#baddie mood board

[y-unjis]

[vivihrts]

baby we’re a scandal -

~we’re too hot to handlee~

[melaninmanifestation]

A tale of two personalities.

[008girl]

[meatluvrr]

🩷

[illmaticbaddie]

Soft girl

[soobins--dimple]

Baddie - Jake °✧✧✧

[erwinsvow]

i made a mood board on how i perceive your version of bitchy reader WHOM I LOVE SO MUCH. GIRL THAT WAS SO GOOD I CANT WAIT FOR MORE!! kisses for you 😋

just for fun ofc 🎀🎀

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS SO PERFECT!!!!!!!! babe how did you get the vibesssss yesssss omg the pic with the bows in the hair is exactly what I was looking at!!!! But oh my god I adore every part of this

100% has a yappy little dog who HATES rafe at first like almost bites him first time he goes to her house, cutie baddie outfits and when rafe is like “where tf u goin dressed like that?” she just rolls her eyes like wherever i want!!!! makeup on the floor of his room, he almost slips on a mascara tube not paying attention and she goes “you need glasses grandpa? watch where you’re going and gimme that back” and he’s like u almost just killed me. sarahs mean bestie 🎀 unfortunately so mean to the pogues :( if she haddddd to pick one it would be pope bc he used to tutor her and he was nice but he’s still a pogue so. rafes always maddddd as hell about it even tho it was like two years ago “why the FUCK do you have heywards number saved?” n her response is “dick appt. duh. don’t worry though not anymore now that i have urs !!” also rafe gets sooooo mad he tries to spank her to set her straight but it doesn’t work bc she likes it 🫶🏽

[vivihrts]

𓈒◯ 　◦　 　　 ⁾⁾ 　No Celestial

𓈒◯ 　◦　 　　 ⁾⁾ 　 𓂂 ͏ ͏ ͏❊ ˖ ࣪ 𓂂 ͏ ͏

[a-hermit-pining]

Sukuna as a House Husband

Genre: Fluff Pairing: House husband Sukuna x Reader AN: Might be OOC but humor me people. Coming up Geto as househusband 🥰

First few months of Sukuna's career as a househusband are nothing less than accidents that involved smoke alarms and questionable fire extinguisher techniques. The transition from malevolent kitchen to a less lethal one takes quite a minute.

From handing you Lunchables to becoming pinterest core this man takes quite a journey.

Everyday chores that start with ill concealed annoyance and were in the past pointedly pushed on to you are taken over the minute he notices the residues of shared lunch from another in your lunchbox.

How dare you accept someone else's food? The entire evening, Sukuna glared at the takeout pizza with enough intensity to melt the cheese. You swear the pepperoni visibly cowered under his icy gaze.

And the revelation that some random Joe- Shmoe, a pathetic nameless mortal, had lent you his lunch is enough incentive for this man get in action.

This old man has lived his share of luxury as the king of curses. So, the minute he decides to flex his culinary skills your lunches take an immediate promotion.

The obsolete cooking technique no one can replicate...? You bet he's pulling that.

Puts Uraume on the speed dial as the trials of kitchen begin for him. This time, though much to both their disappointment limited to animal meat.

Does not take long before both become grocery shopping buddies for life. Sukuna scowling at unfamiliar vegetables while Uraume patiently explains the difference between shallots and scallions to his Lord.

Weekends take a turn for the… interesting as you become their resident TikTok handler, phone propped precariously on the counter while they attempt to recreate the latest viral trends. Fruit Roll ice cream remains mind blowingly top tier in your household. Getting a reaction even from Uraume.

Sukuna preens under the praise at office potlucks, basking in the envious stares directed at your lunchbox. Every "wow" and "that looks amazing" fuels his ego.

But the real win? Insanely proud when he sees you take pictures of the lunches he makes and even more so when you show him the stories you post on the internet (save his old soul).

Deep into his retirement phase of immortality, Sukuna discovers the joy of aesthetic. This man takes one look at dark academia, gothic Victorian mood boards and not your living room looks like a lair worthy of a final boss villain (which, to be fair, it kind of already was)..

Super into thrifting or picking a random haunted piece of furniture to add character to your living space as he insists, despite your very real concerns about the wailing coming from the armchair at 3 am.

Still a baddie tho. Will get into fights with loud neighbors or bachelor pad finance bros when their trash isn't sorted properly. And it, unfortunately is your responsibility to drag this man back home.

Cleaning is where he draws the line. You will not spot Sukuna with a duster. Ever. So, hiring a cleaning service seemed like a brilliant solution. Except, Sukuna couldn't resist micromanaging their every move. The poor cleaning staff — a battle-hardened group of professionals — withered under his endless critiques on porcelain dusting techniques. Needless to say, generous tips were the only reason they continued to show up.

The King of Curses, a being who once feasted in halls of obsidian and dined on delicacies fit for gods. Yet, the peace and ownership of your little townhouse is sweeter than any other possession of past. His dirty little heart is endeared to his home with you.

[gretaswhore28]

Noah x type 1 diabetic mood board

A/n: I wanted to make a mood board for my chronically ill baddies like me, I haven’t see it done before so I thought I’d do it💞

Noah dating a diabetic includes

Him researching as much as he can about it. He will text you random things he finds out to ask if they’re right or not. He wants to understand it completely to be able to help you the best he can

He keeps low snacks in his bag in case you forget to restock yours. He also keeps an extra site change if you are a pump user

He’d wake up to your CGM alarms for you and get you snacks if it was low or he’d give you a correction so then you don’t have to get up and fool with it

He’d bring you water when your sugar is high, knowing it helps to bring it down

He gets you all your favorite foods and sweets on your diaversary (the day you were diagnosed)

If he knows you’re tired from your sugar being out of wack, he just holds you while you take a nap

Can and will beat the fuck out of anyone who gives you shit for it

Sometimes refers to you as his “sugar baby”

He randomly quotes “a little bit longer” by the Jonas brothers at you anytime you complain about something small regarding your sugar

His nightstand is STOCKED with juice boxes. He does occasionally steal one at 3 in the morning when he wakes up and is PARCHED

Gets excited when you give him a pack of gummies from your low snacks, he considers it a high honor

[liliesdiary]

Yayyyy!

OkoK!

Can I please get Rick x Bad!Girl/Troublemaker reader pretty please????

With this scandalous photo if you will!

I ALSO LOVE YOUR MOOD BOARDS THEY ARE SUCH A VIBE LOL!

Xoxo, Londyn<333 Love you pookie bear!

Rick Grimes x Baddie

"what are you gonna do officer, arrest me? it's the end of the world I can do whatever I want now."

thank you so much for the request! I loved making this one, thank you for your support <3

[azure-cherie]

Paid services (closed)

Hi lovelies i would like to introduce you to my paid services section, I am an intuitive reader+ a tarot reader , i also have been learning vedic astrology+ persona charts and asteroids , my main aim to introduce this service is to save for my future , along with helping anyone who is in need . I will keep the service open for times when I'm available energetically and not caught up in my life.

DM TO BOOK

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What do your dreams want to convey ? INR 500 , $6.08

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Extras

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Thank you so much for reading, i really really adore youuuu for supporting me sending you healing energy 🌷

[snobunny03]

What’s her name??? Outfit board made by me!!!

[illmaticbaddie]

[witch-and-her-witcher]

neris | T | slice of life, angst, winter solstice | ao3

The path was a little bumpy and a little elf had to pick up your gifts along the way to deliver, @kix-j! I wasn't your original secret santa, but I'm so excited to share this fic with you for @acotargiftexchange! Also, please enjoy the mood board and playlist to accompany these baddies being a bit sad together.

It goes without saying, but thank you @wilde-knight for the read through and @iftheshoef1tz for the supportive discussion! <3

~*~

Mist creates a watery haze outside the open windows. 

The window panes are dotted with rain and condensation from the warmth of the fire meeting the chill of the December air, creating a spectacle of colors reflectant — evergreen and brown from the pines along the cliff’s edge, the vast gray-blue of the churning ocean, as well as the warm ember yellows, oranges and reds from twinkling string fae lights along the mantle, the roaring fire.

The air is just as crisp to inhale with the snap of humidity, the underlying brine of the ocean.

The eastern coast of Autumn.

Eris has promised to bring Nesta, and finally they’ve found the time to secret away to the cliffside retreat.

It’s more soothing than she ever could have recreated in her mind, even with Eris’s vivid depictions of times past. Now that Nesta is here, enveloped in the oceanside and forest, embraced by nature’s harmonized production of chaos and stillness, she can’t imagine spending time anywhere else.

You belong, the raindrops pattering on glass and cedar say.

You are safe, the warmth of the soundless fire caresses against her skin.

You are seen, the crashing waves call to her.

Home, Eris’s hands wrapped in hers promise. 

Rubbing circles absently, Eris seems hardly aware of the contact as he stares out the open windows and takes in the same scenery. Music plays in the background, heavier in low brass instruments as he claims is more appropriate for Winter Solstice than her favorite piano pieces. 

He isn’t wrong. The rich melody is warm and cozy like sitting cuddled up amongst the cushions and woven blankets on the couch with a partner and a warm drink. Free and easy like the temporary reprieve from everyday tasks and responsibilities.

Not that Nesta will admit it to him.

Directing her gaze to his face rather than the scenery, she wonders if her eyes reflect the ocean colors in compliment the same way the fire dances like it belongs in his amber stare.

“Still want me to close the window?”

Eris blinks down at her, as if he’s been startled awake. “No, it’s fine,” he says, voice gruff from the stretch of time they haven’t spoken a word. Entranced in a wholly fae way, a thrall Nesta never could have maintained as a mortal staring out of an open window — even to a view as picturesque as this one.

“Will you admit I was right, then?”

“Foundationally, it still makes no sense. It’s a waste of energy to keep the room warm with the windows letting in the chill.”

“Don’t want to take the excuse to use body heat to compensate?”

Eris’s lips curl into his devilish smile. “Was that your plan, Archeron? Not well thought through, there is fire coursing through my blood.”

“You’re so conceited,” Nesta says, studying her nail beds. It’s too difficult to maintain a petulant tone when she’s busy getting lost in his pleasing features. “I was only trying to make up for your own lack of imagination, provide you with the material to make a move.”

Eris sips from the ceramic mug with his mulled wine, the soft breath from his nose wafting the spicy, holiday scent towards Nesta. He squeezes her hand in his. 

He doesn’t answer because they both know she’s full of shit. Eris’s thoughts are made of nothing but moves. Maneuver after maneuver to shape the world to his will. To predetermine the outcome to his benefit. It’s why she’s sitting here now, a grand proclamation and then minute movements to shape the possibility of this reality.

Which means, Nesta is to his benefit.

She thought at first just politically, maybe even to spite her brother-in-law, but now …

It’s all of that, but more. The benefit is the way he looks at her now, the tension eased from his features and the gears whirring only at half speed behind that calculating gaze.

Unable to resist any longer, she lifts her fingertips to his jawline. Traces the freckles that dot along the sharp shape of him.

“What thoughts were you so engrossed in?” she asks as he tilts his chin up, giving her better access to follow the constellations down his neck.

“Truthfully?” His voice vibrates under her touch and Nesta smiles, pleased with his display of trust. Lady Death has her grip on his throat, and her Autumn prince can care less. “I wasn’t thinking of much beyond the waves.”

“That’s rare.”

“It is. I can’t remember the last person I could sit with and have my mind drift so easily and not worry about where the proverbial knife in my back could come from.”

Nesta’s hand dips down along his thickly knitted, creme sweater, down to his waist where she knows he keeps a knife tucked away. “I could make this more exciting for you if you would like. Unfortunately, my attacks are much more straightforward. Nothing beyond a block or counter strike to plan against.”

He shivers unbidden as her fingertips caress the skin just above the dagger’s hilt.

“Don’t be humble, it doesn’t suit you,” Eris says. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“Where’s the air left in the room for me to blow smoke? You took it all.”

“Tch.”

“Tch.”

Eris leans his head back on the sofa, pulling Nesta flush to his sculpted chest, easy to feel even under the thick material of his sweater. She settles back comfortably. Eris winds his arms around her middle and Nesta tucks her toes under his calves for warmth.

“Nap and then walk.”

Nesta hums in agreement, lashes already fluttering shut.

“Watch out —”

Nesta shrieks as she nearly loses her footing on the slick leaves coating the narrow trail darting between pines and mostly bare deciduous trees — the culprits for the slip hazard. Strong hands yank her back before she can teeter off the trail etched into the cliffside or stumble onto her hands and knees.

“You’re very bad at this,” Eris chides, not releasing her hand once Nesta is firmly on her feet again.

She doesn’t mind the anchor between them. Eris is always warm and it carries through their joint touch.

“Where I trained, there were more arrogant males kidnapping me and leaving me for dead … and less wet leaves. I’ll correct that error in the future.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“Oh?”

“No more training.”

“Oh. Right.”

Nesta stares out at the rocky beach coming closer with each tenuous footfall. She’s careful how and where she sets her brown leather boot, trying to use those instinctual fae senses in the way Eris has tried to teach her. To feel out the shape of the land beneath her, listen for the way it wants to be tread on.

You sound so old when you talk that way, she teased, and then added, Oh, wait —

He’d cut her off by scooping her off her bare feet, curling her legs around him while he pressed her back into the bark of an oak tree. Shown her that despite his centuries of knowledge gained, other parts didn’t shy away from a young male’s work. Like putting his back into it.

Those scrapes from the tree bark in her back had been the most delicious pain to tend to the following evening.

When she’d finally joined him in Autumn, he’d sworn off mandatory training, but it didn’t mean there weren’t lessons. They simply aimed to familiarize herself with her body, mind, grounding her as a fae rather than honing her as a weapon.

Nesta looks out at the blacks and grays of the stony beach and black, silty sand mixed amongst it all. Listens to the way the rocks roll back and forth over each other as the tide pulls them to and fro. Searches for a bridge to what was and what is.

No more training.

There’s still the occasional jolt of anxiety that she should be making herself useful, needing to seek her sense of belonging in the training arena — and then reminding herself that isn’t how she needs to go about it. Was never really about her, while it had helped, it had been someone else’s form of self worth projected onto her.

It’s been months and Eris still has to remind her she doesn’t have to fight to master herself, to prove anything.

Occasionally she misses the strength, the power, at the tips of her fingers and toes, her blade’s end. The lethal beauty of it all. The control of it all.

But mostly she feels relief. 

She rubs her chest absently.

“Stop thinking about it.”

She huffs. “Right.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are,” Nesta tuts, casting a look over her shoulder. Eris’s hair is tousled handsomely from the wind and his gaze cuts straight through her. “And should I stop thinking about it tonight, when we’re in my sister’s home to celebrate her birthday and Solstice?”

“Preferably,” Eris says. “Gives them less control over you. Worry about nothing but how good-looking the male on your arm is.”

“Gods. Are we really going to go together?”

“They’ll find out eventually.”

“It feels suicidal.”

They’ve completed their descent to the beach. Nesta follows Eris’s lead, picking along the ground to find a few good stones to begin chucking into the sea foam and waves. They face the ocean, comfortable in the sound of breaking waves against the jutting cliffside some leagues away and nothing more for a stretch of time.

“Maybe we don’t go.”

Nesta raises a brow. “Really? You’d give up the drama of such a grand reveal?”

“Under the right circumstances, I could be convinced. Although, it would be such a loss. To miss Rhysand’s face when he realizes where you’ve been hiding. A good reminder I can keep a secret from him if I want to.”

The male satisfaction of it all is clear on his face. Nesta herself wouldn’t mind sticking it to Rhys. But … She’s not sure she’s ready to face her sisters yet. The sting of betrayal is still raw.

And as for her mate.

Nesta worries at her bottom lip.

“Hey.” Eris turns, cups her chin and places his thumb on her lip to quit her worrying. “It will keep. I can still get my dramatic reveal without ruining our getaway. Your family will just have to learn you’ve been sleeping with the enemy another time.”

“You enjoy this too much.”

“I’m five hundred years old, dear. These moments don’t come about every century, especially with the likes of Rhysand. He keeps his cards close to his chest.” Amber blazes with the heat of too many centuries of history Nesta can’t begin to grasp. “I can enjoy your company deeply for the magnificent creature you are while dually indulging in a sense of victory. I’m allowed the occasional bout of pettiness.”

“Once a century.”

“If that. Realistically, every other.”

“Gods, you’re old.”

The insult bleeds through the sentiment she knows he’s trying to get across on reflex.

She stares up at him, searching for sincerity or that cunning flicker of a tell. Looking down at her along the blade of his nose, Eris keeps his expression open, confident, certain. Unperturbed even by her knee-jerk reactions. Youth, he’d told her another time when her mouth had run away from her.

It’s almost too much. Nesta wants to look away, to not have to face how sure he is in all of this. When she still searches for cracks in all that he’s laid out for her, in all that they’ve already laid bare for the other. She wants to hide away the vulnerabilities this male sees — sees and accepts. But the hand on her chin doesn’t allow her too.

She closes her eyes and exhales through parted lips. Tries to calm her frantically beating heart.

When did that start?

“What?”

“Nothing.”

It’s Eris’s turn to huff, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he tucks her close into the space against his chest where he can set his chin on her head, wrap his arms around her, and she doesn’t have to bare it all straight to his face. Nesta curls into him, relishing how easily they slot against one another, in the easy passing of understanding.

They’re both difficult people, but they’re difficult for a reason.

A strong wave crashes and sprays them, but it only joins the mist hanging in the air. The moisture is curling the ends of Eris’s hair and Nesta is sure her hair is frizzy from it, but she doesn’t particularly care.

“I like it here,” she says into his sweater.

“Me too.”

“It’ll still be here even if we go for an hour.”

“It won’t be an hour, you know that.”

After the initial shock, they’ll want to get them drunk to ply for answers. Rhys loves any excuse to tear through his wine cellar and Nesta’s reappearance with Eris Vanserra, in a romantic relationship no less, will free every cork he swears has cost him a small fortune a piece. The schmoozy interrogation, the looks of dismay her sisters will give her and the guilt Nesta will feel as soon as Feyre brings up the baby …

“Does it make me weak? To not want to face them yet?”

Eris hums, the sound rumbling in his chest against her. It inexplicably comforts Nesta to her core. Knowing that when Eris considers matters, it's not lightly or to sugarcoat her feelings, but with careful judgment, weighing facts. That’s why Nesta is prepared to ask questions she only wants to hear a real answer to.

“Weakness would be bending to anyone other than yourself. They don’t control you, Rhysand isn’t your High Lord any longer. They’re just family and being uninterested in their particular brand of overbearing, backstabbing, and tongue-in-cheek pleasantries isn’t weak. It’s strategic.”

“Is this from personal experience?”

“You see where we are for Winter Solstice. If I had to breathe the same air as my brothers for another minute longer, I’d likely stab one of them.”

They could use a stabbing, any one of them. But Nesta can read between the lines that any boiling over emotions wouldn’t be useful now. Eris has bigger plans and he needs his brothers aligned and on his side, annoying and horrible as they are.

Nesta pulls away from him. “Ready to walk back?”

Eris nods. He gestures for her to go first. Nesta grins knowingly, turns with a swish of her hips. If she asks, he’ll say it’s to ensure she doesn’t fall off of the cliffside — but the simmering heat in his gaze as he watches her backside will say otherwise.

“I can think of better ways to stay entertained this evening besides sitting around a stuffy Night or Autumn Court party.”

A shower and dinner pass pleasantly. 

Nesta feels warmed through as they sink back into the sofa with books perched on either side, feet kicked out on the plush ottomans. Between the food, the wine, and the fire, it’s nearly too much to add touching Eris as well. There’s a healthy flush to his high cheekbones, up to the tip of his ears, that she’s sure is reflected on her own features.

“Well?” Eris conjures the bundle of Solstice gifts Nesta had painstakingly shopped for and wrapped leading up to today. “Are we arriving late to exchange gifts?”

By now, it’s surely been thoroughly discussed over dinner how Nesta has returned to her flaky habits. Not bothering to arrive with the plus one marked on her note of untraceable origins.

Nesta’s full stomach curdles at the thought of all of those harsh, judgemental eyes on her once again. Exhaustion runs through her to consider the amount of energy needed to combat that level of criticism, spoken or not — shared in the open, or mind to mind.

Leaning forward, Nesta snatches the bottle of dessert wine the northwestern province of Autumn is known for. The grapes there reach the perfect frost several times a year due to proximity to Winter and the vignerons work like fiends to harvest and press the delicacy. 

She pops off the cork.

“We’re staying, get rid of the other gifts however you want.”

She tosses back a swallow of the sweet alcohol straight from the bottle. Eris lifts his hand to flick the remaining bundles to another pocket realm, to some charity organization’s front stoop, she doesn’t know —

She launches forward to grab the simple, brown paper wrapped box with the loudest bow on the top before the parcel can disappear with the others.

“Except …” She considers the present, the recipient who will neither care nor know who the giver is. Sweet, innocent baby Nyx. “Send this one to the River House.”

It’s gone in a puff of ozone and charred oak. The scent of Eris’s magic lingers, but his attention span for the issue dissipates just as quickly as the gifts themselves.

“Feel better?” he asks, lacking any emotion outside of cool interest as he assesses her.

Nesta takes one more guzzle of the wine for effect and then sets it aside. “Yes.”

“Good,” Eris says, turning to face Nesta. “Because you mentioned something about better ways to spend the evening.” He places a hand on either side of her head while stretching his impossibly long body over hers, hovering just without touching aside from where his knees straddle her, pulling down the cushions beneath them. “Yet all you’ve done is tease.”

“Tease? Me?” Nesta says into the space they share breath, Eris’s lips painfully close. Her nerves tingle with the desire to touch, to press her mouth against his. To swipe her tongue inside of that now familiar warmth and forget all about troubles in her mind that preside in the far north of Prythian.

“You,” Eris confirms in a low growl. He doesn’t wait any longer, angling down to slot their lips together and stealing the breath from her.

Nesta’s toes curl in her thick socks. 

Eris kisses her with scorching desire. Licking the lingering taste of the dessert wine from her mouth and luxuriating in the soft sighs he pulls from her. Nesta bunches her hands in his sweater at his sides and tugs him closer.

“I can’t let my reputation suffer then,” she says against his lips, lashes parted enough to see the lust heating Eris through if his hot skin weren’t enough to give away his flush. “Let me see to that.”

Eris smiles devilishly. “Show me your worst, Archeron.”

Her stomach coils low with arousal and Eris rumbles against her with satisfaction as the scent of just what he’s doing to her curls around them.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, Nesta pulls Eris down to meet the rest of her body craving to feel his comforting weight. As if by osmosis she may gain some of his unfaltering confidence. It’s a fool's errand, by all accounts. To try and master in a few months what it's taken him to gain over centuries. 

But as Eris deepens the kiss and shifts his hips along hers, his own interest heady in the air, Nesta thinks the effort will have a benefit either way.