#i just personally wouldn't do a sheer skirt

[themakeupbrush]

Sara Sampaio at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival

#sara sampaio #cannes #cannes 2022 #love everything about this #i just personally wouldn't do a sheer skirt #cannes film festival #2022 cannes film festival

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

[facefullofsadness]

stripper!ningning in a private room

dom!ning x sub!reader

smut, 1.8k wc

I had a dream the other night that ning literally just flipped up her crop top and flashed the entire audience, nips out and everything (she didn't even have a bra under). as if it was a part of the show too? had the cameraman zooming in and her fucking hard nipples were on the big screen with the instrumental to a solo song of hers playing in the back. the wildest part was when she started PLAYING WITH THEM? she literally teased around the bud and pinched them, flicking them between her fingertips and throwing her head back. woke up SWEATING! it led me to THINKINGGGG and came up with stripper!ning.

your friends drag you to a strip club one night to distress since it had been a long busy week full of work and you don't really leave the house, so they urge you to go out, just this once! obliging because you might as well, I mean why tf not, wouldn't hurt to try right?

little did you know, your plan to just stand in the corner by the bar and drink by yourself was far from what your friends had already pre-meditated for you. having settled yourself at the bar with a drink in hand already, you feel the hot touch of a person's hand slipping from your shoulder to your lower back, making you turn your attention towards the source.

your eyes widen at the stunning woman in front of you, a gorgeous dark-haired cat-eyed lady in a long black coat covering her body stood next to you, a sly smirk on her lips. you gulp down the alcohol in your throat when she opens her mouth to speak.

"my, you really are so much more pretty up close..." she says, almost as if her thoughts slipped from her tongue, leaning in to observe your face further, touch lingering on your body.

you dart your eyes anywhere else to escape her intense gaze and she clears her throat before speaking again, "sorry, my manners slipped me. I'm ningning, would you like to come with me?"

you stare at the hand ningning held out for you, the internal dilemma going crazy in your head. you see your friends out the corner of your eye, cheering you on silently and urging you to say yes. looking up at the woman next to you, her expression is expectant and she bats her eyelashes, eyes full of wonder and allure.

you don't say anything and just take her hand, the beautiful woman smiling and dragging you past the poles of dancing women, her luscious dark hair flowing behind her, into a private and dimly lit room. she sits you down on the velvet sofa and runs her fingers through her hair, sighing.

you gather the courage to ask, "did my friends set this up?"

her teeth show slightly in the smile she gives you, giggling softly, "yes sweetie they did. but I didn't go so easy, I had to see how pretty you were up close if I really wanted to go through with it."

she sways her way up to you from across the room, hands laying on your shoulders and rubbing her thumbs under your jacket against your skin, "luckily for you, and especially for me, you're fucking hot."

she leans into your ear, lips and breath hot on your skin, "I'm supposed to give you a show, but I think I want so much more than just that, don't you?"

her words make you shiver, a chill trailing down your spine. she pulls away to push your shoulders back against the sofa, your back hitting the soft backrest, as ningning straddles your lap. you can feel her skin on yours under her long coat against your thighs, the material of her clothes hiking up your skirt.

she pulls the knot on her waist that's holding her coat together, taking it off and revealing her black lingerie set, sheer and honestly not doing much to leave thoughts to the imagination. she leans in over you and hovers your lips with hers, feeling her lips curl upright into a smile.

"don't be shy, I don't bite... too hard."

she grabs one of your hands and puts it on her exposed stomach, guiding it to feel her body up and down, the lace and skin on your fingertips. she puts your hand on her chest, making you trail your fingers on her hard nipple through the lace. you obey, using your thumb to roll the bud against her boob, feeling it harden in your hold.

her breath increases in volume, and you feel her panting against your lips. you continue further, pinching her nipple in your fingers, eliciting a deep moan from her throat. you bring your other hand up and repeat the same motions to her other boob, making ningning throw her head back, her long sweaty exposed neck on display. the sight made your cheeks start to turn red and you started to feel your body heat up.

"learning quickly, aren't you there? god you're so pretty under me, can't wait to feel more of you."

and she sure did feel more of you.

you laid back against the sofa, ningning kneeling with her pussy in your mouth, one hand in your hair, twirling her fingers with your strands and pulling you in, tongue spelling your name across her sweet tasting cunt, her other hand pinching at her nipples, moans filling the room. she had secured your wrists to poles on either side of you, same as your ankles, your body completely sprawled out and barely clothed, ready to take anything she so wanted to do to you. and at this moment, she wanted to see how much of a good girl you'd really be for her.

chanting pet names and words of praise for how well you ate her out, her sweet and sultry raspy voice releasing pleasurable groans. her hips grinding rhythmically against your mouth, the hold on your head tightening and pulling you impossibly closer, making it difficult to breathe. you look up at her figure, the sight making your hole clench and clit throb with how fucking sexy the girl on top of you looked, mouth hanging open, moans slipping from her lips, eyes rolled back, head swinging side to side, a thin sheet of sweat forming all over her milky skin, her fingers pinching at the nipples poking through her lingerie. you could cum from just watching her get off on you.

"such a fucking good girl, baby. wanna make mommy cum? go on, drink it all and clean me up."

her pace became unfathomably swift, chasing her orgasm on your hard working tongue. she came, creaming all over your mouth, well mostly, some of it spreading to your face. ningning yelled out profanities as you pushed her over the edge, her eyes trained on you and how well you sucked her dry (she wanted to cum again just by how good you looked). her honey-like voice filled your ears when you heard her giggle, opening your eyes to look up at her, an amused and prideful look on her face as she pet your head and threaded her fingers through your hair. once you licked her clean, she hovered her body over yours and traced her thumb over your cum-stained lips, sucking on her finger when she collected all the spit and liquid.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, your body is going to be completely incapacitated and you'll never want anyone else to fuck you other than me. do you want that? does my good and precious baby girl want mommy to break her? fuck her brains out until she can't think anymore?"

you moan at her words and pull at your restraints at the mere thought of her making you cum.

"go on sweetie, beg me. beg mommy to fuck you dumb."

oh your friends were so gonna make fun of you for this later.

"please mommy, I've been such a good girl for you, please fuck me stupid, fuck me until I can't take it anymore. even if I can't take it anymore! fuck me until I cry, until I'm sobbing, until I'm screaming for you to stop!"

so of course, she does, how could she say no to such a pretty girl begging for her? eating you out until you're squirting on her tongue and making a mess of her beautiful face, staining her pretty lingerie. fingering your pussy until her thrusts burn, your walls sore, clenching over her skillful digits, clit overstimulated to hell. fucking you with a strap until you're screaming bloody murder, throat aching in pain from the yells and also her fingers deepthroating and gagging you, clit rubbing against ningning's, making both of you tear up with incomprehensible pleasure, your body jerking with every pinch of her fingers on your nipples or suck and lick of her tongue on them, squirting so hard every time on her cum-shooting strap, filling you up with her cream. oh how I want ning yizhuo to fuck me like this so bad.

she finally stops after what feels like hours of constant mind-numbing sex, your hole leaking cum. you hear her mumble something like "fuck it's already been 2 hours? I need to get you out of here." how considerate. her taking such good care of you, massaging your wrists and ankles from the red marks that had formed from the cuffs she restrained you with, kissing over all the scratches and redness she induced on your body, cleaning all the cum and tears across your face and skin, getting you water and making sure you were okay.

"need anything else angel? was I too intense for you?" she'd softly ask, voice so sweet and gentle, caressing your cheek and playing with your hair, massaging your head too while you drank water.

"mm-mm," you'd hum, shaking your head no ever so slightly, your entire body sore. hell, you literally could only hum a response because your throat was spent.

she leaned in close to your face, her lips right up against yours, just barely touching, "it's against policy to do anything I did today, so I'll break just one more rule."

ningning kisses you. not intensely, not rough, just her soft and plump cum and cherry flavored lips moving slowly but passionately against yours, an incredibly drastic contrast from just moments before. and yet, this was the most breathless you were the entire night. pulling away after a while and gasping for air like you forgot how to breathe entirely, staring down at her lips shining with saliva, a grin settling calmly on her face.

she lifts your gaze with her finger under your chin and pecks you again before she interlaces her free hand with one of yours, "don't be a stranger okay? what's your name?"

suddenly gaining confidence, you kiss her again, taking her bottom lip between your teeth and swiping your tongue against it, a whine leaving her throat. you pull away and smirk, replying with a hoarse but brave voice, "take me out on a date first ningning, then maybe I'll reward you."

her chuckle resonates and she stands, pulling you up with her, dragging you towards the locked door (holding you up because your legs are absolute jelly), "I'll take you up on that challenge, pretty girl."

what a fucking night.

a/n - I WANT TO FUCK NING YIZHUO SO BAD OH MY GOD YALL DONT UNDERSTAND HOW BADLY I NEED HER

#ffos shorts #aespa #ningning #ning yizhuo #yizhuo #aespa ningning #aespa fanfic #aespa smut #aespa x reader #ningning fanfic #ningning smut #ningning x reader #kpop gg #fanfiction #kpop #girl group #girl group smut #girl group fanfic #girl group x reader #karina #giselle #winter

[maxknightley]

Which Touhou Girls Can You Plausibly Read As Butch? A Comprehensive Overview

Earlier on Tumblr I saw a post complaining that someone called Hecatia Lapislazuli from Touhou Project butch. This is Hecatia Lapislazuli:

Obviously, like most Touhou characters, she is in fact quite feminine - she just shops at Hell Hot Topic. But it got me thinking: In a series like Touhou, with a cast overwhelmingly defined by feminine (if rowdy) ladies, how many characters could you say are 'butch' without sounding like a complete doofus or significantly redesigning them to fit your headcanon?

CRITERIA

I'll be using four main criteria to judge characters' butchness. In real life, of course, butchness is a multivalent and extremely personal thing, but I'm talking about funny cartoon women from a video game here, so I'm willing to be a little reductive.

These criteria, in order of descending importance, are:

FASHION. In a series where goddamn near everyone is in either a dress or a skirt, the mere act of Wearing A Dress Shirt can be enough to make a powerful statement. Hats may also play a role here, given how many Touhou characters have gay little hats.

HAIRSTYLE. Short hair is not the be-all and end-all of butchness. I, myself, am Decidedly Butch even though I've been growing out my hair since college. But the length and styling of the hair are still a valuable indicator of how someone thinks of themself and wants to be seen.

'TUDE. Could this character be accurately described as "kind of a frat boy?" How do they speak to others? Do they just kind of seem like a character who ought to be butch, regardless of their looks? Do they even lift?

COMEDY FACTOR. Self-explanatory. This will probably only come into play if I run into a weird edge case.

I'll also emphasize that we're grading on a curve here - butchness is being assessed relative to the characters who do not appear on this list. Nobody in this series has a buzzcut, you know what I mean?

THE TIER LIST

AS CLOSE TO CANON AS WE'LL GET

Fujiwara no Mokou. The girl wears a dress shirt, fucking suspenders, and trousers. Not shorts, actual full-length pants. She's also in a perpetual love-hate mutual-murder situationship with Princess Kaguya, who is femme as all fuck. Obviously you don't have to be butch to date a femme - I'm just saying it feels Fitting given their whole deal.

Yuugi Hoshiguma. Most of the time, her fashion sense is actually quite feminine - but her look in the most recent chapter of Cheating Detective Satori, with the one exposed shoulder and the sarashi and all that, significantly alters the balance. Her hair actually reads as more masc to me when she keeps it long and unruly - when she puts it up in a ponytail, she ends up looking very kempt, even elegant. The deciding factor here is 'Tude: Her sheer levels of butch swag are off the fucking charts. (Still, I wouldn't blame someone for arguing she should be knocked down a tier - especially since I'd argue the Comedy Factor works in reverse here. She's way funnier if she doesn't think of herself as butch in the slightest.)

Minamitsu Murasa. In his original appearance I'd argue that Murasa is in "Reasonable" tier - maybe even as low as "Kind of a Stretch." But her big gay Jotaro jacket in Sunken Fossil World, combined with the emphasis on the weightiness and solidity of his trademark anchor, put her over the top. One of the only Touhou girls I consider worthy of being He/Himmed.

Shinmyoumaru Sukuna. The other He/Him-worthy Touhou girl. Very short, slightly messy hair; wears a kimono, not a dress; inheritor of Issun-Boshi's legacy; wears fucking dinnerware as a hat. Why do you want to be Big so badly, huh? So you can pick up women more easily? So you can carry your awful wife through the upside-down threshold of your upside-down bedroom?

Raiko Horikawa. For the longest time I thought her skirt was a pair of shorts because I straight up could not parse it as anything else. Even now I'm like "that can't possibly be a skirt, ZUN just drew it weird. She has to be wearing a full two-piece suit." Skirt aside, her jacket/dress shirt/necktie are still undeniable, as is her short hair. Also, she is a taiko drum given life, and I feel like taiko and timpanis are naturally butch. Maybe if she was a tambourine or a set of bongos I'd rank her lower?

Momoyo Himemushi. Rough-talking miner. Wears a dress shirt, leaves the top button(?) undone. Tromps around a big weird cave with no shoes or socks on. Wears bows and bangles basically everywhere but in her messy, tangled hair. Also, maybe I'm stereotyping here, but I just can't picture a centipede as being femme.

REASONABLE

Wriggle Nightbug. The dress shirt, cape, and puffy shorts all paint a vivid picture, but I just feel like I don't have a strong enough opinion on Wriggle as a character to put her in the top tier. In other words, she's got plenty of points for Fashion and quite a few for Hairstyle, but I just don't think the 'Tude is sufficient for me.

Reisen Udongein Inaba. The skirts are a strike against her, but her whole "dress shirt + necktie + sometimes suit jacket" thing makes a big difference, especially given that we're grading on a curve. Her rumpled ears and (particularly in Inaba of the Moon, Inaba of the Earth) pathetic demeanor go a long way towards giving her a vibe somewhere between "overworked salaryman" and "Detective Columbo."

Aya Shameimaru. All you need to know about Aya is that her "human reporter" disguise looks like This:

Mononobe no Futo. Butch, but in a really weird, circuitous way, imo. Like. She's sort of wearing a dress, but it's sort of a robe - the contrast of the hemline with her big flowy sleeves makes it hard to pin down - and her outfit quite notably has tassels rather than any kind of frills. I don't know what the hell is up with her hat but it's definitely not femme by any stretch of the imagination. Then thou hast the wayes in which she speaketh all "faux-olde-timey," even though nobody else in the setting does that... she transferred her soul into a plate, but she also throws plates around as weapons... It's like she's constantly putting on a performance that only she truly understands. It's like she reverse-engineered "masculine womanhood" by hanging out with a bunch of queens and doing kind of the same thing but kind of the inverse. The more I think about Futo the more I think she's entirely on her own wavelength, but I think "Reasonable" tier is a... uh, reasonable... approximation for the sake of this post.

Sagume Kishin. She dresses like if Bill Nye were a woman, and I think that cuts to the heart of it - she reminds me of a professor who you're not ever sure is gay, but you kind of pick up on a vibe, and near the end of the semester she offhandedly refers to "her partner" and you're like HOLY SHIT I KNEW IT. I went back and forth between putting her in "Reasonable" and "Kind of a Stretch"; ultimately, the Comedy Factor decided it because I couldn't stop thinking about a scenario where she says she's a woman, accidentally upends her whole understanding of gender in the process, and ends up taking testosterone while still ID'ing as a lesbian. I don't actually know if her powers would work that way and I don't care.

KIND OF A STRETCH

Eiki Shiki. I don't have a lot to go on, here, because she hasn't had many official appearances and seems to spend most of her time lecturing people or tormenting sinners. Her uniform(?)/apothecary outfit(??) is pretty snazzy; combined with the hat, it gives her a vaguely "military officer" look to me. We'll call her "butch pending further investigation," which I think she would agree is the correct course of action.

Sekibanki. She's here partially because of the cape, and partially because being sandwiched between Wakasagihime and Kagerou makes her look way more masc by contrast. I know what I said.

Ringo. It's pretty much just the hat and the pants, though - as a butch woman who Loves Eating - I am also inclined to project my own experiences onto her.

Aunn Komano. She reads as more "tomboyish" than outright "butch" to me, what with her whole puppy-dog vibe, but at the same time... she's very much wearing shorts and the kind of goofy-looking button-up shirt that is central to my own wardrobe and the wardrobe of other butches in my life. I'm willing to count her.

Takane Yamashiro. A living testament to the power of small character design choices. I would never in a million years call Nitori butch, even with her gay little hat and all the pouches on her outfit - she just looks like a girl scout. Takane, though? Takane, with her little hair swoopy, and the fucking suitcase slung over her back, and her camo-print dress? I mean - ultimately it is still a dress, which is why I can't justify scoring her higher, but she's definitely chewing tobacco and riding around on an ATV on weekends.

Chiyari Tenkaijin. If she's butch, it's not really because she's trying to be butch, it's just because being femme seems too expensive and time-consuming. She's got better things to do (drink blood all day). Still, I think an argument could be made.

DEFINITELY A STRETCH, BUT I RESPECT IT

Renko Usami. ZUN is kind of inconsistent with how he draws her hat - sometimes it's more of a porkpie/fedora type thing, other times it's round-topped and looks a bit like Koishi's hat. To me, this is a crucial distinction. In a more general sense, I feel like Renko's outfit gets a little less plausibly-masc with each passing album, which says a lot about our society. Or her society, anyway, since she lives in the future. Still, the capelets and bowties...

Rinnosuke Morichika. I think it would be really funny if the only significant male character in Touhou wasn't actually even a dude. I'm not aware of any real textual support for this interpretation, though.

Shou Toramaru. Pretty much only on here because of the hair and because I think there's a certain je ne sais quoi to her whole deal of "she's not a real tiger, she's the idea of a tiger that pre-Meiji Japanese people came up with from secondhand accounts."

Seija Kijin. Not even remotely butch by any stretch of the imagination... But if she did consider herself butch, isn't that exactly what she'd want you to think?

POTENTIALLY NOTEWORTHY EXCLUSIONS

Cirno. "Tomboyish" is not the same thing as "butch," to me, especially if you exclusively wear dresses. Also, I'm not sure Cirno even knows what a lesbian is.

Saki Kurokoma. Not actually butch, just a horse girl. (And a horsegirl.)

Mike Goutokuji. Can't tell if she's wearing a skirt or shorts. She's got short hair, sure, but the whole "matching bell collar and wristbands that also have bells attached" thing makes her look more like a Very Online Trans Woman who just figured herself out and hasn't started hormones or bought any new clothes yet.

#touhou #touhou project #crossposted from cohost after i spent like an hour on it.

[poppy-metal]

(toxic if u squint)upperclassman!jordan is fr so mean like.. using their seniority against you.. acting like they're doing you a favor by putting up with you even thougj they're looney in the toon obsessed w you.. makin you sit in their lap at parties, nestling their thigh between your legs n bouncing their leg against you.. nails digging into your waist as you chat all cheery w a guy obviously flirting with you. pullibg you into the nearest room, makin you lift up your little skirt, pull down your panties. make you show them how wet you are for them.

cooing when you spread your puffy lips, their index finger dipping into the slick dripping from ur tight little hole :( "look at you, fuckin' soaked." soft slaps on your swollen clit, scoffing when you whine out "jordan.."

making you tell them you're all theirs :( "who does this little princess cunt belong to, hm?" and ur tearing up bc they're so cruel :( whining out "yours, daddy. please." and they're so petty.. slapping your lil cunt with a "that piece of shit out there wouldn't fuckin' know that."

n idkk man maybe if you're lucky they'll fuck you but they're pretty angry 🙄 think you've been pretty bad 🙄 might let you cum if you do a really good job makin it up to them...

-🦸‍♀️ keep forgetting to do my silly willy emoji ill get there eventually

WHEN I CATCH YOU RICKY -

jealous jordan is something that can be so personal - you really hadn't meant to smile at the other guy like that - but maybe there's something to be said about how fucking wet you are at the treatment you're getting because of it. some unconscious part of you that acts out just so you'll have jordans attention on you like this.

that's how you find yourself upstairs - in the hosts fucking master bedroom - because of course the host of this party was the one who tried to flirt with you - getting fucked on their bed. leg hooked over one shoulder, the other spread out at a wide angle, moaning in ecstasy as you writhe. begging for it harder.

and jordan gives it to you - one hand wrapped around your throat as they do. that's the picture you make together when the door opens, and the owner of the bedroom steps in, mouth immediately dropping.

this, of course, was jordans plan all along. they let the guy soak in the image for a little, your legs in the air - your little hands clutching onto the corded muscle of jordans arm, not to remove their hand from around your throat, but to hold it there, like its an anchor and without it you'd just float away.

then jordan snaps, "fucking fuck off." and the sheer venom behind the words is enough to have the guy scrambling to obey - intimidated out of his own bedroom. no one fucks with jordan li.

you hadn't even been made aware of the whole ordeal, eyes hazy nd mouth dripping drool, but the sound of their harsh tone brings you back a little - has you blinking doe eyes up at them.

"d-daddy? what was-"

"nothing, baby." jordan quiets you with a kiss, chain brushing the valley between your shaking tits as they lean down over you, "is daddy's dick making you feel good?"

"y - yes!"

"gonna smile at other men?"

"no daddy, never! never again! m'sorry. please-"

"shh, i believe you." they glance at the closed door again and wonder if that guy is standing on the other side with his ear pressed against it. kinda hopes he is. "but you're gonna prove it t'me by making a mess all over this fucking bed."

#ask #🦸‍♀️ anon #jordan and their toxic possessiveness #well yes! #jordan li smut

[d4rkhold]

dionaea muscipula

Marilyn Thornhill x Fem!Reader

OVERVIEW: You decide to work on your report at the library late into the evening. Your botantical professor, Marilyn Thornhill (who you also have a crush on), so happens to stumble upon you working in a quiet corner of the library. 

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

WARNINGS: (18+ MINORS PLEASE DNI) smut, mommy kink, praise kink, sub!reader, dom!marilyn, legal age gap, oral sex, fingering, semi-public sex

A/N: I apologise, my writing here is not the best… It was quite rushed I have to admit, so please excuse any mistakes

You open your notebook, searching for a passage you had written on carnivorous plants and how they feast on their prey. You were working on a lengthy report for your botanical class that was due at the end of this week. Normally, you were more organised than this; you usually finished your assignments a week before they were due because you had other commitments outside of school. However, the past week had been so hectic that it caused you to be off your usual tempo. 

It’s late in the evening, and you are tucked in a quiet little corner of the second floor of the Nevermore library. Shelves of books surround you like an army of trees in a forest, and the gentle glow from the lamp on the desk illuminates the small area where you’re sitting.

You turn your wrist to look at your watch. You didn't have much time left in the library as it was going to close up soon. It’s important that you get as much done with the precious time you have left in this quiet environment. 

As you continue to flicker back and forth through your notebooks and textbooks while simultaneously typing on your laptop, you swear you hear the sound of footsteps nearby. You turn your head around to see who is still here. It seems that there is one other person sitting on the opposite side of the floor you’re on, watching a YouTube video on their laptop. 

It didn't explain the sound of those footsteps, but it didn't bother you that much anymore, so you continued to work on your report. 

You type away, trying to get as much of your ideas onto the document as possible. You figure you’ll be able to tidy things up later.

As you’re finishing off a sentence, someone hums from behind you, causing you to jump slightly at the proximity of the sound. You turn around to surprisingly see your botanical professor standing by the bookshelf closest to you, arms crossed.

“Well, well, Y/N. Aren't you a star student?” 

You couldn't lie to yourself — you found Marilyn Thornhill very attractive. Sometimes you'd just sit in class and listen to her voice and observe the way her hands would wildly flaunt around the place as she taught. She was an absolute spectacle. 

You were so easily drawn to her; she wouldn't have to say a thing to you or anything — but her sheer presence alone made you feel as if a magnet had you reeling towards her whenever she was in the same room as you. 

You would completely forget what you were supposed to be doing, consequently re-reading sentences that had no meaning to you at the moment or asking the person sitting next to you what page you were supposed to be on. 

She was different in a way — you could feel it. Not the fact that she was the only normie teacher at the academy, but there was an eerie aura that lingered around her when she wasn't around masses of students. 

Moments such as when you saw her from afar, sitting on a bench, writing in a small notebook; you would walk past her, and she’d look up at you, her lips curving into a strange smirk. Or when you had a question in mind and would go to the greenhouse to find her alone and feeding her plants, muttering things to herself (or possibly to her plants).

“Professor Thornhill… Sorry, you startled me a little bit.” You smile nervously at her. She apologises for her unexpected presence and walks over to the desk you are at.

She’s wearing a brown corduroy coat paired with a long dark navy skirt that has little patterns embroidered on. You always loved the outfits she wore; they always suited her so well. 

“Ah, yes,” she peers down at the various books and loose pieces of paper that lay in front of you. “I see you're doing the plants report. Very good.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the subtle praise, and your heart rate increases while she hovers by your side, just the two of you alone together in such close proximity. 

When she places a hand on the back of your chair to lean in closer to see your work better, you feel locks of red hair brush against your own hair. 

She crouches down a little, pointing out something she sees in a sentence you’ve written on your laptop. “Hmm… That section about the digestive cavity of the Dionaea muscipula seems a bit wordy.”

She suggests ideas to you on how to improve your writing for that part of your report. You nod your head while she speaks, fanatically jotting down the words that come out of her mouth onto paper. You then type it onto your laptop, according to her suggestions. Once you finish, you read it out loud to make sense of it.

“Oh, that sounds much better,” you grin. “Thank you so much, Ms Thornhill.”

You turn to look up at her but find that she’s already looking down at you. Behind wide-rimmed glasses, her brown eyes bore into your own, almost as if she’s attempting to search for something in your gaze. She leans in a little closer towards you to whisper something.

“Now, sweetheart. You don't have to be so formal with me outside of the classroom….”

Your body feels like it’s about to catch on fire. The older woman moves back, but you keep your gaze firmly on her, stumbling over your words.

“I’m sorry… Sorry, Ms- Profess- Marilyn…” 

A small smirk forms on her lips at your pathetic fumbling. She’s definitely amused now.

“I’ve been wondering,” she says as she clicks her tongue, “if there’s something you’ve ever wanted to tell me.” 

You furrow your brow in confusion at her words. To play it safe, you don’t reply and wait for her to explain further. The silence prompts her to continue.

“You know I don’t judge,” she muses out, and finally, the timer on the bomb strikes the final second. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me during class.”

And all of a sudden, your world freezes – or so you think it has, but your botanical teacher keeps going. You don’t even have time to digest the current situation or the words that casually keep coming out of her mouth.

“... You’re not very discreet, darling.” 

You swallow thickly; the humiliation of your professor knowing that you have a crush on her suddenly hits you like a train. Dying on the library floor feels quite desirable right now. You’ve always loved the library, so you figure it wouldn’t be such a bad final resting place.

“I-” you stutter out and whip your head around to see if the other person, who was also sitting on the floor, is still there. Gratefully, they had already left. 

”I just- I’m sorry-” 

She cuts you off. “First of all, don’t worry; I saw them leave a while ago.” She’s still looking at you, but her expression has changed to one that is terribly indecipherable. 

She moves in closer once again. “Second of all….” you watch her eyes drop to your lips.

“Don’t apologise for wanting the same thing as I do.”

Your heart suddenly feels like it’s stuck in your throat. All your semblance of self-control and calmness is starting to dissipate from your mind — you can feel it leave your grasp because you find your own gaze dropping to her lips. 

It's as if some invisible force is causing you to do the unthinkable. Because all of a sudden, you find yourself crashing your lips into hers, the heat of the moment a catalyst for your actions. 

After a few seconds, you realise she hasn’t kissed back yet, so you pull away, greatly embarrassed. Pillars of stone and cobble come crashing down in the back ends of your mind — all sense of certainty and confidence starts to slip through your fingertips just like that. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry- that was really stupid of me, I-” you panic and begin to gather your things from the desk. You had to get out of there immediately.

As you start to stand up with books in your arms, you suddenly feel your body being pushed against the desk. A gasp leaves your lips.

“Now… Not so fast,” Marilyn subtly smirks, taking the books from your hands and placing them back on the desk. As soon as they hit the table, your professor moves like lightning, flipping you around so that you're facing her. She doesn’t like to waste time, it seems. 

She hungrily surges at your lips, and it takes you a moment before you kiss back, wanting nothing more but to drown in the feeling of her soft lips against yours. You feel like you’re in a dream-like state: body on fire and lightheaded as you get high on the drug that is her – Marilyn Thornhill. 

The kiss is messy; desperation starts to consume the two of you, leaving no room for any decorum. You deepen the kiss, only to then feel her wet tongue snake its way inside your mouth. 

Marilyn pushes you further into the desk, causing you to moan inside her mouth. She grabs the back of your neck to steady herself before biting down on your lower lip and releasing it ever so slowly. She then pulls away slightly, leaving a small space between your lips and hers. 

Your breath is all quick and shallow; lungs greedily attempt to capture every bit of air they can get. Lips are already swollen, and sweat is already visible on skin — the two of you are barely getting started. 

The t-shirt you’re wearing gets yanked over your head, and all you can do is hold both of your hands up in the air to help her pull it off your arms. As soon as the material is free, it’s thrown carelessly onto the floor somewhere. 

She pecks at your lips, missing the taste of you already. You realise she’s still clothed, so you decide that needs to be changed.

Marilyn allows you to take off her coat, but when you go to unbutton her blouse, she grabs your wrist and tsks. You look at her, confused. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” she drawls. “Not yet. I want to take care of you first.”

You’re about to say something to her, but you’re cut short as her lips crash into yours once again. Her kiss is hungrier than the first time she kissed you. This one is all ferocity without any restraint. She’s not going to hold back anymore. 

She’s like an animal who's just been liberated from its cage and hasn’t hunted in a while. You enjoy feeling like prey to her — heart set in your stomach, beating frantically as you wait for her to strike and devour you bit by bit. 

Marilyn walks the two of you away from the desk, lips still locked on yours. She’s an excellent kisser and knows what she’s doing, so you just let her lead. Even just the mere thought of how experienced she probably is makes you even needier. 

Your back hits a bookshelf, and spines of textbooks dig into your skin as the older woman continues to ravage you. Her lips move down to suck and kiss the area around your collarbone. You let out a sigh at the feeling of her tongue on your skin.

Suddenly it hits you, and your body just stills at your realisation. 

You remember that the two of you are in the school library — a public space where anyone could still be lurking around the place. What if the librarian was putting some books away and happened to stumble upon the botanical professor making out with her student? 

Marilyn senses that something’s wrong, and she stops, detaching her mouth from your neck. It’s as if she can read your mind because she starts to reassure you.

“If you haven't noticed, it’s way past closing time,” she turns a wrist over and shows you the time. 

“But… Isn’t the librarian still here? The lights are still on, and the windows are still open,” you point out. Marilyn just grins with self-satisfaction.

“Well,” she whispers, “I told our lovely librarian earlier today that I was going to remain on school grounds until late, so I insisted that I would close up the library just for today.”

“It just so happens that you were here.” Her lips are now on the shell of your ear, teasing you. You suppress a moan; she hasn’t even touched you yet, and you're already all worked up. 

“Now,” she runs a hand down your cheek, “I need to know if you really want this or not.” 

Her thumb continues to caress your cheek as she patiently waits for your answer. 

You wet your lips before responding. “Yes, I want this. I need you.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Please, I need you so badly,” you breathe out. 

It’s all a bit surreal — this entire moment. You would’ve never guessed that you’d be pressed up against a bookshelf about to be fucked by your professor whom you have a crush on. You almost laugh at the mere thought of it until you feel fingers nudge at the entrance of your mouth. 

“Be good for me, won’t you, darling?”

You feel heat rush to your core at her words. Fuck, you thought to yourself. You nod your head and swallow thickly before she gets to work.

You allow her access into your mouth. She enters and you take the hint and start swirling your tongue around her lithe digits, moaning when your mouth is abruptly right up at her knuckles. 

It’s almost as if she’s starting to fuck your mouth with her two fingers, slowly and sensually rocking them back in forth while you simultaneously suck on them. 

You can see it in her eyes that she’s enjoying this as much as you are. Her eyes are fully blown, darkly clouded by lust and want. You wonder if your eyes are the same… What does your display of desperation look like to her?

Her breathing starts to get ragged at your movements around her fingers. Satisfied, she pulls them out slowly, and you watch as the spit from your mouth connects to her digits. Honestly, it might be the most erotic thing you've ever witnessed. 

“Please,” you pant out, starting to get impatient.

She looks at you and winks before her eyes dart down to the waistband of your pants. You think you understand what she wants, and you go to unbutton them — however — out of nowhere, a hand firmly grabs yours. 

She roughly yanks your hands above your own head, pinning them in place on the bookshelf. 

“Uh-uh.” Her eyes rake you up and down at your current position. “Let mommy do the work.”

She unbuttons your pants and nods at you to wriggle out of them, kicking them away from you once they're on your ankles. Marilyn sighs as she takes in the display that’s presented in front of her: you in black lace underwear, hands together above your head and a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin. 

“My gorgeous girl,” she briefly licks her lips as if she’s at a fine restaurant about to devour a five-star meal. 

Her hand goes to cup your clothed core, feeling some of your wetness having already seeped through the material. 

“Fuck…” she murmurs out. “So wet for mommy already.”

She starts to rub circles through your underwear. You bite your lip at the sensation. God, this woman is going to be the death of me, you think to yourself. 

Marilyn starts to speed up. Her eyes then flicker back up to yours. 

“How’s that, darling?” 

“Good,” you sigh out, “but I need more.”

“Oh, you need more?” She ceases her movements. “Greedy, aren't you?”

You whine, “I'm sorry- please….” 

A smirk forms on her lips, and her fingers start to move past the waistband of your underwear. She instantly feels your arousal on her fingers, causing her own underwear to become soaked. Her fingers work through your folds for a moment, and without warning, she enters you.

You bite down on your bottom lip, afraid that you might moan so loud that someone on campus is bound to hear. She starts to fuck you slowly, relishing in the gentle noises that start escaping from your lips. It feels so good, the way her fingers fit so perfectly in your cunt. You only now realise that your own fingers never feel this good — not even close. 

Her pace becomes too steady and slow for your own liking. You start to grow frustrated, knowing she’s purposely teasing you like this. 

You try rolling your hips, meeting her thrusts midway in an attempt to get more relief. She notices this and slows her pace down even more. You whine out in frustration. 

“Do you need something, sweet girl?” She pouts mockingly. You nod your head, and she cruelly coos back in response.

“Use your words.” 

“Fuck me harder- please, mommy,” you whine out. You never knew how desperate you could get until this very moment. 

She takes pity at your begging and begins to speed up. Her thrusts become rough and fast, and you no longer can contain the noises that emerge from your throat. To make it more difficult, her thumb finds your clit and starts working on it. 

Her mouth finds its way to your neck, attacking the skin and ensuring marks will be left once she’s finished. She wants you and everyone to know that you now belong to her. 

Usually, you would think that you’d be greatly humiliated by something like this: the sounds of your own loud moans and your wetness filling up a room that’s technically a public space.

“I’m so close- oh fuck!” You choke out. She lets go of your hands that are above your head.

You’re about to cum, but suddenly she stops and drops to her knees and drags your underwear off of you at the same time. 

“Not yet. I need to taste you before I let you cum.”

You feel yourself become more wet at her words, and not long after, you feel her pry your legs open, immediately bringing her head to your cunt. She slowly licks a stripe, wanting to taste every bit of your arousal and taking her time with you.

“Oh, fuck!” You twitch against the bookshelf. Instinct takes hold of you, and your hands fly to her auburn hair, tugging roughly, causing her to moan against your cunt. She’ll only allow you to do that just this one time. 

Marilyn keeps going, occasionally sucking on your clit, which earns a high-pitched noise from you. She sticks out her tongue inside your cunt, and you now find yourself deliciously riding her mouth.

It doesn't take long for you to feel that pleasurable sensation build up again. When she uses her thumb to rub at your clit, it becomes all stars in an instant. Your eyes feel like they're going to roll out the back of your head, and you have to steady yourself by grabbing a fistful of her hair much tighter than before. 

Yet, she doesn’t slow down even when you’re cumming right into her mouth. She hungrily licks up your arousal and then uses her fingers to fuck you through your orgasm. Your moans become broken and throaty, but to her, it becomes her new favourite melody. 

Soon, you're cumming for the second time, roughly throwing your head back once again. She slows down and gently pulls her fingers out when she thinks your breathing has slowed down. 

Marilyn rises slowly to her feet before languidly placing her fingers, which are covered in your arousal, into her mouth. She accentuates a groan and looks right into your eyes as she sucks her own fingers. 

She then pulls them out and licks her lips. “My good, good girl.”

Your hands latch onto her waist, and you pull her flush against your own body, kissing her passionately. You can faintly taste yourself on her lips, and it's enough to get you spurred up again.

“Now,” she holds the base of your chin in her hand, “get on your knees, darling.” 

She looks at the time on her other hand. “We still have some time left before I have to actually close up. Let’s see how fast you can make me cum.” 

God, this was going to be a very, very long evening.

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wlw #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #christina ricci #laurel gates #ms thornhill #marilyn thornhill smut #wednesday

[levmada]

Regarding your latest addition to Levi’s character analysis— um. HELLO??????? You CANT say Levi crossdresses and not follow up on that

What does he like to wear? Something fancy (dresses)? something more casual (only skirts?)? Would he consider wearing heels? Maybe some sort of wig? (His short hair with a nice dress would be so cute, though 🥹)

When did he begin considering crossdressing? Or did it just come naturally to him?

I NEED ANSWERS

kfkskgkskgks ID BE HAPPY TO ELABORATE

- we see in canon levi usually wears (1) formal shirts/slacks or (2) loose-fitting androgynous long sleeves and pants. so in public, no, but he rocks the occasional blouse / v-neck.

(modern au levi and women’s skinny jeans btw)

ehh any way you slice it he doesn’t know how to express himself, so he has no style (but no harm no foul baby is trying his best he looks great).

- but it’s not like Levi has any internal harmful notions about gender roles and such. the life he’s lived, he doesn’t have the energy to care what society (especially aboveground society) wants him to be like.

he’s just acutely aware that those roles/expectations do exist, so—like just about everything else…—he keeps his personal preferences and the reasons to himself.

- Levi doesn’t go to brothels for traditional reasons. but i think his relationship with them is more nuanced than avoiding them entirely, especially since it’s impossible to separate them from his mother and the moments his childhood was happy.

in some low moments he’ll to go to a brothel and pay, but just to lounge and talk. or listen to the woman he’s meeting talk. there’s one he calls a friend (and maybe 1 or 2 others he sees) but doesn’t know much on a meaningful level. it’s just nice. the smell of the perfume, gentle silk and thin cotton, a soft feminine voice, being able to lay his head in her lap, etc.

it’s the mommy issues for sure… but he’s also the most comfortable like this, in this company.

(i realize this doesn’t really have to do with crossdressing but im not deleting it😭)

- levi is good at makeup anyway (made a post about this…), so he sometimes dabbles in a little subtle styles, like dark thin eyeliner. it’s very rare for him to do a full face, but he feels if it’s subtle enough, he’ll leave HQ like that.

- as for "sexy" clothes (specifically kneesocks, sheer panties, thigh-highs w/ garters) he's hesitantly into it. it's really hard for him to separate the negative associations with his past and these clothes.

but he would put them to use iykwim. but only after an extremely long period of time would he share it with his partner, and even longer than that he might use them with his partner

- he's a casual dress person for sure (and not very showy). not a fan of a bunch of bright colors and puffy fabric, certainly not the types of dresses that are a process to get into like ballgowns (especially in the time of aot where those metal frames would be used). he doesn't like to show skin either.

the flowing dresses, the ones that sway around his knees/calves, the ones with BUTTERFLY SLEEVES or ANGEL SLEEVES. and kimonos.

(like this) (and this) (AND THIS)

he looks good in literally everything tho.

- on sight alone he'd pass for a pretty woman too rfherigeirug (not his intention, but whatever👍 he would think)

- maybe perhaps on the off chance, he might go to a casual evening event in civilian garb in a long-sleeve dress and black tights.

- his favorite color is white but he doesn't want to get his dresses dirty :( like at all :( like he's way more adamant about this than normal, even.

- it's cold at night but not cold enough for pants? kneesocks lol

- not into jewelry much at all, but he wouldn't not, for like an afternoon. his preference would be rings (partly because it'd be a nice weapon what with his familiarity with brass knuckles lol)

- acts annoyed and says it's soo dumb if his partner puts a tiara on his head, he looks stupid with it on, etc. would wear it the rest of the night tho. (((in private))))

and he’d be so pretty :3

- he doesn't mind his height much, but he would experiment with 1 (one) pair of heels. it's either kitten heels or platforms with no in-between.

- Levi doesn't hate his body lol, but he doesn't like it either?

but, he can learn to kind of like his naturally feminine features because they remind him of his mother. like his slender hands, his waist, and narrow shoulders.

- for season 4, Levi's hair was almost made to be longer (link). and if this were the case, he'd wear it down from time to time. a high ponytail, pin his bangs back with a pretty beret (like this), and/or tie a small braid on the side :3

- he wouldn’t be into wigs? even with a hat/ he’d be itchy and feel stuffy under there. plus he’s happy with his hair as-is

- cross dressing for him was like a snowballing that started with buying perfume and looking at blouses in storefronts until he just realized one day while brushing his fingers over a dress hanging up on his closet door that this is seriously abnormal lol.

- but he wouldn’t put effort into hiding it from himself. it’s not hurting anyone, no one knows whom he doesn’t trust with the information, and life is too short to be concerned with being a man wearing women’s clothes

- all of this considered Levi is a fashion trendsetter regardless of gender

#levi aot #snk levi #snk levi ackerman #levi ackerman hc #aot hc #levi ackerman headcanons #levi rivaille #rivaille ackerman #lance corporal rivaille #rivaille heichou #aot levi #aot levi ackerman #captain levi

[hb-writes]

Ch. 2 - Doesn't Mean It's True

Just because a pretty girl tells you a story doesn't mean it's true.

"It's Charlotte Specter. C-H-A-R-L-O-T-T-E space S-P-E-C-T-E-R," Charlie repeated herself for the third time, her frustration coming out as she let her head fall against the marble counter of the lobby's security desk. "Maybe she listed it as Charlie Specter. Do you have Charlie Specter listed?"

It wasn't the type of mistake that Donna tended to make. She always registered Charlie with her government name, the one listed on all of her identification cards. It was easier that way, but you never know. Even Donna was allowed an off day, and at this point, Charlie was ready to give out her middle name, date of birth, and social security number—whatever it took to gain access to her brother's office.

The man across the desk shook his head even as Charlie passed her school ID across the desk to the bored-looking suit on the other side accompanied by a New York Public Library card and the credit card that held both Charlotte and Harvey's names—for emergencies.

"Come on," Charlie groaned. "You've seen me here a million times before. My brother works at Pearson-Hardman. Harvey Specter. Senior Partner. Big corner office…kind of an important person in the building."

Harvey wouldn't like hearing her using that description to get her way and part of her even cringed as she muttered it, feeling like just as much of an entitled brat as the words made her sound, but she and the security officer had been at it for over ten minutes and a line was forming behind her.

"I'm sorry, miss. Mr. Specter doesn't have any visitors registered for this afternoon," he answered, barely concealing the shrug of his shoulders. "I can't let you up there without an appointment."

Charlotte groaned, pulling her forms of identification back and stashing them in her bag.

"That's probably because he wasn't expecting me to get out of school so early and he's been busy in meetings so he hasn't gotten any of his messages yet. I swear I'm his sister. I come here at least once a week. I have to be in your stupid system."

Charlie's fist slammed down on the counter. She wasn't usually like this. She usually treated the security team well. But this guy…he just stared back at her, eyebrow raised, unimpressed.

"You know what? Why don't you just call Donna, then. She'll verify. Donna Paulsen."

Charlie started to list off Donna's direct line, which she had committed to memory years ago but the man held up a hand to silence her while he dialed the number. Of course he already knew Donna's number. He didn't need her to tell him. Charlie didn't even utter a thank you as he waved her through to the elevators less than a minute later.

Charlie let out a frustrated huff, dropping her bag to the floor when she finally reached her brother's office. Donna glanced up from the computer screen for a moment while she continued typing, assessing the girl in a mere glance.

Charlotte's school blazer was slung carelessly over her shoulder, her white oxford shirt pulled out of the top of her maroon plaid shirt, the sleeves carelessly rolled up to her elbows, purposefully slouchy. The top few buttons were undone, revealing the lace-lined tank top beneath, and she wore sheer black tights with her black booties. Donna smirked. Charlie Specter had changed so significantly from the little girl in pigtails Harvey had introduced her to years ago, now skirting along the edges of her school's dress code as if it was a sport.

"Nice shoes," Donna commented.

"Thanks," Charlie answered, admiring them herself as she pulled her heel up off the ground. "I just got 'em."

Donna hummed. "Dress code changed recently?"

Charlotte shrugged and Donna smiled before sighing. "I know you know better than to irritate our good friends in security, Charlie. They do a very important job down there."

"He was the one irritating me," Charlie answered. "Must be new. And a complete goddamn imbecile."

Donna hummed again. The guy was new, but he was far from an imbecile. Donna liked him, actually. She momentarily directed her attention back to her computer screen, glancing at an incoming email.

Charlie leaned into the desk, pressing the heel of her palm against her cheek as she watched Donna read. "So, I think it's a good thing I got out early. I'm actually not feeling so well. I think I might be a little feverish."

"You poor thing," Donna murmured as she pulled her eyes from the email, her fingers still busy typing a quick response before she turned to look at the girl again. Her gaze tracing the contours of Charlie's face. "You're feeling feverish?"

Donna knew it was bullshit, but she didn't fault Charlie for trying.

"A little," Charlie answered, nodding her head.

Donna frowned at the computer screen once more before turning her chair to face Charlotte completely. "I already spoke to Oliver. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know." Charlie loosened a breath, putting her head down for a moment before looking back to Donna. "I was there…but don't you think Harvey has enough to deal with without us adding a silly little thing like this to his schedule? We could just let it go."

"You know what, Charlie?" Donna said, nodding her head, considering it before offering Charlie a smile. "I think you're right."

Charlie sighed. "Donna, I knew you would—" Charlie started, only to be halted in her celebration when Donna stood from her chair and leaned over the desk, causing Charlie to pull back.

"You are absolutely right," Donna continued. "Your brother's schedule is demanding enough right now without adding your careless behavior to it. He's been booked this entire week, and to tell you the truth, I wouldn't be surprised if this puts him right over the edge. Do you think I've been looking forward to telling him about this? His day is already full, Charlotte. Completely full."

Donna looked pointedly at the girl. She had an endlessly growing soft spot for Harvey's sister, but Donna was protective of Harvey's professional life—their shared professional life. When it came down to it, Donna supposed she was probably just protective of Harvey in general. She tried to spare him most inconveniences when she could. And dealing with Charlie when she did things like this was certainly an inconvenience. One that always put Harvey in a funk. A mood. One she'd be dealing with for days, at least.

"I'm sorry," Charlie answered honestly. "Really, I am. And isn't that all the better reason to just keep the message to ourselves then?"

The eye contact she held with Donna was so intent, so pleading that Charlie didn't notice as her brother approached, passing behind her on his way to his office. Without a word to either of them, Harvey tapped Charlie on the shoulder, beckoning for her to follow in his wake.

Charlie shut her eyes for a moment and then turned to watch her brother, unable to get any true sense of his mood from his body language alone. By the time she glanced back at Donna, the woman was back at her computer.

"Better get in there, little chick," she offered without sparing Charlie even a glance.

Charlie sighed, but rushed to pick up her bag and follow after her brother into his office.

"Why are you here and what message are you begging Donna to keep from me?"

The door hadn't even closed all of the way, but Harvey was already leaning against the front of his desk, arms folded across his chest as he watched his sister take a few tentative steps forward.

Fuck. Charlie stopped a few paces away from him, his question left unanswered for a few seconds longer as she checked over her shoulder to see that Donna was still at her desk, seemingly uninterested in their conversation. Charlie knew she was listening in, but she didn't really mind that. She was more concerned about the prospect of Donna joining them.

"Just um…" Charlie turned back to her brother as she hiked her bag up over her shoulder. "I got sent home early. I'm a little…a little sick to my stomach. I just didn't want to bother you with it. I know you're busy."

"You're a little sick to your stomach?" Harvey asked, the words sounding so stupid to Charlie now as she heard them repeated through her brother's doubtful lips. Harvey pushed off the desk to close the distance between them and placed the back of his hand to his sister's forehead. He silently transferred his hand around the back of Charlie's neck, the skin there easily accessible because her long hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and the tie typically wrapped around her collar was nonexistent, stuffed into her bag. As Harvey held his hand to Charlie's skin, he noted that his sister's cheeks were a bit flushed. She felt warm to her brother's touch, but not by much. Certainly not enough to warrant getting sent home. Harvey left his hand resting on the back of Charlie's neck as he studied her face.

"You really don't feel well?" he asked, trying to catch her gaze though she wasn't looking up to him. If anything, she was avoiding him.

Charlie nodded, her eyes held closed for a few moments, her stomach flipping, making her wonder if she'd actually manifested a sudden illness.

Harvey continued studying her for a few breaths, letting the silence stretch on between them. Harvey sighed. "Alright," he said. "You can take a nap here. I'll have Donna order you some soup and maybe Mike can take you to the doctor on his lunch break."

Charlie gave a quick shake of her head. She wasn't eager for Mike to lose his lunch break and she knew Donna wouldn't be happy about ordering soup for her. She also wasn't eager to see a doctor who would diagnose her as nothing more than a liar.

"It's okay. I think I just need some rest. Maybe Ray could just drop me off at home?"

She looked up at him then, Harvey's face a bit unreadable, though his voice was gentle when he asked. "Is that what you want?"

Charlie nodded, something like relief coursing through her, but then Harvey let out something close to an amused snort and Charlie tensed up.

"Yeah," Harvey said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure that's exactly what you want." He raised his voice a bit to call Donna's name as he glanced at her through the glass, asking for his messages.

There was no response from the secretary. Donna was still seated at her desk outside the office, but Charlie knew she only had a few seconds at best before Donna complied with her brother's wishes in one way or another.

Harvey glanced down at his sister again, his hand still settled on the back of her neck. "Anything you feel inclined to tell me before I listen to those messages?"

Charlie didn't answer that. She shrugged out of her brother's grip and tossed her bag on the couch, a sulk finding its way to her face. She wasn't entirely certain if there had been a right way to play this, a way to handle it where she wouldn't have been found out, but if there had been a way, this clearly hadn't been it.

"Take a seat," Harvey said as he headed toward his own chair. Harvey stared at her as she settled, waiting for her gaze to find his. "Are you going to tell me the truth from the start or should I just go ahead and get Oliver on the phone right now?"

Charlie hesitated for a second too long and Harvey shifted, his hand inching towards the phone, spurring Charlie's tongues and lips to start moving, those parts of her body working to save her even if her brain wasn't quite caught up with or approving of the plan. "Harvey, it's stupid, really. I swear. I actually—"

Harvey chuckled, but pulled his hand back from the phone. "Kid, I'm going to stop you right there."

"But Harv—"

"No, Charlie." Harvey shook his head. Just once. Just enough frustration sowed in the movement that Charlie didn't interrupt him despite the pause in his words, a clear way in, "I want the truth. Not just your version of it. Not a story. The truth."

"Well, it's actually a funny stor—"

"I don't want a story, Charlotte," Harvey interrupted. "I want the truth."

"Same thing," she offered, knowing even as she said it that there was some type of difference between stories and truth, or there could be. Stories could be true. Or they could be embellished a bit. And there was something to be said about the way it was all delivered. She knew that well as Harvey did, so Charlie wasn't surprised when her brother shut her down once again, his tone a bit sharper this time.

"It's not," Harvey snapped. "Just because a pretty girl gives you a story, doesn't mean it's true. Especially when it's someone as clever as you."

It was a backhanded compliment and it caught Charlie up for only a moment as Harvey placed his hand on the phone once again. Charlie pushed herself out of the chair, clapping her hand down on his phone before he could do anything.

Harvey lifted one of his eyebrows and snorted, but leaned back in his chair.

"Alright, then. Go ahead," he said, gesturing toward her with a hand. "Just keep in mind that I'm a lawyer. And I'm your brother. And I know you better than anyone, so don't perjure yourself."

Charlie removed her hand from the phone, taking a small step back to her seat. "I'm not under oath, but I won't," she said as she once again settled herself in the chair, allowing herself a moment to plan. To figure out where to start.

"You can start by not fumbling with your skirt."

Charlie's fingers immediately released her skirt. She looked up to find her brother's baiting grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched her. Charlie looked away and forced herself to take a deep breath. She willed herself not to be bothered.

"Confidence is key, kid."

Charlie dragged her eyes to him again and Harvey winked at her. He winked, and something broke loose in the depths of Charlie's already withering sense of control. A hot white flash of anger flowed through her.

"Fine," she nearly shouted, her hands slamming down on the arms of her chair. "You know what? I don't even care if you get mad."

Harvey leaned forward in his chair no longer feigning his interest in what his sister had to say, but Charlotte didn't continue right away. If she'd continued, he wouldn't have been getting what he wanted anyway. She wouldn't start off with telling him what had happened at school. She'd start off with a few choice words about him goading her. And they were well deserved, maybe. Harvey had been taunting her a bit, but wasting her sudden loose lips on a few well-placed insults wasn't productive, so Harvey let her compose herself just a bit.

The older Charlie got, the more frustrating she found the depth to which her brother knew her, knew people in general. He could read a room. He understood behavior and habits. And he understood her. Harvey was—and always had been—a great predictor of Charlie's moods and behaviors, her intentions. And to be that well understood—to be so thoroughly anticipated at every turn—was at once a great comfort and a great frustration.

Harvey often knew what Charlie would do before she knew she would do it. He could put words to the thoughts being considered in his sister's head before they became completely molded. And in moments like these, that keen awareness of his didn't serve Charlie well.

"Alright, let's hear it then," Harvey finally said, chuckling as his sister's eyes darkened.

Harvey hoped that his sister would learn to control her frustration and act with a little less impulsivity as she approached adulthood. Both traits served him well now. They served him well in moments like these, but Harvey knew she would need to make herself into less of an easy read if Charlie didn't want to be taken advantage of.

"Harvey, my office, now."

Jessica poked her head in Harvey's office, her gaze sliding over the pair of them. She smiled for a moment when she saw Harvey's sister sitting across from him and she offered Charlie a greeting, her voice much warmer than it had been when she summoned Harvey just seconds before.

Harvey pulled his eyes away from his sister long enough to acknowledge Jessica's presence, but not so long as to miss Charlie make a conscious shift as she wiped the doom and gloom from her face to greet the managing partner.

Charlie smiled as she said hello and Harvey gave a light snort and shook his head, gestures Jessica narrowed her eyes at. Jessica liked the girl, an assertive thing. She had a lot to learn, but Jessica liked that Charlie gave her brother a hard time. Harvey dealing with Charlie was like Harvey having to deal with a little dose of himself, and Jessica had noted on more than one occasion that Charlie made Harvey a little more human. It was good for him.

"How's school?" Jessica asked.

"Good," Charlotte answered quickly. "Straight A's."

"Very good. Keep it up." Jessica nodded before shifting her gaze across the desk. "Harvey, I'll be in my office."

Harvey nodded and Jessica let the door close while both Specters watched her walk down the hall. Harvey promptly stood while buttoning his jacket. Despite his interest in whatever his sister had to say, his work had to come first. He couldn't, and wouldn't, let Jessica wait for too long.

"We're not finished here," Harvey said as he took a step around the desk, stopping beside his sister and waiting for him to look up at him. "Stay here. Get started on your homework."

Charlie didn't answer him. She turned her face away from him, probably to roll her damn eyes so Harvey gave her something else to roll her eyes about before stepping out to meet with Jessica.

LTLB Masterlist (Everything)

LTLB Masterlist (Chapters)

Chapter 3

#suits tv #suits #suits usa #suits netflix #suits fanfic #harvey specter #donna paulsen #jessica pearson #charlie specter

[leiawritesstories]

Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm........hi

this obviously is not the promised/anticipated FTBF update, but instead is something completely different! because my brain is just Like That! anyway, here, have this little something that i don't entirely know what to do with so i'm just gonna leave it here.

word count: ~2.5k

enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was completely and utterly petrified.

She rested one elegant hand on the smooth, polished marble railing and stared out over the gently rippling waters of the Great Ocean, eyes closed, feeling the early-evening breeze waft across her face. She'd only been standing like that for a moment before booted footsteps clicked on the tiled flooring behind her and a man's voice broke into her reverie.

"Ah, there you are, little cousin." Aedion Ashryver, her cousin who was three years her senior and absolutely insufferable about it, strolled through the delicate curtains, coming to stand by her side. "Have you been hiding away up here this whole time?"

Aelin rolled her eyes. "I do not hide away, Aedy." The deliberate use of his childhood nickname aimed to irritate.

The prince huffed. "Then what do you call it when you conveniently forget to make an appearance for our guests?"

"You neither needed nor wanted me at that men's meeting," she returned coolly. "I simply did you the favor of not interrupting."

"Bullshit," Aedion muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is your future we are talking about, Aelin, you do know that?"

"My future is all I ever hear about," she scoffed. "At least do me the favor of flattering my intelligence and call it what it is--the next step in your scheme to retake the throne."

Aedion wrapped his hand around her bared bicep, turning her to face him. "Fine." His eyes, the turquoise hue twin to her own, bored into hers. "Your marriage to Prince Whitethorn is a key step in our journey to reclaim our rightful throne. Understood?"

"Kind of you to refer to it as ours," she snorted. "Aedion, we have been in Wendlyn for ten years, and now you decide that this is the time?"

He sighed heavily. "I cannot expect--"

"If you finish that sentence, I will personally tear off your ears and stuff them down your throat," Aelin snapped. "Do remind me who insisted that I be by your side at all important meetings since the day Galan took us in?"

Aedion had the grace to flush slightly. "All right, I won't be an ass."

"Too late for that."

He poked her shoulder. "Please, Aelin, I...I don't want to force you to anything any more than you want to be forced."

"Yet clearly, that want only goes so far." Freeing herself from his halfhearted grasp, she took a step back, rooting herself in the last embers of the falling sun's warmth. "Tell me, Aed--when the Whitethorns approached you offering their armada in exchange for my hand, how long did it take you to cave?"

His face shuttered. "Good night, Aelin." Spinning sharply on his heel, he stalked out of her rooms, the rapid click of his bootheels indicating his muffled ire.

"Aed--"

"Don't." The soft warning sounded off to the left.

Aelin turned, her right hand straying towards the slender knife she kept strapped to her upper thigh, the steel politely hidden by her gauzy skirts. "Who's there?"

"Just me." Philippa, who had been Aelin's lady's maid since she came to Wendlyn, emerged from the door to the bathing room. "Your cousin will come to his senses; he just needs to see it."

Aelin sighed and tugged the pins from her hair, letting the soft blonde waves cascade down her back. "If he'd only been open about this visit being a marriage negotiation, I wouldn't have such a problem with the whole thing." She yanked the ties of her dress, allowing the sheer layers of fabric to fall loose on her frame as she entered the bathing room. "I knew I would not get to decide the time of my marriage, but..."

Philippa's motherly face softened in sympathy. "But you deserve more than an order, Highness."

"Don't call me that," Aelin mumbled, stepping gracefully out of her dress. "How many times do I have to tell you, just call me Aelin?"

"At least once more, my lady," Philippa teased.

Grumbling, Aelin stepped into the huge, sunken tub--really, it was more of a pool--wincing slightly at the faint twinge of pain when the hot water hit the scars clawing across her back. After four years carrying the marks, she thought she'd be used to the faint hints of pain that still cropped up.

She was not.

Drawing in a deep inhale, Aelin submerged herself into the bath's scalding embrace, closing her eyes against the water. Odd as it may seem, she'd never been bothered by the heat, instead finding it comforting--even when others would not even be able to get into the tub until it had been tempered with cooler water. She allowed herself exactly sixty seconds to luxuriate beneath the bath's surface before standing up, steaming water cascading off of her body, and settling down on a step.

As her lady's maid helped her bathe, Aelin once again let her gaze drift out the windows, watching the Great Ocean shift and stir under the darkening sky. Watching the ripples and crests of the waves.

Looking east, back towards the seven kingdoms that were her right to reclaim.

~

It was far too godsdamned early for this nonsense.

Prince Rowan Whitethorn shifted in his saddle, pressing a soothing hand to his horse's neck. Shh, Chiri, we will ride soon. He didn't know why the hell Aedion Ashryver had requested this...business to happen at the crack of dawn, but a promise was a promise.

And, if he was being completely honest, Rowan didn't think he would mind if his first sight of Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was something of a bleary memory, given the early hour.

Arranged marriage tended to do that to a person.

Conceptually, Rowan completely understood and even agreed with the rationale. Doranelle and the Whitethorn clan were ancient, powerful, and filthy rich--just what the last two living Ashryvers needed to back their claim to the Erilean throne. And the Ashryvers were no struggling pair, either. The two cousins might have been the last of their line, but they brought the legendary power of the Ashryver-Galathynius line--the dynasty even older than the Whitethorns and rumored to have dormant fire magic sleeping in its veins. And a rather staggering fortune squirreled away in foreign banks.

So, when Aedion and Galan Ashryver had reached out to Ellys a few months ago, it had taken Rowan's lovely (if somewhat rash) uncle all of ten minutes to decide that he was going to send Rowan off to marry the foreign princess. Of course, he sent a full contingent of Whitethorn family, warriors, and personnel along, but Rowan knew that if Ellys had ordered him to go alone, he would have gone alone.

After all, he was the Whitethorn prince--maybe he wasn't the head of the clan, but he was the head of the army. And that certainly counted for something.

Resisting the urge to glance at the rising sun for some hint of the time, Rowan muffled a yawn.

To his right, his cousin Endymion coughed quietly. "You could at least pretend to be happy on your betrothal day."

"Piss off," Rowan grumbled.

Enda smirked. "Where's the grinning groom?"

"He'd be grinning a whole lot more if this whole damn business wasn't so...contractual." Rowan frowned. "It's not like I don't understand why this has to happen, I'd just rather not have it all so suddenly."

"Right." Enda offered a small, crooked half-grin of condolence. "The princess is probably in the same position, y'know. Maybe you'll find some consolation in that."

"Always with the optimism," Rowan grunted.

Enda beamed. "Much better outlook than your infernal grouchiness."

"Why don't you--oh." All the breath suddenly and unexpectedly rushed out of Rowan's lungs, his calculating emerald gaze trained on the stone stairs in front of the Whitethorn contingent.

Where a golden-haired woman who looked eerily like the female version of Aedion Ashryver was descending the stairs, her expression carefully placid, her sharp turquoise eyes trained onto Rowan.

Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

His...his fiancée.

With Aedion and a handful of guards and staff at her back, Aelin strode down the stone steps with all the royal confidence of her ancient bloodline, stopping a pace away from him. Rowan found himself mildly shocked at how small she appeared from his perch atop Chiri. Her stature, though, was no match for the fire blazing in her sea-glass eyes.

Finding himself unable to speak, Rowan simply nudged his horse slightly forwards, locking his eyes onto the princess's. There was a long, rather tense, beat of silence.

Then he reached down, swung Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius up into his saddle, settling her in front of him, wheeled Chiri about, and galloped down the drive in a cloud of dust and gravel.

Aedion blinked. "That went...well?"

Enda chuckled. "If Rowan had decided he didn't approve of the princess, we would know. Trust me, Ashryver."

"Why do I find that concerning?" Aedion muttered. He tipped his head at the contingent behind him.

"Let's go."

~

Aelin's brain still hadn't caught up with the fact that she was currently sitting in the same saddle as Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle, the famed warrior-prince of Wendlyn. Or that he'd been remarkably gentle despite the brute force of the way he swung her up into his saddle.

Or that she was going to be married to him at sundown.

Rowan reined in his stallion at the edge of Galan's grounds. "We can wait for the others to catch up," he said, the deep rumble of his voice surprising her.

"So you're not the kind to run off with your bride, then?" Aelin snarked, the barbed comment slipping out before she could think twice about it.

Rowan's eyes widened--in shock or outrage or interest, she couldn't tell. "No."

"Mmm." She tilted her head. "I thought a warrior prince would be more interesting."

He pressed his lips together, definitely trying not to snort. "Are you implying that you wanted your betrothed to run off with you?"

Just like that, reality slammed into her. "Right. Betrothed."

The prince--gods, no, this was not the time to start thinking about his admittedly rather attractive appearance--loosed a soft, short sigh. "Does it feel like a business contract to you, too?"

For some reason she couldn't name, she decided to be honest. "I'm a princess, Prince. My marriage was always going to be little more than a business contract."

"Call me Rowan," he responded, and Aelin nearly laughed.

"Rowan, then," she offered, rolling his name on her tongue. "All right, but only if you call me Aelin."

"Aelin." He pronounced her name with such care, the syllables flowing with the dips of his accent. "I...I can't honestly say I expected the betrothal process to go like this."

"But here we are," she mumbled.

"Here we are," he agreed. "And--"

And then Enda, Aedion, and the rest of the contingent appeared, and whatever conversation might have been beginning was abruptly cut short.

~

The actual marriage ceremony itself was short and simple and something of a blur. Aelin didn't quite remember repeating the priestess's words, didn't quite remember the sash tied around her and Rowan's hands, binding the two together. She didn't quite remember the following feast, barely even tasted the rich array of foods laid out before her. She twisted the plain gold band around her left ring finger, wondering how something so small and simple could possibly represent something so wholly life-altering.

As the sun began to descend, Philippa and a Whitethorn woman came to Aelin's sides and led her away from the feast to a private tent, where they helped her out of her ornate wedding gown and into a sheer, flowing nightgown. They loosed her hair from its complicated braids, allowing the golden waves to spill down her back unfettered, and took all her jewelry except her wedding band and the delicate golden necklace she always wore.

They led her out to a waiting horse and cart and handed her into the seat, murmuring quiet goodbyes and good wishes and reminders that she could just close her eyes and let her mind roam. Then the driver nudged the horse into motion, and Aelin was taken away.

She was dropped off near a rock outcropping with an absolutely stunning view of the Great Ocean. It was to that view that she turned, sighing faintly at the caress of the sun's fading warmth, letting her eyes drift over the blaze of colors painting the sunset sky. She closed her eyes and felt the evening breeze kiss her skin and lift her hair, rooting herself in the peace of that moment.

Once again, footsteps behind her broke into her peace. This time, though, the footsteps were her husband's.

Rowan stopped a pace or two away from her, his jaw slightly agape as he drank in the sight of her. In the fading sunlight, the long silvery strands of his braid glinted golden, a few stray ones loose and waving in the breeze, framing the sharp angular planes of his face. "Aelin," he whispered, her name a caress.

She turned to face him, showing down the fear that welled up within her. Not fast enough, though, because the flicker that crossed his face told her he'd seen it.

"I won't."

She blinked. "What?"

He raised his hands, palms up. "Unless and until you tell me to, I won't touch you, Aelin."

A surge of deep gratitude swept over her. "Thank you, Rowan," she whispered, suddenly finding the man attractive in more ways than just his appearance.

A tiny smile flicked across his face. "I have a gift for you."

She raised a brow. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Come here." He held out a hand. Aelin slipped her hand into his, something sparking in her blood at the feel of his large, warm, calloused hand wrapped around hers. He led her down the ledge to where his horse and another mare were hobbled, led her up to the mare's side. "Her name is Kasida."

"Rowan," Aelin breathed, incredulous. "An Asterion?"

Her husband's lips quirked upwards. "The Whitethorn clan has something of a fondness for rare breeds of horses; there are several Asterion mares and a few stallions in our stables." He tugged the end of his braid, a little nervously. "I...thought Kasida would be a proper gift for my wife. For the Ashryver and Galathynius heiress."

Aelin's heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness, his sincerity. Almost before she registered it, she rose up onto her toes and pecked a kiss against Rowan's cheek. "She's beautiful."

Rowan's tiny smile grew, curling his lips further upwards. "Here," he murmured. "Let me help you up." Cupping his hands, he boosted Aelin into the saddle, then smoothly mounted his stallion. "Ready?"

Once she'd adjusted herself in the saddle, Aelin nodded. "I am."

And together, the Prince of Doranelle and the heir to the Ashryver-Galathynius dynasty galloped off into the night.

~~~

A/N: most of this scene and concept comes from the first season of Game of Thrones, with some alterations for the TOG characters and world.

~

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added/removed!

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

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@llyncooljones

#my writing #throne of glass #tog au #got au #because...brain be like that #also you canNOT convince me the ashryvers aren't the targaryens #it's just the truth #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #aedion ashryver

[smartycvnt]

The Board

Pairing: Rita Calhoun x Reader

Prompt: 6. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to bend you over that table during the meeting."

Warnings: smut, top Rita, bottom reader, vaginal fingering

NR

WC: 1589

The downside to becoming the leading divorce lawyer at your firm was that you had to sit through so every major meeting that one of the partners decided to hold. Rita wasn't too bad about calling meetings, but you had a major bone to pick with the other partner. He was notorious for being a huge asshole and had essentially bought his way into becoming partner with his parents' money. The man was practically incompetent. However, he still had the majority of the control. Most of his meetings, you sat there not paying attention until he called on you for an update on how things were doing on the divorce side of the firm.

You always had positive things to say. You had perfected the way to appeal to your clients, enough so that you personally had a waiting list. Everybody found you by reputation at this point. However, your appearance played a big part in how things went afterwards. A lot of the men, who tended to be kind of sleazy, liked all the short skirts and nearly-sheer blouses. The women required a bit more professionalism. You worked for a very high society group, usually the ones who were too young to fully grasp all of the things that should go into a prenup. Today, you had met with a 24 year old heir to some boat company and dealership out of Saratoga. He was definitely the kind who spent 90% of your meetings together just staring down the front of your shirt and nodding along to whatever you told him.

"Alright, that is enough for today," Rita said, effectively concluding the meeting. You sent her a grateful nod, glad that she put an end to her firm partner's rambling. You were about to get up and leave to go back to your own office, but Rita nodded for you to follow her instead. It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to get lunch together at work. People knew that you were friends from childhood, but there was a lot that they had no idea about. Technically, you weren't married yet, but you might as well have been. Each of you did have something that you wore for the other symbolically like that anyways. Rita had the white gold bracelet you had gotten her from Tiffany's, and you had the pinky ring with Rita's birthstone on it, worn as a promise to always be with her.

"I am free after this to get drinks if you are," you offered. Rita shook her head as she sat down on the edge of her desk in front of you. You frowned, assuming that she had to go to court after this. You hated later court days. It felt like Rita was constantly in court to you, but maybe it was because you rarely ever went to court. You handled divorces, but unless it was a special case, you wouldn't take custody cases. Those were much messier in your opinion. "Court?"

"Carisi wants to talk deals to avoid that, actually. I didn't call you in here to talk about my case, and you know that," Rita said as she pulled your chair a little closer to her. Your breath hitched as Rita leaned forward quickly, her face just a couple inches from yours. Rita studied you for any hesitation and smirked when she saw none. You parted your lips slightly because you could tell from the look in her eyes what kind of kiss this was going to be. Rita had been thinking about this moment and the ones that would follow it. You wondered how long she had been thinking about bringing you back to her office. You hadn't worn this into the office today, but you always kept a couple of outfit changes for throughout the day. Usually, you met with multiple clients and not all of them required the same image.

"I don't think you wanted me in here to talk at all. In fact, I'm a little surprised you didn't just turn the cameras in the meeting room off." You leaned back in your seat as you uncrossed your legs. Rita stepped off of the desk and leaned over your chair to trap you back to it. Even if she wasn't standing in your way, you never would have tried to get up. Rita could keep you here for as long as she wanted to. You had nothing else to do all day except for go home and wait for her. You knew that when you got home, you'd get an extended version of whatever happened in this office, but you were in no rush to get there. You wanted to experience everything you could with Rita.

Rita leaned forward to kiss you once again, just as feverishly as the first one had been. You could feel heat bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as Rita continued to kiss you. You could taste the expensive coffee on the tip of her tongue. Rita's hands fell to your hips, just barely bunching up the bottom of your skirt. Rita did know what was underneath your clothes for the day and had almost been late this morning because of it. Your stomach fluttered as you thought about the way she had tried touching you while you had been getting ready that morning. This time, she was successful in getting you where she wanted you, even if she couldn't properly enjoy it the way she really wanted to.

"You have no idea how badly I wanted to bend you over that table during the meeting. I can't focus on anything when you look this fucking good," Rita mumbled between the kisses she pressed along your neck. You let out a sharp gasp as Rita's teeth scraped against your skin briefly. You could feel the low chuckle coming from her against your skin as she continued to press on. She undid a couple more buttons to fully expose your chest. There was a darkness to the usual softness in her eyes when she looked at you. You swallowed as her fingers brushed against the front of your lace underwear.

You gripped the arm rests of Rita's chair tightly as she pressed a little harder. Rita could definitely feel the heat and wetness through the lace. Your underwear were most likely ruined, but you didn't mind. Rita would buy you countless other pairs because she loved the way you looked in lace. Her fingers pushed the lace over to the side and gently dipped between your folds, as if she needed to test how wet you were. You knew that she was just teasing you, making you wait a little so that you'd get desperate. Rita loved getting you desperate and making you wait for what you wanted. She liked playing games, something that you had gotten used to after nearly a decade of being with her.

"This can't all be from just now. Were you thinking about me when you put that outfit on in your office earlier? Did you think of me calling you in here for parading yourself around like that? What did you think I'd do to you Y/n?" Rita asked. Question after question went in one ear and out the other as she touched you. You began to really lose your focus, unable to mutter any answered beside a simple 'yes' or 'no'. Rita had you right where she wanted you, a bumbling mess with her fingers inside of you. One of her hands came up to cover your mouth, certain by now that the walls in her office were not soundproofed. The meeting rooms were, but the personal offices weren't. Rita knew the kind of clients that occasionally came asking for her help, so you didn't blame her for wanting that extra bit of security, even if it was annoying in the moment.

Rita kept her hand clamped over your mouth as you came, but some of the noise still escaped you. Rita removed the hand from between your legs before the one over your mouth. Your lipstick was beyond repairable, so you spent the next couple of moments making sure that it was completely wiped away. Rita watched you get ready to leave her office, fixing anything on your person that needed to be fixed. You may have been walk of shaming it out of the office, but not everybody needed to know that. Rita was tempted to let you use her executive elevator, but that always seemed to rub others the wrong way. And Rita did not feel like dealing with another series of passive aggressive emails from people who didn't know how to mind their own business.

"Don't stay out too long please. Oh, and give Sonny my love," you told her. Rita rolled her eyes as she nodded. Barba had been her buddy at the DA's office, and Sonny was yours. Rita didn't understand how or when the two of you had gotten so close, even if she was glad that both of you were good friends. Despite how much of a pain in her ass the entirety of SVU could be, she did think that they were good people, especially Sonny.

"I will. Behave yourself until I get home." Rita gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as she led you out of her office. You made a stop by your own office to grab your coat while Rita called cars for the two of you.

#rita calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #svu x reader #svu #my writing

[jotun-design-party]

Hey I was wondering, by your example of the harmful design does what if! Loki sort of follow this harmful trope? I know this is based on aos loki but just as an example that kind of thing.

And also I’ve seen a lot of jotnar portrayed with minimal clothing and mostly only armor in like canon media not just fanon and I thought that was purely because they are more immune to the cold and don’t need to try and get warm but I may be mistaken. Are you saying that is also harmful or just if it is sexualized?

These questions are purely just to understand your meaning and not to be critical or anything! Thanks so much! This event looks super fun!

hi, yes! good [timezone.] no worries, i'm very happy to answer questions & please forgive if my syntax is weird today, i have a chronic disability which causes some brain fog during flare-ups so my sentence structure might not be the most elegant. i WAS given a superpower to counter this (a disability which, for our purposes here, i will sum up as "it makes my vocabulary big") but for the sake of clarity i'll be responding with a bit of a shortened version of all of my thoughts so that it makes a little bit more sense. i can go more in-depth at a later time if needed

under the cut, summary:

What If jötnar are not nearly AS bad as a lot of the jötun art i've seen in fanon and canon so it gets a very hesitant green-light from me. and also the issue with putting jötnar in minimal clothes is that artists still tend to choose to dress them in clothing items that are associated with racist and offensive depictions of real-life people

+ some of my personal ideas about what jötnar might wear

the jötnar in What If do rely on some of the same antiblack and anti-american indigenous stereotypes that we see in the comics but their designs aren't NEARLY as caricature-y as the comic book designs are and they do a better job at making it look like something an alien would wear. still bad, but not NEARLY as bad as the comics, i'd give it a very hesitant green light

the main issue with jötnar being depicted in minimal clothing is that oftentimes, the artists choose clothing specifically related to these racist stereotypes to evoke imagery of the Assumed lifestyle of both the jötnar and the real life people who are affected by the stereotypes. this is an obviously satirical example because my brain isn't working well enough to think of a more genuine one, but it wouldn't be a problem if someone drew their jötnar to be running around in heart-print boxers pin-up posing, you know? the issue is largely that people make the choice to draw them in long sheer skirts draped with gold like orientalist stereotypes of women, or in loincloths and furs and bone piercings in their noses.

basically there are all sorts of ways to visually get across their cold immunity, and have them dressed minimally, without putting them in skirts and loincloths and stuff

----- the stuff down here ⬇️ are just my personal thoughts and dont have any bearing on the actual contest, just some of my ideas that you can read for fun if you so desire

and this is definitely more of a personal thing, but i don't Personally think it makes much sense to have jötnar dressed in minimal clothing even if they are immune to the cold. this is just because, snow still melts haha. so i don't think it makes too much logical sense to have them barefoot and without any sort of cloak to protect them from the weather. plus, light reflects off of snow and is known to give people sunburns, ao i like to cover up their skin too <- this however is all optional. it's fiction and it doesn't need to be really very practical it's just the sort of thing i enjoy thinking about so i wanted to share my thoughts

i defo do not have the spoons to bust out a thor mini so you're just going to have to use your imagination but this outfit i drew them in is also like all kinds of impractical for a human or an asgardian to wear in the snow :') i mean can you imagine going out into a blizzard wearing latex and an underboob window? i imagine that thor would be wearing fur-lined leather coats and thick pants and three layers of socks and heavy duty boots next to this bitch ⬇️

this isn't my definitive loki design though. i have a lot of thoughts bumping around in my head and art that i havent posted (and probably won't post) and this ⬆️ was just a quick example i busted out to give a visual difference

#orientalism #fandom culture #jotun loki #jötun loki #jotun design party #jötun loki contest #marvel #Q+A

[gladfang]

now that we have all 18 i'm posting my personal project voltage ranking :]

PSYCHIC TYPE MIKU - 4/10 it's fine. its the closest to base miku of all the designs? like this is what i'd imagine if we got a miku collab in the newest games. nothing about ti really says psychic type to me though, which is why its low

GRASS TYPE MIKU - 2/10 i hate this design. not only is it boring but i don't like the colours, i think it looks messy and it might be the style disconnect or the design itself but if you didn't tell me who this was i wouldn't think it was miku. a grass type cheerleader doesn't sound like a bad shout which is why im so sad it sucks

FIRE TYPE MIKU - 5/10 . its just basic. it gets one point more than psychic because i have fire type bias but other than that its underwhelming. idk whats going on with her legs either? is it like exposed robotics? idk its just a miss for me

WATER TYPE MIKU - 8/10 this is so cute. the water textured hair, the tan lines, the like lifeguard gear(?) and the pokeball beach ball? it all comes together so well. i don';t think you can really go wrong with a water type design? even if i don't love water types myself you can't deny their designs just come together

ELECTRIC TYPE MIKU - 10/10 oh baby girl my BIAS i fucking love electric miku. shifting her blue accents into green, giving her a suit and making her a split-dye blonde were all such good decisions. i love the silhouette of the big puff pants tucked into the rubber boots and the suspenders with the lightening cane. everything about this makes me so happy

NORMAL TYPE MIKU - 9/10 i might be going back on what i said with psychic miku but to me even though it's very reminicant of base miku, it works better AND does enough to set her in her own typing. the multicoloured accessories, the rings, the glasses and the body suit. if we ever did get a real collab of her in game i hope this is the direction they'd go

ICE TYPE MIKU - 8/10 full disclaimer so much of this is just because im obsessed with her hair and suit combo. shes not outright evil looking like dark type but i still feel like shes a rival with a lot of power, anbd tbf a lot of ice type characters are made to be Icy in personality. my only gripes are the red bag chain and the open heels

ROCK TYPE MIKU - 6/10 its fine! it might be because i dont like the colour scheme or that i'm not a huge fan of all the flowy fabric, (especially because it directly follows ice type miku which made a point to utalise the sharpness you'd associate with ice) but i just doesn't wow me.

GROUND TYPE MIKU - 7/10 i really love this design, i adore the colour scheme and the cactus braids, i think she looks like a trainer you'd be ambushed by in the desert and the soundtrack would kick up and it'd RULE... my drawback is i don't think she looks like miku? i thought she was gumi at first and now i can't really unsee it. but eh im nitpicking

FLYING TYPE MIKU - 5/10 again, i like it but its very standard for a flying type character. the cloud braids and the sheer sleeves are fun! they're definately my favouritre part of the design. idk why her legs are painted white, i think they look kind of silly and im confused about the platform sandles but other than that its fine

FAIRY TYPE MIKU - 6/10 a cute miku design for a cute pokemon type, can't really go wrong with that. i enjoy that they didn't go lolita style with her, which i fully assumed was going to the case, but instead a gal type with the fake nails and pleat skirt. i enjoy that its a different way of doing a look for miku we've seen plenty of times before

BUG TYPE MIKU - 6/10 i don't hate it! very simple but very effective. i like the segmented limbs, the insectoid braids, the wing bow that looks like butterfly wings. i'm just not super enthusiastic about the colours. maybe i'm just used to bug types being Creepier in my head so to just have her be cutesy is boring to me

POISON TYPE MIKU - 9/10 this is such a baity designnnn the only reason i didnt give it a 10 is because i hate that shade of green but thats a personal issue. the plastic baggy shoes, the toxtricity, the mad scientist goggles and latex gloves... it all comes together so beautifully. idk if its like too busy or again, maybe i just personally don't love the individual colours used. i really hope elements of this design are used for a future character

GHOST TYPE MIKU - 4/10 i honestly don't like this design. yeah lets make the ghost type miku... a ghost, and nothing else. i think it's really boring compared to all the other ones. the glitch element is really cool but that's... all thats going for it? the colour scheme is the same, the neon is boring and i think everything is very stylish for pokemon but idk i wish it was more unique

DARK TYPE MIKU - 10/10 babe holy shit. this is a gorgeous design, i'm so happy they went an evil miku route with it. i was going to say i wish there was more red, and then i noticed the underside of the hat in the other concept so i'm happy. shifting the cyan to the bottom of the design is a really good call. she looks expensive as she should

STEEL TYPE MIKU - 10/10 absolutely beautiful colour scheme, shifting everything to metalic shades of blue is perfect. i think it's my favourite overall. very strong typing without them just doing Robot which i assumed. LOVE the metal braids with the welded patches the most, and i jsut noticed theyre kind of shaped like leeks. the charm on the sandogasa and the arm/calf guards really bring it all together

FIGHTING TYPE MIKU - 8/10 the black, white and orange is gorgeous and i love the splash of green connecting to sir farfetched. i'm just not inlove with the leg split tbh, i think if it was a cape i'd like it more. i think my main drawback is idk it doesn't scream fighting type to me other than it being based on the pokemon

DRAGON TYPE MIKU - 9/10 AND IMMEDIATELY MY PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED. the cape really completes the knight motif of this design perfectly where i think the previous one lacked. the scale decor jumpsuit, the gauntlets and boots, the SWORD MIC and the tail braids. they really did keep getting better and whilst this isnt my favourite its such a strong finisher

#bzzt! is this thing on

[cannibalizedyke]

Hello Elia! The hugest congratulations on your super-deserved milestone! Can I request a 🕊with either Remus or TASM!Peter? (whoever you feel like writing for!) and a 🍰 for any fandom you write for? (I am a female bisexual). I apologize in advance for the sheer amount of oversharing I'm about to do...

- Tumblr Essentials: INTJ, 5w4, Slytherin, Cancer Sun (Libra Moon, Cancer Rising)

- Personality: I am very introverted and I feel most at home lost in thought (I want to understand everything about everything). I am independent to a fault and I love being by myself- I go shopping alone, I go to clubs alone (I live for every element of nightlife), I go to movies alone, etc. I find it very hard to relate to other people and form relationships that are important to me. I am told repeatedly that I am intimidating at first, however the few people I love I become a huge sweetheart with. Despite all this, I'm the furthest thing from shy. I'm not afraid of much, including speaking my mind, talking to strangers, and trying new things. My sense of humor is constant quips and dry remarks. I'm very sarcastic and blunt with my jokes.

- Likes: I love rock music. All of it. Especially fond of punk like the Ramones and the Sex Pistols. My first loves were the classics like AC/DC, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Aerosmith, Iron Maiden. Ok just a few more... the Cure, Nirvana, Hole, Bikini Kill... I love art. The weird kind, the uncomfortable kind. The abstract and surreal. I love literature (English Major!) and philosophy. All-time favorite authors are Stephen King, Hermann Hesse, Paulo Coelho, Albert Camus, Franz Kafka, and Joan Didion.

- Appearance: I'm 5'6" and very lean, I have long brown hair and super dark eyes, I am sickly pale 10/12 months in the year but somehow in the summer I become a super tan olive? I have 13 piercings in my ears, I wear a little swan around my neck that I never take off (gift from my mom), and I wear a single silver ring on each hand. I love feeling good in my clothes so a lot of my outfits are tight or skimpy. I try to keep from trashy but I love heels and mini-skirts and tank tops! I always wear my dad's leather jacket even when the weather does not agree, I am a sucker for a good pair of jeans, and I love my docs. Finally, I have two huge tattoos. A tiger down my back and a dragon below my left breast.

I'm abashed at how much I wrote about myself. Thank you for taking the time to get to know this anon!

gosh you sound so cool!! i'm obsessed with intjs lmao they're like celebrities to me. anyway i did it with remus just because i've gotten so many tasm!peter requests already! tysm for requesting (and for sharing so much about yourself hehe)

🕊 - send me a character and as much information about yourself as you’d like and i’ll write a blurb about what i think your relationship with that character would be like!

warnings: language, making out

Music blasted from your vintage record player, filling your ears with blessed rock music and your soul with a much needed sense of peace. Remus wouldn't be home for another hour, so you had about that long to attempt to amuse yourself. You'd picked your poison and it was blaring the Ramones on a record player.

A knock sounded at your door, successfully startling you, and you turned the dangerously loud music down to a reasonable volume. "Remus? I thought you wouldn't be home till six."

"Got off early." Your boyfriend leaned over you to peak into your room. "What're you listening to?"

"The Ramones," you told him, letting him in. "They're a muggle punk rock band."

"Huh." He listened for a moment, nodding his head along. "I like it."

You grinned. "Yeah?"

"They're cool. Bet Padfoot would like 'em."

"Give his parents a heart attack."

"Ah, but that's the basis of appeal to him." Remus winked at you.

You pulled him on top of you and kissed him passionately, savoring the unique taste of his lips. He cupped your face and kissed you back, moving his lips perfectly against yours.

"Y'know, there's something about making out while listening to rock music that's hot as fuck," you said after breaking apart momentarily.

Remus grinned. "I can't say you're wrong." He kissed you again.

🍰 - send me as much information about yourself as you’d like and i’ll ship you with a character!

honestly... i'm feeling thalia grace. i feel like y'all would bond over your love of punk rock music but your more rational and reserved nature would balance out her kind of volatile and more outgoing characteristics. also y'all would just be a super badass power couple everyone would be terrified of you and it would be great.

#elia's 700 follower celebration #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x gn!reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin #young!remus lupin x reader #young!remus lupin x you #young!remus lupin x y/n #young!remus lupin x gn!reader #young!remus lupin imagine #young!remus lupin fluff #young!remus lupin oneshot #young!remus lupin blurb #young!remus lupin drabble #young!remus lupin fanfiction #young!remus lupin fanfic #young!remus lupin fic #young!remus lupin #thalia grace x reader

[mcromoconfessions]

Oh my god I want to expand on that thought of being a little perv seeing them pee...

I'm at the bar and just got out for a smoke in the corner of the building facing the road, it's closing in 5 minutes anyway and there wasn't many people or cars around, I get halfway though my cig when I hear someone in heavy sounding boots walking out, they sound like they're taking small steps somewhere, and I can't help be a busybody and turn to see who is it.

Then I'm greeted with the sight of this person with messy hair, wearing a skirt that barely covered everything paired with sheer tights and tall platform lace up boots, easily a head taller than when with those boots on, walking around like they're looking for something. With their back towards me, I see their every step, and after the pacing they stop at a bush nearby. I guess they couldn't see or didn't bother with me being there.

Judging by their circumstance and behavior I thought they would puke or something, typical bar behavior. Then they hike up their skirt a little and I soon see a stream landing on the bush followed by moans of relief, no way they're pissing in public, I thought, I shouldn't have watched but I couldn't help but enjoy it like some scene while I smoke the last of my cig. Their knees bend a little and moans turn into little pants, and the stream slows down, I get a little turned on from the scene and by that point all my attention is occupied by them.

They had stopped, though their skirt was still a bit bunched up, at that point I completely forgot my existence and tried to shimmy into the alleyway hoping they wouldn't spot me, especially now I had a hard on, but when I moved my shoes had made a sound, alerting them of my presence. They turned around, eyes wide, face blushed and stared me down for a while before returning to meet eye-to-eye, giving me a coy smile as they walked a bit closer, "don't you know it's rude to stare at a lady like that?" I finally see their face, with that sweet voice, but I'm speechless and frozen, probably red from embarrassment.

They stand there a bit longer before walking closer, backing me to the wall and whispering "if you enjoyed being such a little voyeur, why don't you follow me like a little puppy so you can stare longer? My treat" and had their hands hovering over my crotch, at that point I'm so gone and I'll do whatever they say, following them to who knows where accepting anything they do to me...

.

#PH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD ANON ANON ANON ANON YOU NEED TO SAY MORE FUCK THAT #sorry I ugh #this #minors dni #g

[goji-pilled]

akechi anthony brainrot go brrrrrr, surprised a joke i made on anon got to this point.

December YX, 20ZX - Six Months After HQ Disbanded

At the heart of the recent Mitikihara Skyscraper construction site

"Gh-ack!"

Flying through the air into a soft pile of plywood and steel poles was a magical girl. She was part of the new generation of the Mahou Shoujo in Japan, part of a team of MGs that were well into their teens and closing in on adulthood. She never really liked working with other MGs, regardless if they were rookies in need or veterans offering assistance. Still, she found herself being forcibly wedged into this found family of girls plus one boy.

Pulling herself out of the pile of broken pride and splinters, the disgruntled lone wolf girl looked at the warzone she was personally punted out of. Surrounding some weird Witch-Familiar thing were the rest of her friends team. The leader, in a fancy ballerina tutu and long red coat, was currently supporting her right-hand gal in blue spandex and kevlar, a thoroughly terrified and haunted look in her eyes. Behind them was the kid in a purple suit - which she remembered was once a pink skirt, so POG for him - nursing a wound in goldilocks' stomach, where a sword had ripped through the silky ball gown and left bloody tears.

The thing they were fighting was hell-bent on killing Goldie, swinging its remaining sword down on Red's own katana while trying to poke through Blue's bare-handed parries with a flaming spear in its other hand. Grabbing a thin piece of rebar the Dark Mahou Shoujo loaded it in one of the pipes she landed on.

Aiming the pipe at the monster, she looked for any sort of exposed flesh or weak spot to hit. She couldn't see much under the gigantic black coat the thing wore, but from what little she saw through the dark and crossing blades she saw armor. An armored helm laid on top of its head underneath the hood, a large breastplate covering its chest. The coat covered its arms but she could see that it had webbed hands of sorts, underneath leather gloves that gripped the weapons it used. From the below the torso there looked to be scaled leggings covering whatever appendages the thing used to walk, and there seemed to be a tail hiding under a second cloak underneath the first black coat.

Figuring that everything has to have some sort of brain in its head, the Wolf aimed her pipe and charged her magic in the palm of her other hand; gravity warped around the girl as she placed her palm at the loaded end of her makeshift railgun, holding the magnetic charge in her hand and fueling even more potential kinetic energy into her hand.

When she saw the Thing raise its blade to strike an open Red and stabbed Blue in the shoulder, Wolf released her magic; all of the shrapnel fell back to the ground for a split second before they were blown back by the magnetic power that launched the small piece of rebar. The pipe exploded in her hand, but Wolf wouldn't care if her gambit paid off. Striking true the small piece of metal pierced the armored head of the Thing and knocked off its hood. Its body was flung back by the sheer force of the metal and it laid a crumpled mess.

Raising herself from the even messier pile she laid in, Wolf trotted over to the team she was supposed to be babysitting. Red pulled the spear out of Blue's shoulder, and a grateful look tinged with a hint of something was sent to the leader. Purple was currently fixing a tourniquet onto Goldie's belly, trying her-his dammit! His best not to stare at the chiseled body underneath the frilly dress; his loss.

"Thank you, Sempai! We can always count on you to save us!" Cheered the leader, hands clasped together as if she were offering prayer to a god, which actually kinda helped Wolf's ego.

"You shouldn't thank me, you should do what any leader should and take stock of what just happened." Glancing down at the unconscious girl below them, a real veteran by the looks of her, Wolf eyed the leader. "So, mind telling me why you were outnumbered 1 to 4 by a familiar when you were supposed to have returned an hour ago?"

It was routine for MGs to meet up at warehouses or penthouses to plan out their Witch Hunts, the local MG Base being one by the docks of Mitikihara. Wolf had ended up in this city - town, as the locals like to remind her - by sheer accident, sleeping on a train that took her here all the way from Yokohama. It's been a rough two months but she doesn't mind her new hole-in-the-wall hideaway here, Mitikihara was pretty alright with her.

She could do without all the MGs though...

"We're sorry superior, we had taken down the witch that was impersonating another MG born and raise here, but we were ambushed by that Familiar." Ugh, superior. Makes her shrivel up and die on the inside, her minimum-wage days not kind to her as a green MG. "When the barrier vanished, we were assaulted by a loud orchestra of noise. The next thing we know, Hideki-chan is impaled and out for the count. That's when you showed up..."

Anything else that Blue would've said Mitsuko, her name was Yoshimura Mitsuko was lost to the all as her Soul Gem, located just under her collar bone exploded into shards of glass, the ringing of a flintlock rifle left in the air. That Familiar was standing again, hunched over with a gloved hand on its face where Wolf's railgun hit and held an empty musket in the other hand.

"Mitsuko!" Red cried out, tears pouring down her face as she cradled the dead body of her partner, her lover her friend. Retaliating, either out of fear or anger, Purple Shima, Shima-san, no name given or learned leaped at the Familiar with a kick, twin short swords ready to be swung with freezing frost.

The Familiar let out a low chuckle, still facing the ground as it tossed aside the musket. Replacing it was a cutlass with a crossguard covered in music notes, the blade engraved with runes. The Familiar sprinted forward to meet the boy halfway, pulling back its sword for an impaling thrust. They crossed attacks, the boy sporting a new nub instead of a leg, the monster spinning mid-strike and launching the blade from its hilt. The blade soared through the air and caught aflame, striking the boy's other leg.

The laughing grew, a melody playing out from somewhere on the construction site with rock playing during the two MGs falls, punctuated by a choir during Blue's death. A grunt came from behind Wolf and she saw Goldie Takei Yasuko, the pacifist of their group pulled herself onto her elbows and stared on at the battle.

"Shinju-kun!" Raising a palm, light gathered in her hand. Before long shining rays of golden light launched out and struck the Familiar. Unperturbed by the light show, it crept towards the boy, seemingly savoring the moments of utter and sheer panic exuded from the kid; as he tried to pry the fiery blade out of his other leg, Purple looked desperately at Gold's eyes, something said between the two without any words.

Deciding to do something right for once in her life, Wolf sprinted into combat and gathered magnetic force into her hands. A pole flung itself into her left hand just as she smacked the Familiar's armored face with her other, the charge in the metal shaking as it tried to escape from the presence of the charged weapon in Wolf's possession.

Swinging the pole into the armored face Wolf let out a nonstop barrage of strikes, disorienting and hopefully stunning the monster just long enough for Red to grab her friends and get out of here. A hearty chuckle escaped from the ringing metal and soon the Pole was snatched out of Wolf's hands.

"Tsk tsk." A webbed finger waggled before her. "That won't work anymore." Before she could react Wolf felt her insides churn as a metal fist entered through her back. From the puddle of melted ice she stood on, a Witch was reflected on the surface, its gauntlet rippling through the water. "You should be careful where you step. Wouldn't want to slip after all."

Wait a second... that voice... no... it couldn't be...

Feeling a weight lift off her shoulders, Wolf felt her body trying to rapidly heal around the metal fist; she was never any good at mastering healing, her magic often did it fast enough for her that she never noticed herself ever get hurt. A constant feeling of dread and relief coursed through her until she felt herself lurching off to the side. She saw the ground rushing up to her before she blacked out.

Minami Hideko was crying. This thing, this creature kept hunting her down. She always saw it out of the corner of her eyes whenever she walked around the mall, out the windows in class, and she swore she saw it once while she was in the bathroom of her own home. This monster just kept following her everywhere, and she didn't know why it did.

But now she knew. It followed her to kill her. Her and her friends.

Unable to let go of her lover's body, Hideko could only watch as her Soul Gem filled with despair, her team all being slain by this laughing monster.

When she heard wet feet approaching her - it must have killed Yasuko and Shin-kun fast - she raised her head to look the Familiar in the mask. She gasped when she saw a green eye glare down at her with undisguised hatred, its hands hoisting her friends up by their necks. She saw her friends give out pitiful whimpers as it crushed their windpipe, tossing their bodies before her. Hideko thought that had been the end but no, the monster threw a spear into her shoulder at lighting speed and pinned her sword arm to the floor.

The monster laughed even louder as the music got louder, it falling into a soft melody before picking up tempo and volume.

"You took her from me... You took an innocent person's life... You made me feel such... indescribable despair..." The Familiar - no the mad laughed, a terrible shrill cackle piercing the silence as it manifest two more swords in his hands. "You turned me into this, it's only right I return the favor, Minami-san."

With that he sliced Shun-kun into two between the eyes, shattering his Soul Gem kept in his navel. Aiming his other blade, the Familiar pierced Yasuko's hand, destroying the Soul Gem embedded within the back of her hand. After that he kept stabbing her friend's corpses, laughing giddily as his movements become sloppier and faster.

Resigning herself to her fate, Hideko came up with her next and final plan as leader of the New Holy Quintet. Palming her Soul Gem underneath herself, Hideko charged up a single, city rending Zantetsuken Ztrike into her blade. When she heard the footsteps get closer to her she steeled herself. With her final move, she'd wipe out the demon that killed her team. Her katana formed in her off-hand, poised to strike and-

She stopped herself as she saw the face that looked down at her. Those emerald eyes filled with hate, the curly purple hair that was tied back into a tail, and the fangs that protruded out of his snarling smile.

"A-Anthony-kun...?! AUGH!"

She felt her arms be sliced off from her body, left writhing on the ground in pain as two spears pinned her legs.

"This is for my mother, Oktavia von Seckendorff. Or, as you disgusting humans only knew her as, Miki Sayaka." Grabbing her own blade off the ground, Hideko only stared at a loss for words as she felt her katana - Sakura Storm - pierce her heart and narrowly miss her gem.

"W-wait, where are y-ou going!?" She saw the boy, the child she once knew, walk away from her, leaving her to turn into a Witch as her Soul Gem darkened trying to heal her. "You can't l-leave me here! You can't!"

"Oh but I can Minami-san, and I shall. You see, after you and those wretched whores decided to take my mother's life, you didn't grant her any mercy. You just entered our home and attacked us all, without prejudice might I add." His voice was calm and quiet, just like it was so long ago.

"We wanted to live our lives in peace, with the happy ending we earned for ourselves. But you didn't let that happen. You got cozy with us all, got to know us all, in a ploy to kill my mother and my sister.

"Now I'm going to do as you had done to us. Infiltrate my enemies' homes, and their lives, and kill them all. Without any mercy just like you five lacked.

You were the third, as I'm no doubt sure you've heard about the other two disappearances, hmm~?"

"An-Anthony, no, please, come back! I'm sorry! I never wanted to do it! They said if we didn't they'd...

... please... come back... I don't want to turn...

I don't... wanna die... alone... hic...

Mitsuko. . . Sempai. . . Everyone . . . I'm. . . sor. . . ry. . ."

Anthony, post bad timeline invasion: this is my villain origin story.

oh, also, i was playing this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ev6ruwD6sWs when I wrote everything past the first girl's death, if you wanna immerse urself in the ficlet.

／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼

#felix answers #domestic witches #anthony... #my boy... #OUGHHHH #BUT YEAH THATS EXACTLY IT #his mothers death leads to his personality doing a 180 #and instead of the little sunshine witch boy you have... one very angry and aggressive witch #also the part of him stabbing the corpses over and over gave me SERIOUS #vibes of sayaka with elsa maria #....like mother like son.... #OUGH #io3

[commaclear]

however long after being discharged from the hospital, quackity tries to take his bandages off for the first time. he's looking in the bathroom mirror, slowly unwrapping it with hands that shake like paper. he's been in there for twenty minutes.

god, why can't he just do it?

he's in the goddamn fbi. he's seen dead bodies. he's fired guns. and now he's alone in a hotel bathroom with nothing but the sound of his worst mistakes echoing off the tile, and he can't take his own bandages off.

he has his head bowed over the sink, hands on either side, when wilbur knocks lightly on the door, as if more than one knuckle might break it to bits. "quackity?"

quackity jumps. he spits at wilbur to give him a minute. taut like a string, a deer in the headlights. all he can hear is white noise, and if that's what guilt sounds like, he's going to be permanently deaf.

"i heard you in here- were you hyperventilating a second ago?-"

"nonono, i'm fine, just-" he inhales. "please, just fucking leave me alone."

"do you want me to help?"

everything goes quiet. for real, this time.

they're looking at each other like that again, like they're the lone survivors of some disaster the news forgot about, and quackity's one good eye is too tired to look away, to put up a fight.

then wilbur's hand settles on his cheek like a warm, soft puzzle piece. it's remarkably dangerous for something so light, so fragile. quackity doesn't want to be fragile. he's not sure if it makes him strong when he stays still for wilbur, who begins to unwrap the bloodied bandage. "shh. let me help you." his voice is so quiet, and the words feel deeper than they should.

"wilbur- can i just turn the other way?" quackity glances at the mirror. "i don't know if-"

wilbur nods immediately, and guides him gently by the shoulders to sit on the counter, facing away from the mirror. quackity opens his mouth, but no words have pooled there. there are only unintelligible flames unfurling in his chest.

wilbur takes a deep breath as he sets the bandage down, and becomes the first person to see quackity's raw scar.

quackity would turn away if he was anywhere near functioning normally. he wants to sink into the earth, but that's too cliche, too passive. maybe if he burned the hotel to the fucking ground, he'd feel better, wouldn't have to be perceived by anyone as anything but a silhouette-

but wilbur is looking at him like a keepsake spared in a house fire. his lips are parted, reverence pinching his brows, his eyes deep pools staring into quackity's, looking, feeling, searching.

a tear trickles off quackity's cheek and across the back of wilbur's hand.

it's not enough to put out a house fire, and it never will be. still, they stay there, wilbur's thumb skirting close to the lacerated skin as he whispers sweet nothings. he stays. it's not like anyone is coming to rescue them.

ngl anon, this is better written than most of my stuff /gen

the sheer emotion you packed in, jfc

*gives you a blue-green piece of sea glass that I found on a beach while trespassing at night*

#anons my beloved #bone to pick