#all of these but the first one were in that post of outfits I’ve worn

[doctorsiren]

Trucy in some of my recent outfits (part 4)

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hello, I wanted to ask you for a smut of Ethan Landry, that the reader discovers that he is a ghostface when they are about to fuck but she does not care and they do it anyway.

I have not posted for Scream in a while, my apologies

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Tara called you about the attack at the bodega, you felt a thrill of excitement.

You had seen pictures of past Ghostfaces online and some of them made you want to welcome them with open legs. Sam’s father was a total hottie when he committed the first murders in 1996. There was something about a man with a knife that made your panties dampen.

‘’Are you and Sam okay?’’

‘’Yeah. It was…brutal. And terrifying,’’ Tara said on the other side of the line, her voice still shaky. ‘’I’ve just gotten a normal life back, I don’t want to go through this again. And Sam—’’

A knock on your door stirred you from your phone call. ‘’Sorry, Tara. Eh, there’s someone at the door.’’ You glanced at the door and felt your heart race in your chest. ‘’I’m not expecting anyone though…’’

Tara’s breathing changed, getting traumatic flashes of her first attack. ‘’Don’t open! That’s how I was attacked last year.’’

The chances that she was right were slim, but not impossible. Since you were close friends with Tara, it made you part of the friend group…therefore a possible target. Ghostface could very well be standing on the other side.

You bit your tongue and held back from asking ‘who’s there?’, knowing it was a free ticket to your death. Instead, you check through the peep-hole.

‘’It’s Ethan,’’ you reassured Tara, seeing a curly haired awkward boy instead of the classic halloween mask. ‘’I’ll see you tomorrow before class, okay?’’

You hung up and unlocked your door, letting Ethan in.

‘’What are you doing here? I thought you had a late class tonight,’’ you said, drawing your eyebrows together. ‘’And why are you dressed like you’re going to a funeral?’’ You nodded your head at his unusual all black outfit.

‘’It finished twenty minutes ago.’’ Ethan slung off his backpack and put it down on the floor. It looked very full, how many books did he carry in there? ‘’My class. Not the funeral,’’ he felt the need to precise.

You chuckled, the soft sound echoing in the small apartment.

‘’I can’t stay long, I have an early class in the morning.’’

‘’Are we still having lunch together?’’

Ethan hummed and a rosy blush covered his cheeks as his eyes fell on your nightgown. He had spent the night over a few times, but very little clothes had been worn to bed. This satin number? He had never seen it before. Your breasts were free underneath and falling perfectly and your nipples were slightly poking through the thin fabric. It made his cock instantly swell.

‘’You sleep in that?’’ he asked, pointing at your nightgown.

‘’Yes, I sleep in that.’’

‘’Isn’t it a little dressed up for sleeping?’’

You rolled your eyes at his ‘men’ comment. ‘’Wearing nice pajamas is part of self-care.’’

‘’You wear that every night?’’ You nodded and Ethan fought a whine, jealously beaming at your bed attire. ‘’And the only pictures you send me are your face?’’

‘’If you want ‘goodnight’ nudes, you’re gonna have to earn them,’’ you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking an eyebrow. ‘’What’s your deal, Landry? I’m listening.’’

After a few propositions, you decided that getting railed into your mattress was a good enough deal...for one picture. Ethan’s dick was good, but you weren’t a fool. If he wants more nudes, he’ll have to offer more.

You tilted your head to the side as he kissed and nipped at your neck. No matter how many times you’ve been naked with him, it still shocked you how desperate Ethan was for you and your body. His hands slid up the backs of your thighs, right below the hem of your nightgown. A part of him wanted to tear it off your body, but the other wanted to fuck you with it on. 

You left him to his dilemma and reached for the back of his shirt, trying to yank it off, but Ethan hissed in pain when he lifted his shoulder. He tried to cover it with a cough, but you had already seen the bruise the size of a grapefruit on your boyfriend’s side.

Sitting up and pausing your activities, you looked at him in concern. ‘’How did that happen?’’ You ghosted your finger over the purple-y red skin. 

Did he get into a fight? Did he get jumped after a late class? Campus is not safe at night, which is why you always carry something to defend yourself. But Ethan's not small or weak, the muscles underneath his polos can fight back.

‘’I…’’ Ethan drew his eyebrows, trying to come up with an explanation. ‘’It's nothing. I got hurt doing something stupid at the gym with Chad.’’

Last week? His explanation not making sense. The timeline didn’t add up. 

‘’You didn't have it three days ago when we rudely got interrupted in your dorm.’’

‘’I did,’’ he insisted. ‘’You…you must not have noticed it.’’ 

‘’But it’s so dark. It looks recent.’’ 

Ethan moved so the bruise was out of your sight, then sighed. ‘’Can we go back to kissing? I don't want to talk about this.’’ 

Instead of calming your worries, his words flared them up. ‘’Did someone do this to you? Oh my god, did he attack you too?’’

 ‘’No. It's not Ghostface. I wasn't at the bodega.’’ He took your hands in his to reassure you, but there was a flaw in his statement. 

‘’What do you know about the bodega?’’ you asked cautiously, remembering Mindy's words to be cautious about the love interest. 

His backpack was in the living room. If you went and checked its content, would you find a black robe and a mask, or just books?

‘’Sam and Tara got attacked tonight after leaving the police office, right? You told me while I was in class.’’

You shook your head, slipping your hand from his. You never mentioned the bodega to Ethan.

‘’I did not. I was on the phone with Tara when you arrived here. She was telling me what happened.’’

Ethan's heart raced, realizing he had spoken too much. Panic surged through his veins, urging him to flee, to hide, to deny any involvement, but he knew deep down that it was futile. You knew. 

‘’Was...was it you at the bodega? Did you attack Sam and Tara?’’ 

Your questions were simple, but terrifying from Ethan's shoes. He had been caught, unmasked. There was no escaping the haunting truth. His world would never be the same again. You would never see him the same.

He grabbed his shirt, about to leave, but you pulled him back by his belt and looked up at him with pleading eyes. ‘’Please fuck me, Mr. Ghostface.’’

—

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[eilishalways]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

all you wanna do is kiss me - pt 2

summary: a follow up to the first part 🤭

warnings: alcohol consumption & people being tipsy

a/n: I HOPE THIS ISNT BAD LMAOO

it was two nights after the grammys, and billie was fretting. you had given her your number at the end of the night, but billie was still too scared to text you. she lay in her bed, not knowing what to do. you were very nice about giving her your number - eager, almost, but billie was still too nervous? what if she said something weird? what if you didn’t want to talk to her? there were so many bad scenarios possible.

billie looked at the time. it was 5 to midnight. would you even be up? would you be asleep? were you talking to someone else? she was scared. very scared. she went downstairs and made herself some coffee, and sat at the breakfast table. she contemplated what to do. as she was scrolling through instagram, she saw you had made a new post. two images, both very risqué. the caption was just the telephone emoji. billie blushed, and took it as a sign to text you. so she did.

billie sent you a simple ‘hey’, not expecting you to reply till morning. but within five minutes you responded back with ‘who’s this?’. billie had forgotten that you had only given her your number, and you hadn’t exchanged them.

it’s billie

oh hey!! how are you?

i’m good, hbu?

the conversation continued well into the night. it was 4am when you finally said ‘look, i’ve gtg now. it’s really late.’ billie was sad but responded with ‘yeah it’s super late’. but before you went to sleep you asked her ‘would you like to come round to my house tomorrow? well, technically today.’ billie immediately typed back with ‘i’d love that’

sounds good. i’ll send you my address later. also - bring a swimsuit. we can get in my pool!

that sounds really nice! what time should i be there for?

uhhh, maybe at half 6 or 7? i’ll cook up a bit of dinner.

sounds great! see you then!

despite billie’s coolness over text, she was absolutely freaking out. dinner at your house??? getting in your pool???? she wasn’t able to sleep after that, too nervous to focus on anything else. thankfully she wasn’t doing anything that day, so she could try to figure out what to wear and should she bring anything.

fast forward to midday, billie was eating her lunch, still thinking over what she might wear? a tshirt and jeans? a dress? a jumper? the options were endless, but none seemed right. she couldn’t just ask you what to wear as well - that’d be weird. billie finished her lunch and went back up to her room to decide what to wear. as she opened her wardrobe, something caught her eye. a top she had worn from a concert she did in dublin, with marilyn monroe’s face as a pattern on it. she knew she’d wear it, but she had to find a swimsuit to wear first. she rifled through a drawer until she found a simple black one, nothing too special but nothing too drab either. she took off the pyjamas she was already wearing and stuck the swimsuit on. after that, she put on the top and paired it with some black shorts, nearly replicating the previous concert outfit.

five o’clock came quicker than billie thought, and soon after that she was on the way to your place. although you both lived in LA, you were pretty far from eachother. so billie decided to be safe rather than sorry & left early. when she got to the door, she hesitated to knock. your place was so big & modern that she was slightly intimidated by it. but after a minute of careful consideration, she knocked. you answered the door in seconds, dressed in a short dress. billie’s heart skipped a beat as you led her inside. she followed you to the kitchen, where she smelled the familiar aroma of her favourite noodle soup.

“i followed the recipe from your insta highlight,” you said, “so i hope it’s alright. i’m sure you make it better than i do.” billie thanked you for the meal as you both sat down at the table and began to eat. you talked about a lot of things… the grammys, the media, upcoming tours, etc. billie found herself falling more and more in love as the conversation went on. about 20 minutes later, billie finished her noodles at the same time you did, and again thanked you for it. you smiled and said it was no bother. “how do you fancy getting in the pool now?” you asked. “that sounds really good,” billie smiled, “i’ve got my swimsuit on under this, actually.” your smile lit up even further as you replied “i do too!”

you both got out of your clothes and hopped into the pool. “its so warm.” billie remarked. “yeah, i have heaters in it.” you said smiling. billie looked you up and down, in awe of your swimsuit that made you look like a goddess. you swam around together for a while before you left the pool, saying you’d be back in a minute. “ok, see ya in a minute.” billie replied, wondering what you were doing. billie was surprised when you came back with two wine glasses, and a bottle of a really expensive red wine. “wow,” billie said, “is this for us?” “well, who else would it be for?” you laughed. you poured the wine into the glasses, and handed billie one. she took a sip, and watched as you did the same. “it’s really good,” billie commented, “don’t think i’ve had this before.”

as the evening went on, you and billie drank more wine, and slowly got more tipsy. you smiled at billie as she told you about a song she was in the middle of recording, her face lighting up in excitement. “you’re so pretty.” you said abruptly without a warning. billie blushed. “so are you.” she responded, the alcohol making her more confident. “like- really pretty,” you went on, “super pretty.” billie didn’t know how to respond. being complimented by the woman she had a massive crush on? she was blushing like mad. “i could- i could just kiss you.” you said, a smirk on your face. billie didn’t respond as a shocked expression took over her face. you waited a few seconds before leaning in and kissing her. billie kissed back immediately, setting her glass on the side of the pool. you kissed her passionately, and she did the same. you continued like that for a while, until you were making out with eachother.

“wow.” was all billie said. “you’re a good kisser.” you remarked, a hand still on billie’s cheek. “i- i really liked that. like, really liked that.” billie confessed. “me too.” you smirked, before leaning in to kiss her again.

[gucciwins]

something new

wembley brings love and celebration 

Word count: 5190

A/N: posting something for the first time in months (since april) and I am very excited for you to read.  please let me know what you think. I enjoyed writing and promise I'm already working on the next thing 💜 asks

_____

Wembley Stadium.

It’s a place you had heard many stories about and even attended a show in 2019 as a gift for your father to watch his favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. This entire week has been remarkable, but tonight is the final night. You are here supporting your boyfriend, Harry, and because it’s the last night, there will be a celebration after with the attendance of everyone who knows Harry from family, friends, and workers.

When you first met Harry, you didn’t know he was Harry Styles. Many people would ask how you could not recognize the Harry Styles, but when you met him, he had a full beard and hair full of messy curls. He was dressed in mini running shorts wearing a black jumper and bright running shoes. The reason you spoke to him was his shoes. This brand is known for its style of color combination and lightness in weight, making it the running shoe. You had been debating buying a pair, and his looked well-loved. It wouldn’t hurt to hear an opinion from someone who wasn’t an online user.

“Excuse me,” you called out softly behind him.

He jumps and moves away from the counter. “Sorry, was I in your way?”

You do your best not to melt hearing his deep voice; it was comforting for some odd reason. You smile and shake your head. “No, uh, actually. I’m sorry to bother you. This is actually such a silly question now.” You pause, debating walking away while you can, but he encourages you to continue. “It’s about your shoes. Are the Hoka’s worth it? The online reviews have not been able to convince me, and I’ve read too many articles at this point. Yours look like they’ve seen a few miles,” you point out.

Harry looks down at his shoes and laughs, “so they do.” He meets your eye, stepping closer and away from the counter. “I’m on my fourth pair,” he confesses sheepishly.

You wince, knowing the price for these shoes is not cheap. “Are you constantly running? Are they easily worn out?”

His face reddens, and he fiddles with his necklace. “No, uh…I like having more options to match my outfits.”

You laugh, “that makes sense.” You pause. “Does that mean picking my first pair will be harder? I saved for one pair, and my pocket will hurt if I decide to bite the bullet.”

“I debated a few choices at my computer and ultimately bought two pairs. They were orange and yellow. Bondi are a good first choice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You notice the barista, Lily sliding a coffee on the counter and gesturing it’s his, meaning it’s time for you to go. “Sorry for bothering you, but this was very helpful. Sorry, I never got your name. I’m Y/N.”

“Harry. It was no bother.”

You doubt that.

“Bye, Harry.” You collect your bag and walk out, knowing you were going to overthink buying these shoes, and Harry would never leave your mind.

To no surprise, you’re back at your favorite coffee shop the following day, but this time dressed in your favorite jeans and a cardigan your grandma helped you knit over the summer last year. It’s pastel pink with flowers placed randomly all over. You didn’t dress cute for a guy. You dressed cute for yourself. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Lily is a good friend, and after walking your iced latte to your table, she sat down for a moment.

“Nice conversation yesterday?” She ponders.

“Mhm…nice fellow.”

“Was surprised you bothered him?”

You look at her, confused. “Was it rude of me?”

“Some would say so.”

“I’m confused. We talked about shoes. What did I do wrong?”

Lily stares at you, trying to see if you’re joking. “Y/N, be serious.”

“I am.”

She looks around, leaning closer. “You spoke to Harry Styles. Popstar sensation. Most loved man on the earth.” Lily sees you processing her words, and before you can make rebuttals, she pulls her phone out and shows you a photo of Harry, the guy you met, under a Harry Styles update page.

“Well, shit!”

“Yeah, he at least looks interested in your conversation.”

You roll your eyes, “geeze, Lily, thanks for making it seem like it’s awful to talk with me.”

“Not what I meant,” she apologizes.

“It’s fine. The beard threw me off.”

“He’s a regular here. Comes every other day.” Lily excuses herself needing to get back to work, and with that reassurance, he wouldn’t be coming in; you enjoy your coffee.

You took out your laptop and began to work while keeping an eye on the door. Pretty soon, you got deep into your research and didn’t even notice when the door chimed, signaling someone knew had entered.

“You look really focused. Are you working?” Harry had walked up to your table, startling you.

The truth was you were not working, although you should have been; it was a Wednesday morning. You feel your cheeks warm up, knowing you’ve been caught. “Won’t lie to you, Harry. I’m looking at shoes.” You turn your screen to let him see you have a page pulled up for running shoes with multiple open tabs.

Harry laughs in surprise and gestures to the empty seat to join you. You move your bag, and he happily slides in. You move your laptop closer to him, giving him a better view.

“Those are cute.” You had been looking at a lilac pair.

“Right! But look at these.”

Harry frowns when you switch the screen to display a cherry-pink design. “Now, that’s a tough choice.”

“Ugh…I know. I’ve been alternating back and forth.”

“Okay, close your eyes,” he orders.

You look at him skeptically but do as he says.

“It’s a sunny day which is just a miracle here in London,” you laugh, and he continues. “You’re out on a walk deciding where to go for the day when a stranger points out your shoe is untied. You bend down to tie it. Now what color are your shoes?”

“Purple,” you answer without thinking.

“Well, there you go.”

“That was helpful, Harry. Thank you. Are you a therapist or something?”

“In another life, I would be.”

“Well, what do you do now?” You ask, genuinely interested.

Harry looks at you, confused as if you’re really asking the question. “I sing for a living. Uh…” he feels embarrassed sharing this for some reason. “I go on stage and perform.”

You frown, looking at him closer. “From my eye level, you look like a rugged Harry Styles.”

Harry looks amused. “Rugged. Huh, I thought the beard was good.”

“It is,” you quickly agree. “Sorry, I’m used to seeing videos of him—well, you clean-shaven.”

“I’m on a break. It’s a nice way to let go.”

Right.

You were at a crossroads now because you liked Harry. He was friendly and easy to speak with, but would this new information change everything for you?

“Maybe we can go on a run when your shoes arrive?” Harry suggested.

Your eyes lit up, “really?”

“Mhmm…I like running around the park.”

“Oh, I love finding new trails,” you gushed. “I bet you have found the best-hidden roads.”

Harry shrugs, “we’ll have to see.”

“Uh… I’m sorry for not recognizing you. I don’t know if that was weird or not.” You decide to apologize.

“You’re fine, Y/N. When you came up to me, I thought you wanted a photo, but clearly, my shoes were more interesting,” he teased. “It was nice being just Harry.”

You smile sheepishly at him, “you’re still Harry to me. Feel like you’ll turn into Harry Styles when you’re clean-shaven on stage.”

“Not for a few weeks, then. I have shows in Los Angeles at the end of January,” he tells you because he wants to bask in being just Harry for a few weeks more.

“Oh, fun,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Mhmm…” Harry waits for you to ask more, but instead, you turn the conversation to his workout routine.

From then on, conversation flows easily. You tell Harry you’re the oldest of three. Two younger brothers who live to embarrass you whenever they get the chance but love when you drive them around. You tell him about your job in publishing and that you worked your way up to being an editor. It’s a job you love dearly. Harry lets you ramble on, asking questions and wanting to learn more. He learns you’re allergic to mushrooms. Your first tattoo was a cherry you got at eighteen on an impulsive night out. That you’re the only family member in generations to be born left-handed.

Harry shares that he loves to travel because it gives him a place to miss and come home. He loves his sister and calls her his best friend. That he’s too competitive and loves a long game of Scrabble. He dreams of having a pet dog but does not want to commit when his life is on the road. You mention your family dog, Woodstock, named after the iconic yellow bird from the Peanuts comics. A yellow Labrador who runs up to strangers, always asking for belly rubs. You promise to take him to visit.

Your friendship with Harry grew from there. You would meet most mornings outside the coffee shop for a run and then for a coffee that turned into hours of conversation. You liked Harry and reckoned you liked him more than a friend, but there was no way you would change that dynamic and instead settle to be his friend. When Harry showed up one day clean-shaven, you were taken aback because it made him look younger, and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“Don’t recognize me anymore,” he teases.

“I could spot those green eyes in a sea of people,” you promise him.

Come April, a shift in your dynamic happened. Harry wanted you to work out with him and his trainer. You thought he was crazy, but really Harry was dying for you to meet his friends. They couldn’t stop teasing him that you were made up.

“Harry!”

You both turned and found a man in a white shirt and shorts, similar to Harry, approaching you. Harry welcomed him in a hug before going to stand next to you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Brad.”

Brad shot you a smile, “pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“It’s nice to put a face to a name. He can’t shut up about you,” Brad confesses.

“Oi! Stop that.” Harry frowns, but you can tell he doesn’t mind.

You end up having the worst workout of your life. Brad, not taking a moment of pity for you until he finally called it quits an hour later. You threw yourself on the grass, closed your eyes, and took slow breaths. You heard Harry laughing above you but did not acknowledge him.

“Come on, petal. I’ll buy you a coffee,” Harry offered.

You peeked one eye open, “and a scone?”

“I’ll get you all the goods you want,” Brad chimes in. “You were a trooper out there.”

“Fuck, I never want to work out with you again,” you huff.

“Don’t think we will if he has a say,” Brad points to Harry. “Never seen him so angry.”

“She’s my friend. Didn’t want to explain her death to her parents.”

After that, it seemed you only saw more of each other until one night at your home, Harry made a move you didn’t see coming. After the film finished, Harry turned serious.

“Y/N?”

“Harry, what is it?” You ask, concerned.

“I like you.”

You sigh in relief, “gosh, you scared me. I like you too, silly. You’re my best friend.”

Harry shakes his head. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Heard you loud and clear.”

He sighs, frustrated. “These last few months as your friend have been amazing. I feel so lucky you approached me to talk about shoes. While I enjoy being your friend every time we get together, these feelings I have continue to grow, and I can no longer keep them to myself. I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

You sit there shocked because you never expected Harry to reciprocate your feelings, but he is pouring his heart out for you. “Harry,” you breathed out. “I-I-I like you too. I have for some time, but I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Me either, but Brad said a person as amazing as you would not wait around for me.”

You laugh, “tell him I’m a fool because I think I would have waited a lifetime for you.”

“I know it’s too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend seeing as we haven’t been on a date, but—”

You interrupt him. “Why can’t we say this is our first date? If we think about it, every time we have spent together could be considered a date.”

“Do you end a first date with a kiss?” He asks sheepishly.

“Only if it’s you,” you promise him.

When your wine-stained lips meet his, you feel a wave of peace surround you knowing that it might be soon, but the universe sent Harry to you. He was your other half. He made you better. You pulled him closer, loving the closeness this kiss brought you. Harry sighed, ending the kiss. You went in for a second kiss needing more of him for a little longer.

“Petal, baby. I’m here,” he spoke against your lips.

You giggled out of breath. “Sorry, I think I like you a little too much.”

Harry leaned his forehead against you. “I feel the same.”

“Good, let’s kiss some more and then have a sleepover.”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, petal?” Harry asked.

You frowned, “you slept here two nights ago.”

Harry sighed, “you’re right.”

It wasn’t until a week later you made it official. Life was perfect, and you were happy. Harry knew starting a relationship as he began touring wasn’t the smartest option, but he was close to home and promised to check in at every chance. In each city he visited, he picked up a souvenir for you as a reminder he was thinking of you. It was cheesy, but he wrote you postcards from each city because even though they wouldn’t arrive quickly, they would remind you of him when you did receive them. It only made you like him more and knew you were falling in love quickly. There was no stopping it.

While you joined him at his special show at Slane Castle, you didn’t have the chance to meet many of his family, mainly only the band. They welcomed you with open arms, and how Harry never stops talking about you. It made you nervous. You hoped to live up to his words because these people and his band members meant the world to Harry.

____

Now being here to celebrate four sold-out nights at Wembley, it felt overwhelming knowing Harry’s entire family and friends from his childhood would be here. You’ve known Harry for months but loved him like he’s always been yours. It was a joyous day, but even that wouldn’t take away your nerves for the final night of seeing Harry shine on stage.

“No one is going to believe I didn’t recognize you when we first met,”  you tell him as the driver drove down a road that arrives at the back of Wembley, away from the crowd.

“Course they will.”

You give him a deadpan look, “you’re basically the face of the UK. A prince, some would say.” You sit up and clear your throat. “Oh, how’d we meet. Well, I met him at a coffee shop and asked him about his shoes.” You rolled your eyes, “sounds fake to me.”

“Good thing it’s the truth. Plus, I thought you were cute. Would have never worked up the courage to walk up to you, though.”

“Stop. You’re only saying that.”

“Nope, I mean it. Brad and the band like you.”

“I hope they do,” you muttered. “Only people I’ve met now. I’m meeting everyone.”

“You met Mum and Gem,” Harry reminds you. “Spent time with them for three nights.”

You sigh because, for a moment, you feel Harry doesn’t understand how overwhelming this is. Everyone here knows Harry. They know Harry from Holmes Chapel, and they know the amazing person he is. You feel happy to know and love him, but they’ve got a lifetime of Harry, and you’ve got months. It differs for everyone because you would move mountains to ensure he was happy. Except, everyone doesn’t know that. They don’t know you.

“Y/N, petal will you look at me,” he begs softly.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to meet his emerald eyes. Harry takes in the worry shining bright, and smiles. “Petal, I love you. I know you love me. You remind me every moment we’re together and when I’m away. I don’t doubt it. My family knows you, maybe not your physical form, but they have heard stories and seen endless pictures. They will love you because I love you. If you get overwhelmed, you can always sit back and watch, they’ll understand. Most importantly, I will understand. I wish I could hold you as Mum introduces you to everyone. I told her to hold off, but she’s excited. Brad will be on the floor, and I know you enjoy that. You’re in safe hands.”

“I love you. Thank you. I know it’s your day, and I’m making it all about me.”

Harry shushes you, “hey, hey. We’re a team. Your feelings are just as important as mine. Now give me a kiss.”

You loved him, simple as that. He was the missing piece in your life.

___

The show was like no other. Harry, from the moment he got on stage, radiated happiness. The fans were the loudest they had been all week, filling you with so much joy. Anne told you to join her at the family box, but you decided to be on the floor as close to Harry as possible by the Jonny pod; you noticed Harry favored the side more, knowing his dear friend was in the audience tonight. From surprise songs to dancing and Mitch receiving his Grammy, you knew it would be a night you would never forget. As Harry began his encore with “Sign of the Times,” the rain started falling, and so did your tears. The fact that over 90 thousand people were here for Harry said enough. They chose to spend their evening with him, and he delivered to make it memorable.

You didn’t even notice that Brad captured a photo of you staring at Harry on stage with a giant smile and hands over your heart you would only see later when Harry made it his lock screen. Harry thanks the crowd for a magical night stating over and over again that he’s never been happier.

Brad wraps an arm around you and walks you towards Harry, who’s sharing long hugs and meaningful words with his bandmates. This is the man you love, and there’s nothing you’d change about it. You followed Harry to the dressing room, wanting a moment alone before the madness. Harry bounces around quickly to change, removing the overalls and shimming them down his waist. He slips on shorts, throws on a random shirt, and puts on his new Adidas Love on Tour sweater with his initials.

You lean against the door admiring him in all his glory. He didn’t bother for a shower, too eager to see everyone.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper. “I know it might not mean much, but I am.”

Harry pauses, finishes tying his shoe, and walks over to you. He stops before you, his hands finding a home on your cheeks. “It means the world. Don’t ever think it doesn’t. We might only have been together for two months, but my heart has loved you my entire life. You being here is enough. I could feel your love from the stage.”

He connects your lips together, and you melt against him. Harry breathes life into you, and you never want him to stop. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Harry. So much.”

“Good. Let’s go mingle.” You move away from the door and make your way outside when he tugs you back in. “Forgot one last thing.”

He hurries over to his bag, pulls out an identical sweater, and hands it to you. You accept it moving and look it over. Your eyes quickly find your initials on the right side, similar to his.

“Harry—this isn’t necessary.”

Harry shrugs, “it was your idea.”

You don’t fight him as he slips off your red leather jacket and helps you slip on the thin material. He fixes the collar making sure none of your hair is tucked under. Harry decides you look good, giving you a pat on the butt. “Now we can go.”

Harry held your hand as you walked over to the area Jeff had set up for the celebration. He mentioned there would be another location later in the night, but it would be good to let the crowds outside die out. On your walk over, Harry told you about outfits and signs he saw in the crowd. How overwhelmed he came when the rain came down. He felt at home.

You expressed how much fun you had, told Harry how Jeff and Tommy taught you the boot scoot during “Treat People,” and assured him many videos of your failed attempt were taken. Harry paused outside the door where you could hear the loud chatter, and you knew what was waiting for you behind those doors. Harry shoots you a look, and you give him a reassuring smile letting him know it’s okay to go in.

The cheers are loud when the man of the hour walks in. Everyone was quick to gather around him. You try to sneak away, but his grip on your hand stays tight. Every person who thanks him, he makes sure to introduce you.

“Love, go celebrate. It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you tell him in a low voice.

Harry shakes his head, instead kissing you and pulling you along to meet and chat with new people. You felt a bit overwhelmed, but everyone has been so sweet. They asked where you were from? Scotland. What was your job? An editor. How did you meet? Coffee Shop. How proud were you? Immensely.

You kept trying to hang back, but Harry seemed to notice when you drifted away. He would kiss you and ask for your input in the conversation. You told him you were getting a drink and would be back momentarily, except you got a vodka cranberry and hid in a corner. Harry found you when your drink was half gone.

“Babyyy,” he called out. “Missed you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he wrapped himself around you. He moved you away from the wall, making you face the crowd, his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You lean against him, happy to be wrapped in his arms, feeling safe. “I love you, bub.”

Harry takes a sip of your drink and hums at the bitterness of the cranberry. He knows you’re a social drinker because it allows you to relax and not be as anxious. You and Harry get lost in your world as you let him talk your ear off. He tells you about people around the room, who they are, and how they’ve helped them. Surprisingly, Harry can name everyone in the room, though it shouldn’t shock you much. It’s just the type of person he is.

Your boyfriend is an affectionate person. He loves having a hand on the small of your back or your hand in his. He wants to be close because he says he wants makeup when he’s away. Some would say it makes him look clingy, but lucky for you, you love his touch; it’s comforting. You could feel his smile against your skin as he planted kisses on your face.

Even while in your corner, people come up to you. When they see Harry begin to kiss your shoulder or whisper in your ear, they excuse themselves. You can’t help but feel you are keeping Harry from celebrating with everyone, not realizing he’s happy to celebrate with you in his arms.

“Harry! Sue!” Is yelled from across the room. You see a short, dirty-haired blonde yell and wave for him, but Harry is too busy peppering kisses all over your neck to realize.

“Bubby, love. They’re calling for you.”

He hums against your neck. “I’m perfect here.”

You sigh because the yelling continues, and you’re starting to feel overwhelmed because he’s not celebrating. Instead, Harry is ensuring you’re not nervous, which seems like the most boring job in the world. He should be taking shots with friends and telling stories about the last four nights.

“Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” you promise him.

Harry tightens his hold on you, “baby, you sure?”

“Yes, no go. I’ll even bring you a drink.”

“Te–”

“Tequila neat,” you tease. “I know you.”

Harry pecks your lips once, twice, and a third time before making his way across the room, but not before looking over his shoulder one last time at you. You shoot him a wink and exaggerate, looking at his bum and making him laugh. He moves his hips a little extra just for you. As Harry easily falls into the conversation, you use this moment as an opportunity for a breather.

You were alone for around five minutes when you heard footsteps coming your way. You were in a corridor that led you out to the stage if you continued walking down but stopped halfway, knowing no one would come this way. You were wrong.

Harry is who you expected to see, but to your surprise, it’s Gemma, his older sister.

“Hi,” you greet softly. The conversations with Gemma have been short, but from what you can tell, she’s wise beyond her years and always ready to listen.

“You okay?” She asks, straight to the point.

“A bit loud,” you gesture towards the hallway where the music can still be heard.

She nods, “I get that.” Gemma looks around before moving to stand next to you shoulder to shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asks again.

You sigh, “I—i-i.”

“A bit much for a family gathering.”

“A bit,” you exhale, knowing Gemma understands what you might be feeling.

“It’s the perfect opportunity, I feel. I did forget how overwhelming it was. I don’t even remember my boyfriend’s first family gathering.”

“Are you saying I won’t remember this in a few years?”

“Oh, you’re never forgetting tonight.” She smirks, “unless you keep drinking.”

You scrunch your nose at the thought. “Better not.”

The two of you stand in silence, and you know it’s because Gemma is giving you a minute to gather your thoughts.

“I just—I love Harry. I do. I hope you don’t doubt that, but I don’t know how to celebrate when you’ve all been here for him every step of the way. Year after year.”

Gemma deflates, “oh, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Gemma cuts you off.

“It’s okay,” she assures you. “It’s difficult because of his job, not because of who he is. But trust me when I say he loves you.” Gemma’s words are firm, and you believe her. As an older sister, you would do anything to protect your siblings but never lie to someone important.

“Harry talks about you every chance he gets. Did you know Y/N ran a marathon? She’s swam with sharks in a reservation center. Y/N’s CPR certified. She edited and helped publish five number-one books this year,” Gemma rambles off. “We all know so much because he’s proud and wants to share it with those close to him.”

“I-I didn’t know.” You let all of this process, but it’s a shock because some of the things Gemma listed mean nothing, but clearly, to him, mean everything.

“Everyone in that room,” Gemma points over her shoulder, “knows who you are and what you mean to him.”

“Everyone?” You whisper. It doesn’t feel real. You’d never been so loved, and it might be why you’re feeling overwhelmed because he wants to bask in your love. It’s not a show; it’s simply his way of showing he loves you in front of everyone he cares about.

“Celebrate how you want but know all we want is to see him happy. It’s clear as day that you make him happy. This is the happiest I’ve seen him, and it’s because of you. Maybe even happier than selling out Wembley.”

“Thank you, Gemma.” She hugs you tight, and it’s so familiar yet different from Harry’s. His is light and full of love, while Gemma’s is tight and warm. “He wrote you a beautiful song.” You’re referring to “Sweet Creature,” which he dedicated to her tonight.

“It’s a special one. Don’t worry. I hear you’ll be getting yours soon enough,” she teases. “I’ll see you inside.”

A few seconds later, someone else joins you. It’s as if your body knows who it is without seeing them because you feel the familiar flutter in your stomach as his smell wraps around you.

“Baby, where did you go?” Harry whines. Baby is a term of endearment that comes out a lot when he’s had more than one to drink. It’s your favorite during these times.

“I’m here,” you open your arms, and he happily falls in your embrace. “I’m proud of you, love.” You run a hand through the back of his head, keeping him close.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Like really proud. You’re so loved. What you do is incredible. I feel so lucky to be able to love you.”

Harry pulls back, and you see his beautiful eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall soon. “I love you.”

You press your lips against his and put all your love into the kiss. You wish you could spend the rest of the night kissing him, but there is more celebrating to do. Harry doesn’t let you pull away, instead deepening the kiss. You melt against him, forgetting your worries and enjoying this moment with him. A moment only for the two of you to remember.

“Let’s keep celebrating, my love,” you whisper against his lips.

“Still nervous?” He checks.

“Only a smidge.”

Harry smiles, “that’s okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

“You won’t let go?”

“Never,” he promises.

As you return to the party holding tight to his hand, he asks an important question. “Can I keep kissing you?”

Your laugh rings loud, echoing through Harry’s heart. You bring your hand up to rest at the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. “As much as you like.”

[yukoii1]

Can you do chubby reader x toji who loves to workout

·˚ ༘ 𝑰𝒏𝒇𝒐 ➪ fluff, small smutty activity’s, body worship, gymrat!toji, chubby!reader, black!reader

༉‧₊˚. 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 toji is a gym rat. he loves working out but It upsets you because he never spends time with you. you wanna scold him, but end up getting distracted and he apologizes In a different way.

ミ★ 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆. hello my loves! jus wanted to say, I am so grateful for all the loyal supporters and love I’ve been getting and wanted to announce were so close to 1k followers! once we do manage to get to the goal I wanna do something special for you all. I want to do a little give away type thing. I’ll make a post following up on what It Is but other than that I hope you guys enjoy the story!

❝ 𝑮𝒀𝑴 𝑹𝑨𝑻 ❞ －𝑻𝑶𝑱𝑰 𝑭𝑼𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑼𝑹𝑶. 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕

₊˚ෆ 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 - toji was an absolute gym rat. he loved working out, day and night he was always In the gym doing his work out routines, you would get lucky enough If you see him on the couch one day eating chips scrolling through his phone but other than that he's always In the gym. you do scold him every chance you get when you see him but you can never stay too mad at him considering he would always distract you by flexing his chest. It was 7:15pm, normal time you would start cooking dinner but you still haven't seen toji all day, since 12 this afternoon matter a fact. you haven't spent not one time with him. he told you before 3 he would be back to the bedroom to lay with you since It's your day off from work but you've been by yourself ever since, you barley get to see him considering your packed work schedule  and his. you huffed pulling the blankets off your body walking out the shared room to go down to the gym. when you walked past by the gym, you could see him doing sit ups with his headphones on, back full of sweat as they flexed every sit up he did. you would say you had forgotten all about scolding him.

normally you would go off on him for always working out and making promises he never keeps but this time you stayed quiet and watched him. the small grunts and groans that left his lips every sit up made you bite your lip. the way his hair stuck to the back of his neck as his muscles twitched and flexed— fucking hell! could you blame yourself though? you had a hot boyfriend who has everything perfect about him. his back, his abs, his arms, his face.. how did you bag him? you always asked yourself why toji decided to go for you Instead of some other girl. but when you confessed to him and asked why he picked you, his answer had shocked you. from glances you would honestly think toji's type Is a skinny, long haired chick but In reality his type were bigger chubby girls, when he told you, you didnt buy It and thought he was messing with you till he had that look on his face. the look that tells you he's telling the truth. your eyes started to trail up to his bare arms watching as they flexed.

toji must've felt a presence behind him by the way he stopped his set, taking his headphones off turning his head over his shoulder to see you leaning against the frame. he clicked his tongue spotting you staring at him and the outfit you were wearing. It was an outfit he had bought for you on your birthday, which was only to be worn In the bedroom for his eyes only just In case company came over but obviously not. by the looks of It, It seemed you were trying to tease him but In reality you decided to wear It because It was the first thing you saw, and you thought he was going to be In the bed but he wasn't. so you didn't bother to change not thinking much into It till toji got up from his sitting position walking towards where you were with a grin on his face, your eyes followed each step of the way, keeping your focus on his with arms crossed. even If he has you distracted right now doesn't mean you forgot.

toji could know he did something to upset you by the small pout on your face as you looked at him. he tilted his head with a mocking pout of his own, "why you so pouty, hm?." he asked with a hand grabbing your jaw tilting your head a bit, you rolled your eyes scoffing. "you know why." he did but he wanted you to say It, toji shrugged his shoulders shaking his head. "I don't If you don't tell me sweetheart." cock sucker. you huffed. "why didn't you come up like you said you were?." he only shrugged, with a grin. "don' know." he wasn't really paying attention to what you were saying and only focusing on the night gown you had, he knows he messed up by not fulfilling his promise but right now he couldn't help but just stare and get lost Into his own little world.

you could see that he was staring at you, feeling slightly nervous under his stare. was It the outfit you were wearing? was It your stomach showing? so many questions went through your head as to why he was looking at you, maybe he's trying to throw me off. you furrowed your eyesbrows, "don't think you can-!" you went to question It but got interrupted by your gasp feeling him lift you, your heart started to pound against your chest, placing your hands on his shoulders as he took you somewhere, "toji! I wasn't done talking!." he didn't even mind your complaining as he kept walking to the shared room, pecking at your shoulder, squeezing your thighs. "be quiet." this man gave no shit about what you complain about, honestly he didn't even pay attention to you hitting his back to make him out you down. he only kept walking.

toji pecked and nibbled at your shoulder leaving small marks on your skin, opening the door with his foot, laying you on top of the bed towering over you trailing his eyes down the night gown you had on. the strap on your shoulder came lose slightly exposing your breast as you looked confused under him. fuck. you looked so cute, "so..fucking cute." he mumbled to himself leaning down towards your face to peck your shoulder trailing up to your neck then your lips kissing you rough. your eyes went wide but started to close leaning Into the kiss with a small moan, you were getting lost Into his mouth till you realized he was winning!. you grumbled pushing him back, hearing an annoyed sigh. "I'm not done with you yet." you said with a stern look, he rolled his eyes not paying any mind leaving down to kiss your neck, trailing across your t-bone to your breast, kissing down your stomach hearing your breathes go unsteady, you clenched the bed sheets feeling your pussy clench each peck he gave your stomach, "go on." you gulped down a giant lump In your throat clearing your throat.

you tried to talk but only gasps came from your mouth feeling his finger press against you, he raised a brow with a hum. "quiet now, hm?" you didn't answer. you could only focus on his lips that's were placed on your stomach, he always loved kissing your stomach. leaving his marks on them, groaning each time he would. he chuckled hearing your breathes Increase trailing your hand to his hair, raking your nails through his scalp. "why don't I apologize In another way? would you forgive me then?." he chuckled but groaned feeling you pull his hair staring at him with a glare.

"jus fuck me already."

[atlaculture]

Cultural Fashion: The Razor Pt. 2 - Clothing

Since the girl representing the archetype of “The Razor” has yet to be named, I’ll simply be referring to her as “Razor” for this post.

While previous Avatar Legends characters I’ve analyzed have designs that allude to less prominent cultures in ATLA, Razor’s design calls back to a more popular source of inspiration for Avatar: China’s Tang Dynasty (618-907).

Her dress comes from the Tang Dynasty--- although it’s modified to accommodate her bending. Like the women in the painting, she wears a qixiong ruqun (齊胸襦裙) or “chest high robe-skirt”. As the name implies, the flowing skirt is worn at the chest and over the robe. It’s held in place by a sash and cord combo. The final component of the outfit is the thin scarf wrapped around the arms called a pibo (披帛).

As you can see, Razor’s outfit takes some artistic liberties with its inspiration. The sash is tied under the bust, rather than over the bust, allowing the top of the skirt to peek out; this gives her a more empire waist silhouette, rather than a traditionally tubular one. Her skirt is ankle-length rather than floor-length, for ease of movement. Her pibo is weighted at both ends, which just looks awesome. Maybe she can use the rings as weapons? Like slapping people with them. Finally, and most obviously, her sleeves are cut short to accommodate both her disability and her bending ability. Overall, I really enjoy her design.

According to Avatar Wiki, Razor was raised to be a weapon, a tool for her master to use against enemies. But she saw a better way forward, and now seeks to make up for the terrible things she has done and was taught to do. When you take into consideration both her backstory and character design, she gives off the impression of a deceptively cultured assassin-type. I also just love the contrast between her brutish body language and her delicate dress.

I actually think her character embodies the spirit of the Tang Dynasty really well. It was a time of much opulence and high fashion, but it was also a period of relative freedom and empowerment for women. It was during this dynasty that China saw its first and only sovereign female emperor, a princess became a successful general to an army of 70,000 men, rough contact sports like polo were all the rage with noblewomen and women’s social & political rights were expanded. It just goes to show that a love of beauty and fashion doesn’t invalidate a woman’s strength and competence.

[heavenlycloud]

vintage chanel: jennie x fem! reader

warnings: suggestive, swearing

a/n: i was gonna post this the night of the event but school and time got away from me so here it is a few days late. there might be some typos.... sorry

the met gala wasn’t a new occurrence to you after your first invitation when you were freshly eighteen. back then, your attendance made headlines as you had become the youngest guest to attend that year. even more headlines followed when you were handpicked by karl lagerfeld as a muse for the house of chanel. over the years you became a known figure within the fashion industry while dominating the western music industry. the level of success you’d reached in a few short years was recognized by numerous awards, accolades, and several gold and platinum album titles to your name. even with the musical success, you never forgot that fashion was really your claim to fame many years ago. hence why you graciously accepted a met invitation every single year. 

to many, the met gala is a star studded night where you get gussied up in clothes from top designers in high fashion, meet other A-list celebrities, and do whatever the hell you do inside because nobody seems to know. in reality, it was waking up at six in the morning then getting ready all day, walking a red carpet, answering the same 5 questions from reporters who hopefully remembered your name, then sat through what felt like the world’s longest and most awkward dinner. the only highlight of the event was finding out that one of your friends was only two tables away from you, rather than the usual five or six. overall, the real fun started at the afterparties which you always ended up being roped into attending then drunkenly leaving hand in hand with some supermodel you met that night. 

you sat in a suite on the 15th floor of the iconic Mark Hotel as your stylists, makeup artists, and management and PR team bustled around to make sure you were ready for tonight. the theme was Karl Lagerfeld, the designer that picked you as his muse years ago. your outfit was a handpicked piece designed by the esteemed german courtier. originally worn by linda evanglista in the Chanel Ready to Wear Fall/Winter 1991-1992 in Paris Fashion week. the entire morning was doing small interviews for Vogue and other fashion media outlets that get most of their press from this event. there was a smile on your face as you told the camera before you, “i’m super excited for this evening because i don’t think many people know i’m attending the event. i’ve been trying my best to keep it on the down low, but i think people are going to figure it out before i get to the carpet.” there was a small laugh followed by your words that trailed off on the end, specifically because you knew of a certain someone that was hoping just this once you wouldn’t show. 

“unnie, did you see the headlines?” the thai idol asked with urgency in her tone that made her member’s heart race. the older woman hesitated to answer, but she went silent as she read the headline that appeared over the banner at the top of her screen:

UPDATE: Y/N TO MAKE APPEARANCE AT THE 2023 MET GALA

jennie stared at her phone and lisa cautiously prompted, “are you okay?” jennie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before saying, “why wouldn’t i be? it’s whatever. she gets invited every year, i don’t know why this would be any different.” she paused for a moment then abruptly commented, “i have to go. i’ll talk to you later.” the younger woman gave a weak smile, “okay bye, i’ll talk to you later.” in a sudden bout of frustration jennie tossed her phone across the room onto the bed then brought her hands to her forehead as she mumbled, “fuck…” there were light taps on her hands as her makeup artist silently chided her not to mess up her perfectly made up face. for the next hour she remained silent until she had to put on a smile for the cameras and fans that swarmed the porte-co·chère of the hotel down below. 

the car ride to the carpet was dead silent as jennie tried to soothe her nerves before enduring the next eight to ten hours on her own. through the deeply tinted glass jennie could see her security team waiting for her to step out of the car. one of the staff members assigned to her for the evening warmly assured her, “take as long as you need, miss kim.” she gave a curt nod and a hushed thank you before holding the door handle for a moment. one of the security guards pulled open the door and held a hand out to assist her out of the large black SUV. 

cameras flashed and fans shrieked and screamed as they desperately tried to earn jennie’s attention from their barricaded sections that flanked the entrance of the carpet. the idol waved and smiled for the cameras as she’d been taught to so many years ago, her smile turning genuine when she laid eyes on a familiar petite brunette. the young influencer passed jennie a mic and asked enthusiastically, “how are you?” with her eyes glued forward for a moment too long, jennie replied, “i’m everywhere. this is my first Met…” emma asked in slight surprise, “first Met?” the korean singer nodded and continued answering the quick questions on her current feelings. she laughed as the younger girl somewhat awkwardly yet genuinely shared the same thoughts of being nervous and anxious before such a large event. for just a moment jennie glanced to her right thinking she saw someone she knew. her blood ran cold when she realized she did know the person- you looking her way with the same narrowed gaze that dripped of venom and honey that had her spellbound from the first time. 

a smirk tugged at the corner of your lips after seeing the affect you still had on her after she supposedly stopped caring about you. for the fun of it, you shot her a wink before turning around and kissing the cheek of the interviewer that was speaking with you. jennie flinched ever so lightly then laughed awkwardly in a futile attempt to play it off. she quickly thanked emma for the interview then rushed off to the usher that was to guide her along the carpet. the remainder of the carpet went by in the blink of an eye. largely in part to the fact that she disassociated for the entire thing, only regaining awareness of her surroundings as she was ushered inside. 

jennie followed the usher to her table where her placecard was sitting daintily with her name handwritten in elegant calligraphy. she sat down gracefully beside another supermodel she’d yet to learn the name of then introduced herself politely. as more guests filed in, she couldn’t help but scan the room in search of you. the open seat beside her with a placecard that read a simple RESERVED made her stomach twist into knots. underneath the white tablecloth she bounced her leg anxiously, desperately hoping nobody around her noticed the soft clicking sound around the table. another usher made their way to her table and she took a breath of relief when she saw dua lipa approaching with a warm smile. however, the feeling was short lived when the albanian singer bent down and kissed her cheek with a slight pout. she explained quietly, “hi love, i wanted to come over and tell you myself that they’ve moved my seat this evening. but i’ll catch up with you later, alright?” jennie tried to answer as quickly and politely as possible to get in her question of who was taking dua’s place. 

the question was answered before it could even leave jennie’s lips when she heard you speak from over her shoulder, “thank you so much for understanding, babes. have a great evening and we’ll chat later!” you sat down beside jennie and greeted the other guests at your table which you were seemingly familiar with to some extent. the idol shifted beside you and you gave her what appeared to others as the warmest and welcoming smile, “jennie it’s been a while hasn’t it?” the woman saw through you as if you were made of glass, yet she refused to cause a scene at the Met Gala of all events. so, she plastered on a smile and hugged you back, “it has, how have you been?” she humored you in conversation and did her best to wiggle her way out of exclusively talking to you by roping the other table guests into the conversation. however, no matter how much she tried, you always managed to turn the topic exclusive to the two of you. jennie wondered how nobody else around her could see the lack of genuinity in your eyes, that you were intentionally toying with her like some game. but then again, why would anyone suspect you, a known sweetheart, of such a thing. 

you smiled to yourself as you did small things to get under jennie’s skin and give her the attention you craved. wether it be a hand trailing along her thigh or lightly hitting her foot with your own beneath the tablecloth. seeing her clenched teeth and smiles that faltered for just a split second were all the reward you needed to spur you on further. the moment that you all were dismissed to look around the museum exhibit, jennie was on her feet and eager to leave your side. you made no effort to follow her immediately, instead you found a handful of familiar faces and did your rounds to those you both did and didn’t care for…you did have a reputation to uphold anyway. an hour passed and you finally had eyes on jennie once more, she stood alone in front of a mannequin with yet another vintage Chanel piece. you watched her from afar, taking in the way she stared at the clothing with a genuine admiration and curiosity. the sight made your heart flutter as she reminded you of the first time you both met years ago. 

the feeling of warmth that bloomed in your heart ran cold when you saw some random man approach her. from his outfit alone you knew that he was someone’s plus one or an influencer that purchased his own ticket for the event. the way he stared at jennie with almost a sense of hunger and desperation made your skin crawl. you slowly made your way across the floor, wondering if she would actually need someone to intervene. her smiles were polite but you could see the way her eyes flitted from his with nearly every word she spoke as if she was searching for an escape. the stiff mannerisms of hers came to a halt when the guy attempted to place a hand around her waist, making her flinch out of surprise. without hesitation you rushed to her side in less than three strides. 

you slipped your arm behind her waist with ease, the familiar feeling bringing a genuine smile to your face. turning towards her you kissed her cheek, “hey beautiful i thought i lost you back there.” she looked up at you, a flash of fear still lingering in her gaze prompting you to pull her closer to your body. the guy in front of her tried to continue his conversation but you cut him off, “she’s with me. i expect that you’ll be returning to your table now, yes?” if looks could kill the young man would have been gone yesterday. he grew nervous with you, of all guests, standing over him, so much so that he couldn’t even utter an actual apology before literally running off. 

jennie continued to stand in your hold with her hand toying at the heavy gold belts wrapped around your waist. you remained silent as you lightly took her shaking hand into your free one, “jen?” she continued to stare at the same spot on the ground as you prompted once more, “jennie?” the idol snapped out of her trance and pulled away from you, “thank you for that…” she watched as your features softened in a way that made her heart beg that she cave into you and give you the type of attention she used to. your tone changed with the next words you spoke, this time they were genuine, the same way you used to speak to her, “yeah…of course, Nini.” her heart raced at the last word, so familiar and nearly made her crack but she internally put her fist down. she wasn’t about to start this, not now and especially not here. she backed away from you as if you were a burning flame that was moments from losing control. the singer straightened her posture then said coldly, “don’t call me that.” she turned on her heel then hurried off to go talk to another A-list supermodel that probably didn’t remember what group she was actually from. 

throughout the entire rest of the night jennie avoided you like the plague, no eye contact, no words exchanged, it was like you were invisible to her. the main event ended and the after parties were getting ready to begin. one of your managers found you and rushed you to meet your stylists where you were changed for the second look of the night. keeping with the theme, you wore a long sleeved white tweed top, black pants, and a large gold chanel belt. the look was worn by beverly peele in the chanel spring 1993 show. chunky gold bracelets adorned your wrist while the belt quite honestly felt like wearing a weighted hula hoop. nevertheless, you were guaranteed to be the talk of the night once again. 

TipToe by Jason Derulo blasted over the speakers in one of the many rooms within the multi-million dollar mansion owned by some uppity tycoon on the Upper East Side. the lights were off with the exception of burnt orange neon lights that barely lit a damn thing in the room. despite the windows being open, the entire house felt hot as hell with all the sweaty bodies of drunk and high supermodels, singers, and A-list actors. you watched who danced alongside you, trying to avoid meeting strangers with wandering hands and lustful gazes. as you skimmed the crowd around you, a tall blonde dragged a small black haired woman to dance with her. once again your interest peaked at seeing jennie in the perfect place for you to make another move. 

the bass of the music thrumed throughout your entire body as you danced your way over the now cluster of girls with jennie. you threw an arm around one of the women’s shoulders and shouted over the music, “Kenny!” the supermodel turned to face you and her face lit up as she pulled you into a hug, “Y/N!” jennie slowed her movements to the beat of the music as she watched you talking to the girl next to her. the nerves only lasted a minute because a second later she was pressing herself against Hailey Baldwin with her head resting on her shoulder and wrapping the blonde’s arm tighter around her torso. the unsuspecting model simply laughed and kissed jennie’s temple as she swayed to the beat jennie set. just as you began to look away, jennie opened one eye and smirked when she saw your dissatisfied expression  and pretended you were invisible all over again. 

you grew impatient and slowly slipped between Kendall and Hailey which they welcomed without question. jennie tried to keep Hailey against her but your arm slid between their bodies and Hailey switched positions with you to dance with Kendall. jennie began to make a move to leave but you pulled her back flush against your front. the gentle touch of your fingers ran down her arm making goosebumps form on her skin. you chuckled lowly and said into her ear, “come on now, dance with me.” the warmth of your body against hers was a feeling she thought she’d forgotten but now it was as if you’d never left. she turned to face you, gaining some control back before she attempted to make her leave, “i don’t want to dance with you.” her voice was saying one thing while her mind and body said another prompting you to ask, “are you sure because the way you’re holding my arm on your waist is telling me otherwise.” 

jennie glared at you through those cat-like, chocolate brown eyes and thick black lashes with a gaze that made your heart race. she watched as your eyes crawled over her body with such a hunger that she would have gagged if it was anyone else. you pulled her closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies and for just a moment she almost gave into your touch. once again she backed up and swallowed thickly, “i’m doing just fine with my friends here.” you stared at her unfazed then glanced over to Kendall and Hailey who were lost in their own offbeat two step to Alone by Kim Petras. god, jennie wished she could kiss wipe that stupidly perfect, coy smirk off of your face. a few people around you both noticed that you were no longer dancing and instead standing in a confrontational position before jennie. she looked at the hand she was still holding to her body and sighed as she turned back around, dancing against your front, “i’m just not trying to cause a scene.” you laughed lowly into her ear, “whatever you say, angel.” 

you held her slender waist to your body and the hand that rested by her leg into your own, lacing your fingers together with a smile. jennie slipped her hand out of yours and you tsked quietly, “and about your friends- you know goddamn well none of these girls give a fuck about you, they just care about the title you carry. they’re all up on you just to take a picture and use it to get an extra million likes and comments. you’re wasting your time staying around them because after tonight it’s gonna be like you two never met.” the idol hated to admit it but you were 100% right. when it came to western celebrities, they heard the name BLACKPINK in tandem with one of the members names, and they were immediately trying to befriend them for clout. it was evident in the way they called jisoo by the wrong name, never pronounced rosé with the proper accent, just plain forgot lisa’s name, and how at least 12 people tonight called jennie ‘jenna’ instead. despite that, she was completely used to it by now and expected ingenuity from the celebrities that she met overseas. 

the singer shot you a side glare and you frowned to mock her, “don’t give me that face, just admit the fact that you know i’m right.” jennie rolled her eyes and asked in annoyance,  “and what if you are? why should i care about any of that?” you answered simply, “because you and i both know you aren’t enjoying this right now.” jennie swallowed thickly as your breath ghosted the shell of her ear and she lied straight through her teeth, “i don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n. i’m having a good time.” this time your tone was slightly harsher but in a way that made her stomach erupt into butterflies, “jennie cut the shit, i know more than anyone what you look like when you’re enjoying yourself.” heat rushed to her cheeks at the implication of your words, memories filling her head only making her blush deeper. 

you felt the way her body began melting into your touch and she slowly started giving into what she both desperately wanted and knew she shouldn’t do. she shook the thought from her head and turned back to face you, once again fighting internally with herself to walk away. the way your eyes transfixed on her was no help but then you uttered the words, “come on mama, let me show you a good time…for old time’s sake.” jennie clenched her jaw and you leaned your forehead against hers, without even realizing it her arms ended up over your shoulders. the feeling of your fingers trailing up her mini black dress made her stumble, making you wrap an arm around her waist once more. her voice was weak when she tried to reply with confidence, “i-i don’t think-” all you had to do was raise one eyebrow and give that same damned smile to get her to cave, “just for tonight.” immediately you smiled the million dollar smile the world fell in love with as you led jennie through the crowd to find a place in the 32 rooms of the oversized mansion. she held onto your hand until you rounded a corner and pushed it open before pressing it closed with her back against. she hated how easily she gave into your wishes but she couldn’t help it with the way you felt her up with ease, making her get lost in all that you were, making her feel like you did all those years ago. 

[grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks]

There were a lot of instances, really, that could be considered their "first kiss." A look at some moments that might, depending on your perspective, count as Jon and Martin's first kiss. For the Jonmartin week day 1 prompt "First Kiss" - Updates one chapter a day, every day of Jonmartin Week.

For day 8 of @jonmartinweek, here's chapter 8 of my "first kiss" fic! Enjoy some post-Lonely content, and Jon and Martin's first kiss (or their ninth, depending on how you count it)!

They ended up in Martin’s apartment, after everything.

They didn’t have a lot of other options. Jon had been functionally homeless ever since the coma, and he wasn’t eager to return to the archives. So Jon let himself be led by the Eye to Martin’s doorstep, and Martin let himself be led by Jon.

Martin didn’t say anything, and Jon didn’t press. He just held firmly onto Martin’s hand to reassure himself that he hadn’t disappeared again.

He dropped his hand when they finally arrived, and the pair stood in the foyer, awkward and uncertain. Martin looked numb and entirely lost, and Jon knew he would need to take charge of the situation, but he was at a loss for what to do. The only suggestion he could think to make was a weak,

“Tea?”

Martin nodded, and Jon shuffled into the kitchen to make it. He couldn’t keep from glancing behind him as he worked, to where Martin still stood in the entryway, staring blankly into space. He didn’t move until the kettle began to whistle. Then he startled, and snapped all at once out of whatever trance he’d been lost in.

“Oh, here,” he murmured, coming into the kitchen and raising his hands to help, “Let me…”

“I’ve got it,” Jon said softly. He poured the hot water into two mugs and stirred in the sugar while Martin watched him with an open, aching look of want. There was something oddly wounded in his expression, too. He stared at Jon’s hands, bobbing the teabags in the water, like he wanted to touch them but knew, somehow, that they would burn him.

“Here,” Jon said when he had discarded the tea bags and added the milk. Martin accepted it with a mumbled, 

“Thanks.” Their fingers brushed as he handed over the mug, and Jon flinched against the cold of Martin’s hand.

“You’re freezing.”

“Sorry,” Martin mumbled, and Jon hated it – hated the blankness in his voice, hated the instinctual way he took on blame, as though everything about him was something that required an apology, the same way he had in the Lonely.

“No, it’s– You should really change, though. Your clothes are soaked.”

“You should, too,” Martin said, because Jon’s own clothes were still damp through from all that damned fog.

“I– I don’t have any spare clothes.”

“I could lend you some,” Martin said. He set down his mug. “Come on. This is too hot to drink right now, anyway.”

He led Jon to his bedroom and picked out some clothes for him – a pair of grey joggers and an old tee shirt with the words Magnus Institute Library Team Building Retreat 2013 printed on the front.

“I’ll just be a second,” Jon said before excusing himself to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were several sizes too big. It took quite a bit of cinching the drawstring waist before the joggers would stay up, and the shirt hung awkwardly off his thin frame, exposing his clavicle and most of his shoulder. It was not the most flattering outfit he had ever worn, but it was warm and dry, and smelled pleasantly of laundry soap.

When he stepped out into the hallway, Martin was already there, changed into a dry pair of jeans and a thick sweater. He glanced at Jon in his ill-fitting borrowed clothes, and for the first time in a very long time, Jon caught him smiling.

“I know, I know,” he muttered. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you– you look nice.”

Jon opened his mouth. It seemed important to say something to that, though he was at a loss for quite what. Before he could make up his mind, his phone began to buzz in his pocket.

“Basira,” he told Martin when he checked the screen. “I should take this.”

He wandered into the living room while he spoke to her. She updated him on the state of Daisy, the Hunters, and the police, and Jon let her know that they’d gone back to Martin’s apartment.

“How is he?” 

“He’s… alive,” Jon said, because it was too early to say if he was fine, or safe, or unharmed. But once he’d said it, the truth of his words finally sank in. A disbelieving laugh escaped him as he repeated, suddenly giddy, “He’s alive, Basira!”

They both agreed that he and Martin should leave London as quickly as possible, and she told him that Daisy had a safehouse where they could lay low for a time.

“What’s Martin’s address? I’ll swing by and give you the key.”

“I can text it to you in a second…”

“No. No text conversations, no paper trails,” Basira said. It was hard to make out exactly what she said next, given their shaky phone connection, but it sounded a whole lot like she muttered, “...can’t believe we never caught you.”

When Jon hung up, Martin was hovering in the doorway between the corridor and the living room, and he was crying.

“Martin!”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry for all of it.” His voice was soft and shattered, and Jon remembered his own voice, too excited to consider volume. He’s alive, Basira! Martin would have to have heard it. 

“Martin,” Jon said again, more warmly this time. He closed the distance between them and pulled Martin close until their foreheads were resting against each other. “You don’t need to apologize.” Martin was solid beneath his touch, but the memory of how evanescent he’d been, just an hour before, loomed in his mind. “Just stay with me,” he whispered, and Martin flashed him a weak smile.

“Always.”

Their faces were so close Jon could feel the warmth of Martin’s breath sigh across his cheeks.

Jon paused a moment, savoring the closeness, the solid, certain weight of Martin against him. Then he tilted his head up to close the last remaining space between them and pressed his lips to Martin’s.

Martin responded immediately, reaching up to clutch at Jon’s back, pulling him closer, kissing him back with a desperation Jon was only too willing to match. When Jon licked into his mouth, he let out a high, keening, hungry noise that made Jon shiver. He wanted quite badly to make Martin make that noise again.

Nipping gently at Martin’s bottom lip did the trick, he learned to his delight. Letting the hand that wasn’t gripping Martin’s hair drift down to his waist and slip under his shirt provoked a higher, more surprised noise that Jon liked almost as much. He would have gladly spent the whole night cataloguing the sounds, but he felt something wet roll across his cheek, and he realized with a jolt that Martin was crying.

He pulled away instantly and began to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “Is– is this too soon?”

Martin shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “it’s a year too late.”

Jon’s heart sank. He should have known, he should have realized he’d missed his chance. Martin caught his expression, and his eyes widened.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean–” He scrubbed at his wet cheeks and let out a quiet laugh. “How am I still mucking this up?” he whispered to himself. Jon just watched him, wide-eyed. “I meant,” he said finally, leaning down to press one more chaste kiss to Jon’s lips, “that we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

And Jon wasn’t going to argue with that.

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

Looking for someone to post this for me because I need it to be anonymous! They were both looking so hot in the photos from Vegas on Friday night, I couldn’t imagine them getting out of their hotel room without a struggle.

“Dude!”

She sounded… was it angry?

“What the hell?”

Travis turned around, still fastening his wristwatch, to find Taylor emerging from the bathroom in a very short, very tight leather dress, sky high strappy heels and her signature perfect hair and make up.

He really had been working on being more articulate around her but the sight before him was a serious challenge to the blood flow to his brain. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuuuuck, Tay.”

He forced his gaze back up to her face to find her eyes roaming over him in a manner that could only be described as ravenous.

“Trav, are you seriously expecting me to just be able to leave this room with you looking like that?”

He managed to tear his gaze away from where the chocolate brown leather met her clavicle and looked down at his peach-toned matching set. He’d worn much more outlandish things by her side before and she’d never complained. “You don’t like it?”

Taylor rolled her eyes but she didn’t look mad. “Oh, I definitely like it, Trav. I can see every subtle shift and movement of every one of your perfect muscles in that outfit.” She fanned herself theatrically. “You are far too hot for me to let you be seen by any other women. I mean, babe, when I first opened this door I really let myself admire the view while your back was turned. You are one spectacular piece of ass, Travis Kelce.”

“Huh.” Travis grinned. “So you’re not gonna take this perfect opportunity to make a joke about my position?”

Taylor grinned at him wickedly. “I have so many different positions coming to mind right now and not one of them is appropriate for Sunday Night Football.”

Travis looked longingly back at her then cautioned a glance at his watch.

“I mean, we are ready pretty early. We didn’t say we’d meet them until at least ten.”

“Uh huh.” Taylor nodded eagerly, stalking towards him and reaching for the soft fabric of his sweater.

“And we can put ourselves back together pretty quickly, right?” By now she was up on tiptoes and her red lips were on his neck so he didn’t really need much more in the way of convincing. He ran a finger tip along the neckline of her dress and she shivered in anticipation of what he might do next. He loved it when that happened. It was like she’d never been properly taken care of before, every little way he touched her was met with such an ecstatic reaction.

“You really have poured yourself into this tight little thing just for me, haven’t you?” he murmured as she frantically pushed his sweater up under his armpits, urging him to pull it over his head and out of her way. He complied hastily, only to return his hands to the bare backs of her upper thighs and pull her body right up against his.

“It unzips in the back,” she whispered shakily against his throat and once her little hands had snaked around his waist and settled under the globes of his ass, he didn’t need telling twice.

“Pat will understand,” he said, mostly to himself, as he peeled the leather down the length of Taylor’s toned arms, revealing the swell of her breasts spilling over the top of a sheer lace corset. “He’s had the love of his life since high school. I’ve only just found you and I’ve got all that lost time to make up for.”

When he looked up to meet her gaze, Taylor’s expression was so tender that Travis felt the tears spring to his eyes. “I never knew it could be like this, Tay,” he whispered. “Thank you, baby, for giving me a chance.”

He could see that her eyes were misty too but the tenderness quickly turned to playfulness, another of the qualities he loved about her. She grabbed his wrist and showed him his watch. “Travis, you know I love you and you know how new and mind-blowing all of this is for me too but we’ve got some serious, you know, mind-blowing to do right now and we have a couple with a babysitter waiting on us. You’re on the clock, baby.”

Travis grinned. “It’s been said I do my best work when the lights get brighter and the stakes are higher.”

Taylor waggled her eyebrows. “Let’s break a couple more records.”

😂 do with this whatever you want, world.

[accio-victuuri]

i can never really tell with XZ hahahahaha i’ve had this whole “xz, a mastermind” post on my draft but i probably won’t complete it. take this as my poor attempt to ramble about this thought. I also wanna touch upon a video that’s been going around and why if you go to the bjyx super topic now people are being so loud and telling each other to not be glass hearted. but first things first, one of the accessories he wore today aside from the lion themed bag is a very recognizable scarf.

1. There was an Anti, days ago who posted about WYB wearing a worn out jacket and saying he’s poor. I mean they can’t find anything wrong with him at all so they just to make anything stick. So people are saying that, the reason why GG wore this old/recognizable scarf is to say that he repeats his outfits too. So what?

2. The appearance of this scarf lends more proof to WYB delivering winter clothes/accessories to XZ in Shanghai. What are the chances that he was photographed ( stalked ) in CQ every damn day that he was shooting there and he was in shorts. Even if it was getting colder. Then he goes incognito in SH. Shows up very late to early in the morning in Suzhou just in time for Weibo night ( wearing the same GUCCI coat he was photographed in today ). Disappears. Now he decides to grace us with his presence and wears this SCARF. Where the hell did this come from. An old scarf that is probably stored at his Beijing home. Yes, we know he can have his stuff shipped and all that but what are the chances — we were clowning about it and then this “evidence” pops up. It’s some kind of self fulfilling prophecy we have going on here or something.

3. He had his phone out. This usually doesn’t happen when he shows up in airports. It’s like he is confirming to us that what we know about his phone case is true. Plus it is suspiciously similar to Bobo’s ( as seen in Wuzhen but we need a clearer photo ).

I may be giving XZ too much credit but this guy knows what he’s doing. He can be out of people’s sight if he wants and just show up when he needs you to see him. I don’t think him being spotted in Suzhou that day close to WB night was a coincidence. There were lots of talks about the event being cancelled and no word from the awards show’s account, so him being spotted there was the confirmation. The star of the event has arrived, the show will go on. It’s not a coincidence that XZS often posts personal vlogs/photos of him when rumors about XZ are getting out of control. It gives something to distract the fans. It was on purpose that he showed up in the streets of Beijing ( in broad daylight ) when people said he was in Changsha. What i’m trying to say is him being intentional is not only because of CPN — it’s how he manages his professional career too. He always said that when he goes to work, he needs to know what the purpose is. He can’t just show up.

Tho when it comes to CPN, I think it’s a mixed bag. Some are intentional and other are so natural because they are ingrained in each other’s lives. It’s either he is confirming things that fans are talking about and whether we pick up on it or not is up to us. Hours later, I think I know why this was happened.

THIS VIDEO WAS LEAKED TODAY. I won’t keep it. Watch it and judge for yourself. This was allegedly after 2020 Starlight Event where people were invited for a get together of some sort. The shrimp opinion book who has connections with XZS ( allegedly ) already published a message on this as follows:

As the team has repeatedly refuted rumors, the artist has always been single. This is after 2020 Starlight Awards. A big party organized by the organizers, those who are invited to the event of the day and there were many artists and staff. There are other artists and organizers around the artist. Obviously, the video was intentionally cut out. The people present on the left, right and in front maliciously create and convey false impressions that confuse the public. Now two years later, long after the end of the cooperation, afterwards, it flows out in this form, and the intention is very obvious.Please don't believe in such instigation methods, don't fall for it, thanks!

So when I watched it, I knew their “shippers” would love it. but tbh, the way XZ treats her is like a younger sister. not an equal at all. I think we all have a good guess of why this was leaked now. Right after the entertainment ban at that, making sure to release something “explosive” about XZ. Some people just cannot stand to see him shine on his own merit during the Weibo Event last 11/29 so they gotta do something to discredit him. I feel sad that he had his guard down at the time, It was his first awards show after 227 and i guess he thought he was in a safe environment. Obviously not. I’m glad that he is much guarded now because it seems like everyone around him cannot be trusted. I wonder how many of these so-called friends have secretly filmed him and kept those stuff as ammunition for later on. It’s so disgusting. 💀💀💀

I don’t know how XZS will handle this or if the shrimp opinion book message is their way of putting out the fire. It depends if it will gain traction with melon accounts or whatever. The only consolation is this, we will get a big candy anytime soon. It his track record is to be trusted, then he will drop things. or has already. Anyway, that’s all. The road ahead is long. Some days I forget that our boys have so many people who want to tear them down in whatever means they can, but they won’t win. Evil never wins.

-END.

[whatinthe-greenbeans]

1-98 ask game

Im not gonna answer some of them just cause 1- I’m lazy, and 2- I couldn’t think of an answer. I’ll just put N/A (no answer) for those ones

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Mugs definitely, I love mugs. Teacups are a close second though, those are pretty cool.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubble gum (this also depends on what brand of bubble gum though)

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

I was homeschooled so idk

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Soda cans/bottles, whatever the soda originally came in basically

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Grunge or goth

7. earbuds or headphones?

Headphones 100%

8. movies or tv shows?

tv shows, movies are too much commitment

9. favorite smell in the summer?

This is oddly specific, my mind is blank

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Again, homeschooled. I’ve never done p.e.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

A bowl of cereal

12. name of your favorite playlist?

“More unnamed vibes ✨🕺”

13. lanyard or key ring?

Lanyard

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Skittles

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

The kite runner was really good. I also loved when we read Shakespeare

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

It depends which part of my body hurts that day

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

combat boots

18. ideal weather?

When it’s really sunshiney right after it rains

19. sleeping position?

On my side

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Notes app or google docs if I’m on my laptop

21. obsession from childhood?

✨dinosaurs✨

22. role model?

N/A

23. strange habits?

I have a lot of habits but I wouldn’t say any of them are strange or out of the ordinary? I’m sure there’s something but I can’t think of it right now

24. favorite crystal?

N/A

25. first song you remember hearing?

Idk man that was too long ago for me to recall. Probably some Katy Perry or something??

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Old lady activities- but outside (reading, crocheting, etc but it’s in the sun so it’s 10x better)

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Old lady activities still but it’s inside because cold

28. five songs to describe you?

That requires way more thinking and self awareness than I posses. Ask pyxy maybe they know

29. best way to bond with you?

Literally just hang out or hold an interesting conversation with me

30. places that you find sacred?

N/A

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

I dunno, probably jeans and a cool shirt ?? (I wear the same things every day)

32. top five favorite vines?

I LIKE A LOT OF THEM HOW SHOULD I PICK???

33. most used phrase in your phone?

Probably me yelling ‘KYEL’

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

🕺 Avocados from Mexico 💃🏼

35. average time you fall asleep?

Like how many times per day? Once a night, I don’t nap. If we’re talking how long it takes me to fall asleep then it’s more like an hour+ of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

Some of these questions are really challenging my memory

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Suitcase

38. lemonade or tea?

Lemonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Pie

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

N/A

41. last person you texted?

@pyxy-styx

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie

44. favorite scent for soap?

I do not like scented soap

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy but I also like sci fi

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

T shirt and leggings /pajama pants

47. favorite type of cheese?

All of the above

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

A peach?? Idk

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

N/A (I can’t think of any rn but I’m sure there is some)

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Watching someone else laugh so hard that water came out of her nose

51. current stresses?

I have a concert coming up soon but I think we’ll be fine

52. favorite font?

Times new Roman (I don’t use a lot of fonts, this one is nice though)

53. what is the current state of your hands?

I’ve colored all over them

54. what did you learn from your first job?

N/A

55. favorite fairy tale?

Dude most of the original fairytales are pretty gruesome, they’re all really cool

56. favorite tradition?

My family is boring we don’t really have specific traditions

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Oh boy do you wanna know (N/A)

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Creative ability in general, specifically with music and crafts like crocheting or sewing. Ig I would also consider my fixation and knowledge on psychology and brain stuff a talent.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

Gaslight Gatekeep Kivenboss

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

N/A (I haven’t watched any anime so)

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

“But before I can live with other folks I’ve got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a persons conscience” -Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

62. seven characters you relate to?

Nimona(Nimona), hiccup haddock(HTTYD), Charlie spring(Heartstopper), Peter Parker(specifically the Tom holland MCU spider man), Anne Shirley(Anne of green gables), Katie Mitchell(Mitchell’s vs. the Machines). Kinda basic characters but idc.

63. five songs that would play in your

club?

All the gay songs

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I wasn’t really on the internet as a ki

65. any permanent scars?

Yeah

66. favorite flower(s)?

Marigolds and carnations are really pretty

67. good luck charms?

N/A

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

I’m not typically picky when it comes to the flavor of things, nothing comes to mind that I just really hated the flavor of.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Pretty much everything I know about cannibalism

70. left or right handed?

Right

71. least favorite pattern?

Anything that has so much going on it overloads my brain

72. worst subject?

The one I’m worst in is probably any type of history but I don’t hate any subjects

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

I dislike weird flavor combos in general so I can’t think of any I like

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

I could probably get up to a pain level of like 5 or 6 and not even really notice just cause I suck at noticing what’s going on with my body. Pain meds also just don’t really work well for me, so I rarely take any

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I think I was six, almost seven probably?

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

French fries 🫶🫶

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

I know nothing about plants. I think plants with vines hanging out of the windowsill would look cool though

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Sushi

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

School ID. I have a horrible rbf in my license photo

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Earth tones

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

I grew up saying fireflies but lighting bugs is so much cooler

82. pc or console?

PC

83. writing or drawing?

Writing

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcast

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie

85. fairy tales or mythology?

I don’t know much about mythology but it’s cooler so I pick mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies

87. your greatest fear?

I don’t actually know

88. your greatest wish?

My father dies (/hj)

89. who would you put before everyone else?

Your mom

90. luckiest mistake?

N/A

91. boxes or bags?

Depends what I’m putting in them

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

lamps and other alternative lighting over the big lights any day

93. nicknames?

My legal name + the nickname that goes with it (I hate these), my preferred name + nickname of my preferred name, kiven, plus whatever random crap my friends come up with

94. favorite season?

Autumn

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr (im a mobile user, tragic I know) or Spotify

96. desktop background?

A drawing of a rainy day

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

All in all it’s around eight

98. favorite historical era?

The renaissance was pretty cool. Industrial Revolution era is also really fascinating

This took way too fucking long to do but here it is

[blossom-adventures]

Tagging @hauntedadagium @seradyn and @savage-rhi thank you for the support you’ve all shown me while I’ve been working on this, I hope you all like what I have so far ❤️🖤

A Tall Glass of Red Wine

An Ardyn x Reader Fic

Ok… the prologue and chapter 1 are here, I apologise in advance if I get some of the tenses are mixed up, it’s my first proper attempt at a xReader fic so I’m still getting used to the phrasing (it’s especially difficult because I’m working on an OC story for Skyrim too and I find myself writing “her” and “she” instead of “you” sometimes) bear with me, I’m still getting used to it 😅

This fic isn’t going to be posted as consistent as my Skyrim fic, I’m not planning a schedule for posting this fic, once I have a chapter, I’ll share it

Reference of alcohol & poisoning

Prologue

King Regis Lucis Callum, of the Crown City of Insomnia rules over all of the vast kingdom of Lucis, or maybe not so vast now, Niflheim has taken control of nearly half of the kingdom. Regis, although he has a kingdom to rule, also has his duties as a father and as an Uncle, as the only 2 left of his household, he loves them dearly - in his own way. His household consists of his son Noctis - the chosen King of Light - and his niece, a young Captain in the Kingsglaive… You.

You came into your Uncle’s care after your father tried to put on the Ring of the Lucii, he wasn’t the chosen king after all, he wasn’t worthy of the Ring. With Noctis being heir to the throne of Lucis, you were expected to marry well and be a perfect wife to a high rank noble or a prince, however, you had shown such skill with a blade that your Uncle allowed you to train with the Kingsglaive. You flourished amount their ranks, climbing the ranks quickly until you became the youngest captain ever.

As you were of the Royal line your Uncle sent you off with the Marshal to collect your own set of Royal Arms. The pair of you traveled from each of the Royal Tombs to collect the power they held inside.

Once you and the Marshal returned you were sent out again within the week to lead your Glaives on a infiltration mission into Empire controlled lands.

“Stay safe,” King Regis said to you as you prepared to leave “and don’t use your Royal Arms in Niflheim controlled lands, if they found out who you were…”

“I know Uncle, I’ll be back soon, I’m sure” you gave him a warm smile, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze

“Y/N, come on, we need to go!” You look over your shoulder at one of the other Glaives, you look back at your Uncle and he forced a smile before letting you go, you walk down the steps of the Citadel and join your fellow Glaives. A simple infiltration mission, what could go wrong?

Chapter 1 - The Poisoned Glass

Working as a servant in the Niflheim Royal Palace wasn’t what you had ever wanted to do, Niflheim was the enemy, you belonged in the Crown City of Insomnia, but you, and so many others were prisoners of war, made to serve the Empire, and you thanked the Gods everyday that your identity had been kept quiet so far, no one seemed to know who you were.

Magitech guards kept watch on the servants in the Emperor’s palace, programmed to ensure that no Lucian in the employ of the Empire did anything to harm the people they now served, there had been attempts, you knew of at least 2 men who had disappeared over the last month, that knowledge alone was enough to keep you loyal, as much as you hated the idea.

Most days you worked as a maid; cleaning the palace, taking the belongings of visiting dignitaries to their guest rooms or - as it was tonight - serving drinks in one of the many ballrooms. The men and women who were guests of the Emperor were dressed to impress, the women wore incredibly tight looking dresses that you thought looked very uncomfortable, and the men wore their finest suits… all but one at least.

The Chancellor, despite his high rank, never wore fine suits… that wasn’t to say that his outfit was dull, far from it; his black leather, ankle length coat was always worn, as was his hat and red scarf, even in the height of summer, as it was tonight. You had heard people comment on it too, although you knew that none of them would say anything to him directly, the man was an intimidating figure.

He was leaning against the wall, looking out at the party from under the rim of his hat as you passed him

“Do you have red wine with you?” He caught your attention with a snap of his fingers as he spoke

“I’m afraid not, Chancellor Izunia” you say as you approach him “only champagne, I’m sorry”

“Pity… I suppose it will have to do” he took a glass from one of your silver serving trays and waved you away to continue your rounds of the ballroom, offering drinks to the other guests. Passing out glasses to another group of guests emptied your serving tray, so you tuck it under your arm and return to the kitchens to replenish your supply

“The Chancellor’s asking for red wine, do we have any?” Another servant asked as he asked as they followed you in

“That man drinks nothing but wine, can’t he last one night without it?” The older man who ran the kitchens scoffed as he walked off, he was a fellow Lucian, that much you knew, you didn’t tend to ask questions like that, it usually got people angry and upset when they spoke of their homes. He set the fresh bottle of red wine on the counter, the young man who had asked for it pulled out the cork and poured a glass. You were collecting your fresh champagne flutes when you saw him pour something else into the glass, a fine white powder.

“What are you doing?” You hissed as he stirred the powder until it had completely dissolved

“With the Chancellor gone, then it just leaves the Emperor”

“And the whole of Niflheim’s army, are you insane!”

“Don’t you want to go home?” The young man looked at you, he looked desperate

“Of course I do… but poisoning the Chancellor is not the way to do it” you try to reach for the glass but he pulled it away from your reach and left the kitchen, you went to follow him but the older man caught your arm

“Don’t bother dear, let this be on him, alone”

“But what about the Chancellor?” You ask, the older man let out a sigh

“You have too much heart, dear, you won’t do well here if you care as much as you do” he nodded to your tray of champagne “you best get going with that, don’t want the high and mighty of Niflheim going too long without their alcohol now do we.”

Back in the ballroom, you can’t help but look over at the Chancellor, he was still leaning against the wall, looking down at his wine glass, swirling the liquid, but not drinking it, as you make your way around the hall, he catches your attention again, and waves you over.

“Is… there something wrong Sir?”

“The servant who brought me this, did he open the bottle and pour it?” You swallow your nerves that had risen to the surface

“Yes, Sir” he looked up from you and you followed his gaze, the young man was standing at the far corner of the room

“Well then, I know what he’s done… and I want him to know that what he’s done will result in someone dying”

“Sir?” Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke, he took your empty trays off you and handed the glass of wine, he kept his hand clasped tightly around yours, and looked at you, you could see a look in his eye that made your stomach turn

“Drink it” your eyes widen and you tried to take a step back from him, but he catches your wrist and held it tightly “you will do as I say, drink it”

“Sir, I…”

“Drink it” he repeated again, you quickly look over your shoulder, the servant responsible to this was still watching “I don’t want to have to force you” you look back at the Chancellor, then down to his hands, one holding your wrist tightly, to the point it started to hurt, and the other holding your hand and the glass he had given you, you couldn’t drop it, or even throw it at him, he was giving you no choice.

Why did I come over here, why did I feel the need to ask him anything? I’m going to die because I care too much, I’m so stupid

“I’m waiting…” the Chancellor hummed

“Fine” you manage to choke out, his lips twitched into a brief smile before you lifted the glass to your lips

“That’s it, drink up” even though he spoke in a whisper, you could hear a hit of amusement or joy in his voice, he still held the glass and your hand as you tipped the rich red wine into your mouth. It had been months since you had drunk anything so expensive and rich in flavour, it was a pleasant flavour, you thought at first that there might have been nothing wrong with it at all, but then whatever your fellow servant had put it the wine hit your system, you let out a gasp as the Chancellor let go of you, freeing your hands to clasp your throat.

You heard someone shout, a mans voice from what you could tell, but your focus was on yourself, the poison surged around your body, causing your throat to constrict and your legs to give way from under you. You felt strong arms catch you though, they lowered you to the floor.

“It’s alright” the Chancellor’s voice spoke calmly in your ear, you could feel his breath against your neck, as he spoke, your vision was blurring, all you could see were shapes moving around you “try to take deep breaths… it’s alright” you feel a hand close your eyes and brush some hair from your face as you slip unconscious.

[aspl1tl1fe]

Creating a Festival

When I was setting up for Conquer’s Isla Paradiso vacation, I created a community lot using @aroundthesims​​‘ Ruins objects. Originally I thought the lot would make a great secret party site. Later on, having still not used the lot (forgot it existed, had to search for it the day of the festival, lol), I shifted it’s purpose as the site for a Spring Break bash, giving my household something special to do when Glamour came to stay. Conquer was also learning to DJ and eventually got the moonlight want, so I figured the festival could serve as his debut. 

After playing in live for two years (IT’S BEEN TWO YEARS) I realized there were very few venues where the Central island sims socialized with the Little Sister folks. When it came time to get ready for the festival, I wanted to rectify this to some degree and prepared myself to be very hands on in order to really make the celebration Isla Paradiso wide.

If you’re thinking, this can’t get more complicated, ‘TIME TO MEET MY BRAIN:

My Brain: If Isla Paradiso has a festival every year there has to be a reason for it.

Me (because we’re separate): I mean it’s a tourist hub, so any excuse to get people to spend money.

MB: What attracts spenders more than a cultural festival?

M: Okay. 

MB: Something where people can wear skimpy costumes and parade around town merrily. You do have all those cc masks, headdresses and a bunch of costume make up.

M: That’s a good point. I’ve never used half of that stuff, plus I’ve still got a bunch of beachwear downloaded just for this save and that’ll probably never get used otherwise. 

MB: Excellent! You’re in?

M: I am!

MB: Why are they parading in the outfits, though?

M: What?

MB: Why? If it’s cultural there has to be a reason. You know, the history.

M: I mean it could have been established so long ago no one remembers why --

MB: But you have to remember... because that will help determine what their costumes look like.

M: Oooooh.

MB: And since you decided to be realistic and divide your island based on skin tone there’s going to at least be two different colored costumes.

M: Makes sen--

MB: Possibly multiple colors for different roles in the same faction...

M: Fa-factions?

MB: ...and two distinct styles of costumes to mark the separate factions. Maybe some costume variations depending on the household...

M: Oh, I --

MB: ...styles based on the colonizer group and the colonized group.

M: Umm --

MB: Because divided people will have divided cultures. Divided cultures mean divided histories...

M: WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH THIS!

MB: ...or different versions of the same history.

M: ???

MB: You know? For the event.

M:

MB: The event being celebrated during YOUR festival.

M: What have I done?

MB: What have you done?

----

So basically I ran that little sims wikia snippet about Isla Paradiso’s royal descendants through my head overlord and out came a complicated story of the Ichtaca family massacring people to colonize their paradise. This initially took place while I was flicking through clothes in create a sim, and was fleshed out a bit further over time. Eventually, I decided there would be three tales of the final battle that lead to the current Isla Paradiso, and serves as the event the festival is held to honor:

The “official story” i.e. the one taught in the history books that inspires the lighter wealthier population’s celebration. 

The “real story,” or the survival tale descendants of the archipelago’s original, darker and poorer, residents, pass down and celebrate. 

Then the truth, which none of the sims in the game actually knows at this point.

The costumes worn by the residents were based on their respective myths. Only one group’s costumes got captured during live mode, and only a little of their history will be shared in A Farming Town: Tropical Vacation since this is told mostly through Conquer and he’s an outsider.

Next up, the first festival CAS post.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

I am not Your Mr. Miyagi: Rough Draft

I am bored and wanting to post stuff: So here is the rough draft of I am not Your Mr. Miyagi.

-0-

 The first time Tsuna ever met Hoshi, she worked at repainting a park fence, not paying attention to anyone. She wore the traditional outfit most town handypersons wore- a white jumpsuit with the kanji for Nammori on the back in black. She kept her hair under a ball cap for the heat and had worn her contacts that day.

 Tsuna met her while avoiding some bullies- the nastier ones. It wasn’t often a bully would get physical with him. Most were afraid of Hibari or the teachers. Even the other students didn’t normally stand for actual physical bullying.

 It was just sometimes they felt like kicking him when he was down.

 They hadn’t noticed the handyman working until she whistled when they’d cornered him.

 “If you three have extra energy, I’m sure your parents would agree to you volunteering to paint a fence… or two… or twenty.” She held up her paint can, a single eyebrow raised. The bullies ran off, leaving Tsuna by himself. She snorted, watching them run. “That happen often?” she asked Tsuna, who jerked and blushed.

 “Uh… no! No! Just… I’m Dame-Tsuna. I’m kinda used to it.” The woman blinked.

 “…You call yourself useless?”

 “I am,” Tsuna said blankly, feeling no reason to refute the truth.

 “…If you’re that useless, come over here and make yourself useful.” The woman said. “I’ve got an extra brush.” Tsuna hesitated before he walked over and kneeled, taking a brush and copying her painting.

 He got way more paint on himself, and the woman- who said her name was Johnson Hoshi but told him to call her Hoshi-san- had to repaint some of his parts, but she’d told him good job and sent him off with a few yen.

 He felt… he felt good.

-0-

“What if I told you I could give you twenty-five years?” the man asked her, standing in the room she was receiving chemotherapy.

 “I’d say you’re a scam artist but probably go along out of hope.” She told him, studying the man. He wore a hat made of iron, checkered gloves and a tie. The same pattern rested on his face.

 A scam artist or an eccentric billionaire? 

 “Even if it means abandoning this dimension? Never seeing your family again?”

 “Even then.”

-0-

 The next time the two crossed paths, Hoshi was trimming some trees in the schoolyard along with a coworker, the job given to them as the students normally responsible for it recovered from being scolded by the Disciplinary Committee for some unknown reason.

 Hoshi didn’t want to know.

 “You lost us the game Dame-Tsuna!” Whined some boys as they glared at the young boy who looked pained.

 “Shoulda never let him join us.”

 “Yeah!”

 “You know,” Hoshi said loudly to draw their attention. “I hate it when someone decides to pin the blame on one student for a game. Is it not a team sport? Even if one student was awful, what about the others? Did they not try at all? Why blame one person? All of them sucked; that’s why they lost. One person doing bad doesn’t mean they lose.” She told her coworker straight face as the man rolled his eyes. “I guess the entire team was useless then.”

 Hoshi later would say that she didn’t know why she did it. She blamed her foster siblings, honestly. She never quite liked name-calling ever since.

 The kids shut up then, pale and looking a bit ashamed, as Tsuna stared at her with big brown eyes.

 …Dear lord, are those flowers around him?

 Hoshi firmly kept her gaze away.

 Nope. Not falling for it. Nope.

-0-

“Why me?” Hoshi asked Checkerface, sitting in her room, holding her violin. “Why me?”

 “If you don’t, then a child may have to take your place. And that… that’s too much for even me.” He said honestly. Hoshi closed her eyes and let out a low noise.

 He had to go there.

-0-

 The third time was when Tsuna stumbled upon her dancing around a group of delinquents who didn’t like that she’d trimmed back the bushes to their little hideout. Hibari caught them doing drugs without the bushes and delivered a beatdown. They then attacked her.

 They never hit her. She twirled out of their grasp, bent back away from their fists, and jumped over their heads, causing them to beat themselves up, much to her glee.

 “…Kid?” Hoshi said upon spotting him.

 “Can you teach me?!” Tsuna blurted out, eyes wide as he stared at the bodies behind her. “I’d love to be able to beat-“

 “This isn’t Karate Kid!” the woman said, holding her hands up. “I’m not your Mr. Miyagi!”

 “…What?”

 “…It’s an American movie. Anyway, kid, I don’t fight-“

 “You just beat them!” Tsuna protested, pointing at the bodies.

 “By dancing!” Hoshi said, lifting her arms above her head.

 “…What?”

 “I’m a dancer, kid- I just danced and was quicker than they were; nothing else about it!” she told him.

 “…Can you teach me?” Tsuna asked. “I’m Dame-Tsuna, but you-“

 “I just don’t like bullies, kid,” Hoshi told him. “There wasn’t any other reason I tried to help you.” Tsuna, though, just looked at her, desperate.

 He was young enough- nine- he wasn’t yet beaten down by the insults and cruelty. None of his life lay around him, destroyed by society to have a scapegoat.

 Hoshi looked at him and then cursed, seeing his eyes.

 “Damn it. I’m not your Mr. Miyagi!” she said, throwing her hands up. “I’ll teach you ballet, that’s it, got it?” she pointed at him. “You get to figure out the rest.”

 “Thank you!”

 “…I already regret this,” Hoshi muttered to herself.

-0-

 “No regrets?”

 “No,” Hoshi told the man. “None.”

 “Good.”

-0-

 Hoshi wanted to groan loudly.

 Not even two months into this new world, and she makes contact with the main character.

 No, wait, she agreed to teach the main character.

She needed a drink.

 Meeting Hibari hadn’t been a shock- she did work in his town, but there was a difference between staring blankly at him when he gave orders or ignoring him while she did landscaping at the school and interacting with Tsunayoshi! It had been challenging to remember the show, but she did remember the main character. Her interest in it had waned thanks to the lousy animation, and then her cancer was found, so she lost more interest.

 Sighing, she fiddled with the doorknob on her apartment, making a face at how long it took to open. Making a mental note to go and see if the landlord would mind her messing with it, Hoshi entered her apartment. Checkerface had given her money to use in her new world, and she used it to buy her new home. She’d call it a studio in Canada- or a bachelor depending on who you’d ask. She forgot what her landlord called it.

 Her kitchen was in a small corner, her bed on the opposite side. It was just a pile of pillows and blankets on top of a mattress. A dresser with an excellent sound system sat against a wall, with her TV and comfortable couch near it. It wasn’t much, but for Hoshi, it was enough as she worked and saved. 

 Feeling lazy, she flopped on her couch and turned on the TV to a hockey game, fiddling with the chain around her neck, her fingers ghosting the pacifier at the end.

 She was going to need to think up some lessons.

[magaprima]

Okay, so the outfits from the fashion meme post. I did plan to put the detailed reasons and thoughts all in one post, but I’ve quickly realised my thoughts are too many so I’ll do one post per outfit.

Outfit Four: The Black Leather Trench

Okay, so I'm pretty sure it's implied there is nothing else under this coat in this scene, which is pretty fucking daring considering at this point Lilith is still pretending to be a school teacher. A school teacher who happens to be a centuries old witch, sure, but still a school teacher, who has lived and worked amongst mortals, and loved a mortal etc...and here she is, just leading a little field trip in nothing but a black leather trench. Or a very revealing mini-dress underneath. Either way, this is daring as far Wardwell-era wardrobe goes, and it's interesting that it's in the first episode where Lilith is now fully established as 'friendly neighbourhood witch mentor' in Sabrina's life. She's able to look a little less unassuming school teacher now, and embrace her witchy appearance and aesthetic a bit more.

This outfit just always stands out as being key Lilith aesthetic because it's black, it's beautifully cut, it's fitted with a belt cinching in at the waist, it's a power coat, and it's one she wears a lot of times throughout the series. Often with more clothes underneath, but it is worn a lot. It's a key part of Lilith's wardrobe and it tends to be worn when she's doing something powerful or she's making a power play (such as in the example scene I used above where she's teaching young witches that High Priests can't always be trusted to be doing what they should).

If you see Lilith in this coat, you can trust that at some point in the scene, or at least within the episode, she's going to be something very HBIC (we don't see that acronym much anymore and I wish to bring it back). And it is also absolutely gorgeous; the material is soft and supple, it clings but in a way that is powerful-sexy rather than revealing-sexy (key distinction, especially when talking about Lilith, as powerful sexy has strength, revealing sexy has vulnerability which isn't something she's ever keen on having), and the way it's tailored and the perfect cinch of the belt...it just screams Lilith aesthetic whether she's wearing it over her trademark red dress or over...I don't know...just underwear? This outfit was so suggestive of nothingness in this episode, especially when wearing her boots because there were no tights, socks, anything.

Which, I suppose, if we're getting film analysis-y, and scene study-y, then it could signify that this coat is literally pure Lilith. I'd definitely make that point if I had to do an A-Level essay on it.

[parkerlyn]

ICYMI: This week, I’ve been posting a preview for each RO from the 18+ specials that recently released on Patreon / the special restricted game C: Last but not least: The Healer!

The "Morning" Bonus Stories average about 1.5k - 3k words for each RO depending on the versions - the mild (not explicit) and the spicy (explicit sexual content). There's about ~23k total words with limited variations!

Mild Password | Spicy Password

----

It didn't take long for the Healer's house to feel like home. The mortalis themself could make you feel like that on their own, so it was no surprise when - among the worn wooden shelves and hooks, those bright glass trinkets and jars full of salves, the pleasant but pungent smell of fresh and dried herbs - it all became just as, if not more, familiar and welcoming than the Sanctum in Saor.

You knew which chair was their favorite (the worn, reddish-brown one by the fire), their habit of rolling their shoulders and cracking their knuckles. You knew the way their face scrunched up with confusion when all their hair had come undone from its ties, despite the fact that they'd been toying with it constantly for the previous hour. You knew they loved to sink into a bath after a long day, knew the minutes they steeped their tea (3 too long), and knew the weight of their arms around you when the two of you fell asleep by each other's side.

Waking up in the Healer's room had been disorienting at first.

But it was a quiet, comfortable space. The low framed bed with simple white and blue sheets hugged the wall near a corner, floating shelves nearby full of trinkets - among them a mechanical bird and a small jeweled relief of a jellyfish, a waterfall of emerald leaves from a small, sand-colored pot, and an echo of the Healer's sibling, their smile flashing warmly in the depths of the crystal. Clothes hung inside a wardrobe near the stairs, right underneath the center of the slanted ceiling, containing a mismatch of different outfits that seemed to fit two separate people.

One, the Healer as they were.

Two, the memory of someone they were before - Han finery and accessories glittering forgotten in the corner.

----

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