#i'm seven inches tall :•(

[just-someone-online]

I just saw the G3 dolls for the first time and I never realized they were so big?? And imma be real, it made me realize that I'm not meant for dolls. I just do not have that kind of space lol

[aesethewitch]

When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.

Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.

So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.

Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.

One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.

It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."

The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.

Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.

It missed my lilac by inches.

The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.

I think next year, I'll see flowers.

[fates-theysband]

im like a housecat. my brain doesn't know i'm small.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Margaret Lindsay (Frisco Kid, The House of the Seven Gables, Scarlet Street)—she was born in Dubuque, Iowa, then moved to England to make her stage debut. She framed herself as a British actress and moved back to America to try Hollywood, then starred with James Cagney in a bunch of movies. She was in the Ellery Queen movie series and The House of the Seven Gables. She never married (I suspect lesbian stuff) but lived with her sisters. She dated Cesar Romero and Liberace (I told you. Lesbian stuff.) Please include the pic of her in the tie [included above]

Mae West (She Done Him Wrong, I'm No Angel)—She is an absolute icon, the OG sex symbol. Every word from her mouth was an innuendo and she was proud of it. I guess one could say she slayed. She got Cary Grant his first acting role, as well. How could you NOT vote for someone who says such iconic stuff as "I do all my writing in bed; everybody knows I do my best work there" or "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." SHE COINED THE PHRASE "IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?" I LOVE HER!!!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Margaret Lindsay:

Mae West:

Her voice! Her body! She was thick as hell and SO confident.

Mae West is often called the queen of the sexual pun or innuendo, she was an early sex symbol and a comedy icon. She also has a quote saying "When I am good, I am very good. But when I am bad I am better!" which is possibly the peak of hot girl energy ever. (Including the clip here)

for an era that didn't have much wiggle room when it came to women that studios wanted in their films, it's refreshing that she was in her late 30s when she skyrocketed to movie fame. she was also curvy and witty and raunchy, an absolute icon!

Legendary sex symbol. Like 500 vintage iconic quotes and double entendres. "Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? " "When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad, I'm better" / "It's not the men in your life that count, it's the life in your men" / "I feel like a million tonight. But one at a time." , "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready for an institution. " / " How tall are you without your horse? Six foot, seven inches. Never mind the six feet. Let's talk about the seven inches! " Look the pictures don't do her justice just watch a compilation and tell me that voice doesn't do it for you

She was a SEX GODDESS at a time when that was an extremely scandalous thing to be, and she worked it! She was sardonic, sarcastic, funny...and stacked! Favorite quote (from Night After Night, 1933): Random woman: Goodness! What beautiful diamonds! Mae West: Goodness had nothin' to do with it, dearie.

i personally love this silly production number from one of her lesser known movies

She was arrested for indecency and chose to serve 10 days in prison instead of paying the fine for the publicity, and she claimed that she refused to wear the ugly prison outfits so she wore her silk lingerie the entire time. Also one of the first historybound vintage fashion icons (although vintage for her was the Victorian era)

[clawsdevour]

js wanna be yours

wc: 0.8k content warning: ur his first ever crush and he's confessing to you, fluff, atumu x reader, not proofread

note: this is kind of like a follow up from his first crush because an anon requested to see how atsumu would confess! (also he is SO the type of guy that's chalant but goes lowk silent around you)

⠀𓈒 ◌⠀ֹ ͏⠀ 𓍼

A letter? That's odd. I rarely get letters left in my locker, you thought to yourself. Staring at the plain blank envelope, looking for hints or clues indicating who slipped it in the little slot. Absolutely nothing, not even a small pencil mark.

Carefully ripping the glued seal, you take out the small folded sheet of paper. Just like the plain envelope, there wasn't even any decorations or drawings left on the blank piece of paper.

Unfolding it, there only laid a few words to be read:

'Please come to the back of the school, near the lockers, at four pm. I need to tell you something important.'

You can't tell if this was some sort of silly prank being pulled on you. It was way too early for a prank, all you just wanted was to put on your indoor shoes. In your mind, you're contemplating about this letter that wasn't even signed.

Should I show up? I don't even know who this person could be.. this could just be a prank someone pulled on me!

Sighing, you close your locker and slip the note into your bag before heading to your first period. The letter could come second, overall school just began.

The day flew by without a worry, making you almost forget about that mysterious letter left in your locker. Looking back at the clock, it was three forty-seven.

Still, you couldn't quite wrap your head around this sudden opportunity to see who was behind the note left in your locker. You were more than just curious to know what their motives and intentions were as well.

Hearing the clock strike, you made up your mind. I'm going to see who this person is.

Heading out of your classroom that was filled with chatter, entering the quiet halls whilst you make your way down to the back of Inarizaki. You were on the lookout to see if any of the familiar faces lurking around could be that person.

Making it outside, the humidity in the air hits you while you fight past it. Near the lockers, you saw a tall figure disappear around the corner.

That was a bit odd. That guy's going the same way as me.. is that the guy behind the letter?

A bit concerned, heart starting to pick up the pace with every footstep that inched towards the back of the locker rooms. You're walking ever so slowly, trying to not make noise.

A tall and lean silhouette makes it's way into your vision. The man's wearing Inarizaki's volleyball uniform, perhaps they just left practice. He isn't facing you, but you had an idea of who he may be with that blond hair. It was no one else but someone you've just gotten closer with over the past few weeks.

"Atsumu, is that you?" breaking the suspenseful tension that rose in the air. His back turns away from you, chocolate eyes wide open with brows raised. Atsumu's face was slightly still flushed from volleyball practice and his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Hey! Um look.." his shyness taking over when you walked up to him. A hair scratching his nape.

"You wrote that letter in my locker right..?" The awkwardness starting to build up like the first time you both met.

"Yes, I just really have to say these words to you. It's like nippin' at me like crazy" his big eyes are nervously flicking back between his trembling hands and your face.

You've never seen your best friend act this way before. Something must be really aching at him if he's being like this. He's biting down on his bottom lip before parting them again.

"I really.. just, like ya" his husky voice getting lower, hoping you heard him through his slight mumbling.

Atumu's more than flushed. He was practically burning a hit red. His heart is thumping more than a hundred miles per hour. He can't believe he just confessed.

On your end, your face is frozen in mid-gasp. This was more than just a surprise since you've always had this nagging feeling that drew you towards him. You finally understand why, not just as bestfriends, but because you also liked him.

"Atsumu.." tilting your head up just right below his tall stature. You're automatically smiling from his words. The contentness you're feeling is unmatched by his, you can't even wipe off the grin from your face.

"..I just wanna be yours-" he's feeling a warm hand reach to caressing the side of his face. A wave of euphoria washing over him when your lips make contact with his.

His eyes are bigger than the volleyballs that he sets on court. He can't believe his confession went so well. He's gonna for sure brag about this to Osamu later.

Unlatching your lips to respond to him, a wide beam of joy radiating from your smile. Looking at his red complexation, his mouth parted, looking absolutely dumbfounded and awestruck.

"Duh, you've always been!"

masterlist here

[talaok]

Poor, naive, Marcus

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the QZ, and you're his little bunny everyone knows better than to look at, but when Marcus, one of his guys, breaks that rule, Joel decides to teach him a lesson.

Warnings: I'm not gonna lie, this is 2.8 k of porn so... violence, smut | very very much exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, and of course lots of daddy-kink, praising, and pet naming

a/n: This is self-indulgence at its core, you guys don't understand how much I love them

Btw this is kind of a part 2 to this

He was drunk enough not to realize what he was doing, or drunk enough not to care at all.

His hands were roaming every inch of your body, groaning and painting as if just the feel of your skin was bringing him pleasure, which, truth be told, it probably was.

Your eyes were closed, but you didn't need to see to know people were staring, everyone was staring, whispering, gasping as they watched Marcus, oh poor Marcus, dance with you in the middle of the bar.

The people on the makeshift dancefloor had taken one, two, five steps away from you as if they sensed what was inevitably coming.

But Marcus, poor naive Marcus, he was too busy burying his face between your shoulder and neck to even notice.

"you smell so good" he groaned, forcing you flush against him and his evident bulge.

You couldn't help but chuckle.

Just one of the many advantages of being, or better, having been the boss' bunny.

"thank you" you whispered, playing with his long messy hair as he started kissing your neck as if his life depended on it.

"You like that?"

"yeah Marcus, you're doing good" You stifled a laugh, as he looked at you like a lost puppy

"O-ok" he nodded, "It's just that- you're very beautiful, and I-"

You only needed to smile to shut him up

"Marcus" you cooed "stop talking"

He nodded, again, and you returned to swaying your body to the music, his lips back on your skin.

You heard the people moving out of the way before you heard the door slam against the wall.

You shouldn't, you really shouldn't have, but the smile on your lips just really brought itself to life.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He wasn't talking to you.

Marcus, poor Marcus, looked like he was about to go number one, right there in front of everyone.

The quiet whispers that filled the smoky air just moments before had ceased,

even the music had stopped.

That's what he did.

The boss had arrived, and time had stopped.

You turned around, and there he was, in all his glory... he did look disheveled though, like he had run here, like you had interrupted something you were sure must have been very important.

But he wasn't looking at you, the primordial rage in his eyes was solely directed to the man next to you.

"You deaf? I asked you what the fuck you think you're doing" He took a step closer to him.

Joel wasn't that much taller than Marcus, but right now, hell, right now he looked seven feet tall, and ready to crush him with his bare hands.

"I-I"

"You what?" he gripped the collar of his shirt "What?" he spat, inching closer to his face.

"I didn't- I din-"

"I haven't even broken your yaw yet and you already can't talk" Joel snickered, 

"Bunny, if you wanted to make me pay, you could have at least found yourself a man"

You had to bite your grin down, 

No, you're still mad at him

"I didn't know you were together!" Marcus suddenly yelled.

Joel took his sweet time tearing his gaze off of you.

The skirt you chose, the same short, short one he had gifted you, had definitely been noticed.

"She-She told me you broke up. T-that it was over- "

"Did she, now?" 

"Y-yes, Boss, I swear" he nodded vigorously "I would have never touched her if I'd-"

And just like that,

Marcus' words died in his throat once Joel had wrapped his big hands around it.

"N-no- pleas-e"

He was barely breathing, his eyes looking like they were ready to pop out of his skull.

"Joel" you breathed

He didn't budge, not of one inch.

His fingers stayed still around Marcus' neck

You sighed, stepping closer, close enough to place a hand on his shoulder, close enough to stand on your toes and reach your mouth just right to his ear.

"Daddy" you whispered "let him go"

And so he did.

A sigh of relief was breathed by everyone in the room, everyone except Marcus, who was currently coughing his way back to life.

Joel's dark eyes were trained on you now.

"EVERYONE OUT"

Bodies scurried out the door in less than ten seconds. 

Marcus, oh poor Marcus, went to get away with them.

"not you" Joel didn't even need to glance at him to grab his forearm.

He stumbled backward, panic oozing off his every pore.

"B-boss"

"Shut the fuck up before I make you" 

That's all he said, before he pushed him to the side like a piece of trash.

Marcus nearly knocked over a chair.

"Joe-" you tried, as he walked closer to you.

"You told him we broke up" he cut you off

"We did" you reminded him, with a tilt of your head

"I don't remember agreeing to that"

You scowled

"That's not how breaking up works"

"and why not?" he was close enough to move some hair out of your face, his poisonous touch lingering on your skin like a curse and a blessing altogether.

"because I'm not one of your men, Joel, I do what I want"

He chuckled at your words, the vibrations of his voice bouncing off the filthy walls.

"Oh trust me, bunny, I know" he spoke, his mouth inches from yours "I know"

"Well then you should also know that we're done"

He watched you for a moment longer, before turning to Marcus, who was staring from the corner.

"Did he touch you?" he asked, turning back

"I think you already know the answer to that"

"Did he kiss you?"

You stayed silent.

Not because the answer was yes, but because a part of you, if not all of you, enjoyed torturing him.

"did you?" he turned back to the terrified man "Did you kiss my girl?"

"n-no" he immediately spat "No Boss I would n-"

"Is he telling the truth?"

You bit your lip, watching his eyes fall to the motion.

"He kissed my neck"

And in a second, his gun was in his hand and he was stalking toward Marcus.

"Don't kill him"

"why not?"

"yeah please listen to he-" With the barrel of a gun to his temple, it seems talking didn't come as easy.

"I'd have all the reasons," he said "he touched you"

You looked at him, really looked at him.

"Don't" you told him, and of course, as always, he obeyed.

"Sit down" Joel ordered him, but he was shaking.

Time stilled as he pulled the trigger, the wall behind Marcus crumbling as a bullet flew right through it.

"sit down or the next one goes through your skull"

He didn't need to be told twice.

"the things I do for you, bunny" he shook his head, sighing as he walked back to you.

You let your gaze travel to Marcus. He was seated to your right, staring at you, begging, pleading you to do something.

Poor, naive Marcus, he really didn't know what he had gotten himself into.

Joel was watching you like you were a drug and he an addict in withdrawal.

"where?" he asked his voice dangerously low.

He was inches from you. He had never been good at keeping his distance, and you were backed up against one of the tables.

"where what?" 

"where did he kiss you?"

"I already told you Joel," you said "My neck"

"here?" he breathed, his digit grazing the skin just below your ear 

You shook your head 

"lower?"

You nodded

"Here?" his finger was against your pulse

"lower" you could only whisper

"here" he bent down to murmur against your skin, before letting his lips do the rest.

He kissed you, and there it was... that electricity only he was capable of riling up in you.

"Joel..." you whimpered, as he grabbed your waist and started a slow trail of hot hot kisses up your neck.

he groaned, feeling the effect he was having on you.

"Now see Marcus" he spoke more loudly now in between kisses "That's where you went wrong... She likes it a lot more when you kiss her here" he smirked, kissing you below your ear "Ain't that right, bunny?"

You bit your lip, stifling your answer

"don't get shy now, bunny, tell him"

"I do" you surrendered, biting down a moan "I-I"

"I know sweetheart, I know" he cooed, his trail finally leaning towards your mouth "I know" he murmured a moment before kissing you.

His lips crashed with yours in a mess of moans and whimpers, as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

One of his hands was gripping your ass, undoubtedly hiking your skirt up enough for more of your skin to be showing, while his other hand was holding the back of your head and pushing you flush against him, leaving you no room to breathe.

"fuck bunny" he groaned "he kissed you like this?"

"no-no" you mumbled, reaching for his mouth again.

"And he touched you like this?"

You let out a gasp, as his hand made quick work of seeping into your panties.

"Did he?" he ghosted your mouth as two of his thick, oh-so-thick fingers slid between your folds, getting closer to your entrance.

"N-no he didn't"

He licked a stripe up your neck and whispered to your ear

"And who are you this wet for, bunny?" he teased, as his thumb found your clit "Did Marcus there do this?"

He bit your earlobe as he pushed two fingers inside, and what came out of your mouth was more a scream than a moan.

Both your arms flew to the back of his neck, holding for dear life.

"No!" you wined, as he started moving his digits in and out and curling them right into that spot he knew so well "It's all you daddy- all you" you promised, your voice so thin it was more of a whisper.

"hear that Marcus?" he asked the man to his right as if he wasn't two knuckles deep inside you 

"I don't think he heard bunny" he murmured sultrily as his thumb started circling your bud "Tell him darlin', tell him how wet you are for me"

"Ah-I'm-I'm so wet daddy, I'm so so-" You had to shut your eyes and bite down your bottom lip as the feeling got to be too much.

"that's my good girl" he breathed, his fingers still working relentlessly "You comin' bunny, you gonna cum for me?" 

You could feel your orgasm approach.

"mh-mh" you could only hum

"no no now" he tutted, grabbing your chin to have you look up at him "Use that pretty mouth of yours and answer me"

Your walls were squeezing his fingers and with each rut of his thumb against your clit a shock of electricity made its way up your spine.

Marcus was watching, you realized, as you opened your eyes. He was staring, knowing that he shouldn't have, but not being able not to.

"f-fuck" you moaned "I'm-god Daddy I'm coming!"

"that's better" he smirked "That's real good sweetheart" he breathed, watching you come apart "Now give it to me, come all over my fingers bunny"

And to that- to that you came, wailing and moaning like you were desperate, and screaming was the only way to make it better.

Your eyes were still closed as he retracted his fingers, and only when you heard a low humming, did you open them back up again.

He had his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them as if they were a lollipop.

"She's as sweet as honey Marcus" He looked at him " 's too bad you're never gonna get to taste her"

"is he bunny?" he asked, leaning into you again

"no"

"that's right" He grinned "now," he said, "what do you say we show Marcus what else he's never gonna get mh?"

"how 'bout we show him how you're all mine, and only I get to touch you?"

"yes" you could only whimper, as you nodded slowly, your brain a fuzzy mess.

"Yeah?"

"yes, daddy, please" you begged now, your hands raking down his chest until they reached the tent in his overused jeans.

"God bunny, you have no idea what you do to me" he groaned kissing the corner of your mouth.

"jump on the table"

You did so with no hesitation as he unfastened his belt and zipper in record time.

"You gonna be good for me now?" he asked, pulling his painfully hard cock out of his briefs "Gonna let me take care of you like you need to?"

"yes" you kissed him "Yes please please pl-"

"always so good for me" he bit your lip, moving your panties to the side and positioning himself at your entrance, the head of his dick rubbing against your slit.

"my pretty bunny" he breathed, finally pushing in.

"fuck" you cried, wrapping your legs around him...or at least trying to.

He groaned loudly, his head falling to your neck " 've missed you baby, missed this pussy so much-"

"I missed you too daddy" you confessed, 

"barely slept last night without you by my side bunny" he groaned, starting to move and causing a gasp to your throat "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you y'know" his words tickled against your ear "I don't want you to ever do that again bunny" he spoke, his thrust so slow and yet so agonizingly deep "I need you" 

And there it was, the Joel Miller only you knew.

"I won't" you whispered, one of your hands gripping his hair while the other kept you stable on the table 

"you promise?"

"I promise Daddy" You kissed the skin of his neck you could access "It's me and you"

You felt him smile against your shoulder 

"me and you" he repeated your words, leaning away to look at you.

You both smiled at each other like idiots, but before you could fully take the moment in, he thrust out and inside of you so harshly and so fucking deeply that your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"oh my god" you started chanting, your head falling backward.

"you're so tight" he breathed, rolling his hips as he angled his cock to ruin you completely "She's so tight Marcus" he spoke more loudly, grinning like a bastard.

You chuckled, followed by him, and before you knew it, he was kissing you, and it wasn't a pretty kiss, oh no, it was a mess of moans and groans and teeth and yet it felt better than anything else in this world.

"fuck" you moaned "You feel so good, daddy" 

"yeah?" he sucked in a breath, still smirking "Say it a little louder- tell Marcus who only gets to touch you- who you belong to baby"

"you daddy" you screamed "I'm yours- only yours"

"that's right" he picked up his pace "and is anyone else ever gonna touch this precious little body of yours?"

"n-no" you muttered, ecstasy taking over your body "O-only you"

"atta girl" he murmured his hands gripping your waist to force himself deeper "You gonna give me another one bunny?" he watched your fucked out self "You gonna squeeze me real good like you do and let me fill you up with my come, sweetheart?"

"yes" you whined "Yes please fill me up, Daddy"

"After you bunny, you know how it works" he smirked

"I'm almost there-" you gasped "I'm coming daddy. I'm-"

And before you knew it a tsunami of pleasure had overcome you. Your legs were shaking, your eyes were teary and every part of your body felt both on fire and never more alive.

He came with a loud groan right after you, painting your insides with endless ropes of his come.

" I love you bunny," he said, after catching his breath

"I love you too daddy" you promised, kissing him with a gentleness he only enjoyed receiving by you.

"I wish we could go for another round but I got business to take care of" he sighed, nodding to... Oh right, Marcus was still there.

You couldn't help the giggle fleeing your lips.

He shook his head as he watched that heartstopping smile of yours "You go, David will take you home, I don't want you to see this" he said, pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

"Joel..." you pouted, "you said you weren't gonna kill him"

He raised his eyebrows "You were serious?"

"of course I was" 

"bunny..." he groaned, letting his forehead fall to yours

"No. No Joel I don't want you to kill him"

He looked into your eyes for a moment, trying to understand how serious you were.

"Can I at least have a little fun with him?" he asked

"Fine" you agreed "but don't hit his face" you said, making him frown "I kinda like his face" you explained

He smiled before meeting his lips with yours again "Your wish is my command, bunny"

[cryptidghostgirl]

Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

[aurumacadicus]

This is more AA than MCU but I can't imagine AA Tony doing this lmao.

--

"Mr. Stark," Peter said, looking up from his phone.

"I'm not doing another TikTok," Tony answered immediately, not looking up from his tablet.

Peter scoffed, as if he wasn't going to suggest just that. "I was just going to ask if you ever wondered what Captain America sees when he looks at you."

Tony lifted his head, preemptively exhausted. "His name is Steve."

"It feels illegal to call him that," Peter said defensively. "Do you know how many times I've had to watch his school specials? 'So. You got detention.'"

Tony turned to look over the couch at him. "Would it make you feel better if I told you that it took him six takes because the first five, he followed it up with 'you fucked up' instead of 'you messed up?'"

"Yes," Peter answered. He began tapping frantically at his phone. Probably trying not to look suspicious as he asked JARVIS for access to the blooper reels. "You didn't answer my question."

Tony sighed, closing his eyes, then turned to look at him again. "I know what Steve sees when he looks at me. I'm out of the bathroom and ready for work by the time he gets back from his runs."

Peter blinked back at him, probably going for innocent and failing, because Tony knew him. "No, I mean how you look from his height. You're five-seven--"

"Five foot eight," Tony cut in. "And Steve's six feet tall. It's not like he's a giant and I'm an oompa loompa."

"Steve's six-foot-three," Peter told him gently.

"Steve is not two thirds of a foot taller than me," Tony sputtered, offended. He was a perfectly respectable five-eight and Steve was a frustrating six-foot brick. He was not three inches taller than that. Tony would not allow it.

"He is," Peter assured him, with that same gentle tone. "JARVIS?"

Tony whipped his head around to glare at one of JARVIS's cameras. There was a long pause, as if he was considering his answer. Finally, though, he replied, "From current measurements, Mr. Parker seems correct in his assertions."

"Not if I take him out at the knees," Tony hissed.

Peter stared at him for a very long time, looking unsure of whether he wanted to continue the conversation. Finally, though, he rallied. "I think we should see what Steve sees."

"My beautiful face," Tony answered sternly, looking back down at his tablet. He poked at some measurements for the engine he was designing for a moment, then turned to scowl at him. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

Peter finally hopped off his stool and walked over to the nearest wall, crawling up so he could fix his phone to it at the proper height with some webbing. He tapped at the camera for a moment, then hopped back down onto the ground and waved up at it. "Ta-da! This should be about the height of Steve's eyes."

Reluctantly, Tony set his tablet aside and got up off the couch. He already didn't like what he was seeing in the camera from a distance.

"Why is there a camera on the wall?" Natasha asked, stepping out of the elevator. She began moving toward the kitchen, circling the camera's main view.

"We're checking to see what we look like to Steve," Peter offered.

Tony grimaced as he looked up into the camera. "Oh my god. Natasha, come here."

"No," Natasha answered. "I'm hungry."

"I look like I should be," Tony began, covering his mouth in horror as he moved from side to side. "Oh my god." He turned back to the camera and lifted his hands up like he would to wrap them around the back of Steve's neck. "I look like I should be saying 'up,'" he finished tearfully.

Natasha appeared beside him a second later, looking horrified in the camera's reflection. "This is what he sees when he looks at me?"

"You're even smaller than I am, what the fu--" Tony covered his mouth again, dropping his gaze down to his feet so he couldn't see the video anymore. He tipped his head up to look through his lashes, unable to help wondering what that looked like to Steve, and let out a howl of dismay. No wonder Steve always teased him about pouting when he was in a sulk or mad.

Natasha took a step closer and looked like she instantly regretted it. She pulled a knife. It didn't look threatening, even to her, and she knew she'd follow through on a stab. "Oh," she said, and then her hands flew to her head, turning away from the camera. "Oh my god Tony."

"This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me," Tony whispered, reaching up to grab the phone down.

"Thor's taller," Natasha choked out.

Tony froze, hand halfway toward the phone, then let out a scream and crumpled to the ground as if he'd been shot.

Peter grabbed his phone while Tony and Natasha were recovering and bolted for the elevator. He didn't want them blaming him for this revelation. He passed Steve, Thor, and Clint as he was rushing out of the lobby and managed a short but sincere, "I'm sorry for what's about to happen to you."

"What?" Steve called after him, aghast, but Peter didn't turn.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Do you ever think about how freaking tall One Piece characters are

Regularly, yes

You have the obvious behemoths like Kaido, King, Whitebeard, and like half of the Charlotte family

Then there are the ones that are freakishly tall, but at least vaguely manageable like Doflamingo, Corazon, the Admirals, and the fishmen

And then there are the deceptively tall ones that you don't see coming because Oda doesn't bother drawing characters to scale most of the time. I have been jumpscared by characters' heights so many times when I went to check their wiki for something. Like I assumed that Garp was a relatively normal height, but no. 9'5". Even Dragon is freakishly tall at 8'5", putting him at an inch over Crocodile. Lucci seems pretty normal looking, right? Wrong. He's 6'11", pretty much seven feet tall. Which, granted, seems normal when compared to everyone else, but it would be jarring to see someone that tall in real life.

It's a good thing that I'm a dedicated Sanji (5'11", still distinctly tall, but at least in a normal way) simp, because he's the only man I can be with without potentially dying because of the size difference lmao

[credince--writes]

Deep In Those Woods- Chapter 8

Keegan P. Russ x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6- Chapter 7- Chapter 8

AO3

You find a strange man in the woods, no doubt running from the federation. He seems, well, in simple terms beat to shit. May your act of kindness not go unpunished.

A/N: holy fuck i'm back?

Taglist:

@dindjarinsmeshla @tessxq @ladyvlolypop @tiny-kasper

@biggiecheeselover @konigsleftkidney @mykneeshurt @katsufairies @noname0756 @brain-has-left @vinithechocolatevampire

It was the sound of men that woke You. Dazed somewhere in between the land of sleep and consciousness- the lead heavy feeling of dread settled in her gut as you opened your eyes. The hairs of the back of your neck- arms- raised straight and tall.

The sound of men.

A million horrible thoughts flashed through your mind- none of them you’d be willing to sit down and analyze too quickly- to send yourself down that spiral of dread and reality. It had been nearly three weeks since that dreadful man took the mask from your hands, and simply walked out into the forest without so much as an acknowledgement or a thank you. It had been a week of anger- a week of sorrow at the loss of the little companionship you’d been able to savor in this self-inflicted, necessary, prison. 

The sounds of whooping-

Gunshots.

Seven. 

You were up, moving in the dark. Your clothes- dirty from the work in the garden yesterday piled at the foot of your bed were already being pulled on. A light sweater- overalls, socks. Your bedroom door was open, with a straight shot to see the tunneling flashlights the group of men were carrying tearing through the dark of night. There’s a handgun in your bedside drawer- a 40 cal that belonged to your father. It felt heavy and cold but tucked neatly into the strap along the waist of your overalls. The extra clips tucked into the many pockets. 

Your chest, flat against the floor as you slid forward- arm outstretched. The pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Grabbing the large canvas bag pre-packed with essentials. Right next to it the long, cold cylindrical metal of a shotgun.

Yours.

You’d grimmance- but even though there were too many thoughts running through your mind it was silent. A horrible calm- the retracted muddy floor of the sea before a tsunami. The sound of the butt of the shotgun dragging against the wooden floors as you pulled it closer- up into your arms as if you were coddling a child hiding from the monster.

More gunshots.

Rifles. Close.

Three shots.

You slip into the kitchen at the sound of breaking glass- had they tried the door knob they’d have known that it wasn’t locked. Not here- not in her safe place. There had never been any stragglers in the years she’d spent here.

Not until he had come-

Wrapping preserved jars in fabric as quickly as you could- a satchel of fabric and dried meats, anything you could quickly grab and stuff into the bag to remain as quiet as possible without alerting them to the possibility of your presence.

They’re speaking- a language you can’t understand. Spanish, part of you offers up. The only logical language in this fucking occupation-

Footsteps, getting closer.

The cabinets in front of you illuminated, the glass reflecting back and flowing the tall figure of a man with a light on the end of his rifle.

Your heartbeat, pounding. 

Your grip tightens on the gun- finger inched towards the trigger. Dread’s cold claws digging into your skin- would you be fast enough? Could you truly fight back? Kill? What will they do with your body? 

You close your eyes, as tight as they can go- the sound of the man's footsteps on wood changes, now on tile. Now in the kitchen- behind nearly ten feet backwards and to the left.

You have no shoes- you have no plan. You are packed- ready for this, dreading the possibility but preparing for it since the day you came out here. 

You are not ready for this-

You are not ready for death, you are not ready to die- you are not ready.

Not ready-

Not ready at all-

The footsteps retract at the sound of a man calling from down the hall. Counting to ten, you peak your head out to see the backs of two men standing in the hallway daring to look into your bedroom.

The sound of drawers being opened- the sound of pillaging, rustling.

The bile rises in the back of your throat. Your eyes quickly snap to look at the pair of shoes sitting by the door. They’d both ducked into your bedroom completely, the sound of your socks against the flooring not registering. Grabbing both shoes- 

Laughing-

You crane your neck to the side, the sound of it- predatory and gleeful. Snickering and muttering little comments back and forth to each other. Peeking your head out barely from behind the line of sight of a beam you could see it. They stood in the doorway nearly chest to chest pawing over something shared between their hands- fighting over it like dogs ripping apart the corpse of an alleycat cornered in its home.

Held between two hands was a pair of your panties- being waved around like a prize.

You wanted to vomit.

Without thinking, the butt of the shotgun was shouldered against you. Feet squared. You take two steps to the right- thigh brushing up against the couch you’d spent so many hours lazing on. Staring up at the sky and dreaming of the future and better days- the flowers that came every year in the spring.

The sound of your foot scraping against the ground.

Their heads turn- stepping forward.

The sound of the shot didn’t register, only the kick against your shoulder. Suddenly the top and sides of the doorframe are much darker- a splatter against the wall.

The slump of two bodies.

The sounds of shouting.

The racking back and forth of the shotgun filling the ringing in your ears.

You're running- out the side door of the kitchen and away from the flashlights flickering across the lawn and into your home. There’s barely a sliver of moonlight in the sky, just enough light and the habitual knowledge of the land beneath you keeping you from tripping up and screaming in fear.

The flashlights flicker onto the glass in front of you- you see the hairs atop your head in your peripheral reflecting light. The blinding glare of a flashlight to the left of you catching up too quickly- not with the weight of your bag to keep up with.

He’s going to tackle you- you know this. You know that when he gets you down onto the ground you won’t be able to fight back. He’ll be too heavy- too strong.

You stop, spin as quickly as you can while raising the shotgun up- not enough time to properly shoulder it and fire. You feel nothing other than the pounding of your heartbeat and the adrenaline coursing through your veins. His body is still in motion, colliding with you and sending you tumbling to the ground.

The wet gurgling and the hot, sticky blood pouring onto you. The shotgun tossed somewhere to the side forgotten as you force down a gag- swallowing the vomit rising up in the back of your throat. You push your hands onto shoulders, only to be met with something you could only explain as hot hamburger meat.

You can feel the blood seeping out of the holes with the last pumps of his heart. Your pinky- slipping into one of the holes near his collarbone. You feel the bone- under the skin, trying to heave his dead weight off of you. Rolling, struggling, kicking your legs out and onto the ground trying to obtain better traction. Slipping your arm from the back weighing you down, you roll back and forth obtaining the smallest momentum and are able to push the corpse from your body and onto the grass beneath you. Staring up into the sky trying to spit the blood from your lips- blinded by the flashlight at the end of the rifle inches from your face.

[zoandreez]

hiding in plain sight . (prologue)

pairing: ao'nung x omaticayan!reader

summary: your mother worked alongside miles quartitch in the sky people battle. as a dreamwalker, similar to grace, she got pregnant (occurrence unknown.) after miles' death, the sky people retreated. you grew up alone on pandora, afraid of what was outside of your make-shift sanctuary, until one day you go hunting and bump into some of the sullys.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: like 2 seconds of angst

as you frantically scrambled around your hut of trees and leaves, a ripped (and mostly fluff-less) pillow, and organization of old blankets you found from the abandoned pods, the day you had been dreading for a few weeks had finally came.

you were out of food.

of course, for any na'vi this is no big deal, all they have to do is go hunting. however, in your case it isn't exactly that easy. the other omaticayan do not know you exist. your mother, jasmine brooks, worked for miles quartitch, who (you quickly learned) wasn't the best person to know on pandora. during the sky people war, your mother as a dream walker was concieved. although the answers to how are still unknown, you were born with five fingers, five toes, and eyebrows, resembling human features more than na'vi. the sky people had no time to react, and with no clue how to deal with you, abandoned you.

luckily, you were just about 3 years old when they abandoned you and understood the basics of life-- walking, peeling fruits and such. you had to train yourself to hunt, to make your own loincloths, and other necessities. you never went hunting much, in fear you would be discovered. so, once every three months, you would wait until night to hunt until the sun rose, to have enough food for the next few months.

the last cycle was five months ago, thank eywa for that. however, you knew you were too lucky, as your next hunting spree would need to begin today. in the morning. you had no food for the rest of the day, and you didn't want to hold out, you were skinny and rationed enough. you grabbed your bow and your arrows and carefully snuck out of your hut, beginning your day-long hunt.

about an hour has passed, and it seemed to be going great so far. you had quite a bit of spartan and yovo fruits to get you through for a week, and you decided you'd get your months worth stash next week. on your way back, you had begun to dig into a yovo fruit, one of the smaller ones, when suddenly you heard murmurs.

"tuk, keep up!" you heard a boy shout.

your ears tilted up as you turned your head in the direction of the noise. you said nothing as you backed away, afraid running would bring too much attention your way.

"bro, why'd you bring her anyway?" you heard another boy say, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

something about the scene, instead of scaring you, enticed you. you inched closer to the voices, finally stopping behind a tree. you peeked between two branches like a window as you stared at the 4. it was a na'vi boy, braids pulled back into a ponytail, leading the group. quickly following behind was a na'vi girl, younger than the rest, swaying her tail as she leapt across the log following him. a taller girl, strolled behind casually, as the human boy caught your attention, with a breathing mask on.

"she's such a crybaby." the na'vi boy huffed, and the steps on the grass you once heard stopped. "she's all, 'i'm telling! you're not supposed to go to the battlefield. i'll tell mom if you don't let me come.'"

the youngest one, most likely who tuk is, stuck her tongue out at the na'vi boy. you smiled at her remark. the older girl blurted out a quick "don't pick at her," looking at him with disapproval.

they continued on their path, and you quickly ran to drop your fruit off and follow them. it looked like they were heading to the pods, and miles' old suit. you passed by thousands of times, breathing in your mothers old mask or sitting in her pod (unfortunately someone seven, eight feet tall cant lay in a five foot pod.) you followed the familiar path as the four began to speak again.

"come on," na'vi boy spoke again. as he climbed up to the crashed ships, the three of the other companions followed.

"oh, sick." the human boy called. you began to walk further out, uninterested in the chance of "any dead bodies up there," that tuk claims to want to see. you followed the older na'vi girl, as she walked further into the nature. she brushed her fingertips against the branches and lifted her arms to twirl with the leaves, before eventually laying down in the grass. you stepped closer to her, before freezing. you saw the many atokirina that flew ahead of you, and calmly circled themselves onto the girl.

you stared in awe as she lay asleep, the spirit seeds of eywa sitting on her, before they buzzed away. it was like she just got blessed? you had no clue what happened, and reached out to one of the atokirina to graze it-

"hey!" your head whipped up to the human boy. you quickly took off, brushing past him. "what were you doing? get back here!" he shouted, dashing after you before he shouted.

"lo'ak! tackle that girl, i think she hurt kiri!" you looked around, for any signs of lo'ak, the now name-assigned na'vi boy. after not seeing him, you took off for safety before you were pinned down by lo'ak.

"who are you?" he blurted out.

"get off me!" you protested, twisting and turning as you reached for your knife.

he quickly stopped you, but froze when he grabbed your hand. slowly, he put his hand up to yours. it took you a minute to realize what he was doing, until you looked. your hands matched up perfectly, but that isn't supposed to happen unless..

"are you a dreamwalker?" you both asked, and looked at each other in shock. "what do you mean are you a dreamwalker? stop copying me. why are you saying everything i say? stop it!"

the human boy interjected. "wait, what are you guys talking about, 'dreamwalker?'"

"she has five fingers."

the boy turned to look at you, before walking up and looking at her hands. "so, what- do we take her to dad?" "no way, he'll kill us if he knew we came this far."

"he'll kill us if we don't tell him the sky people are back."

you watched the two argue for a moment, before lo'ak finally sighed and gave in. he looked back at you. "sorry dreamwalker, gotta turn you in to big boss." he said before tapping his neck, as you caught sight of the little mic he had.

"but i'm not a dreamwalker."

the boys both froze and looked at you. "so, what are you?" the human boy said.

"well, my mother was. i'm just.. a freak." you said, wiggling your pinky.

lo'ak hesitated for a bit, looking at you. he had no clue whether to believe you or not. he grew up thinking he was a freak for his fifth finger, his eyebrows, his demon blood. now, this girl that laid before him could be like him. or, she could be what he's sworn to not. a sky person. a demon. he pressed his mic.

"devil dog, devil dog this is eagle eye, over." he spoke.

after a moment, they heard static and then a male voice spoke. "eagle eye, send your traffic." the male said. you stared off into the distance.

"we found this girl, she looks like an avatar, but she says shes not a dreamwalker. she has five fingers though, and we've never seen her before." you had begun to wriggle under his grasp, not wanting to be caught. "let me go!" you protested.

"where are you?" the male on the other line said. lo'ak looked at the now returned human boy, with kiri, and hesitated before answering. kiri mouthed a snarky remark to lo'ak that you couldn't hear, but it made lo'ak wince.

"oh. we're.. we're um.. attheoldshack." he said quickly.

"who's we? who's with you?"

"me, kiri, spider... tuk."

you heard a faint gasp in the speaker on his neck, and looked over at tuk as she said to kiri, "is dad coming for us?"

"dad's coming for lo'ak's ass, definitely." lo'ak hit kiri on the shoulder, as he continued to lean on you with his knee on your back, one hand pinning your wrists together.

this just acts as a prologue for a series i have coming, i figured i should get practice writing in!

[howtofightwrite]

I have read your post about how size doesn't really matter if the two fighters are equally trained, but I wanted to ask if the same holds true in an armed fight? Like sword fights and the like? Sorry if this has been asked before, or if it is not your specific area of expertise. Thank you!!!!

I'm pretty sure we've covered this before but I'll go again.

The way you've phrased it is a little vague, and the answers are different.

If you're asking about to fighters with roughly equivalent gear, then, no, their size and weight won't matter that much. If you have a thirty-six inch razor blade, and your opponent has a thirty-six inch razor blade, it doesn't really matter if you're an inch taller. Hell, at that point, it really doesn't even matter much if you're a foot taller, yes that means your effective reach is going to be a little longer (about 6.2 inches in this case.) But, the difference between being able to take a swipe at someone standing seventy-eight inches away from you, versus being limited to a mere seventy-two inches, isn't a huge deal. Now, that extra six inches of reach isn't nothing (and, realistically, those numbers will be a little lower overall (I'm halving average arm/span, and assuming they're six and seven feet tall, which does result in one abnormally high number. When you start looking at more nominal height ranges, like 5'7 vs 5'11, the actual difference in reach will drop around an inch. Bluntly, that doesn't matter.)

Now, if you're asking about their weapons, this is an entirely different situation. A specific case we had in the past was someone who wanted their dual wielding dagger user to go toe to toe with someone armed with a greatsword. In the real world, greatswords tend to have, at least, a sixty inch blade, while most knives are going to be under a foot long. In a situation like this, the greatsword creates a five foot kill zone around its user that the dagger wielder cannot traverse. As a result, they cannot attack the greatsword user without some serious creativity, or the element of surprise.

This is true for all weapons. They all have both a maximum and minimum effective range, and while the wielder can often do things to keep the weapon, at least, partially functional at very close ranges (such as pommel strikes, or half-handing), the effective range of a weapon is extremely important to understand. Also, and I hope this was clear already, but this applies to melee weapons. It's pretty common to think about ranged weapons having a max effective range, but this is just as true of a sword or spear. Similarly, as I mentioned, they have a minimum effective range as well. A lone spear user can keep themselves safe from a dagger wielder if they can keep the knives out of reach, but if the dagger fighter manages to get past their spearhead, that weapon is going to be far less effective (though, it won't become completely useless. It is still a staff, with pointy bits.) (Also, minimum effective range does apply with ranged weapons as well. Again, not something we think about often, but it is true, and why things like the eight foot rule exists for handguns.)

It's a little out of scope here, but the weight of your weapon is also extremely important. The heavier a weapon is, the faster it will tire out its wielder. And, to slightly oversimplify, an exhausted fighter is a dead fighter. This is why swords are remarkably light, frequently weighing less than two pounds, with the upper end of the spectrum (the greatswords like the Claymore or Zweihander) still weighing than a well fed, adult, housecat. Heavy weapons can easily become a death sentence to their user. And you do not need a lot of weight to get the job done. An eight pound hammer is both shockingly heavy (as weapons go), but it will do unspeakable things to anyone it solidly connects with.

In a competitive sense, if your weapon is heavier that will turn into a disadvantage over time. It's difficult to exploit in a one on one fight, but on an afternoon battlefield, where the fighting has been going since dawn, that will have had a chance to wear down the wielders.

So, yes and no, it depends if you're asking about the fighters, where it doesn't matter, or the weapons, where it becomes extremely important.

-Starke

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[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Mae West (She Done Him Wrong, I'm No Angel)— Legendary sex symbol. Like 500 vintage iconic quotes and double entendres. "Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? " "When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad, I'm better" / "It's not the men in your life that count, it's the life in your men" / "I feel like a million tonight. But one at a time." , "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready for an institution. " / " How tall are you without your horse? Six foot, seven inches. Never mind the six feet. Let's talk about the seven inches! " Look the pictures don't do her justice just watch a compilation and tell me that voice doesn't do it for you

Flora Robson (Fire over England, Sarabande for Dead Lovers)— It's a testament to her power that despite an extensive film career, that a single role has cemented itself firmly in my mind as one of the best. That of Elizabeth I in Five over England

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Mae West:

Her voice! Her body! She was thick as hell and SO confident.

Mae West is often called the queen of the sexual pun or innuendo, she was an early sex symbol and a comedy icon. She also has a quote saying "When I am good, I am very good. But when I am bad I am better!" which is possibly the peak of hot girl energy ever. (Including the clip here)

for an era that didn't have much wiggle room when it came to women that studios wanted in their films, it's refreshing that she was in her late 30s when she skyrocketed to movie fame. she was also curvy and witty and raunchy, an absolute icon!

She is an absolute icon, the OG sex symbol. Every word from her mouth was an innuendo and she was proud of it. I guess one could say she slayed. She got Cary Grant his first acting role, as well. How could you NOT vote for someone who says such iconic stuff as "I do all my writing in bed; everybody knows I do my best work there" or "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." SHE COINED THE PHRASE "IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?" I LOVE HER!!!

“I created myself and I never put up with sloppy work”-mae west

great short compilation of mae west mae westing:

She was a SEX GODDESS at a time when that was an extremely scandalous thing to be, and she worked it! She was sardonic, sarcastic, funny...and stacked! Favorite quote (from Night After Night, 1933): Random woman: Goodness! What beautiful diamonds! Mae West: Goodness had nothin' to do with it, dearie.

i personally love this silly production number from one of her lesser known movies

She was arrested for indecency and chose to serve 10 days in prison instead of paying the fine for the publicity, and she claimed that she refused to wear the ugly prison outfits so she wore her silk lingerie the entire time. Also one of the first historybound vintage fashion icons (although vintage for her was the Victorian era)

Flora Robson:

[ddejavvu]

pairing: savage opress x reader

summary: savage stands at a lumbering 7'1, and he likes comparing the size of your body to his own.

contents: size kink size kink size kink size kink size kink. smut, minors dni, afab!reader, obvious implications of reader being shorter/smaller than savage but i'm betting most of you aren't seven feet tall and absolutely jacked so i feel like it's pretty inclusive to both height and weight

Even sitting down, Savage is a formidable height. Only aided by his crown of horns, lethally sharpened all except for the one that's chopped in half, he stands at 7 foot 1 inch, which is significantly taller than yourself. Equally disproportionate to yourself are his hands, which frame your hips and mold so perfectly to the skin there that you think they could affix themselves there permanently.

He could if he would. He lets out a low, rumbling, appreciative groan at the sight of your ass rocking back onto his lap, and though his bulge is still clothed, you fear it's going to rip through the fabric restraining it. The sensation of his covered cock rubbing roughly against your sensitive folds makes you whimper, and you yearn for nothing more than to shred his clothing and sink down onto his dick. Unfortunately, he's got the claws. They're arched elegantly against your skin, their points sure to leave marks that will eventually even out to your smooth skin in a few days. Savage never marks the same spot twice in a row, but he prefers having remnants of his claws on you at all times.

Your lack of penetration settles an ache deep inside of your core; a throbbing pain that can only be sated with the equally massive length that lies stiff between Savage's legs.

"Oh, darling," His voice is rough, dripping with greed and reverence as he helps you grind back onto his dick. He watches as your slickened cunt leaves a glistening trail over his clothing, a mark that soaks into the fabric and leaves his dick stinging with want.

"You move so well," He praises, like the gyration of your hips isn't equally his effort and your own. He's holding you up while the blood rushes to your head; your hands are braced against the floor while he rolls your ass over his bulge. It's a difficult position to maintain, but the dizziness that you're experiencing while you dangle from Savage's lap makes your internal waves of pleasure stronger. This lustful ecstasy is so much better without thinking involved; only the steady, persistent grinding of Savage's clothed cock over your needy cunt.

"Savage-" You manage to spout, your own voice marled by your less-than-comfortable position, "Savage I want- mmh!" You feel him press your hips further down onto his cock, the rugged, damp material of his clothes pressing against your clit, "-I want you! Now, please- please, I want you inside of me."

"You're not ready," Savage laments, because a man seven feet off of the ground sports more inches than is manageable for a human like yourself between the legs, "Patience, darling. I will get you ready."

"Just- aah! Just the tip, please," You beg, dangling by his feet, nails scrabbling against the floor.

Savage goes momentarily quiet after your request, but you feel something hot and wet lave over your spine- teeth sink into the broad expanse of your back and you whimper at the pain-pleasure-pain.

"If you want it darling-" He purrs, his voice and breath heating the back of your neck as one, "You may have it."

There's the rustle of fabric being rumpled, then a distinctly slick sound that can only mean Savage is leaking, precum oozing from the tip of his cock that you want to lick into your mouth. You lurch forwards, attempting to scramble off of his lap to take his cock into your mouth, but he catches your weight with one firm hand, locking it over your hip bone.

"Not now. Now I want to see your ass," He hisses, licking his thumb and teasing it at the tight ring of your asshole that he can barely catch a glimpse of from the way your pussy is spread with your legs, "I want to watch your ass bounce while you grind on my cock. While your human cunt tries sucking up as much of me as it can. While you try spearing yourself on me."

His mere words have you cunt clenching around nothingness; terrible, empty, aching nothingness. Savage sees it, guiding the head of his cock towards your desperate folds. They're slick, and they'd allow for a sizeable portion of his length to sink into their warmth. But you'd hung yourself with the words just the tip, and Savage intends to give you exactly what you've asked for.

He teases the head of his cock against your slit, watching as your hole tightens and begs for more. It's producing a lewd squelching sound, skin on skin lubricated by what must be a gallon of slick wetness at this point. He strokes the length of himself with a nimble hand as he resumes bouncing your ass on his lap, letting the head of his cock breach your agonizingly needy pussy with tantalizingly little depth.

"There, darling," He purrs once again, voice rough like velvet stroked the wrong way, "Just the tip. Is that what you want?"

"No! No," You feel the painstakingly shallow breach of his dick through your slick slit, fruitlessly wriggling your hips as he keeps gyrating them, "No, please, Savage- please, I want more!"

"You are not ready," He repeats, voice sadistic more than it was empathetic before as he keeps teasing his cockhead against your core, "Keep moving, my love, and I will decide when you deserve to be filled."

[zaota]

please ignore the last five or so posts. my cervix got pounded with a seven inch dildo. I'm only five feet tall and I've never felt that sort of pressure. he watched me typed those while crying and roiling with pain and pleasure. it will happen again.

[monkishes]

Violent Delights | 01

Y/N volunteers in a mental hospital with the intention to help the patients and care for them. Everything seems to be normal, except for seven boys whom she was assigned to. She doesn't understand what mess she has gotten herself into, and when she does, it's too late to get out.

warnings : mental illnesses, mentions of eating disorders, mental asylum, pills/drugs.

word count : 1905

pairing : ot7 x reader

chapter 1 of ? ——— previous -> next

Your ears filled with the cacophony of honking cars mixed with the sounds of people shouting. For the past ten minutes, you had been stuck in traffic, barely moving an inch. It felt as though the never ending flow of cars would never stop. You were practically leaning against the window, tapping your fingers on your thigh as irritation sank into every fibre in your body.

Frustrated, you sat up straight and beeped the horn another few times (even though you knew it wouldn't help.) A thought crossed your mind, and you realised the hospital wasn't too far from where you are right now. You frantically looked around for any available parking spaces, but everything was occupied, and everything that wasn't was practically impossible to get to.

Your hand itched towards your phone, gripping onto it and double tapping to check the time. 12:23PM, it read. Over twenty minutes late. If it continued to look like this, you wouldn't get to the hospital anytime soon.

The only thing left for you to do was to wait and pray that the traffic moved on.

Quickly hurrying out of the car, your shoes clacked against the concrete floors of the car park as you made your way over to the tall building. It loomed over you, seemingly stretching into the sky with no end.

A little further away from the entrance, you watched as another person rushed in through the doors. They seemed to be coming from the same traffic you came from. Unlike them, you didn't immediately run over to the doors, and instead took a minute to look at yourself in a compact mirror, checking if you looked presentable. After patting down a few flyaways, you let out a deep breathe and went back to speed walking towards the entrance.

The automatic glass doors opened as you stood before them, granting you entry and you stepped through them. The noise from the outside world was instantly replaced by the bustling sounds of the busy hospital. It was loud, the sounds of footsteps, inaudible conversations and medical equipment filling the air.

Your eyes darted from place to place before landing on the reception desk and you made your way over. The receptionist was engrossed in her computer, not sparing you a glance as you stood before her.

You hesitated for a moment before clearing your throat, but even that didn't seem to catch her attention, she continued clicking away on her keyboard as if you didn't even exist.

"Excuse me?" you mumbled, somewhat embarrassed as the receptionist glanced up towards you. "I'm here as a volunteer."

The receptionist straightened up, and you noticed the name tag attached to the right side of her uniform, Bora.

She looked at you up and down, her lip quirking up as she met your eyes. "You're over forty minutes late."

"I know, there was a lot of—"

"Traffic? Yes, I know. I also know of other volunteers who took the same route as you but managed to come on time, if not even earlier." Bora pushed herself back on her spinning chair, folding her arms and maintaining eye contact with you. Her intense gaze caused you to look down in shame, you hadn't realised forty minutes had passed.

"I—"

"Listen, I know you're not getting paid for this, but if you're just here to waste our time, the door's right there. The people here need help, we're not here to mess around." she pointed towards where you came from, and you couldn't help but glance for a second towards there. If she interrupted you one more time, maybe you would consider leaving.

"I apologise, I'm here to help. Trust me, Bora, it won't happen again." you finally managed to say without being interrupted.

"It better not. Do you know where you need to go?"

"I was told that someone would brief me here." you explained, noticing the annoyance in her tone.

"Well, since you're late, figure things out yourself. What's your name?"

"Y/N..." you muttered before the began typing away at the computer. When she finally stopped, she spun her chair round to the other side where the printer was sat, and you watched as she impatiently waited for a paper to be released.

She spun back towards you, handing you a sheet of paper with a bunch of writing on it. "You'll have to go to Dr. Hans room to get the stuff you need, it's down that corridor," she said, motioning with her fingers towards a hall, "His name is on his door so you'll know it when you see it."

"I would go over the case files with you, but since you're so late, that'll have to be done on another day." she finished, going back to typing away.

"So... all I do is give them their prescriptions?" you question, holding up the paper and scanning it with your eyes.

Bora grumbled at your question, and now it was clear that she did not like you. For what reason, you had no clue, but could only assume it was because of your tardiness. Still, you had a valid reason, right? She didn't have to give you such attitude.

"You'll give them their prescriptions, clean their rooms and assist them with whatever they need. If it's something medical, you'll have to call a doctor. Got it?"

"Yeah, thanks." you send her a smile that is unreciprocated and only returned with a scowl and a roll of her eyes.

Bora seemed like a friendly person, maybe being late just got you onto her bad side. So much for a good first impression.

As she walked down the endless hallway, her eyes continued to read over the paper that was handed to her which consisted of seven names in bold black writing followed with their illness and what things they need. With furrowed eyebrows, you read over the names of their pills and confusion set into your mind at their foreign names. At least you didn't have to pick those out.

For a second, you had forgotten where you were headed, but soon remembered that Dr. Han's room was somewhere in this corridor and that he was in charge of the pills. Instead of scanning the paper, your eyes scanned the hall, looking for a door with the doctors name.

It didn't take long to find it, and you were standing in front of his door in no time.

You brought up your fist to the door, knocking once, causing a muffled voice to be heard from inside. "Come in," it said, and you could only assume that it was Dr. Han. Still clutching onto the paper with one hand, you used the other to push open the door, revealing a man sat down at a desk. He looked to be only a few years older than you, his dark black hair pushed back with glasses sat atop his head. For a second, you admired his beauty, were all the workers here so good looking?

"May I help you?" he asked, slightly tilting his head to the left.

"Are you Dr. Han?" you spoke, to which the man nodded. You took the chance to walk closer towards him, letting the door shut behind you. "I'm here as a volunteer, Bora sent me here."

He nodded in understanding, the polite smile never leaving his face. Dr Han stood from his position at his desk, gesturing with his finger for you to come closer. "Could you hand me that?" he asked, looking towards the paper in your hand.

You handed it to him, and proceeded to wait there patiently in silence as he made his way around the room, grabbing various pills from shelves and not once making a mistake. It seemed as though he knew the room like the back of his hand.

Since you were now standing right at his desk, you took the chance to let your eyes scan all of its contents. It consisted of a computer with a keyboard, but that's not what caught your attention. You noticed the names of two boys, attached with a picture and a bunch of other writing. Unfortunately, due to your horrible eyesight, you had to squint hard to make out any of the words, Park Jimin and J—

Before you could read out the second name, Dr. Han was already making his way back towards you, this time with a tray in hand. You took a step back, realising that you were making yourself appear as nosy and rude. This was none of your business, anyway.

He returned with the tray and several other items, carefully placing each one onto the gray tray before handing it to you. It was of medium size, able to fit onto one of ur hands if you could balance it properly. You noticed that he had put the sheet of paper that you previously had down onto the tray first, then put everything else on top, allowing you to read off the names and hold all the prescriptions with no problems.

"How comes you're so late?" the doctor questioned, looking at you with a curious gaze.

"Oh, there was a lot of traffic." you replied, smiling sheepishly and expecting to be told off. Instead, Dr. Han chuckled softly at your reaction before taking his seat.

"I assume Bora already scolded you for being late." he said, rolling himself closer to his desk. You nodded, letting your finger roam across the edge of the tray. "I apologise on her behalf, she can be quite a handful."

"It's no problem, I understand where she's coming from anyway."

"Yeah, but she's probably just cranky since you're working with 'her boys.'" he rolled his eyes, and you could sense the dislike he felt towards her.

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing, never mind. You should probably get going, and come back when you're done."

Although you were confused and wanted him to answer your question, you knew staying would end up wasting more time, and instead decided to take your leave, muttering a quick goodbye with an awkward smile.

Before you left, you watched him go back to writing something down on a sheet of paper, and even more curiosity set down in your body.