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blackpearlblast · 5 months

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[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]

@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.

This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.

The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.

I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.

#cosmo art #palestine strike art

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astro-rainbow777 · 7 days

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💐🌸 𝓣𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓾𝓼 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 🧸🌱

♉︎ - Happy Taurus Season Everyone!!! In honor of Taurus season, I am continuing the signs through the houses series. I hope y’all enjoy my findings & this post serves you well. Thanks so much for all of the support! Happy Spring & Upcoming Beltane to the Pagan Community <3

🌸 Taurus in the First House ~ Taurus on the ascendant is the embodiment of peace, calm and pleasure. These natives aren’t the most outgoing but leave such a comfortable and cozy first impression. They don’t say more than needs to be said, however they are unlikely to turn down a conversation. They have a soft and natural beauty about them and strong familial values. They enjoy the finer things, have a clean aesthetic and a “rich” aura. Many of them are shorter or more petitie in size, have a pleasing and smooth voice and kind eyes. However, if you mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns! Being on the opposing end of Scorpio, when they cut you off, it is completely. Good luck getting back into their lives because they are a closed book. Why y’all always smell good? Fr tho

🐂 Taurus in the Second House ~ Here the sign is in its ruling house, they do very well in saving their money, are picky about what they eat and indulge in the material pleasures of life. They value loyalty, commitment, stability and security - not to mention their love fashion & the arts. They will tell you they have the most exquisite taste, you would find it very difficult to change their mind. They hold up strong values and morales, what they know to be right and wrong is the truth. This is a very secure personality, they are very comfortable with their bodies, and have a healthy sense of worth and self love. Honestly such a healthy placement - as someone with NO earth in their chart - muhbenaaaace

💰 Taurus in the Third House ~ These natives find security and peace in their childhood homes, where they grew up, the memories of their cousins and siblings. They could be the most stable or the least stable out of their siblings. The way they think, learn and communicate is slow and methodical. They take their time in studying new topics, preferring to stay on the surface of a topic. They may have an artistic and beautiful singing voice, or maybe the way they speak is just very polite and sweet. They were raised with manners and this makes them very charming. They can have a liking for music that moves at a slower pace, classical music, or just a more elegant taste in art.

🥘 Taurus in the Fourth House ~ Their family could be a source of stability and security for them. The mom, mother figure or more feminine role model can be the bread winner in the family, her love language could be gifts, an amazing cook, and give a lot of hugs 🫂 They have stable emotions, it takes a lot to emotionally sway them. It may end up bothering people who try to get an emotional reaction from them because of this. They can be the most grounded one in their family. Their family may view them as realistic, practical and reliable. Family is what gives them sanction from the world.

💝 Taurus in the Fifth House ~ They express them selves in a very material type of way, their flex is their finances. These natives take a lot of pride in what they have...this usually comes from a place of having to work really hard for their things. They love the natural look, minimalist, they like long lasting, high quality, practical fashion. To them that is the best statement to make. They don’t like that trash to treasure look their tastes are refined. They will shower their kids with the finer things and really enjoy providing for them - this will be their love language. They aren’t huge adrenaline junkies and enjoy more grounded, chill hobbies. They definitely don’t mind being alone and love their down time at home…on the couch…snacks…naps…repeat.

🐻 Taurus in the 6th ~ These natives prefer a slow start to their daily routine, and enjoy a slow paced job, with chill yet organized coworkers. The workplace must be something that they don’t hate… because if they hate it and it stresses them out just thinking of going, they won’t work there. Period. They need low maintenance pets as these individuals are very independent in nature. It’s important for their day job to be a place of peace and pleasure for them, and once they are comfortable, it’s gonna be hard to get them to leave. Their job can provide them with sooooo much stability if they have a good one.

🍨 Taurus in the 7th ~ Wining and Dining with your loved ones! Shopping sprees, luxurious and high quality partners. With the ones they love the most, they spoil, eat and they just want to be lazy with them honestly. They want their relationships to be a place of peace for them. It’s important that their partner can support themselves and is stable on their own. It will just cause them stress if they are constantly worrying about having to take care or mommy their partner. It’s possible that they can stay with someone out of fear of the unknown/change, even tho they don’t like them or it’s not working anymore.

🌷 Taurus in the Eighth House ~ Cycles related to self esteem, self worth, and supporting themselves. Honestly, this is a really hard placement to have- they may have times where they stay in ab*sive relationships because they can’t support themselves financially or they are too uncomfortable alone. However, the eighth house is notorious for taking your greatest fear/weakness and turning it into their super power. You just have to get through those lessons and take those leaps of faith to unlock that power and hidden potential! They like to engage in their senses when they’re intimate with their partners and prefer slow love making rather than the raw primal stuff.

🪴 Taurus in the Ninth House ~ These people can be a little fixed in their beliefs, their spiritual beliefs/religion can be a source stability and sanction for them. If they aren’t necessarily spiritual- they could just have a specific philosophy or lifestyle that they stick to. What I admire about these individuals, is they know exactly what they want. When they travel, it has to be somewhere where they know exactly what to expect, somewhere that won’t give them anxiety, and probably a more luxurious staycation type of experience. They could also enjoy a nice nature walk with their loved ones.

👛 Taurus in the Tenth House ~ Every single person I have met with this placement neeeeeed a stable job, they will not leave a job if it provides them with the type of lifestyle they desire. It doesn’t really matter what they are doing for their career as long as it aligns with their values. Their dad/father figure could have been the sole provider and could have made a huge impact on their reputation. This is definitely a daddies money placement 💀 - sorry if that’s triggering for anyone lol. The father figure could be super down to earth and chill, enjoy cooking or just be way too overly indulgent in a negative manifestation.

👒 Taurus in the Eleventh House ~ Is the stay at home friend, doesn’t like to get out of their comfort zone to meet new people. Much likely to want to stay inside and bond with their community in a space that is familiar and inviting to them. Their community could be their sanction and be the most stable part of their lives. They enjoy cooking and creating art for their friends. Anything to bring peace to their homies senses! For their friends, the Taurus eleventh house native’s place is a home away from home. How special 🥹

👄 Taurus in the Twelfth House ~ When it comes to matters of the twelfth house, spirituality, isolation, ect. - these individuals may like to keep things light and on the surface. They are comfortable being alone, in fact they consider it to be comfortable and safe. Their spirituality isn’t something they spend time questioning, and they could be very comfortable with the unknown, they enjoy their own curious nature. They are endearing to their own selves, however sometimes their sense of worth could be confusing. They may have a hard time understanding their own values and morals, preferring to just go with the flow, everyday they are a new person trying on different personalities, hobbies and styles! The possibilities are endless! It’s quite an interesting placement. One more thing….secret indulgences…the silent snacker

Smell ya later!

#astro community #astrology #astrology signs #zodiac #spirituality #taurus #taurus rising #astrology observations #Taurus in the Houses

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aryana-thefairy · 11 months

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Astrology observations Part-2 🦋

🦋Capricorn sun / Capricorn rising, Virgo sun / Virgo rising are the real fashionistas of astrology. They are classic, timeless, effortless elegance. They might like light and dark academia, of course, old money aesthetic. The earth signs always look put together.

🦋The gaze of the Scorpio moon is intense, hypnotic and haunting. My god they see through you, they are human lie detectors. Trust me, they know when you are lying, they are just playing along. They constantly test their friends to check their loyalty.

🦋The rebellious Lilith is subtle in earth and water signs and intense in fire and air signs. A Virgo Lilith in the first house may like to flaunt her sexuality but also struggles to keep her image pristine and clean in front of others.

🦋Lilith in 2H is obsessed with their money and has the finest luxurious taste. They might struggle with eating too much or too little. Self-image can be a little foggy. Lilith in 1H has a sexy body and Lilith in 2H has a sexy face.

🦋Pluto in 12H gets visions and constant deja vu. If someone with Pluto in 12h tells me that I should be careful and that she saw me in her dreams. I would listen to her.

🦋Men with Libra moon are proper gentleman. Their manners and etiquette is on point. The way they express themselves is mature and precise. They are real crowd pleaser. Very well groomed.

🦋I believe Leo moon is a great indicator of fame. Because their innate desire is admiration and recognition. I kid you not, so many celebrities who are worldwide famous have Leo Moon. They can also be great writers and poets because they have the ability to express their deepest darkest feelings and turn them into art that others love.

🦋0 degree placement in your natal chart is powerful, It means you are the master of your own destiny and you write your own story. 0 degree Jupiter means you can decide how to create your own fortune.

🦋Neptune in 11H is so adorable. People are magnetised by them. They are the type of friend who frequently disappears and reappears but are always there for you when you need them.

🦋Cancer Rising has the potential to become chef.

🦋Scorpio or Aries Mars is a great indication of raw sex appeal. I feel this is pretty self-explanatory. Scorpio mars has that magnetic mystery and Aries mars are pretty dominant and fearless.

🦋 18-degree placement in your Sun is of great controversy. The reason is that some astrologers would say this is a hard placement because this indicates hardships in early life, Karma. Others would say this indicates immense power to get what they want and strong willpower. I think both are true statements. They face hardships in the early part of their life and they truly shine in the later part of their life.

🦋Venus in 8H may attract doomed relationships. They also attract partners who cheat on them. They derive happiness from their love life. Lots of emotional turmoil. But I have also seen people with this aspect who are in a happy and healthy relationship. They had a past of shitty relationships. These natives are seductive and sensual and hardly single. Maybe being single for a while would help them to understand people. They too are interested in the occult. Highly creative.

🦋Venus square ascendant are so attractive but they don’t see themselves as attractive. It's like they are unaware of their beauty. May lack confidence but I believe confidence is something that can be built with practice. Squares aren’t all bad. It leads you to sexual appeal.

🦋Venus conjuncts both Mars and Mercury. We get it. You have it all. Beauty + Brains + Charisma. The only reason people don’t like them is because they are jealous duh. These natives are a bit cocky. After all, they are the whole package.

🦋Jupiter in 5H can find success and make a fortune as writers. Highly creative. Communication skills are amazing. Harness your talent.

Disclaimer: Take what resonates with you. Personal observations are biased.

#astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astro placements #scorpio moon #capricorn rising #aries mars #lilith in the houses #pluto in 12th house #venus square ascendant #venus conjunct mars #astro chart #astrology posts #natal chart #astro community

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alphabetatoes · 20 days

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a.n.: can't stop won't stop thinking abt seeing nanami in his salaryman suit for the first time (also ty for 1000 followers !!!!)

c.w.: mdni, 18+

The first time Kento told you he’d gotten a job in the corporate world, you were a bit thrown by the news. It would be a complete change from his life working for the high school, although far less dangerous. And with that new job came a new look. Bangs that once draped over his face were trimmed into a 7/3 cut. The all black wardrobe in your shared closet gaining specks of color with button downs and ties introduced.

“Can you come to the living room real quick? I want to make sure my suit looks okay for the first day.” Kento calls you over from the kitchen.

He must’ve gotten it tailored. The way the suit hugs every inch of his body makes Kento look like a work of art. It’s hard not to stare when you have the son of Aphrodite standing in your living room. You’re left awestruck, practically drooling over his new appearance. “We need to talk.”

Kento raises a brow at your statement, confused as to the catalyst for it. He takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the couch. “Is it the hair? They told me it was the common cut for the workplace-” Kento rakes his hand over the fresh cut hair on his head, fingers combing through blond locks as he lifts it up.

“I want to talk to you,” You let your words linger, gazing over his new attire. “in the bedroom.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You grab his hand, making a beeline for the bedroom. You push him down on the bed and climb on top to straddle him. “Fuck, Ken.” Undoing his tie, you move it to drape around your neck. “You’ve always been attractive but this new look is… divine.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Kento’s ears tint red as he watches your hands make idle work of his shirt. The way his chest hair peeks out as you unbutton drives you wild. Once you’ve gotten the shirt unbuttoned, your hands explore the plane of his chest. “I think I’m obsessed.”

Shifting up to his neck, you let your fingers run through the soft hair of his undercut. Leaning down, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. As your hips grind against him, the fabric of Kento’s pants creates a pleasurable friction on your core.

You move off him for a moment, granting Kento access to shuffle off your leggings. Once they’ve been removed, you take the time to unbuckle his pants and free his aching cock.

Gentle hands guide you down on his cock, resting on your thighs once he’s bottomed out. “You always take me so well, sweetheart.” Kento pulls you back down to him with the tie, biting down on your bottom lip as he kisses into you. Riding him slowly, you melt into the kiss. Sweet and raw. The smell of sweat and sex tinge the air.

As you take him, you mutter sweet nothings in his ear. Kento elevates his hips, allowing his tip to nudge just where you need him to. And you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach as his hands guide your movements. A bubble about to burst. “Ken, ‘m close.” Warm walls clamp down on him and he knows he won't last much longer than you.

You hit that apex quickly. Shockwaves of pleasure roll over your body as you moan into his mouth. You collapse into him as he reaches his high, stuffing you full of his seed with a quiet grunt. "Did so good for me honey." His saccharine praises cause a pink blush to tint your tired cheeks.

Kento kisses the crown of your head, strong arms pulling you into him. He looks down at the disheveled state of his clothing, pants clearly marked with the slick of your release. “Y’know I’m probably gonna need to get the suit dry cleaned.” He smiles down at you, holding you tighter as you nuzzle into his chest.

“Is that an invitation to do this all again?” You mumble, tired eyes smiling up at him.

It's Kento's first day as a salaryman, and you decide to send him a little treat to soothe his nerves. You snap a photo of yourself baking in the kitchen, one of his ties once again draped around your neck. You send it to him and caption it ‘Serious Business.’. Kento’s phone pings and he slips off to the restroom to check it during his break.

He examines the image, how flour stains your cheeks and the tie is wrapped loosely around your neck. He curses to himself for being trapped at work rather than home with you. Half hard in the bathroom and palming himself to that sweet look of yours, praying his boner will disappear in time for his next meeting.

He can’t get home soon enough.

#jjk #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento smut

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marvelmymarvel · 11 months

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Not Special

Kakashi Hatake x NarutoMotherFigure!Reader

Synopsis: Before Naruto, you were a feared kunoichi who killed thousands before the age of 14. Naruto didn't know any of this, which is why you weren't anything special to him. But that all changes after the Hokage asks you to pick the sword up again to protect the village against an impending threat.

Naruto Masterlist: Here

“My mom isn't anyone special. She's just normal!”

Kakashi’s eyebrow shot up at that, eyes landing on the blonde as he talked adamantly to Sakura about how cool the other kid's parents were - and how uncool you were. He pursed his lips, fighting back the urge to spill the truth about you and your past, but he knew you wanted to keep it a secret. You weren't proud of it; it was much bloodier than his was. You gave it up for Naruto when he came along. Your time in the ninja world was short, yet many feared you.

All things Naruto didn't know.

But Kakashi couldn't stop his questions from coming out, wondering why Naruto saw you as a ‘weakling’ in the first place. “You say Y/n isn't special? How come?” Naruto stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowing at Kakashi. “Well, she’s not a shinobi, first off. Secondly, all she does nowadays is help out at the daycare-”

“So that makes her not special?”

“Come on Kakashi-Sensei. You know what I mean! She's just not as strong as we are… Ya know?”

The silence that hung in the air made Naruto shift on his feet, unnerved by his Sensei's sudden change in attitude. It was almost like he was challenging him to say another word. But Naruto knew better. “You don't know anything about who she was before you came along, Naruto….”

“Wasn’t she 14? Kakashi-Sensei, I’m not sure she could have done much damage by the time she had turned 14-”

“That's enough” Kakashi’s sharp tone had Naruto shutting his mouth from fear; he didn't know how or why, but his statement cut deep. Kakashi wished you would have told Naruto about your past, why you stopped fighting, and why you kept it hidden. He wouldn't have to continuously hear about how ‘weak’ you were if you had just told Naruto everything.

“Now, let's begin our mission, shall we?”

Days had passed since Naruto left for his mission with the rest of team 7. You made Kakashi promise to keep him safe, which allowed you to focus on other ways to help the community. You had just handed off the last toddler to their parent and headed into the daycare to clean up your room. A figure in the middle of the mess caused you to jump in your spot - “Lord third! You scared me.”

He hummed at that before leaning against a bookshelf, pipe in between his teeth as he took in the chaotic room. The Third Hokage was against the path you chose; he’d have you as his personal guard if it were his way. He respected your wishes and respected them for 12 years, but now, as the threat of an enemy loomed over the village, he was coming back to you with a new offer.

One you simply cannot refuse.

“It is quite a shame that you gave up the Jonnin life at 14. You were a fine student, almost, if not better than Kakashi was,” He started as he moved through the room, his old eyes scanning over the arts and crafts drying on the tables.

Your lips pursed at the sound of the Third Hokage’s words. You’ve heard this rant before; it was his specialty. He’d build you up with praise and acknowledgment, making you feel like you were the only person who could save the village before throwing an offer for you to return to the ninja life. You couldn't deny you missed it but didn't miss the blood. Didn't miss the death. Raising Naruto was more rewarding than killing hundreds of people for the village's sake.

Yet, you listened. Soaking up every word he told you as if you needed to hear them. He continued, recounting all of your successes before stopping to look at a particular picture on the wall. It was of you and your classroom, all in the picture, smiling. Did he want to do this? You sighed before bending down to pick up the toys on the floor.

“You don't just give praise without a request. Get on with it, Lord Third. I have a classroom to clean up.”

His eyes flicked to your figure. Your tone alone told him that your walls were up, and you wouldn't let him easily throw his suggestion over them. You would put up a fight, but maybe if he added Naruto into the mix, then you’d listen.

“You care about Naruto’s well-being, yes?”

Your body froze as your fingers hovered over a toy, your heart lurching in your throat as you braced yourself for this new approach. This was a sick, twisted way of getting what he wanted. He’s done this to you many times before, and while you know it's a trap, you always walk into it. You don't answer him, but your silence does.

“There's a threat looming over the village… I’ve gathered my best men, but I’m still missing the greatest one of all….” You sighed at that, eyebrows crinkling in pain as you felt the guilt creeping up your neck, practically strangling you with its cold bony fingers. “Naruto won't be safe if you can't help protect the village.”

There it was.

Your e/c eyes flicked to his as you stood up straight. He was right in a sick, twisted kind of way. If you were involved, the threat would be easily avoidable. But how would you tell Naruto? You never once told him how many you’ve saved and never how many you’ve butchered in the name of the leaf village. He didn't know of the nightmares you shared with Kakashi or the vomiting due to the stress your young body was under.

He didn't know any of it.

To him, you were just a daycare teacher. But to the village, to your Hokage, you were more.

“I would like you to join the ANBU. When the threat passes, I will let you decide if you want to stay in the ANBU or return to this lifestyle.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears, and you fought the panic in your chest. You’ve been on a couple of missions with the ANBU; they were more ruthless than you were. Your teary eyes drifted to the picture beside the Hokage, lip pursing as you took in the smiling faces of the children you cared for daily. It wasn't just about you or Naruto; it never was.

“What do you say?”

You looked back at him before nodding slowly, “I will join the ANBU, but once this is over. I will never be picking up a Kunai again.”

Naruto bounded back into the village as their mission got cut short. The news spread like wildfire that a threat was coming down on the village, and all ninjas had been requested to return for backup. He raced to the daycare despite Kakashi’s yells. He had to get you to safety. You were the only person he cared for the most in this entire world. If anything happened to you, he would lose himself.

Naruto screamed your name as he ran up to the daycare, flinging open the doors as he flew down the hall. The lights were off, and a cold breeze flew past him as his eyes landed on the sight of your daycare room. Bodies lay everywhere, causing his eyes to widen at the sight of the enemy ninja strewn along the floor with jagged stabs in their chests. He backed out of the room; breath growing labored as he thought through where you may be. Naruto wasn't thinking clearly as he flew out of the daycare building. He would have known that the trap was set just for him if he were thinking clearly.

And he walked right into it.

A bag was shoved over his face as he was tackled. He called out for help, kicking and screaming for the men to get off him. The sound of slicing filled the air, and warm liquid splattered all over him; bodies were shoved off him one by one. Before long, he had freed himself from the group and ripped off the face covering. The sight before him made him stare in awe - A female ANBU officer was slaughtering the ninja one by one without breaking a sweat. It was as if they were nothing to her, almost as if she could take a hundred of them all at once and never falter in her movements. Finally, her sword drove through the chest of the last remaining ninja.

Naruto’s mouth hung open as she ripped the sword from the man's chest, sighing as she looked down at herself. She was drenched with blood. It was on her uniform, on her mask, in her hair, on her hands. The only thing she could wipe off was her sword.

“Wow! That was, uh… Thank you”

Her head snapped to the side to look at him before she once more let out a sigh. She slid the blade against her pant leg, trying to wipe off the blood she had accumulated in the past couple of hours. She put the sword back in the sheath on her back before storming towards him; reaching down, she hauled him back onto his feet.

“Why are you here?! Where is Kakashi?!”

Naruto’s eyebrows furrowed at her words, the voice sounded familiar, but his brain refused to connect the dots. “You know Kakashi-Sensei? You’re starting to freak me out, lady.” The woman froze before him, realizing she had made a deadly error and there was no going back. She sighed before lifting her hand to her mask, “You can't tell anyone, Naruto.”

Naruto’s jaw dropped at the sight before him, “Hey… What the hell?!”

You shot a warning glare, silently scolding him for his language, but he didn't care. You were the ANBU lady??? The one he just saw brutally murder the 20 men lying around you. His eyes wandered around your face, brows crinkling in confusion as his brain caught up to the fact that you were in front of him, wearing an ANBU uniform and covered in blood. Lots and lots of blood.

“But, you’re not a shino-”

You sighed at his statement before he even finished, “A shinobi, yes I haven't been one for years” Naruto grew more confused at your confession. “For years? You were a shinobi before?” A small laugh flew from your lips as you face-palmed yourself. The blood on your hand smeared onto your face, making you cringe at the feeling and smell. Your heart started to race as you brought your hand from your face, eyes wide as you took in the crimson staining your skin. It made you feel sick; you didn't miss this at all.

“Didn't I tell you to stay by my side Naruto?” Naruto jumped at Kakashi’s words as he landed beside you, slowly approaching you as if not wanting to spook you. “God, I hate this, Kakashi,” you whined out as you tried to look away from the blood on your hands. Kakashi quickly wiped it away with a small rag, reassuring you that you were doing something good, even if it meant killing people. There had been many nights where he’d have to reassure you in such a manner. The guilt you felt drove you mad; in a way, you were thankful for Naruto, who gave you a way out.

“How many did you kill, Y/n?” Kakashi whispered as he looked around the daycare. He was trying to gauge how many angry men would come after you. “About 70”

Naruto gasped at the number, eyes widening as you turned into Kakashi. “So we should prepare for 100 more coming your way?”

You nodded as your lip quivered - “I don't want to kill them. I can't do it anymore. I’m so tired.”

Kakashi nodded before starting to take off your vest. If he could get you out of the recognizable outfit and away from the fighting, he could quickly finish off the 100 angry men for you. “I can handle them; it's fine-”

“70?!”

Your eyes shot to Naruto’s, and you froze at his awe-struck face. You didn't know if he was amazed or disgusted, but both reactions would have made your stomach churn all the same. Kakashi felt your sickness by the way you swayed in his arms, “Naruto, now is not the time-”

“I mean, how badass are you!? And you didn't even tell me?!?!”

Your eyes grew wide as you scanned the tree line for incoming intruders; suddenly, your fear-stricken face turned hard. Snatching up the mask from the ground, you shoved it on before drawing your sword. Kakashi held his breath. Your hearing was much sharper than his ever was. Before you knew it, 100 ninjas surrounded you three. You’ve fought more in one go; it was a simple task compared to other things you’ve had to do.

But doing it in front of Naruto made you falter.

Did you want him to see the beast inside of you? The beast you hid from him as best you could. You let him believe you were boring to conceal that you were a kunoichi feared by many nations. You killed many men without mercy because you were instructed to, just as a good soldier does.

One of the ninjas looked toward Naruto, causing you to jump into action. You screamed for Naruto to run before slicing your sword to kill them quickly before they could get their hands on him. Naruto, for once, listened and ran to hide behind the building wall, far enough from the fighting to stay safe but close enough to watch you fight through the group. Kakashi did help a little, but you did most of the work. He was amazed and felt slightly guilty at his previous assumptions about you being weak. The display before him was anything but weak.

Within minutes, you had thinned down the group until the last one remained. Naruto expected you to kill him, but you did something else entirely. Your fingers gripped the bleeding man's collar, ripping him up so he was face-to-face with your ANBU mask. “Who do you take directions from? Who was the leader of this attack??” Your words were icy and full of hatred, not full of the warmth and love Naruto was used to. A shiver ripped down his spine as he watched you cock your head at the spluttering man. “Who. Is. In. Charge.” your snarl made the man break as he screamed out the name of the person in charge of the entire thing. You scoffed at him before driving your sword slowly into his chest. It was deliberately pushed in at a location that would ensure a slow and painful death. It was then that Naruto realized this was the same ninja that looked his way at the beginning of the fight.

You ripped out your sword, letting the man fall to the ground as you watched him gasp for breath. Blood bubbled up from his throat before spewing from his mouth, he wouldn't die from internal bleeding, but he would die from drowning in the blood pooling in his lungs. Your head turned to the side, and while Naruto couldn't see your eyes, he knew your gaze was locked on him. You scared him and amazed him at the same time. He was amazed that you had taken down so many men without a worry in the world, but he was also scared at how fast you turned off your emotions when you went into killing mode.

You weren't the same. He didn't like this side of you.

A sigh flew from your lips as you read him like an open book. He was always so easy to see right through. You saw the fear radiating off him, causing you to drop your sword and rip off your mask as if trying to show him it was still you. That you were still the mom he loved so much.

That you were nothing special.

But that wasn't true anymore; at least the last part wasn't.

You stepped towards him, head cocking as he cowered behind the wall. “Naruto, honey, I won't hurt you.” He didn't budge, didn't dare to, as you walked closer to him. “You aren’t my mom. I don't know who you are, but-”

“You’re right. I’m not your mom,” you stated firmly as you dropped into a crouch feet away from him. He jumped in his spot, flying back as you startled him. You smiled at his jumpiness but knew that this reaction was warranted. His lips trembled at your statement, and you realized your mistake. “No, no, that's not what I meant. The mom you know is not the mom in front of you. The person standing in front of you is someone that hasn't existed for 12 years. Naruto, I hate this person more than you would ever know. I let this person go so I could raise you, and after tonight, she will never come back.” You moved to sit cross-legged before him, hoping the childlike position would reassure him that the one he was talking to was his mom.

The old you was far gone.

Naruto’s blue eyes flicked from you to Kakashi, who stood quietly behind you, hands in his pockets as if all this was old news. Because it was. Kakashi was the one that got you out of this mindset, and it silently terrified him just how easy it was for you to slip back into it. He knew he needed to bring it up later but now was not the time.

Seeing that his Sensei was calm and collected, Naruto nodded at your words before crawling towards you. Your eyebrows furrowed as he approached you, but they soon relaxed once you realized what he was doing. Naruto climbed into your lap, forcing your arms to wrap around him and cradle him in your embrace. You bit back a chuckle and pulled him in more, the blood smeared all over his clothes, but he didn't mind. He just needed to be reminded that you were his loving, carefree, warm-hearted mom. He didn't want a mom that was special. He didn't want a mom that was a renowned shinobi. He just wanted you. As you held him close, you decided then and there that you would never pick up a sword again, because caring for Naruto was more rewarding than wearing a mask and protecting the village.

And nothing would change that.

#Kakashi imagine #kakashi imagines #kakashi hatake imagine #kakashi hatake imagines #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto x reader

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joedirtymadre · 22 days

Note

How bout an angst and fluffy Luffy x reader? Like, he's trying his best to be a good boyfriend but he doesn't know exactly how do it. So he gets insecure and afraid of reader leaving him

The Painting

LUFFY X READER! ANGST + FLUFF! (STILL ACCEPTING REQUESTS! SEND EM RN! 😤😤)

You were peacefully working on a new painting. You had a strong passion for art, but recently you have decided to pick up painting again. Plus, today is a slow day on the ship, so why not? You hummed to yourself, as you continued to add the finishing touches to your work. “Wow, you really outdid yourself this time,” you smiled to yourself as you took a moment to look at your canvas. It was a portrait of the whole crew, you wanted to surprise everyone at dinner with it. You spent the last few weeks on it too, so I’m sure that they’ve been waiting for the reveal.

You then heard your door open and saw Luffy. “Hey Luffy,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N)! Hey can I hide here? I’m playing hide and seek with Usopp and Chopper,” he explained as he ran over and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Sure, but please don’t tip over my supplies. Last time you made a mess I spent 2 weeks cleaning it up,” you sighed. “I promise!” He said as he quickly jumped into your supply closet.

You continued your artwork, until you were disrupted again. You heard a small knock on the door and soon Chopper opened the door. “Hi Chopper, what brings you here?” You asked. “Hi (Y/N)! Have you seen Luffy?” He asked. “Hmmm… I haven’t sorry,” you smiled. “Hmmm… well can I look around your office? Just in case,” he said. “Go ahead,” you said as you continued painting.

Chopper checked under the table, in your art boxes, and was now heading to your closet. You lightly giggled as you knew your boyfriend was about to get caught. Chopper quickly opened the closet door, and out jumped Luffy. He began running around the small office, “Hey Luffy, this isn’t tag!” Chopper shouted as he chased him. “Now it is!” He yelled, as they circled around you. “Luffy be care-“ you were cut off by Luffy running into you. You fell straight into your paint, easel, and most importantly your painting.

The two boys quickly stopped and stared as you slowly picked yourself up and stared at the destroyed painting. Smudged and ripped, even your easel broke. “(Y-Y/N) I-“ you ran out before you could hear another word from your stupid boyfriend.

Luffy’s POV

I watched as (Y/N) ran off, I tried to chase after her but Chopper blocked me. “Wait! I think she should be alone right now Luffy, she might say something she doesn’t mean because of how she’s feeling. So, just give her some space,” he explained. “But I have to tell her I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to play,” I explained. “I know, but we messed up. Really bad, and she needs time to herself right now,” Chopper said. I grabbed my head in frustration.

I looked over to the destroyed painting and realized it was a painting of all of us. “This is what she’s been working on for weeks,” I said softly. “Oh no, and we ruined it!” Chopper cried. “No, I ruined it. I always ruin things for her,” I said as I picked up the painting. “That’s not true, she loves you Luffy,” Chopper said. I shook my head, “She deals with me, I keep doing dumb things and it always ends with me hurting her or breaking her stuff,” I sighed as I placed the canvas on her table.

“It’s ok Luffy, if she didn’t love you she wouldn’t be with you. Right?” Chopper asked. “I guess,” I said. “I’m gonna go check on her,” Chopper said before running out of the room. I sat on her stool and stared at the mess I made. “Why do I keep messing things up? Maybe… I should leave her alone, then she wouldn’t have to deal with me. She could tell me to leave her alone if we weren’t dating, like Nami,” I said to myself.

I dragged myself to the deck and straight to my spot, to try and think. “Hey Luffy,” Nami said as she sat on her beach chair. “Hey…” I said softly as I continued to drag myself. “What’s wrong? Did (Y/N) kick you out of her art room?” She laughed. “No,” I moped. “Woah, then what’s wrong? Here come take a seat,” she said as she pointed to the other beach chair.

I told her the whole story and ended up with 4 bumps on my head. “You idiot! How could you do that to her?” Nami frowned. “I know… Nami… has she ever talked about how much I mess up around her?” I asked. “(Y/N)? No, not really. She just tells me how fun and cute you are,” she explained. “Really? Even that time I broke her clay pot?” I asked. “Oh man, she was so mad that day, but no… Now that I think about it she didn’t talk bad about you,” Nami said. “What about the time I accidentally squeezed her paint tube too hard and it got all over her face?” I asked. “Nope, nothing,” she said. “Or when I dropped-“ I was cut off.

“Ok I get it, you’ve done a lot of bad things. But she’s never talked bad about you, I think she knows that mistakes happen… especially around you,” Nami pointed out. “But I really messed up this time, what if she wants to break up. She should break up with me… I keep making her mad or sad,” I sighed as I fell back into the chair. “Or… you could make it up to her. Come on captain, you’ve fought warlords and admirals. I’m sure you can fix this problem and make your girlfriend a little less mad at you,” she said. “You’re right! I can try and fix it!” I said excitedly. “But I’m gonna need help,” I said, determined.

Your POV

You’ve been in bed for the last 6 hours. Chopper and Nami checked up on you, but you had no strength to get up. You just need some time to calm down. Suddenly a knock on your door, you didn’t respond, hoping the person on the other side would think you’re asleep. However, the door slowly opened. You saw your idiot captain peek inside, “(Y/N)?” He called out.

“Go away Luffy, I don’t feel good right now,” you said as you turned around, showing your back to him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, really sorry… I know you’re really mad at me, but I wanted to make it up to you,” he said as he stepped close. “How?” You asked. “Can I show you?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You slowly turned around, seeing a distressed look on your usually careless boyfriend. “Sure,” you said calmly before getting up.

“But I need you to wear this,” he said, handing you a blindfold. You stared at it with one eyebrow raised. “Please?” He asked. You nodded and quickly put it over your eyes, you then felt a warm hand grab yours. “Alright hold on,” you heard, before being picked up in bridal style. “L-Luffy?” You asked, feeling your face heat up. “Well, I don’t want you to trip while being blindfolded, so I’ll just carry you,” he explained.

You then laid in his arms as he carried you to wherever it was that he wanted to show you. “Alright, I’m gonna put you down now,” he said softly before helping you down onto your feet. “Alright now on 3, take off your blindfold,” he said as he stepped away from you. “Ok,” you said.

“1,2,3,” he said, and you quickly took off the blindfold. You gasped at the scene in front of you. It was your art room, clean and way more organized than it was before. Also, your easel was fixed with a bunch of more upgrades to it, and finally your eyes fell to the painting on the easel. “My painting!” You said excitedly. You smiled as you saw the rough strokes and the taped backing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was way better than how it looked earlier.

“Did you do all of this?” You turned to ask Luffy. “I had some help, but I wanted to fix what I messed up earlier,” he explained. You ran over and gave him a kiss, “Thank you Luffy! I’m so happy,” you smiled and hugged him. “You’re not still mad?” He asked nervously. “Mad?” You asked, confused. “Well… I always mess up your crafts or art projects, I know how upset it makes you,” he said as he stared at the floor. “Well I do get a bit upset, but I know you don’t mean it. I just give myself some time alone so I don’t say anything that I might regret later,” you explained. “Wow, Chopper was right,” he said.

“But I’m really sorry I messed up your painting, I know how hard you worked on it,” he said, before pulling you into a hug. “It’s ok, I forgive you. Just next time, no more games in my art room, ok?” You asked. “Deal,” he smiled. “Oh, I made you something,” he said, pulling away. “Huh?” You asked. He grabbed a small canvas from the table and turned to show you.

You pouted when you realized it was a portrait of you and him. “I know it’s not that good, but-“ you interrupted him. “It’s perfect! I’ll hang it up right now!” You said as you pulled him into a hug. “Really?” He said excitedly. “Yeah, and we should paint together sometime, you’re a natural,” you smiled, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You think so? I did have fun doing this,” he grinned. “Mhmm!” You nodded and you both went to hang his masterpiece on your wall.

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randombush3 · 9 months

Text

falling (for you)

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: despite your precision on the pitch, you are somehow the clumsiest person ever when you are off it. your girlfriend doesn’t really mind though.

Words: 1539

Notes: kicking off the woso x reader fics with my fav obvs xx (and still pretending she didn’t leave utd)

Requested!!!

You stare at the shattered bowl in shock.

You hadn’t meant to drop it, and really it’s all the stupid rug’s fault for catching your toes and sliding on the hardwood floor. The pool of soup drowning the smashed ceramic makes you gulp, wondering what your girlfriend will say when she sees the mess you have created.

Bending down to inspect the damage properly, you lean towards the vegetable chunks swimming in what was supposed to be your lunch. The rug is ruined, that’s for sure. And, despite your athleticism, your legs creak at the position and you begin to wobble. Heading straight into the—

“Uh oh.” The only other person in this apartment has found you at the right time, pulling on your t-shirt to keep you from face-planting into the dangerous soup/bowl combination. “What happened?”

Ona laughs softly as you startle, gripping onto you harder as you almost lose your balance again. You stand, deciding it’s safer to be upright. “I dropped my soup. The rug was in the way.”

“Mi amor, most people can walk on the rug without creating abstract art all over it.” You tilt your head, hoping the splodge of brown liquid might actually complement the design. “I will help you clean.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, familiar with these words by now. However, your girlfriend, with her beautifully forgiving nature, places a finger to your lips, shushing you from rambling another hurried apology about wrecking some part of your shared home. Yesterday, it was walking into a shut door while carrying her. The day before, it was knocking the chess pieces off the board when you reached for your drink.

Ona’s love for you only grows with each clumsy mishap, though she has to frequently defend herself against Tooney’s teasing for that fact because of it. She wouldn’t change you for the world, even if you are more accident-prone than Alessia, who is infamous for that exact aspect of her personality.

…

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Leila mutters in Spanish to her friend as Manchester City crowd the Reds’ box, fighting for a goal in today’s derby. Ona glances at you, momentarily distracted from her mission to not concede. You have your hand pressed firmly against the back of a City player, your slight nudges bordering on punishable shoving.

Leila, though not usually needing to meet you on the pitch, has been tackled by you a fair bit this game. It’s no secret that you are a fierce defender. Your slide tackles are clean cut like the sharp edges of knives Ona would never let you hold, and your challenges are strong and determined and… the opposite of the lumbering person you are without a ball at your feet.

Once more, Ona is baffled by this phenomenon as you clear the ball to the feet of Russo, who sets off on the counter attack with a vicious pace. Having been instructed to press high this match, you take advantage of your slightly advanced knowledge of where the ball is, and chase after the forward, shouting at her to pass when there is a clear space for you on the left wing.

Less looks up and feigns right, the defender in front of her lunging in the same direction. Well into the eighteen yard box, she can see the goal ahead. Your continued call for the ball makes her believe you’re unmarked and in a better position to shoot. She knows you played up front in your old club.

What she doesn’t see is Leila, who you can’t seem to shake this game, stuck to your side, ready to poke her foot into the pinging pass you have just been sent. It’s a guaranteed interception.

Or is it?

Because you pull the ball back from her reach skilfully, and it sticks to your feet as you dribble towards an even better angle to kick the ball into the back of the net. In fact, Leila audibly gasps as you nutmeg her, your shoulder holding a strong foundation against the other defenders trying to get the ball off you. It must be, what? Three to one? And you’re winning.

You beat the confused goalkeeper, who has had to come out further than she’d hoped to help her defenders as they fail to do their jobs, and it’s an easy shot to help the ball find home in the other team’s goal. Half of the crowd erupts into elated cheers. The others sit back, shocked.

Your team, who had pulled out of the box to allow you the space to dribble, surge towards you as you watch the net ripple — white against the sea of red behind it. They shout in your ear, patting your back, squashing you with hugs as you catapult Manchester United into the lead. Only Ona catches your subtle trip as your studs catch the turf cumbersomely when you are walking back to your position for the game to restart. She can’t help the smile on her face from growing three sizes.

…

The POM award in one hand, and Ona’s in the other, you giddily skip to the changing room after the match, recounting each minute as though the defender hadn’t played alongside you.

“It felt so good to score again!” you squeal with excitement, still running off the adrenaline from your goal. “Like, obviously defence is gratifying in its own way, and I’m happy to play there because it clicks better with the team, but, Ona, scoring? Scoring gets the crowd to go mental. And at one of the most important games! You should have seen me, babe. I was on some next-level Brazilian fire.”

“I did see you,” Ona replies, tugging you closer so she can wrap her arm around your shoulders. Your boots clack against the hard floor in the tunnel, but the satisfying sound is drowned out as you continue to ramble.

Until you slip, your studs gliding across a shiny patch on the floor.

Ona jumps in surprise, but she manages to grab ahold of you to keep you upright.

You laugh it off together, though Ona is aware of the blush dusting your cheeks and does you a favour by asking the social media manager not to post the video she (un)fortunately took of the whole situation on the team Instagram.

As you make your way into the changing room, Ona turns to the giggling woman, holding in her own grin. “Can you send that to me?” she asks with a wink. “For the memories.”

“Definitely,” she replies.

…

Ona falls deeper in love with you when she receives it later that night, watching the video and chuckling quietly to herself as you sleep nestled into her side.

“I’m a beast,” you murmur, lips pressed into her neck. Your hot breath against her skin causes her stomach to flutter, and she shifts, offended that you have let her believe you were asleep the whole time. She’s been rewatching the video over and over for the past five minutes.

“You are clumsy.” You sit up, though the swiftness of your movement is ruined as your hand catches in a folded part of the duvet, getting stuck as you attempt to implement a distance between yourself and your girlfriend. “See.”

Her arms fold over her chest as you formulate a response that isn’t flipping her off and scrambling back on top of her.

“I’m a beast in the sheets and clumsy on the streets?” you try, but she only raises her eyebrows.

“You fell off the bed the last time we—”

“Pitch doesn’t rhyme with streets!” you interrupt, trying to defend yourself. “And, if I remember correctly, you were more than happy to continue on the floor. So who’s falling now?”

Your Spanish girlfriend looks at you, puzzled. Lost in translation.

“The girls keep saying that I’m falling for you.” Her eyebrows remain knitted together in confusion. “Baby, as in ‘falling in love’. Estoy enamorada de ti.”

“Que mona,” she giggles, squishing your cheeks together. “Your pronunciation is improving. Finally.” Your cheeks burn red, though Ona cannot see that in the darkness of your bedroom.

“My teacher works slowly because she likes it a little too much when I start speaking Spanish to her,” you tease. “I’ve had to get Lucia to help me out. Te quiero mucho, Onita. See!”

“Perfecto,” she replies with a smile, happy to take whatever allusion to a Spanish accent you can produce. But you’re not silly. Her eyes have squinted like they do when she is trying to suppress her laughter. “No, es la verdad, es la verdad,” she splutters as you hold her gaze, unimpressed.

“You liar,” you grumble, reaching over to prod her in the stomach with your index finger.

It isn’t a surprise when you misjudge the space you have on the bed, hitting the ground with a thud. Ona doesn’t try to keep quiet about how funny she finds that, but she pulls you up despite her shoulders shaking from her guffaws.

“Estoy enamorada de ti también,” she gets out between her gasps for breath, kissing away your frown as you try to come back from the embarrassment. “And I love how you fall in love with me.”

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso

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blingblong55 · 9 months

Text

Model- 141+ König NSFW

Based on requests:

1.OKAY BUT 141+KÖNIG WITH A READER THAT DOES DIGITAL ART🏃‍♂️ 2.Can you write about TF141+König with an S/O what draws, animates, etc? I was thinking more digital art, but traditional is cool too. If you only wanna do one character, can it be Ghost? Thank you!

GN!reader, digital artist/painter!reader, established!relationship, civilian!reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, Sub!Male, Dom!reader

A/N: Some will be short...and you'll definitely notice who is my favourite on this one

As someone with the talent and skills to create art with your hands and a clean canvas, you always find yourself looking for a model. Thankfully, he is there now, in that position, just for you.

Price:

You mentioned before that you needed a model to help you with proportions for your art. Your strong and bulky boyfriend decided to be just the right model you needed. For months you and him work late at night, and he props himself up for you, wearing whatever you need to bring your ideas to life. The people who buy said art always admire how realistic your art looks, and how no other artist does what you do. And it's all thanks to him.

At the moment, he is on the sofa, dressed in a black suit, a collar around his neck, eyes looking at you, pleading for you. "Stay still, I have to get this angle." You sketch his body onto the canvas of your tablet. You had been teasing him since he woke up, vibrator to his sensitive cock. You had tied him up before this session, mainly because he kept touching himself for some release. Now, staying still and obeying was his punishment. And for him, it was the worst one so far.

"How...much...more...please..need-.." he said in between whimpers and moans. You approach, looking at him, taking in how needy he was being. You get down on your knees, and he moves a little only to find you sketching this position. He whines and closes his eyes, whimpers getting louder by the second. "Stay still or do I have to teach you another lesson?" The masochist in him wanted to be taught a lesson, "Please..please do" You grin, and slap his face lightly causing him to whimper in response. "Don't make any noise, I'm busy.." For an hour, he stayed still, cumming from just the way you teased and looked at him. For sure, this site would end up in someone's dungeon.

Gaz:

When he and you started to get more intimate and he'd make you look at what you and he were doing through the mirror, that's when you knew he had to be the model you'd use for your creations. It took time to mould him into who he is for you but it was all so worth it. Currently, he is leashed to your canvas' stand. Looking up at you, the bite marks and hickeys you had done hours prior still worn proudly on his neck. He was wearing nothing but the collar on his neck and the fishnets you made him wear. His face is slightly red from the heated makeout session you two had since he was a good boy for you.

Your paintbrushes colouring the canvas in front of you, he looked up at you. How sexy you looked when you were so focused on your art. You know he likes it when others watch as you fuck him. How well you can ride and how well he can listen to you. So, you brought a mirror into the art studio. Made him look at his reflection as you ride him, each time he would ruin a line in your art, it was another slap to his already abused face. Tears ran down his cheeks but a wide smile as he enjoyed the thought of how others would look at the canvas and see a moment where you once more made him yours.

Paintbrushes used to mess with his already-hardened nipples. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to go faster, but you resisted, not wanting to ruin the creation you were making. Some paint smudged to his chest, your hand prints on them when you'd get carried away and ride him faster.

Soap:

He was the one who offered himself up, wanting to please you not just physically but visually. You had made him wear his kilt, war paint on as he spread his legs open for you. Hands in between his thighs, he leans forward, looking up at you with puppy eyes. You had been working with him in this position for too long now and all he needed was just some attention, physically. You knew you wanted this painting to feel more personal, needed a touch of yourself and him in it. So, you picked out the paints that were safe for the next activity you had in mind. You laid the cloth of a canvas on the floor and commanded him to go to it and get on his knees to wait for you.

Poured some of the safe paint on his chest, and you and he began to make out. The cloth filled with paint, art made from your bodies. By the time you and him were done paint was all over your bodies. He requested, as a reward, that you and him take a shower and if you wanted, he could also pose for you in the shower.

Ghost:

He loves to be your sub so when you mentioned that you needed a model for your art, he wanted to be the subject of all your attention. Currently, you have him tied up with leather ropes. A cock ring on him as you paint his position. He looks up at you with puppy eyes, his mask lifted only far up for you to see his lips. Every now and then, he closes his legs to get some friction, only to have his inner thighs spanked by you. He whimpers a little, asking for forgiveness since he knows what you will do to him after you are finished painting this position.

He looks at you, doe-eyed. "Please, please just touch me...just once." But you ignore his pleas. He shuts his eyes and begins to think of how you would touch him. That was the only way he could find some release while he was tied up. You look at the canvas, paint and figures finally making sense, and then you hear his loud moans and cries of pleasure. He was cumming at the thought of you, no one around to touch him, just his mind playing for him.

His whimpers were louder as he couldn't stop cumming, it all leaked everywhere, spurting out as he bucked his hips. "Oh...yes...oh..mmm." he moans. Leather leaking his own mess as you watched with a pleased smile.

König:

It all started with asking him for help in a position you weren't quite sure you knew how it worked or looked. He offered to help and now months later, he has become the man you please and base your art on. Tonight, you had a sudden idea, a man in a suit, touching himself as he wore some rather rougher ropes around his suit. König, is never opposed to the idea, he loves to listen to you and if he knows he can please you this way, then as your good submissive boy, he will obey. The tie he was wearing was now used as a choker that you pull any time he moans too loud.

When you finish sketching his position he looks at you, brows furrowed. "Can I please be touched now? I was a good boy...please" his voice soft, whimpers low. You stand up, the pen which you used to sketch his position in hand. You trail the cold pen along his skin, reaching his sensitive parts. He begins to move his hips, hoping you could go faster, to touch him sooner. Your hands are on his hip when his already hardened cock begins to throb, pre cum leaking as he looks at you. "Meine liebe, I'm so..." he moans. "I'm your messy boy..." he whimpers.

A/N: Maybe this was not part of the request...but a girl has her own needs...anyway..bye

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pursuitseternal · 2 months

Text

“Dark Kissing:” 🫦 nsfw, making a Vampire Bride in “Our Blood is Thicker:”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 2.6K of the Nsfw Dark Kiss

Art by co-creator and illustrator @marimosalad , NSFW version on X

Summary: Cordehelia rouses herself to feed, but the Dark Kiss is far more dangerous than merely awakening. She must be checked, subdued, brought under control by her love and creator by any means necessary

CW: Rough Sex turns Romantic, blood kink, hair pulling, Feral Vampires getting freaky, The Knee™️, (lovingly) Dom!Ascended Astarion, my interpretation of Van Richten’s “Guide to Vampires” 2e, heartbeat kink, nothing like feral sex followed by soft cuddling aftercare

Previous Ch | ao3 Link | Masterlist

Chapter 19: Dark Kissing…

🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦

“Astarion…” she purred, voice thickened with his blood, a bit strange on her tongue, as if she savored every letter in his name.

But that strangeness hardly registered, his body winding tight with lust as he looked into her own crimson eyes, as her lips drank him down for the first time. He could feel himself inside her, coursing in her veins, pumping in her whole body, not just that sweet, slick channel he longed to fuck into once more. Something deep inside him unlocked, robust and powerful and all consuming.

Blood ran down her chin, a sight that made his every breath race from his slack-mouthed, fang-licking grin. Her lips were cool on his wrist, warming hotter the more of him she drank. “Oh, my love,” he groaned, slinking to straddle her prone body between his thighs. “I could watch you swallow me down for hours…”

“You have, my love,” she chuckled, thick and deep in her chest as she hardly broke from his flesh.

A flash filled his mind, stronger than their tadpoles, their bodies and minds and souls as one. It was as if he relived every time she had sucked his cock, tasting himself on her tongue, feeling the way her throat closed with all the cum he spewed countless times over countless years. Instantly, his cock strained again against his leathers, that claustrophobic feeling of clothing suffocating his ever-growing desire.

His need to have her.

And yet she drank more. Until his skin began to tear, his head growing slightly light. “Enough, Cordehlia,” he whispered, a grind of his hips above her, his wrist freeing from her mouth.

Only to be ripped back by her fiercely strong grip once more. “But you taste so good, my love,” she crooned, “and I am just so hungry.”

Astarion recalled all that reading, gritting his teeth as he pulled against her, fought against the way both her hands clawed into his arm. “You will listen to me,” he ordered. Louder. “You must stop, or else you will die.”

Her voice made him shiver, unnatural and dark. “I think that’s already happened, hasn’t it?” One last musical laugh from her bloodstained lips, and she sank her newborn fangs into his forearm to feed all the more.

A growl on his lips, Astarion dug deep into whatever new well of power, of strength lay inside him. Never mind the way his heart actually began to rap harder in his chest, in lust and in fear. “You will listen to me, Cordehlia,” he hissed through clenched fangs. Wrestling his arm from her mouth, he felt every muscle in her body move to attack, ready to spring. Wanting more. “Ah, ah,” he smiled, darkly, determinedly. Catching her hands, he pinned them over her head, staying them with all the strength he could find, even as she thrashed and kicked and snapped her teeth. “Little Raven, I promised you I would save you, now you have to trust me just a little further. You are still being remade, turning into something so beautiful, so fierce I can hardly believe it. Why don’t we try a little something else to busy your lips and tongue with, hmm?”

A roar from her mouth, she bucked him off, sending him clean off the bed. Astarion braced himself against the wall, feeling less dizzy and stronger the less she drank. Somehow, his body knew what to do, more than that which was just between lovers. He knew he had to subdue her, keep her safe, lest she endanger herself.

A duck of his head, and he dove out of her tackle. Wild and crazed with bloodlust, she might be, but all that grace was yet to come back to her. He gripped her by the back of her shirt, his fingers easily tearing through that linen, baring her even paler flesh for him to see at last. “Come on, Cordehlia,” he laughed as she turned, eyes narrowed and breasts heaving with her pants, “you used to put up a better fight as a girl.”

Yes…. She took the bait, racing for him blindly, only to be shoved from behind and laid flat out on the floor at the foot of the bed. She froze for that moment, wind knocked out of her, even though her undead lungs required none of that now. He needed to finish this, needed to subdue her in more than one way. His hands ran down her back, lightly tracing over the bumps of her spine. “I’m going to strip you, my darling, going to take your mind off that pit in your stomach. You hunger, and I can sense how painful it is, my love. Let me ease that pain.”

“Want me… to say please?” She panted, breathless as she gasped for air.

“If you’d like, my darling…” he wasted no second of his advantage, shimmying down her trousers, ripping them like paper with such ease in his new and powerful hands.

“Fuck you, Astarion,” she grunted trying to get up, but he just covered her backside with his whole body and grabbed for her hands again to capture them against the floor.

“That is the idea, my love,” he tried to chuckle, the same jibe as they had made many times before. But never like this. Never with every instinct in his ascendant brain screaming at him to claim her and finish the task at hand. He settled heavily on her back, pushing her as hard as he could into the ground to keep her steady, her two cold hands in one of his, he tugged off his shirt and freeded the laces of his breeches.

But for all the pounding drumming in his head that could have blinded him, he looked down at her. Pinned, subdued, ready and panting and sweating.

He didn’t see some creation half-made. Didn’t see a servant or slave for his use.

It was her, addled and unsure and newborn. Lusty and scared. And he tried to slow that reborn and foreign beating in his chest.

“Cordehlia,” he leaned forward, tracing the pad of his tongue up her chilled, pointed ear. “My sweet, I’ve got you.”

Still she fought, twitching and jerking under his hold, but his hands rested on each of hers to slide them next to that mess of fiery red hair. He could see her breathing so hard as her skin pulled between her ribs. She needed calming, claiming… he suckled on that cool right ear, forcing the urge to bite into her flesh again back into his stomach. Something inside her purred, her voice maybe, her soul perhaps. But whatever it was, he did it again. And again. Suckling on the edges of her ear as it twitched. Feeling her flesh mildly warm now with his blood flooding her and her lust taking command.

Her breathing grew softer, steadier and less frantic, he sensed her rising heat, smelled the way slick began to gather between her folds. His cock jolted to feel her begin to buck beneath him, almost grinding against the floor as her hunger traveled below her belly to simmer lower and stronger. Shifting carefully if quickly, his knees spread her wider, his sharp ears hearing her arousal dripping to the wood beneath them.

The way she raised her hips ever so slightly as he slipped between her thighs drew some kind of noise from his throat. Feral. Hungry. He loved it, laying his whole length down to cover her head to toe. Her skin was cold, a strange shiver raced down his spine as he pressed her into the floor. As he pushed her apart, letting his cock slip in so naturally, so slowly, finding that wet and tight warmth he craved more than air.

A low purr seemed to sound from her, her back arching against his chest. She hissed, a little roll of her hips, pleading for more of him. raising herself against him, she wriggled his cock deeper, bracing for his thrusts to begin. “Please, Astarion,” she breathed, voice honey-thick in her throat, “you wouldn’t leave your Bride unsatisfied, would you?”

Bride. At the word, he groaned loudly, fangs wet as he smiled, shoving his cock deeper inside as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. “Never, my darling,” he rasped. Another guttural noise, and he released one hand from hers, wrapping that length of bright fiery hair around his hand once… twice, and yanking her head back slightly. “You are mine forever now, my love until the stars fall down.”

Warm lips pressed against the cool ivory of her neck, careful to keep his teeth covered, lest he stir awake her bloodlust again. But Cordehlia wasted no time, slamming and wriggling her cunt against his cock, easing forward to easy back again.

A hiss rushed from his mouth against her skin each time she dared to move. Finally, he rocked into her ever so slightly, letting his cock sink all the way into her, letting that aching, pulsing head brush against that edge of her channel. Curling, she snapped her hips hard against him, stealing his breath.

Another snap, and he groaned, that insatiable hunger for her growing unbearable. That reality of his freedom, his power starting to course in his veins as she bucked back against him with even more fervor. “You’re an eager little thing,” he sighed, running his tongue over the scars on her neck, taking her ear into the warm, wet of his mouth once more. “I like you this eager,” whispering, he savored the way she shuddered beneath him.

“Then give me some of your own eagerness back, won’t you? I would hate to do all the work for you… my lord…”

Enough of coyness and carefulness he decided as he grasped her head, pulling her mouth to his to assume control. He needed her on his tongue again, needed to devour and consume and dance with her lips as they had a thousand times. “I love you,” his words breathed between her lips as he sucked more of her with each kiss. “I never want to do this with anyone but you ever again.”

A wish he had made once, so long ago under the elven forest and stars.

He could almost smell the woods near their homes, almost hear that babbling stream and feel the moss beneath them as every sinew sought the release they both craved. Thrust after thrust, he could feel her pressure rising, the way her thighs began to shake, her mouth panting and sighing heavily against his open lips. He could taste himself on her tongue yet, that rich iron, that tingling sensation of power, the same that raced down his nerves… and just like that, he knew she was about to seek more of him.

Drink more of him.

A yank of her hair in that fist, and he pulled her off his flesh just as her own razor-fangs snapped shut. “Tch, naughty, my bride,” he teased. A trail of caresses down her spine, and he raised himself. One hand rested on her shoulders, hair tugged just tight enough, he slipped his warming touch around her hips. Her clit was hard, aching and easy to find, and it was so simple to circle it. To make her moan for him, to raise her ass up just that little bit higher and take him all the deeper. To angle himself as he slammed into that spot inside that he knew better than she did herself.

He chewed into his own lip, clenching hard but not to draw blood. No, he needed her sated. Pleasured. Flooded with the bliss they shared now.

Lord and Bride.

Maker and beautiful creation.

Her pleasure tore into him, every muscle that clenched around him pounded as if his own. Her voice cried his name, that she loved him… her sweet words panted over and over again as she crumbled to the floor, boneless, bloodless, hot, and writhing.

Slowly, he pulled out, turning her on her back, longing more than anything to see her smile. Radiant, breathtaking, her breasts heaved as she caught her wind, her hair streaked over her damp and sweating face, and most beautifully, she smiled at him through her bliss. Her little fangs peeked beneath her rosy lips, her tongue wetting her mouth as she pulled those fiery, loose strands from her cheeks and chin.

Reverently, his own hands helped to clear her forehead, strand by precious strand. Laying his body atop hers, a groan slipped from his lips as she raised her hips to slot his cock back into her seeping, wet folds. He breathed her name, believing for the first time that she was with him again, saved.

Now made of one flesh.

Sharing one blood.

A blood that ran hot and thick forever between them.

He couldn’t hold her close enough, couldn’t thrust into her smoothly or deeply enough. He couldn’t taste enough of her on his tongue or feel her slightly chilled breath sweep into his own lung in any amount that would satisfy. His fingers gripped against the back of her head, weaving tightly again into that mess of her locks, the other wrapped firmly around her breast, the hard, cool nipple pressing into his palm like stone as he gripped it, as it swayed in time with his taking of her.

That tether between their bodies, that bond between their minds, something within them snapped taut, his heart beating in her chest, his very essence hers too. Every sensation between their bodies doubled, coursing harder as he drove her to the edge of her climax, thrown there himself as her side. She clawed at his back of ancient scars, body arching and trembling as she groaned her love for him again.

And this time, he followed, pouring every last bit of himself into her, making and remaking her anew. His cock shuddered, jolt after jolt of pleasure bursting from his core into hers. Seed seeped, hot and slick and mixed into one as he lowered himself into her arms.

Nestled into that bloodied crook of her neck, he could do nothing but breathe, forcing his eyes to remain open, to assure himself that this was it. That it was done.

That every little bit of trust she had put in him was replaced tenfold. And would be repaid again for the rest of their immortal lives.

Touch ghosting up and down his back, she smiled against his forehead, lips pressing their strange, cool kiss just beneath the edge of his curls. “I love you…” she whispered, almost imperceptible. Almost inside her own mind.

With a grunt of effort, he slipped from inside her, a tender kiss on her lips before he reached up and over the top of the bed to grab for the blood red covers. The heavy fabric fluttered as he draped it over them both, as his hands tucked it around her shoulders, her back. “I love you, my darling…” he kissed her cheek, “my consort…” he kissed her forehead before staring softly into those searching, crimson eyes, “…my bride.”

Astarion pulled her into his chest, rolling her to rest against his warm flesh and racing heart. “Rest, my love, we have eternity to make up for lost time now.”

His hands traced through the softness of the blanket, and his warmth seeped into her skin. She wouldn’t let it out from her lips just yet, how strange it was now to be the one corpse-cold, to be the lover to seek the warmth of her love. But as she nuzzled closer into that perfect dip in the muscles of his chest, she smiled.

A tear leaked from her eye.

To hear that ancient pattern of his heart beating beneath her ear again.

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plutosunshine · 1 year

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How to improve your self-esteem?

Venus in the houses

Venus is our self-esteem and values. The house Venus sits in can show us hints on how to help ourselves to build healthy strong self-esteem. Let’s go!

Venus in the 1st house

Of course, the main key here is your appearance. I don’t mean that you must be always gorgeous and pretty. However, it is very important for you to feel that you fit at least your standards. Hair and make-up play a big role. You feel more confident when you like your look. NB!! Not others, but you! Also, your self-esteem grows when you socialize and show your identity in group settings. Don’t hide all the gorgeous talents you have! You MUST show them to the world. Be assertive when it is necessary because achieving goals and being the best is the number one key to your self-confidence. One more thing: aesthetics. Since Venus is in the first house, which makes this planet rising, that means that the qualities of Venus are important to express as well. Aesthetics, art, beautiful things, music, poetry, acting, and everything where you can show your talents. Also, although the first house is ME and my identity, Venus requires peace and balance. It is not easy, but you have to find a balance between showing yourself and being on the same wavelength as others.

Venus in the 2nd house

Here Venus is in its own house. Meaning that the themes of this house are emphasized. Your self-esteem improves when you feel safe and all is set: you have a nice place to live, you have a good salary, and your surroundings are harmonious. Defining your values helps to gain self-confidence. It is totally okay to express your material desires. They make your self-esteem improve. This is the essence of the 2nd house. Save money to have a backup but don’t be strict with yourself. If you really want something, just get it! The key to your self-esteem is your well-being. When you are fed well, dressed well, and generally feel good, you are confident. Any aesthetic activity that makes you feel calm and satisfied is good. Art and other creative areas also may help you because it develops your sense of beauty and allows you to express your talents.

Venus in the 3rd house

Your self-esteem is growing when you feel that you are an interesting companion. The worst nightmare is when people call you boring. That is why sometimes you are trying too hard to attract attention. However, it is only because of your insecurities. I think the key here is to allow yourself to be outgoing and funny personality which you are. Express your interest in communication and exploration. Your self-esteem improves when you feel knowledgeable. You need to constantly receive and share some interesting information. Also, learning something will increase your self-esteem as well. It can be anything: from cooking to science. You just need new knowledge to feel your self-worth and it is okay because it is the way your Venus feels at home. Don’t be afraid to show your knowledge, and make new friends and connections. Also, writing is very good for you. For example, you can express your feelings on paper. It might help you to build a strong relationship with yourself.

Venus in the 4th house

Your self-esteem improves when you are in touch with your emotions and your subconscious needs are met. It is very important not to suppress emotions and feelings. Also, helping and understanding make you feel needed. Sometimes it is not so good thing to seek this feeling, but for Venus in the 4th house supporting and helping someone is beneficial. Every field and place where you can express your ability to FEEL will be useful. For example, psychology, astrology, volunteering, etc. Also, as you know, the 4th house = home. Meaning that you MUST have your own safe place to restore your energy resources. Decorating and cleaning are helpful for your Venus because on a subconscious level you perceive this home as welcoming and safe.

Venus in the 5th house

One word — self-expression. As simple as that, your self-esteem improves when you express yourself and your talents. If you don’t show your creativity, it will grow inside you and turn into poison. So it is so important to express that! Even if you think that the idea is stupid, please just try! Because it is not only about the result but also about the process. Also, showing others your warm and generous side will help your Venus a lot. Be yourself and don’t hide even weird and unusual sides of you because it is still you. Love yourself and respect your desires, enjoy life, and be optimistic about the world! Also, your self-esteem improves when you are the best at something. It shouldn’t be something great, it can be just a little thing that is only yours.

Venus in the 6th house

Your self-esteem improves when you build your plans and fulfill them. Yes, the 6th house here is all about working on yourself. You feel fulfilled when you follow your own rules and routines. It makes you feel like everything is in its place. Sometimes others find your little habits weird but it is who you are. Also, healthy nutrition and sport will make you feel more confident. Being healthy and put together improves your self-esteem. In addition, helping others helps you as well! The 6th house is all about service and when you help someone you feel fulfillment. It is just your essence so don’t hide it!

Venus in the 7th house

Venus here is in its own house but this placement is kind of tricky. Sometimes your self-esteem depends on your partner and you can’t find solid ground for your own personality. It can be so frustrating that you may feel even empty without a partner. However, this situation is not healthy because Venus and the 7th house are all about balance. Yes, Venus in the 7th house screams PARTNERSHIP, but you need to find balance. Give and take equally, respect each other and find harmony in this relationship. This is the main lesson for Venus in the 7th house. Your self-esteem improves when you and your partner find balance and peace in your relationship.

Venus in the 8th house

The 8th house is all about transformations so sometimes having Venus in the 8th house feels unbearable. Your self-esteem transforms constantly. Sometimes you almost don’t feel it but sometimes it breaks your heart. However, it is the essence of this placement. You need to transform yourself and the perception of your values. Life will give you a lot of critical situations that will test your values and self-confidence. Yes, this is not an easy placement to have, but this tough experience makes your self-esteem unbreakable and solid and you become wise and unstoppable.

Venus in the 9th house

Your self-esteem improves when you get new experience and share it with others. It is so important for you to explore the world and build your own philosophy in life. You need to dig deep into the definition of the word «freedom». Your self-esteem improves when you feel no pressure and when you can do whatever you want with your life. Advice-giving is so good for your Venus. You have a lot to share with others so do that! Also, any kind of exploration of other cultures is good, whether it be a new language or travel. Your self-esteem improves when you can help others using your own experience. That is why you would be a great couch!

Venus in the 10th house

Your self-esteem improves when you are the best of the best in your field. You need respect and admiration from others. However, it is important to mention the difference between dependence on someone's opinion and deserved admiration for hard work. The second case is about Venus in the 10th house. Your self-esteem improves when you work hard on your goal and it doesn’t matter how big it is. You just need to build a plan and follow it until your goal is reached. Your self-esteem NEEDS to have a goal. It can be something small but also don’t shy away from big ones!

Venus in the 11th house

Your self-esteem grows when you are not afraid to express your authentic self and show your weird sides to the world. It is extremely important not to think about the opinion of others when it comes to your self-expression and creativity. Sometimes your ideas may seem strange but it is where the real innovation lies! Your self-esteem improves when you feel that your life is fully yours and you can do whatever you want. Also, like-minded people give you confidence because you know that you are not the only one. In addition, participation in some social activities helps your Venus to feel better. For example, charity or fighting for someone's rights.

Venus in the 12th house

Your self-esteem improves when you can express your deep emotions through creativity. Whether it be music or theatre, you need to find a way to free your endless feelings. It can be something small! Also, your self-esteem improves when you help those who are in need. However, be careful! Your sweet soul sometimes doesn’t understand when people take advantage of you. Everything must be in balance. Also, you need to find a field where you can use your empathic gifts to help others. For example, psychology, astrology, therapy, etc.

#astrology observations #astrology posts #astrology community #astrology #venus #venus in the houses #astro #astro notes

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talenlee · 11 months

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Hanamusa, Explained

There is a nonzero chance if you follow me on tumblr, you’ve seen the term ‘Hanamusa’ attached to something I shared. It’s probably also some super cute art of Delia Ketchum and Jessie Teamrocket, and you may wonder what is going on and also, why is there so much good art of this.

Hanamusa as a term derives from the Japanese names of the characters – Hanako and Musashi. If you’re into shipping name structures, Hana-Musa implies that Hanako is the seme and Musashi the uke, but I don’t think that holds for all use cases of the type of terminology. It’s a ship. It’s an AU ship, as in an ‘alternate universe’ ship, where the two characters are presented in a context outside of the normal context of the anime presentation of them.

The Hanamusa ship as I understand it is set at some point after Jessie and James stop chasing Ash around, and Jessie settles down into a relationship with Delia. There’s tension about her history with Ash and the confusion about finding Your Personal Villain dating your mom, but mostly it’s about showing a sweet domestic life between two characters you know very well in a format I kind of see as like, Comedy-Sabot Romantic 4koma. Like, Hanamusa content is funny (and it is VERY funny) but it doesn’t need to be funny, because the main thing it’s about is showing these two characters and their relationship as they do cute things together.

It’s why people watch shows like K-On basically.

As for where this idea comes from, (EDIT: Slightly wonky wording here, I should have phrased 'this current fandom push' - I don't have any reason to believe Mai INVENTED the ship, just that when you go looking you'll wind up at her work) it seems to have its genesis with the work of one Kiana Mai, who developed this ship some time ago. Kiana Mai is also an extremely skilled artist, and one of those skills seems to be focus, creating these extremely clean-line excellently structured scene vignettes with no unnecessary content in them but also no need to rocket along. It’s amazing, engaging work that uses every part of the small format amazingly well. Which makes sense because one of the things Kiana Mai does is storyboarding work for Disney animated TV shows, a task at which I am sure she no doubt excels.

What I think is the most interesting aspect of Hanamusa, to me specifically, is that it manages to combine three things I don’t actually care about, in a way that doesn’t interfere with something I have unexpectedly strong opinions on. I do not watch Pokemon, and I have not shed a tear for Team Rocket and Ash Ketchum wandering into the sunset. That is a show that is not for or about my interests and that is okay. Indeed, imagining that it should be about what interests me is baffling. I think if I stopped watching a show twenty years ago, I have lost all right to act like I’m entitled to expect it remain the way it was all the way back then.

But I do have opinions on Jessie and James’ character voice. Not their voice acting – I mean, I know for a fact they’ve had to change over time and no voice actor should be obligated to kick it in the same role for what could be their entire career. I mean the way they talk about things and the words they use and kind of emphasis they put on words when they talk. About the way they voice their ideas, or the way they express who they are in the way they talk to one another, that stuff. It’s about affordances and persona, about the kind of people you project being by what words you choose to use and the affect when using them.

It’s why when, if a picture of a character is underneath it, you can read some dril posts as being ‘appropriately’ voiced by a character, even if it’s describing a candle situation that Francis Crozier did not have opinions on.

Jessie has a voice.

Jessie, in my head, is someone capable of moments of tenderness and friendship that is normally overwhelmed by an incredible confidence in ability she does not have and mere reality will never be given permission to infringe on it. Jessie is unassailably unstoppably sure of herself, thoughtlessly stupid in a way that doesn’t mean she is stupid, but which exists in a context of someone who has relentlessly pursued excellence in her job which is also the equivalent of being a late night 7/11 manager. She is the Girlboss that is Gaslighting herself into thinking she has something to Gatekeep.

Delia Ketchum by comparison is a very nice piece of wallpaper. Every appearance of her in my mind is someone Very Nice who is Very Patient and Very Supportive and has managed to keep literally all emotionally challenging conversations from happening around Ash, which can be perhaps easier when you remember that he, too, is an idiot. I don’t know how Delia Ketchum talks, but I do know that there are ways that Delia Ketchum does not talk.

This is interesting! It’s interesting because it presents a character where I am very sure I know what she does do when she does it, and a character about whom I can only be sure wouldn’t do some things. It creates a character space, and it creates expectations of affect and performance within that space. Ash and other characters show up as well, but because they get to interact with this already-defined space, you get treated to this really lovely kind of resonance. Would Ash call Jessie ‘dad’? Maybe, to bug her. He was good at being a twerp. Wasn’t he? I mean I remember it that way, he seems to work out that way, but… how would I know?

I know more of this AU where Jessie is studying to be a Pokemon Doctor and Ash wears glasses than I do of the source material any more. And if you’re wondering ‘hey, do Jessie and Delia ever meet in the source material?’ Like, yeah, for a few seconds. What, the point is creating something new.

If you want to check out Hanamusa stuff and read the comics, I recommend going and clicking on the hashtag on tumblr.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Anime #Media

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csuitebitches · 3 months

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I apologize for the long ask and if this question is a bit juvenile but objectively, how can one “gain” pretty privilege/gauge how they are viewed? I’ve done well in career pursuits for how early on I am ( I graduated in 2020) but started noticing that the invites to events/opportunities where one can really establish themselves not only professionally but socially, I was getting passed over by some higher up colleagues. In speaking to a female mentor who is related to my field and the same background as me (Black), she alluded that while my race may play a small factor in it, it’s more so my appearance that may be holding me back as the personality and poise is there. Some coworkers of mine who are brilliant and POC have similar credentials and positions as I and while we are all wonderful and hard working, they (who I feel are more beautiful and put together looks-wise) have discussed privately to me they have noticed a difference in treatment between us. While it’s not right, I am adult enough to know not to let things that can be fixed hinder the life I want. Your page is a wealth of information and I appreciate how encouraging you are!!

well. I’m going to be very blunt.

it’s all fun and games to say “oh fuck the beauty standards they’re terrible and they shouldn’t exist” yes, true, unfortunately they do exist and they play a bigger role than we imagine it to be.

the first thing you have to get right is your mindset.

you need to be strong enough to admit that you need changes in X, Y, Z area but not in A, B, C area. You also need to be a little loyal towards your racial identity (for the better or worse) because that’s what is going to make you stand out.

if you have a sensitive, overly emotional mindset and you get hurt very easily / become obsessive by nature, I highly recommend you to STOP reading now.

Understand what is considered pretty in your country and area. Even in one country, beauty standards can different from the north and south. Don’t exactly try to become attractive for the opposite sex but understand what they find attractive because these guys are your primary responders to your pretty privilege. Women will be kind on the surface and so it can be difficult to get constructive criticism from them.

Understand what YOU consider pretty. Who are the women who you think are crazy beautiful? What do they look like, dress like, how’s their hair and their make up, can you replicate any of it? Rule of thumb when it comes to hair and beauty - look at influencers / celebs who are of your racial background for the best fit.

there are always a few things that are universally considered “respectfully attractive” not “you wanna fuck me attractive”- semi modesty/ modesty outfits (my father always told me that when in doubt, go for a more conservative look), hygiene, well kept hair, clean nails and toe nails, soft skin, natural make up, natural hair colour, perfume, clothes that fit, skin care, a workout routine.

pretty privilege is not just the art of looking pretty. It’s also bringing in something of value on the table. Value = money / connections / knowledge/ humour / being the fun social person / whatever value the target group considers to be the most important for you to be relevant to them. Work on your soft skills. It’s better to look half baked but have solid soft skills than to look amazing and not know how to converse.

things that one normally notices when meeting someone new:

Skin - is it clear, is the make up overdone?

hair - is it messy or does it suit your face structure?

how you smell

teeth, when you talk - and dental hygiene

shoes - are they filthy?

shirt/ top - does it fit you well (always check that the seams on your shoulder and your actual shoulder line up), the colour of your clothes

body type, posture, how you carry yourself

start with incremental changes. Make a list of things you think you could improve on (this is not a list of “ugly” things, it’s an “improvement/ potential” list). Sort them according to ease of improvement (is this going to be expensive and difficult or affordable and easy?) and time (can this be done overnight or will it take some time).

Use point 1 and 2 only as launching pads. You do not have to look like Beyoncé, you’re simply understanding what her MUA and hair stylist does for her that could work for you. After a point, you have to ensure that YOUR identify sticks out and is still there, you’re not born to imitate someone else and also, it’s very obvious when someone is trying to be someone they’re not.

again. I repeat. If you’re going to get obsessive and make yourself sick over this it’s NOT WORTH IT. If you’re not mentally capable of making these changes, do not go through it.

#Q/a #pretty privilege

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huntingingoodwill · 3 months

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personal shopping (d.b.)

masterlist

pairing: dieter bravo x personal shopper! reader

desc: your newest client, dieter bravo, braves the outside world to flirt with you at the farmer’s market. though it defeats the point of hiring a personal shopper, you’ll let him, ‘cuz he’s cute. you’ll play hard to get though. (and mention that javi gutierrez is your favourite celeb client, just to make him jealous)

“He said he needs someone to ‘deal with groceries and shit’ so he can ‘meditate on his art’, which is probably a euphemism for doing coke and wearing the same sweatpants for a week. Don’t tell him I said that.” Lia sighed.

She had introduced herself as Dieter’s personal assistant’s assistant, which you thought was slight overkill, but you weren’t in any position to judge. You had now joined her in Dieter’s league of many ‘personals’. He had a personal assistant, a personal chef, a personal trainer, and now you were his personal shopper.

She led you through his mansion in the hills, thrusting you into the nucleus of his ‘meditation’: a cavernous living room cluttered with empty liquor bottles and designer furniture covered in paint splatter.

“Lee-uhhhhhhh.” Dieter lay face down on the plush carpet, which you thought was quite an unconventional meditation position. “What time is it?”

You watched as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his elbow, trying to block out the rays of sun that shot through the windows. His soft, unruly curls caught the light, glowing warm in the sun as the nape of his neck prickled with sweat.

“10:30, Mr. Bravo.” Lia said, her voice artificially chipper.

“In the morning?” He grumbled, rolling onto his back.

You caught sight of his face, the skin dipping between his brow as he furrowed it, rubbing a hand across the stubble peppered across his jaw. Despite looking an absolute mess, he still looked cuter than he did in his shitty movies. You admired the curve of his nose and his disgruntled, sleepy profile as he kept his eyes closed against the sun. The tan skin of his bare torso was visible beneath an oversized teddy jacket, paired with sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Was it really necessary to wake me up at this ungodly hour?“ He blinked sleep from his eyes, the irises dark and honeyed as they glimmered in the light.

He caught sight of you, a sudden glint sparking alight in his eyes. His mouth, set with displeasure only a moment ago, began to break out in a smile. He looked up at you, dishevelled and adoring. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hello, Mr. Bravo.” You smirked, watching him scramble to his feet amongst the clutter of crushed paint tubes. You held out your hand.

“Call me Dieter. All my friends call me Dieter.” He intercepted your hand, fingers lingering appreciatively. “We’re gonna be friends, aren’t we?”

You tried to stifle a laugh. As soon as he looked at you you knew he’d be a relentless flirt. It was cute, in a pathetic way.

“I think I’m gonna be your employee, Mr. Bravo.” You corrected, ever the professional. He was cute, but there was no harm in making him work for it a little. “I was just about to head to the market, so I wanted to ask if you have a budget, or any dietary restrictions-”

“Let Mr. Bravo get back to his painting, I can fill you in on the details-” Lia began.

“I can explain everything.” Dieter interrupted. “I’ll even come along.” He said, shoving off his jacket. You felt heat creep up your cheeks as you eyed the broad expanse of his back, the muscle beneath the skin pulling taut as he searched for a clean shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of hiring a personal shopper?”

“We’ll call it a trial run. Just so you know what I like. Or we could call it something else. ‘First date’ has a nice ring to it.” He grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder, a sensation that felt nicer than you cared to admit.

“You come on strong, don’t you?” You mumbled through a derisive smile, feeling his ego expand as you allowed him to keep his arm around you.

“Always.”

“Don’t you have some artistic meditation to do? Lia said you weren’t interested in ‘groceries and shit’.” You said, sidling through the stalls of the farmer’s market.

The cramped little lanes were filled with people, recognition flashing in their eyes as they caught sight of Dieter, who trailed after you.

“This is artistic meditation. I’m watching my new muse at work.” He said matter-of-factly, swinging your basket, which he had offered to carry for you, in his hand. His rings stood out starkly, flashing against the wicker handle.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin.

“Lia gave me a list of ingredients your personal chef needs, but do you have any other requests? Any ingredients for when your chef has an off day?”

“I don’t cook. When he has an off day, I just deliver.” Dieter adjusted his sunglasses, which you were starting to believe were less of a means to disguise himself from the prying eyes of the public and more because his hangover couldn’t bear the light. “Just buy me whatever, as long as it’s organic, cage free, GMO free, chemical free…” He said, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

You internally groaned. Though you were used to these buzzwords being haphazardly thrown about by your other clients without really knowing what they meant, you were hoping he’d be exempt.

“Water is a chemical compound.” You muttered, stopping in front of a produce stall, fruits and vegetables enticingly overflowing from the crates before you.

You could see his eyes widening behind the dark lenses of his shades from the corner of your eye as he spat the water back into its bottle.

“Water is a chemical?!” He spluttered.

You arched an eyebrow. “And I saw five KitKat wrappers on your carpet this morning.”

“We all make mistakes.” He chuckled, wicking away water from his mouth as he watched you reach for a lemon, its peel a vibrant yellow. “But that’s unimportant. Will you go out with me?”

A smile broke out across your face, unable to hide your amusement at his direct nature. You handed him the lemon, admiring the black ink of his tattoos etched across his skin as he extended his arm to place it in the basket.

“I don’t date men who can’t cook.”

“You’ll have to teach me then. It can be our second date.” He ran his hand through his hair, teeth flashing in a smile. His hair, already tousled, seemed to become even more unruly, and you resisted the urge to run your hand through it to help him fix it.

“Not part of my job description. I just help my clients buy what they need. Groceries, furniture, clothes… but I doubt you’re very interested in the last one.” You smirked, pointedly looking at his feet, clad in crocs and socks.

He looked down at the fashion offence he was adorned with, shrugging. “Fashion is a social construct. I’d wear a different pair of shoes if you’d go out with me, though.”

“I don’t go out with my clients.” You said, voice bubbling with laughter.

“But if you had to go out with any of your clients, it’d be me, right?”

“It’d probably be…” You wracked your mind, going through your list of clients to find a suitable candidate. “Javi Gutierrez.”

“That hack?”

“I don’t think he’s a hack!” You laughed, defensive. “He’s a good actor.”

“I’m a good actor.” He exclaimed, only to be met with your raised eyebrows and a shrug as you turned toward the next stall.

“Your silence speaks volumes.” He mumbled, faking a hurt tone as he followed close behind you.

“If you like him so much, some people say I look like Javi. We could always play pretend.” He smirked.

You put down the jar of honey you were examining, scanning Dieter up and down, as if trying to look for a resemblance.

“Hmm… don’t see it.” You sighed nonchalantly, refocusing your attention on the neatly stacked rows of jars before you.

“Since you think so highly of Javi, what do you think of me?” Dieter said, a crush of people moving through the lane forcing him close to you. You tried to keep your cool as you held his intense gaze, the cologne he spritzed on before he left the house deep and musky, the vivid scent clouding your senses. You swallowed thickly.

“I think you’re pretentious and hedonistic.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” He smiled, feigning innocence.

“Are you in denial, or do you just have a small vocabulary?”

“Can’t it be both?” He laughed. He looked around, making sure no one was watching, before dipping toward you, his lips barely ghosting the curve of your ear, his husky voice ringing in your head. “If you think using your big words to insult me will scare me off, you’re wrong. It just makes me more attracted to you.”

“Good.” You said, praying he wouldn’t feel the heat radiating off you, a blush blooming across your jaw. You ignored the playful smile on his face, keeping your hands busy as you aimlessly picked through produce. You bought a ripe apple, wiping it clean on your shirt.

Dieter’s eyes lingered on your lips as you took a bite, the crisp skin breaking beneath your teeth.

“So, you’ll go out with me?” He asked.

He held out his hand, and before you even registered what was happening, you had given him the apple, the red, glossy skin gleaming against his rough palm. He took a bite, the fruit’s flesh crunching as juice dribbled down his forearm, tracing the veins beneath his skin.

“Not happening.”

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo imagines #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #the bubble #pedrostories

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catsukibakagou · 1 year

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Work of art

Bakugou Katsuki x reader

He watches with the eyes of a hawk as your lips change color, the way you lean towards the mirror as you drag the lipstick carefully across your lips. Red, not a bright gaudy looking red. No your lips were becoming the color of blood, a pretty dark red almost burgundy. The color compliments your skin tone perfectly, makes your lips look even more tempting than usual.

The pout you wear as you check your lips makes him want to go and make you mad by ruining your lipstick with his own lips. He knows he should wait a little longer before he inevitably does go and ruin your masterpiece. So he leans against the bathroom doorframe and watches as you pull away from the mirror and face him with a smile.

“Why’re you staring so hard? Do I have something on my face?” You ask looking at those ruby eyes of his.

He shakes his head but his stare doesn’t stop,“Nothin’ just looking at ya before I leave for work.”

His words make you flush a little before you look at the time, your eyes widen. You’re both going to be late, he’s going to be late for work and you’re going to be late for brunch with Mina who is on her day off.

You rush around quickly trying to gather your things and Bakugou seems to know where everything you need is so he helps you out and makes the process that much faster. You end up at the front door when you’re all settled and you’re adjusting his clothes, a ritual that takes place every morning.

Forgetting about your lipstick you press a kiss against his cheek at the corner of his mouth. When you pull away there sits your bright lipstick stain against his skin, it’s awfully noticeable. You reach up to wipe it off and before your hand can reach his face a warm strong hand holds your wrist in place.

“Leave it.” His words are clear as day but you look up at him with doubtful eyes.

“It’s really bright let me wipe it,”you say trying to move your hand again.

His grip doesn’t waiver and instead with his other hand he grips your jaw and tilts your head so he can press his lips against yours. His lips move slowly as if trying to savor the sweet moment. You’re hyper aware of his warm hands moving to hold you by your waist, aware of the way his warm tongue slips into your mouth, and aware of the way he slowly begins to pull away from you.

You stand dazed as he stands in front of you with your red lipstick smeared all over his lips and a very noticeable kiss stain on his cheek,“I don’t care about a stupid lipstick stain.”

•••

Later that day when you checked what was trending on twitter “DynamightIsOverParty” was at the top due to the fact that he broke the hearts of his fangirls with a mystery person’s lipstick mark.

The pictures associated with the tag were all of the pro hero himself fighting villains while on patrol. The grin on his face is massive and the lipstick on his face looks as if it wasn’t touched, he didn’t even bother trying to clean it. He wore the lipstick stains proudly throughout the day and no one dared question him.

#bnha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo katuski x reader

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

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Coming Home (Part 8)

Azriel x Reader

Just saying again if I’ve accidentally missed you off the tag list, please drop me a message and let me know! I don’t want to miss anyone ❤️

Warnings: Nah. I think we all know I eat angst for breakfast by now. 🫣

⧪

A week later, your only relief was keeping busy.

Day in and day out, you threw yourself into the world of your work, lost yourself in the glorious art that was magical healing. Every minute of the day was filled with walk-ins at the clinic, or the more urgent home visits you travelled out to. And come evening time, when the patient footfall thinned out into nothing, you crushed herbs and mixed ingredients until you were healing your own cuts, your own burns, making salves and tonics and long-forgotten medicinal recipes that were fading on the pages of the dusty old book you so often buried your nose into.

Anything to keep your thoughts off of him. To keep that ache from ripping you open inside.

That evening, like every other over the past week, you hid yourself away in your little back room. It had become a solace of sorts, a place that was yours to linger in for as long into the night as you needed. Sometimes you even slept there.

You wiped a sheen of sweat from your brow as you drained the water from the herbs you’d been boiling. Lost in the punchy aromas and the steam creating a shroud around you, you just about jumped out of your skin when you turned to find a figure in the doorway. You winced as a few droplets of boiled water sloshed over the rim of the ceramic pot, spraying your arm.

“Shit.” Lucien marched over, easing the pot from your hands and placing it on the counter. “Sorry — I did knock. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” You wiped your hands on your apron, the sting already gone. “What brings you here?”

“I was on my way to that family dinner I’ve been so generously invited to. Thought I’d drop by here and offer to walk you there.”

Shit — you’d forgotten about the dinner you’d agreed to. And thus, forgotten to come up with a good excuse as to why you couldn’t attend. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid these things forever, but to see Azriel so soon — to sit across the table from him and act like everything was fine — was a prospect that made you feel sick.

Lucien seemed to notice your hesitation. He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” You quickly said — you really didn’t feel like explaining the Azriel situation right now to anyone; even him. “No, I just…forgot. Uh…I’ll clean myself up.”

“Good idea. You have a little…” He reached out a strong, broad hand, the pad of his thumb brushing just beneath your eye. “There. Some sort of powder.”

With a somewhat nervous laugh bubbling up your throat, you brushed past him, his touch still tingling on your face.

You didn’t see the point in fixing your appearance beyond the basics of dusting yourself down and throwing your hair up that had begun to curl in the humidity of the room. You discarded your apron, shucking your jacket on, and turned to Lucien expectantly.

You snorted as you found him sniffing at the various different pots of salves and tonics, a frown pinching his face. You pointedly cleared your throat.

“If you’re done shoving that pregnancy prevention tonic up your nose,” You gestured to yourself. “Do I look presentable?”

One side of Lucien’s mouth kicked up into a delicious smirk. “Ravishing, Lady Healer.”

⧪

You prolonged the walk to the house as much as you possibly could, dragging your feet slowly and keeping Lucien lost in conversation. It reminded you how easy it had been to be around him before — how the gaping chasm inside you didn’t ache quite so badly as he regaled you with wicked stories that drew genuine laughter from you.

You were undoubtedly late, though — and that much was obvious when you could put off the inevitable no longer, and you entered Rhys and Feyre’s home.

Everyone was already seated at the table when you and Lucien strolled through, mid-laughter. They each looked up with raised eyebrows, taking the sight of you in.

Azriel’s was the only gaze you didn’t meet, no matter how badly your eyes wanted to stray to him.

Your laughter died in the expectant silence, and you cleared your throat. “Apologies for the lateness. I got…held up. At the clinic.”

It didn’t occur to you, in the moment, how those two words — held up — may have been construed, given the appearance of the situation. That you and Lucien had wandered in later than everyone else, talking and laughing and flushed from your walk in the brisk air. You took your usual seat beside Mor, reaching for a glass.

“Can we eat now?” She pouted. “I’m starved.”

“Yes.” Rhys replied, his eyes not moving from you. “We can.”

⧪

Rhys’s hard gaze wasn’t the only one trained on you throughout dinner.

Elain sat directly opposite you, and you were surprised she actually managed to eat anything, with how intently she stared at you. Glared at you. If she was trying to make you uncomfortable, it was working.

“All I’m saying,” Cassian said from across the table, cutting into his dessert, “is that it’d be pretty cool to have a Night Court pet. A mascot, of sorts.”

Amren narrowed her eyes at him, draining her glass. “Where are you going with this, you stupid boy?”

“A cat. I think we should get a big, Night Court cat. A black one.”

The verbal sparring between Cassian and Amren, through all three courses of food, had been dinner entertainment in itself. Kept you distracted enough that Azriel was simply a shadow in your periphery, and nothing more.

And Lucien had helped, of course — like he could sense that you needed easing. His reassuring glances from the chair on your other side, his quiet comments in your ear that had you laughing to yourself, had all been the comforting presence you’d needed.

“Perhaps we should get a cat.” Amren hummed. “It can replace you, Cassian. And probably provide us with more stimulating conversation, too.”

Lucien leaned down to your ear, his breath tickling your skin as he murmured, “He can join our band of rejects.”

The laugh that broke from your throat was so loud, so sudden, that everyone turned to look at you. Lucien pulled away, clearing his throat.

Shifting in your seat, you pushed your plate away from you. You’d barely touched a morsel of food all night.

“If we’re done eating.” Rhys said, his hard, violet eyes on you. “Perhaps we should move to the sitting room.”

Hums of agreement sounded around the table, and you didn’t hesitate to stand up from your chair. This was the perfect opportunity to make an excuse and retire early — to leave the heavy, pressing atmosphere that was making your chest uncomfortably tight.

You opened your mouth to announce you were leaving, but your brother turned to you, holding out an arm.

“A walk around the garden, Y/N?” He asked. The fact that nobody else said a word was indication enough that there was intent behind the innocent suggestion.

Still, he was your brother — and you barely got to see him anymore, partly through your own doing. You smiled tightly and linked your arm through his.

“Save some whiskey for me.” Rhys called over his shoulder, leading you out.

⧪

The two of you strode in silence for a while.

The night was peaceful, if not uncomfortably cold in your thin clothing. Content, playful snippets of conversation occasionally floated out of the house and reached your ears. The floral scents that drifted through the air were pleasant, soothing, reminding you of simpler times.

You would have felt blissful if you didn’t have warring emotions eating you up from the inside.

Rhys slowed to a stop beside a flowering shrub, his fingers toying with the petals of a soft purple flower. “Y/N.” He said quietly. “What’s going on?”

You stared at him, willing an expression of cluelessness onto your face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” His jaw ticked, “I mean with you and Lucien.”

Gods, you were already tired of this conversation. You felt yourself bristle as you folded your arms.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “What look would that be?”

“Like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His tone was sharp, biting — verging on angry. “Everyone was aware of you leaving your party with him. I overlooked it because I knew you were overwhelmed. But afterwards, I found out you had…history with him. And then tonight, the two of you turn up late together after doing the Mother knows what—“

“I’d thank you,” You interrupted with a snap, “to watch what you’re insinuating, brother.”

“You were sat directly opposite his mate, Y/N, while he was whispering in your ear.”

“Elain doesn’t even acknowledge him!”

Rhys whipped round to face you so fast, he tore the flower from the shrub. It floated from his fingers to the ground. “Your opinion on their bond is completely irrelevant. He is a mated male, to a female in our family, our court. You will not interfere with that.”

You clenched your jaw. “Since when do you involve yourself in other people’s relationships?”

Your brother stared at you, his lips slightly parted. Slowly, he shook his head. “You truly have no idea, do you?”

“About what?”

“About what I have to deal with!” His voice was almost a shout. “This isn’t about involving myself in relationships. This is about my duties as a High Lord. Our relations with many of the other courts are already stretched at best. If they sense conflict from within our court, our family, it will be used against us.”

“Conflict?” You repeated. “For fuck’s sake, Rhys, Lucien is my friend. If Elain has a problem with that—“

Your words were stopped short as Rhys marched over to you. He cut an intimidating figure, towering over you and gripping both your shoulders in his firm hands.

“Do you know what they say about you in the other courts?” He shook you. “Do you? They talk about the Night Court High Lord’s flighty younger sister who cannot settle in any one place. Who moves from court to court, taking lovers and doing as she pleases. Who was fucking and drinking to her heart’s content while the whole world went to shit.”

“I,” You snapped, shoving him off, “was healing mortals and helping rebuild villages and lives that our kind were destroying. And I wanted to come home, to find some way to help — you told me to stay away!”

“Yes, because I couldn’t let Amarantha get to you! I knew she’d use you to get to me and I couldn’t let that happen!”

“So you can’t hold it against me, Rhys—“

“I’m not holding anything against you.” His tone was low, dangerous, his face moulded into one fitting for the Court of Nightmares. “But I have duties. Important ones that cannot be compromised. Stay away from Lucien.”

You stared defiantly up at him, your arms crossed over your chest. “Are you saying that as my brother? Or as my High Lord?”

“I’m saying it as a gentle warning as your brother. But if I have to pull rank to keep things on the straight and narrow, I will.”

“Gentle.” You scoffed.

That single action of yours seemed to incense Rhys beyond anything else.

“Do you even realise what hell we went through? The things we had to endure? I barely survived!” He spat, his wings flaring behind him. “But those dark days are behind us, Y/N. We’re trying to rebuild, to regain strength. And I can’t have you making poor decisions and breaking us apart from within. I cannot have you bringing shame down on our court!”

He may as well have slapped you.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. Felt your clenched fists uncurl themselves. Felt the cold slither of hurt snake its way through you until it was chilling your bones and turning your blood to ice. You’d fallen deadly still.

Rhys knew immediately what he’d said. The realisation seemed to drain his anger from him instantaneously. His eyes shuttered, his jaw loosening. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Shame?” Hot tears pricked at your eyes; you blinked them away. “Is that how you feel about me, Rhys? Ashamed?”

“No, look, that’s not what I meant—“ He was scrambling for words as he reached for you, his face, his eyes, infinitely softer — the expression you recognised as your brother. “I just—“

But you were stepping away from him, shaking your head. Wiping your eyes. You didn’t want to hear another word he had to say.

“Y/N—“

“Wow.” You laughed bitterly, shooting your brother one last, scathing glance. “Congratulations, High Lord. You truly sound like our father.”

Vicious, vicious words that you knew would hurt more than anything, but you were beyond caring. You turned, running back up the steps to the house and sweeping through on a wind built of your own anger, your own hurt. You didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or cry. Maybe both.

As you passed the rest of the Inner Circle gathered in the main sitting room, you didn’t spare a single one of them a glance. Even though they could see the tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks. Even though you looked seconds from breaking completely.

You held your head high, and you left.

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