#and i tend to go to google to see the right words to use

[notsodailycake]

I have fallen for you baiting with the Zelink kids, I’m begging to hear something about them

If you need something specific maybe their names and favorite hobbies or who they most take after

Whauwie YES

OK OK SO, so far i have built already how they come to be and all, I'm just working on how life will be like after totk (dont have the game yet, but friends do so imma be asking for sum help)

But so far, we have 2 kids! Both of them are girls, 3 years apart. Older sister is named Sonia (yes in honor of Queen Sonia herself), and the youngest is named Adira

Sonia is more like her dad, especially in terms of looks, but she had inherited her mother's eyes and thurst for answers. She's very energetic and adventurous, and likes helping others

She tends to be the guinea-pig to alot of her sister's projects and creations since she has almost no self preservation. She enjoys it tho, thinking it as a fun activity to try out new things and hang out with her sister. She also enjoys carving things, mainly toys and masks. Most of her sister's toys were made by her when they were around 11 and 8

Although she is usually quite the airhead, and not really the brightest (like her dad, cough-), she definitely inherited her mother's overthinker mind. Doesn't help that she also tends to think little of herself, being the firstborn of the Princess and Hero themselves, alot of people put her under alot of high expectations and although her parents tried their best to show she didn't have to prove her worth, the gossip around town was hard to ignore, doesn't help the fact that her sister has started to become a prodigy to her mom, creating inventions to help hyrule and planning to bring the royal system back when she's old enough

Sonia though, has no intention of bringing the royal life back, nor to continue it. Like her dad she wants to explore, she's fascinated by history and wants to disvover every small relic left unseen. And she wants to travel beyond Hyrule one day as well and help those she comes across her path. But also perhaps, escape the duties and expectations others put on top of her, and perhaps prove herself better then those expectations

She loves her sister tho, despite everything, and will never admit to her how jelouse she actually is of Adira. How jealous she was of Adira of being able to hang out with their mom so much, have so much in common with her, sometimes she wonders if she has anything from her mom other then her eyes

Adira is alot like her mother, especially in the looks department, but she has her father's eyes and thurst for chaos. She's usually quiet, but very sassy when needs be, and although seeming quite shy, she got quite the temperament and wont hold back her tounge

Like mentioned previously she becoms a prodigy to her mom, creating and getting invested on inventions to help hyrule and planning to bring the royal system back when she's old enough. She spends most of her time studying and working on anything technology finding it fun to see what possible outcomes it came give

Although sometimes the pressure is too much, as much as her parents give her the liberty to explore her interests, as she had started to show advancements in her creations and helping hyrule, as well as proclaiming to bring back the kingdom (even tho she was a child when she said that), all eyes were now set on her and she is terrified of any failure, and to disappoint everyone, she usually confides on her sister who never cared of her status and just liked to be around her for her (and well, she felt too embarrassed about it to tell her parents about it, they didn't need to worry about such simple things in her eyes, they already fought the townsfolk so much bc of that, she didn't want to make them dislike her parents bc of her)

She admires her sister alot, looks up to her and wishes she could be as cool as her, as free as her, but she isn't good in any sort of physical activities and is usually just stuck in the lab. And that causes a smidge of jealousy as Sonia is able to bond more with their dad then Adira ever could, she feels like she has nothing in common to her dad other then his eyes and need for chaos (which the second part was something looked down apon by others)

And those are the basics i have so far, there is more but I'm unsure about it for now, and aren't 100% concrete yet, so i wont share at the moment

But before i end this, here are some small fun facts:

Both Sonia and Adira are pure glutons, just like their dad XD. They have cooking sessions together quite often, helping around the kitchen when they can;

Sonia loves horses as much as her dad does, but she is terrified of riding them, because when she was little and riding one for the first time, the person who set settle on didn't do it properly and she fell, head first into a rocky ground, and to add onto it, the horse stepped right onto her pinky. Now she has small panic attacks trying to ride them

Sonia actually used to hate Adira. Since Adira was a rainbow baby, Zelda and Link did kinda get overprotective with her, and accidentally neglected Sonia. That didn't last long after Sonia did cause a whole scene with running away and almost getting killed- but that's likez a whole other story in itself lol (i might make a more detailed post about this later). But after that incident they were able to work things out and Sonia ended up being way more protective over Adira then her own parents

[jo-com]

Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 Smut. Thank you so much ❤️

₊˚⊹♡ ➛ le mien

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader

Summary: Part 2 of Mine

Genre: DARK fic.

Word: 2.03k words

TW: baby trapping, p and c penetration, possessiveness, jealousy, branding, manipulation, obsessive behavior, bit angsty, corruption, brainwashing, wrap it before you tap it folks and overall messed up shit. This is not proofread and there are some grammatical error also google translated french. if uncomfortable minors do not interact!!

─────── ─ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ ─ ───────

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Y/username Happy 4th Anniversary Mon amour!

Charles_Leclerc i love you so much darling!

Y/username i love you more💋💋💋

Carlossainz55 Stay strong guys!

User1 Cutest Couple ever🙈

User2 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY

User3 Agreed😍

Y/bff The cutest fr

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…

Despite all the love you share on social media, nothing can compare to the real truth that exists beyond the internet.

People don't see the things he does behind closed doors—all those emotional abuse, obsessive behavior, and possessiveness. Never, even once, do people know that it's happening between the two of you.

All they know is the sweet words you guys share in each other's posts and the way you act whenever there are people around you two—all sweet and loving like one of those fairy tale romances you read. But behind all that, they don't see how hurt you are mentally. It was happening constantly, and you were so used to it that you became numb and just succumbed to the growing pain you feel inside. 

To the point where you act like his puppet—doing everything that pleases him, and acting the way he wants you to.

You never once complained, thinking that it was just how love goes.

You were a fool. A fool blinded by "love".

...

"Hey y/n/n, are you alright? Me and mom have been worried about you; you haven't been going to our usual family gathering." your sister asked over the phone.

It was true; you haven't been going to those gatherings for a while now, only because Charles said, "It's not safe to go outside," and of course, like the sweet girlfriend doll you were, you followed his words.

You stared blankly, your mind wandering off. You tend to get lost in thoughts nowadays, and you're not sure why. Maybe it's from the stress you've been feeling, but you just brushed it off like it was nothing.

"Yeah, I am good. I've just been busy lately, you know? Keeping the house safe and everything," you chuckled dryly. 

"You know I can tell when there's something wrong, right? So just tell me."

Before you could answer, Charles walked into the room. With one hand holding Leo, he was snuggled up nice and cozy in his embrace. His eyes roamed around the room searching for you; his gaze then fell prey on your meek figure—you sat there holding the phone in one hand while the other rested on the softly fabricated couch. You looked angelic, as if untouched by any form of evil. 

Then again, Charles wasn't just any form of evil; he was the reincarnation of the devil himself, and he wanted nothing more than to corrupt your innocence.

With a soft smile, Charles walked to where you sat, sitting beside you and settling leo down on his lap. 

"Who are you talking to poupée (doll)?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, just my sister; we were just catching up on things." You muttered, your voice quivering slightly; you don't know whether you were scared or just have some sore throat that made your voice crack.

Charles looked at you in disbelief, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and simply turned his attention back at Leo. "Hang up the phone," he said bluntly, not even sparing you a glance.

"But baby, we were just talking." You tried to argue with him, telling him that you just wanted to chat with your sister, but as usual, he blocked your words of plea and glared at you—he always does that, looking at you as if he were judging your whole soul.

His eyes have always been your weakness; they both scare and pleasure you at the same time. Charles knows that, and he uses it to his advantage every time.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy; you could feel it weighing down and crushing your spirit.

Sighing defeatedly, you had no choice but to end the call with your sister and not further complicate things.

"Hey, uhm, sis, I'll just call you back, okay? Something just came up."

You didn't even let your sister respond before hanging up the call. Charles hummed contentedly and patted the seat next to him. At that very moment, you felt angry with him, but you knew that you couldn't do anything about it, so you sucked it up and sat beside him. Leaning close to his embrace.

"Bonne fille, ma chérie (good girl, my darling)," he mumbbled softly, kissing the roof of your head.

...

Charles gripped your waist tightly, his jaws clenched, and hands balled up to a fist. He half-ass smiled at the man, trying to compose himself—fighting back the urges to beat the shit out of the guy in front of them.

He saw the way he looked at you; his eyes scanned each and every part of your body like you were some kind of art on display. fucking disgusting. 

You, on the other hand, held on to him, almost ripping the fabric of his clothes with your tight grip. You paid no mind to the guy he was talking to and just stared at the bustling room; in there, people were having fun, dancing, and drinking with others. 

At that moment, you didn't care about Charles or who he was conversing with; all you wanted was to spring free from his embrace and just party wild with others. Was that too much to ask for?

For him, it was. If it was legal, he wanted nothing more than to lock you up and live the rest of your lives together. So, having that idea was just wishful thinking—it never hurts to dream, though. 

"I'll see you around, yeah?" The man asked, earning a subtle nod from Charles as an acknowledgment.

"Quel putain de cinglé (what a fucking weirdo)," he mumbled under his breath, his accent making the words sound more spiteful and venomous.

You didn't hear him say that. You were too busy to admire people's enjoyment and bask in the laughter and smiles that surround you. How could people be as care free like that? The ache on your heart only grows fonder. Oh, how you wish you could do the same. 

With your head up in the clouds, you didn't seem to notice the angry monegasque that stood beside you, cursing you in any language he knew. The next thing you felt was a harsh sting that rested on your jaw.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I've been trying to talk to you! What are you even looking at? Are you cheating on me, Chienne (Bitch)?" he yelled, not even caring anymore if people heard him.

Your breath hitches, eyes widening, and heart racing fast.

His hands were now on your jaws, gripping them with sheer strength. You didn't know what was going on or why this was  happening to you. You were always so nice and never did anything to cause harm, so why?

All those questions in your mind made your vision go blurry and your head spin, causing you to black out on the spot.

...

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and only bits of memories of what happened that night. "Ouch," you winced, massaging your head to try and ease the pain. 

As if on cue, Charles walked in with medicine on his left hand and a glass of water on the right. 

His face lit up, seeing that you were now awake. He softly smiled and walked towards your shared bed. The matress dipped down as he sat next to your sitting body.

"Are you feeling better, mon amour?" he asked. His hand was about to stroke your cheeks, but out of reflex, your body flinched at his sudden movement. 

That made Charles frown. You know how bipolar his mood has been; that's why you've been extra careful not to ruin it. You were expecting him to be mad, but what happened was the opposite. He only sighed deeply and lowered his head. 

"I am sorry, Mon cœur." Your being shocked was an understatement; in fact, you were flabergasted at his words. You never knew that hearing him say that would make you want to tear up.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I know you didn't mean for it to happen," you assured him, and rubbed circles around his arm. 

And just like that, Charles once again got you wrapped around his finger. You were way too easy to convince and so naive that you'd fall for anything he said.

He slowly lift up his head and gave you a light smile.

You then melted at his expression, it was silly of you to think that a face like that could ever harm you. he would never do that.

...

"Fuck, Charlie, put it in already, please," you begged, your eyes watering from the overstimulation. His hands gripped your waist tighter—muscles flexing in the process. 

"You're so needy for my cock, mon amour," he breathes out. 

The two of you have been at it for half an hour now, both out of breath and with marks made by one another. Your bodies were sticky with each other's bodily fluids, but you guys paid no mind to that. Only focusing on reaching the pleasure you both wanted so badly.

Without wasting a second, Charles huridly inserted his dick into your aching core. Your eyes widened from the sudden sensation between your thighs; you could feel how he was stretching you, and the need for him to satisfy you only increased. 

"Move, please" you said, your voice quivering and hands scratching his back to let out some of the pain.

Your legs instantly rested on his lower hip, wanting to keep him as close to you as possible. You don't know why you're acting like that, but you suddenly got the urge to mount him and fuck him till dawn. 

"Shit baby, you're always so tight," he chuckled, his left hand settled in the headboard while his right hand played with the nub of your tits.

His hips clashed with yours, making the two of you a moaning mess. Charles then dove down to your breast and licked it, biting and teasing them. He made sure to leave plenty of marks. 

"Oh god, i..i am about to come," you gasped, your toes curling from the rush of adrenaline coursing through you. 

"Just come for me, baby," he said, continuously pounding into you, your flesh crashing at each other and making a loud, smacking sound.

His hand then snaked up to hold onto your ankles, lifting it up. Shifting his dick into a deeper position.

With the new found position, your vision started to go blur; now only seeing nothing but stars. Your mind then turns hazy, and hands gripping tightly on the duvet sheet that scattered on the bed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" was the only thing you said before collapsing on the matress, your body convulsing with pleasure as your juices slowly fall down your flush tighs.

"Damn, all that for me, ma chérie?" Charles laughed, licking his lower lip at how ravishing you look; fucked out and cockdumb for him.

He continued to rut his hips to your overstimulated cunt. "Fuck, Je veux mettre un bébé en toi (i want to put a baby inside you)" he mumbled, not minding your state and carried on fucking you into an oblivion.

"I'ma fill you with my cum, make you a mama and the fill you up again....fuck" he rambled, his hips never stoping, not until he reach his high.

And after a few more thrust, he finally came inside of you— his eyes rolling in the back of his head with satisfaction. He continued to rut into you; not wanting to spill his cum and then coating your walls with his white seed.

You were sure to get pregnant by that and after that, you two are going to be tied forever, just like he planned.

...

yeah that was pure filth, hope you guys like it though! My requests are always open.

[prentissluvr]

the language of love isn't dead — dean winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, frenemies to lovers, petty arguments, ft. sam!, dean is annoying obviously <3, reader speaks latin (i used google translate and it is probably very wrong lol), kissing, one mention of a sexual innuendo, a few joking death threats, non-serious mentions of choking, poorly edited, 2.4K words. requested !

summary : you tend to compliment dean in the dead language of latin after fights so that he doesn't know what you really think about him.

“you’re being ridiculous,” you frown at dean, arms crossed against your chest as you stare him down in tonight’s motel room.

“ridiculous?” he parrots, indignant. “this is baby we’re talking about. my car. you know, the ‘67 black chevy impala i would kill a man over?”

“yeah, i know her,” you reply, sarcastic in tone. “and your homicidal tendencies when it comes to her. i’m very familiar, dean.” you roll your eyes at him because you just can’t help it. dean makes it very easy to get annoyed at, for a multitude of reasons.

reason number one, he’s annoying. reason number two, he’s very hot when he’s angry. reason number three, he’s very hot pretty much all the time. it does not help that sam got first dibs on the shower, so he’s still covered in a bit of grime and blood from the hunt you just walked away from. it’s his best look, aside from any time that he smiles.

“well, then you should know that getting her perfectly tended to and polished leather seats dirty with wendy’s barbecue sauce is like a goddamn felony and i should sentence you to life of never even stepping foot near my car again,” he fires back, and if you didn’t know him well, which you do, you’d venture to guess that he’s joking. he’s not.

you groan in frustration. “for the last time, i did not get barbecue sauce on your car seats,” you insist.

“i saw you sneaking fries before we got to the room,” he counters, narrowing his eyes at you. “you could have gotten grease on the leather too.”

“i ate two fries dean, and i was careful. i used a napkin and i did not open my barbecue sauce!” you spit back at him. you can’t believe you’re arguing about this right now. except that it is so believable and so like you and him. it’s not like either one of you is going to back down, certainly not about something so petty and meaningless.

“then how come i found some in the back seat?” he says for what feels like the millionth time.

you throw your hands up in the air. “i don’t know! i don’t even use my barbecue sauce for my fries. there’s no reason for me to have opened it!” you argue, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “and how do you even know it was barbecue sauce?”

“it looked like barbecue sauce, it wasn’t there yesterday, you’re the only one who orders it and the only one who’s sat in the back since then. therefore, barbecue sauce,” he admonishes, crossing his arms over his chest to punctuate his point. you can’t help but laugh at him a little bit. he just sounds so ridiculous.

“well then, let’s say it was barbecue sauce—which it wasn’t. did the leather get damaged?” you ask pointedly.

“that doesn’t matter!” he practically rages, taking a step towards you. god, he’s beautiful and you hate him for it (you really, really love him for it). “what matters is that you got it dirty!”

“jesus, dean! just drop it, your car is fine!” you chastise, your voice raising a little in volume as you take another step towards him. you can see his light freckles better now. they’re so goddamn pretty it makes you want to choke him.

“just drop it?” he repeats, fuming. “i will not ‘just drop it.’ this is about baby. i can’t ‘just drop’ something about baby! how can i even trust you enough to let you in my car again, huh?” this is the point where he’s serious, but not that serious. there’s clear frustration and anger in his voice, but he’s stuck with you and he knows it. and when he asks that final question, his volume lessens and he shrugs. he’s looking for you to grovel or offer something to appease him. the question is whether or not to give him that. your instinct is, of course, to not. you let out a huff of breath.

“well, maybe because i’m excellent company in the car,” you suggest, a gloating tone making its way into your voice. “and i like your music better than sam does. which means we always outnumber him. that’s very important.”

he’s unimpressed, clearly. “you gotta come up with something better than that, sweetheart,” he goads.

you curl your lip at him and roll your eyes. “you absolutely suck, dean,” you state. he raises his eyebrows and you groan and roll your eyes yet again. that’s not the word to use around him unless you want a sexual innuendo thrown in your face. “you are absolutely horrible, dean,” you amend.

he laughs at you and his annoyance mostly subsides. “which means i have no problem getting back at you tenfold for getting goddamn barbecue sauce on my car seat.”

“te respicere bonum cum iratus es, ita dampnas,” you grumble, shaking your head and glaring at him. like tradition, you end the argument with a certain latin phrase full of choice words. 

now dean, sweet, lovely, silly, gorgeous dean, has no idea what you’re saying. he doesn’t care to learn enough latin for that. he doesn’t need to know, he thinks. your tone of voice says it all. he thinks those choice words are the type that one fills an insult with. today you tell him, “you look so damn good when you’re angry.” which, funnily enough, is not an insult.

it’s the perfect way of looking him in the eye and just spitting it out. you get to say without consequence what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what you want to tell him so badly. it’s not the same as him knowing, but it helps. it eases your tension until the next time, it softens the blow a little.

sam fails to hold in his laugh behind you. you whirl around and glare at him, freshly dressed and out of the shower. you hadn’t even heard him leave the bathroom. narrowing your eyes at him, you tell your long time best friend, say something and you die. he puts his hands up in surrender, still laughing at you a little.

“shut up,” you grumble, then turn back to dean with a scowl.

“what was that little nerd exchange?” dean teases, realizing sam understood what you said.

“nothing,” you glower. “i’m showering now!” 

dean throws his hands up in protest. “you’re making me shower last after getting barbecue sauce on my car?”

“dean, i swear to the lord in heaven, if you–”

“fine, fine!” he relents, the sarcasm and teasing still clearly present in his voice. “you’re right, you should shower first, you probably have barbecue sauce all over ya.” you raise your fist in a threat and it’s dean’s turn to put his hands up in surrender. “i’m just saying!”

“stop saying!” you groan. “just– stop talking, i’m gonna lose my mind.” if i have to stare at your gorgeous face and listen to your gorgeous voice for another second i will go crazy. you sigh heavily. god, you wonder if you could survive not kissing him. monsters and demons and all the strange shit in the world… that’s fine. it sucks but, jesus, at least you know how to deal with them.

but doing it all with dean? you have no idea how to deal with that. so far, it’s by arguing with him, complimenting him in a dead language, and keeping him at an arm’s length. and so far, it’s not working out too well, because you still want him. you still want him to want you back. you still wish and wish and wish that the language of love isn’t dead, not for you and him, not yet, at least.

maybe the shower will help. this motel doesn’t have the worst showers; the water pressure is decent and the water stays hot for a while longer than some others.

you’re not annoyed when you finish, at least, not about his stupid accusations of you getting condiments on his car seats. unfortunately, you are still annoyed about how attracted you are to him. even more unfortunate, you suppose, is that you’re attracted to him, period.

you sigh because you can’t bring yourself to actually try not to be. not that anyone can reverse feelings, but you let your feelings run rampant, more than you should sometimes. you let him eat away at your heart like a goddman movie zombie that’s too stupid to remember it eats brains. then, you figure that the thought of him eats away at your brain too, because he messes with your rationality sometimes.

his eyes are on you as you leave the bathroom and you wonder if sam’s tattled on you. when you shoot him a look he shrugs and shakes his head. you’re not convinced, but you let it slide. you plop down on the pullout couch bed and pack your old clothes away, ignoring dean’s heavy gaze. only when the door to the bathroom opens and closes do you flop against the bed with a heaving sigh.

“i hate your brother,” you grumble, barely loud enough for sam to hear as the muffled sounds of the shower turning on hits your ears. you turn to your side and curl up, not even bothering to pull the sheet over yourself.

you can’t see sam, but you hear him scoff from his spot on his own bed. “sure you do,” he quips, completely sarcastic.

“no, i really, really do,” you insist, not meaning a word of it.

“well, he hates you too, then,” he answers, voice heavy with implication. you know what he means because he knows what you mean. hate, of course, is love.

“no, he doesn’t,” you counter, sad about it. you bet that no one’s ever sounded so disappointed that someone doesn’t ‘hate’ them.

“you’re hopeless.” sam’s probably shaking his head at you as he reads the words on the book in his lap.

“i’m hopeless,” you sigh.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s not until a few days later that dean confronts you about your little latin digs at him. sam did tattle, only because he’s tired of your pining, but dean won’t tell you that. he’s smart enough to know you’ll end up with your hands around sam’s neck if you end up finding out, and he’s not trying to have his… person strangle his little brother.

“hey, idiot,” he starts, the word layered with affection. “why do you always insult me in latin? sorta feels like you lose the point of insulting someone to their face like that.” 

he’s leaning against the hood of his car, beer in hand like always. it’s oddly uncommon to find yourself like this; outside, alone with him. the motel’s not busy and there are barely any other cars in the parking lot, and even less people. it’s just you and him as far as you can see. the night air is mild, cicadas singing as summer begins to slip away.

“well… maybe the point is that you know i’m saying something about you, but you don’t know what,” you shrug, sort of proud of the smooth answer. you’re not even lying. inside, you’re panicking a bit. this is dangerous territory.

“the stuff you’re saying is that horrible, huh?” his tone suggests a joke. his eyes suggest otherwise. it makes you pause. 

how unfair is it, to the both of you, to lie? to even joke that you’d say such mean things about him? about dean winchester, whom you know sort of hates himself. who has just two people by his side, you and sam.

and you, who only argues with him because it’s easier than being nice. you, who deserves what you want but won’t let yourself even try to have it.

“no,” you sigh out. “i’m not saying horrible stuff about you.” you don’t look at him, you don’t mess around. you take the joking in his voice and strip it away. you take the look in his eyes and put it in yours. it makes him look at you, for once. it’s easy to imagine his eyebrows raising, his lips caught somewhere between his signature smirk and a curious frown. “not in latin, anyways,” you add, letting a huff of laughter leak into your bitter voice.

dean keeps looking at you. you know you’re supposed to explain after saying something like that, but you’d much rather not.

“no?” he asks finally. now you have to say something more.

“no,” you confirm, still staring at the trees across the street instead of him. the street lights are orange in color, and it feels either cruel or hopeful that it’s such a beautiful night. “i… say it in latin because it’s something nice. and you can… ignore this, if you want. i say it in latin because i like you a lot, dean. y’know, more than a stupid, fucking friend.” you roll your eyes a bit, like you’re upset with yourself. then you swallow thickly and ignore the fact that you can see him in your peripheral vision. he doesn’t look like he normally does. he doesn’t look angry.

dean is torn between teasing you and kissing you. you sound mad about the fact that you have feelings for him, like you wish you didn’t. ‘more than a stupid, fucking friend’ is a real funny way to phrase things, if he’s honest with himself. the question is, does he say that to you, or does he look for something better to say? he’s not good with ‘better things to say,’ whatever that might be.

“a little aggressive for a love confession, no?” his voice isn’t even that teasing. it’s sort of gentle. he wants to slap his hand over his mouth for saying that godforsaken four letter word. you had said ‘like.’ it’s freudian slip, he supposes, since he loves you.

“this isn’t funny, dean,” you murmur, voice sort of defeated. and yet, you hear it. it’s not funny to him either. he wasn’t trying to be funny, he was trying not to feel. he was trying to say at least something, because he was having trouble coming up with anything else.

“i know,” he relents. he draws in a deep breath. “will you look at me?” your lips part, then close. you blink a few times. you turn your head and look at him. god, he loves you back. he’s got to, or there’s no other way to explain how he looks at you.

and there’s definitely no other way to explain him kissing you. he looks you right in the eyes and he leans in until his lips are touching yours. 

his eyes flutter closed, yours follow. you kiss him back, he kisses harder. the language of love isn’t dead. all you had to do was say something.

[maximwtf]

“As per new routine”

Alhaitham x Reader

Words: 870

Google Docs Pages: 1,5

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, no angst no hurt?! That's a new one for me :”D Bedtime sillies, sleepy cuddles. Written by someone awake at 3am, proofread by the same person awake at 2am. Mistake prone, I’d say. (At the very least, I tend to repeat myself when tired :"D)

Opening: Coming back from work rather late, only to find him waiting for you. 

AN// G/n reader. Eeh, this is again gonna be one of those fanfics I thought of writing and then remembered I’ve never written for said character nor do I plan on doing so in the future. But I felt like this was needed, even if this is shorter than what I usually make :”D

“As per new routine”

Getting home late had become a little more usual than in the past. But that was merely due to the amount of work coming in recently, and by no means would this continue on for forever. But what it did entail was a change in your usual routine, which meant it also affected Alhaitham’s. Though, so far you hadn’t even gotten him to mention your late appearances back home. 

So as per routine, you arrived back home late. Tiredly attempting to make your way in quietly, expecting that Alhaitham would have been asleep by now. Kaveh on the other hand was most likely still awake, pulling an all-nighter with his projects. So he wasn’t exactly a worry you had. 

Sneaking carefully further, abandoning your bag by one of the couches. Not bothered to start undoing its contents so late in the night. Having already left your shoes by the door, you start making your way towards the bedroom. Combing your hair out with your hand, an attempt to ease the exhaustion and slight stress of the day. Opening a few buttons from your shirt while at it, ready to hit the hay as soon as possible. Knowing there was going to be yet another long day awaiting tomorrow. So every minute of sleep counted for something. 

Attempting to quietly open the bedroom door was for no use. Seeing as even to your surprise, Alhaitham was awake, calmly reading a book on his side of the bed. It wasn’t the book that surprised you, but the fact that he’d seemingly stayed awake because of you. Alhaitham on the other hand didn’t seem fazed, barely even reacting to your arrival. Only turning a page of the book, “you worked later than usual.” A calm comment breaking the silence right after. His eyes still calmly scanning the pages, not having even looked up. 

Any initial surprise disappeared, finding it almost funny how you’d initially claimed this as odd. But the more you sat on it, the more it seemed in character for him to do. Alhaitham had just seemingly stayed up and waited for you, he just hadn’t bothered to do so the previous times.

Making your way to your side of the bed and sitting down, you took a moment before answering him. “I had to catch up on a few things,” you stated calmly. Not mentioning anything of your previous surprise of his behaviour. Knowing it hadn’t been because he was worried about your absence, he knew you were going to come back. Even if later than usual. 

“You’re running a better schedule than he is,” Alhaitham commented. Eyeing the direction of the hallway, not having to guess he was insinuating at Kaveh. His comment gaining an amused hum from you, in truth being exhausted enough to not have the energy for unnecessary comments. Especially if it had to do with their silly banter, as much as you liked to watch it go down usually.

And you suspected that Alhaitham noticed that, dropping the topic as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. Allowing you some time to change into something a little more comfortable to sleep in. Buf after getting that done, your gaze landed on the nightstand. Realising that you’d forgotten to get a glass of water before making your way to the bedroom. Having been in such a hurry to get some sleep. 

Your eyes moved to Alhaitham’s side, noticing the glass he had. Not saying anything, you reached over him for the glass. Getting a slight grunt from him for blocking the view of his book. In the end not even being able to reach the glass itself. 

He closed the book, gently pushing you back and while placing the book back on the nightstand, handing you the glass. While also giving you a look, insinuating that you could have just asked him for it. For which you allowed him a chuckle. 

“You don’t need to make this a habit, you know?” You commented, taking a sip of the water. Noting how it was still rather cold. “Waiting for me, I mean,” you added while handing back the glass. 

You’d somehow gotten used to how low maintenance your relationship with him was. So seeing him pay attention to you coming home later than usual, all of a sudden felt odd. But there was something endearing about it as well. 

“I wasn’t going to. I was only seeing when it was you’d started coming back.” Alhaitham answered. And of course he had known of your recent habit of coming home later than usual. Even when you’d made sure to check that he’d been asleep each time you’d done so. 

“Did you get an answer?” You asked calmly while getting under the covers. “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating tone, copying your movements. 

There was a comfortable silence for a moment as the two of you lay still. Before you turned to face him, inching closer. He allowed it, like always. The feeling of him making space for you familiar, as you settled against him. Sleep overtaking your tired form rather quickly, breathing in his familiar scent. Not having the time to notice his arm placing itself loosely on your waist. 

[strongheartneteyam]

Not the type of girl for you.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x human!nurse!female!reader

CW: a bit of angst but mostly fluff, wounded neteyam, mentions of blood (nothing graphic but reader is a nurse, right?), friends to lovers, kissing, physical contact, cute neteyam, sexual tension, hurt/comfort, anxious reader, reader thinks neteyam won’t ever have romantic feelings for her because she’s human, love confessions, neteyam flirting with reader

Another one of my works that had been forgotten for ages on my Google Docs and i’m now reviving this pookie and posting it for you guys to see lol comments and reblogs will make me feel so loved and supported! I love you guys so much 💓🌿

na'vi words: sevin tawtute (pretty human), syulang (flower)

Slightly proofread.

⋆°⋆ ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I love you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you

I didn't mean to say what I said

I miss you, I mean it, I tried not to feel it

I can't get you out of my head

I'm not the type of girl for you

And I'm not going to pretend

That I'm the type of girl you'd call more than a friend

Your Type (Carly Rae Jepsen)

⋆°⋆ ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Look, if I don’t tell you this now I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to, so… Here it goes…” You said as you wrapped a bandage around Neteyam’s wound after you had cleaned it the best you could but there was still a bit of blood in it. It was natural, though. "I..." You sighed nervously "I like you. I'm sorry..." 

You finished tending to his wound and left the bandage at the cold metal table right next to where Neteyam was sitting down while you took care of the wounded areas in his body.

Neteyam looked at you, confused and surprised. He didn't expect to hear those words... at all. He always thought you only saw him as a friend.

"I know nothing will ever happen between us, Teyam, and I don't expect you to answer. Honestly, you can just walk out of here or ask someone else to care for your wounds. I understand if you don't ever wanna see me again. I don't want you to think of me as clingy or that I'm trying to force something because I..." Neteyam watched you non-stop while you were word vomiting "I'm not. I swear. I'm sorry... I made everything awkward. Now we can't be friends anymore. Well, you're all set. Your wounds are taken care of. Hope you heal fast. Gotta go. Bye."

You started to walk fast so you could run away from that uncomfortable situation you thought you had brought upon the both of you but Neteyam quickly got up from the medical chair made specially for the na'vi, bigger than a regular human one, and he ran to you, his long, toned legs helping him, as he only needed like four steps to get where you were, way fewer than a human guy would need.

"(Y/n), wait!" Neteyam exclaimed. You couldn't believe he was talking to you and not to tell you to never speak to him again and that he would never like a human - a demon - girl.

"Can we... talk about what you just said? It's an important piece of information." Neteyam chuckled and then gave you a big, warm smile.

That was so like him. Caring so much about others, trying to make everyone feel comfortable and at ease. That's one of the key things that made you fall in love with him. How beautiful he was on the inside too. If you forget his transcendental na'vi beauty, he would still be so, so beautiful because of how altruistic, kind and brave he was. You felt your heart ache inside your chest. You knew how much you loved Neteyam and how you'd probably love him forever. But you also knew he could never fall in love with a human girl. He wasn't fond of humans. He took after his mother, Neytiri. And you didn't blame him. You weren't that fond of your own race either.

“Can you tell me why you think I wouldn’t like you back?” Neteyam chuckled softly and smiled, his sharp fangs almost making you faint of captivation

Why did he have to be so freaking magnetic? Neteyam made it insanely hard for you not to have all those feelings for him.

“Well, for one, I am human…?” You pointed out, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion

"(y/n), you're not just any human. You understand and respect my Planet and the na'vi ways, you work helping heal our kids and warriors and I think I sense some love for Eywa in you. Being human is not a reason for me not to like you." He smiled, reassuring you "I've actually had a crush on you for... some months now." He confessed as his tail moved from side to side, making his joy apparent

Wait, hold on... what? Did Neteyam just say he had a crush on you? You definitely were not expecting that.

“What did you just say?” Your eyebrows were still furrowed as you chuckled, unbelieving

“I said I like you too, sevin tawtute.” Neteyam smiled and got closer to you, pulling you in, bringing you dangerously close to his strong but soft body

Suddenly, Neteyam put his big hands under your arms and lift you in the air and you feared falling so, before you knew it, you were wrapping your legs around his waist.

His smile grew wider and he said “I’m gonna start courting you now. Do you even realize how pretty you look in your nurse uniform?” His flirting made your heart skip a beat and your legs felt weak. Good thing he was holding you in his arms.

Oh my God… Neteyam was actually holding you in his arms and he said he liked you back and that he was gonna start courting you… That didn’t sound real. You started to wonder if you were dreaming about him again. It used to happen fairly often. You were soon awakened from your thoughts by a sultry masculine voice.

“Syulang?” Neteyam called, realizing you seemed to be somewhere else, and you smiled at him when you understood that it was not a dream but actually reality. Neteyam smiled back. “You get so distracted sometimes." He chuckled "So cute.” Neteyam kissed you softly and quickly, leaving no time for you to even see it was coming before his lips were pressing tenderly against yours. His kiss felt sweet and caring, like you were precious to him. His lips tasted like Paradise and that's exactly where you felt you currently were.

⋆°⋆ ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Taglist:

@yeosxxx

[friend-of-a-cat]

So... I'm doing research for a piece of creative non-fiction (a personal essay) I'm writing for one of my uni assignments about the fact that I'm asexual and demiromantic and think that we, as a wider society, have gotten the concepts of love and attraction all wrong, and I've been researching more into the split attraction model because, well, I see it as something that's important and relevant, and this came up in my Google search:

The initial red flag of this article is the fact that it's on BetterHelp. I didn't see this at first, and did a double take.

Anyway, the first thing I would like to ask is: what are these 'cons'? As far as I'm concerned, there are none. I understand that, for many people, romantic and sexual attraction are intrinsically linked, but, for many, they're not, and the split attraction model existing doesn't harm the former - it helps the latter. The latter includes people who are on the asexual and/or aromantic spectrums, as well as people who are, for example, heteromantic and bisexual, panromantic and homosexual, biromantic and heterosexual, etc. - basically anyone whose experiences differ between their romantic and sexual attraction.

I do find it a bit annoying that, when many people talk about both of these kinds of attraction, they lump them into one 'label', which is mostly [something]sexual (e.g. heterosexual, homosexual, etc.). But, for them, the two are linked, so referring to themselves as [something]sexual to cover both seems fine and dandy. Which... it is. However, I find it wild that people don't realise that, despite the fact that the two may seem linked to them, they are actually two different experiences. People who are both alloromantic and allosexual should be able to see this, right? They can think someone is sexually attractive yet not be romantically attracted to or want to date them. That is a thing that can happen.

Anyway, I decided to read through the article. It isn't bad, per se - much of the information is useful, and it seemed to be quite positive. Until I got to the 'cons':

Now, I'm not really into the discourse surrounding the split attraction model - in fact, I didn't realise there was discourse surrounding it. This is because I tend to, either accidently or on purpose, avoid discourse in general. But... 'oversexualisation'? In what context? If anything, not using the split attraction model would be considered 'oversexualisation' (even though I don't think that that is, either - I honestly don't know why this word has been brought up here) due to the fact that many people focus on sexual attraction over any kind of attraction and use it to cover romantic attraction, too, when they talk about it. I genuinely have no idea what they are referring to here.

In regard to the second point: what? Attraction is complex. That's the whole thing. The split attraction model makes it less complex for many people. It allows people to figure out who they are and have the terminology to be able to voice it. Attraction is a spectrum and so is gender. Of course both of them are going to be complex. Society made both of them rigid in the first place, so breaking out of those rigidities is going to be confusing for everyone. The split attraction model helps people understand themselves, and I would like to think it helps them understand others. Everyone benefits.

I don't know if I can speak much on the third point, as I'm not familiar with the discourse, as I previously mentioned, and don't really know what it entails. Though, in saying this... what do they mean? When has asexuality - or aromanticism, for that matter - ever been prioritised over other queer identities? There's a severe lack of discussion and education surrounding both of them. That's just a fact. People who are asexual and/or aromantic are oftentimes even shunned by the wider queer community they are a part of. I don't really have much more to add on this point because I'm so confused by it. By the way, this article barely talks about aromanticism, despite the fact that it's an important part of this model, too.

The last point is just a rehash of the second point. If I was told about any of this stuff growing up, I would have realised I was ace and demiromantic from the start. Instead, I realised I was ace a few years ago after watching Jaiden Animations' video about the fact that she's aroace (I don't want to use the term 'coming out' here because, frankly, I hate it - I'll save that rant for another time). I only realised I was demiromantic in the past month after... realising that people getting romantic crushes on and/or falling in love with someone when they barely know them is actually a thing that happens and isn't fake. These two terms fit me best at the moment, and explain everything. If I had've known these terms as a teenager, that would have been great. The split attraction model helped me so much in breaking down myself and my identity, and offered me the foundation I needed to ask myself questions. Yeah, attraction and gender are confusing - I said it before, and I'll say it again. But why would you cast something so helpful aside? That will only hinder people - both those who are struggling with their own identity and those who are trying to understand the identities of others. Education surrounding the complexities and spectrums of attraction and gender are so important, and this model will help people teach other people about attraction.

I also read a bunch of hate comments, as one does whenever they go on Reddit or Twitter or literally any social media platform ever, regarding the split attraction model. This didn't surprise me. These specific people seem to hate this model because... well, I don't really know. They were mostly spewing aphobia. I don't think a single one had a constructive point. Also, most of the search results for 'split attraction model' on Google are actually critiques of it, or articles talking about critiques of it and being on the fence. Come on, people. Do better.

Anyway, the split attraction model is important. Education is important. Allowing people to figure out who they are and express it is important. This should all go without saying.

That is all.

[annwrites]

happy birthday, billy

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you give billy a b-day gift.

— tags: billy being sad, until you make him happy.

— tw: mentions of domestic violence

— word count: 673

— a/n: this is an outtake from my thoroughfare series. for once i didn't use a gif, bc nothing i came across fit for this post, so to google images i went lol.

When you enter class, you’re filled with nerves. This was a stupid idea. But Billy had given you a handful of moments of kindness—something he didn’t seem to tend to show toward many others—and they meant something to you. A great deal. A greater deal than you wanted to admit. 

Some nights, you’d lie awake, your door locked, as you listened to your father yelling, breaking things, and tears would stream down your face, lip trembling, body shaking in fear that he’d finally turn toward your room, break down the door, and make you his next target. 

And during those nights, your thoughts would drift toward those memories of him. Billy. His moments of honest vulnerability toward you. Somehow, going away into your mind and reliving such events comforted you. 

You wanted to repay the favor. Today was his birthday. Eighteen, you believed, he was turning.

Maybe he’d make fun of you for it. Maybe he’d throw the gift back in your face and tell you how much he hated it; that it was ugly. To take it back. 

Maybe he’d tell you that you were stupid to think those moments of kindness ever meant anything, when, in reality, they were his way of trying to get in close to you to finally get between your thighs. That’s what it seemed he desired from most girls at school. And he always seemed to get it, too.

What if he thought it was you finally showing…that kind of interest in him? Or he perceived it as you trying to lead him on? What if he made some smart-mouth comment about it, causing a scene, and your classmates got the wrong impression?

You sigh. He can think what he wants. What’s important is that you know why you’d gotten it: to say ‘thank you’. 

Billy smirks as you come closer to your desk, then glances to the small black box, complete with a blue ribbon wrapped around it, in your hand. He nearly frowns then. Had someone—some douchebag here at school, perhaps—given you a gift today? It’s not like it was your birthday. He’d checked the calendar at the front of the classroom for it a week after coming to Hawkins, and it’d turned out it had passed a month before he ever even joined the class. 

It was his, however, but it’s not like anyone paid enough attention to care. Not even his dad. Or his ignorant step-mom, or pain-in-the-ass step-sister. He tells himself it’s just another day, anyway. Doesn’t fucking matter.

After setting your things down on your desk, you set the box atop his with a warm, gentle smile. “Happy birthday, Billy,” you say quietly.

He stares at you, speechless, mind blank from just those three words. And then he looks at the box. Finally, he sits up, feet planted on the floor, as he picks it up. He wants to make a smart-ass comment—needs to—because the way he really feels right now…he can’t let you see that. That this means…so fucking much to him. 

You’d…you’d remembered. Had gotten him something, packaged it, even. This had been planned.

He keeps his mouth shut, pulling at the ribbon, letting it fall to the desk before pulling open the lid and finding a plain, silver-chain necklace inside.

He looks up to you.

You shift on your feet, your right hand coming to grab your left forearm. “I…I wasn’t sure what to get. I saw your ring and just thought… If you don’t like it, the receipt is in the box. You can always return it, or-”

You watch as he gingerly picks it up, unclasps it, then fastens it around his neck. 

You grow quiet then. 

“Thank you,” he says, glancing up to you, then back down to the box as he places the ribbon inside, closing it before shoving it into his jacket pocket. 

You smile again. “You’re welcome. Are…are you eighteen, then?”

He nods.

You do as well, just once, then sit before class starts.

He doesn’t pull your hair that day.

[mrs-monaghan]

Can you show me jungkook being the best boyfriend ever

What tf kinda difficult question is this??? JK is an amazing fucking boyfriend. He shows up. This👏🏾 motherfucker 👏🏾shows👏🏾 up👏🏾 He puts the standard so high, making it look like we are all getting treated by our partners like garbage. This dude loves Jimin so much and has always been there for him in so many ways big and small and you want me to pick one moment?

Oh. Unless u didn't mean just one moment in which case forget all that 😁😁😁 here. Have this Jimtiddie as an apology

Tweet

Off the top of my head my dear anon;

Exhibit a) Dieting

So once upon a time, I'm sure we all know the story of how JK got Jimin to stop dieting unhealthily.

(Thanks @sarah2711)

Exhibit b) The live they did after their UN speeches.

V is the one who starts the whole thing by making fun of Jimin apologising after he made his mistake during his speech. (I already talk about JK being there for Jimin here) Other members chime in and at first Jimin is laughing with them. But then at some point he stops laughing, just sits there as they continue to make fun of him. Then he starts chewing on his nails which alot of the time is a sign of nerves

And he absolutely shrinks in on himself. Of course JK notices immediately and that's when he tells the members to cut it out. He tells them how they should be making Jimin feel better. Not making fun of him. Immediately all the members, at the same time, backtrack. They start praising Jimin and saying how they get it.

The whole thing is too long to clip but it all starts at 12:32 here

Because we don't talk about Yoonmin 😏 we have to note that all of them made fun of Jimin but JK only spoke up after Suga said this

🤭🤭

P.s RM also said something but the members only changed their tune after JK did. I have always found this moment so sweet. JK was being protective of his baby here of course. Which goes hand in hand with this post. JK just wasn't having it and I love to see it.

When Jimin was explaining himself,

JK was quietly listening. He didn't say anything until Jimin said this

And we all know JK doesn't like when Jimin is being self deprecating. So it tracks that he comfortingly says;

That, right there anon, was JK showing up like the amazing boyfriend he is.

Bonus with the Jimin jealous moment here. And yes, thats exactly what it was.

More instances of JK being protective of his bf by Kanmom here

Exhibit c) SEVEN

Yes. Seven. The summer song of the year. Love to watch it. Love to hear it. So, I think we can all agree its a sex song. Period. That's what it is. It's a proper love making song. A topic we love to discuss on this side of tumblr.... but, have we stopped for a second to explore the romantic side of SEVEN?

So we established SEVEN is basically satellite Jeon in a nutshell. Which that alone is quite big. Always wanting to be with your person, next to your person no matter what. But JK chasing after his love interest from beginning to end till she gives in shows;

He would do anything for the one he loves. He would walk through fire. Through storms. Go anywhere... if it means its for the one he loves. He is devoted, he is all in. Deeper than the ocean. And this is basically what this post is all about, really. JK's devotion for Jimin. Deeper than the God damn ocean.

Then we have this part

For those who dont know what that means by now, I'll give u a few seconds to go look up the meaning on Google. In the meantime the rest of us will enjoy this cute clip of satellite Jeon who started quite early

Oh you're back! Yes. We can proceed. 😁😁

So what we have discovered is that JK is a generous lover... a considerate lover... Puts his partner first. JK is a "it's okay baby, you can tend to me later, this is about you" kind of guy. He is the "I won't come until you've cum" type of dude.

In other words, his lover is the priority.

Now.

Jikook don't have an only fans so we haven't seen this in action and there4 have no way of knowing that JK is like this in the bedroom. BUT, considering the fact that he prioritises Jimin all the time, we have seen this happen, I dont see why we can't assume this part of him extends to the bedroom too! Right? Like, its gotta be the case.

JK would rather loose provided Jimin wins.

JK always prefering to walk slightly behind Jimin

JK would rather miss out on the last dish and let Jimin have it. (And we know this is huge coz mans loves his food)

Just to give 3 examples that show JK when it comes to Jimin... well, u know. Jimin comes first. Literally and figuratively 😏 So I'm gonna go ahead and politely insist 😂 that the same happens during Sevening. Mkay? Glad we agree 😁😁

Exhibit d) JK always looking to praise Jimin.

(Thanks @tarheelthings)

Jimin made the group ramen (his specialty) and as u can see JK was already telling him how perfect it tastes and yet he hadn't even tasted it yet. Even editors noticed 😂😂

Bv 1 finale no one praises Jimin's santa and he laments as much.

We know our Mimi loves to be complimented and praised; absolutely feeds off of that shit. And JK knows this which is why he immediately tells Jimin "yours is the best" Jimin is so happy to hear this, cheeses so hard that even the editors notice.

Gosh... he was so happy 🥺🥺 Jimin has a praise kink and JK is great at fulfilling this. Aaah. Shit. Now I'm wondering if this extends to the bedroom 🤔 I'm pretty sure it does 🙈🙈🙈

Okay ✋🏽 let's stop thinking about JK calling Jimin a good boy and move on, yes?

Btw, RM too recognises that Jimin loves to be praised and u will see him come through too. But JK is always faster so... 😁😁

Then we have ITS when JK tasted Jimin's food, once again, high praises.

And then when when Jimin says

JK replied "I know."

Something about this moment drives home to me the fact that Jimin doesn't cook well, at home. JK does. But we already knew this from Jin ("Jungkook is Jimin's chef")

On the topic of praises, when other members try to make fun of Jimin JK will quickly make sure Jimin knows he doesn't feel the same way. This and exhibit b are like sisters. They can go hand in hand 😆

So Bon Voyage season 1 Jimin was cooking for Jin. As soon as Jimin placed the plate on the table JK did not once take his eyes off of it.

And, this was after JK kept going to keep an eye on Jimin cooking even though they weren't team mates or nothing. I'm telling y'all, Jimin sits pretty at home while JK does all the cooking. Anyway, when Jin tastes the food he says;

But the way he says it, its like he's taking the piss. It wasn't complimentary. So JK of course went;

And he couldn't get to that dish fast enough

And he devoured the rest of it

While the rest, mind you, are still making fun of Jimin/his dish. But JK didn't give a shit. His baby had made that plate and by God he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Once again, to me, this cements my theory that JK doesn't get to eat Jimin's food often. He gets way too excited when Jimin cooks, can't wait to taste his food, etc etc.

Which brings us to our next example where one time Jimin brought the entire group cucumber drinks and they hated it. Jhope goes on to explain just how much they hated the flavor.

There is a chorus of all the members agreeing with Jhope and even Jimin accepts that the cucumber drinks were terrible. But low and behold, look what the boyfriend had to say about it

Timestamp 4:12 so u can see for yourselves just how much everyone hated those drinks.

(Thanks @tarheelthings and @chicknbunny13)

Look, in JK's eyes, Jimin can do no wrong, okay? To JK, Jimin is perfect and that's that. End of story: No further questions. This behaviour is what I was talking about on my whipped post here.

Exhibit e) When JK checks on Jimin.

I don't gotta show many examples of this we've all seen it. JK always craning his neck over members to see what Jimin is up to. He always likes to know where Jimin is, what he's doing, which imo is amazing boyfriend behavior if u ask me.

A moment I've never seen talked about anywhere from BV 1; JK comes into the RV to check on Jimin who's sleeping.

I know he came to check on Jimin because he walks in, takes a peak, then walks back out. Almost like he had confirmed Jimin was okay and now he could go about his business.

Tell me thats not the sweetest, cutest thing ever!

I've just uploaded 31 images n a video. I don't think tumblr likes me enough to allow me to do more so let's stop here. I hope your Jungkook praise kink has been fulfilled. It was my pleasure.😁😁

He really is a good man. The best. And Jimin deserves nothing less 😍😍😍

[doubledown]

Yall already know the drill no MLM fetish people as for minors go while I'd prefer you not to interact I cant control what you do

So this is abit of a specific fic for a certain someone ( you know who you are pooks 💕 )

The reader is Latino with a brown complextion feel free to imagine them in whatever shade you want

The reader will be male and masc terms will be used for them

Some Spanish will be in this used in this fic but a translation with be provided so dont worry about havin to go to google translate

This will most likely be around 2 or 3 parts depending on my motivation

ALSO I HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE so uh if its not like canon him I'm sorry 🧍‍♀️

Degration, Hook up, Hand job, Public Sex, Cheating, S_lf h_rm ( not described implied tho ), HEAVY Voice Kink

HEAVY on criticism. Trying out a new writing style since I noticed that the one I currently due really doesn't stimulate my brain enough which leads to writer's block. SO YEAH LMFAO HAVE FUN ( P.S THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITEEE AND IT IS KINDA LONG SO SEAT BACKK AND ENJOYYYYYYY )🧍‍♀️

-------------------------------------------------------

Your mama says I'm a fool

And yeah, maybe that's true 'cause I can't

stop thinkin' 'bout you

I'm tryin'

I'm tryin' not to forget my words

'Cause when I'm around you, I tend to keep

changin' my mind

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miguel murmered as the smell of heavy whiskey and cheap liquor crowded around him. He wasn't a drinker at all. He hadn't even thought about it. Well.....not until today. Everything was just going to shit. So he figured he drown himself in something other then self destruction and exhaustion. At least this would kill his worries for awhile after all what's the point of multiverse travel if you couldn't do somewhere where you were unknown? A place you could simply escape without anybody finding you or judging you for your actions. Nobody to put a strong and dominate front for. Just simply unknown and out of touch. " What's on your mind to drink tonight? " The bartender asked abit of a friendly smile on his face. Miguel honestly didn't know what to choose so he just said the first brand of liquor that came to mind. " Just a few shots of fireball.." He said resting his arms on the bar. " Alright hot shot your drinks will be ready in abit. " The bartender said quickly soon off to go take other orders while simultaneously making drinks. He couldn't say he wasn't impressed in all honesty but he had seen it done by failedly by parker. He always tended to try things that really didn't suit him. The bartender looked up and Miguel heart almost sunk in his chest when he spoke. " Buyin a drink or did ya miss me y/n? " The bartender asked leaning over the bar giving a peck on the lips to you.

He couldn't look. He wouldn't look. Yet the gentle rumble in your voice was something that always had a hold on him. " Why not both? " You teased catching onto your lover's lip in your teeth before letting go with a smirk. " You know what I like cariño. " [ darling/dear ] Cariño. Cariño Cariño Cariño Cariño...Even after years away from each other the word still made him his heart burn. Just the way your accent just drove him mad was something that he couldn't even begin to explain. Yet he knew it wasn't his place to feel that way nor right. You two were seperated now. But he wished that things had gone very differently.

" Miguel......Surprised to see you here. " You said your tone neutral but he could feel the hiss of anger in your eyes. You two broke up on a rather...messy note. Things were just too much and miguel wasn't excatly helping with being fuckin spider man and shit. You didn't- No. You couldn't do it. You weren't gonna live in fear that somebody may one day hurt you because they may have followed him home or some shit. So you suggested he retire from doing the whole superhero thing. And he didn't at all take it well. The two of you argued about it for days which turned into weeks. Things were said and one thing led to the other and soon you two weren't even remotely related anymore. He choose people he didn't even know over you. And it stung like hell. But you moved on and forward. And to see him in such a low state....it....it messed with you abit. It brought back some things that you really wished you had buried lower..

" Y/N. It's nice to see you again. " He said with a small smile. You had always been rather...eye pleasing to put it appropriately. Everything just fit so perfectly on you. Every feature on your face to every hair on you head was completely and utterly put together so...Intoxicatingly. And your voice....fuck your voice.... " Ah Im guessin you guys have past? " The voice of your lover pulled him away before his thoughts had a chance to tip off. " Yeah. He's an old friend. " You said simply without bothering to look at the other man. You already you tired from work and really didnt want want to deal with your partner gettin all pissy that your ex is here. " Just a shot of jack daniels Mí Corazón. " you purred. [ My heart ] You knew what your voice did to Miguel. You know what you could gain from him just with a few soft I love yous or just simply saying his name the way he liked. He was a slut for words. Literally. And you had no sympthay for him left in you to care. After all it seemed more like a personal problem then anything. Sucks to suck.

You sat down next to Miguel resting you arms on the bar slightly leaning just enough for that slight arch in your back to show. It was wrong you knew that. Quietly seducing your ex while your partner was right in front of you. But after all you had to return the favor. Finding those texts from all those different guys. You wondered how many times he had fucked some guy while on shift. More importantly how many of them were here now. Miguel was weak when it came to you. He always had been. And the way he shifted in his seat when ever you spoke or the way he seemed so dazzedly focused on your features only proved that he still was a little whore for you. But you weren't gonna simply just give him what he wanted. No. That be too merciful. He needed to beg. Like bitch in heat. He needed to beg like fucking him was a need. Like he couldn't survive without you stuffing him full of what he knew craved.

Miguel cleared his throat and diverted his eyes to his drink as the bartender brough back his drink. " I didn't know you were into liquor. " You said with abit of a curious tone. When did he start drinking?? He always had hated the smell of alcohol at least you thought he did. He used to get onto you about drinking all the time goin on and on about how it could mess up your liver and such. Yet here he was puttin his feelings into a cup. Crazy how things change. " And I thought you didn't fall under stress. " He muttered taking drinking it down in a quick motion. He gagged slightly before swallowing a rather displeasing look on his face. " What? The bite too much for you amor? " [ Love ] You snarked a teasing smile on your face. " No. It's just stronger then what I'm used to. " He mumbled clearly embarrassed by his own reaction. The wound between you too was still fairly fresh. Even more unattended then you both thought. The dismissed jab from Miguel only just proved it.

You swished your drink around not even really wantin it in all honesty. It just felt all surreal and awkward having him around. It just didn't feel natural anymore. And you hated it so fuckin much. Your thoughts were brought out by your rather oblivious boyfriend giving you a kiss on the forehead. " Hey sorry to interrupt you in your space but I gotta head out for a bit. A friend from work needs help movin some furniture. " He said with a smile. " Don't worry about the bar ken is already gettin ready for his shift. " He continued giving you a finally peck before leaving. So that's how he did it. He made a lame ass excuse and left before he could be asked questions. Huh. It was the only thought that came into your mind. At this point feelin guilty was out of the picture entirely. After all if he could go have fun why couldn't you.

You leaned up slightly your left hand grazing the other's thigh as he stiffened. He looked at you confusedly and you simply looked at him for permission. You had always been abit of a fan for open things. It obviously took him a minute to realize what you wanted to do and the clear surprise look on his face almost made you laugh. Yet odd enough he moved his seat abit closer to you despite it. " Hm. Seems like somebody missed old times. " You hummed to yourself teasing his cock through his jeans. He shifted in his seat as he rested his hand on his forehead trying his hardest not to thrust up for attention. You slowly but carefully unzipped his jeans and the entire time the poor man was figiting in his seat. " Desperate much? " You murmed loosely as you teased the head of his swollen cock.

He huffed sharply as he shifted his weight toward your as you wrapped your pretty hands around his cock and pumped it at a rather fast pace. A small whimper came from his throat as you stroked him precum dripping as your pace became relentless. He put his head down on the bar ledge his one hand covering his mouth trying so hard to quiet his soft rambles of pleasure. He twitched and pulsed as what seemed like hours to him as his responses simply got harder and harder to hide. At this point he was pratically mind numb with pleasure and being a whiny mess of a man. Yet you weren't done with your pretty boy just yet. Things were simply getting started.

[homunculus-argument]

The vikings had the right idea with hair bleaching. The thing about blonde nordic hair is that it doesn't stay naturally blond as you grow up - living in Finland I see children with bright white hair all the time, but it usually darkens in your teens, and despite of living in a country that's apparently 80% blonde according to this random infographic I googled in 30 seconds and no other sources, but life experience that doesn't contradict that so I'll trust that source, I have never met a person over 25 whose hair is naturally the light hay-colour that people usually think of when they hear the word "blonde". Blond grown adults usually have hair that's a light, sandy brown that gets lighter highlights from sunlight.

Now we could go into the implications of fetishizing features that do not actually really even naturally occur in grown adults, but I specifically wanted to talk about viking hair maintenance. While the sources are consistently unreliable, the image of a yellow-haired viking probably isn't all that historically inaccurate. The theory that vikings washed their hair with a lye soap to kill off lice and fleas, and the claim that they wanted pretty golden hair just because they considered it attractive and didn't consider it a sin for a man to want to be beautiful the same way that christians did, are both valid and as far as I'm concerned I don't see why they couldn't coexist, if they really did bleach their hair. And I believe that if they could, they probably did.

But I do also believe that it wasn't just about scalp pests. Scandinavian hair - naturally the colour of unpaved dirt roads - is quite thick, straight in texture and falls flatly down along the scalp, and it gets greasy quite easily if not consistently maintained. White people really do need to wash their hair several times per week. I don't know about lye soap but I've noticed that the way modern hair bleach brutally strips the hair and scalp of their natural oils actually does make it easier to keep clean.

I've bleached my hair several times before, and at this point I do it for the maintenance convenience of not needing to wash it as often. For the first several weeks after bleaching my hair, I don't even need to use any kind of products to wash it - I simply comb through it thoroughly before showering to get the oil from the scalp through the whole hair, and rinse it with water, and it looks and feels just as clean as it does after washing it with shampoo. While you're apparently not supposed to dye your hair just before having surgery, I bleached my hair completely white the night before top surgery, not just because I was nervous (having never had a surgical operation before) but to help with the maintenance afterwards.

While I'm too old to be fussing about looking pretty, I know how nordic hair works and what it naturally tends to do, so it makes perfect sense to me that vikings - wanting to feel clean and look hot while raiding and pillaging - would bleach their hair just as much for the convenience of maintenance as for the colour.

[kevin-ar-tuathal]

"Béarlachas"

I've been meaning to write this post for some time now. As a person from the Galltacht (English-speaking Ireland) living and working in the Gaeltacht (Irish-language Ireland), and operating most of my life through the medium of Irish, I can honestly say that English-language Ireland, Second Language speakers of Irish and Learners of Irish tend to have a really skewered understanding of a) what Béarlachas is, b) the different forms it takes and c) what effects/damage/meaning each of its forms holds.

Contents of this post:

•Perceptions of Béarlachas

•Loanwords Vs Béarlachas

•Different Languages, Different Sounds

•Language Purity Vs Language Planning

•Conclusion

Perceptions of "Béarlachas"

Outside of the Gaeltacht, most people's understanding of "Béarlachas", or "Anglicisation" in Irish (which I am deliberately putting between inverted commas!), is the use of so-called "English-language words" in Irish. The usual list people like to list off include:

• Fón

• Teilifís

• Giotár

• Raideo

• Zú* (see Language Purity Vs Language Planning below)

• Carr*

*The ironic thing about the last item being that 'carr' (the word for a personal vehicle) is older than the English-language word 'Car' 🚗.

Second language learners with a bit more exposure to the language deride native speakers, particularly speakers from Conamara, for "using English words and adding '~áil' at the end to make a verb". Several examples being:

• Gúgláil (Google-áil)

• Sioftáil (Shift-áil)

• Sortáil (Sort-áil)

• Péinteáil (Paint-áil)

• Vótáil (Vote-áil)

• Focáilte (F*ck-áilte)

• Supósáilte (Suppose-áilte)

(⚠️NB: it is HIGHLY SIGNIFICANT that I spelt these words in these specific ways in Irish - to be explained below!⚠️)

Other so-called "English language words" in Irish include:

• Veain • Seit • Onóir • Ospidéal • Aláram • Cóta • Plaisteach • Leictreach, 7rl, 7rl...

And what about: "Halla" or "Hata" ??

Loanwords Vs Béarlachas

Before I explain where I'm going with this, I am going to introduce some words that have their origins in other languages, like:

"Seomra" from the Middle French "chambre".

"Séipéal" from the Middle French "chappelle".

"Eaglais" from the Greek "ekklesiastes".

"Pluid" from the Scots "plaide".

"Píopa" from Vulgar Latin "pipa".

"Corcra" from Latin "Purpura" (from before Irish had the sound /p/!)

"Cnaipe" from the Old Norse "knappr".

"Bád" from Anglo-Saxon "bāt".

ALL of these words, like the ones above, came into Irish via the most natural means a language acquires new words: language contact.

The reason WHY the word gets adopted is usually -and this is very important - the word is for something that the culture of the language Borrowed From already has, which is introduced to the language Borrowed Into.

For clarification, what I am trying to say is that languages NATURALLY oppose cultural appropriation by crediting the culture they got a word from by using their word for it...

I.E. "Constructing" a new "pure" word for an item that has come from another culture, is, in effect, a form of cultural appropriation - which is why institutions such as Alliance Française and Íslensk málstöð are at best puritanical, and at worst xenophobic*.

*There is nuance here - there is a difference between institutional efforts to keep a language "pure" (re: those such right-wing English/British and American opinionists who claim that the English language itself is endangered 🙄), and language planning (which also falls under the remit of Íslensk málstöð).

Furthermore, there is also such thing as "dynamic borrowing". This is where technically a language has adopted a word from another language, but has changed its meaning/adapted it to its own need. Let us take two Irish language words for example: "Iarnród" and "Smúdáil"

Iarnród is made up by two words taken from the English language: Iarann, from English language "iron" and Ród, from English-language "road".

Together, these two words mean the English-language term "Railway" - but English has never had the term "Iron Road" to refer to this object.

Similarly, Smúdáil comes from the English-language word "smooth". Only adapted to Irish, and adding the Irish-language verb suffix creates a word which means "to iron (clothing)". 😱

Different Languages, Different Sounds

Every single language on this planet has its own sound system, or "phonology". It is VERY rare for a new sound to be introduced into a different language, and some languages are MUCH more sensitive to what speakers of another language would consider a "subtle" difference, or not a difference at all.

Now...

IRISH HAS DOUBLE THE AMOUNT OF SOUNDS AS THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE!!!!!!!

(^roughly ~ish) I am making this simplistic statement to DRIVE home the fact that what English-language speakers and Learners of Irish hear as "the same as the English", Irish speakers hear a SIGNIFICANT phonetic difference.

All consonants in Irish [B, bh, c, ch, d, dh, f, fh, g, gh, h, l, ll, m, mh, n, nn, p, ph, r, rr, s, sh, t, th] - and YES, séimhiú-ed consonants and double consonants count as separate consonants - EACH have at least TWO distinct sounds. Ever heard of that old rhyme "Caol le caol, leathan le leathan"? Well, the reason why it exists ISN'T to be a spelling tip - it's to show how to pronounce each consonant in a word - which of the two distinct sounds to say.

What I mean to say by this is that, when we adopt a word into Irish, we aren't just "grabbing the word from English and hopping a few fadas on it"; we are SPECIFICALLY adapting the word to the Irish language phonetic system.

I.E. when an Irish language speaker is saying the word "frid" THEY ARE NOT USING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE WORD "fridge" !!!

The sounds used in the English-language word belong to the English language, and the sounds used in the Irish-language word belong to the Irish language.

As a linguist I get very passionate about this distinction - the AMOUNT of times I have come across a self-important Irish language "learner" from the East of the country come to a Gaeltacht and tell native speakers that they are not using the "official" or "correct" version of a word in Irish just GRATES me to no end. PARTICULARILY as these so-called "learners" cannot hear, or typically have made NO effort to understand phonetic differences between the two languages. (Though honestly, on that point, I cannot wholely blame them - it is a fault on Irish language education as a whole that the differences in sound are hardly, if ever, mentioned, let alone taught!)

Language Purity Vs Language Planning

Moving on, as I mentioned earlier, it is very rare for a sound to be adapted into a new language. As many Irish language speakers and learners know, there is no /z/ sound in (most of the dialects of) Irish.

And yet, somehow, the official, modern translation given for the Irish language for "Zoo" is ...

Zú

Whenever I think on this given translation, I am always reminded of a good friend of mine, a lady from Carna, who used to always talk about "Súm" meetings she used to go on to talk with friends and family during COVID.

This woman only speaks English as a second language, having only ever learnt it at school and only ever used it in professional environments. She does not have the sound /z/, and as such, pronounces words that HAVE a "z" in them as /s/ sounds, when speaking in Irish OR in English.

As such, I often wonder how An Coiste Téarmaíochta can be so diligent in creating and promoting "Gaelic" words for new things, such as "cuisneoir" instead of "frid"; "guthán" instead of "fón" (which is actually pronounced "pón" in Conamara, as that suits the sound system of that dialect better); or "treochtú" instead of "treindeáil" ... And then turn around and introduce sound and sound combinations such as /z/ in "Zú" and /tv/ and /sv/ in "Tvuít" and "Svaedhpáil" 🤢

It's such this weird combo of being at the same time puritanical with regard to certain words, dismissive in regards to vernacular communities, and ignorant with regards to basic linguistic features of the language.

(Especially when, i mbéal an phobail, there are already such perfectly acceptable terms for these kinda words, like Gairdín na nAinmhithe for "Zú; Tuitéar and Tuít for "twitter" and "tweet"; and Faidhpeáil for "Svaedhpáil".)

Conclusion

This really prescriptivist approach by Irish language institutions needs to end. Not only is it not addressing or engaging with the Irish language as it is spoken by vernacular communities, it is creating this really twisted dynamic between second-language Irish speakers who apparently "know better" than first-language and native speakers of Irish.

This is what "Béarlachas" is. Not the natural adaption of words from a language with which Irish in the present day has most contact with. Not the dynamic inventions of native speakers, and even Second-language-as-vernacular speakers, utilising all the linguistic features available to them, whether that be their own dialects of Irish, English, or whatever OTHER languages/dialects are available to them.

"Béarlachas" is the brute enforcement of English language mentalities and an obsession with "purity" onto Irish, a language that has FOREVER adopted and integrated words, features and people into itself.

Gaeilge, like Éire of old, like the Ireland I want to be part of today, is open, inclusive, non-judgemental - knowing where it is coming from, and knowing that its community is its strength and key to how it has and will survive!

[directdogman]

Just wanna say that I'm a HUGE fan of Dialtown and DSaF. I absolutely LOVE the storytelling and the balance you have with the plot! The absurdity mixed with logic and realism that paints something that could very well happen is absolutely stunning! I truly admire you and your teams' (assuming it isn't just you but I'm not sure) skills.

I do have a question though! At some point I saw an ask that you answered regarding writing dialogue and the differentiation of writing characteristics in different characters! I have to ask, what does the process look like for dialogue writing? How the hell do you stay in the mindset of the character? It's something that I struggle with way too much in my own writing (with way too many Google searches on synonyms for different words) so I'm wondering what your process is. Especially when it comes to a character lole Oliver, who has a theatrical way of speaking. It feels like there's too little words in the English language but you have this guy that's using all of them in one sentence!

Anyways, hope you're having an awesome day. If not, I hope things improve! I hope this wasn't too lengthy of an ask, haha.

Hey, don't think I'm necessarily a master at this! Hell, you should see how much I have to google word synonyms! Seriously, every time I sit down to write, I do the very same! Even if you become familiar with every word in the English language, you can never really store them all in your head at once! There's people out there who kinda can, but that's the thing, you don't HAVE to be insanely skilled in that way to write compelling character dialogue because I sure as hell am not!

DW, you're on the right track! It gets easier, the more you do it, but there's no real secret to writing really good dialogue (at least, that I know of) other than just writing a lot and when possible, studying writing that you really like and trying to deconstruct what others do (and it sounds like you're already on the right track, in the regard!)

One thing that helps me is being able to think like the character. Understanding how they think, how they feel about the world, what makes them tick, etc. It's easy for me since I write characters that I tend to share some common experiences with (or characters that share traits with people I know intimately), but even I don't delve as deeply into character-psychology while I write as I could. But. I feel I know enough about my characters to understand their 'vibe' pretty well! TBH, sometimes I have to go and replay existing DT scenes just to ensure it all 'sounds' correct. If you get good at this, you can pretty much hear your characters speaking in your head! That makes what you're asking about a hell of a lot easier.

I'm really more of a student than a teacher in the grand scheme of things (I have a lot to learn, myself!) and honestly, just having an interest in writing and wanting to deconstruct the stuff that inspires you is a big plus in becoming a really good writer! As cliché as it sounds, I really am just one dude standing on the shoulders of giants. Never forget that writers who inspire you are in the exact same spot you are. Hope this helps!

[papaver-decervicatus]

Cat/Mouse/Den: Pt. 1, Cat

Alone on wilderness patrol, König’s radio intercepts an enemy transmission meant for a SpecGru sniper. Within a beautiful and capable woman’s crosshair, something electric and treacherous takes root in his heart, and he decides to tempt his doom. It’s a game of cat and mouse, and it’s been far too long since he has had anything worth hunting.

CW: Obsession, stalking, canon typical violence, intrusive thoughts, unsanitary wound care

Authors Note: Huge shout-outs to @kneelingshadowsalome and @sprout-fics for writing some really great fics that inspired me to write this and for being such kind beta readers!

This work is inteded to pass as x reader or x OC in third person POV, German is from google translate, feel free to correct me if you can!

This project started out very small and has definitely spiraled out of control. To all readers, please enjoy and let me know what you think!~ Caedis

Pt. 1, Cat | 1.3k words | König POV | NEXT

“They call you… Maus?” König says into his radio. 

It’s a mistake. That he’s heard the transmission. That he found her position. He’s sure that she sees him, he knows he’s good as dead. 

He’d seen her file in a briefing. Some SpecGru sniper, relatively new to the force. Accolades nothing short of damn impressive but with a general disposition against war. She’s a good rule follower unless she hates the rule and then she tends to do her own thing. Overall, mixed bag, but too useful to refuse. She wouldn’t be on the force if she weren’t some sort of useful. 

Most of what he’d thought was, “Wow, really? That many targets? Seems temperamental. Wish I could’ve been a sniper. Seems much more peaceful.” And then a much quieter, general, passing: “She’s pretty.” 

And that was it, really. When he got moved to solo wilderness patrol, it was Klaus’s idea to give him intel on who he thought would be most likely to be on patrols alone. As the resident wilderness expedition expert, he thought it most reasonable to give König and a few others on similar patrols the basics on her and a few of her comrades. Quite mundane for his line of work, all things considered. 

The irony isn’t lost on him, that him doing the very thing her file warns his upper command about, “doing his own thing,” is what will kill him. He’s out about five miles from where he should be, dangerously far. But, he always had a weakness for the mountains. When he realized his route to do shipment surveillance was close to a ravine, there was no question in his mind that he was going to check it out. 

And it’s got him in a good-looking lady’s sniper scope, right as the sun sets behind her. She’s got a perfect shot. 

What's that silly English phrase? Curiosity killed the cat? 

He smiles about it, though. He’s happy it’s a sniper. Happy it’s a pretty one. 

“You’re not my target.” Is her response. She shouldn’t be able to radio back to him. 

Strange. 

“Not an answer. And who is then?” He quips back into the static, still not quite sure he believes she’s there. Even at every possible disadvantage, this is still his territory, he’s still the king of his little domain, of this minuscule set of battle strip. It’s pathetic, the only place he feels any sort of peace is at war. 

“Negative to both.” 

“Playing hard to get. That’s fine with me.”

He hears her chuckle before she shuts off her end. 

This is… most exhilarating. 

He finds her in the tree line, and he smiles. She’s across the 80-yard-long ravine. There’s a creek at the bottom, and interesting flora marks the cliffs all the way down. He wonders what wildlife drinks from the stream down there and if there are any decent caves he could find an opening to. If any could fit him, that would be. She’s found a good post, in the branches of an inconspicuous tree. That’s right, she specialized in tree climbing and tracking if he remembers her file well enough. It’s a pretty perch, no wonder she chose it. 

A younger part of him is jealous. The older part smothers that part down as he takes in the view. 

The sun is setting behind her. She’s very far away, but his skin prickles to life knowing that he’s being watched. The exposed rock of the ravine flames to life with amazing browns and reds, and the stone sparkles like rubies and tiger’s eye stones as the sun's rays catch it. 

It’s a beautiful place, really. It’s not such a bad place to die, he thinks. She’s a good shot. She’ll do it quickly. Nothing to fret about, really. It’s his own fault, anyways. 

He knows if he runs to or from her, he’s dead. So he stands still. 

Waiting. 

For what?

He doesn’t know. A fairy tale? An Angel? A sign from God? His own comms? The common sense to radio his own and tell them about the fucking sniper in the tree?

He doesn’t know. 

So he waits for her to make the first move. 

“If you turn tail,” She warns, his radio crackling to life, “I won’t shoot.”

He’s going to die, might as well have some fun at it. 

“I will- if you tell me why they call you Maus.” His accent lingers on the word, just about the same in Deutsch as it is in English. Maybe that’s where the Brits got the word from in the first place? Some Germanic mountain peoples from long, long, long ago? 

He can’t see her in detail, she’s much too far. But with his hazy memory of her file, he imagines her face contorted in with the effort of deciding what to do. He thinks of her blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. He thinks about her flexing her fingers around, but not squeezing, the trigger. 

She seems to chew her lip on this one. He already knows her code name, it’ll do very little good or bad for him to know just why. 

“I’ll bite, soldier.” She says, hurriedly, like someone might walk in on their little game. Like the teacher is about to find the two kissing in a supply closet at the school. Like she knows this is bordering dangerously close to bloody. 

“Quid pro quo?” She asks. 

It’s not a no. 

He smiles. His cheeks get red as they flick upwards in a grin of pure giddiness. What a fun way to die. Playing a silly little game like this? Fantastic!

“I think you know.”

“König?”

“Ja.” To his delight, her accent scraping its way around his call sign, the only name he cares about at this point, isn’t half bad. Being so seen on the battlefield should make his chest tighten, but not quite like this. It’s wrong, but then again he actually enjoys war so maybe he’s never quite been right, either. 

“Why?”

It’s his turn to laugh and rush out a response. He sits down on the ground and opens his legs as wide as they’ll comfortably go and rests his cheek in his hand propped on his thigh. If he’s going to die, he’s going to give her a pretty show. He’s going to die comfortably lazing around like a cat on a windowsill, taunting the stray tabby outside who so desperately wants to claw him to death. 

“You first, Schatz,” he downright purrs into his mic. He’s no fool, if he could see her up close, he would not be flirting with disaster like he is currently. 

He can’t see her, she’s much too far away, but he imagines her chest constricting beautifully and her biting her lip. He imagines her lips pressed into a thin line while she claws into her upper arm, trying to regain control. Like it’s all a silly game. And, maybe it is.

Cat and mouse. 

He likes the sound of that. 

Her voice returns to him, low and slow like she’s dragging her tongue over every syllable like she’s trying honest-to-goodness to taste him. 

“Maybe next time, König.” 

He can hear the smile in her voice. Maybe she’s enjoying the game, too?

A shot rings out, and his blood whistles and boils. It hits the tree 6 feet to his left at exact head height. His ears start to ring, but he’s entirely unharmed as birch bark splinters around him. 

“Position compromised, moving.” Is what she radios to her command. 

“Rog, Mouse.” Command calls back. 

He sees movement from her position, but he knows she’s much too far for him to get to her in time. He laughs bright and loud and gets himself up off the ground. 

“Nächests mal, kleine Mäuschen.” Next time, little mouse. He says, to no one in particular. It’s been a long while since König has had so much fun like this on the battlefield. At a genuine disadvantage, put into a position that size and strength alone won’t remedy. And he’s sure as hell not ruining it by telling anyone, no matter how dangerous that is. 

A game of cat and mouse? 

Good. 

It’s been far too long since he had something worth hunting.

[hoshinoyozora]

Roses in the Thorns

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Fae! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

I haven’t seen ch 7 yet, but I heard Mal causes snow too when he’s upset? Idk let’s just say he does that here XD Also the meaning of the title is that rose often denotes romance, but is it really romance in their relationship? @married-to-google-translater

Malleus didn’t really like going home.

Of course, he missed his grandmother that worked hard in his stead. His little rose garden waiting to be tended and admired. And his palace that held the comforting yet no less fascinating gargoyles and grotesques. But he didn’t miss the loneliness of his status and species, the fear from people, and you.

The fiancée that his grandmother set up from some Duke a few centuries ago.

It wasn’t as if he hated you, per se. You did your job as a princess and a fiancée very well, perhaps a bit too well, strengthening Queen Maleficia’s fondness for you. She, out of all people, knew just how lonely he was, regardless of his attempts to hide it, and you were more than ready to spend the next centuries with him. Malleus knew he should be delighted, grateful even, that his fiancée wasn’t a shy or fearful thing. But if he had to pinpoint why he disliked you, he might not be able to answer it quickly.

“Welcome back. I miss you.”

You hugged him tighter and closer than any royal couple had done, than any royal couple was supposed to be doing. You hummed contentedly against his shoulder, trying to sway him side by side. You weren’t fazed by his rigid body, however, and merely smiled up at him.

“The castle feels so lonely without you, you know.”

Malleus squinted slightly. He never really knew if you were jabbing at his little insecurity or if you genuinely felt that way. Maybe he was reading too much into your actions, maybe he wasn’t. Who would’ve known?

“I see. That’s unfortunate.”

A neutral answer; neither sympathizing nor mocking. He pushed you away, gently as to avoid any suspicion from the unseen eyes and ears that your relationship wasn’t as harmonious as it should be.

“Avoidant, as usual.” you mused, trailing after him with your hands clasped behind you. “But allow me to accompany you a bit more, Malleus. Fortunately, I have a loose schedule for today.”

Your smile widened just as your eyes glowed in the dimly-lit hallway.

“Because I knew you’d come back to me.”

Ah, that’s right. He disliked you because of your confidence. While it didn’t exactly tiptoe the line of arrogance, it was still annoying how you thought he favored you any more than he favored other women desperate for his hand in marriage. Then again, he couldn’t really fault you for trying. A cold, formal marriage might be the standard for many royal couples, but a harmonious one – both in public and private – would greatly benefit your relationship and image.

And yet…

“I’m tired. I’d like to rest for now.”

Your confidence wasn’t the main reason behind his antipathy.

“Are you sulking, Malleus?”

It was your perceptiveness. Your ability to make him feel naked, vulnerable, tamed. Lilia had that power too, but he was his caretaker and retainer. He cared about him. While you? You were an enigma. A wildcard. A stranger that his grandmother was forced to marry soon.

“What makes you think so?”

Calmly, you closed the doors of his bedroom.

“Why, your face says it all, of course.”

Instinctively, Malleus touched his face. Was he really that expressive? Lilia could read him, but once again, he was his caretaker and retainer.

You chuckled, “Are you thinking about whether you’re being very expressive right now?”

His eyes widened slightly.

“Well, you’re not. But I’ve spent centuries observing you, so I can pick up all your emotions now.” You peeked through your lashes coyly. “So, did you finally find some joy in that school?”

Malleus resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. He shouldn’t be surprised considering that you were his fiancée, but he knew that had you were more blatant with your ‘observation’, he’d think of you as another Rook Hunt instead.

“I didn’t go there to search for amusement.”

“Oh, really? Not even a new friend?”

“The people there are mostly pleasant.”

You simpered, eyes softening slightly.

“You know I’m not talking about schoolmates.”

“Quit talking in riddles. If you don’t have any business left to discuss, you may leave my chamber at once.”

“Always so cold to me, and yet, you’re strangely warm to that magicless human.”

Stiffening, Malleus whipped around and gripped your arms.

“How did you know about Yuu?”

“Are you really asking me that? I’m your fiancée. I ought to know about your matters, too. How else can I help you if you encounter problems?”

“I already have Lilia with me. I don’t need your intervention.”

You cocked your head in mock questioning.

“Really? Just like how you’re barely invited to any event, including the ceremony? Or how your own retainers forget about you sometimes?”

Malleus ground his teeth.

“I suggest you to watch your tongue if you don’t want to lose it.”

“Oh, but what would people think if they found out that you punished me due to a simple couple spat? And we don’t need to imagine how Her Majesty would react to this. She loves me, you see, and you know it too.”

“Don’t think you’re invincible, [Name].”

“Maybe.” You shrugged carelessly. “But I’m the reason why people started to look at you in a better light now. If I were to, say, complain that you’re being hurtful towards me, they’d sooner believe me over a big, scary dragon.”

His grip tightened. As much as he hated to admit it, you were right. Ever since you got engaged to him, you often invited him to events and used the power of social pressure by displaying affections to him. Of course, Malleus had no choice but to comply and requite the unwanted gestures. And those nobles, foolish little creatures despite the intelligence they touted, immediately believed the act and spread the news all over the country. Now, everyone knew you both as an unconventionally loving couple; surprising but no less heartwarming.

But he could care about his image later.

“Whatever you do, do not harm Yuu in any way.”

You huffed a laugh.

“You wound me, Malleus. When have I ever treat humans so unjustly? They’re a part of our people, too.”

Malleus squinted and opened his mouth to retort, only to close it back. What was he going to say again? That he thought you’d hurt Yuu out of ‘jealousy’ of his friendship? Thinking about it was silly enough; saying it aloud would make him a bigger fool. You probably couldn’t feel jealous, not when you seemed so complacent even in the face of threat. What would you respond later? Another jab? Another sneer?

***

“Lilia, are you the one who told Princess [Name] about me being excluded to school events?”

The cup hovered as Lilia paused to process the question. Peeking up through his lashes, he discerned Malleus’ agitated expression.

“Why, even if I don’t tell her, she can still find out somewhere else.”

“You know I don’t like it when she meddles in my affairs,” Malleus grumbled. “and now she knows about Yuu’s existence too. What if she hurts them?”

“I’ve been observing her, and never once did she mistreat humans. She might seem like a know-it-all, but she’s only trying to do her duty. Let’s not be too paranoid.”

Despite Lilia’s attempt to reassure him, Malleus couldn’t subdue the agitation in his chest. You were too unpredictable, in a way that might just be worse than Lilia. Even if the said fae wasn’t his retainer, Malleus would still trust him to be around Yuu due to his wish for a peaceful life.

Unfortunately, his anxiety was proven true when he spotted you talking with Yuu in the Ramshackle yard at one night.

“Oh, hi, Tsunotarou!”

You glanced at them in bemusement yet devoid of surprise, as if you knew the nickname was harmless. On one hand, Malleus was relieved to know that you wouldn’t scold or punish them for discourtesy like Sebek would’ve done. But on the other hand, he was still angry at your insolence.

“Pardon us, Yuu, but I’d like to speak to her first.”

“Oh, yes. You guys are, uh, dating, right? Go ahead.”

Squinting, Malleus grabbed your wrist and dragged you to a secluded spot.

“Why did you tell them that we’re ‘dating’?! And what are you doing here?! Why didn’t you tell me that you’d come?!”

“I just want to know what compelled you to them. It’s rather baffling, but I think I understand now. That child doesn’t see you for your species, right? They don’t even know about your true name.”

Malleus remained silent.

You simpered, “And it appears that you didn’t tell them about your status too. Why? Are you afraid that they’d change their mind about you?”

“That is none of your business.”

“You know, they’re the one who thinks we’re dating. And they’re not wrong. We are dating, aren’t we?”

“That’s because you’re being nosy!” Malleus hissed. “Can’t you just stop bothering me and let me have some peace for once?!”

Suddenly, your face hardened just as your body went rigid under his grip. It was rather eerie to see you without your calm smile or the way your eyes stared at him without their usual gentleness of complacency. Had he finally displeased you?

“Your grandmother once told me that you liked to read fairy tales and dreamed of happily ever after. I can give you that, and Queen Maleficia knows I’ve been trying for the past centuries, but it seems that my efforts are actually futile all this time.”

You snatched your wrist from his grip and stopped beside him.

“One day, you shall see that I’m the constant part of your life. Not even your fragile and temporary friendship with that magicless human can replace me.” you declared quietly. “And one day, you shall come back to me once the loneliness becomes too overwhelming for you. Because I am the only one you need in your life.”

The wind blew past him, and with it, you were gone. Malleus looked at your empty spot, wondering since when the silence rang too loud in his ears. Then, he scoffed.

How silly. You were useful as a princess and fiancée, yes, but as a companion? No. He didn’t need you platonically or romantically, and he was sure he could live for the next centuries treating you as a business partner or a distant roommate. Just like many others before him.

He could bear with that cold, formal marriage. He was sure of it.

Seasons changed, the calendars turned their pages, and Night Raven College became a distant yet bittersweet memory. Crowley officially failed to bring Yuu home, so Malleus decided to give them a new one in Queendom of Roses so they’d feel close to their friends. It didn’t lessen their eternal anguish and longing, but at least they were able to hide it in the letters and smile at him on the rare times they met. On the other hand, ever since that incident, you’d become distant despite your new status as his wife. Although you were still successful at fooling the nobles with your loving façade, the people close to you managed to sense the wall between you. It was concerning enough until Queen Maleficia decided to confront you both, and with a masterfully calm smile, you replied.

“We simply have a disagreement, but I assure you, it won’t affect our duties or images in any way.”

Malleus could tell she didn’t really believe it, but she sighed in a way weary parents usually did, including Lilia. And you both weren’t exempted from Lilia’s admonishment itself.

For years, the invisible wall remained sturdy, neither heightening or lowering

Until, one day, Yuu died.

Nobody needed to guess who the culprit was when blizzards and thunderstorm kept falling interchangeably around the country. Lilia had implored him to calm down to prevent more deluges in the small villages, and at one point even proposed to visit you for comfort, but Malleus merely lashed out at the latter. How dare he suggest such a ludicrous thing?! All Malleus wanted was to meet his one and only friend again, not you. Never you.

But, alas, Yuu’s fate was already set in stone, and for all his power, there was nothing Malleus could do. The storms had lessened, but dark clouds still lingered in the already gloomy sky. The cloud was heavier around him who refused to leave his room, leaving the court to handle the brunt of his duty. Including you.

“[Name].”

Calmly, you sipped the warm tea and put the cup back to its saucer. You didn’t turn to look at him, but Malleus knew you were listening. You were always listening for him, about him, and the thought strangely flattered him now.

Malleus crossed the drawing room and stood beside you. He stared down at you for a moment before he kneeled.

“You’re correct.”

It was an abrupt apology yet no less sincere. He took your hand from your lap and clasped it within his cold and desperate hands, looking at you pleadingly despite your silent refusal.

“You are… the true constant part of my life. My queen, my wife, and my companion. I was mistaken to believe that my friendship with Yuu could be anything but…” He swallowed the grief and pride. “fragile and temporary, not when they were a mere mortal in my impossibly long life. Forgive me for being so blind and foolish to the truth.”

Malleus rested his forehead against your lap, already resigned to the silence that might stretch on forever. It wasn’t until he felt a hand prod him to raise his head did he obey.

Finally, you looked at him.

“I told you.” you whispered, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “You’ll come back to me. Because you just can’t live without me, can you?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You are the only I need in my life.”

Slowly, you smile widened just as your eyes glowed in the dimly-lit room.

The same confident and complacent smile that he once hated but now loved.

The same confident and complacent smile that told him you won this centuries-long game of cat and mouse.

“Good boy.”

[marciaillust]

Heyooo! It’s me again (i hope i’m not bothering you by asking questions like these) I started making a comic and I’m struggling with the typography

Any tips or recs to look? I really like your work and that’s why I am asking :)

Heyo!

I can dish out a few tips but they aren't really hard rules so take them with a grain of salt and artistic freedom.

The most important thing imo is the presentation of the text on the page. The shape and number of speech bubbles will be registered way before any of the contents so it needs to looks the part. 

The first tip would be generally avoid the speech bubbles being overly thin and long. The example below is pretty tame but believe me, I’ve read comics with the wormiest of speech bubbles and they tend to not look good.

Sometimes the automatic alignment of the text will look closer to a square (especially if there are many short words in a sentence) so feel free to go in and move the text around via the enter key so it looks more like the rhombus. You won't always be able to achieve it especially if the first word in a sentence is long (e.g. the word "hypothetically") but a rhombus should be the goal.

While we're on the topic of speech bubbles I like mine to have really short "tails" (the bits that indicate who is speaking), unless I REALLY want to make sure the reader knows who is speaking in a scene.

 Also I always make the tails point directly towards characters mouth unless it would make the scene confusing (for example if two characters have mouths really close to each other or something, I might make one tail point a bit higher/lower/to the left/right to differentiate between the two speakers. But that’s like a super specific problem and could be avoided with proper frame layout.)

And like, never skip the tails unless its the same character monologuing at length. Nothing breaks emersion more than when you have to stop and turn into an investigator to determine who is speaking in a scene.

Now for the fonts themselves, in my opinion the size of text should be unified between speech bubbles and across pages when it comes to a single font. Example, all casual speech - arial, 14; all thought bubbles - Calibri, 15. 

That is of course unless there is artistic merit to changing the font and/or font's size. Making someone yell, suggesting a threat or sarcasm, indicating a playful tone or something akin to that -  lean into what you're trying to communicate visually.

All fonts are not made equal and sometimes you will have to adjust things manually e.g. letter spacing or line spacing. Generally I try to keep the spacing the same regardless of the font, e.g. "yay exciting" had massive gaps between the lines which I've shrunk to make it look more visually cohesive with the rest of the dialogue. Same with these ones:

At the end of the day typography and everything pertaining to speech bubbles is design work and what designs do is communicate a message and serve a function. I’ve had this picture saved on my pc for years now (reverse google search doesn’t tell me who made it but it’s like the bible to me so I will share it, I am almost certain it was made by tryinghuman but I might be wrong):

Really every part of a speech bubble can be “designed” down to a single word. The position of text, fonts, the shape of the bubble etc. And every change will culminate in an effect and the goal is to have that effect reflect what you’re going for.

Make it legible or illegible, make it see-through, capitalise one word, cover speech bubbles up with other objects, make them crack or fall apart. Not every speech bubble needs special treatment! But once in a while it’s nice to throw something different in to spice things up.

Also, and this is a rule that was bestowed upon me during a graphic design class, don’t use more than 3 fonts per page (again, unless there is artistic merit to it like e.g. purposefully trying to communicate a sense of chaos. Otherwise it just looks a bit unprofessional. In my opinion anyway.)

And the last thing I will say, and this mostly applies to comics in English, is some “speech” fonts include capital “I”s both with and without serifs. The serif I should generally be reserved for the pronoun “I”.

There is so much more when it comes to text in comics like the flow of bubbles across pages, splicing text across bubbles for communicating speech patterns or intentions of the characters, and there are tutorials about it out there but I wasn’t able to find my favourites on command............. sorry................ But I’m peppering this in just so you’re on the lookout for all the other cool things that go into comic making :)

Hope this helped!

[berzahoes]

is she single? | spike jonze

summary: the reader, a famous filmmaker, does the WIRED autocomplete interview and the internet just loves how much she brings up spike.

an: been wanting to write about spike for so long and i’m finally doing it <3 also i think i want to make this into a series because it’s my dream to be a filmmaker and this is the result of me knowing it’s never going to happen 😭 and for this imagine, spike didn’t date sofia coppola so sorry to you sofia coppola girlies

warnings: y/n mention i hate using y/n but it’s just for the intro to the interview SORRY also i tried to use questions that don’t mention physical features like height, eye color, etc.

you smiled towards the camera as you heard counting then the words “wired autocomplete interview, take one!”

“hi i’m y/n l/n and this is my WIRED autocomplete interview,” you introduced yourself. suddenly a crew member handed you a board that had google searches covered by strips of white paper. “okay, let’s see what you all google about me.”

you ripped the first strip off and read the question. “what is y/n’s net worth?” you chuckled. “whatever it is, it should be higher.”

again, you ripped off another piece of paper. “what is y/n’s favorite movie? whenever someone asks me this, i always say the same. my answer has never changed for seventeen years. my favorite movie is jackass number two. not the first one or the third or the show. number two.” you said with the most serious tone ever.

“who is y/n dating?” you read then looked at the camera with a smirk. “oh you know, just this guy who called me a bitch when we first met them almost got me arrested because i punched him.”

“is y/n married? unfortunately to the same guy who called me a bitch. our love story is so beautiful, i’m sure we’ll tell it to our kids as a bedtime story one day.” you joked.

“y/n l/n husband. spike should get that tattooed on his forehead. or when he wins awards, they should announce him as y/n l/n husband.” you put the board on the floor and got handed another one.

“y/n l/n oscars 2018,” you weren’t sure what it was trying to say. you were thinking back to oscars day of 2018. that night you and the cast and crew for your movie had won the major categories, best picture, best screenplay, best director, and best actor and actress. then it hit you. apart from your movie trending that night because of the wins, you were also trending.

“oh! i guess they’re talking about when i gave my speech and i ‘forgot’ to thank spike. he knows that i love him and respect him. a lot of people on twitter were tweeting me some mean stuff like ‘you forgot your husband? why didn’t you thank your man? you’re a bitch!’ first of all, he wasn’t even mad, second, the only person who gets to call me a bitch and get away with it is spike jonze. and lastly, we went out for ice cream after so everyone was happy in the end.” you smiled brightly as you remembered that night.

“who is y/n l/n’s celebrity crush?” spike knew about your many celebrity crushes, but he didn’t know about your first ever celebrity crush. “i don’t know if this is cheesy, it might be now that i’m thinking about it, but whatever. my first, emphasis on first, celebrity crush was and still is spike jonze. i know, cheesy, right? but before i met him, i had this huge crush on him because i saw his picture in this magazine i bought. actually only a few people know this so why not tell the whole world. i went out with this guy and we had the dinner and a movie type of date so we went out to this new restaurant then we went to go see this movie he really wanted to see and that movie was ‘being john malkovich’. we didn’t go on another date after that because a month later i met spike and that’s when the whole bitch and punching thing happen.” you explained.

“well, that was my wired autocomplete interview. i hope you learned a little bit more about me because i tend to over share a lot. thanks for watching!” you waved goodbye to the camera.

TWITTER

@/jonzefilms: can y/n teach me her ways of manifestation?

@/ynsoscar: they’re my film parents and i love them 🫶🏼

@/teenidless: y/n mentioning spike every five seconds is my serotonin

@/filmwhore8: spike jonze? no that’s actually y/n’s husband

@/ilovecatz: when 😭 he 😭 calls 😭 her 😭 a 😭 bitch 😭 and 😭 she 😭 punches 😭 him 😭 and 😭 they 😭 get 😭 married

@/directedbyyn: imagine being excited to see a movie with your date and you lose your date to the director of the movie you went to see

@/lovelyfilms: spike really said “my wife is a bitch and i like her so much”