#i mean a single plait

[deathbypufferfish]

For the love of god someone make a single braid hair for male sims I'm begging

#puffer talks #OSCAR NEEDS IT #everytime i need braid cc like box braids the internet shows me plaited braids #and then vice versa #i mean a single plait #idk braid terminology maybe just read my mind #i learned how to french braid this year okau

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi I hope your doing good

So I was wondering if I can get some hcs of Kuai Liang with a female s/o who loves playing with his hair. Like his s/o will 100% Just beg him to let her play with his hair, his s/o just always wants to braid it or put it up for him hell even just run her fingers through his hair

My day could’ve been better but hey, writing makes it better at least. 🦦

Kuai Liang adores having his hair played with and pulled wait what for it acted as an destressor or a therapeutic outlet for him.

So whenever you came up to him, begging and pleading for him to allow you the opportunity to play with his gorgeous hair, who was he to deny such an generous offer; after all it was a win win situation for the both of you. You get to play with his hair whilst Kuai Liang gets to relive himself of his daily stresses.

kuai Liang highly encourages you to play with his hair because he loves the way your fingers would languidly drag through his hair, as though you didn’t want to rush a single thing and wanted him to feel everything, from your nails scratching his head to detangling any knots you come across.

(I honestly don’t think this man has a single knot in his hair, I mean look at him! So when you run your hands through those silken strands, it’s like running your fingertips through water because it’s that perfect.)

Kuai Liang is partial for the moments where neither of you had anything else to do, as it gave him the excuse to keep his head in your lap and gradually being lulled to sleep with a relaxed smile on his face.

‘I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this a little too much.’ You teased as you purposefully dragged your fingers slowly through Kuai Liang’s hair, smile becoming wider upon hearing his moans, groans and sighs of relief.

‘And so what if I am?’ Kuai Liang asked as he opened his eyes to look up at you from his position upon your lap, smirking. ‘What’re you implying, little flame?’

‘I’m not implying anything.’ You began playing with a section of his hair, all I’m saying is that I don’t recall ever seeing you this relaxed before. It’s nice.’ You add, tugging at the ends of his hair playfully, before bringing your fingers back to the top of his head and repeating the motion. ‘Is that so?’ Kuai Liang drawled as he slowly closed his eyes and leaning into your touch, you swore that if you were to listen hard enough, you would be able to hear him purring as though he were an oversized house cat.

‘Yes, very much so.’ You chuckled.

Kuai Liang subconsciously smiled upon hearing the sound. ‘Then I guess I’m guilty on all charges, but can you possibly blame me? I get to de-stress and you get to play with my hair.’

‘I guess you’re right.’ You retorted. ‘I’ll cut you some slack, just this once.’

Kuai Liang would also let you style his hair however you want when asked, whether it was plaited, in a high bun, low bun, messy bun, half up, basic ponytail, knotted ponytail; whatever style you provided for his hair, he will wear it for the rest of the day with pride. He doesn’t give a fuck what Bi-Han and Tomas said.

He’d also use your instance to doing his hair as an excuse not to do it himself. Now to preference this, Kuai Liang isn’t lazy in any regard at all. He just likes the fact that you actually want to style his hair for him, whilst he’s stuck sat on the edge of your bed, as he’s a sucker for the domestic lifestyle.

In short: Kuai Liang acts like a cat when you run your fingers through his hair. (real)

#mk1 #mk1 x reader #mk x y/n #mk imagine #mk x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #kuai liang x y/n #kuai liang x you #kuai liang imagines #kuai liang imagine #kuai liang x reader #scorpion x reader

[pseudowho]

Resolute

The reader helps Nanami Kento to accept that he has a drinking problem.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of character death, alcoholism, post traumatic stress

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The day was long; your evening together was too short. You hadn't seen each other all day, carried apart by the tide of work, and had communicated only in staccato bursts of text messages, single sentences back and forth.

Can't wait to see you. Today has been shit! Cheese, milk, bread, laundry detergent. A short video that made him laugh. A short video that made you laugh. A photo of you teaching the First Years. A photo of Ijichi making a shy 'peace' sign to the camera, Kento barely visible in the reflection on his glasses. Nearly finished! Believe me, I'm counting down the seconds. I'll collect the shopping. I love you more than you know.

One.

Finally released from the dull corset of gainful employment, Kento flopped to the sofa beside you, carefully stopping his glass from sloshing over himself. You undid his tie. He untucked his shirt. You snuggled your pyjama'd self under his heavy, strong arm; he groaned in satisfaction, slipping warm fingers under your top to stroke the soft plush of your waist. You basked in the quiet warmth of each others' company, each of you being the home of the other. No need to talk.

Two.

You heard the faint shhhhhk-clink of bottles being closed, and put away. Kento returned this time in check pyjama bottoms, wearing nothing else but a glass of whiskey. He swirled it at you. Ugh, nail polish remover, you teased. Uncultured swine, Kento teased back, all but finishing his glass in one thirsty swallow. You smiled, hesitating only briefly. Come on, you need food more than drink, you joked lightly, the truth leaving a bitter aftertaste. I wouldn't be so sure, he retaliated, too far down the path to see from where he had entered.

Three. Four.

Cheese, bread and charcuterie; the lazy dinner of two people who were too tired to question the expense, washed down far too easily by more whiskey. You had nursed one glass of wine all evening; the whiskey bottle now sat beside the crackers, easier than getting up and down to the kitchen again, and again, and again.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Kento was pliable, made supple and languid by his amber tonic. His kisses grew deep and earthy, lips hot with rising fumes, blessedly relieved as divine relaxation thrummed through his body, revelling in the Dionysian pleasure he had craved all day. God, you're so beautiful, he whispered, mead-sweet and intoxicating against your throat. You squirmed beneath his tongue, your arousal wildly overridden by concern, the words you needed to say stuck to the roof of your mouth. Kento mistook your squirming as the result of his successful advances, and he leaned into you, caging you down against the sofa pillows as he pressed against you, hardening against your leg through the thin fabric of his check pyjamas, hand creeping up to idly squeeze the pebbling peak of your breast. The pleasure darted through you, toxic, unwelcome--

"Stop, Kento-- I-- I can't--" Kento stopped immediately, unfazed by your refusal, but concerned by the anxiety seeping out of you. He kissed you softly on the forehead, carefully releasing you from under his arms, wordlessly reassuring you he loved you no less.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, sincere, affectionate, "we don't have to do any--"

"No, we do," you stuttered, sitting up, determined but twisting inside with the foul taste of approaching confrontation, "I mean, I-- I do. I need to. There's-- something I need to talk to you about," you finished weakly. Kento was all patience, his silence inviting, ready to be your therapist.

"Do you...are you...have you noticed quite how much you drink?"

Half a heartbeat passed with the barest flick of antagonism across Kento's eyes, and he smiled, handsome and disarming.

"I wouldn't say it's all that much," he laughed softly, plaiting his fingers through yours, raising your hand to kiss against his lips, "Far less than--"

"Eight. This evening alone."

Kento flinched, shoulders tensing, body turning slightly away from you as his lips curled in disgust.

"I'm not drunk," he spat, on-the-spot. He swallowed, hand squeezing yours, smiling again to steer the ship another way, any way other than this, and repeated, calmer, "I'm not drunk. I'm...I'm just having a couple, it's been a long day and I--"

"But you should be drunk," you cried, the dam breaking now as tears pricked in your eyes, "eight drinks Kento. And not small drinks. That bottle was full, and now-- now..."

You saw Kento's eyes flick to the bottle, almost empty, shame swirling behind the furious glaze of his usually warm brown eyes, now cold, angry. He had let go of your hand, distancing himself from you as he turned, elbows set heavily on his knees as he leaned away. The lump in your throat thickened, and you moved quickly to him, hands gripping his forearm in desperate reassurance, trying to bring him to you.

"Look I-- it's not your fault," you pressed, sensing him drifting further away as his forearm tensed under your fingers, his eyes still a maelstrom of denial, shame, anger, disgust, "It's easy to let it get on top of you, I can help you--"

Kento stood, throwing your hands off his arm, beginning to tidy the remnants of dinner with shaking hands, trying and failing to remove himself from the conversation as you followed, still impeaching him to listen--

"How about you back off and mind your own business?" Kento spat, spinning and turning on you suddenly, and you felt a flash of fear as you stepped back, involuntarily raising your hands up. Kento stepped back sharply, eyes softening in tearful apology, his shame now rising like bile in his chest. He struggled for words, unable to process the deep exposure of you noticing his failings.

"You're right," you stuttered, tears pouring down your cheeks and raising your hands to placate Kento, who felt his heart breaking, silently listening to you reassure him, "I shouldn't have-- I didn't mean to--"

Kento was trapped, alone on his little island now. He watched his ship drift away as he slowly backed down, walking away to the bathroom. You implored him to come to bed; he took himself to the sofa, overwhelmed in his certainty that you deserved better than some pathetic drunk who frightened her.

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You barely functioned the next day. You and Kento never went to bed on an argument. Kento never raised his voice at you. Kento never shied away from resolving issues between you. You caught yourself performing your chores and tasks on autopilot, the events of the night before flickering across your vision like old film reel left to run, and you burst into quiet tears in soft sobbing patches throughout the day.

Yet, despite your regret for the argument, you could not regret acting in Kento's best interests. You reached the morbid conclusion that his health was more important to you than the sanctity of your relationship.

Curling on the sofa, phone in hand, you began to research, pausing tearfully to make scribbles in a notepad every few minutes.

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Nanami Kento never asked for help. Nanami Kento never offloaded his own issues to someone else. Nanami Kento never outsourced his duties.

He surprised himself, that day, by doing all three.

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When the door clicked open again that evening, you were taut as a coiled spring, adrenaline thumping through you, and you held your notepad like a shield. Kento's voice called, but the noise glossed past your ears that pulsed, hot, with the whoosh of your own heartbeat. Your spit was thick in your mouth as Kento came into the kitchen. Your eyes caught; you opened your mouth wordlessly, your meticulously planned speech snagging on doubt. As Kento opened his mouth to talk, you interrupted in a frantic flurry.

"I know you don't think that your drinking is a problem, and I know you want me to stop, but you're so much more important to me than that, and if you hate me after this then that's fine but--" you approached him, notebook outstretched, all carefully written details of support groups, therapists, specialist doctors--

"You're right."

You faltered, notebook lowering, as Kento stood in front of you, suddenly shrinking, small, exposed. Your heart tugged painfully as his gentle smile tried to reassure you through the thickets.

Kento gulped, forcing down the viscerally angry reaction to his shame, "I...I think it started after-- after Yuu was killed-- or possibly even before that. A few drinks...helped me to sleep. We all self-medicated in one way or another. It was normal, honestly, considering the shit we had to--" Kento stopped, catching himself before he fell into the trap of excuses. His lip curled again, awash in mortification and vulnerability and--

-- and before him, still, there you were. You, who had loved him enough to risk your own happiness for his health. You, who had spent your day, even after his abhorrent behaviour, looking for ways to help him. You, who looked up at him now with so much love and sadness that he felt his grief and stress and shame and desperation rise up in him all at once, and he coughed, gulping as tears slid down his cheeks, staring at the floor, feeling so stranded in these strange woods.

"I'm so sorry I-- I scared you, and I-- I..."

"Oh no, Kento, no, it's okay, it's okay, we'll be okay, we can get you through this--" You pulled him to you, holding him as he wept quietly into your neck, and you stroked the weight of the world off his broad shoulders. We. Kento hiccuped, crying harder as his hands shook against you, holding onto you, his lifeline.

"Please help me," he begged, hiding his face in your neck, "I don't know where to-- I dont know how to--" You nodded against him, already prepared, and sickeningly relieved that he would let you help, and you stroked his hair, shushing him as his tears slowed, his irregular breaths heavy and hot against you.

Pulling away, you swiped your thumbs across his face, wiping away tears, holding his cheeks tenderly as you planted a wet kiss to his lips. Kento chuckled, sniffing and tear-stained, letting you sprinkle kisses over his cheeks.

"I couldn't...I couldn't face work today," Kento sniffed, leading you to the sofa where you made him lay his head on your lap, your fingers still inching tender trails through his hair, "I asked Ino to take my missions." Kento's voice was tight, embarrassed at having asked for a friend to relieve him of his duties.

"Which I'm sure he was delighted to do, Kento," you pressed, "you don't know how loved you are...not only by me." Kento gulped again, grumbling at you as you shushed him.

"Your life can be better than anything you can find at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, Kento," you promised, to his uncertain frown, "you'll be able to sleep without it, cope without it, and live happily without it."

Kento nodded, sighing, gripped with writhing fear at the journey ahead-- but, you had come to his island, fearless in your little boat, and he climbed aboard with the sweet relief of a castaway finally able to sail for home.

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#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujustu kaisen #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x reader #jjk fluff #kento nanami angst #nanami angst

[lust444men]

PLEASE WELCOME...PROFESSOR!RAFE💐

INTRODUCTION ᡴꪫ‎

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who was quite often grumpy, walking into class with a cup of stale cafeteria coffee, a deep frown set on his face.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who had a bad day everyday. that was until you started auditing his class. a pretty lil' student who was interested in the literature he was teaching. of course, he didn't completely lighten up. but he was intrigued.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe spent a few months of watching you in class, seeing you blush and get giddy whenever he praises your correct answers and brilliant questions, he called you back to stay after class for catch up work. which is when he pinned you between him and his desk, hand on the nape of your neck as he kissed you — whispering about how long he's been wanting to do this.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who, from then onwards, was fucking you every chance he got. teachers lounge during class hours, after class, in the library in the dusty aisle no one ventures to.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will sit you in his lap as he grades your paper, lecturing you for every bad thing you did. "I mean, what type of grammar is this? do you even pay attention during my classes or are you too busy thinkin' about my dick?"

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who on a good day he'll let you cockwarm him as he grades papers, immediately failing anybody with a name he recognises from the times you've cried about how they were so mean to you.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who has a soft spot for you, and only you. it shouldn't be noticeable, but people certainly saw it. he was less bossy, less rude. he gave you extensions.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will take it upon himself to spank you when you have the audacity to turn in something so, so bad, that it genuinely makes him mad. "the fuck were you thinking? did you proof-read at all?!"

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who takes time to tutor you after his spankings. starting by making you write a two page essay on something, knelt under his desk with his face buried between your thighs. everytime your eyes flutter away from your laptop screen, he pulls away from your dripping pussy to scold you.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who does genuine tutoring with you too, wanting you to actually get better so you don't fail his class.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who, before your history class begins, walks into the classroom to leave a single rose on your desk. he's a lover at heart.

ᨳິ‎english literature!professor who uses his profession to his advantage, leaving little love notes in your bag, desk, jacket, anywhere you'll find them, and others won't.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who signs off all notes with a very, very indecipherable '- R.C' with a sloppy, uneven heart next to it.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will messily kiss you against the door of his classroom, two minutes until his class begins. the second he hears the chatter from the hall grow closer, he shoves you off, wiping your lips with his thumb to get rid of your messy, smudged lipstick. he then gently pushes you towards your seat, sitting at his desk and prepping for his lecture. he then throws you glances all the way through it, making sure not to stand face forward for too long so his other, suspecting students don't see how hard he is through his slacks.

ᨳິ‎possessive!professor!rafe who leaves marks all over your neck and your thighs constantly, for people to see out of your low cut blouses and plaited skirts.

ᨳິ‎overprotective!professor!rafe who has to bite his tongue to resist the urge to saunter up to any man who had the audacity to talk to you.

ᨳິ‎jealous!professor!rafe who pounds you from the back in his office, your chest on the smooth wood of his desk. his hand reaching forwards, pulling you up to his chest by your hair. "you think some fuckin' fratboy can fuck you like I can? hm? answer me."

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who is actually a complete sweetheart, on the inside, very, very deep down.

                                                

                                                 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

© LUST444MEN ‎2024

#pls flood my inbox w my man i love him so #comments and reblogs are most appreciated! #before you come at me. reader is 20/21 and rafe is 26/27. #700 celebration! <3 #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron moodboard #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe concepts

[dozing-marshmallow]

hi! i was wondering if you could write duncan and courtney dating headcannons with a fem reader on the show? (separate) if not that's ok!

Awww no, it is okay! Thank you so much for the request, enjoy!<33

DATING COURTNEY HEADCANONS

From what we know about Courtney, it wasn’t hard to guess that her type was someone contrasting her.

So you were a bit of a cheeky contestant.

Okay, “a bit” was an understatement. Courtney didn’t like to admit it, but she found jubilation in your many ploys on the show.

Because of them though, she’d be on the assumption that you weren’t taking the competition seriously (even though you weren’t actually there to win the money), but you appreciate her reminding you to focus on the game and her helpful tips.

She wouldn’t want to openly say you guys are in a relationship as she’s aware that some people may try to exploit that for their own motives, but makes it clear that you’re off limits.

At night, you often share a bunk with her. Courtney would insist to be the little spoon, all the way through to the morning with her head on your chest.

Your darling Princess!

She loves sharing school stories with you.

“They actually had to rush her to the ER! Can you believe the manners some people have? How much of a litterbug do you have to be to throw your juice box out of a window from the fourth floor? We have bins for a reason!”

“Woah... So your teacher got a concussion from someone doing that?”

“Yeah! It sounds pathetic, but it’s what happened! The school assigned me to be in charge of delivering work from her and delivering notices to her. Makes sense since I was the only qualified student to take up that responsibility while still ace all my classes!”

She’s also fond of discussing hair with you and you play with hers and vice versa.

You like giving her little plaits, ponytails or a bun as high as it can go.

Additionally, she tries persuading you to do karaokes with her.

“It’s way better if we don’t have any instruments! You have nothing to hide behind and we’ll get used to being vulnerable with each other!” she smiled when she said it.

Looks like that couldn’t apply to her,“Oh, man...”

Though she’s a perfectionist, she loves complimenting you a lot.

“If you took that cap off your head and wore a headband instead, you’d look even more adorable! Would you do it for me at least?”

And her occasional feedback.

“What do you mean you haven’t read a single book this entire year!?” she jumps to her feet, horrified.

“Courtney, relax! It’s not a big deal.” you try to assure her with a grin.

She was more shaken at your presumably clueless behaviour to reading,“No, it is a big deal! You can’t just have everything on the outside and nothing in here!” she taps a tense finger to the side of her head,“My girlfriend’s gotta have brains with her beauty! I’m not dating no dummy!”

So she ordered you to sit down on the entrance steps of the Killer Bass cabin while she searched for a novel to give you- girl brought ten.

Out of her choices, she decided to provide you with Mercy Among The Children.

“There!” she hands you the clean copy, no crease or wrinkle, like all brand new,“You will read all of that and when you’re done, you will answer ten summary questions that I came up with to show me how much you learnt. And I will know if your answers are accurate, because I happened to give a presentation on this very book! I did it with ease thanks to my experience as a CIT.” her CIT talks got tedious very quickly, however if it made her happy, you didn’t want to take that away from her.

Therefore you gave something of your own instead,“What if I don’t know how to read?” you knew such question would aggravate her.

She shakes her head in disbelief, perfect autumn hair swaying,“Oh, you’re gonna have to do a lot better than that! You read the fine print of the contract to participate, didn’t you?”

Nope, but let’s pretend you did.

After a few seconds of “reading”, you call her name, to where she sat next to you, watching.

“What’s on your mind now?”

“I uh...” you turn to the back of the book, eyes scanning over the blurb,“Kinda don’t like the voice in my head narrating this. Could you read it to me?”

It seemed this request had halted her brain for a moment as she had stared at you with eyelids split apart again before her loving reprimand frolicked in the air,“Are you crazy? (Y/N), you know I love you, but I can’t do that! You gotta do this on your own, get used to reading in your head! How will you do in an exam when you have to stay quiet? I refuse to hear you getting disqualified over something as little as that!”

She’s so irresistible when she gets worked up,“Then I’ll transfer to your school so I can hear your voice everyday and be sure to pass my next exam.”

Her aim to lecture you had evaporated,“Oh wow...“ her eyebrows sprung back and she couldn’t believe herself for laughing at your not so futile charm,“Okay okay, just this once!” she declares, gently taking back the novel with both hands so it was still open.

As Courtney’s elegant voice embellishes the passage written down on the pages, you make promise to yourself to continue reading it in your own time.

After all, you know she’s just looking out for you.🤎

DATING DUNCAN HEADCANONS

You thought he asked you out as a joke, but he was serious.

Serious in love.

And he loved to be open about it. Not with words, but with his arm around you, calling your name.

He sprayed your hair for a day to see how green would look on you, however you got worried when it didn’t come out.

He would share stories from juvie and usually had an edible treat to give you as you talked. You always thought he had brought a stash of sweets, but looking at his luggage, you realise there was no way any high caliber food could survive in it.

“Mm, thanks Duncan! Where did you get this from?”

He winked,“Don’t worry about it.”

So you didn’t.

Duncan’s surprisingly very good at drawing; you use that talent as a couple’s activity.

He also likes drawing his initials on your arms with a marker, never forgetting to add a skull.

Loves playing with your hands and placing his one on your leg.

Sometimes you wear his shirt or use it as a blanket.

While Duncan wouldn’t really like to hug in public, he’d do gestures like rubbing your head or squishing your face.

He fantasises you someday getting a matching piercing, since you refuse to let him give you one.

“This nose piercing wasn’t painful, like a lot of wet wussies say, but it is a bit uncomfy for a few days. You sure you don’t want me to pierce ya? It’s free of charge~”

The treatment for the infection won’t be,“No thanks! I might decide to pierce my ears!”

“Ear piercing?” his face scrunched like the choice was boring, but his voice held hope,“Where exactly?”

“The lobe would be nice... But I’d also want to get one on the inside! Like industrial!”

“Now you’re talking.” Needless to say, he approved of those ones.

Duncan’s a night owl, so found his favourite part of the day being at night, when everyone else was certainly asleep. You two would go out to a different part of Camp Wawankwa every time to breathe in the wildlife air and have conversation crafted for the dark.

The first nights, you were hesitant. Your chest was tight. It was hard to enjoy the secluded moment with Duncan when your mind was racing with panic.

“Oh Duncan... What if someone sees us? I don’t wanna get in trouble...”

“We won’t. We’re not doing anything wrong.” his calm tone of voice somewhat helped, head swivelling to the closest functioning camera duck tapped on a tree,“The worst Chris’ll do is tell us to go back inside, though knowing him, he probably doesn’t care.”

You trace a finger on his chest,“I wish I could sleep with you in your cabin. But the girls would be suspicious if my bed was empty, and let’s not talk about what the guys would do.”

“Keen, huh?” his unibrow forms a squiggly line as one of the separate eyebrow bones upreared, making you push him gently out on exposed instinct,“I’m pretty sure everyone knows about us by now and the guys would be fine if you crashed in for a night or two.”

“I know...” Duncan’s friends were nice guys. When they wanted to be,“I just don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable.”

His laugh gets clogged by his nose,“You? Make anyone uncomfortable? Babe, trust me, unless your name starts with H and ends in arold, you don’t gotta worry about being alienated. If it means that much to you, we can wait until more people go home for us to share a bed.”

Ohh! You had forgotten about the competition and how it worked! Love makes you forget about the everyday things like the collection of the fires supplementing the sky just being rocks floating in space,“Until more people go home... How...will we make sure it’s not us?”

“Welll. I like you so that’s one less person to vote for you.” he starts,”The rest of the guys like you so you can count them out. Now for the chicks... Anyone you think wants you gone?”

Instantly, someone came to mind,“Heather,” your boyfriend makes gagging noises at the name, vining a smile on your lips,“Ever since I turned down her offer to join her alliance, I must’ve ended up on her watch list. Sure, we can act civil, but I can tell she’s impatiently waiting for my elimination.”

He snorts, brushing his hand on your back,“Seriously? Chicks hold a grudge over anything! Well, that alliance of hers can’t be doing so good when one of her so called members don’t even like her, so it’s not like you’re missing out on anything.”

“True... I get to enjoy the Duncan instead,” you look into his blue vision for that, seeing his irises sprout in ardour. You leave a tangible mark of your lips on his, finding your eyes wondering to a large robust tree not so far away from where Duncan held you,“I wonder... Do you think we could secretly build our own secret treehouse?”

“Up there?” he follows your gaze and whistles,“It is possible... All I’ll need are some tools to steal from Chef and it’ll be there in no time.”

“Duncan!” his romantic selfless take on your suggestion is piled over by his out of place mention of Chef’s inventory, which clicks something to your attention,“Is that...where you’ve been getting the snacks from?”

An unbeaten chuckle rippled out of his ribs, how carefree he was,“Looks like the cat got outta the bag!”💚

#tdi x reader #tdi #total drama #request #td duncan #td courtney #total drama duncan #total drama headcanons #total drama courtney #total drama courtney x reader #td courtney x reader #total drama duncan x reader #td duncan x reader #td courtney headcanons #td duncan headcanons #duncan total drama #tdi courtney #courtney total drama #total drama scenarios #tdi duncan #tdi dating duncan headcanons #tdi dating courtney headcanons #tdi courtney x reader #tdi duncan x reader

[lathalea]

THAUC23: Scattered Through Time

This is a story written by @joyfullynervouscreator and yours truly for this years' THAUC event organized by @fellowshipofthefics. Enjoy!

Moodboard by Lathalea

Scattered Through Time

Relationships: Dís/Dís's Wife Rating: G Warnings: bring tissues Author's notes: Time is merciless. It devours every single thing it meets on its way… almost. Somehow, a handful of memories remained. Once, they formed a kaleidoscope of life, full of shapes and colours. Now, they resemble a handful of stained glass pieces scattered on the bleak fabric of the past.

These are the letters between Dís, daughter of Thràin, and her beloved wife, Víli.

Link to the whole story:

My gleam of golden treasure,

I found your gift; snuck into my pocket during our final soft goodbye? You have a skilled hand with the chisel, even if you claim it not so, and I can only hope to match the swell of love I felt when I pulled the stone from my pocket with one that my words may pull from you. 

I miss you, I love you.

I will return to you.

I swear it.

D.

***

My Princess,

My betrothed,

It is such an honour to address you with these words. I am touching my betrothal braid and can feel the pattern you plaited as if it was today and not six days ago!

And now we are apart and I will not see you for three more days… It feels like an eternity. And to think we are to be wedded in seven months! If you were here with me, in the deep mines, you would laugh and call me “too impatient for my own good”. Yes, yes, good things are worth waiting for — but you are the best one, a true treasure, and I simply cannot wait until the day we become One before Mahal the Creator.

I still cannot believe my happiness. Or... do I dare to write “our happiness”, my Princess? Our. You and me. A daughter of kings from a legendary kingdom, a descendant of Durin himself, and a simple Broadbeam lass from the mines. A story I would not believe from the greatest of bards, and yet… Sometimes I wake up in the morning and wonder if I am dreaming a beautiful dream… I am dreaming of the way you smile when you look at me, so tenderly… 

… of the afternoons we spend together, when I listen to you speaking of yet another problem with that latest contract and your clever solution… 

… of the way your hair shines in the firelight, or the way your eyes light up when I show you a new block of carving stone… 

… of the softness of your lips and the way your hand feels in mine as we walk through the newly constructed corridors of your city… our city. 

And of the way you whisper my name.

I love, adore, and worship every single thing about you, Dís. My perfect princess.

If it is indeed a dream, I refuse to open my eyes! The only thing I wish to do is to take you in my arms and hold you close until the end of days, my beloved. My wife-to-be.

Forever yours,

Víli

Read the whole story on AO3.

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Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed):

@fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @legolasbadass @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry  @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512  @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff  @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @knittastically @saucyminxbrainspill @quiall321 @frosticenow @glassgulls @evenstaredits

If your name is crossed out, that means I'm unable to tag you :(

#thauc23 #dís #lady Dís #dis #princess Dís #Dís x oc #Dís x wife #the hobbit #lotr #fanfic #f/f #f/f fanfic #f/f romance #love letters #ori #balin #happy ending

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You had all realised how much you liked spending time together, even if it was doing your duties

・The banter was top-notch; constantly teasing each other, laughing and ultimately making life a little brighter

・On the long watches with Rosita, you learned a lot about her. How she didn’t like certain foods, especially canned, bland food (which was practically all you guys ate). Her favourite animals and favourite colour. 

・Your original impression was that Rosita was a stone-cold bitch. And ... that was somewhat true, but you now knew her as a loveable stone-cold bitch. 

・Michonne had so much responsibility on her shoulders that she actively sought you two out for some relief. You were always able to brighten her day. 

・Rosita had a lot of insight for Michonne, and it helped her decision making

・You didn’t think anything of the relationship - the three of you saw it as a friendship

・But it wasn’t until Eugene asked if the three of you were romantically involved, that you started to see Rosita and Michonne differently

・Neither woman is super cuddly, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any affection in your relationship. Michonne likes her face to be held in her hands, a thumb gently rubbing her cheek. Rosita loves to be hugged from behind, she rests her head back against your shoulder. 

・Rosita gets the most jealous. She doesn’t like when someone looks at either you or Michonne for too long. Whether that’s in a romantic way - or to size you up. She’ll be right by your side, ready to jump in and kick that person’s ass

・Michonne is very organised, she knows where important things are; hidden weapons, extra clothes, snacks, keys etc. While Rosita can find things in her messy chaos

・Wearing each other’s clothes or accessories: 

    “Hey, is that my- oh, okay. It looks much better on you.”

・You were the first one to say “I love you,” Michonne was the second and Rosita was last

・Everyone sees you three as this power trio. Not to be f*cked with - no one talks about you guys behind your backs. That’s how intimidating you three are. 

・Although you three are daunting, women and children feel incredibly safe with any of you. And this isn’t a coincidence or by accident 

・All three of you understand the troubles and dangers that women and girls experience. So you all make sure that respect and safety are priorities. If anyone makes them uncomfortable, you guys come down like a hammer. Your community is a safe haven, and that means safe for every single person. 

・You guys go on feminine hygiene runs - pads, tampons etc. One time you actually hit the jackpot and found a bunch of period underwear, diva cups, baby wipes, and nappies (both baby and adult). 

・In addition, on your runs you try and find birth control - condoms, the pill, and other medication (anti-depressants, anti-anxiety etc) 

・Rosita likes when you play with her hair; massaging her scalp, twirling her hair around your fingers, braiding and plaiting. 

・Michonne only ever lets you and Rosita see her cry

・On runs you try and find jewellery for Rosita and Michonne. Because those stores were forgotten about - they didn’t have anything important for an apocalypse, you were able to find pieces that relate to the women:

You see them as gold rather than silver. However, Michonne would be white gold. 

Rosita is garnet, ruby, and diamond

While Michonne is sapphire, jade and emerald

・They both showed you how to use their weapons and vice versa

・During fights, the three of you usually fight back to back 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

The Train by James Newton Howard

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

・Soldier (Rosita) x Poet (You) x King (Michonne)

・Look At Us Wrong And We’ll Kill You x3

・Sun (Rosita) x Moon (Michonne) x Eclipse (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

Romance During An Apocolypse

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞minors dni!

・Rosita loves being dominated. She’s a dominant person in her day-to-day life, so when it comes to sexual desires, she wants to be told what to do

・Michonne is a switch, but on certain nights she’s the best dominatrix 

・You’re a switch, both happy to be dominated or to dominate 

・There aren’t a lot of places to get lingerie or sex toys, so you all have to improvise and be creative. So this one time, Rosita found a big red shirt and cut it very short, and at the hemline, she ripped it so her cleavage was on display. 

・It drove both you and Michonne crazy, because she wasn’t wearing anything else but that

・Michonne likes to tie you both up and tease you relentlessly. Slowly touching your body parts

・You like to have both of them on their knees, begging for you

#the walking dead #rosita espinosa #michonne #witch the writer #female reader #poly headcanons #rosita x reader #michonne x reader #rosita x reader x michone #twd #twd headcanons #the walking dead x reader #reader insert #the walking dead reader insert #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead headcanons #rosita #michonne headcanons #rosita headcanons #rosita espinosa headcanons #queer #LGBT #LGBTQIA #lgbtqiia+ #lgbtq positivity #queer reader #bi reader #pansexual reader #lesbian reader #lgbt representation

[damnfandomproblems]

I'm giving in and putting in an actual response. just incase people don't check replies (tho if it is the obsessive anti Asian twst person I wouldn't be surprised if they did read them)

it takes... no time at all to look up the history of braids ON WIKIPEDIA and find out their actual history. (don't trust news outlets and blog sites) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Braid A quote from the page:

"The oldest known reproduction of hair braiding may go back about 30,000 years: the Venus of Willendorf, a female figurine estimated to have been made between about 28,000 and 25,000 BC in modern-day Austria.[4] The Venus of Brassempouy from the southwest of France is estimated to be about 25,000 years old and shows a braided hairstyle.

Although many cultures want to take sole credit for the braid, they cannot be traced to a single origin. Like how different versions of Cinderella are traceable to nearly every culture, braids, too, are polygenetic. One early example of hair braiding takes place in 1279-1213 BCE as recorded in the story of Isis: "when some of the queen's maidens came to the well, she greeted them kindly and began to braid their hair."[5]"

While yes, braids do have significant cultural importance in African cultures, largely out of necessity for maintaining their hair, this does not mean that they "invented" the braid. like another person said, braids even appear in cultures that have had zero contact with African cultures. In case you don't know what polygenetic means:

polygenetic

adjective

Having many distinct sources; originating at various places or times.

Of or pertaining to polygenesis; polyphyletic.

one which is composite, or consists of two or more monogenetic ranges, each having had its own history of development.

This can also be attributed to the fact that braids are not exclusive to hair. "A braid (also referred to as a plait) is a complex structure or pattern formed by interlacing three or more strands of flexible material such as textile yarns, wire, or hair."

This means things like clothing, jewelry, rope, and I would even say baskets. Any thing thing that can be shaped into a braid. Are there specific types of braid meant specifically for black hair texture? Yes. There are TYPES of hair braids designed specifically to protect and maintain certain types of hair, and yes such types of braids can be harmful if used on hair textures they were not designed for. However, once again I must remind you that this does not mean that African cultures "invented" braids as a whole.

"okay so are you saying its okay for white people to appropriate black cultures and use those hair styles?" In the event this is what any of you are wondering... That's not what I'm talking about. That is an entirely different topic that I'm not going into. Cuz tbh I don't know and I don't really have a say in the matter.

What I am talking about is debunking the claim that African cultures invented and therefore own braids, and that any other culture or person not apart of African cultures have no right to use a braids in general, and are racist if they do. For the last time. braids are polygenetic. No one owns them or invented them, and everyone has a right to use them. And this was all easily accessible information that you could literally look up and be done in like 5 mins btw. Please learn to do your research.

Posting this response like this. I will be compiling the anonymous response as one post.

#response to previous ask #response to previous problem #fandom problem 3868

[solongdaisymayy]

Cocoa

written for #WeasleyWeek hosted by @thethreebroomsticksfic. – Day 1: Molly & Arthur Weasley here's a dose of Molly and Arthur during their Hogwarts years, just some early relationship fluff and stuff. shoutout to @annabtg for beta reading and being the loveliest! ☺️

Read it below or on AO3!

Shadows dappled and danced across the castle floor as she sprinted through corridors, one hand clutching his, the other pressed against her mouth – a weak attempt at muffling the laughter that threatened to spill over. She could feel errant strands of hair escaping the plait she’d tucked it into that morning.

“Quiet,” Arthur reminded her as they climbed up another staircase, grinning. “Someone will hear us. Oh, we’re going to be in such trouble.”

“Only if we’re caught,” Molly pointed out, unable to bring herself to worry. The castle was deserted, and really, they weren’t even making enough noise to stir the dozing portraits, much less attract the ire of meddling professors.

Nevertheless, a part of her couldn’t help thinking how absurd this was. Her, Molly Prewett, sneaking out of the common room with none other than Arthur Weasley. A month ago, she’d had no idea she would soon be roaming Hogwarts hand in hand with the boy who sat quietly at the back of her Charms class but who never missed a single Muggle Studies lesson, even when he was recovering from a nasty bout of flu.

That night, they had left the Gryffindor tower in search of the Hogwarts kitchens, hoping for a cup of hot cocoa and, more importantly, a precious few moments without the rest of the house — her brothers, mainly — hovering around them.

How absurd, indeed. But also, how novel, how fantastic. Magical, one could even say.

“Wandering the castle this late at night, it’s not a good idea,” the Fat Lady sniffed disapprovingly as they came to stand, out of breath, before the portrait hole. She was peering at them from one bleary eye. Molly rather thought her sour mood was more likely due to being woken up from a deep slumber than the fact that two students had been out of bed well past curfew. Over the years, Molly herself had sneaked out of the common room far too many times to believe the Fat Lady cared about trivial things like curfew.

“Oh, er,” began Arthur, the tips of his ears turning bright red with impressive haste.

Biting back a smile, she turned back to the Fat Lady. “We just went out on a stroll. Good to get some fresh air after dinner, you know? Diricrawl,” she finished, hoping the portrait door would swing open at the mention of the latest password.

The Fat Lady arched an eyebrow, shuffling. Evidently, she was full of questions tonight, for she continued, “Fresh air? At this hour? Do you know what time it is, even?”

Molly had, in all honesty, lost track of time. They might have just been gone for fifteen minutes. Or perhaps it had been five hours. She couldn’t be sure, and much less cared, not when Arthur’s warm fingers were still wound tightly around hers.

Unfortunately, someone did care about the lateness of the hour, it seemed.

“Aha!” a voice called from behind. Molly and Arthur spun on their heels, hearts leaping into their throat at the sight of that aging enemy of every Hogwarts student: the scrupulous caretaker, Apollyon Pringle.

Pringle wagged an accusatory finger in the pair’s direction as he hobbled over. “One in the morning! One! Students aren’t supposed to be out of bed this late. This means punishment. No, shh, shh,” he pressed a finger to his mouth as Arthur and Molly began protesting, his head shaking in obvious rage. “I’ll have you in detention, I will. And it won’t be no lines, mind you. It will be more painful than that. Only way to deal with the likes of you - you delinquents…”

What with the caretaker’s dire promises of hanging Arthur by his wrists and endless mutterings about rulebreakers and suspensions and disgrace, their mood was noticeably less jovial when she and Arthur finally slipped back into the now empty common room. A few dying embers glowed in the fireplace, their smoky, crackling presence the only other sound as he kissed her goodnight and they parted ways for the night.

And yet, in spite of the detention awaiting her in the coming days, Molly couldn’t help but grin as she ascended the stairs, giddy at the thought of seeing Arthur again in the morning, and the following day, and the day after that. Wondering, as she tiptoed into her dormitory, where else they would escape to next.

#ttb #WeasleyWeek #molly prewett #arthur weasley

[fionajames]

tcw circus au!

this is for @lovejoysoots, this is the second part of your request.

guys i have no fucking idea wtf this is but like here, i rlly rlly rlly enjoyed writing it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is the third piece of writing of four im posting today (srsly dont hold me to that tho) enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahsoka cracked her knuckles yet again, rolling her shoulders back and pushing her three blue and white plaits back. The younger girl had orange-tan skin, creamy birthmarks that looked more like markings, bright blue eyes and very long blue and white hair that she always tied in three plaits.

The acrobatic raced forwards in a sprint, launching herself off of the caravan’s roof and landing lightly on the tightrope strung up behind the caravans and the stage. Ahsoka breathed a sigh of relief as she dropped from the rope and onto the mat below, high-fiving Anakin.

Anakin had medium length messy brown hair, swimming blue eyes, light skin and a scar covering his right eye that no one really knows how he got, as he changes the cause every time. Standing next to him was Obi-Wan, who had ginger hair around the same length as Anakin’s, a ginger beard, freckled light skin and calm blue eyes. 

The three worked closely together as Anakin had been Obi-Wan’s apprentice and then Ahsoka was Anakin’s. They all worked in Acrobatics but Ahsoka was also very talented in Equestrian Vaulting. They were like brothers and sister, and everyone in the circus knew it. “Good job, little one,” Obi-Wan told her and she beamed at him as he also high-fived her. “Arsev is ready.”

Ahsoka beamed and nodded as she and Anakin headed to the stables to get their own horses. Ahsoka’s horse was a male red and white paint horse called Arsev, and Anakin’s was a blue roan quarter horse named Artoo. Sure, the horses' names were weird, but they all had meanings. 

“Are you ready for tonight?” Anakin asked as he led Artoo from his stable, walking by the horse’s shoulder. Ahsoka did the same, playing with the end of Arsev’s mane as she did. 

“Always am,” she told him with a smirk, waving to her best friend - a teenaged boy several years older named Rex - as he walked past. Rex came from a huge family that had all been orphaned and he and a huge portion of his brothers had joined their circus. 

“Well that’s good,” Anakin told her with a light shove to her shoulder. She gasped dramatically and pushed him back. “Race you to the river!” He shouted as he jumped on Artoo, racing off in the direction with a laugh.

“Rude,” Ahsoka snarled as she grasped the horn of the saddle, throwing herself up onto her horse in one quick motion. “Let’s go beat this bitch’s ass, Arsev,” she told her horse before chasing after Anakin.

                              -

After Ahsoka and Arsev beat Anakin and Artoo in every single race he declared - even though Anakin denied losing every single time - they ended up at the 212th’s caravan. They’d given all of the caravans numbers - random numbers, there weren’t actually hundreds of caravans - and grouped various people into them.

The 212th’s caravan consisted of Obi-Wan, Cody, Boil, Waxer, Trapper and Oddball, and they’d painted their caravan yellow and white. Ahsoka and Anakin were in the 501st caravan - although they’d given Ahsoka a hammock so she was out of sight from the others, for privacy - with Rex, Fives, Echo, Tup, Jesse and Hardcase. Although some of the names were strange, a lot of the boys had changed their both names to their nicknames upon joining the circus. 

There were more caravans everywhere including the main caravan which consisted of the ringmaster - a cool, crazy, short man called Yoda - his second-in-command - a tall, stern-ish man called Mace - and the rest of their group - Shaak, Kit, Ki-Adi and Plo. 

Although, Plo had moved to be with his sons - they weren’t really his sons but he’d basically adopted all of them - in the 104th with Wolffe, Sinker, Boost and Comet. Plo had basically adopted most of the circus members and Yoda had gone along with it.

“Hey, Cody!” Ahsoka chirped as the man leapt down from the roof of his caravan, landing beside her with a smile.

“Hey, kid, how’s it going?” The boy asked, ruffling her hair and laughing when she grimaced at the action. 

“Not bad!” She told him with a grin, swatting his hand away. “I’m going to visit the boss.”

Cody laughed and pushed her in Yoda’s caravan lightly. “Off you go then.” 

Ahsoka skipped to the Jedi caravan - why’d they’d named it ‘Jedi’ no one really remembered - as she waved and greeted everyone she saw along the way. “Yoda, are you in here?” She knocked and smiled when she was met with the familiar short man. Yoda had very long white and green hair and a beard to match it, with the same colours. He had gleaming, wise green eyes and light skin. 

“Hello, Ahsoka,” he greeted and Ahsoka gave him a smile. “Ready for the show tonight, you are?” Ahsoka nodded, very used to his strange way of talking. Everyone was. No one could remember why he did it, or even if he could not do it.

“Yes, Yoda!” She saluted playfully. 

“Then with Fives, you should go,” Yoda told her, poking her with the end of his walking stick - a brown stick with interesting, swirling patterns. “Guard the money, you shall.”

Ahsoka laughed and nodded, turning to leave. “Yes sir!” She shouted as she hurried to meet her friend.

                            -

Hours later, Ahsoka was stood with a huge grin as she played with Arsev’s mane, getting ready to head into the ring. As Mace introduced her, the crowd cheered. “Ready, Snips?” Anakin asked, ruffling her hair as always.

“Always, Skyguy.”

Ahsoka took Arsev’s reign and led him into the ring with her, letting go as she did. She bowed as the crowd cheered, Arsev beginning to canter around the ring. Ahsoka sucked in a breath as she reached an arm out as the horse went past, grasping onto the horn of the saddle and pulling herself up and onto the saddle in one quick motion.

As the crowd cheered, Ahsoka began standing up on Arsev’s saddle, spreading her arms out for balance. She moved into a handstand with a grin as she spotted Anakin, Obi-Wan and Rex cheering her on from behind the curtains. 

Ahsoka continued to do her routine with many, many impressive manoeuvres. After she’d finished, Hardcase, Jesse and Fives entered the stage and did their usual comedy routine - something that made absolutely everyone laugh. Rex and Cody then performed their music act - which everyone found hypnotising and stunning. 

Then Obi-Wan and Anakin entered the stage to do their acrobatics act. As usual, the crowd was astounded as Obi-Wan dangled Anakin from the top of the ropes - metres in the air - and threw him up in the air. Anakin did a flip before Obi-Wan caught his feet again. 

They continued their performance until the show was over, when groups of the performers left for Rex, Cody and some others to busk. 

“You were great, Snips,” Anakin told Ahsoka as she pulled out her violin - which she played fiddle style - and grabbed his own guitar. 

“So were you, Skyguy,” she told him. 

“Everyone was great,” Obi-Wan told them, entering the caravan to watch. 

“That’s for sure.”

hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!!!!! im very tempted to do more of this so tell me if i should!!!!!!!!!!!!!

request people!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! like im being srs. pls.

ps. OMG I JUST REALISED THAT THE SEPPIES CAN BE A RIVAL CIRCUS 😲

#star wars #the clone wars #clone wars #clone troopers #tcw #501st legion #captain rex #anakin skywalker #ahsoka #clones #ahsoka tano #obi-wan #obi-wan kenobi #anakin #commander cody #circus #circus au #circus gar au #jedi #yoda #mace windu #prequels #sw #sw prequels #ka’ra writes ❤️

[harinishivaa]

Colours of Vaani

The sound of gentle anklets tinkled joyously in the ears of Brahma, who was in deep thought. The very feel of the sound gave Him a deeper clarity, the anklets belonging to His Eternal Ardhaangini Sarasvati, whose Lotus feet touched the open leaves of the Lotus flowers, they spreading wide just for Her, giving Her feet space, freely offering their reverential devotion. He knew Her feet would be stained red, deeper than the usual red, owing to the fact that She had just come from Vaikunta, where it was customary to send Medha back only with new kumkum applied.

He could envision the mischievous argument which would have broken out then, in the form of banter.

"Medha, can I please colour your feet red?" Lakshmi asked, eyes twinkling innocently, yet filled with mischief.

"Lakshmi, has Bhrata Narayana finally taught you mischief?" Uma teased, giggling when Lakshmi pouted at Her, though the mischief in Her Lotus eyes did not even falter for a second.

"Can I colour yours, Sri?" questioned Medha, Her own eyes, so very much like Shiva's, arresting and beautiful, shone in deep amusement.

"We all will colour each other's," said Sri instead, laughing when Uma gave Her a mock exasperated look.

"Yes, we will!"

"And we did, Swami!"

Her voice was like the pleasant waterfalls that soothed an injured heart and Soul, a gentle balm lovingly caressing and healing. Brahma opened His eyes to see His wife standing in front of Him, one foot pointed, the other flat, the curves of Her soles splendid in their beauty. Her standard half white clothing held the tinge of Vaikunta's Bliss. Her bangles had changed into a different set than the pearl ones She had worn that morning, now decked with rubies studded in gold bangles, a gift Sri had hand crafted Herself, no doubt. The necklace She wore was the same one she always wore, pearl in gold, a gift He had given Her right after their marriage, a symbol of Her purity alone being the reason for the shine of His golden nature that created the Universe with Her help.

He took in Her calm Lotus face, eyes lined with kohl and Her sindoor filled with the red kumkum He always placed on Her forehead, Her pottu beautiful and round. Her hair was plaited and decorated with jasmine, no doubt the handiwork of Uma.

"Swami!"

Medha's face had taken on a deep red hue, making Brahma adore Her even more. Jnanamayi Vidya was blushing just due to His adoration?

"Swami, stop pretending to be some normal human," pouted Sarasvati, touching His feet before sitting down on the Lotus to His left, ever Her position, the Lotus white, much like Her very purity.

"Priye, you make me know the value and meaning of Love. Then how can I not be human with you?"

Brahma's words made Medha smile, tender, loving, deep and shy; She was ever the newly wed bride with Him.

"Words true of you are true of me too, Praneshvara. If you are human with me, I too am only a woman with you. Not MahaDevi, as I am to most," said She, Her voice the compliment of His baritone, both soothing, gently loving the Universe like only the Creators could.

"Vaani, I have not the words to describe you," said Brahma softly. "All I can say is that anything I say is because of you, anything I act upon is because of you. If I am passive, you are the active part of me, ever watchful and present. It is your energy that aids this Creation that is part of my duties."

"Swami, an Ardhaangini is She who is forever a partner to Her husband in every single way possible. She has a share in every creation, every responsibility, in every happiness, and most definitely, in every sadness of His. She is His other half, like He Hers. How can we be different? What you wish is what I do. What I prompt is what you say. We are Complete together."

Brahma just listened to Her adoringly, His eyes conveying the depth of Love He felt for Her. She could see the reflection of His love in His wide eyes, touching Her face and causing a gentle caress on it. A smile on Her lips, She leaned forward to place Her head on His shoulder, the two seated on Brahma Deva's pink Lotus, lost in Their own Bliss, even as the sounds of Sarasvati's Veena sang through the Universe, awakening Joy, Happiness, Prosperity and Righteousness across the endless Brahmanda.

********

@vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @celestesinsight @krishna-sahacharini @kaal-naagin @krishnapriyakiduniya @nirmohi-premika @chemicalmindedlotus @whippersnappersbookworm @sakhiiii @ambidextrousarcher @willkatfanfromasia @nspwriteups @dr-scribbler @rupkatha-banerjee @theramblergirl @hinsaa-paramo-dharma @moon-880 @thegleamingmoon Please let me know you thoughts, and do let me know if the rest of you want to be added to the list. 

#sanatana dharma #sanatana #sarasvati #brahma #desi academia #desi #desiblr #trideva #tridevi #krishna #shiva #rama #mahabharata #ramayana

[crispyjenkins]

living icarus epilogue/omake

Mando'a:

mesh’la — “beautiful”, but not necessarily physically; used in this context as a sort of equivalent to “love” or “애인”? used instead of copyc because my brain does not like how that word sounds out loud

just wanted to add this scene i couldn't get out of my head, but i liked where the main fic ended, so. here. have an omake of boys bein in love and such

  Obi-Wan grows his hair out, after, before chopping it all off again. Keeping it just long enough for a single French braid that ends at his shoulders, he takes to letting Rex weave a matte ribbon in 501st blue into the plait every morning.

  He doesn’t wear armour anymore, at least nothing more than some reinforced plates under his tunic and the single vambrace from Rex’s old kit; he doesn’t go back to Jedi browns and beiges, though, instead choosing to dress in the muted jewel tones of Melidaan, newly renamed and once again a part of the Republic. 

  Which is where Rex finds the two of them a couple of months after the fighting actually stops —they’d still had to deal with Dooku and all the other insurrectionist planets, afterall, as well as Skywalker, who hadn’t taken Palpatine’s death well at all— invited back to join the celebration of the reopening of Zehava, the capitol. Technically, Rex isn’t supposed to be there, Melidaan’s new government is staunchly anti-war and think the clones are followed by conflict like particularly annoying harbingers, but Obi-Wan had insisted on sneaking him in, and even if he hadn’t, Rex wouldn’t have let him face this all alone.

  Tahl’s grave is exactly where Obi-Wan had first dug it, miles out of Zehava on the outskirts of the forest that had almost been decimated during the civil war. Someone has planted some kind of creeping flower over the entire hill, that has all but overtaken the rough gravestone Obi-Wan had managed to make between battles all those years ago. There’s a fancy, honorary gravestone in Central Zehava, but it’s little more than a monument, and Rex isn’t surprised when Obi-Wan skips paying his respects to her there, to instead hike all the way out to the real one.

  Disguised, Rex stands over Obi-Wan’s shoulder as he carefully buries his padawan braid at the foot of the overgrown headstone, coiled up in a small wooden box Frisbee had found in some market or other in Mandalorian space. Skywalker hadn’t even noticed Obi-Wan had never offered his braid at the end of his apprenticeship, not that he had deserved such a hallowed show of thanks, but Rex is glad there had never been a confrontation about it, so that Obi-Wan can have this moment with his first Master over half a decade late.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” Obi-Wan’s voice pulls him from his thoughts, the man not even looking up from where he’s knelt with his eyes closed over Tahl’s grave. Rex snorts, checking their perimeter once more before moving to stand next to Obi-Wan properly, secretly pleased with the relaxed, fond smile on his lips.

  “Forgive me, Mesh’la,” he snarks, letting Obi-Wan lean his shoulder into Rex’s thigh, “I did not realise you didn’t prefer the strong and silent type.”

  Obi-Wan barks out a laugh. “You are far from a strong and silent type, my dear,” he returns easily, smile widening.

  Feigning offense, Rex steps back to let Obi-Wan get to his feet. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, nothing, my dear.” With a smirk, Obi-Wan brushes his knuckles over Rex’s cheek as he passes him on the way back to the path. “Now, enough of that: our Jump back to Coruscant will take about a week, but once we’re there, how do you feel about helping me find the illegal sabbac den Kote is running out of his apartment, and convincing him I don’t know a lick of Mando’a?”

  Oh, Rex is ever so in love with him.

#rexobi #crispy writes #see i'm the living icarus #obi wan as anakin's padawan au #angst with a happy ending #obi wan kenobi #captain rex #clone wars

[tc-doherty]

Book One | Chapter Eleven

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @bloodlessheirbyjacques @magefaery @did-i-do-this-write @marrowwife

@muddshadow @outpost51 @full-on-sam @bluberimufim

@unclear-contributions @talesfromtheunknowable @guessillcallitart @flowerprose

(Ask to be added or removed)

But it didn't end up only being the four of them. To her surprise Errys and Petrich saw them and joined in, along with Karles and another noble lady she had not been introduced to. But this dance required very little singing, and a great deal of pairing off before separating and pairing off with someone else, and so Patrice found herself unexpectedly in the middle of several conversations at once.

Johan said to her, "All we mean to do is offer you our hand in friendship, Lady Dragon. Now that you're interacting with the court, we finally have a chance to do so."

As the two of them stepped careful circles around each other, Patrice responded. "I don't understand why you should want any such thing."

"Humans are sociable, we enjoy making new friends." He grinned. "We might like it especially when the potential friend in question is unusual and intriguing. We're also very curious, you know. Horrible busybodies."

Patrice could hardly argue with that!

When she came round to pair off with Rothert, she couldn't help but ask "Did you really throw your jousting match so that Johan could advance? You were fighting for the princess, so I'm sure that doesn't reflect well on her."

He laughed. "She already knew I wouldn't win. We are cousins, you know."

Patrice looked at him doubtfully. He didn't look anything like the royal family.

“My father is the king-consort’s brother, who married a Juskan noble,” he explained. “Johan’s father is the queen’s brother. Although we initially grew up at our family estates, once we became squires we moved into the palace here with our royal cousins."

"Then Dame Errys is also your cousin?"

He nodded. "That's true, but we don't know her particularly well. Never met her before this tournament."

The next handoff brought her to the side of the woman in question.

"I have to thank you," Errys said as they danced. "You being here has made it so that I'm not the center of attention, and for that I'm truly grateful. Things could be awkward otherwise."

"Oh, with your family?"

"So to speak." Errys swung her around before speaking again. "I never do less than my best of course, but I have to admit I didn't really expect to win the tournament, certainly never planned on coming face-to-face with any of my estranged family members. I have no idea what to say to them."

"That makes two of us."

Errys only laughed.

The next turn brought her to Sir Karles who was polite though distant, and then to his lady who – seemingly due to shyness – did not say a single word. She did not even take part in a few places that required singing, though she must've certainly known the words. And then she found herself paired up with Petrich.

Patrice wasn't exactly small, she was taller than all of the women she'd met so far, and taller than some of the men too, but Petrich dwarfed her. His hair and beard were darker than either Felisjyta's or Rozhalea's, much closer to brown, and both had been trussed up in several complicated looking plaits. He wore the same style of clothing as Felisjyta, though in shades of blue, brown, and white.

"Lady Dragon, it is an honor," he told her.

The reverence in his voice was more than Patrice could respond to, so she merely said, "You fought very well in the tournament."

He shook his head. "If you want to see something impressive, you can attend the melee tomorrow. I'm more suited for such things."

"Perhaps."

"After all this is done," he said, "we would be happy to have you return to Serze with us. It would suit you better, the wilderness. Dragons aren't meant to remain trapped in such places as this."

"Maybe I should like to see it, someday."

And then she found herself face-to-face with Felisjyta again.

"For someone who didn't know how to dance half an hour ago, you're doing quite well," said Felisjyta.

"I admit I am enjoying myself more than I thought I would. Just like the tournament, and many other things at court," Patrice said. "As long as I concentrate on one thing at a time."

"See? It's not so terrible, even if it is a little more complicated than the way dragons do things. Or Serzeks for that matter." Felisjyta smiled here. "Just concentrate on living, the rest will follow in time."

"How draconian of you."

"I believe some things are the same, whether you are a dragon or a human."

And thus the dance circled around again and she found herself with Johan as her partner. She grabbed for the threads of the multiple conversations she had been pulled into.

"Rothert says that the two of you are related to the royal family, does that make you royalty as well?

"We aren't in line for the throne if that's what you're asking," he said with a chuckle. "It's in the bylaws of the country that knights aren't allowed to rule. The two of us were rather pushed in that direction, though we intended it anyway. There are already more than enough people in the line of succession without adding us and our siblings to the mix."

"Why can't you rule?" Patrice asked, intrigued. For as much as she complained to herself, she could admit that humans also fascinated her with their endless complexities and rules, so different from the stable and mostly solitary dragons.

Johan thought about it for a minute. "Well naturally, any ruler needs to be able to fight. The rulers, and the heirs for that matter, are expected to be on the field of battle if necessary. They need to know how to direct troops. But for a stable country, a ruler needs to know more than just war. So knights, who dedicate our lives to the study of war, wouldn't make a good fit. After a time there just developed a tradition of the oldest children in noble families becoming knights in a show of deference to the current ruling family."

"That actually makes something resembling sense," Patrice said, surprised.

He laughed. "I'm glad something does. In our case it was even more necessary. Rothert's older sister accepted an alliance marriage back to Juska, and his younger brother will take over the family estate. I'm a knight as well as marrying off, which leaves my little sister to run the estate. All good ways of saying 'we're not a threat'. More royal families have been undone by relatives than by outsiders."

"Is it really such a common thing that your families need to worry about it?"

"Lady Patrice, humans have an endless capacity for most things, greed and lust for power being two of them."

And on that disturbing note, he handed her off to Rothert.

"Hello again, beautiful lady," he said.

Patrice could only roll her eyes. "We aren’t even the same species," she told him. Although, it's not like that had stopped her father, now had it?

"Ah, you have much to learn about human culture, such as the games played between men and maids. There is no need to be alarmed, courtly romance has little to do with actual romance. It really is just a game." He winked. "Besides, everyone knows that Juskan men are fiery and passionate and great lovers of beauty. It is my duty to offer every lovely young lady here a shower of compliments and praise."

"And now we're back to humans not making sense."

"It doesn't need to make sense to you, but you can take my word for it, you won't lack for dance partners all evening." He laughed, and even Patrice had to smile. His attitude was somewhat infectious.

He continued to shower her with increasingly more ridiculous compliments until finally it was time to change partners again. "Off with you then, stop pestering me," she told him with mock severity.

He kissed the back of her hand lightly and left her to Errys's company.

Much to her surprise, Patrice found that Rothert had been correct. She didn't lack for partners all evening. As soon as one round or reel was completed, another nearby would scoop her up. It isn't that it wasn't fun, but it was simply so chaotic. The constant movement, constant noise, the bright light of hundreds of candles, and the overwhelming array of colors. Patrice had never experienced things like this before, and found herself, all of a sudden, quite overwhelmed. Somewhere past two in the morning she fled into the gardens and made her way back to her suite in the dark and silence.

Patrice did not attend the melee the next day.

She did not leave her suite.

She hardly even left her bed. She spent the day alone, drifting between restless sleep and pondering the predicament she'd gotten herself into.

Patrice had told the maids early on not to bother with her. She could hear them chattering and gossiping in the main room, working on the wardrobe she was to take with her to summer court. The three of them would not be enough to make such clothing in only a few days' time. She knew they had invited some of their friends and sisters into her suite to help, but that did not concern her. What would they do? Steal the jewelry she barely tolerated anyway?

Patrice tuned them out the best she could.

Dragons lived long lives, and were rarely impulsive. They adapted, certainly, but they still took comfort in planning and logic. Patrice's life among the humans – brief as it had been so far – had been anything but planned or logical. Instead, others had taken control, dragging her along from one thing to another: the carousel, the tournament, the banquet, the dance. Now, somehow, Patrice was a lady in this human court, and expected to act as such.

She wasn't sure she could escape that role now. Certainly, there were other places in the human world to go. But that would just be more humans, and more traditions that she had to learn, more expectations placed on her, and even less control.

Patrice rolled over and stared at one of the tapestries in her room, the scene of purple gray mountains, dark forests, and the blood red of a setting sun. It was the sort of place a dragon would live.

She couldn't live with the dragons. Even if she had the ability to approach them, they would know her for a halfbreed immediately. Presumably they would exile her as they had exiled her mother.

Patrice listened to the maids talking and laughing in the main room. That was another consideration, she could not live among commoners in any country – she had no useful skills to offer, no talent with which to make a living, no knowledge to impart.

She knew she could return to the tower, but the thought of going back made her heart freeze. For all Patrice's life, it had just been her and her mother, with few exceptions. Some dragons ignored the exile and came to visit them, but those that did stopped by rarely.

For all that her mother had loved humans, Patrice had been forbidden from crossing the wall out of the old kingdom alone, and from even being on the grounds when knights drew near. It had been a long and lonely childhood, though she was only realizing it now. The thought of returning, even if her mother had been alive, did not sit well. With her mother dead, she didn't think she could bear it.

Patrice had never realized how lonely she had been, not until being here among all these people. Like a thirsty woman in the desert who had finally found an oasis, she could not face the idea of going back to such a solitary life. Even if the number of people here was overwhelming, it was still better than complete solitude.

But what were her options here? To simply be swept along in court politics, to spend her life facing fake flirtation and constantly needing to second-guess whether she could trust someone?

While her maids giggled and laughed in the sitting room, Patrice quietly wept in hers. Burning tears singed her pillows and ate small holes in the fabric of her nightgown. She wept for her mother, and for being the way she was, and for not knowing what to do or who to trust. She wept harder because she'd been trying not to – she hadn't wanted to show any sign of weakness to the humans of the court. Now she couldn't stop. All the grief, the anger, the uncertainty all came out at once, leaving her exhausted, empty, and cold.

That was how Felisjyta found Patrice that evening – with red rimmed eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Felisjyta had only come to give her something to eat, but when she saw Patrice's stricken look, she had no choice but to stay.

She shut the door behind her, set her platter aside, and gathered Patrice into her arms. "Oh, Patrice," she said, resting her forehead against Patrice's in the way dragons did. "Everything is going to be fine."

Patrice had thought she was out of tears, but getting comforted by someone just set her off again. She curled up against Felisjyta's shoulder and wept.

Felisjyta just held her and stroked her hair and whispered encouragements. It couldn't have been comfortable for the knight, but she held on despite the heat of the tears and the prick of too sharp nails on her skin.

The two of them sat that way in the dark for a long while after Patrice had stopped crying again. At some point, Felisjyta slowly disentangled herself from the dragon and moved to light one of the candles on the bedside table. "I'm sorry," she said. "I probably shouldn't have pushed you so hard. I know I can be a little bit too oblivious to other people's feelings. I should've noticed how upset you are."

"No," Patrice said. The word came out as half laugh and half sob. "I didn't want anyone to notice. All of this is just…it's so much. And I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Who does?" Felisjyta asked.

Patrice shook her head. "Everything has changed so fast, and I had no say in any of it. I still have no say. And I miss my mother. Even if she could be just as overbearing, at least I always knew what to expect. At least I knew that she cared about me and that I could trust her. And this," she pulled the lump of stone out from under her pillow, "is going away so fast! How can you expect to express all your grief in such a short time?"

Felisjyta sat back down on the bed. "I told you in the beginning, Patrice. Humans grieve together. We comfort one another. It's all right for you to be upset, and to act like you're upset."

"I don't want any humans to see me as weak. I don't want them to know how out of place I am here." The thought hovered at the back of her mind that she was out of place everywhere but now, finally, there were no more tears to shed over that particular fact.

Felisjyta laughed. "You silly, stubborn little dragon, don't you think everybody already knows how out of place you are? I believe that's something a lot of people find endearing, actually."

Patrice said nothing.

"You just lost your mother, we know you must be upset," Felisjyta continued. "No one here would expect you not to be upset. In the future you can come to me. Or I'm sure your maids would be happy to fuss over you. You don't give them nearly enough to do as it is."

"I suppose," Patrice said. But she knew that she would continue to grieve in private.

Felisjyta gave her a sad look, as if she knew it too, but didn't dwell on it. "I am sorry. I should have checked on you last night. I admit I rather lost track of the evening."

"I wouldn't have wanted to see you last night."

"Fair enough. Do you think you can eat something now? I know you didn't have much at the banquet. Everything seems better on a full stomach."

Patrice gave a nod of assent and took the platter Felisjyta handed her. It was deer meat again, but Patrice had never turned her nose up at deer before and she wasn't going to start now. Although she did have to wonder where Felisjyta was getting it. Perhaps hunting actually was allowed on the royal family's grounds. She could also admit that it was kind of nice having someone else provide for her. "How was the melee?" She asked before she began eating.

Felisjyta leaned back on the bed. She waved one hand in a lazy gesture as she spoke. "Chaotic, loud, and dangerous," she said. "Sir Eddard came out with a broken arm, and he wasn't the only one."

"Are you all right?" Patrice paused to look over the knight. Felisjyta seemed much the same as usual, dressed in a loose white tunic with red embroidery and blue britches. She didn't look as if she were in any pain.

"Fine, just fine," said Felisjyta. "I got knocked on my ass within the first five minutes anyway."

Reassured, Patrice went back to nibbling on the meat. "Who won?"

"Petrich. I think his size worked to his advantage."

"The duchess must be pleased."

"As a cat in cream. We came second in the joust, first in the melee, and first in the archery contest." There was an odd, discontent look on Felisjyta's face that Patrice couldn't even begin to decipher. But she couldn't help but remember Rozhalea's insulting words from the previous evening.

"But it doesn't please you?"

"Not that," Felisjyta said. "Rozhalea, oh… I don't know. We've been working so hard since we came here, training all the time, practicing those stupid rules with all the new armor and everything. It's like she's trying to turn us into something we aren't. And those of us who fall short of that ideal…"

"I understand," Patrice said, and patted Felisjyta's shoulder.

The knight laughed. "You better than anyone. But hey now, there's no reason to talk about depressing things like this. I'll tell you about the melee."

Patrice ate as Felisjyta described the melee from start to finish and let the words wash over her. Hearing about it, Patrice was glad she hadn’t gone. It sounded even louder and more chaotic than the joust. She didn’t think her frayed nerves would have been able to handle it.

The food, the company, and the chatter helped. By the time Felisjyta was ready to leave Patrice felt, if not great, then at least good enough. She bid the knight a goodnight, and fell into the sort of dead sleep that one can only achieve when truly exhausted.

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#writeblr #writing #tc's writing #dragon's daughter #femslash #queer fantasy #fantasy novels #authors on tumblr

[nonclassyparty]

(not) my baby - c.s.

title; because the morning comes and you’re not my baby

notes; a drabble from subtle variations of heartbreak series that i’ve decided to start posting. they will be short but i think there will be a lot of them and they’ll all be written from the point of view of the members. i’ll be posting them randomly, sometimes with new scenes sometimes with scenes from the series.

san knew that party would be the party.

from the way you fidgeted in your seat, your thigh brushing his as you watched yunho talk with a classmate leaned on the wall across the room, from the way yunho glanced back and forth at you when he thought no-one would notice.

san noticed. san always fucking noticed.

you both had feelings for each other. you liked each other. and it all caused san’s guts to twist in the worst way possible, the green monster threatening to come out every time he would catch you staring at yunho like he hung the fucking moon on the sky and scattered stars around it, just for you.

san liked you first. 

and he knows that means absolutely nothing when he never told a single soul about his pathetic crush on you. but he liked you before yunho liked you.

he remembers seeing you for the first time in freshman year. you were at the quad with the rest of the dance team, in shorts and a t-shirt. you were sweaty, hair falling out of your ponytail as you executed every move.

and san, a mere freshman who was trying out for the football team, thought you were the prettiest girl he’s seen. now, two years later and nothing has really changed.

well, less than two more to go and you would all be off to college and san will never have to see your stupid, beautiful face again.

but now, he had to watch you pine over yunho. yunho, who was one of san’s best friends. yunho, your neighbour.

san remembers a time in freshman year, when you and yunho weren’t friends. the rest of the guys were all hanging out in yunho’s backyard that summer, lounging on the grass and enjoying the snacks and cold drinks yunho’s mom made him prepare.

you waltzed out the house next door in a sundress and your long hair fell over your shoulders in two plaits, your skin was tanned from the summer sun and all the baby fat seemed to disappear in the three months that san didn’t see you. he almost choked on the chip he was chewing because he had no idea that you lived next to yunho.

but also, because you looked even prettier than before and it was starting to become a problem.

before san could stop his brain, the words left his mouth.

“hi, y/n!” he called out, the other boys turning quieter as their eyes followed your movements to your mom’s car where you pulled a paper bag filled with groceries to the brim.

you turned to the direction of san’s voice in slight surprise. san didn’t know if you even knew him, you had a couple of classes together but you were both in different friend groups. your eyes turning into crescent shapes as you gave him a bright smile that made his palms sweat. he leaned them on the cool grass just so no one else would notice.

“hi, san!” you reply and disappear back into your house.

you knew his name. it made san flush bright red as he stared at the, now closed, front door of your house. the nudge to his ribs snapped him out of his daze.

it was yunho.

“what was that about?” yunho mutters and if san didn’t know any better, it almost seemed like he was pissed that san greeted you. was he not on good terms with you?

“what?” san shrugs, his confusion genuine. “she goes to school with us.”

yunho pursues his lips in thought not saying anything else, dealing another stack of cards to the circle. but san doesn’t miss the way yunho glances at the window facing his house from next door every now and then.

when you and yunho become friends again, san thinks he might have a chance. it’s a slim chance because you barely speak to him except for when you greet him but it’s a chance nonetheless because he gets to spend more time in your company.

it’s when he notices the way yunho and you are when you’re together, that everything goes to hell.

you two probably never noticed it before, but yunho and you always had a bubble of your own that everyone else was an outsider to. san comforted himself saying that you two were just friends for the longest time but sometimes...

sometimes your eyes would stray to yunho when you’re lost in thought and they would grow softer and make san sad because...that was the way he looked at you.

san wished he could hate yunho, he really did but it’s just not that simple.

yunho was one of his best friends. he was a good person. and he bought you your favorite snacks and laughed the loudest at your jokes. yunho made you happy, so how could san possibly hate him?

“why don’t you just tell him?” san whispers in your ear, a strand of your soft hair brushing against the tip of his nose. you turn to him in surprise, cheeks already turning red for getting caught staring at yunho.

“tell who what?” you ask quietly and san has to bite his lip to stop his chest from caving in from his first ever heartbreak that is bound to happen because this party is the party. 

“you know who and you know what.” he responds back matter-of-factly. “you’re only torturing yourself like this.”

and it’s unnecessary torture as well because yunho felt the same way. he was just too big of a whimp to make the first move. and it was painful to fucking watch, even for san who was in love with you.

“i’m scared.” you say quietly and san’s heart does a little backflip at the way your eyes turn bigger and lips fold into a devastating pout that you’re probably not even aware of. “what if he doesn’t like me back?”

“then you’ll at least know it, better than thinking you might have a shot for the rest of your life.” san says in the fashion very much familiar to him. make a joke, san, and pretend like your heart isn’t being ripped out because she’s in love with someone else.

he laughs a little at the glare you throw him, for a split second san hopes that if you and yunho start dating, then maybe you would hang out with san more. he’d like to be your friend if he can’t be anything else.

“he’d be stupid not to like you back.” san adds with honesty. maybe even a little bit too much honesty because for a second, he gets scared that he might’ve gave himself away but you don’t notice. you don’t even register the last part of san’s sentence where he adds that you should confess to yunho, because you’re too busy staring at the tall boy across the room.

san watches you two leave that night and he experiences his first heartbreak which wasn’t even an actual heartbreak. maybe just a variation of what awaits him in the future. but it hurts all the same.

that party is the party after which you and yunho will start dating.

it’s confirmed when san wakes up to messages from yunho in the morning, freaking out because apparently, yunho kissed you last night and (surprise surprise)- you liked him back.

and san is filled with relief, somewhat.

because he no longer has to be plagued by the what-ifs of his mind and he knows for sure that no matter how much he liked you, you liked someone else and that’s just it.

he can’t force you to change your mind and he doesn’t want to either. san wants both you and yunho to be happy.

it doesn’t matter if it’s his heart getting chipped away piece by piece.

#san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #choi san

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Silver Gala Couture Voice Lines

Summon Line: Fairies and humans are alike in that each person has their individual personalities. At least, it was that way in Briar Valley.

Groooovy!!: I shall help the show be a success. That is my mission.

Home: I wonder if I look enough like a fairy.

Home Idle 1: Vil-senpai plaited my bangs up. It has opened my field of vision, so it should be very helpful in my training as well. I would like to learn how to set it later.

Home Idle 2: When Ortho saw me in this outfit, he said I looked like a prince from a fairy tale. Does that mean he believes I look like Malleus-sama?

Home Idle 3: Sebek warned me, saying that as one of Lilia-senpai's disciples, I should not allow even a single stain on this white outfit. How like him to encourage me like that.

Home Idle - Login: We will definitely succeed in our mission. Only then will peace be restored to our campus.

Home Idle - Groovy: These decorative flowers on my shoulders and the top of my head are quite beautiful. ...What is my favorite flower? I don't particularly have one. Every flower has its own charm.

Home Tap 1: Although the outfit is extremely glamourous, it is quite easy to move around in. I've taken quite the liking to it, especially these boots. In case of emergency, I can use the heel as a weapon.

Home Tap 2: In order to protect everyone taking part in this mission, I must stay focused. I will make the most of my daily training.

Home Tap 3: Walking in order to specifically captivate others, hm... This is difficult. And here I thought I was proficient enough in physical movements.

Home Tap 4: Back in Briar Valley, fairies that have wings would often fly in tandem with each other. It seemed like so much fun, that when I was a child, I had wanted to be just like them.

Home Tap 5: ...Hm? Oh, you prepared a towel for me. Perfect timing, I was sweating from practicing for the show. I thank you.

Home Tap - Groovy: Am I not nervous to perform before a large group? Why, is there some relation between one's ability to perform and the number of people that are watching?

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst silver #twst translation #twst fairy gala #mention: vil #mention: ortho

[joekeeryswife]

coming in with another love island request!!

so the girls in the villa get sent footage from the boys at casa amor, Joe is one of the new boys and is in the villa with the girls right 😏

the footage shows readers partner snogging another girl and sleeping in bed with her after he had promised her his head wouldn’t turn and he was serious about her (all men r trash joe Keery is the only exception)

Joe doesn’t think she’s interested until it comes the time to pick whether you stay loyal to your partner and trust they come back single from casa amor or decouple with another boy and she picks him!!

Casa Amor - j.k

honestly Joe is the only exception! okay this was honestly so fun to write! all these love island fics are defo some of my faves to write so keep them coming in! i also used Caroline Flack as the main presenter because she is the OG and i miss her so much. i hope this was okay, thank you for the request <3

outfit ^

you and Molly were sat on the day beds, lounging around doing nothing. “i shouldn’t be saying this because i’m couples up with Tobi but Joe is more my type and i really like him. i feel bad though.” you ‘whispered’ to Molly as she plaited her hair. she nodded her head as she listened to you. “you know what, we have no idea what the boys are doing in Casa Amor and if you feel more attracted to Joe then i say go for it” she said. she wasn’t one of those girls who would judge you for your decisions and you were happy about that. you and Molly carried on with the conversation about Joe until you heard Anna shout that she got a text. her hand covered her mouth as she was the first one to watch the footage. “girls get here now” she shouted, you got up and walked briskly to her. she showed her phone to the girls and you all watched the footage.

your eyes widened at the sight of Tobi snogging another girl outside of a challenge and sharing a bed with her. you were shocked. you found Joe attractive but you hadn’t acted on it because Tobi had said that he would stay loyal to you and seeing that he hadn’t made your heart sink. just because you had an attraction to Joe didn’t mean you still didn’t like Tobi. Molly rubbed your back as she watched the footage in shock. most of the boys’ heads had turned and she felt bad for every single girl who’s boy turned. the footage finished and a few of the girls like Millie and Katie were crying because of the footage. you didn’t want to bring to light that your boy had basically cheated because you felt worse for the girls who were fully committed to that person.

you walked to the fire pit with Anna and Molly. “how you feeling y/n? i saw Tobi snogging that girl, i just can’t believe after four weeks his head turned” Anna said, shaking her head in disbelief. Anna honestly thought you and Tobi would get to the final but now, she was certain you wouldn’t stick with him. “obviously it hurts my feelings that it’s been four days and he’s already cracking on with someone else but i was saying to Molly earlier that Joe, the one on the bean bags with Ovie is a lot more my type so i’m probably going to get to know him. he caught my eye as soon as they came in so i might as well give it a go now.” you said, pushing your sunglasses up your nose. Anna nodded her head and spoke up again. “do you think you’ll tell him you’ll probably couple up with him or not?” she questioned, looking at you as you shifted in your seat.

“i don’t think i’ll make my decision till the recoupling. it may sound stupid but if Tobi came back in alone and i was with Joe, i’d feel awful” you said, looking down at your hands which were in your lap. “y/n. he basically cheated on you, what if you didn’t see that footage till you left the villa hmm? what would you do on the outside?” Molly said, butting in, Anna nodded in agreement. “you need to stop thinking about others and put yourself first now, go talk to Joe before Katie does, she said she has her eye on him and Jacob.” Anna said, building up your confidence. you sighed and nodded your head before you picked up your water bottle, walking to Joe who was still talking to Ovie, however you saw Katie walking up to him, luckily you got there first, making her turn around, walking back to Millie.

“hey guys” you said, sitting on a bean bag next to both Joe and Ovie. they said their hellos as you sat down. “Ovie can you come here please?” you heard Anna shout as she walked to the day beds, leaving you and Joe alone. “so, how you feeling after that video?” Joe said as Ovie got up and walked away. “well, he promised his head wouldn’t be turned and it did so i look like a mug. but oh well” you said, you didn’t come here to talk about Tobi, your wanted to get to know Joe more before the recoupling. “i’m sorry that happened, he shouldn’t of led you on like that” he said, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. you sook your head and spoke up, “please don’t apologise for him. i should have known he would do that” you said, not really interested in the situation anymore.

“anyway enough about that, tell me about you then. i feel like i haven’t really spoken to you since you got here.” you carried on, looking at Joe as he put on his sunglasses. “okay well, i’m 28 years old, i’m an actor. i’m also in a band and i sing.” he said. you didn’t expect anything less, he looked like a great singer and you’d always wondered what he did for work and now you knew. “i honestly can’t think of anything else to say, you’re making me nervous.” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. you laughed softly before speaking up. “why do i make you nervous?” you questioned. with Joe, you wanted to see if he was the right guy for you, and you making home nervous, definitely put some thoughts in your mind. “you’re a stunning girl and you’re speaking to me out of all the guys here so of course i’m going to get nervous” he said, shifting on the bean bag to look right at you.

you laughed loudly and you guys kept talking until Millie’s phone buzzed. “i got a text!” she shouted. you all looked at her and listened to her speak. “islanders, tonight there will be a recoupling in which the boys will come back from Casa Amor and you will decide if you want to stick with the boy you were previously coupled up with or if you want to recouple with another boy.” she shouted. you put your head in your hands stressed out. “hey, it’ll be alright. just have no regrets with the decision you make” Joe said, getting up off the bean bag to get ready, he put a hand out for you to grab and you did. he helped you out of the bean bag and you both walked to the kitchen where most people were standing, talking about the recoupling.

you had no idea who you were going to pick. of course Joe interested you and you really wanted to get to know him but you had been with Tobi since day one and sometimes it’s hard to let go. you left the conversation to go get into the shower. you needed to clear your head and sometimes a shower was the best thing for it. you did your normal shower routine and then started getting ready for the recoupling , comparing both situations in your mind. as you were doing your makeup, that’s when everyone else started to come up and get ready. after you were all ready, you, Molly, Anna and Amber all went to the terrace where you were asking their opinions on the situation.

they all said that you needed to recouple with Joe and that Tobi didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you. your head was in all different directions. you finished the conversation and walked down the stairs where everyone was off in their own conversations. as you were speaking to Ovie in the kitchen, he got a message that we all needed to gather around the fire pit and that the boys needed to stand in a line. you walked down and met Joe who was standing next to Ovie. “how you feeling?” Joe said just before everyone went to sit down. “i have no clue what i’m going to do” you said, he put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it before you went and sat down next to Amber.

Caroline walked into the Villa, this was it. this was the moment where you had to choose what you wanted to do. Millie went first, she stuck with her couple and he came back single, then Molly went and he also stayed single, then Caroline called on Katie to go. she thankfully recoupled with another boy who wasn’t Joe, then it was you. “y/n, how are you feeling?” Caroline said as she looked at you. “these past four days have made me rethink everything i knew and it’s just crazy how one video can change a whole situation” you replied, running a hand through your hair. “now before Casa Amor you were coupled up with Tobi, you have four lovely boys in front of you here which you can recouple with or you can stick with Tobi. what are you thinking of doing?” she said, looking pointing to the boys then looking back at you.

you sighed and looked down. “seeing that video has definitely put things into a new perspective and i think if i go back to Tobi i would regret not recoupling with this boy so i’ve decided to recouple.” you said, waiting for Caroline to speak up. Joe looked up from the wooden floor and looked at you. he was the only boy you had really spoken to and he was hoping you would

pick him. the boys who had come back from Casa Amor looked at you shocked. they thought you would 1000% stick with Tobi and hearing that there was a video surprised them. “who would you like to recouple with?” Caroline said. “Joe.” you said smiling. Joe smiled and walked to you. you pulled him in for a hug and kept standing. “you guys already look perfect together, let’s see what Tobi has chosen to do” you put your hand around Joe’s waist and he put a hand around your waist and you heard heels clicking across the cemented floor.

you knew he had recoupled with someone from Casa Amor, most likely the girl in the video. he walked down the stairs, shocked to see you standing with another boy. “Tobi welcome back to the villa, how are you feeling?” Caroline said, looking at Tobi and the mysterious girl. “yeah good, glad to be back here” Tobi said, looking at you. “as you can see, y/n also decided to recouple, how does it make you feel and do you regret your decision choosing Camilla?” she said, still looking at Tobi and the girl, Camilla “it’s a bit strange seeing her with another man but i don’t regret my decision, Camilla is amazing and she’s beautiful” he replied, you scoffed and shook your head. “okay well we have two new couples- Y/n and Joe and Tobi and Camilla.” she said, there was an awkward chap which filled the garden.

you sat down next to Joe. “are you happy i picked you?” you said, looking at him. he nodded his head and said “i had no clue you were into me like that. i wanted you to pick me from day one”. you laughed silently and kissed his cheek. he blushed brightly and looked kissed your forehead. you had definitely made the right decision. Tobi was watching the interaction unfold in front of him. he got jealous immediately when he watched Joe kissed your forehead, regretting his decision. the recoupling finished and you went to say goodbye to the two boys. you and Joe then walked to the sofa which was opposite the fire pit. “i’m glad you picked me.” Joe said, grabbing hold of your hands. “am i still making you nervous?” you laughed, looking at him. he nodded his head and laughed as well. “i’m still getting butterflies when i’m around you” he said, looking into your eyes. “i get butterflies when i’m around you as well” you said. you decided to take one of the biggest risks you’d ever taken in the villa and kissed Joe on the lips. he instantly kissed back and put his hand on your cheek. “i can’t wait to get to know you more” he said, you nodded your head and kissed him again.

#fanfiction #joe keery fanfic #joe keery fandom #joe keery one shot #joe keery x reader #joe keery #joe keery au #joe keery imagines #joe keery blurb #joe keery imagine #joe keery love island #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle imagine #kurtsworld96 #kurt kunkle blurb #kurt kunkle fanfic #imagines #fanfics #prompts #anon request #anon <3 #kurt kunkle #stranger things cast #steve harrington x y/n