#Layla Telle

[rottin6]

mdni. 18+ | bartylily, for @sommerregenjuniluft

the first time barty fucks lily, she’s terrified. completely scared by the way his size impales her, and he can tell. he picks up the pace, his hand lightly pressing on her throat. lily, curious as ever, looks down and watches as his thick length pulls out. it’s ridiculously long, she thinks when it stuffs back inside her, stretching her out beyond what she thought should be possible. she doesn’t think she can hold on, her nails digging into the bedsheets. her eyes are welling up with tears because jesus, he’s literally impaling her, over and over. it feels good, she thinks, it really does—way better than what it looks like, and barty can tell she’s nervous.

“hey,” he calls her attention to him and all lily wants is to hear his voice on repeat. barty cups her jaw, he’s gentle when he’s guiding her face to look at him. his hold’s strong enough so she can’t look away. “eyes on me, okay? i’ve got you, angel.” lily nods, a tear falling and she swears barty goes harder at that point. she watches him above her, his eyes on her. she thinks he looks so pretty like this. her muscles relax around him and his cock slides against her walls easier, hitting right at the back.

“there you go,” barty praises, his lips curling into a grin. “that’s my girl, you’re doin’ so well. fuck—feels nice, doesn’t it?”

lily nods, “uh, huh.” she cries, clinging onto him. the heel of her foot digs into the mattress and she pushes herself down onto his cock, feeling it stuffed deep inside her. she’s never felt so full before, never had anyone the way barty takes her.

at some other point, barty’s got a grip on her hair, pushing her head down into the pillow. he’s running a hand over lily’s side as she bends over the couch. he’s grinning and she doesn’t need to look behind to know it. “i wish you could see yourself like this,” barty murmurs.

“w–why?” lily chokes, her eyes red and puffy. her cheek’s smushes against the pillow, drool all over the fabric. barty pushes his hips harder, rocking lily’s body forward. a loud moan falls from her lips when he does that and her eyes close momentarily.

“your ass looks so fucking good,” barty replies, cursing under his breath and lowering his hand to slap her flesh. the loud smack is obscene and lily cries, both in pleasure and pain. her tight walls clench around his cock when he hits her, so he does it again and again. over and over. “makes me wanna fuck you until you can’t walk.”

barty grabs lily’s arm, yanking her closer to him. it’s violent but that’s barty. he presses her sweaty back against his chest, his lips kissing across her jaw and down her neck, tasting the tears that fall from her eyes. “want me to choke you, angel?” he offers, though he knows lily can’t say no. she nods dumbly, her mind all fogged up and she can’t speak.

he smirks down at her and when she expects his hand to wrap around her throat, she gasps when she feels his arm snaking around. he flexes his bicep, cutting off her airflow in a way she’d only ever dreamt about. lily grips onto his muscles, her nails digging into his flesh.

“there you go, pretty girl.” barty praises. “i know you love how i fuck you.”

when lily’s all done and fucked, reduced to nothing but a quivering mess, she pants hard with an arm thrown over her eyes to shield herself from barty’s gaze. he thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world, getting all shy after begging for his cock.

“baby, you came so much,” he commends through an exhale and a snicker on one night. barty had fucked her over and over, and lily struggled not to cry. she did that sometimes, the waterworks take over when her poor body is too overwhelmed. he shuffles and carefully pulls out from her. lily jolts from the sudden loss of being full and hot cum oozes out of her. both hers and barty’s pour out from her hole, and his grip on her waist tightens as he watches the liquid spill out from her. “fuck, angel, we did good.”

lily nods in agreement, moving just enough so he doesn’t think she’s ignoring him.

"fucked those pretty guts, didn't i?" he asks and she winces at his crude language. that flinch deepens, whimpering when his rough hands clutch the undersides of her thighs to pick her up more. he folds her over herself, stretching her legs impossibly further apart and she aches. "look at all that cum, angel. hell of a creampie." it raises her hips closer to his face, and he plunges two fingers into his mouth, coating them with spit to dip between her ass cheeks, gathering the sticky trail of white to scoop it back into her quivering hole.

"barty," lily cries, wiggling indignantly as he cruelly shoves his fluids back into her.

"can't let you waste it, sweet girl." barty tells her, moistening his lips as he devours the sight of her poor cunt struggling to hold everything he's giving it. "that's it. makin' me so proud right now."

[sea-lanterns]

I'm curious, do you think that the resident genshin women would have any inhuman features that they normally have in the game (such as horns, fox ears, etc) or would that transfer over to their doppels? I.e. would Resident!Ganyu have her Qilin horns or would Doppel!Ganyu have them instead?

That’s actually a really interesting question tbh. I like it!

Because this is an AU where everyone is seemingly “normal” then yes, I do believe the Residents (the normal genshin women) would just be regular humans in this AU. No fox ears, no Qilin horns, no adepti scales, they’re all just regular humans in your apartment complex with regular jobs.

…Ofc, because doppelgangers are attempting to copy their human counterparts, I imagine that they do mess up sometimes and end up having the fox ears, the Qilin horns, or the adepti scales that the genshin women would normally have. Really creative of you anon, I like the idea that the doppelgangers would have the “fantasy” traits of the genshin women 😳

[toracainz]

Tell Me Where to Put My Love pt4

You and Steven haven’t been together very long, but that won’t stop either of you from fighting tooth and nail for a chance at a future together.

Series Masterlist

Part 3 -  Different Kind of Danger in the Daylight

Part 4 -  Unavailability Is The Only Thing That Turns You On

Part 5

Warnings: Inaccurate depictions of DID (only knowledge from the show and some light research). Swearing. Established relationships. Married relationship. Use of term “priest” in a gender neutral sense. Discussion about cheating. Discussion about homewreckers. Canon typical violence in later chapters. Mentions of food. Angst. Fluff.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I am so sorry it's taken me this long to post the next part, been stewing over this part for so long. 😭 Personal stuff happened and then writer's block and ugh. Anyways, I hope you like it. 🥺

There you were, outside his flat, standing by the road looking up at his floor. You had to go in sooner or later, but the pit in your stomach made it hard to move any further. You were honestly lucky you made it as far as you did thanks to some encouragement from Tutu. It was strange that he seemed to care so much, maybe he really did. You were sure that by now Layla was in town and inside the flat. The bustling sounds of average Londoners going about their day helped keep you calm (well, calmer), oddly enough.

“He’s not going to come to you, child.” Tutu stood atop the nearby building. “Though knowing him, he might actually.” The god chuckled. “Go. All will be well. You are strong.”

Glancing up at his masked face you can almost feel the reassuring smile hidden behind it. With a nod, you take a moment to collect yourself before starting inside the building. What would you say first? What do you say first? Obviously introduce yourself, or maybe Steven would introduce you. Wait, who’s going to be fronting during this? Are they going to be, what did Steven call it? Co-conscious? How easy was it for them to switch? Steven had mentioned he and Marc could do it pretty effortlessly now that they were closer. You still hadn’t actually seen them switch yet. Since he had come back it had always just been him with maybe a stray comment here or there in Steven’s head from Marc.

The lift seemed to be moving so slowly, compared to the speed of your thoughts racing through your mind. Oh God, would Layla even want you to step foot in the flat? What would Steven do if she refused to talk to you? Surely, she would at least talk…right?

Oh. When did you get in front of his door? Muscle memory must have carried you here. Well, you’re here. You take another deep breath sensing Tutu’s reassuring presence as you lift your hand to knock. That’s when you hear it. Layla is talking, but you’re not sure to who, was it Marc or Steven? You imagine probably Marc, that’s who she’s here to see…unless... You try not to dwell on it and find yourself knocking on the door. Things fall silent in the flat other than a low voice, maybe Marc, and the sound of approaching steps. To say you were relieved when Steven swung open the door with a smile was an understatement.

“Hello, love. Come in, come in. Make yourself comfortable of course. Uh…but first I think it’s best to get the introductions out the way, yeah?” He ushers you in, his hand finding a gentle place on your back out of habit as he introduces you to Layla. She gives you a curt smile, brows lifting slightly as she reaches out offering a handshake. You take it with a nod.

“Steven has said a lot of nice things about you.” She rests her hands in her pockets glancing between you and Steven. “So, I guess now that everyone’s here…we should eat.” She says, trying to change the subject. The air was so thick with tension you weren’t sure you could move from where you stood.

“Oh right, yeah.” Steven says to Layla as she starts into the kitchen to get out plates and cups. He turns to you with obvious concern on his face. “I truly am glad you came. I made your favorite and look…nothing has to happen tonight. I certainly don’t expect things are alright between us, but I’m just happy you’re here. Um, Marc and I, we’ll be switching a bit so just warning you. It’s not scary or anything, I just…well Layla’s seen it so she’s used to it. I just didn’t want you to be surprised.”

Oh, God did you love him. He was so concerned about you being comfortable despite the very uncomfortable situation you all found yourselves in. He had made your favorite dish and was trying to make sure you knew that there were no expectations and that you wouldn’t be surprised by his and Marc’s behavior. You nod letting a small smile appear. “Yeah, alright, Steven. Thank you.”

He smiles back with a nod. He would have usually kissed your head, but he resigned himself to just placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. It didn’t feel right, even with the context of everything happening. The very demure gesture when both of you were very much comfortable with hugs and kisses just felt foreign.

“Uh, Steven? The food?” Layla approaches the cleaned off dinette table and starts setting it as Steven hurries into the kitchen to bring the dishes over.

“Is there anything I can do?” You offer, trying to rescue yourself from the role of knot-on-a-log.

“Yeah, love. Could you get that dish there on the counter please? We’re doing a sort of pot luck style, just get what you like sort of thing.” He set the dish down before going to get the drinks. “Hope everyone enjoys. Marc tried to make one of Layla’s favorites and one of his. I, of course, made a favorite of mine and of yours. We can all dig in! Try out each other’s favorites!” Suddenly, Steven’s face scrunched up like he smelled something bad, but it wasn’t Steven that spoke. The seamless way they switched was something entirely unexpected.

“Hell no, Steven, you can have your vegan food. I’m gonna stick with my corned beef kugel. I won’t make you eat it, so don’t make me eat yours.” He shook his head with a huff as you all gathered around the table and took your seats. Just as seamlessly as Marc appeared Steven was back.

“Oi, rude. I didn’t say you had to, Marc. Just that everyone could if they wanted. He didn’t sleep well, stressed about cooking everything. Told him not to worry, that I could help. He’s a bit crank-“

“I am not cranky, Steven.” Marc returned to the front annoyed as he started to plate his food. You and Layla just watched as the two bickered about the food. Layla watched curiously while plating her own food. She had seen them do this while fighting in Cairo, so fighting amongst themselves in their flat wasn’t too different. You on the other hand tried not to stare. Not because you were weirded out or thought they were crazy. It was just incredible to experience, after all you had never known anyone to do this before.

You remembered how Steven was before he disappeared. Sullen, but still hopeful about life. A dark cloud always not far behind. Steven had been so beat down that he had nearly accepted his lot in life, lonely gift shoppist destined to never be a tour guide or have a partner of any kind, no friends, just unreturned voicemails to his mother and the living statue man. Steven seemed so free now. Free of his past burden, the secret life Marc was keeping from him, he was lighter and smiling much more, much much more. You loved it. Seeing him so happy and full of life. Even bickering with Marc seemed to elicit some degree of joy, poking fun at each other.

Layla had been there for them during such a chaotic time. She was strong after all. Stronger than you. The voice from your dream comes careening back through your mind, “What can you do that she can’t do better?” You close your eyes as you pick at your food, nibbling on the different dishes, trying to block out such thoughts. But what if there was truth to it? What if she really could do better for them than you could? You didn’t realize you had gone still until you felt a hand rest on yours. Following the hand up to its source you’re met with Steven’s concern filled eyes.

“You alright, love?”

You take in a shuddering breath. Were you starting to panic? Oh no, no not now. Not in front of her. “I uh, I’m sorry I just…I’m sorry. I just have to go to the loo.” You get up and try not to seem desperate to escape the room as you enter the bathroom sliding the door shut. Not much privacy, but it’s better than sitting in front of her. Comparing yourself to her. Being judged by her. Leaning against the sink your chest begins to rise and fall with hastened breaths. You try to force them to slow and deepen but they only come out shaky.

She was definitely better for them, both of them, than you were for Steven alone. She was strong and he deserved that. He didn’t need to be coddled or looked after like  before with you. Layla could keep up with him and Marc. But you? Where could you fit in all of this? You can't find a place to fit. This is a different puzzle, one you’re certain your piece didn’t belong to. You look up into the mirror, seeing Tutu’s visage behind you. A gentle hand rests on your shoulder. Again, the mask hiding what could only be a look of sympathy…and perhaps pity.

“This isn’t going to work, Steven. This…whole thing is just…it’s too awkward. I don’t see this lasting long.” Layla says to Steven in a hushed tone, not enough for you not to catch some of it. Somehow your breathing quiets enough for you to listen, Tutu unsurprisingly gone now.

“They’re just nervous. This will work. It’s going to work, Layla.” Steven doesn't look at her as he shakes his head. “It has to work.”

“What? So…are the four of us going to live in the same house, hmm? Go on some weird double date, cause this dinner was going so well.” Her voice dripping with sarcasm as she moves to try and make Steven look at her, leaning forward slightly. “Marc and I haven’t even really started working through our own shit and now this?”

Steven stands up harshly, you imagine from the sound of a chair sliding back suddenly. He squeezes his eyes shut, staving off Marc’s attempts to front. “No, mate, you can talk to your wife after I make sure they’re okay.” This time he does look at Layla, his gaze firm, before starting towards the loo, his steps becoming softer and more careful the closer he gets.

“Love? You alright? You sick? If you need anything I’ll g-“

You open the door miraculously fighting off your tears. Looking up at him you reach out and his hand instinctively finds yours, his other one hesitantly reaches up to your cheek. Before it can make contact you move past him towards the front of the flat starting to grab your bag. You turn and look Layla in the eye, her slightly surprised gaze meets yours. No doubt surprised someone like you had the nerve to even look her way again (or so your brain was telling you).

“I’m sorry.” You find the words spilling out before you mean for them to, if those were even the words you wanted to say. Steven had followed you from the loo watching you wondering what you’d say next. “I’m sorry for…whatever it is you think I’ve done. I truly had no idea about you and Marc. How could I? I know I’m something akin to a homewrecker and I never meant to be. I just…I love Steven. I do, but you are clearly more capable and better suited for both him and Marc. I’m not you, by any-“

“Love, what are you saying?”

“They’re leaving, Steven.” Layla says. You just nod, unable to fight the tears any longer.

“I truly do love Steven, but from what he’s told me about you…you can take better care of both of them. I would just get in the way.” You sniffle, wiping your tears as you turn to start out the door. As your hand grabs the door knob a strong calloused hand grabs your arm. The fiery determination in the warm brown eyes that look at you catch you off guard.

“Now wait, just hold on, just a minute…time out. Now let’s all just chill the eff out, yeah?” He looks from you to Layla. “Yeah, alright, this isn’t ideal. But I love them and they love me, you heard them.” His grip on your arm isn’t painful despite how firm he holds on. Looking at you, his expression begs you to stay, but his eyes burn with a fire you’ve never seen before. “This can work if we are all willing to try. I won’t just give up…not getting rid of me that easily, love.” His focus is drawn away from you and to the mirror next to the door. He must be listening to Marc.

With the room growing quiet, expectant of what would be said next and by who, Layla decides to fill the silence.

“If they want to go, Steven, you can’t make them stay.” She stands up from the table.

Steven, shaking his head as he tries to listen to Marc and Layla, something that never went well in the past, steps away from you.

“What about what I want? I want to be with them. I never wanted to be Khonshu’s avatar, never wanted to have a “sleeping disorder”, and…no! I’m not giving you the body, you can talk with Layla when I’m through!” In the middle of Steven’s rant his head snaps to the fish tank, hands flying to his head, fighting against the pull from Marc trying to take control. Things are escalating and neither Marc nor Steven want the people they love to leave, and Marc knows Layla might.

“I believe I may be of assistance.”

His voice carried over the flat like a blanket, though a little louder than Steven or Layla would have liked.  Both of them flinched, yelping, Steven jumping closer to you almost protectively (though screaming a little louder than he intended), and turning to see Tutu standing there in the middle of the flat. Layla suddenly was no longer in her normal clothes but instead in the gorgeous suit Taweret had gifted to her, holding her two swords out, almost like a reflex.

“Ha! I knew it!” Marc says, pushing to the front. Pointing at Layla, a satisfied grin on his face, confirming that she was still an avatar distracting him enough from the fact that there was a god standing in the flat. Layla looked as embarrassed as she would let herself appear to be as the suit dematerialized leaving her in her casual clothes yet again.

“What? Alright, yes I’m still Taweret’s avatar and because of this suit I’ve helped a lot of people.” She stood firm, justifying her connection with the goddess, her contrapposto posture contradicting her conviction as she defended herself.

“No, that’s great. I mean, Taweret was actually really nice so I don’t imagine she’s like Khonshu…manipulating and threatening,” Marc couldn’t help but smile at her. You recognize that smile. Love. A smile Steven would give you, and you fear that he has given that smile to Layla as well. Suddenly, Marc shifts and his posture changes.

“How?” Steven asks, turning the attention back to Tutu. Talking with gods had become fairly normal for Steven during his recent adventure. “You're the god of tombs and the protector of dreamers. Sorry, but…I’m not sure I understand how you could help.”

“You are correct, but it is my skill set that is more than capable of assisting.” His golden head nods towards Steven, as if to say “I’m at your service”. “I believe my avatar already knows what I intend to offer.”

With that, all eyes fall on you, your back against the door, eyes wide but drying up now that Tutu has appeared. His presence always a comfort to you. “Yeah…I know.”

“Well, what is it, love?” Steven’s brows gather in a myriad of emotions: confusion, curiosity, concentration.

“He intends to put us all into a dream. Any one of us could be the dreamer, but he would give us all the energy to lucid dream…in a space where we all could have a voice.” As if reading the god’s mind, you explain Tutu’s plan. You’d never done this before, created a dream space where you and another could interact. All of Tutu’s missions involved lucid dreaming, entering someone’s dreams and being fully in control of yourself. For the average person lucid dreaming is something you train yourself to do through repetition and practice.

“Yes, within the dream perhaps communication could be more effectively practiced.”

It was worth a shot, if all parties agreed, but something told you that Layla didn’t want to try it, didn’t want this to work. You couldn’t blame her. She was “here first”, and was actually married to Marc. If it were the other way around, maybe you might feel the same? Honestly it’s hard to truly know how you’d react in a situation until you’re actually in it. It’s easy to say “I’d do this” or “I’d never do that”, but when it really comes down to it you never really know.

Steven’s eyes and mouth open wide, mind racing to conclude how this could work, what it would feel like, if this would even be something he (or Marc) would feel comfortable doing. Communication is a little difficult, sure, tensions and stakes are high–not ‘ancient Egyptian god trying to take over the world and eat people’s souls’ high…but still high.

“I…I think…I think Marc and I need to talk…alone. The last time we were…not together…it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, yeah? Don’t think that this would be the same, no, it’s just…I think we should talk about it first.” Steven can’t help how his hands find each other to fidget like he had done so many times before, taking a deep breath he wills them apart. Things are different now, he’s not quite as timid or unsure of himself as he was before Marc, before Cairo. Things are different. He has Marc now and this is the life they wanted to share with each other, but the thought of someone catching a glimpse of one of their dreams, their nightmares…it was scary.

“Of course, Steven…Marc. Both of you. Not sure I like the idea much either but…stranger things have happened, yeah?” Layla’s voice has turned soft and tender. She can only imagine what could be going through Steven’s and Marc’s head. You felt the same. The two of them had been through so much in such a short time. Being vulnerable and open is still so new to them. If they were uncomfortable with entering a dream world, then maybe you all could find another way. You nod with a short agreement to Layla’s words.

The air in the flat was thinning in a good way, from the thick tense air that had begun to settle. You think that maybe it was Tutu’s presence that was facilitating this calm and maybe you'd be right. He’d never admit to such, but it’s welcomed all the same.

Steven looked at you and Layla, his lips curled at the corners into a gentle smile. “Thank you, both of you. I promise, we’ll try and have an answer for you both soon…uh well for all of you.” He turns to Tutu, his smile turning sheepish.

“Take your time. I’ve waited this long, right? I don’t mind waiting…I’ll always wait for you, Steven.” You could feel your body wanting to take his hand, but could you? Would that be weird in front of Layla? This whole night had been weird so what’s one more thing? Before you can worry about that, as if he feels the pull too, Steven takes your hand. When your eyes meet it’s like the warmth from his hand spreads through you, even to your cheeks where a smile has found its way across your lips. This could work. It had to. You didn't really want to walk away. Sure, you still worry about being compared to Layla, but that will just be something to work through…with Steven.

~*~*~*~

After saying your goodbyes, each of you to your respective man, you and Layla share a very awkward elevator ride. If you thought the ride up was slow, this one is moving at a glacial pace, as if the weight of the tension was straining the mechanics. Thanks to the mirror covered walls you steal glances of Layla, seeing how beautiful she is this close, feeling how confidence just falls off of her. You could see why Marc and even Steven could fall for her. Taking a deep breath, you try and keep those dark thoughts from growing again, the last thing you need is to have yet another panic attack in front of her.

“It’s nothing personal, you know,” Layla says, breaking the silence, not turning to look at you but opting to look at you in the reflection facing you both. Your eyes widening a fraction prompt her to continue. “I get it. Finding out there’s ‘someone else’ is…it’s not fun. I mean, every time I think I know him, Marc I mean, it seems something else comes up and it’s like I haven’t known him at all.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. You really could sympathize. You could only imagine what it must have felt like for her, to think that her husband was cheating on her. You and Steven weren’t married, but it still hurt a lot.

You take a moment to mull over her words. What do you even say? “Yeah, it was a not-so-pleasant surprise…guess we’ll just have to wait and see what’ll happen next.” What more was there to say right now? It was clear by how she was talking to Steven that she didn’t think this would work or maybe she didn’t want it to work. There was something that neither of you realized you had in common…persistance. Neither of you were going to give up the man you loved so easily, even in the face of uncharted territory.

Layla’s gaze went from the light indicating what floor you were passing back to you. It was…intense wasn’t the right word. Strong definitely, but there was something else there. You didn’t know how to react, if you should, but you could feel it. Like she was assessing a threat in battle. Your posture straightened, your expression steeling…you couldn’t let her get to you, whether she was meaning to get to you or not. If this was going to work, you couldn’t continue feeling so very small around her. You’re an avatar just like her, you can do this.

“Guess we will.” She said just after the elevator door dinged and opened to the ground floor hall. Her words felt like a challenge. It almost felt like she was expecting you to throw in the towel right then and there. Putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Layla started for the front door without looking back…she didn’t need to. You took a step out of the elevator and watched as she left, looking dazed? Stunned? You weren’t sure what you were feeling, anxious certainly, but there was so much going through your head you weren’t sure what to call it.

Once you were outside the building and headed for the sidewalk, you took a moment to look back at the building, up to the floor where Steven’s flat resides like you had only a hour or so ago. Your hands gathering together to fidget with the other, you could almost still feel Steven’s touch. With a sigh you turn and begin the trek back to your own flat.

Tutu loomed, ever watchful of his avatar, his golden deathmask for a head concealing any expression that might give away how he felt or what he was thinking. However, the god couldn’t hide how his body tensed, the way his hands clenched into fists. Ever so slightly, his head turned to glance behind him in the direction of Steven’s building, though there was nothing to be seen, there was no mistaking what he heard, what he sensed. Not wanting to be too far from his avatar (or at least that’s what he told himsel), Tutu disappears.

The sound of fabric fluttering in the wind was all that could be heard in the light of the crescent moon.

Don't forget to reblog and/or comment! I love to hear from you all!!

taglist: @roseqzpd​ @rosecentaur1916​ @ahookedheroespureheart @sleepyamaya @parkeepingparker @lockleysgrl @marc-spectorr @vermillionsails @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @missdictatorme @bitchyglitterfox @spacecowboyhotch @randomchick546 @teacupcollector @local-mr-frog @stevenknightmarc @ahookedheroespureheart @mccn-bcys @juneknight

[charmixpower]

I just wanna sayyyy

"the term tomboy describes girls who wear unfeminine clothing, actively engage in physical sports, and embrace what are often known as "boy toys" such as cars, or other activities usually associated with boys." From Wikipedia lol

Aisha is a feminine girl who is interested in traditionally masculine hobbies and would literally rather die before saying she's one of the boys. She often wears some of the most feminine outfits in the early seasons! She wears a fur shrug and a mermaid dress when invited to a ball, and she wears some of the most skirts

Musa is a tomboy who went through a "oh I only hang out with guys, they're less drama" in middle school, and definitely wears men's clothes. She also is the only one who seems like she actually cares when the boys talk about their classes outside of "their hot" XD. Though it's not like she's extremely masculine or anything?? She seems to like masculine things just a little bit more than feminine things

The only one Aisha does is engage in physical sports, which is coincidentally the one that Musa seems to not do

If I were to put the winx on a scale of how femme they were, I'd place Aisha just below Flora and Stella

That's all lol

[erinptah]

We're getting a canon 616 version of Layla, let's gooooo Lotta fans out there want to pit Layla and Marlene against each other, but let's be real, they'd be amazing drinking buddies. Trading adventure stories! Comparing cross-dimensional Egyptology notes! Sympathetic venting about their respective Marcs!

[juhbebbie]

Me uh when um me when ok um um literally me when I uh me when Layla el-Faouly

[glouris]

a very short list of characters that deserve to meet eventually:

tighnari and baizhu, who look like characters from a ghibli movie that become best friends over the course of their journey.

itto and kokomi, with every classic disney fairy tale set-up ever. itto gives off a vibe of a princess' side-kick, but also seems like the type to instantly get a crush on kokomi.

layla and rosaria, team rocket looking duo. "you're an interesting critter".

childe and [redacted]

[ex0rin]

ArchaeologistBroker:

Layla’s been tracking a rare artifact for years and has finally found its location - hidden away in one of the Power Broker’s warehouses of ill-gotten goods; little does she know that the infamous Power Broker of Madripoor is actually Sharon Carter, who she’s had run ins with before...

[bisamwilson]

what’s the best superhero film ever made and why is it sky high

[livsthetruth]

It is the epitome of irony how Layla doesn't feel like Jordan is strong enough for her honesty so she's coming up with lies to spare his feelings and leading him on by entertaining something she clearly doesn't want for his sake and wearing that engagement ring all while being unsure of everything that it means and where she's at and what she actually wants. It's almost like honesty when you feel the person can't handle it because they are so happy is hard. Honesty for their sake and your own isn't so easy. Ironic huh?

[livingincolorsagain]

i won

[tanneradell]

ALL AMERICAN UNIVERSE APPRECIATION WEEK [netflix inspo] Day 5: Favorite Season ◊ Season 3

[katvantassel]

Hi pals! I just wanted to make a quick post about the Shipwrecked Comedy Fandom Wiki! In case you didn't know, one does exsist! It's a place where you can learn about Shipwrecked (projects, characters, people, etc). I am currently working my way so very slowly through adding info to pages. But, because it is mostly just me, the wiki is still pretty empty! I've been trying to focus on headless lately. But, because of the way I am currently filling out pages and the sheer amount of info that came with Headless, there is still a lot to be done for even that show!

With that being said, if you want to pitch in, then I would appriciate any help! And!! It doesn't have to be on Headless; it can be on anything! There are also a lot of different aspects like formatting pages, uploading images, adding info, adding refrences, proofreading pages, and more. So, if one thing doesn't interest you, then there is a good chance something else might! If you have any questions, then I'm also more than happy to answer them! If you end up helping, spreading the word, or reading this post, then thank you so much !!

[zetsubobu]

Dumping some of my artworks

Characters in order: Ruby Hoshino, Conan Edogawa and Ran, Undertaker, Layla, my oc Jen

[taiturner]

You know what hurt the most? The fact that you strung me along out of pity 'cause you thought I was too fragile to handle the truth. Yes, I spent some time in a mental facility, but I owned that, and I actually learned a lot from that experience, and I learned a lot from my time on tour.

[simonesjordan]

Patience got stabbed a year ago. Meaning, Layla has been blaming herself for it for an ENTIRE YEAR AND THREE MONTHS. And Jordan had no clue. Not even like oh yeah I think she would be feeling a way about this. NO CLUE. NO IDEA. Ryan spent time with her and noticed first.