#god i love drawing strong women

[purensanity]

It’s Ami time! I liked her older hairstyle better, but that’s just me. Now only Isabella is left ✨

[detectiveneve]

tenderly holding all astarion with masc/gnc women ships 😌 thank you for your service

[thekoiboi]

So I got into Dead Cells a few weeks ago :3c

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

he would never admit it to anyone, but dick grayson loves it when you get a little jealous. or, rather, he loves making it up to you after the fact.

it’s not unusual for him to be at the receiving end of suggestive remarks and lustful gazes. he doesn’t go out of his way to make it happen, and he never entertains other women’s flirtatious comments, but when your boyfriend looks like that, there’s no avoiding it, really. so when he invites you attend a wayne gala at the gotham museum of antiquities, it takes more than a little self-control for you to stay calm.

three hours in, you’re one “gosh, you’re strong! and those eyes,” away from causing a scene with a glass of red wine. ever-observant, dick squeezes your side softly as he excuses himself from his conversation with another tall socialite, guiding you to the perimeters of the room.

“what’s wrong?” he smirks. asshole. you narrow your eyes at him before looking away, trying not to snap at him. you know it’s not his fault.

“nothing. I’m fine.” lie. he laughs softly and settles his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. he’s going to enjoy this.

“come on, baby,” he pleads. “these ladies are big donors, that’s all. I gotta keep up appearances.” you meet his gaze once again, your lips in a tight line, and his smile widens. “what, are you gonna make me beg for forgiveness?” you say nothing, but you notice a gleam in his eyes that sends heat rushing between your legs. his grip on your hips tightens as he leans in close. “alright, pretty girl. let me make it up to you.”

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

“d-dick…” you gasp, trying to keep your voice down. there’s no need, really; the museum’s marble bathroom stall, paired with the string quartet performing at the gala, muffles your moans well enough.

your black gown is bunched around your waist, and dick’s suit jacket lies discarded on the floor, along with your underwear and stilettos. you shakily hold yourself up on the marble sink with one hand, the other wound in dick’s soft, black hair as he kneels between your legs.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he coos, pulling away from your dripping core. you whine at the loss of contact, and dick chuckles at your misery. his lips glisten with your fluids as he trails one of his slender fingers up your inner thigh. “talk to me.”

“keep going,” you breathe, widening your legs involuntarily. “please, dick, god—” you’re cut off by your own moan as he slides two of his fingers inside you. his lips return to your needy clit, sucking hungrily as his other hand snakes around to grope your ass. your legs begin to shake as he speeds up his pace, and his eyes look up to meet yours. you see him smile against your pussy as his fingers hit that spongy spot in your walls, drawing out an incoherent string of profanities with his name woven through them.

seeing you like this drives dick crazy, and he’s unsure if you know it. the way your body responds to him is one of his favourite things, even if sometimes he plays little games to get you where he wants you. the sight of your expensive dress crumpled up around your contracting abdomen has his pupils blown wide. god, you’re so fucking beautiful. his cock strains painfully against his pants, but he ignores the ache in favour of working your pretty pussy the way only he knows how to. besides, he knows you’ll take good care of him later.

you feel the coil in your belly tighten until it starts to snap, your orgasm drawing dangerously close. dick curls his fingers again, coaxing you to the edge. thoughts of the gala unfolding right outside slip from your mind, and your knees buckle as you reach your peak. “dick, fuck, I’m—”

your breath hitches as you cum over his fingers, and you’re grateful his arms are there to keep you standing. his tongue works you through your climax until you’re bucking your hips away from the stimulation. he pulls away from your aching core, gazing at the glistening mess between your thighs with pride.

he rises to meet your eyes and kisses you hotly, your high still on his lips. you clutch at his shoulders, breathing in his scent as you kiss him back. his muscular arms trap you in a tight hug, and his piercing blue eyes crinkle at the corners with the boyish grin that spreads across his face as he takes in your dazed expression.

“so,” he says smugly, gently running his thumb over the corner of your lip where he smudged your lipgloss. “am I forgiven?”

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: douma & akaza as boyfriends

characters: fem!reader x douma, akaza

warnings: implied death, nsfw themes (no actual smut)

DOUMA

god he’s so fine for what

first off douma has trouble understanding human emotions

and dawg prefers to eat women

so the fact that y’all are dating??

ur special fr fr

you are so spoiled

douma = sugar daddy

u have one of his followers from his cult following u around and taking care of any and everything that u want

u mention seeing something in a store that u liked?

douma will have it before the end of the day

you’re like a little doll to him

he enjoys dressing you up in the cutest outfits, experimenting with different hairstyles, and playing with your makeup

teases the hell outta u

he thinks your reactions are amusing

especially when u do that cute little pout

or the puppy dog eyes

and don’t even get me started on when he makes u upset

he LOVES that shit

he always makes it up to you tho

but let a member of his cult tease you? or make u upset??

there will be hell to pay

he’ll take their head clean off their shoulders right then and there

won’t even bat an eye

so touchy

glued to u

ur sitting in his lap during cult meetings

he’s holding ur hand

he’s got an arm thrown around ur shoulders

he’s running his nails up and down ur arms so he can watch u shiver and get goosebumps

ur mad at him? maybe yelling at him abt something?

not anymore

he’s got his hands on ur face and he’s squishing ur cheeks so u can’t talk

thinks ur expressions are adorable

now douma sounds like a great boyfriend so far

but this man is MEAN

low key only keeps u around because u entertain him

i mean he’s been alive for so long and experienced so much

mans gets bored

BUT!!

if yalls relationship miraculously progresses past this

he’s turning u into a demon

that way u can stay with him forever

and he’ll never get bored of u

how could he when ur the first person to actually make him understand emotions?

especially an emotion as complex as love <3

but his true nature

comes out in the bedroom

dawg is EVIL

100% will make u cry

humiliation!!!

he’s a biter

ofc he is

idk somethin abt seeing his marks on you rly gets him goin

biting down just enough to leave a mark but not to break skin

yeah

id let him step on me

AKAZA

best boyfriend ever

no harm will ever come to u

protective asf

ur nocturnal at this point

bc ain’t no way ur leaving the house without akaza

so u gotta wait til it’s nighttime so he can come with u wherever ur going

such a gentleman ong

he’s holding ur hand to make sure u don’t get separated in crowds

or he has a hand on the small of ur back to guide u while u walk

he’s pulling ur chair out for u to sit down

he’s holding doors open for u

brings u flowers all the time

instead of looking for that blue spider lily for Muzan?

he’s picking u a bouquet of wildflowers

gonna get his ass kicked for that by muzan but oh well

100% the bf that’ll slow dance w u in the rain

with no music

ugh he’s such a romantic

god he loves u so much

and he makes sure u know it

words of affirmation!! all the time!!!

now

he’s a sweetie

but y’all ever heard that one phrase

and it’s like

gentleman in the streets freak in the sheets?

mhm that’s him

dude strong as fuck

and his STAMINA?

babe u are worn out

so many rounds

so many positions

u can’t keep up

ain’t no way i’m sorry

but the aftercare is on point

when he’s done puttin u through the ringer

he’s drawing u a bath

and making sure u drink some water cause u lost a fuck ton of bodily fluids i’m sorry

gross

cuddle bug!!

and the pillow talk!!

he’s the best

i love him sm

[justanoasisimagines]

Pick Me

Summary; Ser Harwin Strong is enamored by you as you are him. However, your betrothal to Lord Jason causes both of you distress. You don't want to marry Lord Jason. Harwin doesn't want you to marry Lord Jason. So what happens when Lord Jason gets cocky on the training grounds… Pairing; Harwin Strong x Female!Heir!Targaryen Reader WordCount; 1,542 Requested by; Anon Warnings; Violence, Strong Language, Misogyny A/N: I've not written anything this long on here before. I really enjoyed it! Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune & @zaldritzosrose for the dividers and banner

The wedding preparations were in full swing. Tourneys and great feasts. Beautiful flowers were being brought in from far and wide. Maids' and servant's duties had grown, preparing for the day.

Much of the preparation had landed in your hands. You'd found it all pretentious. You understood that as heir it was your duty to provide such an event. To introduce your husband to the realm.

However, if you were being truthful, duty was the only reason you were going along with this facade in the first place. You didn't wish to marry lord Jason Lannister. Your heart didn't belong to him. He was rather repulsive in his views on women. Especially on what they were capable of.

Your heart belonged to Sir Harwin Strong. Harwin was attractive, kind, and the strongest man in Westeros. He valued your opinion on issues. He was a gentleman who made you feel safe and protected.

Ser Harwin was everything Lord Jason was not.

Perhaps you'd be mistaken but you'd presumed Ser Harwin had felt the same towards you. The longing glances, the light flirtation exchanged between the two of you. The subtle touches whenever he walked past.

it was safe to say your heart broke when no declaration came. When each suitor made their intentions known, you'd prayed to the God's Ser Harwin to be next.

You attempted to bury your disappointment, but you couldn't. You'd much rather marry a pig than Jason Lannister.

You needed to face facts; you were never going to be Ser Harwin's wife.

Harwin swung the sword with all his strength as a result of the ear-piercing clang. He followed through several movements he was well rehearsed in. Training was necessary if he intended to remain strong.

Swing. Turn. Dodge. Defend. Swing.

A mighty roar as his thoughts broke his concentration. Why couldn't he gather the courage to confess his feelings towards you? Why couldn't he have you in your arms? Why wasn't he going to be the one declaring to the realm you were his wife?

The answer was simple. He had become a coward.

His heart pounded at the mere thought of you. His palms began to sweat with each interaction. He found himself purposely attempting to draw a smile from your lips.

If Harwin longed for anything it would be to call you his wife, for you to be the mother of his children.

His heart sank. He swung his sword desperate to escape the torment in his mind as he attempted to focus on the present. The newly constructed plan shattered around him when Lord Jason entered the training grounds, sauntering around like the cat who'd got the cream.

Harwin's mood shifted. No longer was he pinning for the woman he was desperately in love with. Sorrow morphed into anger. Harwin wanted to rid Lord Jason of his persistent smug smirk.

"Good Ser's, I have come to train with you before I take on the greatest challenge in our world, taming the dragon which is the Princess," Lord Jason declared loud enough for the entire grounds to stop their duels.

"The Princess is your future Queen, Lord Jason. Perhaps you should regard her with respect," Harwin retorted. Harwin's jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other. Lord Jason was known to be boastful and rude, but to talk so willfully against the Royal family, Did he believe he was untouchable now? Perhaps he simply did not care.

"This is what I'm allowing her to believe. She will simply learn I will make the decisions on what is to be. All she needs to concern herself with is baring my sons." With a smirk, Lord Jason stalked around the training grounds as if this were Casterly Rock.

Lord Jason was a male lion patrolling his new territory. Attempting to assert his dominance amongst the other men.

Lord Jason Lannister may be a lion. He didn't have the feline reflexes; Harwin swung his arm, fist colliding with Lord Jason's jaw.

"How dare you speak about her like that? She is more than a vessel to bear your sons. She is kind and thoughtful, brave and one of the strongest women I've encountered. I believe you are unworthy of the Princess's hand."

Lord Jason spit blood from his mouth, "When she is my wife, you will have no say on how I treat her. She is no longer your concern. Strong! The Bitch is mine." Harwin roared with a great might. Chest heaving as he proceeded to tackle Lord Jason to the ground.

Harwin laid down a rain of fists on Lord Jason. He didn't care where they lay home. Lord Jason attempted to defend, yet they were feeble and didn't amount to much. Lord Jason could use his words like a great scribe, but a warrior he was not.

Six men attempted to pull Harwin from his onslaught. Six men failed. Harwin was a man possessed. No one could stop him. Even as more men toppled onto Harwin, Lord Jason was a bloody pulp.

"Harwin! Stop!" Harwin's fists hung in the air upon the sweet sound of your voice, Sir Criston following behind you. As he turned, he glanced down at his busted fists. When his gaze met yours, confusion crossed his path.

You remained perfectly composed. Your expression was unreadable as he pulled away from Lord Jason, crossing the short distance before collapsing at your feet.

"This beast needs to be executed! He's-he's dangerous. Is the caliber of man you allow in your court?" Lord Jason was doubled over in a pool of his own blood. Your eyes briefly flickered towards him before lowering to Harwin, your hand brushed his jaw softly.

"If Harwin didn't lump you one I would have done." Another knight called out.

"Why Ser Byam? Ser Criston would you fetch some salve and wraps for me please?" Ser Criston nodded, leaving the courtyard in haste.

"For speaking ill of you Princess. Never heard such utter shit in all my life. Harwin had every right to knock his lights out-"

"Don't you dare regard me, you absolute half-wit. I am to be your King!" With a brow raised at Lord Jason's words. You had been told for the past several nights and days how Lord Jason was boasting about the power he'd soon have. You never believed him to be fool enough to voice it within your presence.

"Don't marry him! Princess, you can't marry him." Harwin pleaded. You ran your hand along his chiseled jaw.

"Who do you suggest she marry Breakbones? You?" Lord Jason scoffed as he spat blood onto the ground.

"He's a much better match for her," Ser Byam retorted.

"Marry me, not him. I know I am not well-versed in court politics. I know my family is not as wealthy as the Lannisters, however, Princess I can provide you with what's important"

"Will you rule beside her like a dutiful husband.? Taking orders from a woman"

"Say another fuckin' word and I'm taking ya tongue out. Posh Bastard." You stifled a laugh as you kept your gaze in Harwin's blue eyes. Just as Ser Criston returned with the wrappings and salve, you requested. With them in hand, you knelt in the dirt covering your red dress in brown splotches.

"Princess, your dress."

"Relax Ser Criston, I have more dresses. What can you provide me with Ser Harwin?"

"Love and honor, someone you can confide in, who will always tell you the truth. I would destroy armies for you. I would break my own bones for our children; Son or daughter it doesn't matter to me. As long as they were healthy. I am well verse in what I undertake by asking for your hand. Yet I am willing to rule the Seven Kingdoms by your side. Unlike some who wish to take your hand to future their own endeavors."

Gently, you placed Ser Harwin's hand in yours, applying the salve occasionally glancing up to detect any pain from him. You found none. Instead, you found longing.

With his free hand, Harwin lightly cupped your jaw guiding your head so your eyes could reach his. "I admit I should have asked you the moment your Father mentioned it. I was a fool. I will not let this opportunity slip up this time. Princess, marry me?"

Your movements halted as you were suddenly stuck staring into Harwin's eyes. If you hadn't believed Harwin's words, his gaze was suffocating.

You'd seen the look Harwin was giving you before. Back when everything was much less complicated. When your mother was alive. This is how your father would stare at her.

Up until Harwin's confession; you mind had been saddened at the idea of never being loved like that. This was your chance and you be a fool not to take it.

"I would like nothing more than to be your wife." Harwin rose to his feet capturing you in his arms, swinging you around before placing you on the ground.

"You will regret this Princess! My house will never pledge loyalty to you, you worthless-" Thud.

"I told him, Princess. I fuckin' told him!"

"Thank you Ser Byam. Could you take Lord Jason to the Maester. His head may ache when he awakes." Ser Byam bowed before flinging Lord Jason over his shoulder. He appeared to weigh nothing.

"Come we need to inform our fathers of the good news. I believe father is going to rejoice at the news. He never wanted me to marry Lord Jason anyway."

[nebulaafterdark]

Dearest Love

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon and Y/N are newly married and thus they must begin producing heirs. Set before the ‘More Than Anyone’ series. Inspired by @narwhal-swimmingintheocean

Warning: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY! Targcest, mentions of sex.

“That was a heavy sigh, sweetheart.” Aegon chuckles as his wife turns away from him. “You reached your peak, did you not?”

“I am not yet with child.”

“Mmm, and I have been doing my best to remedy that.”

“What if I am barren?”

“You are not,” Aegon scoffs. “Ripe little thing, you are. If it is either of us, it must be me.”

“They will blame me.” Y/N murmurs.

“Who, my darling?” He demands, using his arms to reel her back in. “Who will blame you? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You do not understand the pressure that I am under to produce an heir.” She begins anxiously toying with his fingers.

He does not understand, they’ve been married but a moon turn, almost two.

“Sweet girl,” he frowns, nuzzling the side of her face. “If it does not take, there are other things we might try.”

“Like what?” The princess wonders, smushing their cheeks together.

“Never you worry about that, hmm? I will give you a babe, as many as you want. As many as you’ll give me, but you must settle down.”

“I am settled.”

“Even your cunny was tense.”

“Aegon,” Y/N whines, covering both hands over her face.

“None of that,” he chuckles, feeling himself harden again. Sliding into her slick from behind, the pair on their sides. “You know I adore you.”

“Aegon,” she sighs, reaching back to stroke his hair.

“Try to enjoy yourself, dearest.” Aegon murmurs, “let us not make a chore of it. When you are with child I will want you still.”

“Will you?”

“Every morn, noon and night I will want you. I want you always.” One hand wanders down from her hip to her belly, stroking the warm skin there. “Soon you will swell with our child. So very soon. I swear it on all my love for you.”

Love, a frivolous endeavor, as Aegon had called it not so long ago, is now the currency which he swears by. Y/N nods, lacing their fingers together for just a moment before he is pulling away.

Bringing her leg backwards to rest over his hip. Fingers teasing her bundle of nerves once more. “Now-” her little cunt is sloppy, loud and hot as his earlier release lingers within, “be a good girl for me.” He keeps her full of his seed, fingers and cock. Determined to give her exactly what she wants.

News breaks over the next few weeks, the Princess Y/N is with child.

This update on his wife’s condition did not come through her, rather in passing during a visit to the silk streets. Aegon acts as if he is in the know, of course he knew, Y/N is his wife. The number of cups he consumes that night is more than he’s indulged in since the start of their union.

And when he returns that night, to crawl into Y/N’s bed, she welcomes him there. “You are in quite a state, my Prince.”

“You did not tell me.” He slurs the words out from where his head rests, cradled against her bosom.

“You were not here.” Y/N strokes a patient hand over his hair.

————————————————————————

Y/N grows quickly and the Maesters confirm that she is with more than one child. Likely no more than two, though they cannot say with certainty.

She is sick often, tired and moody, though she tries, Gods know how hard she tries.

“This is what you wanted, is it not?” Aegon asks, staring up at her over the tiny swell of her womb.

“This is what I wanted,” Y/N assures him.

Why then are you so unhappy?

In Aegon’s defense, he has no concept of what a marriage should be. Certainly no concept of how to properly love someone the way he loves his sweet wife.

“And now she draws away from my touch.” He cries into his cup. Entirely intoxicated as he lounges, nude in the lavish private room of the pleasure house. The women there please him greatly, repeatedly. Only nothing compares to the feeling of her.

“Oh, my Prince.” His lady of the night frowns. “Perhaps your wife is at war with herself.”

“In what way?” Aegon rolls onto his side to face the pretty blonde in which he attempts to drown his sorrow.

“She is with child. Tis not an easy task. The Princess might need a little…more from you in these times.”

“A gift!” Aegon suggests, “she might like a gift.”

“She might.” The woman agrees.

“Would you help me find something? Of course, something for you as well. For your troubles.” Aegon springs from the mattress, making for his clothes.

“You are half my troubles, your majesty.” There is no heat behind her words. “The sooner I return you to your bride, the sooner I can retire.”

————————————————————————-

Aegon presents Y/N with a necklace, the following night before supper. Nestled safely in a satin case.

“It’s beautiful.” Y/N breathes, tracing the chain with her finger.

“Would you like to wear it?” He cannot tell by the look on her face.

“Help me with the clasp?”

“Turn around, my love.” My dearest love. Aegon takes the necklace in hand. Waiting as she turns, then securing the gem in place.

“How does it look?” Y/N smiles, facing her husband as she strokes her thumb over the stone.

Don’t you know you hold the moon and stars in your eyes? “Perfect.” You are perfect.

She kisses him then, softly, sweetly on the mouth. “Thank you, Aegon. I love it.” I love you.

They join the rest of their family for dinner. Alicent taking note of her daughter-in-law’s jewelry. The way Aegon’s hand does not leave the tiny swell of her belly. They are in love. Head over heels, madly in love. So long as they are, only good will come of their union.

As Y/N grows, not much seems to fit her. Even her mother’s maternity dresses leave little breathing room and she is only two thirds through her term.

She cries often, so often that Aegon’s heart breaks with it. The heaviness of her sorrow. Though such is her duty and she does love the babes, more than she can say.

“This will be over soon, love. Our sweet babes will be in your arms.” Aegon soothes, holding her close, stroking dark hair with an affection learned just for her.

Y/N nods, sniffling as she clings to him. She is always hot or hungry or tired. So terribly tired.

“Tell me, sweet girl, what should you like to name our little dragons?” He wonders, stroking her belly to feel the tiny kicks there.

————————————————————————-

Y/N does not understand how or why Aegon is still attracted to her in this state. Not when he has prettier whores to bury his cock in. Even so, Y/N allows him to kiss and lick at her greedy little cunt anytime it pleases him.

“My only love,” he murmurs against her inner thigh. “My dearest love.”

And when he fucks her, so soft and sweet; Y/N has no choice but to believe that he loves her as much as he claims.

When they are finished, he breathes in deeply, his ever furrowed brows lulled to submission. Almost as if he were relieved.

“I do love you, Aegon.” Y/N whispers, “I love you with all my heart.”

————————————————————————

They spend days together strolling the garden, sharing secrets and stealing kisses.

At supper Aegon demands a cushion for his sweet love. The weight of their babes, push down on her back and hips. Y/N is terribly uncomfortable, even when she does not speak it, Aegon sees. Everyone sees.

“Make quick work of your food, darling.” Rhaenyra encourages, “so that you might retire early.”

Alicent bites her tongue. Though it is the King’s place to excuse the Princess and not Rhaenyra, she does not wish for Y/N to suffer.

Once Y/N and Aegon are finished, the Prince helps her to stand and when she does…

“What is it?” Aegon fusses about her, desperate to understand why all the blood has drained from her face.

“M-my waters.”

Everything moves out of time. Y/N is whisked away. Aegon is forbade from seeing her as she births their children. He remains close to the door of her chambers, wishing to hold her more than anything. To bring even an ounce of comfort to his wife, but it would be improper. And they must be respectful of tradition.

When the heart wrenching sound of Y/N’s cries begins to quiet, Aegon is informed that he has two daughters. Though his wife has yet to deliver the afterbirth, he forces himself to her side. Despite his mother’s warning.

The babes are perfect, being bathed softly by Y/N’s maid. The Maester working between her trembling knees.

“Y/N,” Aegon cups her cheek.

“Aegon.” She slurs, drunk on milk of the poppy, administered to stitch up where she’d torn.

“You did remarkably.” He kisses her sweat damp forehead.

“A son will be next,” Alicent assures her. They will have to try again.

If looks could kill, Alicent would have fallen over dead at the daggers Rhaenyra shoots her direction. Stroking her daughter’s dark hair affectionately.

Aegon waves his mother way. “Rest now, my dearest love.”

Moments later, when Y/N is long asleep, Aegon holds his daughters for the first time. One in each arm and neither of them cry. He does. Overcome with love for the tiny babes. When they do begin to fuss, Aegon hushes them. “Papa’s got you,” he rocks lightly, switching from foot to foot. “Papa’s here.”

He will never leave or shove them aside, never trade them for a thing in this world. He will be better than his own father. He will spend the rest of his life doting upon them and even still, they will never know how dearly they are loved.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

⭐ Guy yuri tournament finale ⭐

All propaganda under the cut!

For Bingqiu: "One is a housewife and the other is a trophy wife. They both want to be each other's wife so bad (even though Shen Qingqiu would never admit it)"

"Where do I even start... Housewife x trophy wife. Every gender havers. Shen Qingqiu can't decide if he himself is wife or mommy, but is convinced his husband is a delicate lovesick maiden. Luo Binghe has self-assigned himself all of the wifely duties of an ancient Chinese wife years before Shen Qingqiu has become remotely aware of his crush. Also later in the novel he acts like a jealous girlfriend. And specifically girlfriend, like it was an important part of his arc that he stopped acting like a jealous boyfriend and started acting like a jealous girlfriend instead. This has won him his man."

"They're insane, fucking unhinged"

more here and here

For Hualian:

"Xie Lian is a god and Hua Cheng is his devoted believer, which is very yuri. They've also been separated for 800 years, which is very yuri too. Oh and they've been through The Horrors! With one of them forced to helplessly watch as the other suffered unimaginable pain! Now that's extremely yuri of them, if magical girl animes are to be believed..."

"What's more yuri than 800 years of devotion? Nothing that's what! Ghosts usually move on and disappear after a century of so, Hua Cheng is fueled by love so strong he very literally crawled out of hell, became a Ghost King, fought and defeated 33 gods and searched for his love for centuries until they were finally able to meet again. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are so yuri there's an entire section of the fandom that just draws/writes them as women, not too weird since being separated and then connected by fate to ultimately defeat a really powerful evil god together is sapphic culture"

this post as well

[dyk3tastic]

can’t have both

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: angst, tension

summary: set during 4x07 of the boys. you, a member of the boys, run into victoria at tek-nights whilst looking for hughie. danger leads to a brief moment of vulnerability between you two.

warnings: blood, violence, canon-typical threats of violence, language, non-con touching

a/n: my first post on my new blog :p. been obsessed with her and needed somewhere to dump this sexy headpopper brainrot. lmk if you’d like me to write more of her or any other hot ‘evil’ women (shes not evil, just misunderstood (ignore all the homocide)). haven’t posted ff in years lol im being sucked back in. written off an edible at 4am excuse any spag errors. (heya, this is shy from the future, you can now read part 2 & part 3 of this if u fancy :p )

she has you pinned, strong lithe fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing. the other gripping firm across your jaw, sure to leave a bruise, keeping you quiet. you think all this is unnecessary, you don’t have a death wish; screaming, drawing any attention to yourself, in a house full of supes and nazis wasn’t exactly high on your wishlist. you glared up at her deep brown eyes, they were as collected as she always so desperately tried to appear, the only hint of panic setting along her tight jaw. looming over you in her heels you loved so much, you’re eyes see her mouth moving but no words register. you wonder how she can even cope at things like this, how she can stomach this disgusting parade of privilege and abuse. the victoria you knew would fucking hate this, but you didn’t know her, not really.

its only her tightening grip on your jaw, making your teeth scrape against each other, pain shooting through your skull that brings you back.

“you’re a fucking idiot” she gritted through a clenched jaw. she took a deep, shaky breath. if you didn’t know better you’d think she was nervous. “pull any of your usual shit on me right now and i swear to god i will paint that pretty face of yours across the room”. her voice was barely above a whisper, inches away from your face her warm breath prickled against your skin, stray strands of her soft dark hair brushing against your cheek. you don’t think you’ve been this close to her since you found out, your heart pounded in your chest, body thrumming with nerves and tension. she released her hand from over your mouth, “what are you doing here?” she spat out, with that familiar patronising yet pitiful victoria stare that tells you you’ve once again made a bad decision, the wrong decision. you gasp for breath, she loosens her grip on your neck, but still keeps her fingers settled over your pulse point, a reminder of who’s in charge.

you try to keep your voice even as you rasp out a “hughie”, throat still throbbing from her grip. “your pal tek-night has got him locked up here somewhere”. continuing to cough out you snarl “you remember hughie right? your friend who you lied to and manipulated for years?”. hot piercing anger was rising through your body whilst something deep sunk in your stomach, settling in a twisted concoction of desire and disgust, a needy pit of betrayal. overwhelmed and once again underprepared, you fingers inch towards the syringe in your back pocket. before you can even swing for her neck your arm is pinned, blood running from both your nostrils, dripping over your lips, down your chin and neck, her grip around your neck tight.

“what did i fucking say?” she sighed, disappointed.

“i thought we were-“ your voice fails you, your anger clouding any chance of vulnerability, of reconciliation.

“i wanted to tell you” a beat of silence. “i did. and hughie. i wanted to tell you both.” she lets out a sad, tired half-laugh, grip not faltering from your neck. “i wanted to trust you but i didn’t want to lose you.” she swallows. “and i didn’t think i could have both, i’ve never been able to have both”. the slip in her mask of cool confidence, the crack of vulnerability, makes you feel slightly sick as you are unable to squash the warmth of empathy in your chest. you flinch at the melancholy that swims below her beautiful features, that deep sadness painting her eyes that made her so fucking irresistible. you felt sick again.

“just get it over with vic.” you choked out, mouth filling with blood. she frowned in response, taking a moment as she felt your heart beat, blood pumping fast and heavy through your body, she could tell you were scared. feeling the heat from your skin, she knew her closeness was having an effect on you, she let a smirk tug at the corners of her full lips.

“i’m not going to fucking kill you y/n.” she dryly chuckled. letting go of her grip on your neck and wrist, she swiped the pad of her thumb over your lips, dragging down across your chin. as she stepped back from you your traitor body instantly missed her presence looming over you. you were free to make a run for it, yet there you remained, paralysed before her knowing stare. she raised her thumb to her mouth, licking off your blood in what can only be described as a terrifyingly erotic gesture that was perfectly victoria. both a display of power and some twisted form of tenderness. your breath hitched as you broke eye contact, not daring to say a word for fear of what might come out. she smiled again, this time without that signature smugness, but with a softer expression that she reserved, rarely, for very few, both somewhat cheeky and sad, desperately sincere. before you could even allow your seriously lagging brain to formulate a response victoria was striding out of the room without looking back, leaving your blood to dry across your face.

[heatherholes]

i get that the lack of individuality is the appeal of bimbofication for many. but what i like to see, personally, is all the wonderful different types of girls learning their place. their unique personalities kept but warped. the most obvi example is the nerdy weeb girl who loves hentai and ahegao and slutty cosplay, the desk pet gamer girls. unlike some less interesting misogynists, i don’t think they’re faking their interests for male attention. they just don’t know how to express themselves any other way and that’s super hot!

i wanna see it everywhere. the horror fanatic watching shlocky b-movie rape scenes like they’re porn. the girl who loves cars getting bent over the hood. the ren faire attendant dressed as a tavern wench. the tabletop gamers and larpers doing mediaeval fantasy, getting treated medievally. the skater chick who laughs loudest when a girl face-plants, the metalhead demanding you name five albums. the goth who draws a pentagram on the floor and kneels naked, thinks of her punishment for eve eating the apple and whispers ‘hail satan.’

barstool type girls are a favourite of mine. you know, they watch football, eat wings, are all too happy to go to strip clubs and participate in the locker room talk. who proudly proclaim that they’re not like other girls, they’re one of the guys because they put on a sports jersey, while still looking every bit the bleach blonde fucktoy. still pretending she doesn’t know how to shoot pool so he can show her.

and the gym bunnies with an intense discipline and determination; are strong physically and mentally. what motivates their commitment to self improvement? looking good for men, of course! she’ll work herself to the bone keeping toned for you and won’t whine for help hauling the groceries. let her tell herself it’s because you respect her strength if it makes your life easier.

similar are the boss babes, hyper productive and entrepreneurial. proud to have her own money, apartment, car, small business. she’s a big believer in splitting the bill on dates. why? she heard men don’t like gold diggers. she doesn’t want him to think she’s putting out cause she gets something out it. she’s not doing it for anything but him. whether or not she expands her “online brand” as a pornfluencer into onlyfans will depend entirely on him. he okays it, but only for a split of the money? wow, now she’s the provider. how empowering!

that’s to say nothing of the actual girl bosses. the salaried power player at a fortune 500 company. what does she do there? discourage employees under her from going to HR, cut funding for the women in business initiative and giggle at sexist jokes to show she’s a team player, mostly. she has the economic freedom to do anything, a career she fought tooth and nail for, a spot in the c-suite someday. she’s a winner, not a trophy. she’ll give it all away once a man further up the ladder knocks her up.

well, what about the marxist punk yelling no gods, no masters? no way she’s gonna submit to a man. no, but she’s gonna suck dick for the communal spirit and promote collective ownership of her holes.

the shy girl into art and literature? her love of culture gives her unique insight into the history of male supremacy. everywhere she sees herself through the eyes of men. not just any men, creative geniuses. in the museum she looks at the ancient vases that use the same iconography to depict marriage as rape. from the nude statue of a goddess to the painting of a peasant girl — both are objects, never the subject. in the library she reads the taming of the shrew and thinks, who am i to argue with shakespeare? quietly, she lets her dreams of being an artist die and resigns herself to the life of the muse.

tldr: cater to the male gaze and serve patriarchy but most importantly be yourself

[lillified]

What are some of the main inspirations for your art style? Any cartoon or movie that particularly changed your brain chemistry and impacted your art?

God, I love how you draw faces and expressions, i love how you draw women, they are so diverse and strong and beatiful and messy and they can bleed and have muscle. So cool.

that’s actually a bit of a tough question! I tried to put together some of my artistic influences from over the years, but I definitely did not manage to get all of them lol. here’s a scattered assortment in no particular order:

[moncharrow]

water polo player! abby

a/n: hey!! i know i said id be posting for ellie first but this thought hasn't left me for a month. i love the though of this oh my god i am feral. thanks for reading! rb or comment to support a lil fic author :) also i'm gonna be referring to water polo as a super gay sport and that's because it is xoxo i mean high contact with buff women. like.

-content/warnings: 1.4k, mentions of contact sport violence, smut scenes (strap, riding abby, nickname 'beautiful', semipublic sex in a locker room, fingering, oral (both receiving), gn reader but has a pussy, mentions of roughhousing in water/ drowning (not really drowning but yk)

men dni.

water polo is one of the most intense sports- it's high contact, rough, with a high probability of being punched, getting a black eye, etc

but when you're as buff as ms abby anderson here, it's not as big of a deal

there aren't really many set positions in wp, but the most important one is center- placed front-and-center of the goal, they're the person everyone looks to to get a good shot

center has to be dependable, strong, and fast

abby is perfect! her drive is amazing (ahem ahem) and she's constantly swimming like crazy to get into position so her team can rely on her

she started in high school, learning the ropes and getting to know the sport

got crazy good, and was definitely a very proud varsity athlete. she knows she's good, so why shouldn't she flaunt a bit?

im gonna be honest she absolutely wore her varsity jacket for way too long during freshman year in college

she joined her collegiate team (possibly on a small grant/scholarship) and met the most amazing team

it's hard to be queer in sports a lot of the time, but her entire team is queer/allied!! she has a space to be herself which she really appreciates

she blossoms on that team

every girl at her college absolutely drops their panties for her im not even kidding. its not even that fun to her because she just wants someone to love, not just a hookup

((that doesn't mean she rejects them all though))

the pretty center draws crowds to the natatorium

and that includes you, of course

you're a friend of the goalie and you're not all that into sports, but once you hear that the hot girl you've been thirsting over in org. chem is there?? it's all over, goodBYE

you are seated right in the action, front row of the bleachers, cheering in school colors, pretty eyes glimmering in the bright sun, sweat drops dripping down the front of your shirt

abby is fully focused on her game but when she's benched she gets a liiiiiittle distracted ngl

like i said though, she's mostly game face

but after a win? she feels like she's never lost. she's pure confidence and she decides to keep the streak going and see if she can successfully get your number

it's slightly awkward because when abby gets closer she sees that wow you are so much more attractive than she first thought when she had chlorine water in her eyes

so she just doesn't ask you out lolol she bails and bugs the goalie about you for the week leading up to the game, asking who you are, if you're coming next time, if you like this or that

her hands are so large and strong from gripping that ball... just imagine what they could be used for !

her thighs are absolutely massive- she has to stay above the water somehow, and the kicking she has to do has sculpted her into a thunder-thigh goddess

eating her out is insane because she fucking clamps down on your head with her thighs LMAO

broad shoulders that you can hold while riding her

strong shoulders that you grip and squeeze onto for dear life every night before a game as she plows into you for "good luck"

-the room is filled with the rhythmic slapping of her skin against your thighs as she grips your hips and bucks up into you.

"taking it so well for me, huh? my little good luck charm..." and you can't say anything. you just whine as you feel every muscle in her body working overtime to treat you just right

the veins in her forearms throb and pop out as she bounces you up and down, touching and squeezing and groping everywhere she can. she looks up at you cheekily, biting her lips and grinning. "there we go, beautiful, look 't you go"

"i'll be sore tomorrow" she says. it isn't a complaint. she says it's her favorite workout

yeah she says she's done but she's also finger fucking you in the locker room during half-time

-"sorry coach, i'll be quick, i promise!" abby lifts herself out of the pool with pure upper body strength, muscles tensing and water dripping off her like some kind of lesbian wet dream. when she promises haste, she means you'll be quick, because you know the drill. you're already amongst the rows of lockers as abby pushes you against them, sliding past your underwear and shoving her fingers in. her thumb is on your clit, middle and ring fingers finding your g-spot immediately and going at it relentlessly. "think you can do 5 minutes for me, beautiful?

-you can because she won't accept anything else. you're cumming all over her fingers, groaning at the overstimulation as she fucks you through it. when you're done, she pulls out, inserting her fingers into her mouth and cleaning them. you shoot her a playful dirty look as she jogs back out the locker room door

-"thanks for the pep talk, babe!" girl.

she wins every game and says it's because of you

it's sweet, but she's just that good of an athlete

but if you met her because you play too? oh get ready for a whole 'nother world

you're her defense during practice, in the trenches with her and jumping over her shoulders to make sure she doesn't get the ball

but she'll do petty shit to fluster you, like turning and kissing your shoulder and holding your hand in the middle of wrestling for position like ???

-"anderson!" the team captain reprimands. she gives a cheeky smile and puts her game face back on, pinching your thigh underwater where nobody can see

water polo players' love language is straight up drowning people. like the coach yells for everyone to meet him in the corner of the pool and instead she's fucking barrelling toward you, wanting to pull you under

when you're waiting to practice throwing the ball into the goal, she'll slide under the surface and tug at your ankles to pull you

when you come back up, she's giggling like a child and acting like it was another teammate

-"abby, i know it was you, you idiot!" you say, grinning

despite not really having jerseys like in other sports, abby will have you wear her team merch with logos

you wear last year's team shirt to bed, her flannel pants to class, her two-piece tops when you go to the beach with her

you go crazy for her when she's in her polo suit. they're tight so that players can't get grabbed, but it's tight in all the right places

it showcases abby's broad shoulders and slutty waist, curving around her chest and tastefully contouring her back muscles

thank god for this sport, you think

she always complains about how the suit rides up her butt, giving her a slight wedgie, but it gives you perfect access to her tight ass

smacksmacksmack

-"can you hold off for one minute, babe?"

-"no."

it's like there's no person attached to that ass. and she's just as obsessed with yours dw! she uses those big hands to grasp your entire cheek and land a harsh slap! on there that makes you jump. she just smiles n laughs

water polo! abby who takes you out to dinner after games and ends up stealing your food because "ohmygodbabeimsohungryyoudontevenunderstand"

it's like she's never eaten

speaking of eating... (im sorry)

she will throw your legs open when she eats you out. if you try to shut them she'll use the full force of her forearms to pin your thighs down and dig her face deeper in your pussy, sucking and licking like a woman starved

who wrote that. i didn't. anyways..

you put her hair up in a fishtail braid for her !! then she'll ask you to put her swim cap on and give you a cute smile when you screw it up

-"i fucked it up! sorry!"

-"babe it looks great" while she's tucking all her shorter hairs into the bottom of it

if her team is winning by a lot, she'll mess around a bit and point at you after she scores a goal, and you roll your eyes and your face feels hot because she's so ridiculous

but you do feel a lil special.

anyways water polo abby mi amor :3333 take me in the locker room

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: A Tragic Romance

King: gosh joanne sure has been trending a while on twitter King: like, for almost a week straight Poe: oo Poe: er Poe: that's King: yeah that's not good Poe: that's very bad Poe: i don't think it's healthy Poe: it does things to you

Vladmir Nabokov: ok i got a story Nabokov: but i'm only gonna tell it if you all promise not to be mad at me Poe: we promise Nabokov: you promise? Nabokov: you all have to say it Poe: we all promise King: sure we promise Barker: promise Nabokov: swear i

Vladimir Nabokov: ok this is the story of the guy who raised his own child bride Piers Anthony: why would you say something so controversial and yet so brave

King: wow jeez um Nabokov: but before you all get mad at me Nabokov: keep in mind that the narrator is unreliable King: i dunno this really seems kinda... Nabokov: unreliable, goddamnit! unreliable!

King: wow this story seems pretty out there King: and you endorse this kind of thing? Nabokov: unreliable, dammit! i said unreliable! King: cuz i don't think we can approve of this Nabokov: oh my GOD

Nabokov: you had a baby clown gangbang King: WHOA now you're taking that scene WAY out of context vladimir and you know it

Nabokov: you all can't understand this! this is REAL literature JK Rowling: exactly Nabokov: see? she gets it Rowling: a beautifully tragic love ssstory Nabokov: yes a bea Nabokov: Nabokov: what

Rowling: yeah i thought it was a wonderful love ssstory King: Poe: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: Rowling: why are you looking at me like that? Rowling: iss it becausse you hate women?

Rowling: i know i know, you're all thinking Rowling: a romance between a middle aged man and a child?? Rowling: but don't worry! Rowling: they're both their assssigned at birth genderss Rowling: sso it'ss all ok

Rowling: humbert humbert ssufferss greatly in the purssuit of romance sso when lolita sstartss looking elssewhere for attention, humbert will carry her off on a desperate cross-country misadventure all in the name of love Rowling: in National Lampoon's Cross State Line Vacation

VC Andrews: i don't think that's much of a romance Rowling: oh yeah??? well what would YOU know? Andrews: funny you should ask Andrews: i do have some ideas about that

VC Andrews: [singing] i have a secret recipe Andrews: concocted with much skill Andrews: and once you've tried my special dish Andrews: you'll Andrews: never Andrews: get Andrews: your Andrews: filllll Andrews: TAKEEEEEE Andrews: ten terrific blood relatives...

Rowling: tell them, vladmir, it's a romance right? Nabokov: no it's about how i heard these scientists taught an ape to draw Rowling: Rowling: Rowling:

Nabokov: ironically the ape only drew the bars of its prison Nabokov: makes you think Poe: i have no sympathy Poe: that ape can rot for all i care Barker: yeah edgar has strong feelings about apes Poe: ROT, i say

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Are you requests open yet, right?

Can you make something with Fenrys, like, him and reader are mates, and they are trying to get a child for so long, and one day they discover that they are expecting.

(I really liked your writing, and very few people write about him, so I wanted to thank you for this 💕)

Had a blast writing this truly. Thank you for requesting and the kind words, I hope you'll enjoy it. 🤍✨

Little pup

At first, you didn't talk about it. You both were still young and for the most part, had wanted to explore the world together. Just you two. Try new things. See new places. Travel. Indulge in each other's company. And the mating frenzy hit you so hard that you didn't leave your house for over a month. And by then you were convinced that everyone passing by could smell the sex lingering all around.

And yet even in that month, it wasn't about getting pregnant. Fenrys was learning how to please you and you were doing the same. It was the desire to explore that drove you. To bring each other immense pleasure. Till the last breaking point. Till the moment all you could see was stars. Till furniture was breaking. But the thought of conceiving never crossed your mind.

But it's the first time your period is late and you're feeling so weird that Aelin had to drag you to the healer's level. It's the joyful smile on the woman's face when she says, "Oh you might as well be pregnant", that breaks this bubble of cold water over your head. "How exciting would that be? Babies are so rare and to have one ahh...", the healer beams as she ushers you to lay down. You reach for Aelin's hand almost instantly. The nerve suddenly so uneasy in your chest.

And then the healer's face drops and so does your heart. Sadness washes over you and it's like you had lost something you didn't even think you wanted five minutes ago. "You started your circle, darling", she says lowering your skirt down and you just want to crawl into yourself. "Ah, yes", you quickly move to get down the table. Glad your back is to the two women as you quickly wipe your tears. Suddenly feeling so frustrated. You feel Fenrys tugging on the bond yet that only makes your heart ache more so you push him out of your head quickly. Drowsing the bond in complete darkness.

Fenrys comes home way earlier than he should have been there. And you know it's because he would always drop anything for you. High stake leaders waiting for the meeting? Fuck them! His mate needs him so he's leaving and gods save the souls who try to stand in his way.

He knows by the silence that something had happened. Something that upset you. Ticked you over. Then Fenrys smells the blood. Gears turning before he realizes that your cycle had finally shown up but why the sense of sorrow then? This feeling of pain makes him rub his chest as he too tries to soothe the aching.

"My, love", Fenrys shrugs his cloak off carelessly, stepping closer to the bed. You're completely submerged by the furs all over your body. He makes a quick work of pushing them to the side until your wet cheeks come into sight and Fenry's heart drop even more. "Love", he breathes out in worry. But that only makes your tears well up more. A choked-out sob leaves your lips before you move to push away from your mate. That jabs Fenry's heart too.

"Love, if you don't tell me what's going on...", and then this shien of anger washes over you. Painting your cheeks in even more crimson shades. "Talk to you? Talk about what, huh?", you leap at him, fist coming in contact with Fenrys's strong chest.

But then you draw your hands back, looking at them with so much disgust. Fenrys steps in quickly taking your smaller palms into his. Your mind was too chaotic for him to read now. So he had to trust you to let him in on your own time. "What is going on...", you mutter, "You're overwhelmed and your body is full of hormones", even Fenrys frown at his own words but that's the truth in a way. The question still stands though. What caused all of this? "I thought I was...", you breathe through the sobs, "Thought we had...", and then it's full-on sobs, till your legs give out and Fenrys quickly wraps you up in his arms, rocking you from time to time.

There's no way to tell how long you've been crying by the time you're only sniffling. Eyes puffy and red, holding onto Fenrys for dear life. And he had run out of comforting words by then, opting for silence and love that he poured through the bond. You push away from him slightly. Knowing full well that you owe him an explanation. Because he too would have been a part of this if you had been pregnant. Your eyes well up with tears once more as you glance at him and Fenrys is ready to cradle you once more but you stop him. "I saw a healer this morning. She thought that I might...", you swallow the lump in your throat, shoulders sagging, "might be... pregnant". Fenrys's heart jumps up his throat. Suddenly he's almost hyper-aware of his surroundings. Threats. Smells. Sounds. But then nothing. And then just like before it all falls into place.

This. All of this was because you weren't. Because there wasn't a babe growing in your womb. No little Fenrys, or Y/N. And it's almost like another slap to his face because he only now realizes that you never really talked about it. Becoming parents. Growing your family. Being together and having one another was comforting enough. But seeing you like this. "I'm sorry...", you whisper and Fenrys draws his gaze back to you. "What for love? There's nothing to be sorry for", he brushes your loose hair away from your face.

"For not being pregnant", Fenrys frown at your words. And frowns so deep that his eyebrows nearly come together. "Now you take that back", his hands cup your face, "You take that back and never dare to apologize for something like this".

And you know that it comes from his heart because he loves you. Because no matter what you do he will always be there. "What if I can't?", you ask him, biting your lip, "Then we won't have any and that will be more than enough because we would have one another", he's quick to reassure you. And once more from the way his eyes are gleaming you know that he means it. "Come here", he mutters m, bringing you back into his arms, and wrapping it up in the comfort of his warmth. Drowning out the world around you.

All of this leads to a long conversation about children. One that you share late at night, both tangled between the sheets. Let the stars and the moon be the only witnesses of your wishes and dreams. And you both know that's so rare. And something that many couples don't even get close to. Fenrys knows how he and his brother Connall had come pretty late into their parent's lives. But then what a blessing it was to have two babies. Yet the time span was what scared him the most. Not because he was desperate. Don't get him wrong he wanted to see you pregnant. Know that it's his baby growing within you. But he could tell how fragile this topic made you. How you would shiver any time someone brought up the conversation of babies. How you would halt at the sight of younglings running around in the streets. How you forced a smile once Ellide got pregnant and you had brushed away your sad tears saying that it was only happy crying.

And it's only a handful of years later. Many disappointing visits to the healers later that you jolt up in the morning rushing to the bathroom. Fenrys is out of bed just as fast, darting after you and reaching to hold your hair out of your face as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. His hands rub comforting circles over your back. Your skin looks clammy and pale and it makes Fenrys sick to his stomach as well.

Because what if all the sorrows had finally eaten you from within in? What if he had missed something? Overlooked you not eating well, not sleeping enough. Your head drops to the side, and Fenrys quickly turns you over, reaching for the tap before flickering water over your face. If an illness claimed your life... if he would be left alone...it's a selfish thought but one that has been his number one fear ever since he saw you for the very first time.

"I'm fine", you groggily say and Fenrys only huffs, "Fine my ass, you're barely conscious". Those are harsher words than he wishes that thrown your way but he's so worried. So worried his own eyes are blurry. Then he moves up quickly, you tightly pressed to his chest. "Fen, I just need to lay down", but he doesn't listen as he throws the door open. Not caring that he's shirtless, or that you are only wearing one of his shirts. He rushes down the hallway, yet he's still mindful of not shaking you too much.

The healers haven't even finished their morning preparations when he storms in, eyes wild. The healer who had been tending to you for years now jumps up instantly. "I don't know what's happening", Fenrys admits as he lowers you onto the bed. The lady presses her palm onto your forehead before cradling your cheek. "Y/N, what's hurting?", she asks softly but you only shake your head. Her mouth falls into a tight frown and she orders a couple of other healers around, turning to Fenrys so he would tell her what happened.

"When was the last time you ate, girl?", she asks strictly, fingers running over your stomach. "Breakfast", you breathe out, "yesterday". Fenrys growls in frustration. He had returned home late last night, you had already been asleep and so he never even thought about the fact that he didn't ask anyone on his way up if you had been down to eat dinner. The healer shakes her head, "Silly, silly girl. Mirth, bring the lady some light breakfast and a tart", she says even though you turn to protest. "You're with child and this is all stunt you pulled here is because you didn't eat", every sound in the room dies down. Your eyes grow big and for a moment you're sure you just mistaken her words. Surely not... but it's the way Fenrys is looking at the healer with the same surprised eyes that makes you realize that he heard it too.

"Congratulations you two. A strong heartbeat", she carefully presses her palm to your shoulder. Knowing full well that once the information fully settled in Fenrys's brain anyone that would get near the slight swell in your lower stomach would be marked an enemy. The wolf closes the distance between you two. He doesn't yet trust his words so he just leans in pressing his forehead to yours. And now that it's been brought up you do smell slightly different. And the heartbeat. How did he miss the heartbeat? What kind of father will he be if he missed his child growing inside you?

"The best kind", you mutter, "the best kind of father", your hand cups his cheek, and the white wolf instantly nuzzles closer to you. He kisses the side of your head, brushing the tears from your cheeks. "Our baby", he mumbles, pressing his palm to your stomach, "Our little pup", you put your hand over his. And then Fenrys breaks into fits of giggles as he brings you closer into his arms. You too can't help the smile even if the dizziness still lingers. And you suddenly feel complete as if this was all that was missing. Now the picture would be complete. "A father, my beautiful mate will make me a father", he beams, brushing his lips against yours in a messy kiss, but the door swings open as the younger healer walks in with a trey. The laughter stops and Fenrys is snarling at the door, teeth out. Your hands push against his chest softly, "Darling, she means no harm", you reassure him yet his eyes don't leave the poor girl now shaking by the door. "Thought you seen him protective, girl? Welcome to the next stage", the older healer chuckles as she hands you the sweet bun.

[grison-in-space]

man I've been listening to Guards! Guards! again, right. I was going to do Feet of Clay again but I wanted so badly to spend some time with Lady Sybil in her element, so I detoured over to the beginning. (Incidentally, Making-Money!Vetinari up against Guards!-Guards!Vetinari is one hell of a contrast. One gets the sincere impression that older Vetinari would wipe the floor with his younger self if they ever met, and then be painfully embarrassed afterward; and yet you can see the potential among the arrogance. I wrote this bit before I wrote a longer piece about that exchange, but I'll get round to linking it in here in a moment.)

But I wanted to discuss Sybil.

The first thing you have to understand about Sybil is that she is an archetype of a certain kind of autistic person, usually a woman (or a queer man). You find them in every kind of domestic animal fancy, although Sybil is of the class and rank that generally focuses on relatively large, expensive, and impractical animals; the dragon fancy is mostly based on the dog fancy, with strong influence from horse fancies and sometimes cat or falconry fancies. It is not a coincidence that Sybil is unmarried and that most of her time is spent with other women, often middle class or upper class women, who share her all consuming interest in dragons; this has been a really common social circle for autistics, especially autistic women with independent money, into a given animal fancy since the cultural concept of animal fancies existed.

The second thing you have to understand about Sybil is that she is not at all a conventionally attractive woman. Here are the things we learn about her as Vimes does, in order: she has inherited wealth and status that she does not particularly care about; she is large--taller than Vimes himself, or at least tall enough to loom over him--and "booms" confidently and incomprehensibly at him; and even after she takes off the heavy protective armor useful for conducting a dragon mating, she's tall and fat and (implied to be) heavily muscled under the fat. Her figure is compared to the Venus of Willendork, or perhaps an operatic Valkyrie, and she wears wigs because she is generally fairly bald, or at least singed. She's loud by nature. She wanders around with a dragon on her shoulder creating awful smells and occasionally dribbling.

God, I love her. Speaking as another erstwhile animal fancy autistic, she's really living the dream there. And this little Watch man shows up in her life, totally fails to understand what she's asking for when she tries to conscript him into the easy job for the breeding she's trying to facilitate, and then sits and asks her a bunch of pointed questions about her beloved dragons. He's weird in his own way and a little drunk, and he really is unfortunate enough not to have any dragons experience at all, but he sits down and he asks her questions and he listens to everything she can infodump at her with, as far as I can tell, rapt fascination.

This is not an experience Sybil Ramkin has frequently had. He doesn't try to escape or change the subject or draw her back to the pieces he cares about even a little bit. He's clearly dazed and confused and probably, knowing Vimes, a little bit drunk, but he's not even visibly discomfited enough to shove poor old Dewdrop Maybelline Talonthrust the First out of his lap. Sybil clearly knows that most people don't appreciate being drooled acid on, and tells Vimes repeatedly that he can shove the old man off, but he makes no effort to do so at any point. Given that dragons are described as having a quite pervasive smell, and given all the other details of their biology, I can't even begin to imagine how awful the old dragon must smell... and Vimes just sort of rolls with it.

(It's a pity Pterry didn't understand show names at all, of course; the ones we get should tell us something about the relationships among dragons and kennels, and the prefixes should be repeated, and whatever Sybil's own kennel name is should be present in many of the dragons she mentions. Probably it's either Talonthrust or Moonmist, but either way Goodboy Bindle Featherstone of Quirm is named entirely wrong. He's clearly of her own breeding, so he should have a kennel prefix or suffix that aligns with hers, not a name that has nothing in common with her other dragons and implies that his dam was bred by the duchess of Quirm rather than by Sybil herself.)

He listens and he listens and he asks questions and he goes down to the kennels to look at her pride and joy and listen to her explaining what makes each of them so nice. And then he brings her an incredibly exciting present. And he expresses interest in the sweet little whittle she's been trying to work out what to do with, who is totally not a breeding specimen but is too weird even for the sort of people who adopt dragons from the Sunshine Sanctuary. He doesn't even try to leave until the big dragon overhead causes a big stir, and then when she has him taken to her house to recover, she finds him reading her book about diseases of the dragons with every evidence of fascination.

Small wonder she takes notice of him, really.

[paranoidginger]

Random headcanons for the TF2 mercs!!

Scout: ADHD hardcore, should probably be medicated for it, but isn't. This man cannot stand still for anything, he is always tapping his feet or fiddling with something. He definitely bites his nails, especially his thumbs. Repressed bisexual who is accidentally homophobic because he thinks he isn't supposed to like guys, and thinks everyone chooses to like the opposite gender. He's a surprisingly good artist, and he has dyslexia. That mixed with dropping out of highschool made him somewhat illiterate, spelling is hard, and so is reading any big words.

Soldier: Jack of all trades, he has had every job possible, but if he weren't in love with going to war, he'd probably settle on properly running a raccoon sanctuary. He is the reason why Medic had to invent a cure for rabies. Definitely thinks that being a lesbian just means that you like women, regardless of gender, he refers to himself as a Lesbian after learning that Pauling Identifies as one.

Pyro: Probably not even a human, uses any and all pronouns. They're really smart, despite acting childish, and are the one who built their flamethrowers. Probably collects stickers. Would definitely watch MLP and drag the other mercs into watching it with them, Pinkie Pie is definitely their favorite of the mane six. They draw a lot, and are pretty good at it whenever they want to be, they just prefer drawing silly things. Their room probably smells like burnt plastic and gasoline.

Demo: Only goes sober whenever shit gets super, super serious, like one of the other mercenaries that he cares about gets hurt. He's got a really strong caretaking instinct that gets drowned out by drunken recklessness. He's a total lover, and definitely the type of guy to kiss the homies goodnight. It takes a LOT to actually get him drunk drunk, like, I'm talking ungodly levels of alcohol that would probably kill the average person. He's Spy's drinking buddy, and probably knows the most about Spy's background from listening to his drunken ramblings about regrets and how he wishes he was a better father. Demo probably knows a lot about most of the other mercs, just because he's a good listener and a vault whenever it comes to sensitive information. He's also really fucking smart. Probably pansexual tbh, just based on vibes.

Heavy: He gets nervous whenever he has to help out any of the more 'delicate' mercenaries. He knows he's ridiculously strong, and he has excellent control of himself, but he can't help but feel like he's handling glass whenever he's helping out any of his injured teammates, especially when it comes to Scout or Spy. He's super fucking protective of all of his team though, and would absolutely crack skulls if anything happened to any of them. He is the only person other than Medic who is allowed to touch Archimedes. Probably bisexual with a preference towards men.

Engie: He's usually pretty polite, but can be one of the most brutal out of any of the classes. He's definitely autistic with a special interest in machines. He probably wants to capture one of the mvm robots just to run tests and see if they're sentient. Low-key god complex, like, moreso than medic, he's just super humble about it. He definitely talks to all of his machines. He's 100% a trans man, I can see him as being demisexual.

Sniper: Definitely autistic, he's probably got a shitload of random animal information. Total arachnophobe, but only towards small spiders. Hand him a tarantula and he's fine, but show him a stick covered in baby spiders and he's going to probably kick it as far away from himself as possible and run away. He adores lizards of all kinds, and probably used to lay on the ground watching them all the time as a kid. This man can't use a kitchen for shit, but he manages to make anything he cooks over a fire absolutely delicious, he probably refuses to share though. Probably Asexual. Has a shitty taxidermy rat in his camper that he's unnecessarily proud of, and he probably collects bones. Super into oddities and weird little knick knacks, and he still has all of his baby teeth that he keeps in a little jar on a shelf. Can't run for shit, but could walk for hours if need be. Likes doing arts and crafts, he knits in his free time, and almost always has a sewing kit with him.

Medic: Knows a little about every different medical field, he just sort of studied up on whatever piqued his interest. DOES have a PhD in medical science, he just lost his license to legally practice in a hospital or doctor's office. Gay, probably a trans man. Has definitely experimented on himself before, giving himself different deadly diseases and whatnot just to challenge himself to make a cure before he dies. Also autistic. Spoils the fuck out of his birds, and would probably Frankenstein together a human body for Archimedes if he could figure out how.

Spy: Bisexual genderfluid icon. Usually only gets caught because he's being way too much of a cocky showoff. Definitely wears eyeliner and says that it 'helps him see better' when it's bright out, even though it's 100% just a fashion statement. Has a collection of antique cigar boxes and lighters.