesterday tried and more or less succeeded in stealing James Potter’s clothes. He had given you a night to remember and as dreamy as you still were about those activities, you were also very much aware that it was James Potter. He was your crush, but to him you were probably nothing more than a fun night. It was not like he was suddenly going to fall in love with you after one night of heavenly sex.

“Moony, you’re not hearing me. She’s the one.” Remus rolled his eyes as James almost jumped up and down next to him, ever since last night’s events James had been going on about you non stop. Sirius and Peter had weaselled their way away from James and had left Remus to listen to James’ rants alone. Remus rearranged some books on the shelves of the library, because nothing’s more annoying than misplaced books. “I need your advice, moony, I’ve been crushing on her since the start of the year and after last night I need to make a move or I might lose her to the next guy she’s being dared to steal clothes from.” Remus turns away from the shelves to face James. “I honestly don’t think that she would repeat last night's events with anyone beside you.” Feeling reassured and a bit more confident, James’ signature smirk returns. “You think so? You think I’m special to her?” Remus sighs and rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she likes you. I mean no one sleeps with someone you hate.” James’ eyebrows knit together. “You obviously haven’t had heated hate sex.” Remus shakes his head no. “You?” James also shakes no. “No, I’m just thinking it would be hot… not as hot as last night, I mean, (y/n) and me-” “I don’t want to hear it again, James!” Remus interrupts and quickly continues. “Just go talk to her, use all your charm and you will win her over.”

You were still deep in thoughts, when James leaves the library and spots you. “Hey, hey, (y/n)! We need to talk.” Your eyes fling up to meet his and James is almost horrified to see how filled with panic your eyes are. You quickly scan the hallways for a way out, but fail to find a good excuse. James quickens his pace to keep up with you. “About last night…” James starts, nervously ruffling his hair, but before he has a chance to continue you speak up. “It was a mistake.” James’ face falls, but you don’t notice and continue. “I get it. I’m cool about it. Last night was just a thing and it won't happen again.” James nods as he listens to you, watching your serious expression and sinking his hands into his pockets. You suddenly stop walking and turn to him. You force a tightlipped smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You hold out a hand to James. “Friends?” You ask with a shaky voice and flustered face. For a second James looks utterly confused, but he quickly realises that your flusteredness might have something to do with how you had screamed his name last night. James tilts his head and chews his lip, eyes focussing on yours. “What if I say no?” Your face instantly heats up. Why can’t he just be casual about it. Why does he have to be so James Potter about it!

“I got the sense that you liked what I did last night.” Your face was hitting tomato alert, but he just shamelessly continued. “Honestly, I enjoyed it as well. You felt amazing.” He whispers, while his eyes dart between you and everyone in the hallway to make sure no one overhears. “James-” Your protest comes out as a shaky whisper as your body craves James in an unholy way. “Come on, love one more time and then you can decide whether I��m worth keeping around or if you really just want to be friends.” Your expression goes blank as you process what James had just said. Did the James Potter just suggest that if you wanted he would be yours? Afraid that you weren’t fully convinced, James makes one last move, leaning closer to you with his lips almost brushing your ear. “You can have whatever you want, baby… my dick, fingers, tongue, I’ll give you anything you want.” His voice was husky and dirty, but there was also an almost inaudible nervousness as he worried whether you would accept his offer or just forget about him.

A silent yes in your eyes had told James that he could guide you to a nearby empty classroom. As soon as he closed the door behind you he wrapped an arm around your figure, pulling you against him. His eyes focus on yours as his free hand cups your cheek. “I know it’s only been a few hours, but fuck I missed you.” You smile and James is wild with excitement that he got you close to him again. Eagerly his lips search yours and you immediately move with his, making the kiss go from passionate to hunger. He picks you up and you can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. He places you on a nearby desk and he’s quick to take off his own shirt, giving you a worthy view. Your hand wanders over his chest and muscles. There was a reason Gryffindor won almost every game. This boy worked for it.

As amused and turned on as James was by your staring he really wanted your focus on kissing him. With a gentle finger he pushed your chin up to look at him so he could kiss you tenderly and deeply. It also gave him the opportunity to quickly undo a few buttons so he could pull your shirt over your head. With your hair now slightly messed up you looked even more desirable to him. Eagerly his lips move over yours again while his hands move to gently squeeze your breasts before unclasping your bra in one swift move. James struggles to keep his lips on you as his eyes desperately search for a glimpse of your chest. With a loving touch his hands massage the flesh of your boobs. A slightly suppressed moan reveals James’ excitement together with the growing bulge in his pants pressing against your panties. Pushing you back on the desk James now moves away from your lips to allow himself to play with your nipples, earning soft sounds from you as sensations build up, soaking your panties as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

Unable to keep himself in check James rocks his hips into yours, searching for fiction. You quickly slip a hand in his pants, making him groan as you tease his member. One hand pumps his dick while your other hand moves through his curls. Under your touch James only manages to leave sloppy kisses as precum stains his pants. He curses himself under his breath. This was not how he planned it on going, he needed to spoil you and not the other way around. So rather abruptly and roughly James grabs your hand and takes a step back so he can take off your skirt and panties. You open your mouth to ask whether you did anything wrong, but James doesn’t let you and kisses you roughly while moving a finger through your folds, making you squirm against him at the sudden touch. “Last night was not a mistake.” James breathes with a rough undertone as he watches your eyes fill with pleasure at his touch. Your slightly parted lips looked so delicious to you, but he wanted to hear you so instead he peppers kisses down your neck, while his fingers fuck you.

Your fingers entangle with his hair as pleasure rushes through you. You whimper his name as he pushes you closer to your high, making him work harder to get you there. He watches you with focus to pinpoint the exact second before you’ll cum so he can pull his fingers away from you, making you whine in need of him and a climax. Your needy eyes turn him on so much he has to grab his crotch for a second. “Trust me, love.” James whispers and pushes your legs wider with one move, making you yelp at the exposure and heave your chest. The view you were giving him, exposed and flustered had him struggling to not just fuck you right then and there but he was committed to make you his and have you every night from now on. With his eyes glued to yours he slowly kisses down from your lips to your pussy to finish the building orgasm he had kept from you only seconds earlier.

Your body tenses and your fingers cling to James’ curls as your wall clench. James can’t resist jerking himself as you gently and unknowingly push his face against your pussy, reaching your high. It takes a second before you have the strength to push the strong man between your legs away from your overstimulated cunt. As soon as you see his pleased smirk you know he isn’t done with you. You raise your hand to protest, but he just grabs your wrist, pulling you off the desk to turn you around. He presses you against him, your naked body against his bare chest. He still holds on to your wrist as his other hand slips between your legs again. “James.” You whine and he shushes you. “You still think last night was a mistake?” He teases you, placing kisses under your ear. He rubs his hard bulge against your bare ass and your sensitive pussy starts throbbing at just the thought of his thick member filling you like last night. “No, it wasn’t a mistake.” You breathe and James kisses your neck tenderly, before bending you over the desk and freeing his member from his pants.

Gently he slips inside you, holding you close as he fucks you passionately, like you were the only woman that mattered, a goddess to him, and only him for the rest of his life from now on.

Word count: 1720

#the marauders era #marauders era #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter #james potter smut #papercorgiworldwritings

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annwe24 · 1 day

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Part 1!DEVOTION

Part 2

CREATOR!LUCIFER X READER

Summary: You feel trapped in the luxurious cage that Lucifer created.

Reading in dim light isn't really a good idea. Your eyes feel itchy and letters are running all across the page. Huffing in annoyance, you unwillingly close the book to go to sleep. Tonight is not just it, perhaps the lack of sleep has finally caught up to you. Your pillow feels a bit rocky as the book is carefully tucked under. That night, your dreams are made of angels joyfully singing their symphony, unaware of the angelic eyes watching your sleeping form.

Morning comes by as usual. You are woken up by the sweet smell of hot pancakes and the sight of a pair of neatly folded clothes thrown onto your bed. Lucifer has always insisted that you let him take care of almost everything around the house. You obviously don't agree. However, morning is something you would gladly give in. A big reason being his signature pancakes and the other being you don't have to wake up too early. Hastily put on the clothes he has put together for you, you rush to the kitchen, wanting to have breakfast as soon as possible.

Good morning! Did you sleep well? Lucifer cheerfully greets you with a toothy grin.

Very well! Are you going to be in the workshop today?

I’m afraid not, my dear. You see, Charlie insisted that we must make plans for the upcoming extermination.

Can I come too?

Your question makes Lucifer halts his cooking. You have expected this. He is always reluctant about you doing anything Heaven related, trying to steer your gaze elsewhere as if Heaven is the forbidden fruit of Hell. At least, that’s what it is in his eyes.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. You know what it is.

But don't you think it's time I-

Anne. We’ve talked about this.

Okay…

Lowering your head, you patiently wait for the food. You know better than to make any moves with that hint in his voice. It is one of his turnoffs that you come to notice during decades of living with him; even Charlie, his daughter, wouldn't have caught it on the spot like you. Lucifer once said: No one has known me quite like you.

…

I had a really shitty day.

Lucifer says as he slumps his head onto your shoulder. Pulling the blanket closer to the both of you, you let out an acknowledged hum:

Mind telling me what went wrong?

That fuck head radio demon. Do you know him? I think his name is Alastair? Nevermind that. Nothing important. His jackass thinks he can just simply swoon over Charlie and convince her I’m replaceable. Ugh can't fucking believe that.

You don't… normally swear. I guess that demon is pretty rough huh?

Lucifer lets out a huff and turns up the volume of the TV:

Yeah…

Tonight is just one of those movie nights: Lucifer talks over the movie about anything to you. Today is just one of those days. Every day is the same. You are a being yet incomplete as a being. You realize you are barely alive. He chooses your clothes. He cooks your food. He soothes your pain. He is everything. Slowly, everything around you doesn't make any sense. The noise coming from the tv becomes static and Lucifer’s voice seems so distant. Why are you even created? Is your sole existence destined to be some sort of amusement for the King? And why is he so avoidant about Heaven? Are you the problem?

Y/n. Y/n!

You immediately snap out of your messy thoughts. Something about Lucifer always manages to pull you right back. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he asked with a worried voice:

Did something happen?

You quickly turn your head to look at him. Your eyes filled with panic:

Oh! I think I’m just sleepy. Yeah… That's all.

Still, you know better than anything that is not enough. Nothing is enough for him, especially if it’s something from you. He lets out a pitiful smile and quietly turns off both the tv and the light, steps out of the bed. Before heading out, he doesn't forget to say his usual goodnight to you. How ironic. You think. He knows you are not going to have a good night. However, you greatly appreciate the personal space he gives you. You give in to exhaustion and slump back to the bed. Like a habit, you reach out to take your book under the pillow. Last night, you left at the most interesting part-the dawn of humanity. Excitement fills you to the brim just thinking about-

There is no book.

Refusing to believe the loss, you throw the pillow out of your sight, only to be greeted with disappointment. Many scenarios play out inside your little head. There is no doubt this is the work of Lucifer. He must have known from the beginning and let you slip through for a while. You can't bear to imagine the things he would do if he losed control. Self-control is one of his greatest strengths. Although, you are not so sure about that right now. After evaluating everything, you decide that it is best to sleep right now and deal with the problem in the morning. That night, your dreams are made of demons gawking and gnawing at your frail form, unaware of the angelic eyes watching your sleeping form. Every day is not the same anymore.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer imagine #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer angst #hazbin fanfic #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin imagine #fanfic #fanfiction

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lailawinchesterr · 2 days

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Silence in the city

summary: you’re going through a rough patch with your boyfriend Sam, and Dean is there to help you. Can you forgive Sam? Does your relationship with Dean evolve?

guys first time writing anything remotely sexual please don’t make me kms tysm! tw: not that explicit but kinda + rape but not described at all (by soulless Sam)

We’re on the couch with one of Dean’s ‘underrated’ movies playing. He already left with a quiet ‘goodnight’ a few minutes ago so when I look over at Sam to see him already watching me, I’m not surprised. And then I lean in, claiming his lips on mine and he doesn’t seem to mind so I do it harder, pulling him closer, and he leans down a little more so he doesn’t strain his neck then he pulls away and I whine at the loss of contact.

“You sure?” Sam asks and I smile at him, nodding. He’s sweet like that. We’ve waited at least two years but he still doesn’t mind waiting more. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, we don’t have to rush.”

“Maybe we don’t have to go all the way today, just a little. Just… kiss me, Sam.” He does and I reciprocate desperately. We didn’t talk much about safe words but before he lost his soul our main ones were ‘red’ and ‘green’, so we both assume it’s the same ones now.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans when I flip us over so I’m on his lap now. I move against him, pushing our bodies closer (if that’s possible), but still through our clothes. I don’t know how much I want to let Sam see today but I don’t reckon it’s a lot, so this will have to do.

His hands instinctively find my hips but I quickly push them off, holding them down onto the couch and moving a little faster, rougher, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. “Sammy…”

“Baby, can I kiss you?” I take a second to process his words before quickly picking my head up and leaning in, he connects our lips and his tongue slides over my bottom one, licking and waiting for an invitation. I grant it to him, removing my hands from their grip on his wrists so I can ground myself on his shoulders.

Fuck. We haven’t even touched each other in so long it’s embarrassing how fast I’m going to come. Sam pulls away for a second to speak, “Hey, fuck, you need to slow down, sweetheart, won’t last like this.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.” I let out a laugh but I don’t think he finds it as funny because his hands try to find my hips again but I quickly hold them in place on my thigh. “Okay, yeah.” I slow down my rhythm to basically nothing but we’re both still breathing heavily and into the other’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks out of nowhere and I frown, still grinding on him softly, still panting, still out of breath and shaking and wet, “Talk to me.”

“What— shit— what do you mean?”

“Your hands. Are you scared? Sweetheart, Stop for a second.” I want to stop to listen to this riveting conversation about how much of a coward I am but I couldn’t even if he begged me to because I am just so so so close.

“Hey!” His hands fly to my waist and I freeze immediately, slapping both hands away with much more force this time.

“Stop it, Sam! Don’t touch my waist again, please.” My voice is all but inviting for any type of negotiation and he doesn’t looks like he wants to anyways, putting both of them up in defeat but staring right into my eyes

“What’s wrong? Why?”

“‘Cause…” I say as if that’s all the reason in the world and try to get off of him but he quickly shakes his head, evidently struggling to keep his hands to himself. I stay planted on his half-hard on.

“Can you just… can you not run away from this? Can we talk about it instead of forcing it?”

“No, I don’t want to.” And I do get off of him this time, leaning back into the couch. Now I’m wet and angry. Great, that’s just awesome.

“If you spent half as much time talking to me as you do avoiding it—”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t the one who was raped by your own fucking boyfriend so I hardly see how you’re an expert on the matter.” I can already feel the shocked expression and disappointment and hurt coming from him so I don’t bother looking, instead I stand up and walk to my room.

While walking back to my room I stopped by the kitchen to get some pills for the headache I know I’m going to get later and maybe some sleeping pills too.

Then I see Dean. Dean Winchester who we all thought was dead asleep in his bed was actually eating cherry pie in the kitchen a few feet from me and Sam’s fucking and fighting.

“Dean? What’re you doing up?”

“I didn’t go to sleep. Y’all just looked like you wanted to be alone so I bailed.” I nod and walk over to the fridge. I’m not certain about what I’m looking for but I’ll know it when I find it. “By the way,” I hear from behind me, barely, and i just hum in acknowledgment as I scour and— yes! Cereal! I take the milk out and go to the cupboards for the cereal.

Dean clears his throat, his mouth no longer full, “By the way, if you ever wanna talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”

I, honest to God, can’t think of one time in my entire life where Dean has said that to me and I’ve known the man for the better part of a decade.

“Sure…” My words aren’t sure but I hope he doesn’t pick up on that because I don’t mean to offend him, we just haven’t always been friends.

The first time I met Sam and Dean was on a hunt and neither of them trusted or liked me for the entirety of it. The fifth hunt we accidentally met on was when they finally let their guard down (to some extent) to see I was just an average hunter like they are. Though I hold nothing to the infamous Winchesters.

Even then, Dean was never my best friend. We never even spoke alone, mostly just when Sam was around. And even when I got with Sam a couple of months later, Dean had his doubts (which he made crystal clear) and kept a wall up ever so slightly. Only when I was ten months into dating Sam did Dean strike conversations when we were alone. We went on some hunts together without my boyfriend and we even texted sometimes. I think that was the biggest step to take with grandpa because man, does he hate to text.

There’s an exasperated breath then, “I’m serious.”

“Okay.” I nod once and assemble my bowl of lucky charms. Dean is a sweetheart, honestly, and attractive as hell, sure, but he’s also emotionally unavailable and extremely traumatized. Both of those qualities are ones I already handle with his brother, I don’t need a second Winchester to do take care of.

“I just mean that if you ever want to tell me anything about how you and Sam are doing—” Ah, there it is. The blatant need to protect Sam from everyone and everything. Not limited to those who love him, of course, because who could really ever love Sam more than his older brother?

“Sam’s fine, Dean.”

“I don’t mean just him. What about you? Are you fine?”

“Yes— why are you doing this? Why are you asking about me?”

When I look up from the counter Dean’s no longer eating, just staring at me, as if willing me to make eye contact. “‘Cause, you’re family, you know that, right?”

Family? Since when am I family? The most ‘family’ I’ve been to him is due to the fact that Sam fucks me occasionally and that I sleep in one of the many bedrooms in this shit hole. “Okay… thanks.”

“Fuck,” He rubs a hand over his mouth then gets up, walking over to me. He’s much closer now that I anticipated and I’m hardly doing anything to cover my hardened nipples or my too-low sweatpants that clearly show off my belly button piercing and white underwear straps.

“I can’t have you doubting that. I know I ain’t the best at this whole thing but you’ve always been family, ever since you helped with Cas—” that’s the second hunt we went on, “and then Charlie—” third hunt, “then you got with Sam and maybe I haven’t showed it but we do care about you. I care about you. I don’t just wanna know if Sammy’s okay, wanna know if you are too.”

I take a deep breath that maybe almost chokes me, “Yeah,” I don’t wanna cry in front of Dean. He’d just make fun of me, but I have so much to cry about it and I don’t know if I can hold it. “Yeah, Dean, I know.” Please God, don’t let my voice break. “I’m good, I’m okay. Thanks. I’m going— yeah, my room. I’m— okay, yeah, g’night.”

And I’ve never run out of a room so fast.

gonna post a part two later, not sure where I’m going with it though but this idea just popped into my head cause I love those two codependent freaks sm.

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aziraphales-library · 24 hours

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Hello,

Thank you for what you’re doing! It’s so great! Because of you I’ve found some of my favourite fics.

I wanted to ask of you maybe know some shorter ones (around 10 or 20k words) with Aziraphale and Crowley over the centuries falling on love. Maybe some jealous crowley fics as well. Thank you in advance :)

Hi. We have #through the ages and #jealous crowley tags. Here are some 10-20k through the ages fics...

this life we’ve created by rainbowumbrella (T)

“No,” Crawley finally said, after what felt like an eternity. It was long enough for the water to rise about half an inch. “I got you into this, angel, we’ll see it through together. Besides, who knows how long this is going to go for? Might need to take care of this unicorn for a few days.” “Ah, you see… the rain is supposed to last forty days and forty nights. And I believe the flood itself should go on for quite a bit longer.” Perfect. Plenty of time for Hell to notice they were missing a demon on Earth, what could possibly go wrong? “Well, then. You might need a hand babysitting the unicorn.” *** Crowley and Aziraphale babysit a unicorn until the waters of the flood recede enough to return it home.

To Travel Through the World and Not Be Alone by Aethelflaed (G)

The longer Aziraphale spends on Earth, the more he begins to feel new things. Like a need to talk to someone. Or stand close to them. Take their hand. Where do these emotions come from? And why are they mainly directed at the demon he travels with? -- Aziraphale and Crawly learn to cope with the emotions and instincts that come with a human body. The Crowley-Turns-Into-A-Snake-When-Flustered fic that deconstructs the trope and plays it for feels!

the fact of his pulse by lexophile (NR)

The revelation of the angel’s face hovering over him—and his firelit, affectionate expression—is more than he can cope with right now. Crowley shuts his eyes again, although he does make an effort to relax his shoulders and curl his knees in towards his chest. He’s aware that lying in the fetal position with his head on an angel’s lap is just about the least demonic thing he’s ever done. - Or: five times Crowley successfully conceals his crush on Aziraphale and one time he fails.

Mistakes Were Made: The (Babylonian) Story of the Flood by eag (M)

A hundred years after the end of the Flood, Aziraphale runs into Crowley (or rather, Crawley) at a banquet in Abydos. Flashbacks to the Flood and that time an angel and a demon ran away for a year minus a day. Aziraphale and Crowley had better return on time to stand in the delegations of Heaven and Hell that meet in the aftermath of the Flood. Of course, mistakes were made...

The Weight Of The World by entanglednow, wargoddess9 (T)

At the height of the Roman Empire's power, Crowley meets Aziraphale for lunch in Pompeii. He's eager to share some of the famed street food the city has to offer, but the ash falling from the mountain to the North is steadily growing thicker.

Writing Letters Addressed to the Fire by Bluemask (T)

This is the problem of human beings, Crowley ponders; they never know when to stop. “Good Lord,” a familiar voice suddenly sighs on his left, close enough to be heard clearly despite the ongoing revolt. “What have you done this time?” Crowley forces himself to ignore the headache that has begun to squeeze his skull again. “You wound me, angel.” He turns just enough to get a glimpse of Aziraphale’s blonde hair and rich clothes, grinning sharply. “Do you really think all this mess is my fault?” Aziraphale rolls his eyes and takes a couple of steps to join Crowley. “How could it not be?” He asks. “As usual, you’re up to no good.” “What is good and what is evil, anyway..." [Essex, 1381] - Just an angel and a demon Falling in love throughout History, Time and Space. Nothing new, really.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #through the ages #falling in love #mod d

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gin-juice-tonic · 3 days

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I've been thinking a lot about gender identity and stuff lately, but to my shame I’m not the most educated person when it comes to lgbt related stuff. Every time I try to search it to learn more I end up freaking out and clearing my browsing history because of the feeling of being watched. I know I’m being unreasonable, but it’s stronger than me. I don’t have anyone to ask about this kind of stuff. Everyone around me is negative about lgbt, I grew up among this negativity. I’m afraid to ask my online friends because I don’t want to seem ignorant or stupid. What have I decided to do? Send an anonymous ask to a stranger about my concerns (sorry about that), whose blog helped me to accept the fact that I might not be who I though I was at the first place. It feels more safe. Back to the point.

As a teen I used she/they pronouns and a different gender-neutral name online for years. I still do it as an adult and now I realise that “she” was more like a compromise for me because it was what I used to be referred as for my whole life, but didn’t feel quite comfortable with. So it’s they/them for me, I guess. Okay. I’ve always preferred to not be related to any gender, but now I see that there’s more to it. I might be a nonbinary, but what if I’m actually an agender? I also consider the possibility of being a genderfluid because one moment I wear a dress and think that it looks good, and the other moment I cry in front of a mirror because of the idea of wearing it. So yeah, it depends on my mood. I don’t know how it works. I’m just so confused. The only thing I know that I’m not comfortable with being referred to as a female anymore. I’ve never really been.

Admittedly, as someone who is binary trans, I do not have a lot of knowledge in this area. I do know what it’s like to not know what you’re “supposed to be” though. And I know it can be frustrating and scary to be lost in trying to figure out your own identity.

I asked some of my friends, who are nonbinary and genderfluid themselves, and the first thing we all have to say is you should allow yourself more kindness. I am sorry that you grew up around so much negativity. But I want you to know that it’s both okay to feel afraid but also okay to not know everything. If a friend is going to treat you badly for asking questions, they’re not a very good friend.

One of my friends says the part you said about “making compromises” resonated a lot with them a lot, so you aren’t alone there. As for how you feel in a dress, clothes do not equal gender. You can like how you look in a dress without any of it having to do with girl-ishness. I suggest you try to think about why you like it when you do, and why you don’t when you don’t. My friends also suggested trying other clothes you can express yourself with. Think about why you like them, or why you don’t like them. (Of course, sometimes the answer has nothing to do with gender. I like athletic clothing because they make me look sporty, which is a neutral thing. But it’s good to know what parts aren’t related to gender at all too.) That extends beyond clothes too, any part of your presentation that you think you can play with without getting yourself into danger, you should.

It’s tempting to feel like you have to scramble to figure out a label. Especially when advice and other people you can talk to can feel sort of “grouped” under them. And there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained that way for sure. But there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained just in figuring out what you do and don’t like. What makes you feel bad, what makes you feel at ease, what makes you super excited. You‘ve got it nailed down that you don’t like being called a female, that’s not a bad start!

If your friends are people you think are good and kind, I would suggest reaching out to them so that you can explore things a little more with them, considering they know you better than I would. I know it's scary, but there's nothing wrong with not knowing things, and I hope they'd be aware of that too. And even if you call yourself something now and explore more into it, there's no harm if in the future it doesn't fit so good. There's no wrong way to be a gender, and more importantly there's no wrong way to be you.

#ask stuff #long post #sorry i hope that helps at least a little

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tired-reader-writer · 4 hours

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Ashaya backstory revamp

Ever since classes started again I have been consistently unable to either draw or write, and it's frustrating me a lot, so I'll just have to settle for making AU posts.

Andragoras and Tahamenay's child, that has not changed.

Given to some family in the Tabaristan region (formerly known as Mazandaran in ancient times), who were given hush money in exchange of raising them.

Ever since she was young, Sherine has noticed that she is... different.

Her parents leave her out. Her siblings pick up on that and leave her out too. Her parents don't treat her the same way they treat their other children.

Besides which, Sherine is not dumb. She realizes pretty quickly that she looks different from the rest of her family. Face too pointy. Hair too light.

People say she's a beautiful child.

Her parents seem determined to prove them otherwise.

Sherine is given more chores to do. Given plainer clothes. Made to stand behind her siblings at any given event.

She cries. She screams and struggles and stomps and yells in hopes that they'd listen, they'd know, this is unfair, she's their daughter too, isn't she? Sherine is—

Sherine is not dumb.

Sherine knows that whatever she is, she doesn't belong here.

People say she's a beautiful child.

Her family says she's nothing but trouble.

She wanders her hometown, sneaking off from doing chores at home. Spends her days scanning the faces of the townspeople— the merchants, the neighbors, the strangers, even the slaves. She looks and looks and looks, for any hint of similarity, any bit of resemblance, anything that might echo back to what she sees in the mirror, in the waters, every day.

Sneaks out of her house, flits from street to street, in a desperate bid to find someone, anyone, with some iteration of her features hiding amongst the crowds.

Stalks the family of that jolly grape seller from a couple blocks over, because they were light-haired like her even if the shades don't even come close to matching.

Hers is always different.

Hers is too peculiar.

Ivory-blond with rosy tips, hair of an outsider.

Mama beats her and sends her to bed without dinner.

Curling up in bed, hungry in a way that no amount of food would satisfy, Sherine thinks.

She doesn't belong here.

She isn't a child of this family.

She doesn't think she's even related to them.

Where are her parents?

Did they die? Is that why papa and mama take her in? Because they knew her parents?

Except, really, they mustn't have loved her parents, whoever they were, because if they did then surely they would treasure Sherine too. Right?

Right?

If they died and nobody here loved them, then why is she here? Wouldn't she have been put on the doorsteps of a temple or taken from the streets by... by...

She'll never get the image out of her head, a slaver, flogging a young boy barely older than her.

She's seen them, on her escapades, prowling the streets sniffing around for any abandoned baby by a roadside or in an alleyway.

She shudders thinking about it. Mama always says one of these days she's going to sell Sherine, too.

She's scared.

She doesn't know.

Whatever the case was, she was unwanted in some way. Is unwanted, right now in this present she lives in, unwanted by this family, unwanted by whoever decided to leave their daughter on this doorstep.

She clutches her aching stomach.

She doesn't sleep.

Day by day, night by night, she prays what little words she manages to remember.

Prays to be loved.

Prays to be found.

Prays to be...

To be...

There's a tale in this town.

If you wander deep into the woods, you'll find a dilapidated place.

They call it a temple. That's stupid. The building looks nothing like a temple.

Those who wander in, they say, come back wrong.

Come back days, months, years later.

No matter how long they take, they don't look a day older.

They were playing, her siblings and the other kids, they play, but she never gets included. They get mean when she tries. They always give her whatever's the worst.

She runs.

She runs and runs and runs until her legs burn and there's no air in her lungs.

She doesn't notice the butterflies frozen in air.

She doesn't notice the sudden stillness of the trees after a certain point.

Not until she trips.

There, on the ground, stained in mud and dirt and snot and tears, she curls up like she always does at night.

She's so hungry.

She hears their voices, a couple bushes over, arguing about the prey they were supposed to hunt.

They don't find her.

She bolts upright, startled, nerves tingling with something she doesn't know what to name.

She looks around.

Silence and stillness.

She should be afraid, she thinks. She should try to leave. To go home, to go find those dummies who didn't even see her when they were nearby.

But she thinks of their meanness, of mama's anger and papa's weird stares, of the prowling slavers wandering the streets.

Just a little bit, she thinks. Just a little longer. Just a little bit of peace. She'll take the beatings later, she'll deal with that when they catch her.

That's right.

She just has to not get caught for a little while longer.

[brain juices running out so this will be reverting back from story mode to summary mode, augh]

Anyways, she spends a long time (to her) in the woods and doesn't really notice that the sun isn't moving in the sky bc she's a little kid and she's too busy rolling around and having fun until she falls asleep out of exhaustion (both physical and emotional, since all the shit she went through finally caught up to her in a safe moment)

(you'll notice that in the story/narration part “Sherine” refers to themselves by she/her bc at the time they hadn't had the chance to realize y'know, the gender stuff)

Sherine wakes up, finds that it's night, and she can't find her way back.

(the haunted area actually booted her out so she's in a different spot of the forest)

Kid has an epiphany of sorts.

“She can't stay here.

Not anymore.

If she's so unwanted anyways, what harm would it do for her to disappear?

For her to leave?”

So she does.

Anyways, it's night, Farangis (with some clan adults) is wandering the area for a reason I have yet to fully decide on.

They meet.

Sherine is absolutely taken by this gorgeous lady.

One long conversation later while Farangis does her best to clean the kid up, it's abundantly clear that Sherine is Not Okay.

So they get taken!

And Sherine gets to chop off their hair and choose a new name.

But until she settles on a proper name she chose for herself, their temporary name is Ranna.

Sherine has a complicated relationship with girlhood because of the toxic standards that were forced on her by their “parents”.

Anyways that's how Ashaya comes to join the clan!

What I imagine a young ex-Sherine to look like as she leaves with Farangis.

Fun fact, Areyan is usually a sweet and gentle kid but for some unknown reason he and Ashaya regularly gets into fisticuffs.

They're 7 when they join the clan. Farangis is 15, she'd just come of age.

At some point I kinda wanted Ashaya and Alfarīd to have met in their younger years but I don't see that working out w this trajectory sooooo... oops.

Anyways, a look into Ashaya's trauma! Where their lack of hope and faith in the world stems from. I somehow couldn't get into it in the narration but her family house could own slaves, maybe, (still she gets made to do chores bc Double Standards), and on her escapades to find her parents or relatives in the town she gets to see a whoooole lot of violence thrown at slaves and poor commoners and it always stuck w them.

She tries questioning it once, they got punished.

Kinda echoes Alfarīd's hopelessness in the nation too, she did say in the manga “there's no point to restoring the nation, it'll just make new nobles and new slaves” and it's an attitude Ashaya holds, too.

It'll be up to them to find that hope again. Alfarīd would be the one to eventually give back hope to Ashaya, but for that she herself will have to believe.

Unlike in canon I don't really see Alfarīd coming to believe in someone changing the system, rather that there's something worth living for even in a broken world. I think she'd have an attitude like that. It just fits her.

(I'm reminded of the song Kamado Tanjirou no Uta from the AU playlist, and that one video from Hello Future Me about the Ghibli movie The Boy and the Heron.)

(“We did not choose this world. But we must live in it.”)

To elaborate on why Ashaya lost faith in the world, it's smth like, if something so terrible and hurtful like the slavery system is allowed to exist, if nobody batted an eye at the abuse she went through, if nobody thinks to hold abusers accountable, if people are rewarded with brutality for their kindness, then... there's nothing worth saving here.

In addition to their own abuse they also saw others being abused, remember that the clan is made up of runaways and hurt people and abandoned people and victims and survivors— almost nobody who comes to the clan... came from happiness.

Is it any wonder that their faith was broken?

In contrast, let's look at Alfarīd. Protective instincts, strong sense of justice, responsible if a bit chaotic, remember how in the manga Alfarīd urges Estelle to remember the women and children and injured they'd saved? That they must think of, that they must protect, instead of thinking about the King?

Alfarīd, I think, abhors the system, but still sees people and things worth protecting anyways.

(and not to jump all over like a kangaroo but let's talk about Farangis this time)

She's an orphan. She entered the temple of Mithra after her loss. She was too talented. Too diligent. Too beautiful. People shunned her because of it.

And I'm willing to bet there's aggression and subtle bullying, too.

Look, it's a closed community. That sort of place gets rancid real fast.

(I would know. I myself was trapped in a prison of a boarding school where my suicidal ideation got wayyyyyyy bad.)

So, y'know, Ashaya-as-Sherine is a reflection of her days in the temple. That's why she has a soft spot for her.

Farangis is one of the few people Ashaya will listen to.

Anyways that concludes thus the post about Ashaya!

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #wolfpack au #winds of wolfsong #rotten egg's shitty writing #ranna (oc)#ashaya (oc)#farangis #alfarīd #alfreed

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maximoffsbaby · 2 days

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| DON’T PUSH ME AWAY |

wanda maximoff x f!reader

1.3K words

warnings: heavy topics mentioned, self harm / cuts and burns, depression, alcohol addiction

Summary: Sometimes running away just brings more pain not only to yourself but also to your girlfriend.

Hi everyone! So this is my first time writing something on here. I’m not a writer but i’d love to try and write short stories with wanda! Also, english isn’t my native language, sorry in advance for the mistakes!

Loud bangs on your door pulled you out of your trance. You didn’t move, even when you heard her voice. You loved her so much and you hated yourself for it. You didn’t deserve her and she definitely didn’t deserve you. She deserved so much better, someone who wasn’t broken.

The banging hasn’t stopped. Anger was starting to find its place washing away the annoyance of the whole situation.

‘Y/N open up now, i know you’re in here!’

It took everything you had not to snap at your girlfriend. She was slowly pushing your buttons and you didn’t know how long you’d last before snapping.

‘I’m coming in!’

You froze. Your brain stopped working for a few seconds before the sound of her keys jinglind brought you back to reality. She couldn’t see you like this. No, that’s why you disappeared. You’re supposed to be strong, supposed to be this though person than nothing can hurt. What would she be thinking if she was to know?

That’s when the door opened and you realized everything was about to end. She would either break up or you would do it.

As soon as she opened the door, her eyes landed on yours. She took in your appearance and her heart broke. She’d never seen you like this. Blood shot and puffy eyes. Tears stains on your cheeks and clothes, clothes that looked like they’d been worn for days. Greasy and messed up hair. But what shocked her the most was how fragile you looked, like you would literally break at any moment.

Tissues were scattered everywhere. As she was taking in the state of your apartment, the smell hit her. Cigarettes and alcohol. Ashes could be spotted on the ground and the amount of dead bottles were concerning.

‘Y/N I-‘

‘You have to leave’ you cut her off.

‘Y/N, baby no. What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything sweetheart.’

‘Please Wands, you have to leave’

Tears started to make their way back to your eyes again. Not 20 minutes ago you thought you’d run out of tears. If only. Why did she have to come here?

Wanda started to make her way toward yourself.

‘I’m not leaving you, not until you talk to me’

‘I’m fine, please just go. I’ll text you tomorrow.’

‘No Y/N, you’re clearly not fine. Don’t lie to me. Last time we saw each other you seemed off by the end of the night. You stopped showing up, how long has it been since we last saw each other? And you’ve stopped replying to my texts. Honey, please tell me what’s wrong. I hate seeing you like this.’

‘Wands I-‘

That’s when you broke down. Her arms rapidly wrapped themselves around your body as you hugged her closer. She held you tightly and made the both of you sit down. She patiently waited for you to calm down.

‘I’m okay really. It looks worse than it actually is.’

‘Y/N I- What is it that you’re afraid of?’ We talk about anything and everything all the time. What’s stopping you from opening up to me now? You know i won’t judge you. I love you.’

You couldn’t look at her. You were so embarrassed. Deep inside, you know she loves you and would never hurt you, judge or make fun of you. But there’s this part of you that just thinks the opposite.

Wanda squeezed your hands and made you look at her.

‘I’m worried about you.’

You looked away and withdrew your hands from hers. After a moment of silence, you took a deep breath and decided to tell her everything.

‘It all started years ago. I was experiencing pretty bad anxiety and panic attacks for the first time and I didn’t know how to deal with them. It was ruining my life, I was really struggling. But as if that wasn’t enough, i also got depressed. It was bad, i didn’t know what was happening. I had never felt that way before. It was overwhelming. I was drowning in sadness and pain and didn’t know how to make it stop. Soon enough, i started to self harm.’

You took a look at Wanda, to make sure that this wasn’t too much for her. You almost hit the wall next to you as the pained expression across her face and the light tears that formed in her eyes broke your heart to pieces. She nodded her head softly, indicating you to continue.

‘I would cut myself and everything would quiet down as i was taking it out on my body. Eventually, i realized this wasn’t going to change anything so i stopped. I got better with time, to the point i think i just fooled myself for months before it all came crashing down. I somehow managed to survive it. But this time I got better not because i was fooling myself but because i needed time. And it took a while but i got out of it. The thing is no matter what i do or feel, at the end of the day i’m still a depressed person. I can smile, laugh and feel good and enjoy things but i’m still depressed.’

Wanda tried to take your hands but you just moved them away. You wanted to get everything out first. You didn’t see the look of hurt that flashed across her face. She wanted to touch you, to comfort you in any way possible but Wanda understood and respected your choice.

‘It got bad again a few days ago and i didn’t want you to know that part of myself so i thought that disappearing was the best option.’

Then you stopped. You turned your head to meet her gaze. She got closer and put her forehead against yours as a way of comforting you while her hands made their way back to yours. You let it happen. After a moment you moved away but let her hold your hands.

‘And just so you know everything, i burnt myself a few months ago. I stopped after the second time and hated myself for doing it because it doesn’t change anything and i’m just left struggling to hide the burns. I also got a drinking problem, I’m not an alcoholic but i don’t have a good relationship with it either.’

You were thankful she did not cut you off once. Nor did she said a word while you were silent avout how she also had her own demons to fight. At this moment you wanted to be listened and she did.

‘Thank you for opening up to me, I know it wasn’t easy for you. And i’m sorry that you feel this way. You’re a wonderful person Y/N with an amazing personality. It’s not because you’re always the funny and not scared of anything kind of person than you talking to me is making you weak. I know this is what you think. You’re not, you’re my wonderful girlfriend that I love so much and who I’d be lost without. Please next time it happens, don’t push me away. I want to be there for you, you don’t have to go through this alone.’

‘Can you hug me?’

‘My baby, come here.’ She said as she pulled you into her arms. You had missed her so much. You were so scared she’d leave you if she was to know. But no, what you didn’t know yet is that you opening up to her about such sensitive and heavy private topics brought you both closer.

What you also didn’t know yet is that Wanda would always be by your side. You were the love her life and she’d offer you the moon if she could.

‘Now let’s get you cleaned up so we can go back to my place. We’ll take care of here another time.’ Your girlfriend said as she kissed your forehead.

A silent promise that you and her would always face anything no matter how hard it was going to be.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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babybluebex · 3 days

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yes i know i'm extremely late on the mother's day front, seeing as i've got 10 minutes left in the day, but don't think about being dom's wife and having your first mother's day with him

like i think the first one would be while you're still pregnant, and you go to his house and have lunch with miss jennifer and bella and dom, and he's sorta being protective the whole time even though he doesn't need to be, just helping you stand up and sit down, getting up to get you stuff so you don't have to get up, stuff like that and he gets up to get you more water while at lunch, and his mom waits until he's fully out of the room before leaning forward and going "i've never seen him like this before" and you're like "aha yeah he's acting a little neurotic today... more than usual" and miss jennifer is like "no, i mean... he's good around his cousins and their kids, but i've never seen him... attentive like this. this is a first for him" and bella chimes in "yeah, he's bending over backwards for you. i mean, as he should, you're literally carrying his child, but he's never been like this" and you're like "huh. weird." but he comes back before any of you can say more and lands a kiss on your head as he sits down and when you go to leave, miss jennifer hands you a little gift bag "don't open this until you're back home" and winks at you, and she hugs you "happy mother's day, momma" and you do as your mother-in-law asked, you wait until you're back in your nyc apartment and your husband goes to futz around in the nursery as per usual (he always has some sort of project that he's doing, adjusting the furniture or rearranging the books on the shelf; you think he's making up excuses just to spend time in there) and you sit on your bed as you go into the bag and extract a little striped onesie, an old baby clothes brand that you're not sure exists anymore, snaps on the front and little mitts over the hands, and the tag inside says "newborn", but then you notice a little red stitching on the back of the collar: DAS. dominic a sessa. and your eyes water and your heart explodes as you hold your husband's baby onesie, and you tug out the card from the bag and read jen's handwriting "we brought dominic home from the hospital in this onesie. hopefully you can do the same with your own. you know who to call if you need anything. xo, grandma jen" and you go to dom in the nursery and sniffle as you show him the onesie and he chuckles "oh wow... this old thing..." and he rests his hands on your little belly as he kisses your shoulder "this time next year, they'll be with us"

and he's right, fast forward 365 days, and you wake up to a light knock on the door to the bedroom, you squint and grunt, and the door winges open to show your husband, a shadow on his jaw, your six month old son in his arms as he balances a plate in one hand, and little frankie squeals when he sees you, and it puts an instant smile on your face "well, hi, boys" you rasp sleepily, and you reach out for your son, taking him in your arms and dom sits on the edge of the bed and smiles as he watches you land a kiss on his son's nose, and he says "do you know what today is?" and you wrinkle your eyebrows "sunday?" and dom laughs "well, yes, but what else?" and you shrug, bouncing fussy frankie a little "it's mother's day" and you're like "oh. i forgot. i have to call my mom" and dom's like "right, but eat some breakfast first" and the plate he brought in has pancakes and cut-up strawberries on it, and dom says "frankester helped me cook. didn't you, stink?" and frankie claps a little in excitement "and by 'helped you cook', you certainly mean he ate some mashed-up strawberries while you burnt a few pancakes?" you ask, grabbing a strawberry with your fingers "the only way he knows how to help" dom nods, and he falls silent while you start to eat, but you notice his unusual silence, and you're like "what's wrong, dommy?" "nothing" he says easily "just enjoying our first mother's day as a family" and you can't help but smile, and you tug dom by his arm into a kiss, and frankie reaches up to touch his father's chin and he does a tiny baby giggle that makes dom laugh "alright, mister, what's so funny?" he asks, and frankie just looks at him with the same almond dark eyes that dom has and a smile on his gummy mouth

#dominic sessa x reader #dominic sessa #yeah this is short but what can u do #at least i'm writing #mother's day #tw pregnancy #tw motherhood

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odyssean-flower · 2 days

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the winding path of fate chapter 13 sneak peak

(this is the second half of the first part. I want to rewrite the first half. tbh i'm thinking of posting the first part of chapter 13 since it is relatively long. ngl i feel like i put too many events in a single chapter sometimes. will put up a poll tomorrow when i finish the rewrites.)

With the new day and the cozy safety of your room, the events of last night seemed like they happened a lifetime ago. The fear had mostly subsided, leaving mortification and regret in its wake, especially as everyone was acting so considerate towards you. Looking back, you had no idea what you were thinking, and you realized once again just how lucky you had been.

Your ankle’s swelling had gone down considerably the next day, but it still hurt whenever you put even the slightest bit of pressure on it, so you spent most of the day in bed, reading books, drawing, or staring out the window at the gray sky. Your knee didn’t hurt quite as much either, but you still had to change the dressing regularly. You weren’t without company, though, as Marie sat with you in your room often, bringing you food and helping you put away your newly bought clothes in your closet. She had been horrified when you came home last night, injured. “Oh, Madame, you should have asked someone to get me!” she had lamented. “The streets at night are no place for a young lady to walk by herself!”

Marie wasn’t the only visitor to your room. The Melusines, including those who hadn’t gone shopping with you, also came to see you throughout the day. You supposed that Neuvillette told them about you, for they all brought you cakes and other desserts as get-well presents (you also suspected that they also reported back to Neuvillette about your condition, for when you mentioned to one Melusine how you would like to drink some Fonta, your wish was granted by the next Melusine who visited. However, she also heartily recommended that you drink water from Snezhnaya instead, which held a coolness that was good against swelling, and if you wished, you could ask Marie to fetch a bottle of it for you from Monsieur Neuvillette’s personal stash. She also added that you need not hesitate to ask, as he had more than one bottle. Perhaps all Melusines shared his specific tastes in water, but you didn’t quite believe that was the case).

Rhemia and the other Melusines who had been with you yesterday had been the most distressed upon seeing you bedridden. “I’ll stick to you like glue from now on, Madame! No criminal will escape my sights!” Rhemia had declared, and her sisters nodded vigorously in agreement.

“There really is no need for that,” you tried to decline her offer. Privately, you thought that there wasn’t much a Melusine could do against muggers anyways. “The whole incident only happened because I was careless and in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’ll be much more careful next time, so I doubt it will happen again. Just because I’m Neuvillette’s wife, it doesn’t mean that I deserve special treatment or anything of the sort. And if he put you up to this, then—”

Rhemia blinked at you in confusion. “But this has nothing to do with Monsieur Neuvillette. Not entirely, anyways.”

“It doesn’t?” Now you were confused.

“Nope! I’d do this for all the people important to me! Oh, but I guess you’re more than that, since you’re married to Monsieur Neuvillette! That would make you our mother, I suppose.”

“Um…” There was the m-word again. You considered correcting Rhemia, but she continued on, seemingly not noticing your discomfort.

“You’re always so kind and patient with us, just like Monsieur Neuvillette. You greet us whenever you see us, and you always ask us about our days and listen to our troubles. Oh, and Madame, you’re such a good teacher too! I’ve gotten so much better at drawing humans thanks to your lessons!” Rhemia turned to her friends. “Am I right?”

Her friends nodded enthusiastically. They began recounting all the times you’ve spent with them.

“I’m glad to hear that you all think of me as your friend,” you said after they finished, a little embarrassed but also pleased. You hadn’t expected them to remember so much about you. But you felt a little guilty as well. At first, you decided to become friendly with the Melusines because everyone knew that Neuvillette treasured them greatly and you wanted to be in his good graces so that he wouldn’t have any reason to kick you out. They had always been the ones to come up to you first, especially in the first few weeks after your marriage, and while you didn’t consider yourself to be a particularly friendly and warm person, even you weren’t heartless enough to be cold to such a cheerful race of creatures.

“It’s not just us! I’m sure all the Melusines in the Court of Fontaine feel the same way. You’re just as important to us as Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Oh…” Looking at their bright, earnest faces, you didn’t know what to say. Your eyes suddenly became misty. Before this marriage, you hadn’t really given much mind to Melusines. They were just the public servants you would occasionally pass by on the street. But now that you were connected to them through Neuvillette, you were belatedly learning just how wonderful they were.

“Thank you,” you said at last, patting each of them on the head. Your hand still stung a little from last night, but you ignored it. “It means a lot to me that you think so highly of me. Truly. Still, you don’t need to follow me around. If I ever need help, I promise that I will come straight to you. And…I hope that you would all come to the sunflower viewing party we’re holding here next month.”

“Of course, Madame! We wouldn’t miss it for anything!” the Melusines chirped in unison.

By evening, the deluge of visitors had finally ended. You sank into your pillows, feeling exhausted. You weren’t used to having so many people fuss over you. It was unfamiliar territory, one that you weren’t quite sure how to navigate.

Still, as you gazed at the teetering pile of confectionary boxes covered in Melusine stickers on your bedside table and remembered all the get-well wishes you received, a rush of warmth flooded your heart. How did I get so lucky? You wondered. Perhaps even after I leave Neuvillette, we can still be friends…

As you were lost in your thoughts, Marie came into your room again.

“Oh, Madame, I completely forgot to give you this because of everything that happened yesterday. It appears to be from your family.”

Marie handed you an envelope made of thick, creamy paper. You recognized the stationery as the kind used by your father for formal correspondences, and the address written in familiar, flowery cursive on the front was indeed that of your family’s house.

“Ah, that would be from my sister,” you said, tearing the envelope open and taking out the contents. The enveloped contained two cards made of similarly thick paper. They both had an elaborately drawn border of Lumidouce Bells and Rainbow Roses and had an invitation written in the center. This was new.

You are cordially invited

To a celebration

Honoring

Justine’s nineteenth birthday

Semi-formal attire requested (Floral themed outfits are preferred)

P.S. Sister, please tell me if Monsieur Neuvillette has any allergies or requires any accommodations!

“Ugh…” you groaned, putting your palm over your face. “I still haven’t gotten her a present yet!”

That had been the cause of this trouble in the first place, and yet you hadn’t even accomplished your goal in the end.

While we’re on this topic, shouldn’t she have sent the invitations much earlier if she wanted people to RSVP? It’s just like her to do things last minute! And why is she acting like it’s already decided that Neuvillette’s coming?

“Marie, could you please fetch me my pen and paper?” you asked the housekeeper. After you received them, you began to write a reply to tell Justine that while you were coming, Neuvillette definitely wasn’t. But just as you got to that last part, you paused. The idea of the Chief Justice attending a teenage girl’s birthday party all the way out in the countryside was absurd, of course. You tried to picture him sitting at your family’s worn dining table, singing “Happy Birthday” eating the butterscotch cake your housekeeper always made for birthdays, all the while fending off the barrage of questions from your family and friends. I can’t imagine it! It’s just too ridiculous!

It would be better if he didn’t have too much contact with your family, in order to avoid them asking too many questions, and to make the eventual divorce go smoothly.

He rarely even attended the far more glamorous functions of high society, so something like this would be out of the question. His answer would go without asking.

Or would it?

You didn’t really know why you were entertaining the idea. Perhaps being with Neuvillette these past few months had greatly inflated your sense of self-importance—but then again, you thought that the two of you had gotten close enough where asking him wouldn’t be so preposterous. You were friends, and wouldn’t it be ruder to not at least extend an invitation to a friend? Wasn’t the act of asking in itself greatly appreciated?

And…there was a little part of you that would like to show him around your hometown. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and all you could see for miles around were fields of wildflowers and mountains—a common sight in Fontaine—but there were a few spots that you had fond memories of. Since Neuvillette showed you his favorite places, it was only right to repay the favor, even if none of your favorite spots were as exciting as the giant willow tree or Merusea Village.

Recent events, including the latest incident, had taught you the folly of making assumptions, even for seemingly inconsequential things like this. Just because you thought

The worst thing he could say is no, you reasoned to yourself. And it’s not the end of the world if he does. Sure, Justine will be disappointed, but everyone knows how busy and reclusive Neuvillette is, so she’ll understand if he declines.

As if on cue, you heard the front door open downstairs. Neuvillette had returned home. After a brief conversation with Marie, the sound of his heels briskly ascending the stairs and heading in the direction of your room until it stopped in front of your door. There was a soft knock.

“Madame, may I come in?”

“Yes,” you called out, and Neuvillette opened the door and stepped inside your room. He was about to close the door behind him, but then he looked at you. A thought seemed to cross his mind, and he left the door ajar.

Um, why is he just standing there? You stared at him, confused when he didn’t take a seat right away. He simply stared at you, his gaze a mix of worry, uncertainty, and something else. For a second, you wondered if he was that caught off guard by your dishevelled appearance that was a result of staying in bed all day. It took you a minute to realize that he was waiting for you to ask him to sit down. Really, this man… I thought we’re past such formalities.

“You can pull up a chair,” you said, nodding towards the cushioned chairs in the center of the room. He complied, clasping his hands in his lap after settling in his seat and leaning towards you slightly. He stared at you intently, as if afraid that you would disappear before his eyes. You squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were wearing only your rumpled nightgown and that you were lying in bed. You surreptitiously pulled your covers up to your chest.

Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve ever had a man who isn’t my father in my room, you mused, though you were also aware that this wasn’t really the occasion to think about such things. Well, I guess it technically isn’t the first time, since he carried me back here when I fell asleep in his study that one time. First time that I was conscious, then.

Thankfully, Neuvillette broke the silence and (once again) prevented your thoughts from going in strange directions.

“The robbers will be tried in court shortly,” he said. “It will be a short, simple trial, considering the number of witnesses at the scene. I will not be presiding over it, however.”

“I see,” you nodded. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

Despite that, his brow remained creased with worry. “How are you feeling, Madame? Should I take you to the hospital after all?” he asked.

“No, that really won’t be necessary,” you shook your head vigorously. “It’s only a bad sprain. I’ll probably be able to walk again tomorrow.”

“It is highly unwise to rush your recovery. What will happen if you worsen your injury? The meeting with Furina can be postponed—”

“Don’t postpone it,” you said, leaning over to grab his sleeve and stared into his eyes. “The sooner we get this over with, the better. I’ll drag myself up the steps of the Palais if I have to.”

Neuvillette looked like he wanted to argue, but he swallowed back whatever he was going to say. “There’s no need to exert yourself in such a way,” he said at last. “I would be happy to carry you into my office, if you should ask.”

“Carry me into your office, huh?” you leaned back against your pillow with a smile. You sometimes wondered if Neuvillette realized how unintentionally funny he could be. “Wouldn’t that give people the wrong idea?”

“You do have a point. Then, I propose that we arrive at my office early in the morning, before the Palais employees come into work.”

“How about instead of carrying me, I borrow your cane?”

Neuvillette seemed to be pondering your words seriously. “But that would also run into the problem of rousing people’s suspicions. Someone might wonder why my cane is in your possession.”

You turned your head away to smother your laugh.

“It seems that the Melusines have made their visits,” Neuvillette said, looking at the tower of boxes on your bedside table.

“Yes, they were all very sweet. Although, I’m not sure how they expect me to eat all these…” You liked dessert and all, but not to this extent. Perhaps you could bring some of them back home with you to share with your family and friends.

“Clorinde also asked me to pass on her well wishes to you. She was very sorry to hear what happened.”

“I see. Please thank her for me, and tell her not to blame herself for my foolishness.”

“I will do that,” Neuvillette nodded, then was silent for a moment. His solemn gaze as he looked at you made it seem like you were diagnosed with some terminal illness rather than merely spraining your ankle badly and hitting your knee against the ground.

“Neuvillette?” you called out his name in hopes of getting rid of that grave look in his eyes. It made your chest feel heavy.

“Ah, by the way, I consulted with a friend of mine about your injury. She made this drink for you,” Neuvillette brandished a green, ridiculously adorable cup from out of nowhere. It reminded of you of the cups toddlers drank juice out of. “She says that it will help your body recover quicker.”

“A friend of yours?” you repeated, your interest piqued. While Neuvillette would happily talk to you about the Melusines for hours on end and occasionally talk about his (human) acquaintances, you had never heard him call anyone his friend before.

“Yes. She is the head nurse the Fortress of Meropide’s infirmary, and one of the kindest and considerate people I know. I hope the two of you can meet one day.”

“That’s high praise coming from you,” you said, making a mental note of this mysterious friend. “Why don’t we invite her to the sunflower viewing as well?”

“What a wonderful idea. I shall do just that,” he said, then held out the cup to you. “Now, Madame, you should drink this.”

“Alright,” you took a sip of the drink and nearly spat it out. “Bleakness” was the only way to describe the taste. It almost made you want to get out of bed and walk so that the pain could distract you from the torture of your tastebuds. For a heartbeat, you wondered if Neuvillette was trying to poison you. “A-Are you sure this is h-healthy?”

“Of course,” Neuvillette said, looking baffled by your question. “I’ve drank it on numerous occasions, and I’ve always found myself quite refreshed and invigorated afterwards. I asked Sigewinne to make it taste more palatable for you, as I’m aware that her concoctions are not for everyone. She truly hopes it makes you feel better.”

This is palatable? You thought. Did I do something to this Sigewinne person? Whoever she was, she shared the same incomprehensible sense of taste as Neuvillette.

Speaking of Neuvillette, he was looking at you expectantly. Oh Archons, is he expecting me to finish it in front of him? Just as you were trying to come up with an excuse to not drink it, those efforts were dashed by his next words. “Is it not to your liking?” he said quietly. You were vaguely aware that it had started raining outside.

“I…um…” you didn’t know what to say or where to look. You suddenly had the impression that a large puppy was at your bedside, staring at you with sad eyes. Gah, he must be doing this on purpose! Either that, or he must really be fond of that friend of his. “Well, when it comes to medicine, it’s not really a matter of liking it or not liking it, right? A-And since you’ve gone to the trouble of asking your friend to make this for me, it would be rude of me to not drink it, right?” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself.

“If you do not like it, then you do not need to force yourself—”

“No, no, I mean, I’ve taken plenty of bitter medicine when I was little, and I survived. This will be no different,” you brought the straw up to your mouth and held your breath. Let’s just get this over quickly, you thought, then emptied the cup in one go. Fortunately, there wasn’t much to drink. However, the lumpy texture was still a struggle to swallow. You felt as though you had just eaten concrete.

“That was…certainly something I’ve never drank before,” you managed, flopping back onto your pillows to recover. You opened a box of lemon tarts and shoved one into your mouth to get rid of the taste. Honestly, you wanted to drink some Fonta instead, but decided that it might be a bit uncouth. Of course, some might say that it was unladylike to eat cake in bed in the first place, but you doubted those people ever had the misfortune of having to drink that so-called “healthy drink.” “Please thank your friend for me.”

Neuvillette nodded, watching you as you ate a second, then a third tart. Lemon wasn’t your favorite flavor, but anything would do right now. YYou offered one to him, but he politely declined. His gaze dropped to the papers in your lap. “…Were you writing a letter to someone?” he asked.

“Oh!” you had almost forgotten about that. “My sister Justine sent us invitations to her birthday party. It’s a bit short notice, but it’s in a few days.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard you mention it before,” Neuvillette took a pause, as if he had only just taken in the entirety of your words. “Did you say ‘invitations’?”

“Yes,” you nodded. Your hands suddenly felt sweaty. What were you so nervous about? “Since we’re, you know, husband and wife, it’s only natural that invitations would be sent to the both of us. Funny thing is, Justine thinks you’re already coming and has asked me if you require any accommodations, but of course you haven’t given any answer as to whether or not you’ll be attending the party. I-I know that you usually don’t attend public functions, but birthdays parties in our party don’t tend to be very extravagant affairs. It’s usually just a small gathering of close friends and relatives. We can even make everyone sign a contract of confidentiality, if you want. You don’t have to bring any gifts either. I think your presence will be a gift in itself for my sister, haha…”

Oh no, I’m rambling again…why do I keep doing this in front of him? You toyed with the edge of your comforter, suddenly too nervous to look at his expression. Would there be a look of disgust there? Why would there be? Your brain argued back. You haven’t asked anything offensive!

Finally, you dared to sneak a peek. He was staring at your face, as though scrutinizing it for answers to a difficult question.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, thinking that he must be trying to find a way to let you down gently.

“…Do you want me to attend?” he said at last.

You hadn’t expected that question. “What do you mean?” you frowned.

“What I mean is…would it please you—would it make you happy if I attended your sister’s party?”

Ah, so the answer is no, then, you thought. That was expected.

“Well, it’s not my party, so my opinion doesn’t matter,” you said slowly. “Justine would like for you to come, but there is no obligation on your part to say yes. If you like, I can make up some excuse about your absence to tell everyone.”

“But your opinion does matter quite a lot to me,” Neuvillette said. He was oddly insistent about this. “I would like to hear what you think.”

“As I said, it’s not my party. It will not affect me one way or another should you choose to come or not,” Realizing that you might be sounding too harsh, you softened your next words. “It’s okay to say no. I’m sure everyone will understand if you can’t come.”

Neuvillette stared at you for a long while, his eyes unreadable. You could hear the rain pounding against your window, and you turned your head to it. The sky was a dark, leaden gray. It’s been raining pretty frequently these days, hasn’t it? You thought distantly.

“Unfortunately, I have a trial to oversee on that day,” he said. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him clench and unclench his fists. You wondered why he didn’t mention the trial earlier. “I do not think it would be wise for me to attend, in any case. It would be a needless distraction.”

“Alright then. I’ll tell my sister you can’t attend,” you said lightly, then turned your attention to your unfinished letter. You picked up your pen and began to write. Focusing your mind on producing the words helped distract from the tumult of emotions within you—emotions that you didn’t know quite what to make of. Was it relief you felt, or disappointment? Relief for what? Disappointment about what? You couldn’t tell at all.

In any case, it’s over and done with, you told yourself firmly, signing the letter with a flourish. Maybe too big of a flourish. I’ll post this first thing in the morning—that is, if I can walk by then.

You glanced up to see Neuvillette still sitting there. He was drinking from his cup, but he was watching you over the rim. You had long gotten used to him studying you like you were some kind of strange specimen, but it was still awkward, especially in this silence. Your room, which had always felt needlessly spacious to you, suddenly felt very small.

Just as you were debating whether or not to fake a sleepy yawn and ask him to leave, he spoke again.

“You haven’t yet bought a birthday present for your sister, yes?”

“That’s right,” you replied, wondering what he was getting at.

“I won’t have any time tomorrow, but I do have an hour or two to spare after our meeting with Furina. We shall go pick out a present together then.”

You gaped at him. “Are you serious?”

“Why would I not be? It is customary for married couples to give presents as a pair, is it not?”

“I…suppose so,” you said. Neuvillette was so hard to grasp sometimes. Sometimes, he was clear as a fresh water spring. Other times, like now, you had the sense that you were staring into the sea, unable to see all the way to its bottom.

“Then it is settled,” he said with a note of satisfaction in his voice, then leaned forward and cupped your cheek. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even have a chance to react. “W-Wha…” was all you could manage to stammer out. There was only a millimeter of space between your faces. Your heart sped up a little when his gaze moved to your lips. His thumb moved to the corner of your lip and brushed against it. It took you a moment to realize that he had flicked off a cake crumb.

“I still have some work to finish, so I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave now,” he informed you, removing his hand from your cheek. Despite that, you could still feel the smooth silk of his glove and the latent strength in his long fingers. “Please rest and get well soon, Madame.”

You could only nod as you gazed up at him. He stared into your eyes for a moment longer before turning on his heel and leaving your room. It was only when you heard his footsteps recede to the other side of the house that you realized that it was no longer raining.

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x reader #my writing #the winding path of fate #is this even slow burn at this point idk #what even is slow burn

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impossiblycolorfulpanda · 2 days

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Zutara Month Day 10 - Secret

Zuko is the first to wake up and sees Katara resting by his side. They were both in their bed chambers, their clothing scattered all over the floor and the door locked tight. Katara eventually woke up.

Zuko: Hello there.

Katara: Hey.

Zuko: You think anyone heard us.

Katara: Hopefully not, but I think we were both too caught up in the moment to care.

Zuko: (Sigh)

Katara: You ok?

Zuko: I just don't think we can keep hiding this.

Katara: I believe you said something about keeping the controversial uproar to a minimum because, besides the air nomads, my nation suffered the worst under the dark avatar's curse and war.

Zuko: They should know that Vaatu's curse has nothing to do with me and I even helped you and the avatar break it.

Katara: You and I both know that the public doesn't always see shades of grey. When someone does something really wrong, they personally want to punish them. Letting someone else do it doesn't always feel that satisfying. I understand that feeling.

Zuko: Yeah, but people are already talking, asking questions, spreading rumors. They're gonna figure it out. I just figured it'd be better for them to know on our terms, not someone else's. Kinda like how Aang and Azula went about revealing their relationship.

Katara: Well, when you put it like that, maybe. Aang and Azula know about us, their support might make things easier and who would dare question the authority of the avatar and the self-proclaimed Phoenix Queen, right?

#zutara #zutara month 2024 #atla

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bumbleboa · 2 years

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I saw your recent post and honestly I can imagine sonoko accompanying shinichi clothes shopping just so she can sleep peacefully in the knowledge that his fashion sense won't embarrass ran in dates (I'm not saying shinichi has bad fashion sense, I'm saying sonoko says shinichi has bad fashion sense. I personally like most the outfits I've seen shinichi wearing)

Having rewatched all the movies recently, I do have very strong opinions about what the anime/movie cast dress him in. Special mentions to whatever the heck he was wearing in Darkest Nightmare... to a day to the aquarium. Or the outfit he wore in London for the confession. That one is very high up on the terrible scale as well. In both color ways. What is that, Shinichi.

There is a reason fandom latched on to him wearing a turtleneck ONCE and made it a style for him, we were starved for decent fashion choices to draw him in. To me, Shinichi doesn't care much for fashion. He learned early that dressing formally is seen as being put together and then created his wardrobe around it. More than anything he has a uniform, clothes he wears repeatedly because they work for him. In most of his pre-Conan days, he wore his school uniform everywhere. It worked, was formal enough and he didn't have to spend energy on thinking about what to wear. And he translated that over to Conan with his blazer and bowtie. Less thought spent on what to wear means he can think about cases more.

The few times he looked decent when he took the antidote he wore Heiji's clothes (movie 7, the Shinigami case arc) so he gets zero style credit for those either.

Thank you Heiji.

And since I watched all the movies again recently I can also confidently say that Kaito dresses Shinichi better whenever he disguises as him too. The bar is very low and easily cleared. Example:

I also attribute most cute Conan outfits to Ran having bought them for him.

Personally, I see style as something more than just clothes. You can make any clothing look good by the way you wear it and how you sell it. Shinichi just doesn't care enough one way or another. Is he dressed and things are clean? Probably good enough for him.

#dcmk #kudo shinichi #it's okay to have a uniform dresscode #and I think there is nothing wrong with seeing clothes just as clothes #Shinichi just doesn't care #he complains all the time when he is dragged along to clothes shop with the firls as Conan too #firedemongaming

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flickering-nightfall · 11 months

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A karma flower sways gently in the dark~

#rain world #cooling down from working on 3D stuff by....... doing more 3D stuff #there is something bothering me about this model. You can't really see its details in this video since it's lower res #there's nothing WRONG with it but it bothers me anyways #I think I want some kind of shader on it #but I'm not sure what exactly. I know little about shaders in general #oh well. I just did this for fun anyways #and animating it was fun #wiggle bones didn't work well on this the way I set it up #...though it occurs to me I could have tried cloth physics! meh it looks fine anyways #I want to make an overseer and see if it works out on their cute lil arms #video #flickerdoodles

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bluastro-yellow · 5 months

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Harry and Kim are like Annette and Plaisance, like Cuno and Cunoesse, like René/Gaston and Gaston/René, like Steban and Ulixes, like Fuck the World and Pissf%%t, like-

#when you keep thinking about [thing] but have nothing coherent to say pt. 2 #there. maybe it will leave my mind now #or at least harry sees parts of himself on one side and parts of his relationship with kim on the other #everything is filtered trough the du bois lense #because he sees himself in the corpse (and lely) too and there's no kim in there (right?)#disco elysium #Annette's nose and cheecks are red from the cold.........#and she should be back in school like our ex gym teacher :'(#pointless microblogging #I keep making random connections and have no concrete way to back them up. welp #still haven't decided who's rene and whos gaston bc the uptight asshole who's inexplicably on the side of people who are racist against him #should be kim but harry can [spoiler for fascist run?] wear his clothes! and turn into a (crypto)fascist prick #(and I can see a better future kim write articles for some left wing thing. man he'll never do that will he)#(but that's just Vibes so I could be completely wrong)#last time my friend played I noticed it and also noticed that plaisance's sprite colors are similar to kim's (not the same tho)#queueue #my ''canon'' harry has incredible mirror neurons and is thinking about this too. harry's just like me fr moments #(but unlike Plaisance Kim is actually good for Harry!!! not saying that!#he just needs to realise that police work completely fucked over both of them)#(and isn't really helping anyone else)

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sttoru · 1 month

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sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk angst #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst

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