#some of my tumbled crystals :3

[tiredgn0me]

[revasserium]

A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D

also I love your writing SOO much <3

prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed

49. stolen kisses

zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it

summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given

a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc

one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.

“Good dinner?” he asks.

“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.

“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”

Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.

“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”

His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.

“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”

And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.

He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.

two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.

You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.

But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.

“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.

“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.

A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -

“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”

Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.

“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”

You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.

“So… I'm a report now, am I?”

But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.

“No.”

You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.

“We’re nowhere near finished.”

A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.

“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.

Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.

Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.

“Only in front of you.”

He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.

"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.

"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.

"And… see you at home.”

You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.

three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.

“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.

Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.

“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —

“Do you know what I received the award for?”

You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It’d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.

“N-no — I haven’t —“

“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”

The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.

That ice can also burn.

You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.

“Zayne —“

“I start work at a clinic next week.”

A frown creases at your temple.

“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”

Your frown deepens.

“What do you —“

“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”

At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.

“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.

Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”

“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.

“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”

The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.

“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.

“Hey, look at me.”

You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.

He looks back up with a knowing smile.

“Shall we get something to eat?”

You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!”

Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”

“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”

Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.

“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”

[prettyprettypaci2]

Drool - Part 5

💊 Part 1 💊 Part 2 💊 Part 3 💊 Part 4 💊

"There's no time for that now, honey! We have to get you to your first treatment session. Just go potty in your diaper for now; that's what it's there for."

Your eyes widen in panic. You're unable to stifle a pathetic moan of protest as you gesture frantically at the bathroom with one of your fat, pink mittens. The toilet is right there! Nurse Molly can't expect you to pee in a diaper on purpose!

"NNNNNNNNGH! Eenh oooohn uhn derrrnherrrrr!" You plead in the stupid language of your muzzling pacifier, which punctuates each drooling syllable with an embarrassing squirt onto your white cloth bib.

"Hmm?" Nurse Molly tightens her grip on your mittened wrist and practically drags you out of the bedroom. You stumble while trying to tug in the opposite direction, and your pink jelly sandal squeaks as you go tumbling to the poured linoleum floor of the clinic hallway. "Oh no, honey! You lost your balance again! Between your tinkles in the bed and how messy you got eating lunch, I'm worried that your tics are just the tip of the iceberg."

You snarl as you attempt to stand up, but it's difficult to gain purchase with the slippery mittens against the freshly waxed floor. With a girlish squeal, your arms slide forward before you collapse into a faceplant, your bobbing pink pacifier clicking against the cold ground. The sudden impact vibrates through your teeth, and you bite down hard on the silicone shaft to numb the intense pain.

"Owwwwwwwooowwwwwwwww!" You scream into the pacifier. The muscles around your eyes tighten, milking tears from the wet heat that flushes your grimacing face.

"Oh no! My little circus tumbler! Are you okay?" Nurse Molly stoops and rubs the back of your head as you try -- and fail -- to stop whimpering. You suck and smack your pacifier frantically, and the counter-stimulation soothes the pain in your mouth. Your usual reaction to any discomfort is to bite your lip or scratch your arm, but the thick, rubbery nipple has become the node through which you filter out all negative sensations. For a split-second between sniffles and sobs, you wonder if you even want to stop sucking the pacifier.

As the pain numbs, you become cognizant of your desperation to pee again. You move to make another attempt at standing, but a firm palm on your back keeps you from rising further than your knees.

"I think until the doctor can get her hands on you, we should be careful about overtaxing your motor control. Four limbs is sturdier than two! Why don't we crawl to the office like a puppy dog?"

Despite her use of the inclusive "we," it's clear that Nurse Molly intends for you to crawl while she walks behind. With one last longing look at the toilet, you shuffle forward pathetically on your mittened hands and wobbly knees, announcing your lumbering progress with a parade of crinkles from your fat diaper. Your white cloth bib hangs perpendicular to the floor, barely catching the occasional comet of drool that comes oozing from your nursing lips.

"There you go!" Nurse Molly coos, congratulating you for shuffling down the hallway as though you're accomplishing some feat of strength. "Left! Right! Left! Right! You're an expert!"

Your cheeks burn like hot lamps; you're absolutely humiliated to be seen in this state. But what else are you supposed to do? It's all apart of your treatment...isn't it?

At last, Nurse Molly stops you at the foot of an unassuming white door, gently setting the toe of her low-heeled shoe in front of your left mitten. The plaque below the frosted glass door pane reads:

AMELIA BERCEAU, M.D.

With a twist of the faux crystal knob, Nurse Molly pushes the door open. As mystified as you were by the décor of your bedroom, nothing could have prepared you for the bizarre spectacle of Dr. Amelia's office.

One corner of the room is dominated by what appears to be a mock kitchen; its full-sized stove, sink, and accessories are made of a chunky plastic with pastel colors. Though clearly not functional for actual cooking, the fake stove crackles with a tinny sound that emanates from a cartoonish teapot resting on one of its "burners."

A sandbox shaped like a smiling turtle lies in the shadow of a towering structure made of colorful foam blocks, deliberately cobbled together as a sort of play-fort. Against the opposite wall, a bookshelf gleams with the glossy spines of such titles as "Mr. Badger Makes a Friend" and "101 Animal Noises."

But most surprising of all is that there are people in this room. Two young women sit cross-legged on a carpet patterned to look like a twisting road through a bustling city. They're rolling small cars along its splashy, winding design in a bored stupor. One of the women has short black hair that hangs in her face, and she seems to be wearing some sort of braces on her legs. The other woman has long blonde hair, half of which is done up in a pigtail while the other half hangs loose, as though someone started styling it and then got distracted.

As the blonde looks up at the opening door, you see she's suckling a massive blue pacifier similar to your pink one, and that it's secured to her head with a length of white ribbon. Your eyes meet, and the pretty blonde drops her pink toy convertible to give you a gentle wave. Shivering with humiliation on your hands and knees, you feel the wet heat return to your face, tingle its way down your spine, and then concentrate in your groin. The sensation grows and grows until you realize it isn't just embarrassment at being seen like this...you've started flooding your diaper.

"Nnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggh!" You wail, frozen in place as the hot ocean begins drowning your bum, seeking out every corner of thristy padding to nestle into. Your eyes are wet again as you feel the back of your diaper grow heavy with urine, strengthening the smothering hug of gravity on your quivering bottom.

Nurse Molly ignores your obvious discomfort as she scoots you into the room with a nudge of her heel. The blonde continues to eye you curiously as she suckles her pacifier, while her raven-haired companion simply returns to her childish game.

"Here you go, honey! Meet Daisy and Emma! They're here for treatment, too, just like you! I'll leave you three to get acquainted; it looks like Dr. Amelia is running a little late."

Still reeling from the experience of soaking your diaper, you barely notice the creaking of the door as Nurse Molly leaves the room. Unable to communicate through your pacifier, you're at a complete loss for what to do now.

The blonde, Daisy, reaches over and taps Emma on the shoulder. Emma looks up, only one eye visible through her heavy bangs, appearing to truly notice you for the first time.

"Oh. Hi," she shrugs, sounding neither rude nor enthusiastic. "You must be a biter, too, huh?"

You feel the dampness of your diaper acutely as you now hold both women's attention. With a cautious suckle, you nod your head up and down.

"Well, you won't be anymore," Emma smirks, picking up a plastic dump truck and using it to piston a smaller car several feet in your direction. "Whether you like it or not."

You look down at the little car and then back up at Emma, raising your eyebrow in confusion. Daisy twirls her pigtail nervously as she nurses her blue pacifier.

"Oh, you didn't know? I guess I didn't either, when I checked in," Emma sighs. The dark-haired woman crawls over to you to retrieve her toy, and you become aware of the distinct bulge and crinkle beneath her long shirt. Your eyes shift instinctively to Daisy, who shyly lifts the hem of her dress to confirm your suspicion. Both of these women are diapered!

Your heart begins beating like a hummingbird's wings, and your nervous slurping on your pacifier quickens to a drooly allegro. Emma picks up her toy car and leans in, half-smiling, inches from your face. You can smell baby powder on her skin like a sickly sweet perfume.

"Treatment never ends, pottypants. We're here forever."

💊 Part 6 💊

[ouchmyheart22]

Hii pretty please something with buggy flirting w reader either with or without a body and at first it's just some off handed comment but reader thinks he's so hot so they get a little 😳👉👈 so he flirts with her more and more and gets increasingly suggestive just to see her squirm<3

Absolutely my love - hope this is what you wanted <3

Request for Buggy x Reader (OPLA Buggy the Clown)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warning: mentions of sex.

He leaned against his chair with such ease and nonchalance, his legs spread wide, one hand on his thigh, the other gripping the whiskey glass. His chin was darkened by stubble, his red lipstick was faded, smudging the crystal glass in his gloved hand.

You tried to focus on pouring the next customers drink but it was no use, your eyes kept trailing towards the corner of the bar, where Buggy and his crew had settled for the night.

Settled, they were anything but settled. Rowdy and increasingly loud, your boss seemed to tolerate the pirates for the business.

You hadn’t even spoke to him. Cabaji had ordered a bottle of whiskey for the captain, while Buggy had made himself comfortable at the head of the table. Perfectly in your eyeline, which you couldn’t tell was a good thing or bad thing.

He shrugged off his coat, revealing his toned arms, veins prominent in his forearms, a hazy blue colour under the fluorescents of the bar.. Definitely a bad thing you decided.

You turned away from the Buggy pirates, in an attempt to distract yourself. You tried to focus on drying the glass in your hands, ignoring the sound of laughter from behind you.

They were all intimidating, sure, they were pirates after all, but there was something about the captain that made your mouth dry, your muscles tense up. His air of confidence and familiarity, as he walked into the bar for the first time, commanding the space. Power.

You wondered what is felt like to have that power.

‘A pint of Red Herring and another bottle of Davy Jones whiskey sweetheart’

You’d been listening to his voice all night. Telling stories to his crew about a straw hat pirates and his friends, how he had successfully infiltrated their crew, and defeated Arlong single handed.

It was a husky tone, mischievous and teasing, he seemed to always be biting back a laugh.

You almost dropped the beer glass in your hands as you turned to him, your eyes wide and innocent.

His palms were flush against the bar, his arms stretched, flexing as he bent them to rest on the counter.

Your mouth opened and closed, suddenly full of sand as your tongue refused to form any words.

He grinned, his red lipstick stretching up his cheeks with amusement.

‘Well hello there Bambi’ the words tumbled from his lips before he even thought.

You blinked, not doing much for the impression.

God Buggy thought, you were a nice change. Young and beautiful, radiating the type of innocence someone at sea had long lost. Your doe eyes were big and expressive, he relished the feeling of your gaze on him. Your lips rested in a little pout, pink and plush as you nodded at him in response.

Buggy started to grind his teeth. Your bottom lip would be better suited between his teeth he thought.

You smiled, polite and shy, clearly too nervous to reply to the captain. For fear your voice would betray you, and come out stuttering and broken.

He leaned further onto the bar as you pulled the tap for the red ale, filling a pint for him.

He watched your small hands, grip the beer tap with ease, your fingers wrapped around the handle. God he wondered what those fingers would feel like wrapped around his-‘

‘I’ll just go take the whiskey from the back’

You finally spoke, your voice sickly sweet to him. It was soft, patient even, though he assumed you must have a lot of patience to be dealing with drunkards all day long.

He nodded, grinning at you, his eyes darkened.

‘I’m sure you love taking things from the back sweets’

Your entire face seemed to fill with colour, your cheeks volcanic hot as you stared at the clown. Had you heard that right? Did he actually just say that ? To you?

He laughed, jutting his chin towards to door wordlessly. As if to say go on, go ahead. You give a small nod, fiddling with your hands as you pushing open the storage room with your shoulder.

A breath escapes you, one you didn't know you had been holding.

God you must have looked so dumb. So naive. What must he be thinking of you? He wasn't thinking of you probably, had probably forgotten what you'd looked like by now.

You cursed yourself as you slid open the glass cabinet that held the top shelf spirits, ironically on the bottom shelf, gripping the Davy Jones bottle carefully.

Turning back towards the door, you allowed yourself a deep breath. Your hands were shaking with anxiety, aching from the adrenaline rush. God you were so reactive, too reactive for your liking. Letting on just how inexperienced you were.

If any other man had spoken to you like that you probably would have rolled your eyes, mentally gagging. But it seemed the attention the clown was giving you was making you squirm.

Gripping the door handle, you held the whiskey close to your chest, easing the blush that had spread down your neck. You allowed another deep breath before you pulled the door open with a small tug.

He had appeared at the door like a shadow, blocking the light from the bar outside the small storage room. His hat allowed a small bit of light to peak over the brim, but his entire form was now darkened, his eyes fell on you expectedly.

You resisted the urge to gulp.

‘Need a hand princess?’

He had popped his right hand off, floating towards you, he wigged his finger in front of your nose.

‘I-I got it’ you answered, weakly holding up the whiskey. You looked at the hand, and then at Buggy, who winked, clicking his tongue for emphasis.

He hummed, taking the bottle from your hand with his detached glove. It attached itself back to his forearm with a satisfying thunk.

Licking his lips, he replied.

‘I just got a craving for something sweet’ he decided

You blinked. Catching yourself with wide eyes again, you forced your eyes shut for a second, playing with your apron you responded.

‘Um.. okay' that was all you could get out at first, before your forced your customer service training to kick in 'What would you like?’

His eyes darkened, his chin dropping to stair at you better. He was an attractive man, even with the makeup, even in the dim lighting, even with the nose.

‘I’d like you. On the rocks. With a lemon slice’ his voice was teasing and rough, an interesting combination that sounded so perfect in your ears.

‘But I’ll settle for a cocktail sweetheart’ he finished, his wolfish grin subdued by a satisfied smirk.

You nodded, weakly, you felt like your body was rusted, in desperate need of oiling.

‘Any preference?’ You didn’t stutter this time but your voice was still smaller than usual. You cringed, you sounded pathetic.

‘I’m sure you’d know what I like sweets’ he shrugged, he cocked his head to the side, looking you up and down ‘You seem very attentive’

You nodded.

That was all you seemed to be able to do around him. He seemed amused, highly satisfied he had mustered such a reaction. Like a cat playing with a mouse he'd caught, dragging you back by your tail each time you slipped away.

He turned to allow you to pass him, though remained in the doorway so you could not avoid his gaze.

As you stepped out of the supply cupboard he bent down, his long blue hair swinging from his hat, a smile plastered on his red lips.

‘Not too sweet though, I don’t want to ruin my appetite’

He chomped down on his teeth, making a satisfying click sound, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure again. His eyes seemed to burn holes into your back as you cross the bar, away from him to start the drink.

By the time he had sauntered back to sit in front of you, your hands had stopped shaking and you were cutting lemon.

He watches you make the cocktail like a lion, watching an injured gazelle stumble, his eyes trained on your every move. You meet his eyes once, they're sea green, bold and piercing. He chuckles as you jerk your head back towards the glass.

‘Pretty’ he comments, his gloved hands are spread out on the counter, so much bigger than your own. You've never liked feeling small, but suddenly you feel just fine about it.

‘Hmm?’ Your head pops up from the cocktail glass, the small shot glass still in your hand. Did he just call you-

His lips turn up again, satisfied with your reaction. He holds your gaze, though you desperately hope the clown breaks the eye contact first. Though that seemed unlikely

‘The cocktail’ he allows his gaze to fall to the pink, frothing liquid below you.

Of course he meant the cocktail.

You place the tall tulip glass in front of him, placing the small red flower as garnish, you finally allow your shoulders to loosen.

He looks to you. Then looks at the cocktail. Then back to you.

This time, you are very aware you are holding your breath. Your hands are clasped behind your back, in an attempt to stretch your shoulders.

He takes a long sip, his eyes never leaving yours.

This feels too intimate for the setting, especially when you see Buggy swallow and his adams apple bobs. You think you might go insane, you want to scream at the clown.

‘Taste okay?’ you manage, forcing a small smile as he rests the glass on the counter.

He shrugs, crossing his arms, leaning closer to your side of the bar.

You look disappointed, like a kicked puppy, but only for a second, as you put on a brave face and open your mouth to offer him an alternative.

Buggy grins, wider than he has the whole night. Watching you squirm has certainly granted him with great entertainment, the best show he's watched in a long time.

He grabs the pint and the whiskey bottle, cackling as he turns away from the bar, leaving you bright red and shifting on your feet.

'You look like you'd taste a lot better sweetheart'

[a-d-nox]

what spiritual gift / tool should you be using based on tarot cards

grab your tarot deck! ask it "what spiritual gifts or tools should i be using?" below are some ideas of what the cards you get could mean.

advanced astrology

empress, chariot, star, and/or 9 of swords

astral projection

hermit and/or 4 of swords

crystal ball

2 of wands

crystal tumbling

8 of pentacles

deity work

lovers, devil, and/or judgment

dowsing rods

2 of swords

familiar or spirit animal work

fool, strength, 9 of pentacles, queen of wands, and/or king of wands

herbology

magician, empress, sun, 6 of cups, and/or queen of wands

manifestation

magician, 7 of cups, 9 of cups, ace of pentacles, page of pentacles, ace of wands, and/or 8 of wands

mediumship

judgment, 6 of cups, and/or 10 of pentacles

metaphysical protection

emperor, chariot, hermit, tower, 3 of swords, 4 of swords, 5 of wands, and/or 7 of wands

past life regression

death and/or judgment

poppets

magician and/or 5 of swords

spell work

magician, high priestess, wheel of fortune, temperance, and/or 3 of pentacles

water scrying

star and/or page of cups

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[wol-fica]

hiya i hope this isnt too much to request!!

gp!reader x jenna where she overstimulates the reader and then afterwards some fluff.. aftercare??

<3 thank u

i gotchu :)))

summary - ^

—————————

“Oh…Jenna!” You moaned, your eyes rolling backwards.

You were seated in an arm chair, Jenna in your lap while she rolled her hips on your cock. Her hands grabbed at your shoulders, giving her leverage to rock herself into you while your name tumbled past her lips.

You held her waist, attempting to guide her while she rode you, but your efforts were pointless. She had her mind set on chasing her high, her velvety walls clenching around you as she rocked her hips back and forth.

“Fuck…” You whined, bucking your pelvis up into her when she began grinding down onto you, “I’m…I’m close!”

Jenna hummed, smiling lazily with her eyes closed as she squeezed around your shaft. She was wet, drenched in her own arousal that coated your pulsing cock while she rode you like no tomorrow. One of her hands slid to your jaw, pulling you into a passionate kiss as she inched her knees back.

“Beautiful girl….” She purred before bouncing up and down on your penis, brown iris’ locked with yours as she did.

Your back arched, fingers digging into the fat of her ass while your eyes rolled. Your orgasm hit you hard, the knot in your stomach snapping abruptly as you moaned. Bursts of cum came out of you, pumping into your girlfriend’s pussy while she kept bouncing herself on top of you.

Soon, the pleasure of coming turned into pain from overstimulation as Jenna continued rolling her hips on you. You cried out her name, writhing and trying to push her away with no prevail. She was unrelenting, moaning unapologetically while she chased her high. The coil in her stomach was hot, burning and begging to be undone.

You sat there, tears in your eyes while you let her use you for her own pleasure. She eventually came with a breathy sigh, clenching down hard on your sensitive cock as she came. Her hips lifted, pulling off of you and leaving you covered in a layer of off white cum. Jenna’s hands caressed your cheek, cooing when you whimpered at the aftershocks.

“Oh baby…”She murmured, kissing your forehead, “Are you okay?”

You lean into her, resting your head on her shoulder with a pathetic whine. She giggled, stroking your hair to soothe you while she whispered comforting praises in your ear.

“I’m sorry if I went too far, my love.” She mumbled into your ear, pressing a kiss there, “Do you want some water? A warm bath?”

She moved to get up, but you quickly grasped at her waist and pulled her back against you. You whimpered a quiet “don’t go”, and Jenna felt her heart thump with admiration from your needing to be near her.

“I won’t go anywhere.” She replied, cradling your head into her chest, “I always be here.”

You purred deeply, a smile of contentment on your face as you drifted off into a deep sleep, happy to be in your girl’s arms.

———————

taglist: @crystal-lily-101 @tundra1029 @rainbow-love4ever  @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @simp4thena @thenextdawn @alexkolax @annalestern @efectoangel @fall-08 @andsoigotabutterfly @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @deep-fried-egg @frasersgf @thispussyshouldcomew

[bits-and-babs]

hi, i'm so very sorry for your loss, hope you're okay since it's been a few days since you posted this

could i ask a combo 14 - 16 - 23 with our favorite flyboy poe dameron with a nice and happy ending <3

sending you all my love :))

-ˋˏ 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐊𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 ˎˊ-

— pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: Jealous Poe, Tipsy Poe. Thigh riding, exhibitionism, dirty talk as ALWAYS. Consumption of alcohol. References to sex, 18+, Ya Nasties.

— authors note: Thank you so much for your condolences, I am doing much better now <3 this ask was DELICIOUS to write, I really appreciate the distraction. I don’t know if it’s exactly what you wanted but I started writing and couldn’t stop!

poe dameron masterlist I| main masterlist |I send me an ask

A sour scent of Spotchka permeates the cantina booth you sit in and burns your nose. It's flowing heavily today to celebrate a significant win against the First Order, the liquid soaked into the seats. The implosion of the Star Killer base had been a critical mission success, one that guaranteed The Resistance the opportunity to fight another day.

Morale was high, and General Organa saw no reason to put a stop to the celebrations when everyone was in need of some sort of release.

However, you feel tenser than you did in the sky, blasting tie fighters; muscles primed and ready to spring. Your brain has initiated evasive action, but your body is frozen in place by the oak-brown eyes that settle intensely on your face.

Poe swirls the blue beverage in the tumble glass, creating a miniature whirlpool, not unlike the twisting feeling in your stomach. His gaze, irises obscured by his hooded eyelids, sets sparks across your skin like an ion charge.

He lifts the glass to his lips, taking a swig of the azure liquid and savouring the burn on his tongue. You hear him exhale slowly through his nose despite the din of the bustling Cantina. It's like your senses are honed in on the gold leader, blurring out the background noise.

"So, you and Gold-Twelve, huh?”

Your mouth dries when his eyes lift back to you, a playful spark of something dangerous flitting in his pupils. Had he seen that? The flirty arm that Kori had wrapped around your waist. The squeeze he’d given your hip— the brush of his palm against the curve of your ass.

“H-Huh?”

“Sure seems like he was getting cosy with you, Seven.” His tone is pointed but not vicious. There’s something clipped in his voice- something envious.

“N-No-… No, we’re jus-“

“No?” He asks you, pointing to the bar while maintaining a grip on the crystal glass in his hand, “Could have fooled me, Seven. He seemed ready to take you to his bunk.”

You feel heat flush your face, eyes burning into the ak-wood tabletop. Had it been imported from Tython? The rings and swirls within the grain were pretty, maybe pretty enough to convince Poe you were too distracted to listen to his probing questions-

“Come here.”

Your body betrays you. Startled by his order, your eyes snap up to his face. Poe’s eyebrow is quirked upwards, indicating his unwillingness to wait. He’s radiating this energy, something that makes your insides scream with delight.

“B-But-“

“If you’re not seeing Kori, come here.”

Seeing?! What the kriff did he even mean by that? Did he think you two were sleeping together, because you sure as kark weren’t dating! You stumble like a newborn foal out of your side of the booth, practically floating around the table to reach where he waits expectantly.

You barely slide into the booth when he’s pulling you onto his lap, hands vice-like on your hips as he settles you on his left thigh. A gasp rips itself from your throat, whiny in pitch, when he balances on his toes and grinds the muscle of his against your clit.

He’s gazing up at you, those eyes melting like chocolate when he looks at you through his lashes. Poe reminds you so much of it, rich and sweet and rare. When he parts his lips, your tongue begs to taste them, craving the oxytocin.

“I-“ you stumble; the sweep of his hands up your back in a soothing gesture makes your heart stutter and slam into your throat. “I’mnotdatingKori!”

The induced slur of the admission makes him smile, leaning up ever so slightly to get closer to you. Spotchka hangs heavy on his breath when he exhales a sigh, the tip of his nose brushing against the soft flesh of your cheek when he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Good. That’s good,” he murmurs, his own words dripping together as though all the blue alcohol has hit him all at once. Poe isn’t totally drunk. He needs rivers of Spotchka to get intoxicated, preferring the much stronger Jet-Juice as it was less of a drain on his credits and more of a buzz on his brain.

No, if you knew better, you’d realise that he’s inebriated by you. The feeling of your body on his, the feeling of your cunt grinding on his lap when he drags you forward.

Whimpering, your hands fly out to hold onto the leather shoulders of his jacket. You’re trembling already, the effects of his touch hitting you much harder than even the strongest of alcoholic beverages they served in this shitty cantina. The friction, even through your clothes, settles a twisting feeling in your abdomen when he slides his palms under your ass, grabbing a handful of you and using it as leverage.

“P-Poe-“ you moan out his name, knowing damn well that half of the patrons in the damn bar could look over and see you getting all but fucked by the Black Leader, right hand to General Leia Organa.

“So pretty for me on my lap,” he whispers, eyes engulfed by the blackness of his pupils as he sweeps them over your form as you roll your hips across the length of his muscular thigh. Poe Dameron was well known for being too damn ‘thick’ for his x-wing seat, and you can feel why. “Think you’d look so pretty for me on my cock, baby. Fuck, look at you-“

Stars, you’re gripping the leather of the booth, fingernails scratching the surface beyond repair as you feel a surge pass through you, crackling like force-lightning up your spinal cord and short-fusing your brain.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head at you, lips pulling apart in another Dameron-Dreamy smile as he works his hands between you, belt clicking quietly amongst the loud celebration of drunk revellers. “Pretty baby’s gonna wait until I’ve got a taste of what she looks like all filled up.”

Spotchka and endorphins are flooding your system; you don’t even bother to second-guess the location, the people in the room, the logistics. You just scramble to remove your cargo pants, Poe’s fingers hooking into the waistband and yanking them down just enough to slip you onto his aching dick.

The whole of Yavin 4 learns that you most certainly are not ‘seeing’ Gold-Twelve and that Black Leader Poe Dameron had already staked his claim, much to Kori’s disappointment.

Much to your delight.

END

[delcakoo]

彡 catch me! ❅*⋆ y.jw

requested for my 1k event!

SUMMARY ! seperated from your friend on a ski trip, you had just begun your mission to find him when a cute blue haired boy runs right into you, resulting in the both of you colliding and tumbling down the mountain together. one, slight problem: you have no idea how to ski.

PAIRING ! jungwon x f!reader

GENRE ! skiing au, pure fluff

WC ! 1.3k

WARNINGS ! none just you being a terrible skier <3

a/n: thank you again for the request dear, i loved writing this sm pls, writing for wonnie makes me so happy T-T

yesterday, you fell for a terrible, cruel lie.

kim sunoo; your best friend, your supposed dumb to your dumber, the boy you thought was a gentle, trustworthy soul, has abandoned you atop a mountain.

“c’mon y/n, i’ve wanted to go skiing for months, and it’s finally snowing!” he had begged, swaying you back and forth by the shoulders. “i’ll stick with you the whole time, i promise.”

well, you wish you could tell your past self to take that promise of his, crumple it up, and slam dunk it into the nearest garbage can.

where was kim sunoo? oh how you’d love to know. you probably resembled a lost penguin without it’s rookery, cluelessly scanning the crowd of skiers for his bright green puffer coat.

“yah, kim sunoo!” you pant, trying to shuffle your way around the snow even with skis on your feet, “as soon as i find you, you’re dead meat!”

the fellow skiers surrounding you offer you strange glances, but you pay them no mind. it shouldn’t be this hard to find a decently short, pink haired boy on a mountain decked in white crystal, yet a task has never seemed harder at this moment.

as you’re about to call out for your friend again, you look down, realising you’re getting a bit too close to the mountain’s edge for comfort. the giant hill is already full of talented skiers racing their way to the bottom, professionally gliding back and forth with the help of their poles. you shudder at the thought of trying to follow their movements, already imagining yourself with a few broken limbs by the time you’d reach the ground.

with that thought, you quickly turn away from the slope, beginning your attempt to gain some distance. though suddenly, the sound of a few male voices getting closer makes you raise your head once more. “race you to the ground!” one boy with blue hair says, sliding hastily ahead of his friend.

“oh, it’s on. i’ll be waiting for you at the bottom, jungwonnie!” the other replies snarkily, pushing down his snow goggles and heading right towards— oh shit.

your eyes widen, realising the boys are obliviously heading straight your way, sliding on either side of you. “uh! excuse me!” you alert desperately. if it weren’t for the damned ski’s on your feet, you would easily be able to move out of the way by now.

your heart beats faster and faster as they approach, letting out a worried yelp. finally, one of the boy’s notices you through his blurred goggles, turning out of the way. “hey, girl! watch out!”

the other boy, or jungwon, however, despite hearing his friend's words, was too late to stop himself due to the fact he was already much too close paired with the hill’s gravity propelling him right your way. both of you let out strangled screams as you collide, nearly falling over as you instinctively grab onto each other’s middle’s in an attempt to stabilise your ski’s.

“hold on!” the boy yells, gently gripping your waist and spinning your body to face forward just as the both of you begin sliding down the hill at a breaknecking speed. the chilly air surrounds you cruelly, adrenaline racing through your veins as you both fly down the hill. jungwon seems to be a much better skier than you, expertly angling his skis into a cross position to slow himself down.

however, his efforts don’t do much as you continue to drag him down with you, flailing around like a fish out of water. “i’m gonna die!” you tell him, practically cutting off the blood in his arm from how tight you’re grasping it. his friend is long ahead, too far gone to try and get back to the both of you.

the hill feels never ending, the bottom undetectable through the constant snow falling in front of you. “no you’re not,” jungwon insists, allowing you to hold his arm despite the uncomfortableness on his end. “you need to cross your ski’s, it’s the only way to slow us down!” his voice is just audible over the boisterous winds.

barely aware of your own surroundings, you somehow manage to process his words, gazing down at his ski’s, then your own. you try to copy him, awkwardly turning your feet inwards. shockingly, it immediately works, the both of you already easing down at a much slower rate.

“that’s it, just like that!” you look up just in time to see your new companion’s face turn into an adorable, proud smile.

wait a minute. through all the chaos, you’d failed to notice how cute this jungwon boy was. his silky blue bangs slightly covered his cat-like eyes, the tips glazed with fallen flakes of snow. you felt your heart ache at his gummy smile, watching in adoration as his red nose wrinkles happily. for a moment, you forgot that you were in the middle of skiing down a mountain, much too busy admiring the handsome boy next to you.

“look, we’re almost there!” he points out, using the arm that wasn’t being strangled by you to wave at the slowly visible hill’s bottom.

“we-we are?” you gasp, “oh my god, we are!” the excitement in your voice was evident, a huge grin growing on your face to match his. as you get closer, jungwon finally wriggles free from your grip on his arm, instead pulling your hand tightly into his, gloved fingers lacing together softly. you feel your cheeks begin to burn at the affection, praying it just looks like the effects of the cold weather.

it isn’t much longer before the both of you finally come to a stop on flat ground, instantly releasing huge exhales of relief. you pout when jungwon untangles his hand from yours to adjust his jacket, looking down at you with a teasing raise of his brow. “soo..” he begins, chuckling lightly.

“so,” you copy.

“i’m guessing you don’t ski much?”

you burst into laughter, shaking your head in disbelief of the situation. “nope, only here because a certain someone forced me to join him.” you barely notice the way jungwon’s expression changes at the use of ‘him’. “though as you might’ve noticed, he ditched me.”

jungwon nods, fidgeting with his gloves. “ah, i can help you find your boyfriend then, if you want?”

you choke in surprise, quickly raising your hands to reassure the boy. “oh no. me and sunoo? no way, he’s just my friend.”

“oh, that’s good.” both of your eyes quickly widen at his words, and you watch amusedly as jungwon quickly tries to cover his slip up. “uh- i meant i- it’s good that you’re um, not here alone!”

your shoulders tremble with laughter, watching the cute boy’s cheeks turn an apple red in embarrassment. “well then, until i find my friend, want to.. give me some lessons?” you entreat (not because you ever want to ski again, but because you’d do anything to spend more time with jungwon), gesturing to your ski’s hopefully.

his big eyes grow even more at your suggestion, blue hair bouncing as he nods excitedly. “i’d love to! i’m not a professional myself, though.” after patting his gloves against his jacket, the blue haired boy offers his hand out to you again with a smile, eagerly pulling you over to the ski lift.

jungwon doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he’s ditched his friend similar to how sunoo ditched you, much too preoccupied admiring your rosy cheeks and cute nose scrunch every time he made you laugh.

“it’s fine, as long as you’re prepared to catch me when i inevitably fall over.”

with a cheesy grin, he pulls you closer. “don’t worry, i’ll always be ready to catch you.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always appreciated and motivating!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr @lov3niki @yujiecho

[poetthewriter]

🔮Carnelian Trinkets🗝️

Vex!Scar x Reader

thank you to my 🪶feather anon for requesting this I'm sorry I accidentally deleted you're request but from what a remember you said you wanted a vex!Scar x reader where scar likes to give reader trinkets and little gifts because of his vex side! please enjoy and feel free to leave tips (p.s im not so proud of this story but I hope at least you guy like it<3)

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐬&𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬🌱🧄🌿

Scar had decided to go on a little adventure as he liked to call it but in Y/ns case it meant being left alone for a few days, it not like Y/n couldn't be by their self or that they constantly needed to be with Scar but tonight Y/n will be all alone with no date for the party.

A small gathering happens every so often in Hermitcraft where all the hermits get together and have a nice evening with drinks and treats for all, even though there's so many members as well as a few guests coming from their empires it feels right to give everyone a little thank you gift. pulling out tiny little boxes Y/n walks out of their house and into the mines, after hours and hours of mining and polishing a scatter of crystals lay on a table, from ruby to agate there is a set of handpicked personalized crystals for every guest.

Gold or silver, crown, necklace, bracelet, or ring, smooth or pointy. hundreds of decisions lay in front of Y/n but at the end of the day around 40 sets of jewelry are set in boxes to be given to the person there for.

Amber ear cuffs for Impulse, aquamarine and pink coral tiara for Queen Lizzie of the Ocean empire, golden peridot anklets for the one and only fae girl Gem, and a jasper pendent like amulet for the prince of the lost empire Joey.

The only thing that catches Y/ns eye is a carnelian ring with a engraving inside saying " I Love You, Dear " a little bit of disappointment hits them as they remember Scars absents but all they do is close the box and throw it in the basket.

________

The stars shine brightly around Scar as he walks down the paths of the Ender capital, people pass scar left and right from Endermen hybrids to Nether hybrids hes surrounded, some people stare at him and his vex features uncomfortably as others pass and don't bat an eye.

Markets and stalls are set up everywhere going from one to another nothings right, some potions and magical seeds end up in scars inventory but there's something hes looking for that he just cant figure out what it is until a small sparky shine catches his eye.

A flow of magic wisps through the air pulling scar in all he wanted was something personal to give Y/n so all he can do is hope this light can lead him to the perfect thing, slowly he steps over to the shine and a small chest of colorful crystals, rare buttons, and mini empty bottles sits Infront of him his eyes light up and his wings flutter at the big and small trinkets to give his partner.

walking back to the portal to the over world, end flowers, and little pieces of shiny metal litter the ground, more and more bobbles clutter into scar bag and cut his hand and he picks up sharp pieces. reaching into a different pocket for a bandage Scar communicator tumbles out of his bag a bright yellow message takes up the whole screen leaving his face shocked.

"GATHERING AT NINE HOPE TO SEE YOU SOON!"

---

Y/n stands there looking in the mirror at their fancy attire, their shoes click as they walk across their house grabbing the big basket full of little gift boxes, a load knock echos through their house slowly but surely Y/n walks the open the door but when they get their someone is already their waiting for them.

"SCAR!"

Y/n runs up the him, he pulls them into a soft hug slowly lowering to the ground.

"oh my god.. I am so sorry, I totally forgot about the party tonight I never meant to do that Y/n, I missed you so so much"

a small kiss opens Scars eyes Y/n just sits there with a goofy smile on their face as they tug on his arm standing up, Y/n yanks Scar to the table they rummage through the big weaved basket and pull out one box slowly opening it they hide it in there hands and slowly slide it on to scars ring finger, he looks at it for a few moments before Y/n asks him a question.

"Do you like it!" they say swinging side to side in excitement, Scar looks up at them and lifts them up with a huge smile on his face, giddy as heck he pulls Y/n in to a seat.

"I LOVE IT!! LOOK LOOK I HAVE STUFF FOR YOU AS WELL, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT" Scar pulls out the big box of little knobs and treats, if he was a dog his big golden retriever tail would be shaking faster then lightning and all Y/n could do is match his energy the trinkets doesn’t matter anymore as much as Y/n loved their partners little gift they were just exited to be with him.

Walking to the party scar runs off like a little child to grab sparkly nicknacks and give them back to Y/n and they just swing their basket excitedly like little red riding hood.

The vex boy rests at his lovers side as they enter the party with everyone. The night was long but the energy never died gifts were given, hugs were shared and the night ended of with cuddles in their warm comfy bed.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PRELIMINARY ROUND - THE LEGEND OF ZELDA - ZELDA

PROPAGANDA

Tetra (The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker)

1.) Wind Waker actually has a point with its misogyny and kinda condemns the misogyny. We first see Tetra as a helpless girl in the clutches of a giant bird monster. A pirate ship catapults a boulder at the bird, which drops Tetra on the hero's home island. We find out that young Tetra is the rough-and-tumble captain of an entire pirate crew, and the brains of the outfit. We later learn that bird monster has been kidnapping a bunch of girls to find the reincarnation of the legendary Princess Zelda. It is revealed that Tetra is the next Princess Zelda. Because she is Zelda, she transforms from a tanned pirate captain into a pale princess in a dress, and her role requires her to wait in a castle for the hero to finish his quest. Which is what she does. And the point of the story is that this is wrong! The villain is wrong, and the hero's mentor is wrong—they're both hurting children and forcing them to reenact old roles in an old story, in their selfish quest to resurrect their long-dead kingdoms. Then breaking tradition, (I believe) Wind Waker Zelda is the first Zelda to wield the sacred Light Arrows and to take up an active combat role in the final battle. The happy ending is that Zelda turns back into Tetra, and she and Link set out to forge their own future. BUT THEN. The cheap sequel Phantom Hourglass (the equivalent of a direct-to-DVD Disney movie sequel tbh) pretty much opens with Tetra being turned into a stone statue. And she's a stone statue for the ENTIRE GAME until the hero rescures her. Clear-cut sidelining of a compelling female character, smells like misogyny to me. At least Tetra's identical granddaughter was a playable co-protagonist in the next sequel, but arguably Tetra founding a new monarchal country named the same as the ancient one and then actively continuing the tradition of making Princesses Zelda undermines the conclusion of Wind Waker. Tetra possibly has the most personality and most meaningful role out of all the Zeldas, and she's far from the biggest victim of misogyny here—but still, let's remember that even Tetra deserved better than she got.

2.) Was built up as a super-cool pirate leader antihero who helped out Link. Then, as soon as it's revealed that she's that era's incarnation of Zelda, she gets magically put in the standard Princess Zelda dress (which also makes her skin lighter for Some Reason), and she ends up being sequestered in a basement for her safety until the finale, where she actually gets to do something again.

3.) Idk if anyones talked about windwakers sequel game, phantom hourglass yet so i will. Dont go into ph expecting a lot of cool pirate zelda action because shes a statue for like most of it. Shes a statue and you have to go save her.

Zelda (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and The Legend of Zelda: Tears of

1.) Oh my god. Oh my goooooooood. She was like. Ok in botw (I don't know). But then in totk, they COULD have had her take a more active role, especially with her whole sage of time thing and the era she was in not having a "hero", but NO. She barely did anything, and then in the end she ended up sacrificing herself (at least turning into a dragon is new. Like I don't really have a problem with the dragon thing but man they dropped the fucking ball with everything else). Like one of the creators literally stated that Zelda HAD to be the damsel in distress (rescue her from a crystal, a castle, whatever) and yeah, they definitely continued that in totk. Please just give a mainline Zelda a sword or an active (fighting) role in the game I am BEGGING YOU. Damsels in distress aren't cool, especially when you hype them up to be super powerful!!! She fucking deleted the Calamity from existence in botw you could have done SOMETHING

2.) WHY CANT I EVER HAVE A MAINLINE ZELDA GAME AAAA

I hope someone else gives good propogands but this is specifically about Tears of the Kingdom. So before it came out, I tried to avoid anything and everything about the game so I could go in 100% blind but I did see a few images of course because internet people don’t tag or algorithms lol but the point it looked like Zelda was the protagonist or at least a swap where they’re both playable choices and you can swap between them because she and link looked so alike and I was so happy to play her and was like as much as I like link free my girl from never ending Princess saving needing and it was happening!!

It did not happen and she was again lost and felt like a repeat of the last game where I need to save her (not exactly the same but COMEON)

3.) forced to be a magic sealing princess when she wants to do science and build robots

[bowieandqueen11]

Dating Frenchie Would Include...

Request: Hi, May I please request some headcanons of what dating Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death) would include, please? Thank you so much!! 🖤

Of course my darling, here you go!!

Warning: a little strong language! Also I wrote this at 3 a.m. so it may be unintelligible 🏳️‍🌈

(I do not own OFMD or any of its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @crucifiix.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Lmao love a bit of fanfiction about Frenchie big fan

You are 100% the only other crew member, or the only other anybody in fact, that Frenchie allows into his room. Far too many times have you been caught sitting side saddled over Frenchie’s lap by Wee John Feeney, stroking the bottom of his beard and giggling as the two of you bump foreheads and continue talking shit about the newly crowned ‘Dizzy Izzy’ (during a rough patch in the storm that had raged earlier that night, he had accidentally tumbled after a large pitch into Lucius’ lap, and by golly was he not letting anyone forget about it.) Wee John just sighs, walking straight back out and letting the door slam shut; the last thing you can hear as you try to stifle your laugh against the side of Frenchie’s neck is him calling you ‘the weirdest eejits’ he’s ever met. Neither of you are really paying attention though: your lips managed to accidentally rub against the tip of Frenchie’s collar bone, one of his more ticklish points, and the man was too busy apologising and trying to give you a hand up after accidentally flinging you to the floor.

After a lot of coaxing, a lot of fake pouting, and a lot of pecking forehead kisses to try and convince him round to the idea, he does eventually get used to the idea of you sleeping over as well! I feel like Frenchie is definitely a ‘leg over you like a mossy log that’s been stuck in a marshy bog for hundreds of years and hasn’t moved an inch in that entire time’ kind of sleeper. Like, the man is so tall that on your single shared bed you’re lying properly on it as the bottom layer, and then Frenchie is playing a game of Tetris with his limbs over you during the night. Usually it ends up with his head dipped down and tucked up all neat and cosy against the side of your cheek, his snores resonating loudly enough through the walls of the ship that they could have invented the foghorn right there and then, and his left leg splayed completely over your midriff.

If you get too uncomfortable and give him a shove he will eventually roll over and curl up like an armadillo so you can spoon him though. That is, if one of you hasn’t managed to shove the other out of the bed first - it’s a common occurrence for Wee John to wake Frenchie up from where he’s half lying under the bed, but even though he’s got aching shoulders from spending half the night rolling about the wood he’s still all smiles and doe eyes at you when he sees you’re awake too. Like a Jack in the box, he pops up over the side of the bed with a smile bright enough to make even the crystal dawn of the sea pale by comparison, and presses a kiss against the tip of your nose before skipping off. He’s so sweet your honour I actually cannot with this man.

Sometimes he likes to talk before the two of you fall asleep. Before he’s splayed out like a starfish, the two of you lie in the cot side by side and just fiddle with each other’s fingers on the pillow. Noses close enough to rub against each other if you dared to move a hare and legs pulled up in a half-sit so they can rest familiarly against each other, Frenchie relishes and relaxes in the knowledge that there’s someone on this ship that will know his story. That there’s someone left in the world that’s even willing to hear it, to care about him, and not just what he can do for them. There’s a poignant wistfulness to the air, to his words, so much so that from time to time he can’t even meet your eye. He still always flashes you that shy, optimistic smile from time to time, but you can see the past in the wrinkles of his face every time he uncomfortably starts to recoil when you press your palm to his cheek.

Not going to lie, he may not be a visual artist to rival the mastery of Lucius, but you can bet your sandy ass that Frenchie has pinned up the walls some doodles he’s drawn of you in his spare time, with parchment that he tore out and ‘borrowed’ from Stede’s diary. When Stede collected the crew on the deck a few days later and had a ‘team meeting’ about why stealing was wrong, Frenchie gave a very convincing shrug and ‘it wasn’t me’ frown when Stede asked who had taken the paper. I mean, he was always bound to find out, and when he did stumble into Frenchie and Wee John’s room the next afternoon to borrow his lute (he was planning to write a song for Blackbeard to convince him he was more of a catch than Calico Jack don’t even ask), he only smiled fondly and shut the door when he spotted what his diary had been used for. (And secretly hoped that Ed wouldn’t find his own doodles of him in said diary lmao.)

Oooh, can you imagine how lovely it would be to stumble through Stede’s secret tunnel and to go sit out by unicorn figurehead with Frenchie?? Just the two of you, feet swinging together through the planks, the swirling pockets of silver dancing over the warm tides and the comforting buzz of Frenchie’s voice as he sings for you. With your head resting on his shoulder, you’re too busy falling into a blissful oblivion to even notice that Frenchie’s stopped picking at the strings of his lute, and has instead set it down at his side. He’s found that a much better use of his time would be staring at you, so obviously, so fondly, so sweetly: as if dewdrops hung from his lips, ready for the northern dawn that only your splendour could bring.

Getting to tie that cute little cravat around his neck before the five of you jump ship to go to that fancy dinner party. Every time you try to loop the end of it back through he chases your fingers (to try and kiss them or bite them, you’re not entirely sure), but it does make the two of you burst out into another fit of giggles.

Although he has quite a sweet disposition, Frenchie is 100% ready to throw hands for you. The whole time he’s trying to crank up Oluwande’s ‘pyramid scheme’, he has one eye on the valuables being handed over and one trained solely on you. If any of the esteemed and highly respectable guests become a little too eager, coltish, agitated, Frenchie is straight on it. Before you can even knock their wig off, he’s grabbed your wrist and pulled you either behind his back or dragged you out to the hull with the sternest expression you’ve ever seen on his face. Either way, he’ll always put himself in the firing line of harm’s way first, if it means protecting you.

The two of you spend about 70% of your time singing together on deck. Frenchie’s jamming along with his lute, and you’re animatedly singing and dancing around him, often roping in Lucius to come do full body jigs or a ridiculing minuet Frenchie’s intensifying sea shanties. Since the three of you were supposed to be finishing Izzy’s order to mop the deck, he’s sitting cross legged on the helm behind your spinning bodies, with enough steam coming out of his crimson ears to drown the sky in thunderclouds.

During crew meetings he’ll just straight up wander in late and just... come up behind you and plop his chin down on top of your head. He won’t listen to a word of what’s going on either: too busy chatting with you, or with Jim, or fiddling with the rings on your fingers, or just trying to figure out if the stain on the ceiling looks more like an orange or a fish. To be honest he didn’t even realise it was a meeting until Stede asked him if he was paying attention - he just saw you and immediately came to seek out your heat (and also your hugs).

His love language is doing and making things with his hands, so instead of doing actual work to help out on the Revenge, he tries to craft for you. He sits by the mast, cross legged, and with his tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth in the uttermost form of concentration. He’s trying to remember how his ma taught him to thread a needle, so desperate to fix up your shirt properly after Spanish Jackie nearly tore the sleeve to shreds during your first meeting at the Republic of Pirates. Of course, you’ll eventually have to free him from where he’s managed to sew his shirt to his jacket (very well, might I add). He smiles all the while, leaning down to gently kiss your knuckles every time they bump up high enough with a new thread of the string to be within his reaching distance.

He likes to steal Wee John’s old hammock - he’s a big fan of having snuggled up naps on deck while Ed and Stede have stopped off at some new island and are busy off smooching on their foliage walks. 

Or, he likes to venture out sometimes too and see someplace new with the love of his life! Usually it’s just some slightly different variation of a beach, but this just allows him ample opportunity to perform his favourite activity: scooping up wet sand and hurling at you in a mock sand-ball fight. The two of you fly across the streaking honey-gold boughs of the winding branches of the strip, Frenchie rolling his trousers up and finally catching up to you between the torn crags and cliff edges. He jumps, flying full sail through the air until he’s knocked both of you to the ground. He tries to be all romantic and pretend he hasn’t just knocked the ever loving wind out of you. He leans over you, crawling his knees up between your thighs and slowly dipping down to kiss you, before getting bashed up the face by a huge tide and falling ass over teakettle backwards in sweet revenge lmao.

[orrianreaper]

ooooh do you have some screenshots of vigandi? can you tell me more about her?

I had to go grab a new picture of Vigandi real quick, because I don't play her all that much (I've never clicked too well with Ranger), But! Vigandi is one of my alternate commanders, covering my Norn spot, and she's a soulbeast!

She's a jovial giant, always cracking jokes and doing her best to keep the tone light, confident, and optmistic. She grew up a communally raised orphan in Cragstead, after her hunter parents were killed on a trip that got them caught in a snowstorm. As a result, Vigandi and Braham knew one another growing up, even if Vigandi was a fair bit older than him. She's essentially his Older Sister, she even helped teach him how to use a bow. Vigandi joined the Priory, in the belief whilst she's a good hunter she cannot hunt what she doesn't know, and the Priory would help her learn about the elder dragons. Despite what a lot of people expect of her rough and tumble attitude, she's a massive font of knowledge concerning Tyria's history. She more than did her reading, and knows a lot. She loves a good fight though, takes absolute joy in sparring matches and cackles like a hyena when someone finally gets in a good punch, preferring to fight in her Spirit' 's Form. Speaking of Hyenas;

She's also the first Havroun of Hyena - a spirit of the wild from the crystal desert. When Balthazar scorches her loyal eagle to goad her into a fight, Vigandi is revived by Hyena who askes her to be her Havroun. Vigandi agrees. Hyena is a spirit of scrappy underdogs, of stubbornness and protecting your pack, and of good, if fierce, humour. Vigandi ends up with a little pack of Hyena followers when she shares about the spirit once she returns to the shiverpeaks. She also gets a new a bird companion in the form of a giant vulture, but she does keep some feathers of her old friend.

That's not quite everything but, hopefully this was interesting! Thank you so much for asking about her!! <3

[random-mailbox]

Random-Mailbox's Favorite Sailor Moon Fics - Week 52 - Crystal Tokyo

Welcome to the final regularly planned post in this series, I felt would be fitting to end with Crystal Tokyo. I have a few more lists I'd like to make in the future, but I'm holding off on a couple of them until a few unfinished stories are completed. The lists wouldn't be the same without them. I really want to give credit to @floraone for suggesting this project in the first place. It has been so much fun for me to highlight a lot of amazing works in this fandom and I'm hoping it's helped bring new readers to these stories. Thank you to all of you for coming on this adventure with me! 

As always, my apologies in advance for spoiling some of these for you (Fic Titles are linked to either FFN or AO3 entries).

Royal Affairs - @master-ray5

When I first added this series to the list, it was a single one-shot. It has since grown to 7 connected chapters with plans for a full 20. Super fun and lemony read!

Come Back to Me - @idesofnovember

In this one-shot King Endymion is making impossible possible in his darkest hour, serving as a ray of hope for Usagi. 

Desperate Measures - @idesofnovember

Endymion comes up with a plan to get Neo Queen Serenity to forgive "him", as memories of things he "said and did" during break-up arc flood in.

Sleepless Nights - ElvisVF101

Kunzite helps King Endymion through an existential crisis, when he finds him alone on the balcony late at night.

“My Sister, the Queen” - @sailor-scribbles

This was one of the first stories I have ever read in this fandom and one of the few that deals with Shingo in Crystal Tokyo and his adjustment to the new family status. And it has adorable art!

These Games We Play: Chapter 10: Prank Gone Wrong - @allyunabridged

I saved this furniture-related ficlet for this post because I thought it was hilarious. While searching the attic for old toys, Minako discovers a rose chair that she feels HAS to be in Endymion's office instead.

Miscellaneous Works: Short Stories That Tumbled From Tumblr: Chapter 5: The King's New Clothes - @floraone and art by @nari20

There had to be a reason for King Endymion to start dressing in a lavender tuxedo with a cape, Mamoru always knew that. But what was the motive behind this decision?

Usamamo One-Word Prompts: Chapter 4: sweet - @smokingbomber

Ficlet about choices that had to be made and consequences of these decisions. And love. Mostly about love.

Cupcakes - @midnightdrops

Even the royal couple needs a day off on occasion. Especially when there is a promise of cupcakes involved.

UsaMamo 2022 | Book - @lilliebellfanfics

Neo Queen Serenity is very much out of patience waiting for King Endymion to finish his research at the library. And with them being now alone, what is there to do? 🤔🍋

A Royal Audience - @daikon1

Latest addition to the series, fresh from @usamamoweek2023. Neo Queen Serenity uses personal history to help usher in sweeping education reforms.

---

Here are the links to the previous Tumblr posts in these series to explore more amazing works based on different themes - make sure to check them out if you haven't had a chance! (Click on the title name to go to the post):

Week 1 - Groundhog Day

Week 2 - Established Relationships

Week 3 - Sex Positivity

Week 4 - Unfinished Stories

Week 5 - Darker Stories

Week 6 - Potions 🧪

Week 7 - Reveals

Week 8 - 👻Halloween🎃

Week 9 - Wrong Perceptions

Week 10 - Non-Senshi AU

Week 11 - In-Progress Fics

Week 12 - Mutual Pining

Week 13 - Enemies to Lovers

Week 14 - Slow Burn

Week 15 - Christmas Part 1 - Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Santa!

Week 16 - Christmas Part 2

Week 17 - New Years

Week 18 - High School AU

Week 19 - Slice of Life

Week 20 - Coffee shop AU

Week 21 - Huddle for Warmth

Week 22 - Friends to Lovers

Week 23 - ❤️Valentines Day❤️

Week 24 - Do a Grouch a Favour Day (or Cheer Up Fics)

Week 25 - Soulmate AU

Week 26 - Amnesia Fics (and resources)

Week 27 - 🍀St Patrick's Day🍀

Week 28 - Fix it Fics

Week 29 - Prompt: Mug

Week 30 - Flowers

Week 31 - Traditions

Week 32 - Dreams

Week 33 - Friends

Week 34 - Body-Swap

Week 35 - Medical Assistance

Week 36 - Sex Pollen

Week 37 - Psychometry

Week 38 - What If

Week 39 - Missing Scenes Part I

Week 40 - Green Jacket

Week 41 - Dr Chiba

Week 42 - Birthdays

Week 43 - Fluff

Week 44 - First Kiss

Week 45 - Reviving Shitennou

Week 46 - Tutoring

Week 47 - Thunderstorms

Week 48 - Food

Week 49 - Proposals

Week 50 - Locked In

Week 51 - Furniture

[bekkathyst]

Sometimes it really hits me how much has happened since I’ve been on this website and have had my little shop. Idk if it’s nostalgia or just procrastination of my current to-do list but I feel like writing out a little synopsis of what’s happened over the years lol. Also for any new followers, you can catch up haha

Also there will be some vague mentions of rough/traumatic circumstances, so just a warning!

I opened my first tumblr account when I was still in high school in like 2009 because all my friends were on here. I had like a fashion blog at one point, a recipe blog at another, but eventually I settled into my little witchy nature crystal niche where I felt the most at home.

In 2013 I was living in a horrible studio apartment in central Los Angeles with my now husband Antonio and we were living in poverty. He was being paid under the table below minimum wage and I was an unemployed high school dropout. I was struggling to find any kind of job and I also knew that it would be impossible for me to keep one because of how I am. (Which at the time I didn’t realize was the result of neurodivergence and a lot of trauma). I was just happy to be away from the abusive home I grew up in and I was really determined to make things work somehow, as impossible as it seemed. Eventually I decided I needed to just work for myself. A job wasn’t going to fix anything for me, and where I was wasn’t safe for me to be walking to and from a job anyway. I dealt with a lot of harassment every time I left my apartment so I pretty much became a hermit for the years I lived there.

One weekend with $10 from our grocery budget I went to a little shop that sold tumbled stones on the Redondo Beach pier and decided to buy a couple and some wire and make some pendants. I also had quite a few stones from my collection from childhood and I used those, too. And I opened my first Etsy shop! I honestly cringe when I look back at pictures of my work from this time, I’d really like to think I’ve come a long way lol.

It took several months to get a single sale and at least a year before I had any kind of consistency. For the next couple of years I worked on my little shop while Antonio went to work. In 2015 we decided that my shop was making just enough for us to work on it together and move somewhere else. So we ended up finding a mobile home for rent on some lady’s horse ranch in the mountains of unincorporated riverside county and we moved there.

We planned to stay for quite a while, but before even a year had passed, life drastically changed again. In early 2016 my little sisters came forward about the abuse they were facing and our father was arrested and a years long criminal court case began. Because my mother was undocumented and had spent the last 20 years pretty much just hiding at home, all their care fell on me. We took in my mom and my 3 sisters and had to move. We found another manufactured home in the same area and we all moved in together. I was truly not financially or emotionally prepared for this and it was extremely difficult. On top of that we were all very traumatized. I had not yet been open about the abuse I had faced because I wasn’t ready.

Amid that struggle is when my mom decided to start working with us as well! And she helped us grow our shop some more until we were a little more stable. Eventually we realized we had to find a bigger home and in 2017 I finally got to realize my goal of living in the big mountains and we found a lovely big house in Big Bear.

Actually during this time I have gaps in my memory so there are some things I start to mix up, but shortly after we moved I also decided to come forward about the abuse I faced which unfortunately further complicated the court case. We were looking at a trial date in 2018 which would eventually get pushed to 2019. But during 2018 my niece was born and I also ended up taking in one of my half brothers as well. So our household was now 9 people that were all surviving off of my shop’s income. Also during this time (I think it was actually 2017) we had been talking to one of our suppliers about taking over their wholesale warehouse near Los Angeles. It was presented as a huge business opportunity and I saw it as a chance to better things for us and hopefully ease the struggle. Taking this opportunity actually did the exact opposite. We were quite honestly deceived and ended up being straddled with a failing business. I lived 2017, 2018 and most of 2019 in a haze. Like I mentioned, I really don’t remember much and sometimes I see posts I made during that time and I’m really surprised by them. I think it was just the combination of extreme stress, burn out, sleep deprivation from trying to run 2 businesses and taking care of a massive household, and the trauma of having to recall all these repressed memories from my childhood.

But, somehow I survived. The plus side of coming forward about my abuse is that it gave me access to free therapy and I ended up finding the most incredible therapist that helped me start my healing and recovery from burnout.

Eventually in early 2019 our court case happened and we all testified in front of a jury, and our father was found guilty and is now serving a 300 year plus sentence. It took me the rest of that year to come out of the haze I’d been living in. After the court case, I decided to take the leap and open our brick and mortar shop in Big Bear. It was the thing I actually wanted to do with all my heart.

Then… 2020 came around. Covid hit and it was the final nail in the coffin for our warehouse business. We closed it and gave up. My other half sibling that was working at the warehouse ended up moving in with us as well and so did a friend of mine, so at this point our household was at 11 or so people and we were beginning a pandemic. I had also found out that I was pregnant.

Finding out I was pregnant caused the biggest flip of a switch in my brain. I knew I couldn’t keep living the way I was living anymore. I couldn’t keep burning myself out and over extending myself to people. I had to put up some kind of boundaries and create a healthier environment. With the help of my amazing therapist supporting me, I made this a reality. It’s also when I finally decided that as soon as we could, we’d be moving to Austria, the country my mother was from, where I had also lived as a young child. I knew I had to make life better, I knew I had to release all of this chaos.

In early 2021, still of course in the middle of a pandemic, our landlord said he wanted to sell our house so we needed to move out and he would not be renewing our lease. This was right when the housing shortage really started to hit our area. I had an infant daughter and all these people in my care and I was very scared. By some miracle we found a listing for a house in the high desert, about a half hour away from our brick and mortar shop and we went for it. We knew we had no other options. At this point most of my household went their own ways and found their footing. So me, Antonio, our infant daughter, my mom, my youngest sister, and my toddler niece all moved to this house in the desert. I knew that this was temporary and I told myself I would not be here for longer than a year. Once our year lease was up, we’d make it to Austria.

It was a lot of work and honestly I probably could have made some smarter choices now that I look back, but early 2022 we sold all our inventory from our brick and mortar shop to a wholesaler and closed it up. And then we moved!

And now here we are, a continent away from where we started. Much happier, much healthier. Now we’re not selling nearly on the scale as we were before, but I know that with time we’ll be back to the level we were at. And I really hope to open a brick and mortar store somewhere in Austria sometime soon.

It really amazes me that some of you have been here from the beginning. It feels like several lifetimes have passed, but it also feels like it all happened in the blink of an eye.

I’m really so thankful for the opportunity I had to grow and learn so much and heal. I feel like I’m a completely different person than the desperate girl who started an Etsy shop in 2013.

And… this is just the tip of the iceberg. There’s still so much more that happened. When I first started seeing my therapist she encouraged me to write my story in a book, and it’s definitely something that I plan to do one day. I don’t think a younger version of myself would believe everything we survived. 🙏💜

[findafight]

Hi! Absolutely loved your pjo stranger things post!!!! Do you have any more headcanons about that verse you’d be willing to share? (Especially about Steve ;))

Not headcanons but little snippets just for you, anon <3

Dionysius has never made it anything other than crystal clear that he hates his job. He dislikes teenagers (their ability to throw Bacchanalia aside) and to be surrounded by them and expected to care about their petty squabbles is just...eugh. The boss man really chose a terrible punishment.

But (and somehow there is a but to working with all his godly peers snot nosed brats) he doesn't...mind young children. They are free of inhibition, look at the world in wonder, are unafraid to taste and try mysteries, and are capable of gluttony to rival a gorged king.

Which is how the youngest camper he's ever had has somehow weedled his way into sitting on his lap as he plays pinochle with Chiron. Dionysius slaps his hands, gently, away from the cards, pulls him a bit farther from the table.

"Mr. D," the kid says "are you my dad?"

He splutters, knocks his (depressingly virgin) cocktail all over the table, gets a chuckle from Chiron (the traitor), and has to grip the kid by the waist to ensure he doesn't tumble to the floor. The kid giggles.

"What makes you say that?" He says after he's finished cursing.

Tiny shoulders shrug. "I dunno. Other campers were talking about their parents, and, Uhm." He squirms "They said I don't got one. Like. God-y or not, cuz I didn't run away but I live here all the time. So I thought maybe camp's my home cuz yer my dad?"

Well, shit. How's he, an immortal being who's own father banished him here and can hardly remember being actually mortal let alone a child, supposed to tell a kid that not only did he get dumped in the woods as a baby, and his godly parent hasn't let anyone know who they are, but the weird guy making sure he doesnt die and knows how to read isn't his dad. Whoever his parents are owe Dionysius so much.

"Well. No. I'm not your dad."

He kicks his feet. "But you help take care-a me?"

"Yes. Because you are little."

"They said that's what their normal parents do."

"Well. I'm a god. So."

"But I'm little. And I don't got one." Godsdammit. Now he sounds sad. "They said sometimes kids don't ever get claimed."

Dionysius shifts him so he can look at his face properly.

"Listen, kid. I'm not your dad. I'd tell you if I was your dad. Promise." He can't believe he just said promise. Gods.

"Okay." He says, satisfied, turning back to the table. "Chiron is for sure not my dad, 'cause I'm not a horse."

Dionysius laughs. Yeah. He's got a soft spot for the little ones.

-------

Steve holds his plate in front of him, cup balancing precariously on top of it. Cindy, the head camper of the Hermes cabin where he's lived ever since he can remember, said they scraped off part of their food as an offering to the gods, and specifically their godly parent. Steve has rotated through all the gods this week, since the older campers decided he's old enough to understand why they do it. He's even offered some to Dionysius, as a thank you even though he knows he's not his dad.

The only god he hasn't yet is Hestia, but he's going to tonight. No one really talks about her, even less than Hera and Artemis, but he figures he can try. Some of the Hunters of Artemis, who visited a while ago, told him about Hestia and how she tended the home fires of the gods. How she got a portion of every burnt offering, even if it wasn't directed to her.

He thinks that she might appreciate something special, so he decides to dedicate his burnt offering to her, and offer what some kids called libations. He'll scrape some food into the fire, and then pour some of his juice over it too. The Hunters told him it was special, so he'll try it. Maybe because she's the goddess of home, she'll know who his parents are.

He steps up, slides half his bun and a pile of mashed potatoes with an asparagus on-top that Cindy helped him divide up before they left the table, into the fire, thinking as loudly as he can for you, Hestia. He places his plate down and picks up his cup, the older kids behind him huffing impatiently. He pours a splash, then a second one because he wasn't sure how much a libation was supposed to be, and thinks again for Hestia and our home as it fizzles to nothing on the bricks of the fire.

Picking up his plate, he smiles to himself. His first week of real offerings is going well, he thinks.

-----

Once, when Steve was sixteen, the magic goblets of the dinner tables filled up with wine. Or at least his did. He took his cup with him, poured his libation for Hestia, one of the only two gods he felt remotely any respect for, and paused. He poured a second, for Dionysius.

After the meal, he was summoned. Mr. D raised his eyebrows at him when he walked in and clamped his hand on his shoulder. He'd long since stopped being intimidated by the god, probably sometime around being promised that he wasn't his son, but couldn't help but feel nervous.

"Kid. You can't do that."

"Why not?"

Mr. D sighed."because I'm dry for the next century. My old man hates loopholes, alright?"

"Oh. Sorry."

"Alright, get out of here. We had a late arrival, a nervous one. Get her settled in Hermes cabin with your gaggle of misfits." He waved Steve out, but before he got off the porch steps, he called out. "And Steve?" He waited until he turned back around, then shrugged. "Thanks for trying."

Steve grinned.

-------

There was gonna be a little hint of steddie here but the app keeps crashing so it's not meant to be

[rosieposiepie]

Buffy The Vampire Slayer Tarot Deck Review: Major Arcana

A year after I pre-ordered it and five months after it was supposed to ship, I finally have my hands on the Official Buffy The Vampire Slayer Tarot Deck! I'll post five reviews, this one for the major arcana and four more, one for each suite (Stakes, Scythes, Chalices, and Pentacles).

I'll do my best to provide images of every card and copy down relevant snippets from the guidebook. I'll also be comparing the iconography and description of each card with more classic, established tarot meanings, most of which will probably be influenced by the decks I actively use and read off of, but I did do some outside research for other decks and their guidebooks. Obviously, Tarot is very subjective and most of this is my opinion. If my nerdy geeking out about Tarot at all interests you, the full review is under the read more.

0: The Fool

The Fool Card is Xander because, of course, it is. Season One Xander as well, based on his colorful shirt. This is very much inspired by the Rider-Waite imagery of the fool about to take a misstep and tumble into the unknown. Both because it represents Xander at the beginning of his journey and literally depicts him about to step into an open grave. The Fool represents the beginning of a journey or the path to personal development, both apt for this early Xander. The guidebook explanation for the fool upright is pretty consistent with my past experience in tarot. It differs for the reverse. Reversed Fool usually indicates, in my experience, immaturity or being in a state of needing that journey and emotional growth. The negative side of being a fool, so to speak. Which I personally think could apply to early Xander. But the guidebook says Reversed Fool represents a need for caution or that there's danger ahead. I kind of think Reversed Fool means the opposite; it means you need to go on a journey (while Upright Fool signifies you are already on that journey). I still think Xander is a great choice for this card, though.

I: The Magician

The Magician is a Season 3-esque Willow in the middle of her Wicca phase, happily performing a ritual. Again heavy inspiration from RW tarot iconography, particularly with the lemniscate (infinity). In my experience, Upright Magician signifies limitless potential, and the card itself can mean many things in context (creativity, self-confidence, ambition, opportunity) depending on the reading. The BTVS guidebook is more narrow, speaking about motivations and goals and "conducting oneself mindfully," which works for Willow in context. Still, I'm not sure is always so applicable to The Magician. The Magician Reversed in the guidebook, however, is pretty consistent with traditional interpretations. It means that there is an obstacle and highlights the importance of self-reflection to discover the best path forward.

II: The High Priestess

It's Tara, duh. I'm really glad I agree with this deck's authors that so many of these character archetypes fit. Again, a lot of RW iconography with the pomegranates and the hat. The crystals and the cameo from Miss Kitty are a nice touch, too, to make this card more Tara. The upright explanation is pretty on par with what I'm used to - mystery, spirituality, wisdom, etc. The reverse is more specific for Tara, who speaks about her family and how she lets the opinions of others be an obstacle. Again, that's a very specific reading for Reversed Priestess. I usually like a more general interpretation that there's some kind of conflict between your personal life and your work toward enlightenment; it could be your friends or family. Still, it could also be some personal flaw or your job or finances. So the "just be yourself!" advice that the guidebook implies for Reversed Priestess is not always applicable, in my opinion.

III: The Empress

It's Drusilla, you guys!!! Traditionally The Empress card is painted as whoever the current queen was (usually to avoid religious persecution in Renaissance Europe), so I feel like Drusilla is apt because she is The Queen in my heart. She represents the divine feminine and also mother nature (kind of ironic for a woman who whatever she puts in the ground withers and dies). But I actually like it. Mother nature is known for her unpredictability, capable of fertility and destruction in equal measure. And I feel like that is apt for Dru. Upright Empress is the nurturing side of mother nature, and Reversed Empress is the destructive side. This is why it's a little strange to me that the BTVS guidebook says Upright Drusilla is both, and Reversed Drusilla means... you need self-care?

IV: The Emperor

BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS ON A THRONE LIKE SHE DESERVES. It's also really interesting to me that so many people have written fantastic media analyses about how the slayer represents masculinity, and Buffy's struggle with it can be a metaphor for queerness. And now, they give Buffy the card that represents divine masculinity (I know not everyone vibes with the gender essentialism in traditional tarot, and I try to ignore that, too, but the Emperor is one card where I can't ignore it). Also, Buffsilla nation, rise! As for the analysis, the Emperor is the leader, representing cosmic enlightenment and ultimate power, which definitely works for Buffy. The Upright in the guidebook favors this interpretation, but the Reversed explanation is a little odd to me. My experience is the reversed Emperor is the downside of power and is a warning about arrogance and advice for humility. The Buffy Guidebook says the opposite, interpreting Reversed Emperor as being in a position without power and encouraging someone to fight back and stay true to their convictions. It works in the context of Buffy's character, and I don't necessarily dislike that reading, but I'm not familiar with it in my understanding of Tarot.

V: The Hierophant

The Hierophant represents practical lessons, the study of natural law, and the search for knowledge, which fits this face, Rupert Giles. The iconography for the Hierophant is based on Melchezidek and Rabbinic teachings and passing down knowledge. Admittedly, I can't speak to the cultural context of that, but I think Giles fits fairly well for the general interpretations. This is actually the best card so far in my agreement with the guidebook. The Reversed Giles is basically Ripper, according to the guidebook, and Reversed Hierophant usually represents rebellion and ignoring tradition, so I think it fits perfectly.

VI: The Lovers

I am SO RELIEVED that this card is Tara/Willow. First of all, I'm so happy to see my favorite Lesbians in an archetypal role usually given to Adam and Eve. Secondly, it fits so well with what I interpret The Lovers to represent (no hate for the other relationships but metaphorically, none fit better than this one). I never consider it a purely romantic card but rather the struggle of choice. Choosing pleasure and happiness over other things like spiritual enlightenment or social acceptance, which I believe perfectly encapsulates their relationship. The reverse usually means resistance, resentment, and division. The guidebook agrees with my interpretation pretty consistently for The Lovers and does a great job putting a Tillow spin on the explanation.

VII: The Chariot.

It's Cordelia! Traditionally the Chariot Represents a victorious hero being paraded through the streets in triumph. It signifies a warrior and represents empowerment and achievement. I think Cordelia is a perfect choice for this one! Her journey in BTVS seasons 1-3 is from becoming a spoiled mean girl to a seasoned hero in her own right, a journey that only expands in ATS (seasons 4-5 didn't happen, fight me). The reversed chariot is a call to action, a reminder to move forward and overcome. The guidebook also agrees with me here, although it uses some strange wording to do so, including "inner Cry-Buffy" and"spank your inner moppet." I know they're references, but it can get a little awkward.

VIII: Strength

Dawn Summers, I love you! And I love this card! Strength is usually depicted by a woman taming a lion, representing the ability to control and refine what is considered indomitable and wild. Therefore, it's rarely a card of physical strength, but rather mental/emotional/spiritual strength, and indicates a strong will above all else. I love this for Dawn, and I feel it can be particularly apt in the context she's an uncontrollable thing (the Key) refined in human form. Strength reversal is more of an inability to access those traits, either via a position of powerlessness or internally lacking the will or spiritual strength to achieve your goals. The guidebook, for the most part, agrees with my upright interpretation ("Like Dawn, you are extraordinary," so true, guidebook) but says the reverse is an omen of impending doom, which again just is a little off, in my opinion. I feel like any time you imply a tarot card has an absolute objective meaning about the future, especially, you're in dangerous Tarot-tory.

IX: The Hermit

It's Oz, my beloved! Right off the bat, it does lean into some of the traditional imagery here again, with a streetlamp instead of a lantern. One thing that is Oz-specific is the large full moon in the background and the cool electric guitar. The Hermit card is all about the journey to enlightenment and self-reflection, and introspection in general. Sometimes it means the need for solitude and letting go of worldly attachments to best facilitate that journey. Kind of perfect for Oz, right? The Reverse, then, is resistance to this journey, whether it's a personal unwillingness or worldly attachments getting in the way. All of that, by the way, the guidebook is pretty consistent. I think the only interpretation of Reversed Hermit I've seen that wasn't included is when self-imposed isolation and solitude are actually an escape from what needs doing rather than a way to facilitate it.

X: The Wheel of Fortune

The Slayer Cycle and Sineya again are perfect imagery for the Wheel of Change, which represents the inevitable cycle of change. When Upright, the card signifies the height of the cycle, which is usually positive fortune, spiritual clarity, or luck. The Reversed is the depths of the cycle and is a misfortune, failure, or a lack of control. But it is also the beginning of a new cycle and can be a call to action to renew oneself or start on a new path. I'm a little conflicted about the guidebook's explanation because I like it in the context of the BTVS narrative but not so much for the archetypes and imagery of Tarot. The guidebook says that the Upright Wheel is about being trapped within your fate and needing to accept a situation that is out of your control. Reversed Wheel is about accountability, learning from the past, and breaking the cycle. I think it's fitting for BTVS and the Slayers that the Wheel of Fortune isn't inevitable and can be broken, but that's the complete opposite of what it traditionally means in Tarot. Also, I don't like how they used Hebrew lettering for the Wheel of Fortune, a la Rider-Waite, and then blocked or obscured half of the letters.

XI: Justice

Angel being the face of Justice actually works really well, in my opinion. The fundamental meaning of Justice is "karma," or the balance of actions and consequences. I think no character has this more important to their journey than Angel. I also think it's interesting the card has him holding a double-edged blade which usually means either clarity or the execution of judgment. However, the scales of balance and the crown of Solomon are printed on tombstones. It's almost like saying Angel is the hand of justice, he is on the journey toward righteousness, honor, truth, and balance, but he is not the arbitrator. Justice Reversed usually indicates falsehood, abuse, lies, or imbalance in general, which the guidebook explains as "more Angelus than Angel lately." For the most part, this card fits really well, and I'm happy about it.

XII: The Hanged Man

Spike is the Hanged Man, and it's a perfect characterization. The Hanged Man is all about a trial, awaiting judgment, and holding one's energy in meditation until a resolution comes, usually one which will bring significant change. It is also about sacrifice. Per traditional imagery, Spike is upside-down with his legs crossed in a 4 and his hands "restrained." It works really well for Spike because he is a character that embodies constant change and self-discovery, which I think later transforms into an inevitable sacrifice. Reversed Hanged Man is then more about unwillingness to change, false prophecy, useless sacrifice or an otherwise empty gesture, or self-denial. I do think this fits Spike, but I don't think I agree with the guidebook when it says Reversed Spike means you need to stop stalling and "jump into the fray." Usually, when I see Reversed Hanged Man, I give the opposite advice that this is a time for patience and not rash action.

XIII: Death

Death as a card is fundamentally about change. And not little changes, but huge, monumental changes. It's about transformation fundamentally, and classical imagery used the reaper because of his association with the Harvest and the passage of the seasons. That's why I'm not so sure I like the Gentleman who is the face of Death. Yes, they're essential "reapers" in their own way, but how in Buffy did they facilitate necessary transformative change? Taking people's voices away? I don't know. The vibes aren't there for me, metaphorically. The guidebook also struggles because it knows what the Death Card is supposed to represent - it says outright "change is coming" - but can't really connect the Gentlemen well to that meaning. It says stuff like "you need to find your voice!" which feels like a platitude. Reversed Death is about resisting change, fighting what is either inevitable or necessary. Or sometimes it can be about change not coming as soon as you want it and advises patience. Tarot can be contradictory, but for the most part, the guidebook agrees with the first interpretation about accepting change.

XIV: Temperance

The Temperance card is usually represented with water flowing between two cups to show the mixing and combination of different elements and energies. Upright, it's about synthesis, fusion, harmony, patience, moderation, and peace. It's the reconciliation of two opposite things. In reverse, it is discord, conflict, imbalance, impatience, chaos, frustration, and hostility. I think for so much of Buffy's story, especially the early seasons, Joyce was in the reversed role. She represented the conflict between Buffy's normal life and her responsibilities as the Slayer. The guidebook tries to emphasize, I think, what Joyce could have been, a harmonizing force in Buffy's life who made sure she was able to balance her "normal teenage girl stuff" with her "cosmic, stabby duties." The Reverse Joyce also advises to "channel Joyce's energy" when you get news like "your daughter is the Chosen One." And while I do think what Joyce actually did when she found out Buffy was the Chosen One works for representing Reverse Temperance (asylum, kicking her out), the guidebook seems to think Joyce was patient and steady in her reaction to that news and indicates how Reverse Joyce encourages that behavior. There's just something fundamentally off with the guidebook explanation of Joyce, in my opinion. Almost like how the card itself is a little off, considering they don't show the balance between the two cups, the fundamental iconography of the tempering in Temperance. But I do think the card archetype can work for her character. They just don't explain it well.

XV: The Devil

The Devil as Dark Willow is the perfect characterization for this archetype. The Devil represents addiction, temptation, selfish ambition, that which is taboo, and fundamentally whatever exists in our darker self or the shadow of our psyche, that which can never be truly tamed but we constantly struggle to control. That is Dark Willow. The Reverse Devil usually means the same thing, but when reversed this dark aspect is not being restrained or tamed. Therefore the card itself is a warning of the possible consequences that may come from indulging in this kind of behavior. For the most part, the guidebook is consistent with those readings of the Devil, and the explanation applies to what Dark Willow does in the story. Also, usually, The Devil and The Lovers share some reversed imagery, so I like they kept Willow on both cards as a consistent through-line.

XVI: The Tower

The Tower is the worst omen in the entire Tarot deck. It represents disaster, chaos, madness, and despair. Sometimes it can be more neutral if this disaster or upheaval is a necessary one, but even then, there's some degree of suffering. Even Reversed, it's a bad omen, representing being trapped or imprisoned or stagnation, sometimes by external forces and sometimes by an internal refusal to change. So, what better scene to represent this card than Buffy diving off of Glory's tower at the end of Season Five? The ultimate disaster is represented by the creation of a Hellgod known for creating madness and despair. And the guidebook is pretty consistent here, too, with the meanings for the card that I'm familiar with.

XVII: The Star

The Star represents connecting your soul with the divine, transcending family, community, personality, and reputation to embrace the true freedom, clarity, and insight of the celestial influences. The Star represents exalted origins and a union with a higher power. It represents the Celestial Mandate - the reason for being, the duty behind existence, and our true mission in life. Nobody better represented their dedication to their Slayer Duty than Kendra. She truly embodied that transcendence (while there was a touch of tragedy to it). I think this card is so apt to her characterization, and it's making me upset again about how quickly she was killed off. I love Faith, I do, but Kendra deserved better. Reversed, the Star is the consequence of being disconnected from your true purpose and the misfortune and disappointment that comes from that. Much like my disappointment when Kendra died. The guidebook, I think, does Kendra the discredit of not committing enough to how well the characterization fits, mostly making references to her "only shirt" and platitudes like "unleashing your inner star." But I do really like her on this card.

XVIII: The Moon

Our other Slayer, it's Faith! I've seen a few conflicting interpretations of the Moon. Still, for the most part, I like to interpret it as the veil between reality and what is imagined or mystical and the journey into the unknown and unknowable. This can mean positive things like expanded consciousness and self-discovery but also negative things like illusions, trickery, and the more terrifying aspects of traveling into the unknown. For the most part, the guidebook aligns with some of the more simplified interpretations of the Moon. Upright represents illusions and shadows that need to be overcome, and Reversed is about intuition and achieving clarity. I guess it's really hard to say, depending on the context, that a card can mean many things, even if that's the point. I do think the Moon fits Faith. She has a lot of layers to her, a conflicting sense of self-identity, and a tendency for bravado to hide a lack of confidence. She certainly undergoes quite a journey of self-discovery.

XIX: The Sun

The Sun is one of the best cards in the Tarot Deck. It is radiance, positivity, primordial goodness, truth, and beauty. It is the human incarnation of the divine, the resolution of all conflict, the ultimate accomplishment and the purest joy. Even Reversed, it traditionally has no negative meaning and is either a reminder that obstacles are temporary or that it's important to honor those who aided your success. Some guidebooks will say the Reversed Sun might indicate uncertainty, unhappiness, and doubt. The Buffy Guidebook is more consistent with the traditional interpretations, upright being an indication of "peace, positivity, and an apocalypse expertly halted" and Reversed, meaning that any obstacles are "as fleeting as a passing storm." This is the perfect moment to encapsulate The Sun, a moment of victory, the destruction of the Hellmouth, and the incandescent beauty of Spike's sacrifice, Buffy's moment of truth and confession of love.

XX: Judgement

Despite its name, the Judgement card is about healing, renewal, transformation, and reuniting all aspects of the self, so one is whole and multi-dimensional. I really prefer one of the earlier names for this card, Resurrection. Also, if you think about the Major Arcana as telling a story - the Fool being the man at the beginning of his journey and each card being an obstacle overcome or a lesson learned - then Judgement is the Fool toward the end of his journey, his complete self. I just think it's interesting because Xander is the Fool, and Anya is Judgement. And she really does fit the role, going through the major transformation in the show from an ancient Vengeance Demon to a mortal woman and learning how to heal from her past, enduring several spiritual awakenings. Even Reversed Judgement works for her, representing everything that obstructs someone from reaching this whole self, the fears of death, failure, and illness that Anya struggled with after becoming mortal again. The guidebook, again, is pretty consistent with my interpretation of this card.

XXI: The World

Like The Sun, The World is one of the truly positive cards in the Tarot deck, even reversed. It's the true conclusion to a journey, the epitome of growth, completion, perfection, fulfillment, triumph, victory, and the cosmic awakening of the immortal soul. Traditionally, the reversal has the same exact meaning, although some guidebooks try to put an inverse meaning. I think the point of The World is that it is complete and whole and therefore means the same thing no matter the perspective. The Buffy Guidebook, however, does prescribe a different meaning to the Reversed World: there's a temporary setback, and you must remain motivated, "put on your sparkliest prom dress," and persevere. I do really love Buffy with the Class Protector Award as the face of The World, however. It is a moment of considerable triumph for her and almost represents the end of her High School Journey and the fulfillment of recognition by her peers. Plus, it's one of the best moments in the show.

My Final Thoughts:

So far, I really like all of the chosen characters/faces for the cards, with the exception of Death. My problem is mostly with the guidebook and how it oversimplifies Tarot. They clearly looked at a Rider-Waite deck because of the heavy inspirations in imagery. Still, based on some of the missing elements, they probably didn't do that much research into the history or meaning of those images. However, whoever the artist did a great job, I think, with the deck. I think the guidebook is clearly designed for people with limited Tarot experience and was written by people who don't practice, so a bit of the nuance is missing. Also, usually, I love cringy, campy stuff. However, some of the explanations try to shoehorn in as many BTVS references as possible rather than try to give a coherent explanation. So, I love the cards, and the guidebook is kind of take it or leave it.