#vision is lost the whole time basically | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

Note

hi could i request a percy fic based off of olivia’s new song obsessed?? where reader and percy got together after percabeth

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ I Got Issues, I Can't Help It, Baby

content: percy jackson x jealous! reader warning: mentions of jealous, little tiny baby minor fight, ends in comfort! author's note: argh this was such a good prompt and i feel like i've kinda fumbled it lmao. i dunno, i tried reworking it a few times but it wasn't coming out how i wanted frfr i like the beginning and the end but the middle can go rot frfr lmao it's cool tho whatevas. also posted from the airport 🫡

it was hard dating annabeth chase's ex boyfriend- er, sorry, percy jackson.

i mean, the girl made it nearly impossible to hate her. she was pretty, she was kind, she was smart, and she never spoke poorly of you. in fact, she was surprisingly supportive of your relationship with her ex, making 'good luck' comments with a teasing smile.

gods, you hated that you hated her.

you weren't even completely sure where it stemmed from. maybe a small part was from your insecurities, another part from that fact that camp was relatively small and everyone knew everything. you knew, before you even started to crush on your boyfriend, the he and annabeth had been the it couple for years. news of their break-up shook the whole camp. you couldn't help but feel like you had something to prove, following up all that.

what made it all that much harder was the fact that percy didn't see it like you did (few people saw it like you did, truly). he was so sweet with you, the perfect boyfriend, and here you were, glaring over at his perfect ex-girlfriend. the guilt ate away at your bones but you couldn't seem to look away.

"yn? you even listening to me?" percy asked with a chuckle, bumping his shoulder with yours.

"what? sorry, i got, er, distracted," you replied, ripping your eyes away from annabeth as she laughed in such a beautiful way, you were starting to understand how percy could have fallen in love with her. which left you wondering why he was even talking to you, let alone dating you.

"yeah? what's going on in that brain of yours, huh?" he asked, glancing at you with a concerned look. and you could see it, percy asking this same question to annabeth. which, in turn, had you huffing and rolling your eyes.

"nothing."

"woah. clearly, it's something. cmon, talk to me-"

"drop it, percy," you bit out, fully prepared to get up and stomp away.

"drop what? i don't even know what we're arguing about right now."

"i don't either!" was your murmured reply as you dug your head into your hands. you had flashes of thoughts of the darling daughter of athena, who problem has never not known something in her entire life.

"than why are we arguing?!" percy asked, his face all scrunched up in confusion. and it would have been cute and endearing if you could see through the rage that muddied your vision

"i dont know! im not as smart as annabeth, maybe then i could figure it out. or maybe then, we wouldn't even be arguing in the first place!" you cried, rapidly standing up and basically running from the boy, eager to hide the fact that tears were building in the corner of your eyes and the fact that you really didn't want to be fighting with him.

the rest of the day was spent holed up in your cabin. you kicked all your siblings out, telling them to scram unless they wanted to feel your wrath. they scattered pretty quickly. you buried your face in your pillows, occasionally screaming but that is simply between you and your pillow. you wanted to pull your hair out for arguing with your perfectly sweet boyfriend. you wanted to scream until you were blue in the face for even thinking mean thoughts about annabeth, who has been nothing but kind to you. but, most importantly, you weren't going to leave this cabin until a whole new generation of campers came and even then that was pushing it.

but, naturally, you're plans were disrupted by a knock against your cabin door.

"get lost!" you shouted into your pillow, refusing to get up and hoping the person got the message. evidently, they didn't as they knocked a few more times.

"leave me alone!" you called, barely lifting your face from the pillow so you could be better heard. and the knocking finally stopped. you would have smiled if you weren't in such a sour mood, promptly dropping your face back into your pillow with a sullen groan.

but then your cabin door was swinging open, percy proudly kneeling next to the lock he had picked. you jumped as the door open, fully removing your head from your pillow before locking eyes with your sweet boyfriend, who offered you a small smile and tilt of his head. you sighed, throwing yourself back into your pillows and hiding away from the boy, who chuckled softly at your actions.

you refused to look up again, but you could hear him close the door and begin to make his way towards you. the bed creaked as he sat down on the edge of it. nothing was said for a moment but you could feel percy's eyes on you and basically see his little smirk.

"wanna come out of the pillow?"

"no," came your muffled voice and percy rolled his eyes, knowing you couldn't see him.

"alright, have it your way. how about i talk and you actually listen this time?" percy offered and you hummed back, slightly worried about hat he was going to say. i mean, if i found out my girlfriend was obsessing over my ex, i'd break up with her too.

"if you're worried about annabeth, you really shouldn't be," percy started and you went to grumble about something but he cut you off, "shush. let me finish. sure, annabeth is great-"

"this is terrible, percy."

"let me finish, for gods sake! i was going to say that we broke for a reason and i got with you for a reason. yes, annabeth is a good person, but im with you. and i am so, so in love with you. you, perfectly you, yn. no annabeth, but you. not better or worse, just different," rambled percy and you couldn't help but slowly remove yourself from your pillow, bashfully looking up at the sweet son of poseidon.

"there's your pretty face," he muttered, seemingly without thinking. this had you rolling your eyes and falling against his chest, hiding your face in his camp shirt. he laughed softly, draping his arms loosely around you.

"im sorry," you whispered into the cotton fabric, more words of explanation for you actions dying on your tongue as he kissed your temple.

"me too. i should have noticed sooner," percy shrugged, tilting his head for a chance to meet your eyes. you allowed his sea green ones to lock onto yours and you knew you'd be okay. he always had that sort of easing effect on you, like sleeping with white noise on.

"no, it's alright. i've got issues, i just can't help it," you replied with a soft laugh.

"hey! ain't nothing wrong with being a little obsessed!"

"and you'd know, mr. im-gonna-stalk-your-ex."

"and then i beat him up."

"and then you beat him up, yes, how dare i leave that part out."

maybe it wasn't all that bad, seeing as percy was equally as obsessed as you were. jealous was a hideous green monster but...you and percy always thought you guys looked so good in green

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy pjo #percy jackson x y/n #annabeth chase #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

453 notes · View notes

moondirti · 1 year

Text

animalic (4)

← chapter three // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.5k summary: things don't go according to plan warnings: enemies to lovers, light bondage, sexual tension, arousal, choking, canon-typical violence, dub-con elements, paralysis, suicidal ideation, self-hatred, angst, miguel o'hara is not nice, no use of y/n notes: y'all. i promise we are getting somewhere. i promise. lmk what you think tho cuz i thrive off comments

“Lyla?”

While you’re – regrettably – unable to make good on your promise to phase through the floor, you catch yourself hoping it splits to swallow you whole instead. It certainly would be a better alternative to the purgatory you currently face.

“Lyla? Come in, Lyla.”

Feeble rays of light filter in through the weathered windows, their reach slowly growing as night surrenders to the wakings of dawn. Variegated motes bob lazily, suspended upon the streams of sun, quivering back and forth between a range of countless colours. Paralysed and splayed atop the frigid, hard ground of the empty store-lot, you try counting them all for lack of anything else to do. Pink, green, orange, gold. You wonder what force chooses the order, whether it’s sequenced to fit some plan of high design.

“¡Ay, coño–”

Slowly, you let yourself scrutinise other things, too. The scent of neglect that permeates the stale air, particularly pungent around the entryway. You trace the yellow-brown mass that runs along the door’s hinge edge, and attribute the vaguely muddy smell to rot. Then, it’s the glint of shattered glass, winking at you from lost corner’s of the room. They look narrow, far too inconvenient to clean out with a standard broom. You revel in the understanding that whoever had been in charge of scouring the wreckage appears to share your habit of quick quitting.

It’s only when your vision begins to water do you divert your attention to the situation at hand. Last you needed to blink, it took half a minute for the command to register, and even longer for the motor neurons in your eyelids to act. By the time you eventually got them closed, you’d already started contemplating whether his venom would be the death of you.

(Lame end to a lame life.)

It didn’t take a genius to figure out, though. You know that, if he wanted to, he could’ve kept imbuing you with the substance until your body was no longer able to perform the basic mechanisms necessary to sustain life. He could have kept his fangs lodged deep into your neck – encroached upon your stuttering veins, bathing in the ichor that flowed – until he felt you go limp, concentrated with his poison. It would have been a denouement to his problems – right there, easy, sandwiched between him and the wall – but it wasn’t. Because he didn’t.

Just like he didn’t let you plummet to your death that day at the quarry, or strangle you while you were unconscious back at HQ.

So, no. It doesn’t take a genius to acknowledge that Miguel O’Hara doesn’t want you dead. As he fiddles with his malfunctioning watch, you endeavour to come up with a divisive list as to why that is.

One: you’ve charmed him. The notion is almost funny enough to elicit a snort, given that you weren’t cast in an immovable anathema.

Two: he’s a good guy. Somehow, this option seems less viable to you than the first.

You find your third prospect slinging from the threads of a fraying memory.

You’d been a student, before – attending college at a reputable institute close to home. It’s easy to forget what it was like most nights: cramped in that two hundred square foot dorm, borderline losing it as you tried to validate your claims on matter-antimatter rockets and their potential contribution to interstellar travel. There were concerns of total annihilation, and sourcing, and an array of other limitations – that which you’d dedicated your academic career to drawing up proposals for. It’s laughable now; the stress and theories blurring together to form a vague picture of your long-lost ambition.

You have a hard time conjuring what exact future you were so hopeful for, but the lamp by your roommate’s bed remains clear in your mind’s eye. Warm-white, comforting. For as long as you were awake, tapping away at a never-ending thesis, she’d work through the latest volume of her beloved murder mystery anthology.

It was the night before your start at an internship with Alchemax that the series came to a close. Her aggravated screams still ring fresh behind the clouded pane of time. You had thrown your pillow at her in a belligerent plea.

(You wanna elaborate?

The suspect behind every case was shot!

So? Isn’t that a good thing?

No, dumbass. It means the detectives fucking lost! They’ll never be able to prove how right they were.)

Admittedly, you know very little about Miguel, but you have an idea of what matters most to him. It’s entirely possible, then, that he refuses to kill you for what your death would do to negate his efforts thus far.

“Oye,”

Your mental traipse is reeled in when the devil himself snaps at you. Steadily, your pupils roll up to look at him.

“I need your day pass.”

You continue to stare. His jaw clenches.

“Because of your little headbutt outside, my watch is busted. My only hope of fixing it is by using the parts of your day pass.”

Is he asking? Does he expect you to respond?

You can’t fool yourself into believing he’s that ignorant.

But Miguel stays on standby, scanning your lax form. He takes in the webs that wrap around your waist, branching out to your thighs and shoulders, restraining your arms behind your back. When his eyes meet yours again, the reluctant question you see glaze over them pushes the recognition to the forefront of your mind.

He is asking.

Or, notifying – making sure you’re aware of what he’s about to do.

God, you wish you could speak. You’ve never come up with so much to say without promptly blurting it out before. Irritation and amusement rip at one another within you, locked in a brutal dogfight fated to have no real winner. How hypocritical of him to pick and choose when your treatment takes priority over his mission; you’re littered in marks that all point to his prior negligence of such subtle humanity. Four stabs above your wrist, a pounding migraine at your temple. If it weren’t for your paralysed stomach, you’re certain you would have regurgitated your innards as consequence to the concussion he’s given you.

But, oh.

How funny would it be if you agreed. To let him discover the harrowing truth for himself.

Deliberately, you muster an affirming blink.

Miguel's weariness escapes him in a heavy sigh, the weight of it etched upon his expression. Thick brows furrow, evidence to his age creasing between them, before he sinks down with a purposeful grace and carefully flips you over. Despite the resentment that festers in your gut, you can’t help but hiss a mental sigh of relief at the service it does to your elbows, which had begun throbbing in response to the pressure that the hardwood floor exerted.

From that point onward, it becomes a guessing game of sorts; you can’t see him, nor are you able to tilt your head and confirm your assumptions as to what he’s doing. Deprived of your most reliable sense, the others strain to fill the gaps in your knowledge, drawing upon every available cue; the sound of his miniscule grunts, the warmth of his skin – that which penetrates through his gloves. You’re alarmed into attempted action when the characteristic rip of his claws equipping pierces the strained air – your body powerless in addressing the adrenaline it secretes – until the spider-man touches his forefinger to your palm.

“Relax.” He all but commands. “I’m just cutting the webs off.”

You’ve no reason to trust him, of course, but you can’t exactly pitch a complaint right now.

(Perhaps it’s in your best interests to ignore how easy he’d been able to read you.)

A few moments of jostling ensue, before he withdraws with a curse. Your arms remain ensnared in the tight restraints, the ache that smarts your skin all too real for the continued predicament to be illusory. An assortment of jokes occur to you.

Can’t get it up?

In your peripheral, you catch him weighing his options. The pause is laden with a sticky indecision – this change in placement, you realise, exacerbates the already difficult task of breathing for you.

While you fixate on that fact, he seems to come to a conclusion. With one swift manoeuvre, he positions himself astride your thighs, straddling the deadened extremities, and reaches forward to push your wrists apart. You’re quick to catch on to his intention, how the arrangement gives him better leverage, yet–

His groyne presses into the swell of your ass, worsening with every bid to sever the webbing. It’s impossible not to notice, especially not when the seam of your jeans start to shift in tandem, smoothing over your clothed core. It’s not exactly ecstasy, far from it — no rainbow blooms, tingling gold from your toes to your nose – but it’s been ages since you were last roused like this. Enough for it to feel brand new, a wrapped curse in a prim little bow, eager for all that you shouldn’t be.

And… Christ–

And then he unfastens the lines around your arms, and runs his hands up your skin. It’s not gentle, nor is it brutish, but you can feel his desperation escalating. His touches grow progressively antagonistic, kneading your palms up to your shoulders, patting down to the shallow pockets of your pants. You’re searched like you hold the key to his success – you suppose that, in some oddly comical way, you do. And it should be upsetting, blasphemous.

But you’re no sacred thing. You’d laid down that possibility a long time ago.

No. You’re foul, questionable at your best, and erupt into goosebumps over the ruthless grip of a man who hates your very soul. You’re a deeply detestable spirit, truly, but a detestable spirit who has just managed to get one up on Miguel O’Hara.

He throws you back around, wrapping his hands around your throat. His snarl is primal, maturated in acrid anger.

“Where is it?”

You’re sure that, in some alternate reality, your face is stretched in a shit-eating grin.

“Where’s the fucking day pass?”

Your satisfaction is short-lived.

You’ve never been one to notably detest humiliation. It’s productive – healthy, even – in smaller doses; a fitting consequence for those who you deem deserve it. Yet, as you find yourself unceremoniously hoisted over Miguel’s shoulder, forced into a meandering parade through the streets of New York, you breach into uncharted territory – a threshold where your tolerance encounters its breaking point.

He makes no effort to soften his strides, unmoved by the idea of providing even a shred of respite for your susceptible self. If anything, it feels as though he deliberately seeks out the harshest terrain, silently chastising your earlier defiance in the most passive aggressive manner known to man. He’d reinforced your constraints before marching out on this fruitless venture, and now you bobble uselessly, backside pointed upward, anchored solely by the meaty arm around your knees.

At least you’ve regained control of your mouth.

“D’stroyed it. Gone. Dearly d’parted–”

“If you’re going to run that little mouth, then make it helpful.”

“M’bein’ helpfoo,” you start, straining your weakened vocal cords in an effort to mock him. The grip of paralysis may have slackened its hold, but neurotransmission remains at an all time, sluggish low. In all actuality, it astounds you that he can even begin to decipher your words from the tangled murmurs they become.

“You had it on at the convenience, and a little bit afterward. You can’t expect me to believe that you dealt with it while running for your life.”

Running for your life. Sure.

Displeasure sparks at the confidence he imbues in his assumption.

“Escoos m– hnngh–” A sudden jump of stress robs you of breath, your stomach plummeting alongside the rapidly distancing ground. As Miguel propels himself above the city skyline, effortlessly evading the crowded streets via a web he’d grappled to an adjacent building, you’re confronted with a stark reality – that this is the very first time you have ever, and likely will ever, experience what it’s like to swing.

It’s exhilarating and nauseating all at once, gravity relinquishing its command as you transcend the confines of the physical, soaring through some reality where law loses significance. If it had been you, your arms and skill and jurisdiction, you’d never come down. But maybe that’s why it isn’t; maybe your life was meant to lead up to this, and only ever this.

(Not antimatter technologies or heroic conquest. Yeah, this feels more fitting.)

Your skin prickles. You phase through the sturdy frame that’s held you up so far, and plummet from its grasp.

Slicing through the boundless sky, you’re accompanied by a profound tranquillity. It isn’t absolute – fear still gnaws at your core, its presence undeniable. But, amidst the churning horror, your instincts are fainter than they ought to be. They whisper in a subdued tone, overshadowed by conflicting conceptions. One, being the inference you’d drawn earlier about how – whether you like it or not – Miguel would not let you die.

Another, quieter suspicion hints toward the full reality of your… relief.

Though, of course, you’re right about the former. Tree-trunk biceps wrap around your waist, pulling you close as he slingshots off to a nearby rooftop. You flop into him, a ragdoll to the overwhelming force of his agitation, and squeeze your eyes shut at the hints of patchouli permeating from under his mask.

You don’t have to face the gospel just yet.

“¿Qué mierda? Eh?” He shouts, propping you up against a ledge. “What the fuck was that?”

You don’t have an answer for him. Your heart lurches, catching up to the urgency at hand, striking on the hollow bars of your ribcage to some reckless tune. It’s only amplified by the torrent of blood distending through your system, throbbing at your temple, rushing by your ears.

What the fuck, indeed.

He damns you, it seems, with a fervour that breaches the heavens, as if willing God Himself to commit his plea to eternal memory. Or not; truthfully, you can’t tell. With the roar of your own snowballing thrill, it becomes impossible to discern the sequence of interrogations that explode from him. The world around you fades to the background, your preoccupancy consumed by the disquietude it leaves in its wake.

Your sense is only validated a minute later when, two blocks away, an ear-piercing shriek ruptures your dissociation.

Miguel stiffens, slowly turning to face its source.

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘕𝘖-𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘐𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘓𝘠-𝘔𝘜𝘓𝘛𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘈𝘉𝘈𝘚𝘌:

Earth-15 – analysed, marked as closed.

Spider-totem – The Spider: soon after being bit by his radioactive spider, convicted felon Peter Parker merged with Earth-15’s variation of the carnage Symbiote.

Notes – do not engage, at any cost.

chapter five →

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be alerted of future updates!

2K notes · View notes

agirlwithglam · 5 days

Text

🎀 The It Girl Lifestyle Guide 🎀

hi girlies! this guide is a part of the big series: The Ultimate It-Girlism Guide. in this mini guide i'll be including all things health, morning/nighttime routines, and more!

How to create your ideal morning / night / any other routine:

Here’s a mini step by step guide to curating a routine that works specifically for YOU, tailored to your own needs and wants. This can be for any routine u wanna create: morning, night, after school, after work, before school/ work, etc etc.

Apps / things needed:

ChatGPT (or an AI like that- it’s not completely necessary but it’s useful)

Notes app / docs app. (Or a pen and paper- this will be to write down the routine!)

Calendar app (optional tbh)

Ok so first off: decide what you want in your routine. Make a list in no particular order of what you need/ want in the routine.

Some examples:

Once you’ve created this list, you’re pretty much half way done. In this next part you can use chat GPT to make it easier, or use your own mind.

The next thing to do is: ask chatGPT to make a routine with the steps u wanted.

Make sure to mention what time your routine starts and ends. And if there’s anything you want to change, you can just ask the AI or make those changes yourself!

The last step is to write it down!

You can either write it down on the notes app, docs, on a journal/ piece of paper, anything that’s easily accessible to you. I heavily recommend writing it down somewhere, but if you dont want to you can…

Put it into your calander. This can help you be a bit more organised, but it’s not completely needed. As long as it’s written down somewhere- so you dont need to always remember it- you’re good.

Health and wellness

In this section, i will be talking about fitness, mental health and physical health. I will mention some useful tips to finally start, how to overcome procrastination, and how to take care of that area of your body.

1. FITNESS.

Numero uno: fitness! I’m not going to go yapping on about how fitness is so important- im assuming you all know that by now. But let me just remind you that staying fit is not only exercising or going to the gym everyday. It can be: running, going for a walk, playing a sport, yoga, pilates, dancing, cycling, and THE LIST GOES ON. DO anything that moves your body and gets you fit!

Here are some tips to help you get started:

Start small. Set small goals first. Set SMART goals

Choose the activities you enjoy. Like i mentioned earlier, there’s tons of ways to stay fit- cycling, running, swimming, yoga, dance, sports, etc. etc. (if you like, joining a class or working out with friends can help you stay motivated!)

Stay consistent. I know i know, this is said everywhere. But there is no progress without consistency. Even if you can’t do a whole workout one day, try and do 10 jumping jacks, or 5 pushups. Do whatever you can. Remember: 1% is better than 0.

Create a vision board. You can create one yourself, or find tons of them off Pinterest. Vision boards will make the process so much more fun and will certainly motivate you.

Set a reward system. Tell yourself: if you do this high intensity workout now, you can go to the spa later or watch tv.

Find a why. This goes for like everything tbh. If your why is big enough, you are capable of doing anything (even finding that lost book that you owe the library!) basically, are you doing this to get ripped? With tons of abs, or to get strong and impress people? Or are you doing this to boost your self esteem and improve your health?

2. FOOD & NUTRITION.

Balanced diet: eat the rainbow! Meaning- eat meals with a variety of different colours. Fruits, vegetables, proteins, carbohydrates, etc. it’s completely alright to eat a chocolate, but remember: EVERYTHING IN MODERATION.

Hydration: aim for at least 8 glasses of water a day. Trust me, drinking the magical potion that is water will help you SO much! It can help you clear your skin, have pink uncrusty lips, keep you fit and soooo much more.

Mindful eating: in the book IKIGAI it is said that you should only eat until you’re 80% full. Not 100%. Why? Because the time it takes for you to digest the food will have already made you extremely full. You may even have a stomachache. Studies also show that cutting back on calories can lead to better heart health, longevity, and weight loss.

Here are some tips to manage cravings:

Find healthier alternatives. If you are craving something sweet like chocolate, have something like a sweet fruit. If you crave something salty, try nuts. If you can’t think of any, search up some healthier alternatives to it!

Create more friction for junk, and less friction for healthy. This concept was said in the book Atomic Habits by James Clear. What does it mean? Make sure that it takes a lot of energy to get the unhealthy junk food. Maybe keep them high up in a cupboard so whenever you want it you have to go get a ladder, climb up, and then get it. And keep the healthy food in easy reach. Like some fruits open on a table, etc. (also remember to keep some actually yummy healthy food like Greek yogurt or protein bars.)

Distract yourself. Go do a workout or engage your mind in a hobby that you enjoy. Basically take your mind off food.

Yummy water. Make some lemonade for yourself. Or perhaps add slices of lemon, cucumber, mint or strawberries to it for some flavours. I’d do some research on this cus i know that some combos can rly help for things like clearing your skin, boosting energy, etc.

3. MENTAL HEALTH

Taking care of your mental health is just as important as taking care of your physical health. It affects how we think, feel and act and also determines how we handle stress, relate to others, relationships, etc.

Of course there will be ups and downs for our mental health. It’s not something that you can just fix once and it’ll be good forever. No, it’s a rollercoaster. But having a “good” mental health is really important for a successful lifestyle.

Here are some tips to help you improve your mental health:

Meditation / deep breathing. I can’t emphasise how important this is. Even 1-2 minutes a day is good. Start small. You dont even need to be sitting crossed legged for this. Whether you’re in class, on a vehicle or in a stressful situation; just breathe. Take a deep breath, and out. Do it right now.

Journalling. Write. It. Out. Writing your problems and worries out is SOO therapeutic, especially when you want to calm down. There are SO MANY benefits to journalling. But remember that once you’ve ranted on the paper, tear it, rip it, and watch it burn. (Don’t keep a journal for this unless you KNOW 150% that no ones ever gonna read it. Trust me, it’s terrifying knowing that someone’s read that.) other things you can do is create a gratitude journal, so whenever you’re feeling low you can just go to it or write in it.

Self careee!! Create time for self care in your week. Because if you do that, it’s gonna be that one thing which you’ll be looking forward to each week, which will make life SO much more fun and bearable. For me, my forms of self care are watching thewizardliz or tam Kaur, reading, watching a movie at night, etc.

POSITIVE. SELF. TALK. Need i say more? What you say to yourself, is what you believe. And what you believe reflects in your external life.

Sing your heart out to Olivia Rodrigo. I swear this is actually so calming and therapeutic. Basically: express your feelings. If you’re angry at someone, feeling grief or really hurt by someone, screaming to Olivia Rodrigo songs in my bedroom is my go-to (i just make sure not to do it when others can here hehe). You can punch your pillow, scream, cry, etc.

Remember honey: this too will pass. Repeat that over in your head. This will pass. This will pass. This will pass. I know you may be going through the toughest time ever, but this too will pass. Nothing is forever. You’ve gotten through so much worse. You’ve got this.

!! Girls, please remember that these are just some tips. I am NOT a professional. If you really feel horrible every single day, go to therapy or counselling. Also contact mental health hotlines or emergency numbers if needed.

Mkay thats it! I hope this was of some value to you, and stay tuned for the next guide in the it girl series!

294 notes · View notes

antianakin · 3 months

Note

I watched Dune: Part Two over the weekend, and I came to realize something: Anakin Skywalker has a lot in common with Paul Atreides, and none of them are good.

Funnily enough, I was also making comparisons between Dune and Star Wars when I saw it this weekend, but more positively. Not necessarily specifically between Paul and Anakin, but in the ways the two stories subverted the Chosen One storyline.

In Star Wars, Anakin is the Chosen One and it IS a good thing, but it's not INEVITABLE unless Anakin chooses it. He HAS to make the choice to be a good, balanced, selfless person in order to achieve the perfect prophecized ending. It is impossible to achieve it through brute force of will or selfish agendas.

In Dune (based purely on the story in the films, I have not read the books so I cannot speak to what the story was in there if it's different), Paul is the Chosen One by design of other mortal people around him, he is the Chosen One because they CREATED a Chosen One through specific breeding and manipulation of cultures and religions. They literally achieve their prophecized ending through brute force, Paul becomes a messiah by forcing himself to ride a sand worm, by killing and defeating the opposing forces on the planet, by using Fremen as weapons in a holy war, by drinking poison and coming out of it alive. The subversion here isn't in how the prophecized ending is achieved, but in how it was CREATED and the fact that achieving it is a BAD THING.

Anakin chooses to DEFY his destiny out of selfishness while Paul chooses to GIVE IN to his destiny out of selflessness, and then they both end up villains as a result. Both of them made their own choices, but were also manipulated onto this path by forces they couldn't control and people they should've been able to trust. They're both left feeling like they're out of choices and so the only one left is the one they KNOW is bad.

But I find myself somewhat more able to sympathize with Paul because he tries SO HARD throughout the entire film to keep this from happening, he knows exactly what's going to happen if it does, and in the end, he's just outplayed basically. He'll never be a match for the greater forces at play until he becomes one of them, and at that point he's lost in every way that matters. It's a completely lose-lose situation for Paul the way I saw it. Even with the visions, Paul has had multiple visions come true before he has the one about the holy war, and has a lot more reason to believe that it's true due to Jessica's training. And it felt like when he drank that poison that some part of Paul almost literally did die, that someone else came back to life in some ways and that's part of the whole tragedy. He's almost possessed by the powers around him by the time he declares himself Emperor.

The same is DEMONSTRABLY not true for Anakin. Anakin walks into the darkness with his eyes open and his head held high because he believes HE ALONE will benefit from it. There's no selflessness in this choice in any way shape or form. He has had ONE VISION come true that we know of before he gets the dream about Padme and the Jedi notoriously do not believe visions to be all that trustworthy to begin with, so all of his training tells him that just because ONE vision came true still doesn't mean that THIS one is true and even if it were, he can't trust that any action he takes to keep it from happening will actually have that result. But he's selfish and greedy enough to try anyway, to discard everything he's ever been taught, for power. He convinces himself that doing this makes him a hero, that murdering the Jedi, down to the last child, makes him a hero. There's no evidence that doing what he's doing will save Padme, or that Padme would even WANT him to do this to save her. He's not truly outplayed, he had all the tools at his disposal to make the better choice in that moment in Palpatine's office, he's just not a good enough person to make it. He IS a match for the greater forces at play in terms of power, he and Mace could've EASILY killed Palpatine together if only Anakin had chosen the better path. He just... chooses not to because it doesn't benefit him to do so. Anakin could've won, in every way that mattered. He only loses because he makes the stupidest choice imaginable.

Dune is a political sci fi epic about how people in power will literally create messiahs for the people they intend to subject as a way to consolidate their own power.

Star Wars is a children's cautionary tale wrapped in an space opera adventure about how letting your fears control you will bring about your own destruction, and only kindness and selflessness will save the world.

It's not exactly a secret that Lucas was inspired by Dune when coming up with Star Wars, so I find it really interesting to look at the similarities and differences in how they each approached their Chosen One storylines.

#star wars #dune #dune part two #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #paul atreides #dune spoilers #dune part two spoilers

273 notes · View notes

dragonheartstring360 · 8 months

Text

Some notes for anyone writing a character with glasses, from someone who wears glasses everyday:

- glasses need to come off before changing a shirt, unless it has a really big collar. Otherwise, glasses will get ripped off by said shirt collar.

- weather will affect how well you can see out of them, especially rain. Raindrops will dot glasses and it’s like trying to drive a car in the rain without working windshield wipers. Snow sometimes does this too, but not as bad, and lots of dust kicking up will make glasses dirty and foggy. If it’s humid enough (talking like swampy, Deep South levels, weather app says “90-100% humidity”), glasses will fog up when you step outside. If it’s crazy windy, glasses can fly off and the character should hold onto them or take them off and put them somewhere safe. They’ll usually get dirty or break in a pants pocket, so maybe have character carry around a sturdy glasses case if needed.

- not all materials are good for wiping glasses off. Some shirt materials just make it worse.

- if your character’s glasses are super dirty or smudged, they will be able to see it 24/7 as they look around and it’s annoying af.

- although glasses can keep things from getting in a character’s eyes (like something that’s been sprayed), it doesn’t protect our eyes all the time, especially if it’s coming at an angle or there’s a large amount. For that, you’d need actual safety glasses or goggles (and yes, they do make prescription goggles, but they’re not cheap).

- speaking of waves, for the love of god, DO NOT have your character swim with their glasses on. At best, they’ll get wet and they won’t be able to see. At worst, if they’re forced underwater or an ocean wave smacks them in the face, they’ll fly off and/or break.

- a crack in glasses is actually annoying af and makes it very hard to see.

- if a character’s face is wet, like from sweat or a ton of rain, their glasses will continuously slide down their nose and they’ll need to keep pushing them back up.

- lots of liquids other than water will make glasses opaque.

- glasses should be fitted pretty well to a person’s head. So if the character’s face is dry or there’s a moderate amount of wind, the “legs” that go behind their ears should be tight enough that they don’t just constantly fly off or slip down their nose. If they do, they’re too big (but obviously something a tornado will make them fly off).

- although I hate the whole “they took off their glasses and now they’re a ✨ model ✨” trope, people do tend to look very different with glasses on vs off - especially a character like Harry Potter who constantly wears their glasses. It’s not unrealistic that people who don’t know the character well (or even those who do, but just aren’t as quick) won’t recognize them at first without their glasses.

- as far as I know (correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never been able to do this), if a lens pops out of the frames, it can’t be popped back in by non-professionals without the right tools. The glasses are just done for.

- if your character has contacts in (or this is a psa for anyone who wears contacts), DO NOT have them rub their eyes. The contact will pop out and they’re very translucent and tiny, so trust me, it will just fall and be lost forever.

- being able to see clearly out of one eye and not the other (like with a broken/missing lens or a contact falling out) causes headaches.

- glasses are expensive af in the US (idk about other places). One time when I didn’t have vision insurance, an eye exam and two frames with lenses (I have blue eyes and very extreme light sensitivity, so have to have prescription sun glasses as well as regular glasses) cost over $900USD. If you want the special frames that become tinted and basically turn into sunglasses when you walk outside, it will cost extra.

- speaking of those lenses that become tinted when you walk outside, they take awhile to fade back to normal after you go back inside. Your character needs to be prepared to still be “wearing” sunglasses for the first 5-10 minutes after they walk inside.

- if a character is wearing contacts, they can wear normal sunglasses. If not, they’ll need special prescription sunglasses to be able to see. You cannot wear prescription sunglasses with contacts in or you won’t be able to see anything. Ever tried to look through your friend’s glasses and everything’s weird and warped and giving you a headache? That’s what it will look like.

- not exactly glasses related, but people with lighter colored eyes will always have worse light sensitivity than people with darker eyes. I have very blue eyes and looking up at the sky on a sunny day will literally make me see stars, and especially if I’m driving towards the sun while it’s setting, I have to have my sunglasses on or I literally will not be able to see and tears will be leaking out my eyes the whole way home.

- speaking of prescription sunglasses, unless your character can see pretty far without their glasses or they’re far sighted, you cannot just take prescription sunglasses off and still be able to see, especially while driving. You just have to deal with it and keep the sunglasses on and look like a Matrix wannabe if it gets cloudy or starts raining, or you have to do the super speedy Dance of Death where you’re still watching the road in front of you, taking off one pair of glasses and putting the other on super fast (which usually requires you to use your mouth to open and close things).

- GLASSES ARE FRAGILE. Seriously, a very petite person could sit in them and snap them in half. They’re not something you want your character just throwing around.

- there are varying levels of how well someone can see. There’s farsightedness and nearsightedness. Some people don’t have that much trouble and can see pretty far, so only wear their glasses as needed. But some people (aka moi) can genuinely only see a few inches in front of their face. Like if I ever lost my glasses or they broke, I’d be done for. I wouldn’t be able to work or drive or do anything around the house.

- glasses need to be replaced about once a year because of possible prescription changes or sometimes lenses losing their strength and becoming harder to see through. Trying to tough it out after long enough will give your character headaches/migraines and sore eyes from eye strain.

- some mascaras (especially thick ones) will smudge glasses when the character blinks. Same with false lashes (although they’ll brush instead of smudge). Usually less intense mascaras and shorter fake lash lengths are better.

- eye makeup is harder to see with glasses on.

- please, please, PLEASE stop using the whole “omg look how much prettier/more attractive they are without their glasses” trope. Not everyone’s eyes can handle contacts and some people prefer wearing their glasses. And it makes those of us who prefer glasses or have to wear them feel like shit, especially because there aren’t a lot of characters with glasses in media who don’t become the butt of a joke (ie the one wearing glasses is the “ugly duckling” for it like in princess diaries, or like Velma from scooby doo always losing them and patting around, or people who wear glasses will always be some sort of dorky/insufferable know it all).

- glasses come in all shapes, sizes, and colors and can be used to actually enhance a character’s style! Some of them even have magnetic frames that click in place over the simple pair, so have fun using glasses to build your character’s style.

- edit to add: no one ever purposely falls asleep with their glasses on. You will crush and break them when you roll around. However, if a character does accidentally fall asleep with them on, a love interest gently taking them off so they don’t wake them up and setting them on the table next to them can be a super cute moment.

- whoops thought of some more. Hair products, especially hairspray, can be a bitch to get off glasses and doesn’t always just rinse off with water. If they’re spraying anything, including dry shampoo, the glasses have gotta come off and get out of the line of fire first.

- hair can and will get caught in the little hinge by the legs and we do occasionally not notice till we take our glasses off and rip a hair out of our heads.

- be careful when you comb or brush, cuz if the glasses legs get caught in the brush or comb, it will be ripped off our face.

Hope this helps! May the writing gods bless your work 🤓

#friendly neighborhood writer #writer things #writers on tumblr #fanfiction writer #writers and poets #ao3 writer #writerscommunity #writing advice #fanfiction writing #creative writing #writing #fanfic writing #psa #glasses #characters with glasses

807 notes · View notes

euphorajeon · 6 months

Text

the love upon your eyes | jjk

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college au

— word count: 0.9k

— warnings: soft jk, llike very soft, shirtless jk, that's it haha

— summary: when your mind is cloudy with sleep, jeongguk takes the opportunity to gaze at you, lovingly.

— author's note: broo did you all see how cool jeongguk was in golden live on stage... our best friend for real... also the gcf in budapest is really boxer!gguk coded hhh i got whiplash watching it. anyways. hope you enjoy this little bit of something from boxer!gguk !!! (ps. this is basically in the sheets but with the roles reversed :> )

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

You’ve known Jeongguk for as long as you can remember. His annoying presence seemed to cement itself in your life, not allowing you to have a day without some memories of him. Jeongguk who always sang on the way home from school. Jeongguk who was there when you almost drowned when you were ten. Jeongguk who made fun of your hair in middle school. Jeongguk who had a colorful t-shirt phase in high school. Jeongguk who moved to another city for university.

It felt weird when he left, not having someone follow you around just to pester you, but eventually, it felt peaceful. You’re able to make new friends, study properly, and enjoy your time as a new university student. Jeongguk still texted you occasionally, giving you updates of his life and bantering with you whenever he wanted (when you protested, he said he’d only done that because he was bored. You’d given him the middle finger emoji which he laughed off.)

Jeongguk’s been annoying all of his life, so when he showed up at your doorstep two years after the last time you saw him, you expected nothing less. He truly didn’t change, still the same Jeongguk who brushed off your shocked concerns and responded with teasing remarks instead. So much teasing, so much tempting, until you lost it and kissed him right on his pierced lips.

All of that tells you that Jeongguk will always be annoying. Endearing, but annoying. Loving, but annoying.

So imagine how you feel when one morning, your whole world tilts on its axis when you open your eyes to Jeongguk gazing at you, lovingly. Most of his body is covered in his white blankets, only his shoulders and arms are visible, one of which is covering the bottom part of his face. You can only see his nose and eyes, again obstructed by the unruly strands of his hair, but those eyes tell everything. They tell you that Jeon Jeongguk is looking at you with all the love he has stored in his heart, without even a pinch of the annoying twinkle he usually has hidden somewhere in the flecks of his orbs.

Jeongguk lets out a chuckle through his nose when you groan.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he says, words muffled by his arm still covering his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

Your barely-open eyes narrow into slits, blurring his form in your vision into a mush of white, black, and skin color. Despite that, you know the sound he just let out is another chuckle through the nose, now even more endeared. “Who are you, and what have you done to my Jeongguk?”

It sounds sassy in your head, your usual tone when talking to your boyfriend, but you don’t know that it only sounds like a jumbled mess in Jeongguk’s ears. Your whole body is still heavy with sleep, the tiny functioning part of your brain only recognizing the love in Jeongguk’s eyes that is so peculiar until your brain fails to aid to your ability to speak clearly. You don’t have to worry, though, because the tiny laugh that rumbles through Jeongguk’s chest tells you that he understood your words perfectly.

“Why so cranky, babe?” Jeongguk reaches out a tattooed hand to pinch lightly at your cheek. “Was last night not enough?”

You’re in the middle of turning around, intending to ignore Jeongguk’s soft stare and confront it later when you’re more awake, but his question makes you pause. Focusing your crusty eyes on him, you just realize that he’s not wearing any shirt, his arms and shoulders bare for you to see. Oh, he must have been looking at you with so much love pouring out of his eyes for you to miss the tattooed bulging biceps on display. This is bad.

Okay, back to his question. Last night, he said?

Your hands automatically pat down your body, which, thankfully, is covered by a t-shirt. You even still have your pajama shorts on. What does he mean by last night?

Apparently you voiced that aloud, with confusion written all over your sleepy face.

“Alright, alright, we didn’t go all the way last night,” Jeongguk laughs—he’s really cheerful considering the time of day, you notice—while coaxing the crease between your eyebrows away with his fingers. “Made out for a while on the bed, but you kinda slipped away from the kiss in the middle of it. I guess you were too tired, so I let you sleep instead.”

You didn’t remember anything from last night. Maybe he’s right, exhaustion took over your entire body that your brain just didn’t store any memories for a few hours. So, you ask the one sensible thing your brain could conjure up right now: “Did I leave you with a hard-on?”

Your eyes are nearly closed again, so you don’t see the amused expression Jeongguk has on his face. “If I tell you yes, would you apologize for it?”

“Mhm, sorry,” you mumble non-commitally.

There’s a few seconds pause. Then, “That’s it? No snarky remarks about how you don’t have to apologize for my bodily function?” Jeongguk asks, still amused by your lack of bite.

“Mhm,” you hum again. “Wanna go back to sleep…” You’re interrupted by a big yawn, “if argument, no sleep…”

Jeongguk has to bite his lip to prevent himself from breaking into a huge grin as he reaches for you, tugging your form closer to his so you can place your head on his chest. He envelops you in his arms, completely engulfing your frame with his big build. You drape your arm lazily on his waist, let him tangle his legs with yours. Jeongguk then drops a kiss on your head, one you barely register because your brain starts succumbing back to sleep.

“Sleep tight, sleepyhead,” he whispers before smiling to himself.

“I’ll still love you even if you gave me blue balls in the middle of the night.”

a/n: thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed this little ball of fluff hehe. help me improve by giving me feedback in my askbox or here! :D

888 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 8 months

Text

I Knew You Were Trouble || Whumptober Day 4 - J. Seresin & Shy!Wifey

Whumptober Masterlist || Whumptober Taglist Form

synopsis: things hadn't been great between the two of them for some time, but she never knew there was another woman involved

@ailesswhumptober prompt: betrayal

word count: 2.2k

warnings: infidelity, cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, unhleatiy coping mechanisms, grief, heartbreak

“I didn’t know he had a wife.”

From the moment that Y/N had met Jake, she had heard the whispers. The rumor mill was anything but quiet when it came to Jake Seresin. He was the hotshot aviator with a pretty smile and a reputation for leaving a trail of broken hearts wherever he went.

Y/N had taken a gamble when it came to Jake. She knew that Jake could basically have any woman or man that he looked at. No matter how many times Jake had said it, it took Y/N a long time to really believe that she was it for him. That she could be enough and more for him.

Y/N lost count of how many Navy balls she had gone to in the past seven years of being by Jake’s side. She could remember the very first one he had ever taken her to, the one where he had met her dad for the very first time. Jake had been so scared to meet the infamous James ‘Hercules’ Parker, but it was also the night that Jake realized he couldn’t live without Y/N. Now, seven years and three kids later, the Seresins walked into the banquet hall hand in hand.

But what was supposed to be a fun first night out since the birth of their third child, Eli, quickly turned sour when Y/N overheard what she was assuming was supposed to be a private conversation.

“Did you know Commander Seresin is married?” A woman asked her friend, her voice barely above a whisper but echoing in what they assumed was a vacant restroom. Y/N froze as she had just walked into the restroom and heard her husband’s last name. She pressed her back against the wall, craning her head to hear the conversation.

“Uh yeah,” Another female scoffed, “He’s only like obsessed with his wife. . . why?”

The first female, a blonde ensign who had just started her career as a TopGun cadet, froze. Her eyes turned red as she stared at her friend in the mirror. A look of horror and guilt was written on her face.

“I didn’t know he had a wife.”

The second female gasped, her eyes wide as she looked at her friend through the mirror, “How could you not know!?"

"I didn't know."

It was as if the air had been sucked right out of the room as the blonde started crying over her admission. Y/N felt bile rising in her throat as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She placed a hand on her racing heart, walking backward until her back hit the restroom door. Spots clouded her vision as she turned and fumbled to get the door open, trying to escape as quickly as she could.

“I didn’t know he had a wife.”

The words felt like daggers to her chest, as her head started to swim. She wasn’t sure where she was going, or where her body was leading her. All she knew was that she needed air. She needed to get away from the crowd, from the stares. She felt as though all eyes were on her as she cut through the crowded ballroom towards the exit on the other side.

Did other people know? Of course, they had to know. Everyone knew everything when it came to Jake “Hangman” Seresin. Was that why a whole table of young lieutenants were staring at her? Mocking her? Laughing at her?

Those five words replayed over and over in her head, as her brain conjured up the worst images it could imagine. Her loving husband, and that gorgeous blonde woman with perfect tits and a perfect body. Y/N couldn’t but wonder; did he hold her the same way he holds her? Did he say the same things as her? Did he touch her the same way? Her throat felt like it was about to close as she nearly reached the exit. She pressed her hand against the door, feeling the rush of fresh air enter.

“Oh! There she is!”

Y/N felt a hand wrap around her arm, stopping her in her trance. The hand pulled her back, making the door shut and closing off her chance at escaping. Y/N looked away from the door to see her husband’s dazzling smile.

A smile that usually made her feel warm and safe, now made her feel nothing but red-hot anger, “Gentlemen, this is my beautiful wife, Y/N.”

Jake wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist, holding her close to him. Normally, the gesture made her feel calm. Although she had gained a lot of confidence in the past half-decade, she still had some insecurities. It made her nervous to meet new people, especially people who had the power to make or break her husband’s career. But standing next to him, after hearing the confession in the restroom, all Y/N wanted to do was cry. She wanted to push his arm off of her and run out the door. But she knew better than to do that. She had watched her mother for years play the doting wife to the Naval Admiral, and she had followed right in her footsteps.

Y/N rolled her shoulders back, taking a sip of air to push the nausea down, and put a bright smile on her face. She held her hand out and greeted the Admirals in front of her. She nodded her head and listened to them sing the praises of her husband. Jake does his usual bit where he tells them to stop flattering him, that they are making him blush, which gets a loud roar of laughter.

Y/N looked at her husband, who had his Old Hollywood movie star smile on his face. He was clad in his white full-dress uniform. Gold medals shined to perfection. The ribbon rack is put neatly and carefully together. Not a single piece of blonde hair was out of place. It made Y/N feel sick.

“Well, we’ll let you two enjoy the rest of your night,” One of the admirals said, giving you a wink, “Don’t get too crazy. . . We just got this one back from paternity leave.”

“Don’t have to worry about that happening again,” Y/N said quickly. Jake furrowed his brows and looked at her. She’s never said something like that before. Y/N gulped, glancing quickly down at her shoes before back up at the admiral, “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” The admiral nodded and walked away with the rest of them.

Jake was silent for a moment before he turned to face his wife, a concerned look on his face, “Are you alright-”

“She didn’t know you had a wife,” Y/N said, looking Jake right in the eye. Jake felt his heart pounding in his chest as he looked back at his wife. Y/N hated fighting, she had confrontations. Whenever they argued, it usually led to her breaking down in tears. But, there was not a single tear in her eye as she stared Jake down.

Jake opened and shut his jaw a couple of times. His head was swimming for the right words to say to her, but he was coming up with nothing. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her towards the doors. Y/N silently agreed and followed him. Jake gathered Y/N’s coat and the keys to their car. The tension was thick between them as she slid the coat on her arms and followed Jake to the car.

The ride home was silent as their minds were running a mile a minute. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the world outside while Jake was white-knuckling the steering wheel. He was thinking how the hell she found out and Y/N was thinking how the hell this happened.

Sure, things hadn’t been perfect between them. Losing a baby affects even the strongest of couples. But they were Jake and Y/N. They got through things like this and came out stronger on the other end. They didn’t let little things like rumors and gossip ruin what they had.

But this was different. This wasn’t just rumors or gossip.

Y/N couldn’t help but let her mind wonder again. She closed her eyes tightly trying to will the images of her husband and another woman away from her brain but it was no use. She wondered if he thought about her. If he had thought of his vows. If he had taken his ring off. What had he said to that blonde to get her into bed? Jake was a charming man, Y/N could remember the first time they met and how giddy she had felt. She wondered if that woman felt the same thing.

“Stop the car,” Stop the car,” Y/N mumbled, holding her first to her mouth. The thoughts plaguing her mind made her feel sick to her stomach, “Pull over,” She sucked in a breath of air, trying to keep herself from gagging.

Jake looked over at her, “What?”

“Pull the damn car over!”

Jake complied, pulling off to the side of the road. Y/N hardly waited a beat once the car was in park, to throw the door open and get it out. She stumbled a couple of steps towards the back of the car, before bracing her hand on the side and vomiting up her dinner. Jake cursed as he put the hazards on and got out of the car. He quickly made his way to her, reaching to pull her hair back.

“Don’t touch me!” Y/N snapped, pushing his hand away from her. She took a couple of paces away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Tears were now streaming down her face as she stood on the shoulder of the road, “Why?” She turned to face Jake, “Why did you do it?”

“Sweetheart, please, let’s get back in the car and we can discuss at-”

“No!” Y/N yelled, “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to try and coerce me into dropping this and moving on. . . You cheated on me?”

Jake moved forward, but Y/N took the same distance back, “It meant nothing-”

Y/N laughed and shook her head, “That’s supposed to make me feel better? You having a meaningless hookup with some ensign is supposed to just magically make things alright? Cause it doesn’t, Jake. It doesn’t!”

“It was an accident! I didn’t mean for it-”

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Your dick doesn’t just slip into someone on-”

“We lost a baby!” Jake yelled. Y/N snapped her head towards him, a bewildered expression on his face. Jake hardly ever mentioned the miscarriage that they had suffered before conceiving Eli. He had gotten a bit teary-eyed about it, but other than that, he had been the rock that the family needed during that time.

“What does that have to do-”

“You acted like it was no big deal. Y-You just brushed it off after a couple of weeks and wanted to start trying again. And then you got pregnant and it was like that baby never mattered. You didn’t seem to care when the rose bush in the backyard died. You just… you basically forgot.”

“I forgot?” Y/N whispered, “I? Me? The one who lost the baby. The one whose only job was to house and protect and grow the baby, forgot that I lost them?”

“I just-“

“That moment haunts me all the time,” Y/N clenched her jaw, “I hear that silence all the time and it’s so fucking loud.”

“Well,” Jake shifted on his feet, “Ya know what. . . I felt like you were using me! All you wanted to do was get pregnant right after we lost the baby! There was no love, there was no relationship.”

Y/N scoffed, “And that's your reasoning for cheating on me,” You shook your head, "You weren't the only one feeling the lack of love. You hardly touched me unless I was begging you to. You were pushing me away."

“I needed you and you weren’t-”

“And you don’t think that I needed you?” Y/N’s voice broke, “I was holding myself together with tape and glue while taking care of our children and mourning the loss of a baby I will never get to know, and grow another one. I was terrified! I was scared to move! To breathe! Every single appointment I was scared to go to! And you were too busy burying your cock into a twenty-something-year-old to notice!”

“You didn’t tell me!” Jake yelled back.

“I shouldn’t have to. I am your wife! And you are my husband. You should be loyal to me and only me. You should have confided in me about your feelings, but instead, you confided your dick into someone else.”

“It wasn’t even sex,” Jake mumbled.

Y/N burst out laughing. She ran her hands through her hair and tugged at the roots, “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

Jake just shrugged.

Y/N shook her head, and looked down at her feet, “I-I can’t do this tonight.” She brushed past Jake, getting into the car and settling back in her seat.

Jake let out a sigh, tilting his head back and looking up at the sky. He prayed for anything to come down and take him out, just so he didn’t have to look into the eyes of the woman he loved. The woman who he broke.

whumptober taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @xoxabs88xox @cassiemitchell @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @oldermenaremyreligion @ohtobeleah

585 notes · View notes

ordowrites · 2 months

Text

Of Archery and Apples

cw: smut, slow burn, arranged marriage, afab reader, minors dni, mdni. reader is mentioned to have an abusive family, but nothing shown. fluff, gentle sex, not sfw. diluc frequently asking for consent. reader has a vision. please let me know if i'm missing a warning!

word count: 6,509

notes: this is a pretty long slow burn and build up, so be warned!! this is also unbeta'ed. this also gets pretty fluffy at the end.

diluc birthday month!!

He's avoiding you, you can say this for certain - he was barely present at your wedding ceremony, only staying until it was socially acceptable to hurry off, politely engaging in conversation here and there, and his kiss was simply a quick peck on the lips. Of course, the vows were very basic and quick but you figured it's because he's not exactly the best at words.

The business man being terrible at social engagement is quite the entertaining thought, or well, you would normally think so if this wasn't you trying to navigate this new marriage. You'd known Diluc Ragnvindr in your childhood, the two of you had exchanged a whole handful of words but you remember very clearly how social he'd been back then. You remember him, very clearly, sneaking some living frogs into a maid's pockets at some social event with his adoptive brother glued to his side. And you also remember how much chaos it had caused - expensive red wine being spilled, some screams, and you - little old you - had managed to sneak a sip of wine amidst it all. His father, Crepus Ragnvindr, had to pull both his sons aside, while apologizing profusely and Diluc sobbing his eyes out over getting caught.

The other few times you remember of him was when he'd been in the Knights of Favonious - chivalrous, well loved, everyone talked about him with pride in their voices. "Mondstadt's Pride and Joy'', is what they'd call him - he was sure to take the Grandmaster's job once Varka grew too old for his position and nobody would fight nor question it.

You two had talked during that time, exchanging names and he'd given you some flowers because you'd looked lonely and "everyone deserves flowers!" You'd thanked him, albeit very shyly, avoiding eye contact because the heir of the biggest name in Mondstadt was paying attention to you. (And you barely remember what made you so sad, though you're sure it had to do with one of your fathers outbursts.) A small part of you wonders if he remembers that.

The reasoning for your arranged marriage with him is not lost on you - Ragnvindr is a household anyone would want to be part of, the Young Master was the most eligible and the promise was made between your father and Crepus a long time ago. The two, from what you understand, had been close friends in their youth and worked closely with one another, even if you - personally - never met his sons. Of course, once Crepus had passed - a few months before your own eighteenth birthday - you figured that the arrangement was done and over with, and your mother would cart you off with some older man in another country.

Except, that wasn't the case - three years later and you received an invitation from the Dawn Winery. Diluc was still keeping up his fathers promise, but the two of you hadn't even seen each other in adulthood. And your first meeting after that was uncomfortable and awkward - he'd done his engagement with you, but it was clear that he had no idea how to navigate any of this. (Not like you did, either).

The wedding still happened - you'd begged for it to be small, but your mother does not do things small. And Diluc merely wanted it to be done and over with, and you'd spent your entire wedding day apologizing profusely and him reassuring you that he doesn't really care, the mora doesn't matter.

And now, four months into the marriage, you're still trying to even get a glimpse of your elusive and quiet husband. The two of you don't even share a bedroom, and you often find yourself in a confused haze, wandering around the Winery and vineyard with very little to do. A good wife stays at home, cooks and cleans, but you can't do that because he has maids doing that and they shoo you off if you even try to help. Your embroidery skills have a lot left to be desired and whenever you offer assistance in the vineyard, you're told not to worry about it.

Boredom left you asking the head maid for something to do and Adelinde had given you a few tasks to do, you just had to organize things and that was about it. The manor is well staffed, there isn't much work for you to do, is what she'd told you. Perhaps Master Diluc would like your company.

Oh yes, your dear, beloved husband who seems to be avoiding you. Archons, you'd much rather be working for the Adventurer's Guild. You're proficient in archery because you had begged your mother into letting you learn, it was the only way she could get you to do anything else she'd wanted. Of course, being someone of nobility means that your only job is to be a dutiful spouse who bears children and stays at home, but you're going insane.

What most people don't know about the manor is that he does have a small weapons collection - some swords, a few bows and arrows, his great sword, and other things. You're not sure why he needs this armory, but you'd happened upon it one day in your usual afternoon hauntings of the hallway when staff locked you out of the busier places they'd be. (Of course, you'd be more than happy to receive guests but apparently, that's the Head Maid's job and you feel slightly insulted your husband can't even trust you with the business of the Winery)

With the bow and a few arrows in hand, you meander outside - unnoticed by the staff as they rush around for one reason or another (rumors have it that the Traveler is visiting today or someone equally important) - and find a secluded spot to start shooting.

Place the arrow, draw the string, shoot. Repeat.

You're, by no means, an expert but you like to think you're pretty good. You knock down quite a few apples, but you never aim for animals - you repeat this until your fingers are sore and hurting. Still, you load up the arrow again, point, and -

"What are you doing?"

The voice cuts your concentration and you let out a yelp of surprise, releasing the arrow in a loose and awkward manner.

"Archons! I could have shot you!" You shout as you turn to look at the person who broke your concentration. It takes you a few moments to realize who had approached you, arms crossed over his chest, and an unimpressed look on his face. "Oh, sorry, Master Diluc. I thought you were someone else."

"I didn't know you do archery." He says, hardly acknowledging your words as he steps closer. "You're pretty good."

"Of course I am," you boast. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He considers his words and you frown at him, as if daring him to say anything untoward and awful. "Not a lot of nobles take it upon themselves to become proficient in weaponry," he finally answers. You're pretty sure he's spoken to you more now than he ever has in the entire time you've known each other. "Anyways, Add- Adelinde was calling for you. It's time for dinner."

"Will you be joining?" You ask as you pick up what fallen arrows you could, frowning when you realized that there's no way you could re-use them. At least you have yourself a handful of apples. "Or will you be assisting the Traveler with some things?"

"Ah - well," Diluc seems to be stumbling over his words now. It's as if he's remembering he's married to you, and you're not some familiar stranger who has decided to hunker down in his home. "If I have your okay, I would certainly like to join you for dinner."

You're handing him the apples, and he's taking them into his arms without question. You wonder if you could get away with just...handing him things and if he'd noticed. Because his eyes are trained away from you, at the horizon. His face is a tiny bit red.

"Are you not the master of the house and my husband?" You prompt. "Why would you seek permission to have dinner in your own home, with your own spouse?"

He opens his mouth to say something and closes it again. He doesn't know how to talk to you, you realize.

"What are all these for?" Diluc asks, awkwardly changing the subject.

"You eat them." You answer, as if he doesn't comprehend what apples are for. "Obviously."

He makes a noise that sounds like an annoyed growl but seems to drop the subject as he is a good husband and carries the dozen apples back, just for you.

Dinner is quiet - he's been joining you for dinner nightly now, and every time, it's just quiet. The soft clinking of silverware, and he keeps his head down as if it's hard to look at you. Sometimes, Adelinde whispers something in his ear and he'd have to look up, but not at you.

You think this is worse than eating by yourself. And he's always quick to leave once he's finished, thanking Adelinde and uncomfortably wishing you a good night.

One thing you noticed now, is that you're not without apples since that day. And there's more arrows stocked in his armory.

"Master Diluc thinks they're your favorite fruit," Adelinde explains as you ask her one day. "He ordered quite a bit. I think it's a bit too much for one person to eat, and I can only use them for so many recipes."

"Rumors have it that the Anemo Archon loves apples," you tell her. "Leave 'em out as an offering."

The head maid laughs a bit. "Perhaps. I'm not sure why he won't ask you about the things you do like."

"He'd learn things about me - and I, about him - if he stayed longer than the thirty minutes it takes him to finish his dinner." You say as you inspect one of the red fruits. Bruiseless, perfect, round. And juicy, when you bite into it. (You're sick of snacking on them, but hey, he bought them so you might as well make sure they don't waste away) "I timed him one night." You clarify after a moment.

"Yes, well, the Master is a very busy man." Adelinde says, after a moment. You're unsure if she's displeased with your comments about him - the staff is very loyal to Diluc. Of course they would be, he’s their employer and he treats them way better than most people of his status. You’re pretty sure he pays them pretty well on top of that - considering the servant houses are well constructed and well kept. "It cannot be helped."

"Sure," you simply agree, not wanting to anger the one that is in charge of quite...literally everything in the household that Diluc doesn't oversee. "But perhaps he could make time in his busy schedule for me?"

"One could only hope." Adelinde says. "Perhaps you'd like to entertain yourself with other means?" It's a polite way of kicking you out of her kitchen.

You grab an extra apple and head out. Diluc is in his study - you're surprised that he's stationed himself there. You're even more surprised when he looks up at you.

"You missed breakfast and lunch." you say, after a long stretch of silence. A small part of you wonders if you'd be having children right now if you had a husband who actually wanted to be at your side, instead of carrying an apple in your hand. "Have you eaten?"

Diluc regards you for a moment, before glancing at the small plate with crumbs of some confectionery on it and an empty tea cup.

"...At some point." he says as he looks back down at his papers.

You set the uneaten apple down on his desk.

"We apparently have an overabundance of apples," you inform him with a small smile. "Do your part and eat some then."

Diluc stares at it as if he's never seen an apple before. "Right," he says, after a moment. "Right. Yes. Thank you." The way he says your name sounds lovely but strange, like he's sounding it out. "There's a target range outside."

You quirk a brow and head out.

The target range is simple - it resembles something the Hilichurls would use, but you can at least practice your aim.

Your evening goes quietly - Diluc joins you for dinner again. Tonight it's your favorite meal.

"How come you don't go to Mondstadt anymore?"

Huh? You look at him with surprise.

"Well, I guess...I don't know. Most of my friends are married and have kids or like, moved." Because if you saw your parents, you might cry is the real answer.

"The maids tell me you're bored." You're likely to become the tale of a poltergeist haunting the Ragvnidr mansion, a tale for the children to tell for ages to come. "You can get a job in the city if you'd like. Come work at the Angel's Share."

"With you?"

His face tinges red and he clears his throat. "Maybe."

"How 'bout the Cat's Tail?"

A silence. A grumble.

"If you must." Diluc sounds resigned at the thought - you, however, find yourself wanting to work with the cats at that cute tavern but you wouldn’t actually do that to Diluc, regardless of the current standing you’re both in. You’re not even sure what kind of work you want to do, but bar work doesn’t sound all that great for you (or a match). You decide to let him think you’re willing to work with the competition.

It's in the middle of the night when you're woken up to something - a sound. You've always been a light sleeper and the Manor is always so silent at this hour. There's some shifting, you let out a breath when you feel a familiar but comforting sense of energy around you.

When you fully wake up, you're met with your Vision at your bedside. It flows with familiarity, glowing when you touch it. The Electrical element gives you more energy than you thought you’d ever imagine-

You'd received it in your teens and your mother confiscated it from you. She claimed you had no need for it - someone like you does not deserve it. After all, Visions are only for people who are worthy and who are you to believe you're worthy of such a blessing?

How?

You wonder if Adelinde had quietly dropped it off or if -

Would he? Diluc? The man who can barely stand being in the same room as you? Hardly. Maybe an Archon chose to give it back to you.

With energy that you haven't had in ages, you dress and head down for breakfast. Diluc is there.

"Good morning," he says, barely glancing at you. His face is tinged red again.

"What a lovely surprise," you say. "Truly blessed by the Archons today to see my husband."

He makes a soft 'hmph' sound. "Were you not complaining about never seeing me?"

"I'm glad you came."

Diluc gives no answer.

He heads to Mondstadt Proper, offering you a chance to come along - but you decline. You'd rather practice what you were blessed with. Also, you’re not really up for seeing anybody you know at the moment - you’d rather not field questions on what it’s like to be married to the Diluc Ragnvinidr. Sure, it’s bragging rights but neither of you even share a bed and barely speak to one another as is.

He is back by lunch.

And you are a bit singed - bruised but energetic from practicing with your Electro Vision. It glows at your side.

Diluc looks pleased.

"You seem happier these days." Adelinde says as you enter the kitchen for your daily snack of the never ending abundance of apples. They even taste sweeter. "Have you told the Master to stop ordering these apples for you?"

"I prefer that they become part of our nightmares," you answer her with a small shrug. Adelinde gives you an odd look. "'sides, they're an alright snack."

You snag one extra one and bid her a quick goodbye as you head to Diluc's office. As before, you set the apple down for him to eat.

This time, you stay.

"Is there something you need?"

"Thank you."

"Whatever for?"

So, you gesture to the Vision that hangs at your side. “If you brought this to me, thank you.” Diluc peeks at it and says nothing. “The apples too, but the maids seem displeased with those.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Am I bothering you?”

“No.” he answers, tensely. “I’m just…don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Silence falls over you, and you look everywhere but at him as he pointedly stares at his desk. “Um-”

“So why are you ordering an over abundance of apples?”

“Do you not like them? I can order something else. Sunseittas, those fruits from Fontaine, anything-”

“N-no, they’re fine.” You force out, interrupting him before Diluc works himself into some sort of anxiety induced panic attack. “They’re perfect, thank you.” You need to learn to put your foot down, but you didn’t want to accidentally upset him and think you hated how kind he was, even if the apples were a bit much. Hopefully Adelinde will talk to him instead.

–

It's been a week since the two of you have last exchanged any sort of conversation or words - the schedule went back to relatively normal. He’s there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner now - sometimes, there’s an uncomfortable invitation for tea and no conversation to flow with it. You find yourself wondering if Diluc even knows what he wants at this point, even when you try to better engage with him, he seems to barely meet your eyes this days and barely responds so you tend to dominate the conversation.

“Is something wrong, Diluc?” you finally ask, during afternoon tea, one day. He’d barely touched his own tea and his eyes lowered with shame on his beautiful face. “Did something happen?”

“No,” he says, after a moment and clears his throat. “My apologies, I was daydreaming, that’s all.”

“About me?” You tease, unable to help the fact you noticed how he looked at you earlier - with this strange look of longing and hunger. But he always acts as if there is a barrier between the two of one, and if he broke that barrier…of what might happen afterwards. You have to swallow a giggle when his face goes redder and he looks away. “Wait - really?”

“M-my apologies. It seems I have some important matters to get to.”

Now it’s your turn to be red faced and shying away - watching as Diluc walks away before you can muster up the bravery to call out to him to come back.

What a great start to your marriage, you think sarcastically as you wander the halls again - confused as to what to do. It’s been what, two months? Since the two of you got married now. Something like that, and what looked like behavior starting to change for the better, was now becoming a problem again. You let out a heavy sigh and sit down on a bench in the garden, burying your face in your hands. Maybe this marriage really is a sham - maybe you could get a divorce, no harm, no foul. Nobody would blame you for that, right? Or him.

You do not go down for dinner that night - feeling way too humiliated over what had happened between the two of you. It takes a week to be brave enough to be in the same vicinity as him, or well, you would be but your husband isn’t anywhere to be seen. With a sigh, you decide to venture out on your own for a while, armed with the wooden bow that’s intended more for practice than actual self defense and some arrows. It isn’t like there are any hilichurls or treasure hoarders who linger nearby or even in the vicinity of the Dawn Winery.

As you wander along the shore of the riverbank behind the Winery, you find yourself lost in your own thoughts - puzzling together the enigma that is your husband. He avoids you sometimes, and a lot of the time, doesn’t seem to know what to do with you, as if he’s surprised you’re there whenever he sees you. You know you can be pretty shy, but this man takes it to another level. You know Diluc had suffered a tragic loss or two, and you know he can be pretty closed off and rough around the edges, but this feels just ridiculous.

You pluck flowers as you go along - Calla Lily’s, Lamp Grass, really, whatever catches your eye. You figure you could spruce up your room some with decorations, now that it’s been bare for close to five months. It’s not as if you’re forbidden from decorating, it’s just that you haven’t felt like it just in case something happened within your marriage that would ruin that time and effort.

When dusk hits the horizon, you finally force yourself to trek back to the manor, flowers in one hand, your makeshift weapon in the other. As the manor appears in your sights, you decide you won’t go inside just yet - though you’re sure everyone is worried about your disappearance, you don’t particularly care right now.

Diluc is sitting on a stone bench in the garden, his eyes downcast and a small frown on his face and you stop dead in your tracks. You can’t help but think of how beautiful he looks with the sun setting behind him, casting soft hues on his face, his red hair down and waving with the soft winds. Beautiful but sad.

“Hey.” you greet, finally catching his attention.

“Where have you been?” he asks, quickly getting to his feet. “You left and you didn’t say anything to anyone, I thought you were hurt!”

“Sorry, Master Diluc,” you say, sheepishly. “I just went for a walk and lost track of time.” Diluc reaches out, as if he wants to touch you and hug you but withdraws just as quickly. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I should have said something.”

You hold the flowers you had plucked from your impromptu adventure.

“Some flowers because everyone deserves flowers.” You echo something from the past and his beautiful red eyes widen for a moment. “Remember? You said that to me once. So here, some flowers because I think you need some.”

Tentatively, he reaches out, accepting them from your outstretched hand. Your face, you realize, is red and not because it’s sunburned.

“Thank you.” he murmurs. You remember, once, that Adelinde had mentioned he likes Lamp Grass.

–

Diluc puts any flowers you give him in vases that sit in the best spots in the manor - you’d found that he really likes to receive them as gifts, so you go out of your way to find them out in the wild and present them to him like a dog presenting the fruits of its hunt. He always looks much happier when he receives these flowers, and the manor looks a bit better too - the artwork, you always thought was a bit bleak (but never said anything because apparently Master Crepus painted some of them) and the whole place just needs more color.

He stays around now, to talk to you or to be around you even if neither of you talk. It feels normal, like what a normal, married couple would do. But maybe the two of you just aren’t normal - he most certainly isn’t.

Sometimes, Diluc leaves for the city in the evenings and always says that it’s a night shift at the tavern so Charles can have a night off or two. You don’t think much of it, so long as you can actually see your husband more frequently, he still has his job to do.

It’s late, and you haven’t even considered going to bed yet - despite having taken a bath and switching into a nightgown because summer nights in Mondstadt are hot and you’re a bit too absorbed into the book you’d been reading since after dinner time. So, you’re slung on the couch, with a blanket on your lap and legs (sliding off, of course) as you get more and more engrossed in the mystery romance that you’d found in Diluc’s library. The downpour of the rain outside only adds to the ambience and it makes you quite sleepy.

Neither of you were sure when the Master of the house was going to be home, so when it came close to midnight, you insisted that Adelinde head to bed. You’re Diluc’s spouse, after all, you can greet him and take care of him when he gets home. There was a moment where the head maid looked like she was going to argue this with you, but she’d decided against it. It’s about two in the morning when you’re falling asleep, half slipping off the couch yourself when you hear the front door open a bit louder than usual. This startles you from your sleep, and you get up, making your way to see who has the audacity and the bravery to try to break into the manor.

“Diluc?!” you gasp as you rush forward, trying to quell the Electro energy that had been surging in you, ready to attack. He looks like a pathetic wet cat at this moment, hair sopping wet and sticking to his face, clothes just as drenched, his clothes askew and torn, he smells a bit burned. “Are you okay?” Your arm is already snaking around him, and he can’t even look at you. “Archons, you’re warm. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs and in bed.”

“I’m -” he stutters out. Clears his throat. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” You answer, a bit more snappishly than intended. He doesn’t fight you as you help him up the winding staircase and down the hall - into the master bedroom. “What happened?”

“I got caught in the downpour is all.” he says, still unable to meet your gaze. You’re already working to unbutton his shirt to make sure he isn’t injured anywhere that you can’t see. There’s a few bruises and welts forming on his body. “H-hey, I said I’m fine.”

“Why won’t you let me help you?” You ask, pulling away - feeling more hurt and exasperated than you think you should be. “Diluc, I’m your wife and you won’t even look at me.” Despite your words, he’s doing his best to look everywhere but at you. “Diluc, look at me.”

Carefully, he lifts his gaze to yours - his eyes are so enticing. His face is a little bit red, and you think you catch his eyes drifting downward for a moment before meeting your own eyes again.

“What happened?” You prompt.

“I got caught in the downpour.” Diluc answers, simply. “There was a - there was a treasure hoarder lurking outside of Mondstadt’s walls.”

“You got into a fight?”

“Yes, but I’m fine. They aren’t worth much energy or attention.” You sigh and rub your forehead. “It’s just a little bit of rain, I’m honestly more lucky you didn’t try to electrocute me.” It’s an attempt at a joke, one where he’s forcing a smile but you can’t bring yourself to return it. “I…I don’t know what you want me to say or do.”

“As long as you’re okay.” you tell him, finally resigned. “It’s late, we both should go to bed. Um…Adelinde will lose her mind tomorrow when she sees you tracked mud on her clean floors but I’ll take the blame for that.” You bid him a quick good night, turning to leave him to his own devices if he doesn’t actually need your help.

“Hey, wait.” His voice is slightly strained. Your hand is on the brass knob and you look over at him, watching as he gets up and takes a few strides towards you. Before you could ask what he needs, his lips brush up against yours for a brief moment. The kiss is soft and he breaks away after a moment, his thumb caressing your cheek. You tilt your head to the side, trying to comprehend what he just did. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I should have asked.”

“So ask.” You whisper, feeling oddly cheeky.

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as he does so. He clears his throat, a nervous habit of his. “Then, may I kiss you again?”

“Yes.” You murmur and he pulls you in for another kiss, this time more certain - needier. You find yourself melting into his touch, leaning against him as the two of you make it back to his bed. Clothes start to scatter around, his skin is weirdly dry to the touch (and you attribute it to his Pyro vision) but lovely anyways. There’s scars all over his body, your eyes rake over the muscle and old injuries, you start to ask him what happened but he stops you with another searing kiss. Tongue in mouth, teeth nipping at your lips. Soon, those lips, that hot mouth, find their way to your neck - biting and sucking.

But he always stops short of going down further, looking at you with hunger, looking unhinged with those red eyes and wild red hair and the soft glow of the candlelight. Your body aches with need.

“I wish to touch you.” he whispers.

“So touch me.” you breathe. That seems to be all he needs for him to remove those damn gloves, tossing them to the side. Teeth graze at a nipple, making you gasp and arch as his hand teases your other nipple. Lips move down further and further, searing kisses with soft bites that follow, and he tries to get every inch of your skin.

“So beautiful,” he breathes and gently bites your hip bone. Diluc kisses the area above your pubic bone, before moving to kiss along your thighs - teeth digging in deeper and he stops his ministrations right before hitting the spot you want him to focus on. Your eyes lock together. Your heart skips a beat when he bends down and presses his lips against your clit, tenderly kissing at your wet cunt and you gasp. His tongue pokes out, giving your slit a curious lick before diving right in.

His lips and tongue work at you as if he were a starving man - the noises that escape you are lewd and embarrassing as he licks and sucks, a finger slowly working at your entrance. You gasp when he presses a finger inside of you - it’s bigger and thicker than your own, and you can’t help but squirm at the intrusion. Much to your dismay, he pulls away from your soaking cunt to look up at you, his face a mess.

“Are you okay?” his voice is raspy and he’s definitely drunk on your pussy. His face is about as red as his hair at this point, he’s panting slightly and oh, he looks more like a demon of temptation than anything sweet or angelic. Want is etched on every bit of his features and your slick shines on his lips.

“Just - ah - unused to the feeling.”

“Mm,” he gives your clit a lick and you gasp, tightening around the appendage that gently presses in a bit further. “Tell me if I hurt you.” At your nod, he dives right back in - and he slowly adds in another finger and you whine, your fingers finding perch in his soft, but soaked hair. He pays that no mind as he starts to move his fingers in and out, slowly stretching you until he curves them upwards and - oh. You see stars.

“Diluc!” You moan out, grinding against him now. “Fuck.” You’re pretty sure he’s probably grinning to himself. He continues to eat you out and fuck you with his fingers until you’ve ridden out your orgasm, and are more of a mess of noises and moans, fingers pulling at his hair.

He pulls away soon enough, and you stare up at him with slight disappointment - your body trembling from your orgasm and the cold air that hits your heated skin. Diluc trails his fingers along your torso, playing with your breasts for a few moments.

“You’re perfect like this.” Diluc murmurs. Unable to properly formulate a reply, all you can do is reach to meet his hands for a brief moment until you find him gripping one of your legs and under your waist, pulling you flush close to him. “Remember to tell me if I hurt you too much.” You nod, watching him give his cock a few pumps, some pre-cum shining at the tip and you can’t help but feel a sense of nervousness. Sure, you’ve had sex with a partner or two before but that still doesn’t alleviate the anticipation or worry, considering his size. “We don’t have to do this.” He tells you, softly.

“I want to.” You murmur. He guides himself to your slick entrance, gently teasing your folds with the head of his cock for a moment, watching in delight as your eyes close and you push yourself closer, trying to encourage him. Once his head penetrates, you can’t help but reach to grip his arm. He shifts, gently pushing himself in, inch by inch, and your hands finally find each other. Soon enough, Diluc’s bottomed out - your legs on either side of his waist as his hands hold yours down on the bed. And oh, you feel so full - stretched out on his cock.

He stays still for a few minutes, peppering your face and neck with kisses as he whispers words of affirmation - before slowly pulling out and pushing back in. He keeps a slow pace at first, watching your face and kissing you whenever you look like you’re about to cry out.

“So wet for me,” he breathes against your ear. “So good for me.” And those words go straight to your cunt, clenching around him. “Look at you, so needy for me.” Archons, you wonder what else you can get him so say in that tone. Maybe even filthier things.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you cling as he continues to fuck you - your second orgasm hitting you as hard as your first, this time you let out a shrill sound and a sob, your nails digging into his back. You think you hear him let out a hiss at that, but you don’t care as you dig your teeth into his shoulder to try to muffle your cries. There’s a taste of copper in your mouth so you let go, giving the bite wound an apologetic kiss.

“Mine.” he groans out, pace quickening. “Ah - I’m gonna -” His thrusts become harder, deeper and your legs lock around his waist as he bites and sucks at your throat, leaving hickies in his wake. He groans as he cums, his pace slowing down to shallow thrusts - the wet noises filling the air. Your muscles feel weak as your legs slowly free him, his cock finally slipping out - followed by a mess of his cum. Your arms fall away as well and much like before, his hands find yours as he kisses you, deeply. He shifts a bit so he isn’t caging you.

The kiss breaks, a string of saliva hangs between both your lips and he looks at you with want - like he could easily go another round.

“We should get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, shifting to get up. “Do you need anything?” You reach out, catching his arm before he can actually get up and off the bed.

“Just…lay with me for a while.” Diluc looks at the mess you both made - or well, mostly him - with a sheepish and slightly ashamed look but he lays down next to you. “I just want to be next to you.”

“Okay,” he murmurs and nuzzles the crown of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He’s silent for a moment and you open your eyes. “Diluc, for what?”

“Avoiding you.” There’s some shame in his voice. “I-you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you but couldn’t have you.”

“And why not?” you prompt as you sit up. “We’re married, aren’t we?”

“Well yes but -” he pauses for a moment, as if thinking. “I figured you hated me or resented me for our…arrangement. I didn’t want to impose.” You stare at Diluc, slightly stunned. “I know I sound ridiculous, but I would have thought you’d be against an arranged marriage. I remember when we were kids and you were telling everyone you’d never get married, that you were going to join the Adventurer’s Guild and become a famous adventurer.”

You snort. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do. You know, we were introduced when we were young, and when father said that the two of us were going to be married, you told him straight to his face that you’d never marry a boy.” Diluc lets out a soft sigh.

You snort back your laughter. “Did that upset you?”

“N-no.” He lets out a soft laugh. “I wish we’d been able to speak more while growing up but…I was busy. I think the last time we actually ever interacted was at some ball or party, you were crying over something and…”

“You gave me flowers.” you finish, quietly. “I remember that very distinctly. Honestly, you made my night way better for that. I’m surprised you remember that moment.”

Diluc frowns at you. “Of course I do. Father actually had a few choice words to your mother about making you cry like that.” He lets out a soft breath. “I actually went off out of the city to find the perfect flowers to give to you in hopes that it’d cheer you up. I…was lucky you hadn’t already left the city when I got back.”

“Thank you, Diluc,” you murmur. “Really.”

A comfortable quiet lapses between the two of you - his fingers stroking your hair. You could fall asleep like this. “If you still want to join the Adventurer’s Guild, I would not be opposed to it.” He finally says, quietly. “Or if you want to work in the city - it isn’t uncommon these days, and I fear your family was a bit too traditionalist in how they raised you.”

“Maybe.” you mumble. “I could work at the Cat’s Tail, give you a bit of trouble.”

He leans down and kisses you on the lips. “I’d much prefer you joining the Guild.” he murmurs against your lips. “I might even have bragging rights if you get better at not breaking my weapons that you get your hands on.”

“Hmm, I’ll consider it.” You curl up close to him, your eyes drooping shut. You feel him relax and rest next to you, his breath warm. “Diluc?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” You feel him kiss the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his hair tickling you as he does.

“I love you too, my flame.”

#diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #genshin x reader #diluc #genshin x y/n #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x you #diluc imagines #ordo.txt #ordo.text

344 notes · View notes

gutterfuuck · 30 days

Note

ok all i can think of is super pervy & creepy incel mark w a reader who lowk knows he’s super weird and creepy with her but is like…into it. like he steals her underwear and gets off on the smell of her and she knows and is just like 🤷‍♀️😊 like maybe she finds a fucking box of her underwear under his bed while they’re hanging out and he’s like oh fuck i swear it’s not what it looks like and she’s like :0 okay but do you want another pair? 😊😊

“ and in addition to my other ask; what would be even better is a reader who is so like fucked up mentally over being into it (bc uhhh she doesn't think she should be so into her best friend being a fucking creep) and mark can tell and he's like ok so ur just a little pervert like me!— ☆ “

this is so good anon omggg—- it would also be an interesting idea to have a reader who’s kind of a bully/mean girl towards mark + he retaliates (😉) but that is a whole other concept that i am not focusing on rn haha 😅

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

you were accustomed to it by now; mark’s calloused finger tips brushing past your neck, hands wrapping around your waist or pulling you almost into his lap at times. he was just a touchy guy, you were his best friend, he’d never look at you like that!! mark just loved playing with your hair, he was just affectionate!

you knew why his hugs would linger just for a bit too long, you weren’t stupid. that’s why you weren’t the least bit shocked when you had found out where your underwear had ran off to. you weren’t shocked, weren’t exactly disappointed either. you knew what had been going on, you damn near set him up by just leaving your clothes thrown onto his bathroom floor after you would use his shower and purposely wearing short skirts and low tops whenever you would hang out with him. you’d picked up on his behaviour for a while now, so had everyone else. everyone around you could see how often mark would touch and let you walk up the stairs first so he could see up your skirt, “well i’m not gonna look up there, you know that.” “if you fall or slip, i’ll be there to catch you, y’know?” “c’mon y/n, don’t you trust me? wouldn’t you rather me accidentally see up there?” “you already walk around my house basically naked sometimes.” he justified, eventually winning you over and getting the chance to pull out his phone while distracting you with talk, taking a video from underneath your skirt.

you’d found them when you had dropped your phone down the side of his bed, going to get it before mark could protest and offer himself to grab it, he hadn’t moved that one pair of cotton white panties, the ones he had pressed up to his nose the night before, getting off to the scent of your pussy still on them. mark almost died when his fear came to fruition, you holding up your own pair of underwear that you had left your phone for.

mark’s face turned red, hand shooting forward to grab at the pair of underwear; you snatching your hand away. “i-it isn’t what you think it is!” he shouted, your eyes locked onto his. the corners of your lips turned upwards, glancing at the panties and then back to mark, “i think these are my panties. no, i’m sure.” you spoke, mark’s hands flew to your shoulders. “they must’ve g-gotten there by accident…-you’re always here, you never know, you might’ve left them here-” he stuttered, fingers digging into your skin gently, moving up to hold your face so he could give you a look of sincerity, hoping that you would believe his lies.

“d’you want more?”

he swear he heard ringing in his ears. the world seemed to slow down, his vision blurry. did you really just say that or was he actually going crazy this time? a beat, two. “what?” he breathed out, voice quiet and getting lost somewhere on the way out. “i’m wearing pink. white polkadots, lace i think.” you wondered, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt, inching it towards your upper thighs. further, further. “wanna see?” and mark feels like he’s going to explode. he was already nodding before you had even asked him if he wanted to look at your underwear, you got off of the bed, standing in front of him and lifted your skirt up. lace, just like you had promised. crimson red trickled out of mark’s nose, dick throbbing in his pants.

he looked so disheveled, half lidded puppy eyes focused on your clothed cunt, blood slowly dripping down his nose and past his chin, red staining his shirt. “can.. c-can i…” he almost drooled, hand reaching towards your thigh, needing to hold you, needing to confirm that this was real and happening. “you’re gonna let me touch you here, yeah?” his hands stuck to your waist, pulling you closer as he moved to kneel in front of you, pressing his face into your cunt and sniffing feverishly, tongue lolling out to lick you through the cloth.

“s’good… smell so f-fuckin’ good, y/n..” he groaned, you giggled. you were so perfect for him, so fucking perfect. he slid one of his hands into his pants, wasting no time in stroking his cock, jerking himself off while he sniffed around under your skirt and put his mouth around your still covered pussy, wetting the fabric and licking up your juices as soon as they secreted from your heat and soaked into your panties that mark would definitely be keeping. your hands stroked through his hair, gasping lightly when he pulled your panties to the side and instantly began sucking harshly on your clit, rubbing circles into it with his hot tongue.

this was sooo fucked up. were you taking advantage of him? would it even matter seeing as he’s obviously been taking advantage of you, stealing your underwear while you weren’t looking? you didn’t care, neither did mark. you especially didn’t care when his fingers found their way into your warm cunt, pumping in and out while he gently grazed your sensitive bud with his teeth, your fingers tightening in his hair and your chest heaving, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat as he held you still with both hands now, teeth biting down just right enough for it to make you almost jump backwards, a light squeal leaving your lips.

“taste so good… so wet f’me, getting my fingers all sticky..” he talked into your clit, tongue flicking back and forth. mark pulled away, looking up at you with lust glazed eyes, putting his fingers into his mouth and sucking your slick off of his digits. he turned you around, mouth open while he panted, hands spreading your asscheeks as his tongue began licking circles around your asshole, making you almost jump at the unexpected action. “j-just wanna touch you everywhere…” mark told you, tongue pushing past your tight little back opening, your ass clenching around his tongue as you nearly fell over onto your knees, mark steadying you.

you were always teasing him, always. he pulled his tongue out, pulling you down onto the floor with him, positioning you onto your back, hands attacking your zipped up jacket and almost tearing the clean off. no shirt. no bra. fuck, you’d done this on purpose. “so fucking hot…” he said before sucking on your now exposed nipples, other hand squeezing as if he had no idea on how to handle tits gently. oh, that was because he didn’t. he was inexperienced, but it wasn’t something that made you upset. no, quite the opposite, you liked it; the hungriness of it. the greediness, selfishness.

“no bra… practically naked under there…-“ he huffed tapping your leg so you would wrap your legs around his waist. he bent down to lick your cheek, smiling when you gave him a look of confusion, “p-perv..!” you joked, laughing at him. his cock strained, his cheeks went pink. “again… fuck, call me that again.” mark muttered, humping against you on the floor, trapping you in with his teeth tight on your shoulder. you complied, gasping and nodding, “pervert..”

he lost it, getting to his feet and keeping his hand on your head so you knew not to stand up along with him, his hand anchored in the back of your hair, using it to pull you forward so he could rub your face in his bulge, throwing his head back when you opened your mouth, sliding your lips up and down the side of his cock through his pants.

in reality, maybe you were the pervert. you couldn’t care less, your hot best friend was trying to force his fat cock all the way down your throat with his gorgeous face all ruined and flustered with your lacey-pink-and-white panties held up to his nose, your scent drove him fucking crazy, your own face streaking of mascara and your lipstick smudged around the corners of your lips. you were beautiful to him, his hips unrelenting with his messy thrusts. “nghh aaaahh.. so warm… ‘s this what pussy feels like too?” he asked, gripping your hair even tighter. “b-bet you’re tighter in there… in your cunt-“ he continued to let his tip bully the back of your neck, your throat bulging ever so slightly with each harsh thrust, catching a rhythm that made his balls slap against your chin. “c-callin’ me the perv… you’re all soaked and sicky down there…” your eyes watered, nails digging into the meat of this thighs, your cunt gushing. this was so wrong, you should know better than to let your best friend throat fuck you after finding out that he had been getting away with stealing your items of clothing for so long. “you’re the real pervert, hah..- you look so messy, f-fuck, i-i’m gonna cumdownyourthroat—“ he choked out, dick pulsing as his head rolled back, his vision blanking and hips stuttering, thick ropes of cum filling your mouth.

he was right, you were the perv. only a perv would swallow their best friend’s load and beg him to shoot the next one into your guts.

#mark grayson x reader #dark blog #mark grayson smut #invincible x reader #mark grayson #invincible #💬 sparkie is typing…#invincible smut #fem reader #bff!mark grayson

277 notes · View notes

dreamlandcreations · 2 months

Text

Chapter 1 • Faded dreams

Feyd x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You risk your life to find out what your dreams mean...

Warnings: space drugs (🙈), near death experience, mention of blood and death and war, no dialogue, no Feyd yet (well...), this is basically a prologue

•Feyd-Rautha masterlist• Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

• Series masterlist • Next part •

Your dreams were getting worse and it was getting more difficult to wake up each time. They seemed so real, yet they fade away each time within seconds as you finally jolt awake from the nightmares. All that remains is fear and a knowing that you are seeing the end.

You tried to ask your mother for help, well, more like tried to ask for information without telling her what's going on. Paul's own dreams were a good excuse to justify your curiosity but it also limited your options of inquiring about your specifically maddening problem. Because, of course your brother gets to dream about a pretty girl while you drown in a bloody nightmare every night. If only you could see more clearly, the not knowing of what these hazy images mean is almost worse than the death you witness each time.

You can't tell your mother though, or even Paul. They would try to stop you from making this utterly stupid decision that will probably result in your death. They wouldn't be able to understand that that possibility cannot be worse than this slowly driving you into insanity.

It was not as difficult as you thought, tricking a mentat, a doctor and a Bene Gesserit to give you little doses of spice to try. According to your careful research, with what you were gifted by Lady Fenring on her last visit, it should be enough to induce the process.

You waited until nighttime, until you knew everyone went to sleep. It was an unnecessary precaution as it turns out because Paul in the next room startled awake as soon as you took the spice.

With your last coherent thought you were thinking that getting hit by lightning must feel something like this. Only the energy didn't just hit you once, it was trapped inside your body, wreaking havoc in the very essence of your being. It was tearing you apart, and the pain was unbearable.

For a long while there was nothing but the pain, you did not really feel or sense anything. Then the first thing you were aware of was screaming, it took you a moment to realise it was your own, just before you had another wave of power rushing through you and you lost every bit of control over your body. The screaming stopped and you faintly heard your mother for a few seconds before the dreams drew you in.

No, not dreams, visions. You see everything all at once, and at first none of it made sense then you felt... time, in a way it couldn't be explained in words. The connections, the possibilities, the what ifs... like the branches of a tree... too many variants for even a mentat to handle and you were only half-trained at best. Yet, you understood, no, you felt, you sensed, you became a part of each version a little, living in a million moments at once, spread apart and yet still whole beneath that... like the branches of a tree...

The tree, your ancestry, you have to get to the other memory to finish the trial. You try to look within yourself, slightly distracted by regaining some of your physical sense and weakly trying to fight off the poison of the spice.

At the end of the spiral you see a figure, a source of all the death and misery that haunts you. A familiar, yet strange face that seemed to look into your soul. There is that rage and madness you started to see in your own reflection, only this gaze, this unnatural blue scared you more than your own demons.

Well, she is your demon in a way.

With that thought the spice floods your mind again, taking you where you wanted to go, forcing you down on the line of your ancestors, their knowledge and experience becoming a part of your consciousness but you know something is terribly wrong when your mind takes a path that no Bene Gesserit has before. You see your father and his entire line, both female and male members of your extended family tree on his part. And it comes surprisingly easy to you, too easy.

Your mother's line stops with her, there's something horrible beyond that which your mind cannot deal with and it almost shatters you.

On the inside you struggle to get out of the darkness that pulls you in. On the outside your body crashes, your heart stops, and so does your breathing.

You hear Paul's yell to the doctor to do something, followed by your mother's command, using the Voice to order you to breathe. With your last bit of strength leaving you, it feels like what you would call your soul starts to leave your body. It is quite peaceful actually, there's no more pain or worry, only a calm nothingness but unlike the previous cold and twisted darkness that came from within this feels right and you almost slip away from existence when you feel something, someone catch you and practically drag you back.

There's a voice, a command of a simple "No!" comes with the force that knocks you down and holds you in this world. The tone is unfamiliar, the raspy voice with the obvious rage laced into it sounds more like a growl than anything else and it is followed by a similarly angry, yet so much louder order, "FIGHT!"

The presence is gone as soon as it came but you are tethered to your body again, feeling how it shuts down sparks a sudden defiance in you. Not really knowing what you're doing, you will your heart's muscles to move, to pump the remaining spice through your body and your cells absorb it, sparkling to new life, then you slowly and now consciously start to sort of reboot your system with this new strange energy.

When you are done you just rest, unable to truly sleep but too tired to move too, you think. Going through the visions again and again, you start to see a pattern. As soon as you understand the reasons behind the events, it all comes together, all the previously possible paths become clear until a certain point.

Hours go by as you lie there, practically trapped in your own body but there's no fear in you anymore, you are too busy planning your next move. And the next, and the next.

You might have failed getting through the Spice Agony and it's a miracle you are alive but it doesn't matter, it wasn't an unnecessary risk after all, you know the truth now. There is only one person who's decisions changed the end game, all the others who you thought had enough power to be key persons could only influence the path, not the outcome. So you know, your mother can never set foot on Arrakis and if you have to take her place in the story, so be it.

• Series masterlist • Next part •

•Feyd-Rautha masterlist• Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

• Taglist •

#feyd #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x you #my stuff #my fics

255 notes · View notes

portgasdwrld · 8 months

Note

Remember those og youtube challenges where beauty gurus had their s/os doing their makeup? Ok so maybe the crew were invited to some luxurious island or something and reader injured their arm prior to this event, so entrusted their beauty routine to the strawhats? I know nami & robin won’t let us down, but I’m so ready for the guys to mess us up. 💄 - 🩵

Hii love, how are you!!? Love the idea once again🫶🏻🫶🏻

📂Strawhats doing your make-up for an event

Luffy

He was so excited to learn about what make up was and how to help you with it!

He was listening to your explanation with big eyes and attentive ears

When it came to actually do it, he tried his best to focus, but it ended up looking goofy asf 💀

The eyebrows were overdrawn, the eyeshadow was not blended at all, the eyeliner wing was wonky

You looked like a fun experience of make up that’s for sure, a kid drawing at best

You didn’t want to hurt his feeling telling him it looked bad, so you said it was fine

He left satisfied proud of himself

It looked better done by you even with your handicap 😭

He tried tho 😭🫶🏻

Usopp

He was hella confident, saying he knew some skills from Kaya, so he totallyyyy got it.

The moment he got his hand on your make-up your brushes, he totally freaked out and didn’t know where to start. He forgot everything she taught him.

He admitted he was lost with embarrassment, but instantly relaxed when you chuckled reassuring him and helped him through it.

He actually really did a great job. Well expected from the artist and snipper of the crew, his abilities for details didn’t disappoint.

You ask him to help you from now on, when you’re having a bad make-up day🚶🏻‍♀️

Zoro

Man was lost lost. He glared at you like “why the fuck are you asking me?”

He said no and walked away, but you whined telling him the others were busy getting ready and he was already done so it was the least he could do.

He stayed firm on his position, but only agreed when you brought up, you could bribe Nami into reducing his debts towards her.

Kinda worked?

He did a horrible job :/

We love you Zoro but make up isn’t quite for you😔

Sanji

He was sooooo down for it. He was smiling so hard and was lowkey dreaming about being able to help you with your make-up routine.

When you asked, he accepted immediately, even cutting you off mid-sentence

He was already on his way to prepare some snacks for you while he helps you out.

He was listening to you very carefully, not wanting to miss out on any of your indications and ruin it.

He was so good and gentle with it?? He was blushing like crazy, being so close to your face, but he got the job done.

He would softly ask you if this was alright and if you liked it. Always asking for feedback so it’s at your liking. Never felt annoyed when you asked to redo something. He was so nice and cool about it which made the experience so enjoyable.

You loved it sm & gave him a big hug that got him on a good mood for the rest of the day☹️💕

Nami

When you asked her, she totally understood on the spot and sat you on a chair close to her.

Before she started, she asked you what was your vision and what you wanted basically.

She gave you advice on what would look best on your facial features, and what would go along with your outfit.

It felt like a professional session, she super focused

Y'all spoke about fashion the whole time and she was so enthusiastic and hyped about the whole thing

She gossiped about who could possibly be there at the event and if there was gonna be anything worth doing, stealing

the end result was so good, it was even better than you imagined it

10/10 would recommend again

Robin

She nodded and asked you to sit somewhere

After she got a general idea of what you wanted she started to work on your make-up at first silently, trying to build the base

As she saw time was running out, she used her devil fruit power to make it quicker and do both side at the same time.

You made a joke about her power being useful and she chuckled before agreeing

she started to speak about her DF and how as she grew up, she kept finding uses to it

It was really a nice and almost healing time

Robin felt like an older sister doing your make up as Nami had more of that best friend vibe

She even fixed your hair to make sure your look was completed and proposed you look through her accessories if you wanted

love her !!!

592 notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 10 months

Note

That language SAGAU but the Reader can only communicate writing on paper.

Either the Reader is mute and they (characters) don't know/understand sign language or they somehow lost their voices on their transmigration to Teyvat and can only write now. But the characters are left trying to decipher what the Reader wrote.

Examples:

Kaeya: "I may say, that was very unexpected your grace. One such as yourself should be more aware of who you are."

Reader: "wat, y u sayin dat?"

Gorou: "Oh, your grace! Careful now. I am most certain that you stepped on something unsightly right now. Let me clean your feet, your grace."

Reader: "r u srs rn? Fml"

Ooooo, this is nice, this is niiccceeee /ref

this would be the energy⬇️

Man I love this show, I gotta finish it (it’s Komi Can’t Communicate for those who want to see it) where she basically is too shy/introverted to speak (non-verbal neurospicy it seems like to me actually lol) and really wants to make friends and do normal things despite not speaking, her main way of communicating is writing (and her first guy friend who can just read her facial/body language really well lmao)!!

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Headcanons-ish?

Stars: dashes/mention of most characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Reader/”you” are mute/lost their voice, & Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

This kinda falls into that post I made abt texting lingo, abt us being nigh incomprehensible when using texting lang. (its basically a code lol)

but i think it’s always neat to see nonverbal rep so here we are (also i think imma go ahead and say it is both selectively mute but also enforced by video game laws!)

u know a good explanation would be for this is actually abt how we technically are only allowed to freely communicate when we’re in chats,

so I could see that still being the only way we can commnicate in Teyvat (look am i little excited abt taking “video game world” a little too literally in every genshin AU ever- maybe.)

tbh i could see so many allogenes having to either learn to make room for you in convos and u also having to get wayyy more expressive in body language/facial expressions

tbh i think itd be pretty easy to get ur meaning, like in a battle or smth fast-paced where u couldnt write, like how Tinker Bell can?

if u dont know what i mean just search “tinkerbell scenes peter pan” on youtube and u can see ppl just having a full conversation with no words with her, which i think would deffo happen with ppl like Kaeya, Lisa, Lumine, Venti, Heizou, Ayato, Yae Miko, Thoma, Beidou and Itto surprisingly i could see it (ppl in the distance just think theyre all talking to themselves sometimes when ur not as visible hehe)

OMG they get u nice gifts for writing all the time, like the newest compact pens from Fontaine, the finest small, medium, and large notebooks from Inazuma,

like a little compact pocketbook so u can easily fit it in pockets!

u know Im absolutely sure you could literally start the texting appreviation trend in Tevyat like this-

like just so it’s easier to communicate with you, a lot of people are willing to adapt/take on abbreviations like “ttyl, gtg, wth, lol, lmao” even stuff like “etc”

lol u start a whole trend in the writing letters business, hehe silly medieval Teyvat is silly and medieval

yknow I think the quieter vision users would definitely find you to be peaceful to be around and easy to understand just with writing (also deffo most likely to adore the soft moments together of just ur pen scribbling and the sounds of nature or a cafe or something around them),

tbh i also think these ppl would be motivated to talk to you alone, or get you away to just talk the two of you for all the reasons above, like Xiao, Aether, Kazuha, Ayaka, Chongyun, Zhongli, Diluc, Sayu, Ei, Sucrose, Eula, Ganyu, Ningguang, Tighnari, Alhaitham omg he might literally be able to take his headphones off around u bc youd be in such quiet spaces all the time, and bc u dont talk he doesn’t have to worry abt u getting loud either lmao

…and then ofc, there’s the bitches that try and guess what ur writing ahead of timeeee 😭

bein all like, “Uh… you.. would like.. to go to… a restaurant… to get some- OH OH I got this one this time! Some pita pockets! …Oh. A drink. Right. Sorry, again.”

definitely Itto, Cyno, Heizou, Xingqiu, Fischl, Amber, Collei, Dehya, Wanderer, Childe, Venti, Keqing (she just used to being fast ok), Kaveh lmao

☆

I hope my reply was a little fun!! THANK U FOR SENDING THIS I LOVE THIS SM!! Man it’s so hard to make you feel my appreciation for this idea thru the damn screen

like how do i send a virtual hug

ANYWAY, if you or anybody else had an idea for celebrating 1000 followers lmk bc i am STRUGGLING with this same issue for that,

like how to make u guys feel my love 😩 ❤️‍🔥

☆

Safe travels ignihideous,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #my asks #genshin impact sagau #gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #sagau x reader #idk my tags help #also pls if u got follower celebrate things for me to do lmk #genshin imagines

564 notes · View notes

skeletonapricationday · 6 months

Text

Naughty girl

Warnings: Porn w/o plot, fem reader x nanami, deephthroating, face fucking, angry Kento, use if whore.

18+ minors dni

Nanami stared as you bent over the desk, looking for your lost pen. You had it five seconds ago, you kept swearing that up and down. It was frustrating because you were distracting him from his work.

Nanami wasn't a very sexual man. He lived to work and go home, that was it. Simple and sweet. Yet he was still a man at the end of the day. Seeing you bend over in that skirt, scrambling all around his office for your pen. It was troubling. He sighs and stands.

"If I promise to help you look will you leave my office?" He says in a gruff. His deep voice echoing off the walls.

"Yes sir-e!" You say excitedly and innocently. "I swear I used it yesterday to help you with that report. Now its missing, like missing missing." You say with a small pout. That cute quiver of your lip catching his vision. He tilts his head away, trying to ignore you.

"Why can't I just give you one of my pens?" He says exasperated.

"Because you also gave me this pen, so it's my favorite pen. No other pen will feel the same!" You shout confidently and annoyingly.

"If you like that one so much because I gave it to you, why not just let me give you a new one? You make no sense." He says logically, as always. Yet this wasn't about logic. He gave you this pen two years ago, when you finally cracked a thin layer of his hard shell. It was a sign of friendship and good faith, you were not going to give up on this.

"Because-because I want this specific pen okay." You say emrbassed. Not at all willing to admit the true reason to the logic king himself.

He nods slowly, like he wasn't going to bother arguing further. Simply scanning a bookshelf, seeing if you mistakenly placed it there. He swears to himself that the intelligent woman yesterday who helped him fill out that report is the same scatterbrain currently looking for her pen. Obliviously showing her body off in several interesting positions.

You slowly get onto your hands and knees, sticking a hand under the couch. Seeing if you can feel anything underneath. When you don't you arch your hips up further to keep yourself from slipping, as you peep your head underneath. "It's dark and dusty under here. I always thought you had too much OCD to not dust under the couch." You tease playfully. Just trying to joke with the serious man, like normal.

"Shut up and stop looking under there." You here the blank reply from behind you.

"No need to get so defensive. Of course this place isn't going to be sparkly clean, you work too much. Yknow I really respect that about-" You squeak as you're cut off. Your ankle being grapped, forcibly pulled from under the couch.

"Did you not hear me the first time?" He asks, using your ankle to flip you onto your back. "Or do I have to shout." The last half is also a question, yet he says it like a statement. His voice always cold and callous, despite his actual kind nature.

You blush at how strong he was. It was juxtaposition to your strength. Enough cursed energy to be a sorcerer compared to normal humans, but so weak you had to be an assistant. "Nanami...this position is a bit...interesting?" You say softly and confused.

"And your last position wasn't?" He drops your ankle. Giving you a chance to slowly rise up, sitting on your knees emrbassed. "If you're going to wear a skirt, please be self aware." He states simply.

Wait, what did he mean by that. Suddenly your whole face flushes, realizing you've been flaunting your ass. Basically putting yourself on display.

Nanami clears his throat, surprisingly loosening his tie a bit. Rubbing the side of his face annoyed and...flushed.

"Look I'm sorry...I just didn't think about it." You say shyly, biting your bottom lip. As much as you dreamed of Nanami lustfully gazing at your backside, you never meant to accidently do it. In your fantasy it was always purposful, taking advantage of his cold demeanor by turning him on. This was not a fantasy, you're right in front of him.

He stares down at you and sighs. "Come on, up off your knees." He says softly. That sentence makes you discretly clench your thighs. Imagining those words in a different scenario. You look at his offered hand and take it, slowly standing with his help.

"You didn't do it on purpose, it's okay." He's say in a coo, almost like he felt bad.

"What if I did?" You ask, surprising even yourself. You didn't do this on purpose, why did you say that? More importantly, why didn't you stop yourself?

"What?" You hear by your side. Looking at his stern face. Waiting for digust to roll in, hell maybe he'll even shout. Tell you to get out of his office, even worse maybe fire you.

Suddenly he laughs. Gripping onto the side of his desk...laughing. "You have alot of nerve." He says walking over to you. Raising a hand to your face. You expect the sting of a slap, but instead he squishes your cheeks together. "Cause then I'd call you an attention seeking whore." He tsks his tongue and smiles. An annoyed grin, faux politeness despite his harsh words.

"I-uhm- sorry I didn't really mean-" The pressure of his grip grows. Stopping you mid sentence.

"I won't hear any of your excuses." He pushes you against his desk, the table digging into the back of your thighs. A small patch of arousal staining your underwear. "In fact I'll reward you."

"What?" You say confused, knitting your brows. He lets out a small cold huff. Slipping his hand from your chin to down your throat. Softly rubbing the side of your neck.

"If your goal was to provoke me- it worked." His other free hand grabs yours. Pressing it against his thigh. You feel his hot throbbing length struggling not to reveal itself. "Do you know how hard it is trying to keep my dick tucked while helping you look around?" He coos to you. His fingers wrap around yours, causing you to the feel the entirety of his girth. "C'mon don't be shy now."

"Is that really...wow." You say breathlessly. The huge thing in your hand really was his cock. Straining against his professional trousers. "Why didn't you say anything?" You say softly. Gripping it curiously with your fingers, earning a soft groan from him.

"Its not exactly professional to hit on your assistant...also a tad too clichéd." He replies honestly. Running the hand on your neck down to your skirt. Flipping it up and letting out a soft pleased sigh. "I'm not one for business and pleasure but, this damned skirt." He chuckles softly. Rubbing your left thigh, watching it jiggle in response. "God it gets me rock hard."

You shiver at his touch. His hands warm against your thigh, but the heat of your aching cunt is hotter. "Nanami..." You whisper his name out softly.

He tsks his tongue in response. "I got my hand up your skirt, call me Kento." He leans in and kisses your neck softly, nibbling at the soft flesh. His hot breath sending goosebumps. "Kay'?" He whispers into your ear.

You nod softly. Letting out small sounds of pleasure as his lips travel across your throat. "Kento please your hand...it can go further than my thigh."You squeak out. Hoping the muscular man gets the message.

"Oh I know...but you've been naughty. Why would I give you what you want?" He coos backing away from you. Even pulling your hand away from his dick. "It be more punishing to leave you a dripping wet needy mess." He says with a smirk. A thing you never expected to see on his face. The pure unbridled joy he has in teasing you. Getting revenge for your two years of oblivious actions.

He smiles at you and sits back down in his desk chair. Going back to reviewing his documents despite your whines of protest. "Kento please.." You say walking behind his chair. Wrapping your arms around him, hands splayed across his chest. Rubbing the hard planes of muscle. "I don't even have to feel good, I just wanna feel you." You tempt into his ear. Kissing underneath it. He huff in response and expertly pulls your hands off his chest.

"I'd stop now. Bad girls get punished." He speaks sternly. Not at all humoring you. You don't listen and walk to the front of his chair, dropping to your knees, rubbing your face against his thigh. He finally lets go of his document. "Do you really want it that bad?" He coos softly. Like a false sense of security.

You nod against his thigh, looking up at him with a lust addled gaze. He gives you an evil smile, one that sends shivers down your spine. He undoes his belt buckle, tugging his pants and boxers to free himself. His huge length standing proudly at attention. "Go on pretty girl." He says brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. "Give it a taste." He says smiling.

You listen excitedly. Falling right into his trap as your lips curl around his cock. Slowly bobbing your head down after swirling your tongue around his tip. A pleasnt salty bead of precum meeting your tongue. You can only fit half of him in your mouth, even without a gag reflex the pure girth was already stretching your jaw. He throws his head back and groans. "Finally...a way to shut you up." He says happily, almost relaxed.

His hand curls into your hair, gripping it at the base. Successfully pulling your hair out of your way. A part of you was about to mention how sweet it was until. He grips hard and slams your head down, painfully making you take the rest of him down your throat. Your nose pressed against the soft curls of his pubes. A small surprised gag leaves your lips. "Oh darling don't you remember. You've been naughty, and naughty girls get what?" He asks you. He looks down at you amused for a second. Using his hand to pull you up and down on him. Small tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "I forgot, can't talk with your mouth full can you?" He laughs and groans. The two sounds like music to your ears.

This was gonna be a harsh night.

#x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #no use of y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #jjk fanfic #no plot whatsoever #no plot to be found #lime #lemon

222 notes · View notes

moodymisty · 3 months

Note

Since I remember you saying on a previous post that it would be fun for you to write. I’d like to request a konrad x gn reader.

He’s what the the people on tumblr call a “poor little meow meow”. And I’d just like to see him not only tormented by visions but also by basic human feelings of affection and attraction

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: This was fun to write :> I hope you both enjoy. This is my first real time writing anything for Konrad.

Summary: Konrad searches for you after you refused to listen to him.

Relationships: Konrad Curze/Gn!Reader

Warnings: NIGHT LORDS CONTENT, Blood, Gore mentions, Sevatar bullies you because he can, Abuse probably, Toxic relationship based on fear but also he kinda fine tho, Predator/Prey, It's Night Lords content I don't know what else I can say

Word Count: 1395

You remember the words of Primarch Fulgrim when he’d first cast eyes on you.

‘Truly, he is utterly obsessed with you.’

You hadn't understood what he meant of it at the time. Though as time has gone by, your think back on it now and see what Fulgrim had been referring to.

Konrad speaks of you with a demented sort of worship, like you hold the only key to his ever elusive happiness. He’s obsessed with you, obedient to you, he’ll give you anything you desire no matter what it takes.

But most of all, he wants you to look at him and only him.

"There you are, little toy."

You turn and look to see a familiar set of dark blue armor, marred by smatterings of dried blood and scratches from its many years of dependable use.

You know Sevatar does this because he thinks it's demeaning to not call a superior by their proper title. Especially in a hierarchy as strict as an Astartes legion. You couldn't care less. You call him Jago anyways, and he always gives an odd little smile when you do.

You know more than likely why he's here. Konrad had attempted to summon you somewhere you refused to go- where you'd rather die than go- and now he's sending someone for you. Any other might assume that your living minutes were numbered after such a refusal towards a Primarch, though you think Konrad allows you to do so because he enjoys that you're scared.

"...Jago?"

Sevatar finds the whole thing both amusing and annoying. He has better things to do than fetch his genefather's cute little plaything. Though at least you provide enough amusement for it to be better than some of the other tasks he's been delegated over his years.

He steps into your personal space- not hard given the sheer size of the man- resting a hand on the pommel of his chainsword. He doesn’t grab for you, but you know he wants to.

"If you're not going to come when he calls," Sevatar leans over you, and you can smell the rotten flesh on his armor; See the way his eyes dart over your face. “Then you might want to just run instead and give him something fun."

You can only dare to look him in the eyes, and although he can see right through it, you attempt to not completely shatter under his gaze.

Though right as your hands start to shake Sevatar leans up and chuckles, before walking away.

The Nightfall is astronomical in size, you have no idea where you could possibly go. And getting lost could mean stumbling into Night Lords who care far less than Sevatar does about keeping their Primarch happy.

To them, they’ll taken whatever punishment put upon them if they get a chance to play with something as sweet as you, as Sevatar once said. The thought had made your throat tighten. Especially hearing his tone; That as much as you trust Sevatar- and maybe even Talos- more than the other Night Lords, he was thinking the same as them.

But you only know of a few places on the Gloriana class ship that you can get to without guidance. Konrad has been very deliberate with making sure you stay within his eyeline.

The bridge, which will be swarming with Night Lords and is more than likely where Konrad himself is. Then there is the area of the ship that serves as Konrad's private quarters. It’s familiar to you, he knows you would go there. The only other place is the small librarium that serves as a temporary placement for parchment of value being saved before returning to Nostramo.

It's largely empty. Pskyers in the legion are next to none, and only a few people keep the area from falling into any disrepair.

With Sevatar gone you instantly begin running for it, trying to make your way and avoid the eyes of anyone around.

Any large bang on the walls sounds like his boots, any scrape of machinery against metal sounds like his lightning claws. You keep looking over your shoulder every time.

When you finally reach it you don't even feel relieved; You know Konrad will find you.

You know that even if you had somehow managed to evade him for a moment Sevatar knows where you are- you'd be dumb if you hadn't noticed the feeling of his eyes on you, watching- he would just tell his genefather where you were to get his distraction concluded with faster.

You've never been particularly scared of the dark, but now it feels so enveloping. And while the unknown is terrifying, it also helps you feel small, tucked between shelves. While your heart might have relaxed from pounding against your rib cage from running, it’s still racing as your ears prick to every little sound. You touch old parchment with a fingertip, feeling rough against your skin.

You don't know how long it's been; Your stomach grumbles a bit, but it's hard to tell if it's hunger or nausea.

You can hear the door open, and the sound of boots on the floor. It makes your heart nearly stop for a moment.

You know it's him from the weight of them. You steel yourself back against a shelf and look towards the end where there's still a bit of light and can only wait.

To think, the man you think you love, who professes his obsession with you at every moment, can make you feel like this.

You imagine those moments where his black hair frames his face and his eyes aren’t nearly as dark when he looks at you, as his shadow approaches.

He finally catches sight of you, and his voice softens just a bit. Primarch voices are always so loud, especially when they yell, and he seems to always talk to you like you’re so, so gentle.

"There you are."

His cape brushes against the ground as he comes closer. He overtakes any little amount of light there is, shadowing your body in an even more darkness.

“Your hiding is cute, my love, but you know I'll always find you."

He isn’t wearing his full armor, only some cloth trousers and heavy boots leaving his upper body unclothed. You think they were the ones given to him by Fulgrim. His recent time with his brother has had a noticeable effect, though the smile he gives you is still while endearing- though perhaps that’s just you and your love for him- is still off.

He bows to get just close enough to you to grab your jaw with his right hand, but when that isn't close enough, he takes a knee.

His eyes are like voids as you look into him, his skin is perfect. The smile on his face you'd dare to call handsome of you weren't here; If he didn't have you cornered like a whimpering animal.

Why did it have to be him; Out of everyone in the galaxy, why did it have to be him that saw something in you worth loving. And why do you keep coming back for more.

That evening with Fulgrim had almost made him seem normal, and now you're back here; Back in Hell.

“Are you going to run again? Or just cry?” His fingers touch just below your eye, breaking your waterline and sending a single tear down your cheek. He leans even closer.

“You look so sweet when you cry.” His lips press against the shell of your ear.

"If you ever say his name like that again, I will make you step into that Gallery, my love."

You assume he must mean Jago. You don't know how he heard you, but you know he's obsessive, dominating, all-consuming; That you are his ever so tiny sliver of happiness he won't let go of. He's said before you are the only thing that makes his world not feel like torment, and you'd find almost romantic if it wasn't so suffocating.

His lips leave the shell of your ear and ghost over your own, as they tremble. You'd try and pull away if you weren't so trapped in him. You hate that even with how much he scares you, he has you caught like a fishhook.

"No one gets to hear you say their name but me."

#Konrad Curze x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

168 notes · View notes