#this place is a horrendously beautiful nightmare

[tiredfuc]

Bro it’s so funny seeing twitter user freaking out about how to use tumblr

Literally all you gotta do is ✨vibe✨

[trebuchet151]

This is jumping the queue bc some really cool people reblogged my last post of Corey and they escaped containment.

Updated sidestep design perpetual WIP

Sidestep days vs retribution. They're slowly reacquiring their self expression. Next book will probably be the full return of the scene/punk look

Bonus Corey sans most of their clothing to show off their tattoos under the cut. CW for healed SH scars

Yes that is Ortega's bedroom yes I half assed it. I drew this background in my car at work when it was like 110 degrees idgaf

[fandoms--fluff]

GIRL GIRL GIRL RIGHT, I THOUGHT I WAS THE FIRST PERSON TO EVER THINK OF POLY!MIKAELSONS WITH LITTLE!READER (in my head i mean not like writing) BUT I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING PLEASE I BEG YOU I NEED MORE, GIVE ME MORE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

-🩷

Poly Mikaelsons with a Little Reader Headcannons

A/n: your wish is my command

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Klaus

You'd call him Daddy, and not any other, unlike some of the rest of your mommies and daddies

Like there'd be no reason for needing to call him anything else

Except the couple of times you copied Kol by saying 'Nik'. Which ended in Kol almost getting smacked by Klaus if freya hadn't intervened during those times

He'd definitely spoil you, not caring about Elijah's protests on the matter

He shows you his hybrid eyes to calm you down from a nightmare or a crying fit

^works like magic every time

This beautiful daddy is protective of you like nobody's business

It might as well be his full time job

He'd be the most possessive of you, especially when you regress into basically a baby, not being able to pit together a coherent sentence and just want to snuggle.

^which he would happily comply because even though it may not seem it, he'd be one of the biggest cuddlers, his wolf side playing right into it even moreso.

Elijah

You'd call him Daddy and sometimes when your tired or really regressed, call him Dada

But it's not an every day basis thing

In a very close 2nd place of how protective he is over you, to Klaus

To get you to go down for a nap, he'd walk around the abboiter's endless hallways while gently bouncing you in his arms until your snoozing peace and quietly

Would most likely buy and set up a baby monitor in your nursery to have even more reassurance of your safety even though his vamp hearing is way more reliable than the little machine. But none of the others say anything against it and let it be.

You'd sit with him in his study, coloring a sheet of paper with crayons, sat in his lap, as your Daddy reads through paperwork and boring adult vampire stuff

He'd be very soft with our that no one outside the family has seen or knows of. He'd sit with you in his bed or on the couch or in your nursery on the rocking chair and read you a story - mostly fairytales.

Paces kisses on the crown of your head

Kol

You'd call him Dada and nothing else - he's Dada and will always stay that way to you.

EXCEPT

When kol acts childishy himself (as he often does), he seems more like a best friend than a caregiver to you in those times, so then you'd call him Koly

^the rest of them may or may not be waiting for the moment where it's clear he's also a little cause like c'mon- but that's a discussion for another time

Would definitely be the one to go all out while playing with you, whether that ne setting up massive race tracks all around the abboiter for hot weel cars or creating high pitch voices for your barbie dolls and stuffed animals

He'd blow raspberries on your stomach, sending you into a fit of screeching laughter

Would 100% be labeled as the 'fun daddy'

He'd be the most disappointed when Rebekah banned them from ever dressing you again. He himself thought his outfit choices were incredible.

Would give you smooches all over your face, making you burst out into gleeful laughter

Rebekah

You'd call her Mama and Momma. Mama is used more, but you interchange it depending on your regressed state.

She'd treat you like a princess and almost spoils you as much as Klaus

She'd love buying you cute dresses and jewelry that's safe for you so you won't choke on it or hurt yourself.

She'd ban Elijah, Klaus, and Kol from ever dressing you after witnessing the horrendous outfits they put you in.

^ "this is a fashion nightmare what on earth were you thinking?!" Is a line said to all of them at different moments before she got them all together in a room and declared they're banned from dressing you any longer.

Would do your hair up in the cutest hairstyles, especially the ones with multiple braids

^it's calming for both you and her

She loves just laying with you on her bed. You snuggled into her closet and head nuzzled into her surprising warm vampire chest.

Suckling on her boobs before you're laid down for your bedtime or naps

Freya

You'd call her Mommy and sometimes Momma when you're more regressed. But she's your Mommy through and through.

She loves holding you in her arms and gets a tad disappointed when she has to put you down

^she'd 100% buy one of those adult wraps to hold you against her body

Would cast a protective charm on you so nothing happens to hurt you.

Having Mommy and Mama days with her and Rebekah>>>> they'd be the best!

Freya's the only other one who can still dress you without Rebekah going all 'power mad' (Kol's wording) because she knows her older sister has got the fashion sense that their brothers don't contain.

She'd place Kisses all over your face in the morning after you'd just woken up

Would sway you in her arms and sometimes she doesn't even realize she's doing so

[nataliasquote]

The Price of Perfection | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha will stop at nothing to be perfect, but what will it cost?

Warnings: body dysmorphia, negative self image, toxic thoughts, self hatred, tiny mention of SA

wc: 1k

notes: this is depressing as shit. I wrote it one go (again) and tbh I don’t think it makes sense. I just started writing and didn’t stop. Yeah… vent fic idk. Anyway, enjoy, you angst lovers :)

-⧗-

Mirrors.

A symbol of vanity, casting reflections upon the eyes of the beholder. They’ve seen the most lavish ballgowns and the sleepiest eyes, countless discarded outfits and miniature fashion shows.

Used with friends, with families, with loved ones, a way to see one’s favourite people in the same place. They brought so much happiness without so much as a second thought, so why did she hate them so much?

Whilst the rest of the world crowded to take pictures in the mirror, Natasha had hers concealed away like an antique. A pale sheet usually covered the large reflective glass on her wall, she couldn’t bear the sight.

It wasn’t the mirror itself that caused such repulsion in the Russian’s stomach, no. It was the figure she had staring back at her that left her paralysed in disgust. She avoided all reflections like the plague, far too afraid of what she would find if she looked.

Mirrors hid nothing. They were as raw as could be, every flaw highlighted like the freckles on her pale skin. Natasha never cared for the way her body looked, it served her just fine, but something had shifted lately, something small in her mind triggering an avalanche.

How do you even begin to understand something that has been objectified your entire life? How do you view it as anything more than a way to assist a mission, anything more than something for other people to break at will. The visible scars were one thing, but the invisible marks of the many hands that had slid grotesquely around her waist and pawed at her chest like pieces of meat were what stuck out the most as she obsessed over her reflection.

Perfection was a slippery slope.

And Natasha Romanoff craved perfection.

It was all she knew. But gone were the days of having instructors barking orders to ensure she maintained that divine perfection. She was on her own now, but was that a good thing?

Her self control was impeccable but her eyes told another story. They burned across the expanse of her stomach in the dim bathroom light, slender fingers tugging at the flesh on her hips whilst her jaw was set rigid. The cool air barely raised a hair on her arms as she picked herself apart, falling deeper and deeper into her nightmares as red lines began to form across her limbs and torso.

Where was the perfection she had been told she was?

Was it buried underneath the blanket of snow that coated her homeland in its icy beauty? Or was it simply a ruse, a false pretense, meant only to manipulate her further into the ultimate weapon.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t see it now. Even through blurry eyes filled with tears that warped her reflection further, Natasha still stretched and pulled at her skin, ignoring the burn that ignited just under the surface.

How can someone possibly want to love someone like her? A freak, a mess. Bile rose in her throat the longer she panicked, her eyes frantically darting between countless scars and layers of muscle she only perceived as extra weight.

Where had she gone so wrong?

Her mind, usually her sharpest weapon, unmatched in the face of the enemy, had turned on itself and left her the victim in the lonely battlefield. But who was she fighting, if not the figure who mimicked her every move and felt so familiar yet so horrendously foreign.

She didn’t know who she was anymore. Who did her body belong to, because it certainly wasn’t her. Would anyone want her in this state, or would they be just as repulsed as she was after mere seconds of inspection.

“But you’re beautiful.”

What lies. Her grip on reality may have faltered, like fingers slipping on sodden rocks, but she knew what beauty was. And yet now, face to face with the one so many people had admired, she couldn’t see the so-called beauty.

A breathy laugh escaped her lips, yet her expression did nothing to match it. It wasn’t that of happiness, but of desperation, of insanity, the final parts of her slipping away as dysmorphia finally took its hold.

She would never be beautiful, not to herself. Maybe for a fleeting moment when the sun shone just right and her chest felt a little lighter, but that feeling never lasted. All it took was one glance at her reflection in a window for the clouds to settle back inside her mind, reminding her over and over that she would never look the way she wanted. No matter how much she craved it.

The sheet went back up. Her eyes stayed glued to the sidewalk in fear of catching herself in a shop window, and slowly Natasha felt herself slipping away. Her close circle barely saw her anymore, she didn’t want them to see what she saw, and her fork only pushed her food around her plate instead of allowing her a taste.

She knew the price of perfection was high, but it felt astronomical as she scrambled after it, neglecting her life for a glimpse of that feeling. Yet it seemed the harder she tried, the further it felt, leaving her exhausted day after day.

But she never quit. That wasn’t Natasha Romanoff. If she wanted something, she got it, no matter the sacrifice.

But she was fighting a losing battle. Her clouded mind never once gave way to the idea that she was already perfect. How could it? She wasn’t happy with her body, no matter how much she lost or how far she ran.

To the rest of the world, she was the epitome of perfection.

But to herself, she would never be enough. No matter what.

And no compliment could fix that. Not when her self image was so warped that she couldn’t see straight anymore.

She was, and always would be, the reason for her downfall. No enemy could take her down quite like her own mind could and it was the only thing that gave her a sense of control.

But for the price of perfection, could she give it all up?

[gravitycavity]

[Preview] Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 8

Faintly, Ragatha lifted her head. The will to fight faded in her eyes, as though she knew that the frigid despair pumping from her ruptured heart was unstoppable; only a scant few places — the bottoms of her flat Mary Janes, the stitched tips of her simplified hands, and half of her cherubic face — remained un-abstracted.

Still, she spoke through the pain. “I…love you so much, my Sunshine,” she croaked, leaning her head against Pomni’s chest. The weakened grimace upon her face shied away from two tearful eyes. “I’m so, so sorry our story had to end this way…”

“H-Hey! Don’t talk like that!” scolded Pomni between haggard breaths, “It’s not over yet! Everything’s gonna be okay!”

“Maybe,” Ragatha choked out, her worn-out voice shattered to pieces. “Whatever happens, Pomni, I want you to know — you are everything. Just everything. My whole wide world. And you always will be,” she said. Pearly tears glistened down the soft curves of her cheeks. “No matter what comes next, I’ll never forget the time we spent together. I just wish I could have learned your real name. Or brushed my thumbs across your real cheeks, or rested my head on your real shoulders…”

“You will! I promise you will!” Pomni said, a frog in her throat. Her fierce gaze, wet with tears, fixed on the crooked elevator doors down the hall. She was nearly there. A stone’s throw away. Nearly to the end of this horrendous nightmare. “We’re going to get out of this stupid game together, no matter how long it takes us! We’ll find each other in the real world, no matter how far we have to travel, because…” Pomni shakily swallowed, “Because I love you! I love you, Ragatha, more than anything else in this stupid world!”

Ragatha smiled, despite everything. “Sunshine…?” she breathed. The creaking of floorboards beneath Pomni’s feet — and a distant, monstrous groan down the hall — filled in the pregnant pause before the dolly found the strength to speak again, “Humor me?”

Pomni’s brows squinched together. Humor her? What was Ragatha talking about? “H-Huh?”

“Do you…do you still remember the color of your eyes…?”

“Uh—” Pomni’s head flinched slightly. Ragatha’s question wasn’t unusual — but decidedly out-of-the-blue. Her eyes. What color were her eyes? The gut response of ‘ I don’t know’ or ‘why do you ask’ waited impatiently on the tip of her tongue, and yet, Pomni knew in her heart that that wouldn’t do.

“I, um—” Pomni glanced down. Ragatha stared back, black abstraction spreading across a patient, yet expectant look. “That’s a good question…”

It had been ages since Pomni had given herself more than a passing glance in her toothpaste-flecked bathroom mirror, let alone looked away from her big, ugly blemishes long enough to notice such a trivial detail. She could barely even recall the last time anyone had brought up the color of her eyes. Sometime back in the ‘00s, she figured — when life was simple, and she was old enough to count her age on just two hands.

In truth, she was only half-sure, but she couldn’t leave Ragatha hanging. Pomni chewed on the answer a little while longer before finally spitting it out: “Uh. J-Just brown. I think,” she huffed, squinting at her destination. She was close enough now to make out the distinct “C&A” etched above the elevator door, “Nothing too special.”

“Brown…” Ragatha swooned, “...such a charming color. Copper pans, Autumn leaves, fancy leather couches…” she cooed, wearing a peaceful smile even as strands of abstraction stretched across her mouth, “...I can almost see them now. Goodness gracious, how beautiful they are…”

- - -

New chapter soon! Promise!

[luffyvace]

Obanai x chubby gn reader!!

This won third place in the poll so here you go<3 enjoy kny/obanai stans!! I actually like obanai very much he’s one of my favs from kny i just don’t talk abt him often

also just for the record let’s say this is a au where obanai and mitsuri are close friends :)

In this you’ll be a hashira as well

I don’t think Obanai is one to judge

especially when he wears bandages since people do

if anything he’s worrying about his looks

so in this case it’s not that he dislikes it, it’s just that he saw through your physical appearance and went for personality

and if you have a crappy one?

well then he doesn’t know what draws him to you but somethin’ does!

he tolerates no disrespect from anyone.

like we all know how sharp tongued he is- 😜

and just because he’s one of the “weaker” hashira’s doesn’t mean he’s not one!

he is DEFINITELY above average and CAN do damage

so somebody would be a FOOL to see you with him and decide to screw around and find out

as well as you!!

your strong too!

and they’d better have respect for you!

getting one tapped by two hashiras don’t sound very fun to me..

🤷‍♀️

but yeah if someone is like drunk off they’re end and tries to insult or harass you?!

obanai steps in before you can even do something yourself

depending on the level of what they said or did,

he either flames them so bad they can’t recover

or straight up punches them

maybe even beating them up

who’s going to stop him? The police? 😂

he calls it self defense

tbh it was like, that person was harassing you????

🤨

bro thought he was gon let that slide

this why you can’t pull up on everybody 🤦‍♀️

anyway if your feeling sad bc of what someone says

obanai gets you a gift to make you feel better

He’s really thoughtful and pays attention/remembers everything you tell him you like

which makes perfect gifts for situations like these

ngl this is like idk the year 1500?? IDK BUT ITS THE TAISHO ERA SO THIS WAS A WHILE AGO

which means beauty standards were 📈📈

but for obanai? You ARE his beauty standard 😍😍

everyone should strive to look like our majestic (name)!!

as far as the hashira’s opinions☝️

they don’t mind at all and are completely nonjudgmental

gyomei can’t see so when y’all described how you look it doesn’t necessarily make a difference 😅 although, again he doesn’t mind :)

mitsuri is literally the love hashira she adores you just as much as obanai does <3

shinobu is more mature than to make fun of someone over they’re appearance

now tokito will either

1) be rude at first (the hashira’s have to set him straight)

2) won’t care

3) likes you from jump so he doesn’t mind

sanemi would never judge a women like that (if you know what he did for mitsuri and shinobu and they’re uniforms yk what I mean)

Giyuu is completely unfazed

Rengoku loves you all the same

now uzui…….bc of his standards and 3 wives….it can either go one of two ways

1) him and obanai are now mortal enemies and he keeps you away from him

2) he thinks your THICC and FINE 💖 (dis one better fr)

Ngl it’s even worse if a demon insults you

bc now he gets to KILL them

He goin all out too

who are they to talk anyway demons be the most horrendous looking BEASTS-

fluff time~ 💕💗💖♥︎♡

obanai loves to cuddle!

he’s shy but once you get sometime into the relationship he likes gentle and intimate affections such as cuddling, hugging & hand holding

he holds you in his arms before falling asleep

and he makes sure you sleep first

If you have a nightmare he’s on it!

he’s got water, blankets, comfort food…what else you need??

on it! 🏃💨

That’s literally him

he’s always prioritizing your comfort and happiness in your relationship ★

Get this to the obanai stans, tumblr!! Go go go!!

;3 - Brook

[midwestmade29]

Cowboy Take Me Away 🧡

I'm bringing you guys some sweet heat with this story! A little fluffy smut if you will 😏 Hangman had me all in my feels after Dynamite on Wednesday. (Let's be honest, he has me in my feels even when he's not on live TV) I was team no sleep writing this...there was no way I could stop until I finished the entire thing.

This is Hangman's world and we just live in it 😉

Word Count: 2.6k Divider by: Me 🙂

If you are not 18+ years old, please KEEP SCROLLING. Minors do not interact.

This story is NSFW or minors.

Disclaimers: Nightmare/bad dream, thunderstorm, mentions of blood, mentions of being injured/pain, unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion.

Your cowboy helps comfort you after the bad dream you just had...

You found yourself in a moment in time that you wish you could forget. Somehow you were ringside watching your cowboy maneuver his way around the squared circle. He wasn’t alone inside the ring; his opponent was nothing more than a dark shadow countering every move Adam threw at them with ease. The shadow quickly struck him down, laughing in his face while Adam writhed in pain.

When he was able to get to his feet, the shadow punched him right in the stomach knocking all the wind out of him. The shadow’s attacks grew stronger and more powerful, leaving your beautiful cowboy a bloody mess in the center of the ring. Despite not being able to defend himself, the dark shadow never let up! He continuously kicked Adam until there was no air left in his lungs. Your heart was hammering against your chest listening to him cry out!

You tried to stand but it felt as if there was an invisible rope tied around you, holding you in place. You tried everything you could to try and get to your cowboy! Suddenly there was a bright flash, its essence distracting you. Where was it coming from? Could production be having issues? Surely no one was taking pictures of this horrendous moment! You turned your head, eyes searching all around for the light’s source when a rumble echoed through the arena. You blinked and somehow you were outside, lost in a sea of people. You pushed your way through the crowd, eventually finding an opening. Your eyes landed on Doc Sampson pushing a stretcher towards a dark tunnel. At first you couldn’t make out who was lying on the stretcher until you noticed the familiar, crimson-stained curls and cowboy boots on the person’s feet. It was your cowboy!

You called out to him, “Adam? Adam! Please, wait! Don’t go, I need you!” There was another bright flash followed by a louder boom than the first one. Everyone around you started to run in a panic, pushing you farther and farther away from Adam. No matter how much you begged and pleaded, the swarm of people rushing by only ignored you. Your voice fell upon deaf ears the more you cried out for your Adam.

It was as if he was slipping right through your fingers, leaving you behind. A final bright flash appeared, this time shining brighter than the previous ones. It blinded you, forcing you to recoil at the intense lumens it immitted. Your bones felt like they were rattling under your skin as the ground beneath you quaked when a vicious rumble rolled through, ultimately bringing you out of your deep slumber…

You jolted up in bed, your breathing accelerated, and your body covered in sweat from your dream. The room was dark except for a few flashes of lightning that shined through your opened bedroom windows. Adam was sleeping peacefully next to you, blissfully unaware of the storm that was rolling in. Every window in the house was open, but they needed to be closed as soon as possible in case of a downpour.

“Baby, wake up,” you whispered against the shell of his ear.

You gently shook him, earning a groan from your sleepy cowboy. You planted your feet on the floor and headed towards the bedroom door, calling back to Adam.

“There’s a storm rolling in and all the windows are open. If you can close the ones on this side of the house, I’ll take care of the rest.”

By the time you were done, it had started sprinkling outside. The sound of rain usually calmed you, but you were still on edge after your dream. You stopped in the kitchen for a drink of water before making your way back to your bedroom. Adam was sitting up leaning against the headboard looking at his phone, his voice making you jump when it interrupted the quiet.

“There’s a lot of red on the radar right now. Might get a good storm or two here soon if it doesn’t break up before getting to us. If there’s any warnings that come about, the weather radio should go off and I’ll turn the volume up on my phone too just in case.”

You thanked him for letting you know as you walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. Your hands rested on each side of the sink and your head was bowed as you tried to shake yourself out of the funk you were in. Images from your dream flashed through your mind causing you to shiver when you remembered Adam lying motionless in the middle of the ring battered and bruised.

You splashed cold water on your face hoping it would somehow help rid yourself of the sound of your cowboy crying out in pain that played on repeat in your ears. You inhaled and slowly released a deep breath after drying your face and making your way back to bed.

Adam had turned on the lamp on his nightstand and as soon as the light reached your face, you knew you had been caught.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweetheart? Are you alright?” He asked tenderly.

You tried your best to keep your composure, but your voiced faltered when you lied through your teeth telling him that you were fine. Adam knew you better than you knew yourself, instantly seeing right through you.

He held his hand out to you, encouraging you to come over to him. You placed your hand in his and he gently tugged, signaling he wanted you to sit on his lap. Your leg swung over his thigh, allowing you to straddle him but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in his beautiful eyes.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Did something happen? Talk to me sweetheart,” he softly pleaded.

With his finger under your chin, he lifted your face until your eyes were level with his, and you immediately got lost in them. You leaned into his palm after he gently placed it on your cheek, willing yourself to dig deep and find the courage to tell him about your dream.

“If you’re worried about the storm, I think we’ll be okay. The animals in the barn will be fine too. If you want me to check on them-”

You shaking your head “no” made him stop midsentence. “Then what is it? Tell me,” He begged as worry covered his handsome features.

“I-I had a terrible dream. It was awful Adam!” your voiced cracked when you spoke his name.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, it was just a dream. I’m right here baby, everything’s okay! You’re safe and your dream is all over,” his hands cupped your face as he reassured you.

“It felt so real though! You were wrestling against some shadow figure that left you lying in the middle of the ring in a pool of your own blood. I tried to get to you and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t! Doc Sampson wheeled you away on a stretcher and I called out to you, but you didn’t hear me. It was like you slipped right through my fingers! The thunder ended up waking me,” you explained, which only left you feeling exasperated.

Adam pulled you closer to him, his strong arms wrapping themselves around your body and holding you tightly. His large hand rested on the back of your head, holding it in place as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That sounds awful! You have to know that would never happen though. Shadow figure or not, you know I’d kick its ass long before it even had a chance to lay a finger on me,” his joke caused you to chuckle as you pulled your head back and looked at his face once more.

“That’s more like it!” he praised, his smile causing you to smile bigger.

“Thanks baby, I needed that. I know it wasn’t real, but it was the type of dream that lingers even after you’re awake. It just kind of shook me to my core seeing you like that and not being able to do anything about it. Sure, I’ve seen you in countless Texas Death Matches and I’ve cared for you after all of them. Just something about my dream almost felt worse, you know?” Your fingertips traced along one of Adam’s larger scars he had on his chest as your mind started drifting again.

He grabbed your hand softly, stopping it in its tracks before bringing your fingertips to his lips. He began kissing each pad as you watched, “Adam…” fell from your lips involuntarily when he peppered tender kisses on the inside of your wrist. The more skin his lips touched rekindled the embers deep inside of you that always burned for him.

Your eyes watched as his mouth left a small trail of wetness in its wake, sending a shiver down your spine when your dampened skin was met with the coolness of the night air. You sighed slightly when his lips pulled away, your eyes instantly darting to his plump lips letting him know exactly where your mind was at now.

“Do you want to talk about it more, sweetheart?” Adam murmured just mere inches away from your face.

You shook your head no, but he wasn’t satisfied with that response. “Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better,”

He brushed his nose ever so slightly up against yours, making you forget how to form words for a few seconds. He waited patiently for your answer, sighing with relief when you finally spoke.

“No, Adam. No more talking. Please, make me forget about what happened. Set me free from the thoughts that cloud my mind…”

Your hands snaked around to the back of Adam’s neck as the two of you looked deeply in each other’s eyes. The sexual tension was thick in the air, almost crackling with electricity. Adam closed the gap between you, his kiss laced with passion and full of want and need. You could see the flash of lightning through your closed eyes and jumped when the sound of the thunder roared.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Adam reassured you.

His length hardened underneath you as your hips rocked against it the more he kissed you. The roughness of his calloused hands on your delicate skin made you shiver when they slid underneath your nightgown. He effortlessly removed it, leaving your top half completely bare. Adam was only wearing his pajama bottoms and underwear, which still felt like too much clothing!

Your fingers slid under the waistband of his pants making little goosebumps appear all over him. He stopped your hand once again and purred into your ear.

“Not yet, angel. I want to take care of you right now,”

In one swift move, he scooped you in his arm and laid you down on the mattress. His body weight pressed you into the bed as he massaged your breasts with his hands. Your breathing accelerated when he whispered against your collarbone.

“You’re so God damn beautiful. My own little slice of Heaven,”

Adam started kissing a trail down your body, covering every square inch of skin he could with his tongue and lips. He whispered sweet nothings against it, the hum of his voice sending soundwaves right to your throbbing clit.

Every touch, every caress was intentional, perfectly placed on your body as your sweet cowboy descended in between your legs. With a smile on his face, he hooked his fingers under the lace of your panties and slid them down your legs until you were able to kick them off.

He spread your legs wide, opening you up fully to him before diving in and devouring your sweetness. Adam peered up at you as his tongue swirled and flicked against your little bundle of nerves, causing you to cry out his name, “Adam! Yes! Th-that feels s-so good!”

He knew you were on the brink of orgasming, quickly grabbing hold of your legs, pulling you even closer to his face. He was completely consumed by your sweetness, humming against it completely enchanted with the feeling of you unraveling on his tongue.

Your release ripped through you as you came, you swore you saw stars! With your legs still shaking, Adam kissed your inner thigh and stood up revealing his throbbing cock straining against his pajamas. You laid there trying to steady yourself as you watched his every move.

The rain outside had really started to come down, thunder could still be heard off in the distance. Lightning flashed, brightening the room, giving you the perfect view of your cowboy at the foot of the bed stroking his hard cock. Pre cum glistened on his tip, making his arousal even more evident. Adam crawled back on to the bed and positioned himself in between your legs again, the tip of his cock resting at your entrance.

His breathing was unsteady as he spoke quietly into the night.

“You are my dream come true Y/N. My world begins and ends with you. No matter how many dark shadows I have to fight off, I will always be by your side,”

The wind started to pick up outside, rustling the trees and blowing through your bedroom windows, making the sheer curtains adorning them drift in the air as if they were feathers. A clap of thunder immediately followed a stand of crackle lightning that shot off in multiple directions, causing your house to lose power. Now it was nothing but you, your cowboy, and the rainstorm.

Adam eased his way inside you, taking his time sliding in and out as your walls adjusted to his size.

“You’re so tight, angel. Y-you feel incredible,” he stammered as he was getting completely consumed by bliss.

The smell of the freshly fallen rain danced around the room and the sounds of your moans filled the quiet in between the rumbles of thunder. Each time the lightening gave Adam a glimpse of your face, he let you know just how beautiful you are.

“I love the way you look at me as I glide in and out of you. You’re the m-most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”

Adam made slow, sweet love to you, savoring every moment. His blonde curls tickled your face when they fell around it every time he leaned down to kiss you. He continued his slow but meaningful thrusts leaving both of you panting and voices raspy.

Adam was nurturing your mind, body, and soul this way, making your bad dream nothing but a distant memory now. His length filled you to the hilt, hitting every spot inside you, leading the way for your body to find its release. You couldn’t help but cry out his name when you finally succumbed to him.

“Adam, ohhh my God…Adam!”

“I’m right there with you angel,” he moaned.

As you fell apart all over his cock, your juices intertwined with his as he orgasmed with you. Your bodies quaked and trembled against one another, the pleasure shooting through your veins like hot molten lava. Every nerve in your body came alive, pure ecstasy radiating from you as each new wave of pleasure crashed against you.

“S-so beautiful…” was all Adam could manage to say. He brushed the hair off your forehead that found itself stuck there due to the sweat that blanketed your entire body.

The storm outside calmed, just like the one that had gone through your mind earlier. Sleep overtook both of you as you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Your cowboy was your calm before and after every storm, always walking beside you and being your guiding light, leaving all shadows in the dark where they belong.

🧡

[eggtartz]

✧ 9th October ✧

Reiner Braun // Therapeutic (f! civilian reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : angst with comfort, heavy spoilers, self blame, sunshine reader

reiner awoken from another nightmare, jolting from his bed as he looked outside his window. oh, the war is over and freedom is guaranteed (for now). as one of the formers warriors of marleyan, he has nothing but regrets of his past, having horrible dreams and nightmares of the people he has killed when he first wrecked the wall. he sighed and held his head, another day to live while being haunted by his own doings.

he managed to find silence in the city, looking for a quiet place before he dies peacefully because he inherited the Nine. he wishes to suffer as much as the people he has inflicted suffering on, punishing himself to a degree where he thinks he's unforgivable. he walked outside the small cottage that he has built, a lake where he spends his days spread in front of him. but today, he noticed a figure crouched down at the bay of the lake. strange, considering he was located far from society.

"may i help you?" he asked gently as you turned around, a basket in hand and a scarf on your head "hello! i'm assuming you're the owner of the lovely cottage? i'm sorry, i got a little lost while i was chasing butterflies and ended up here so i kinda don't know where i am" you smiled, trying to hide your clumsiness that ended you here. reiner looked at you and saw nothing but a ray of sunshine, a fresh air and nothing but a innocent woman. your eyes were shining with life while his was dead, how different were you two.

"yes, the town is downside of north" he said and you grunted "i'm so sorry.. could you show me? i'm horrendous at directions" you almost plead "if you don't want to, that's okay!" you smiled "i don't want to burden you further" he quickly said "it's okay, let me change my clothes. please, come in." he urged you to come in his cottage as you looked in awe "such a beautiful home! did you built it?" you asked as he vanished to change clothes "yes, from scratch"

your eyes almost bulged in surprise "you're so talented!" reiner's hand on his shirt's button stopped, no one has talked this tenderly to him. "I wished I could do a good job like yours!" your sincere tone was visible from behind the door as he tried not to cry from the comforting words so he cleared his throat and came out from the room "thankyou, you didn't had to say that. i'm sure you're also a talented woman. shall we?" he said, showing the door as you nodded and walked out, him following closely.

upon arriving at town, you turned to him with gratefulness in your face "thankyou! I didn't catch your name?" reiner almost flinched at your obliviousness. he was intending to lie, to let you in the dark about this identity but he has done that in the past. he won't do it again.

"reiner braun" he said, almost vulnerable but he saw you smiled "reiner.. i'm y/n! i hope we get to see each other again, until then. bye bye!" you went your own ways, bidding goodbye with a smile that left his heart pounding and for once, alive. the next day, he purposely came to town again (something he rarely does) for one specific person, you. he silently looked through stores, just a glimpse of you is already enough. at a dining cafeteria, he sat at a table alone while looking outside. he strangely misses you and wishes to see you again but caught no sight of you at all, it was difficult to not sigh. "welcome to- reiner?" he looked up and there you are. in your full glory and a uniform with that usual warm smile you always had that it shined through him. "y/n? i thought i lost you" he blurted as you laughed "lost me? i never left here" you smiled, his heart aching and yearning for comfort.

he grunted "uh, y/n. this might be.. fast but can i possibly ask you on a date tonight?" he said, trying not to stutter and leave a decent first impression. your eyes widened and gleamed with a specific excitement "oh! i'd love that, reiner!" he managed to smile, how he feels his heart is full again despite all these years of pain. decades of guilt. that night, he bought you dinner to a nice place where you two had good food. apparently, you came to marleyan using the planes, just after the rumbling. you mentioned how terrifying it must've felt for the people also for the people who has stopped them. reiner listened intently as he felt like barging in, saying that he's the armored titan. your spoon dropped "you cant- are you truly?"

"yes, y/n. i inherited the armored titan and is doomed to die for several more years. and i shall die with my titan powers" he said, a bit relieved to get it out from his chest. "reiner, you're so.. cool" you said softly, it made him flinch again. "c-cool?"

"i understand how you feel. i understand how it feels to live in guilt but reiner. you have limited time, will you spend these last years hating yourself?" you found a courage to ask him as his breathing hitched "i- y/n.. i.. i have done many wrong things.. unforgivable.. i'll be damned in hell for what i have done.. these.. powers.." he sniffled, looking down to his hands "these powers bares a heavy responsibility" dinner went awkwardly for the rest of the night however he can't help but feel much better than he usually does. he was able to speak about his guilts better and express himself better. things ended up back at your house where you welcomed him, something he hasn't felt for so long.

"please, make yourself comfortable" you said gently, taking off his coat for him and hanging it. "would you like something to drink? some snacks?" you asked gently "i think i had enough desserts but i can't decline a lady's offer" he softly smiled, looking into your shining eyes as you smiled "i'll bring out the cookies then."

fresh baked cookies are on the table as you placed two mugs of tea in front of him, sitting beside him. the silence was both comforting and confusing as you tried to dig on some words to initiate. "thankyou, y/n." you looked at him "for what?" he looked into your gentle eyes, found peace in your existence. "for showing me that.. that kindness still exists" he genuinely smiled and as you blushed "y-you're welcome" your cheeks were warm as he shifted closer to you, watching your lips. you noticed and also leaned to him when eventually your lips met. it was fireworks, as cliche as it sounded. reiner never thought something could be so soft, yet another person's lips. he found a steady pace on the kiss, placing his hands gently on your neck to guide you as you let him because it felt so perfect. so right.

when he finally let go, both of you were panting. you stared into his eyes as licked your lips "reiner, can i help you?" you asked, voice almost inaudible "help me with what?" you caressed his cheek "with the pain. let me take all your pain away, let me hold you" you said as his lips quivered. it was a moment of vulnerability as he hugged you, face buried on your shoulders as you caressed his dirty blonde hair. he sobbed, saying incoherent words all while your hands hold him, something no one has ever done.

not even his own mother.

your shirt is wet due to his uncontrollably sobs and you gently placed a kiss on his temple. "let your past go, reiner. let it go" you soothingly said.

one thing lead to another and you found yourself kissing the former warrior with tears staining his cheeks while you caressed his jaw. it was slow but meaningful as you bought him comfort and warmness. he found peace in you and he intends to stay here. your lips trailed to his neck and sucked the flesh gently as he swallowed his saliva, bobbing his Adam's apple. "y/n.. you don't have to.." he said with a strained voice, hands struggling to not grab your hips to ground on his crotch. he wants you to take your time even if it meant he had to wait.

you shook your head "it's okay, i want to" you said with lustful eyes that reiner gulped again. you slowly took off your top, revealing your undergarments "reiner, would you want me to continue?" you asked as he gripped your hips "y-yes.. do anything you'd like..." he struggled to gaze upon you, concerned that he'll bust the moment he does.

you two moved to the bed, hands tangled in each other's hair as you yanked his pants down. "y/n.. i.. i'm.. you won't go right? you'll stay right?" he was vulnerable and weak, a side he wasn't able to show all these years. all the pent up feelings were harbored as you smiled to him "never, reiner. never" you whispered, pushing your undies aside to sink on his dick. he groaned as you took a slow pace, hands tightly on your hips "so good.. reiner, you can hold on me.." you raised your hips, your pussy sucking his cock back like it was always meant to be there. like he was home.

"can i be with you forever? marry you? make you the mother of my children?" he looked at you who's riding on his dick, hands steady on his abs for stability "yes.. i do want that" you smiled as he smiled as well, finally being able to find peace and happiness. he sat up, thrusting up to your warm cunt, hands slithering to your clitoris and you yelped "wait!" you squealed as he kept a steady pace with his thrust and his rubbing that you came with a moan while he kept thrusting. "thankyou.. y/n" he painted your insides white, holding you so you won't fall.

"thank you."

[multiverserift]

I solved the Fermi Paradox. You know, the question "if the probability for aliens is so high, where are they?" One of the newer contestants is the so-called "Dark Forest" theory. It basically says we're surrounded by nightmare predators, and everyone who makes themselves known gets instantly eaten. It's a grim, predatory capitalist interpretation. There are of course more. Dark answers (because civilizations always crumble and fail), hopeful ones (because we are the first out there and ahead of us is a golden age of possibility, exploration and wonder)

There is also the theory that earth is simply a protected place. A museum. A zoo. A lab. A meat farm. I propose a better theory:

Seriously, if you want meat and have a galaxy faring civilization, you can propably grow meat in tubes 'n stuff. What can we as humans do very well? Earth is a ressource of culture, art and stories. We have been called "pan narrans", the storytelling ape (Pratchett, Cohen, Stewart). What we do best is tell stories and put them into neat, beautiful, horrendous or mentally exhausting little packets. Written stories, pictures, games. So basically, we don't see any aliens because they all desperately wait for Half Life 3.

[cheesemenace]

Corpses, Walkers, Zombies, Ghouls- Oh Whatever

Chapter 4 - Wandering Feet, Wandering Thoughts

The walk to the water tower was horrendous. An absolute nightmare. All the way from the soles of my feet to halfway up my calves throbbed in pain. About three quarters into my “adventure” I realized that I have no clue how water towers work. Rather than continue with unfounded hope, I ransacked a dusty beauty supply store. I snatched a few of the non-perishable snacks near the register and swiped the last 4 plastic water bottles. What? Do you think I'm going to drink a monster during the apocalypse? I’m being chased by monsters, I don’t need to drink one.

        Hot blistering white concrete was framed by unkempt lawns, now long grasses spilled over. Weeds struck up through cracks in the ground and took over flowerbeds. It reminded me of the virus. An unstoppable force hellbent on choking out life. 

        So far I have only seen the virus take over human vessels, but there is always a chance a mutation will appear from the dark veins of the undead to destroy the rest of the living. It is difficult to think about that. New emancipated life, which has been a slave to humanity for millions of years, snatched up once again for torture.  Freed, just to be enslaved in a dance of death once more with a twisted version of their previous captors. Maybe the lifeless versions of mankind will be less cruel. I plead with whatever control, whatever higher power, whatever god is out there: that this is a punishment for man or a revolution of the earth. A natural pesticide to rid the land of the biggest infestation, the filthiest cockroaches, humanity. 

        As my thoughts wandered, so did my feet. There in front of me stood the water tower, its dark gaze trained on me.

        Only I would do something as stupid as waste my energy thinking about useless information and making my way to useless places. I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided a water tower would be my best bet for clean water. Fingers twitched at my sides before gripping onto the sweaty cotton fabric of my shirt, resisting the urge to pick at the delicate skin of its nail beds.

Not like I can take back any actions, what’s done is done. 

1.2 pages · 382 words

Visit my writings list to find previous chapters or check out my quotev account here:

[capsensislagamoprh]

The gates to Arcadia were never meant to be closed. Towering spires made of dreams and that which time had forgot wove together to make a barrier of unfathomable weave, thick with want and desire. Deadly in its seduction for things one could never obtain, it swallowed trespassers in a maze of there own fallacies. A price was never to high to escape. Few did. The gates were meant to form a thorny warning to those who seek the keeper of dreams, a being so powerful it was known only as the Wyld. The world had once headed the Wyld, its call seductive, promising everything if you were willing to sacrifice. Its places were sacred, its laws ever changing and absolute. Then man decided they didn't need to fear, they had fire, they had stone, they had the power to combine, adapt. The adaption was, as all dreams knew, the issue.

Humans forgot where the adaption came from. They made up names for it. Names they controlled. Names that did not change. And then, to the determent of all, they tried to control the dream itself. All the fragile human world suffered, and still they did not know why. They did not understand the agony of nightmares unchecked, of trying to reach thrugh the glittering spires of unpronounceable things. They did it because they forgot there place. Mortals, all mortals, die. Death is not to be feared. Only the unmaking, where one is considered to the very smallest thing. One was ether adjusted, or broken. Broken things went into the belly of the Wyrm. Adjustments were painful, but worthy of the time. The unmaking of a being touched everything except the first dream. Even then, the first dream was not immune to the sundering. When humans forgot mortality and empathy, when they filled the land with excuses, the gates closed, and the dream - that ephemeral thing exploring the world its own matter created - was broken into many beings. Immortality could no longer remember its own name. Its cost was horrendous. It broken form glittered into pieces. Those locked in Arcadia were called elves by most, fey by some who knew better, but they had an older name. Something so horrifyingly pure it resonated in the spirit of everything. Those unfortunate enough to be stuck in the material world lost much of there sparkling power. They diminished, until at last they too became bound to the cycle of remaking. They would live lives only they knew, and they would live as mortals; they would die. They would be torn apart in the great belly of the Wyrm, finery shredded for parts to bolster other failing dreams. All there parts would come out the other end as glittering bits for the Wyld to mold, the Weaver to put together. The cycle would begin again. The noble fey - those dreamed elves for there ever glowing beauty - were not so fortunate on the material side of Arcadia. They had but one life, and if the mortal shell died... Otherwise, they were functionally immortal. They did not age, or loose control of there bodies and minds such as humans did when the end was near. For this they paid dearly. Boredom, that horrid, soulless ennui, would normally take a fey into a depression spiral the likes of which bolstered less scrupulous mental health professionals to great wealth. At worst it would sleep the soul inside the fey until it could be awoke by something that called to its very essence. Unless you were a noble. A noble made sure they had someone to talk to. Someone to get them out of there hideous spiral before it caused them to die. No one wanted the shame of dyeing of boredom. Literally. Which, Victor thought, was exactly why it was a very good thing he was on the correct side of Arcadia. It had been eons since the gates of Dream had cracked open just that tiny bit. Humans had learned to touch the sacred shield. Or, as they called it, the moon.

The day the gates opened just that touch, most of his people stayed put, fear etching there perfect visages. Victor had moved. He had gathered the Lord of the Winter Sun, dreamed from all the things that made mortals worthy of exhalation, made them heroes, and set out to see just what had become of that ever exciting place where things constantly moved and dreams were slow to change. Maybe the place would allow Victor to smile, to feel something other than cold duty.

The mortal realm had smelled. Bad. It was wet and dry, and it consumed things with its fleshy bits rather than sipping the nectar of its spirit to sustain. It had an abundance of everything, and so many broken beings, Victor began to wonder if it was worth peaking thrugh at all, let alone the day trip. Then, tragically, the doors to Arcadia began to shut again. He was propelled bodily thru the thin cracks still remaining, landing as a most elegant heap on the other side. But the doors were closing faster than they had opened, and his trusted knight remained on the wrong side of the gates, his dark eyes seeming to say it was okay. This is what he was made for. To protect. He was the Hero, and Victor was the Winter King. When it came down to it, Victor mattered more to natures balance than a mere dream of humanity, no matter how many tales had been woven into the Hero's being. Victor knew this. Victor could rationalize this. Victor was made of wondrous things, and all of them cried out in broken agony. He could feel something inside crack. He knew what fate waited for fey on the material side of the gates. How was he going to face what waited for him in the Shimmering Cascade? How would he face Yuri? His cousin was going to gut him.

[peculiarbeauty]

SHE WAS A PRISONER to this dream that revisited her many of a many nights. meeting a handsome prince confined to seldom hope. ( trapped ! trapped ! ) but he was like her , wasn't he ? within a reality that he did not mean to stumble upon. he was the red rose plucked away and discarded of his thorns so he could not fight back.

oh , he was lovely. more lovely than any amount of royalty she could come close to. " you are here .. " she says , attempting to relish in the moment just for it to be stripped away , causing her dysfunctional dream to take shape in the presence of a terrifying beast. HE WAS THE ONE WHO IMPRISONED HER . . . and now , he has imprisoned this other poor soul.

but she will not give up. she will find this prince once and for all.

for many nights , her nightmares would cause her to wake up screaming and sweating profusely from the terrors of not being able to save this other lost soul who had been so disgracefully betrayed , but not tonight. SHE REFUSES TO FAIL TONIGHT. this prince , he must be real --- and trapped here. trapped somewhere in the castle.

he is possibly hidden deep within a dungeon. and just like that , beauty has made her decision to be as quiet as a mouse and slip out of the lavish bed that was so humbly gifted from the master of the house.

a candlestick is obtained , and the creak of the door has her heading off 'pon the castle grounds for answers. at night , everything within the castle was rather dark and gloomy.

it was different within daylight hours where some bits of hope could be found. to say that she was afraid to take these steps onward would be a lie , but if there was a prince within this castle held against his will , she must be the one to break him out and get him to safety.

perhaps . . . perhaps they could run away together. start a new life away from the horrendous life she is living now.

down , down , down the stairs she goes. she will remain vigilant to check about , for the beast did seem to be just as quiet and observant of her.

no signs of life were seen , and so she heads on into the deepest parts of the castle. a place he has hidden from view. a place she was forbidden to go . . .

she looks upon tattered walls and empty chains of nothingness. it was intimidating , but no signs of life could be foretold here. this place once hosted parties , but life does not live here anymore.

A GASP at a shattered mirror and a slightly tattered painting can be seen. ( whoever did this was frighteningly afraid to look upon the beauty of a man in it . . . )

she is slow to uncover more of the painting , eyes to widen at the growing sincerity in the eyes of another she has met once. ONCE UPON A NIGHTMARE . . . a sweet , sweet nightmare.

the candlestick drops , and she is left without a light. she fumbles backwards falling into an all too familiar patch of fur that stands behind her.

her heart begins to pound rapidly , the fear reflected in her eyes with the quick turning of her person to find him . . . the master.

plotted starter for : @whiimsicaldream

[piedpiperslists]

Seokjin One Shots (XXX)

* s - contains smut

Pasta La Vista by @honeymoonjin wc~2.3k / chef!Seokjin, food critic!reader Summary: In which you, a food critic, wonders how the hell Kim Seokjin manages to stay in business considering how horrendous his food seems to be.

Play Hard by @honeymoonjin s wc~7.4k / pro dom!Seokjin, camgirl!reader, pornstar au, PWP Summary: Every one of your friends in the industry told you when you were starting out that the secret to fame was Kim Seokjin. Every person that had subbed under him in his exclusive ‘play hard’ webseries had quickly become a sought-after name in porn. The only catch? You had to survive him first.

Strings of Suffering by @gingerpeachtae wc~3.2k / angst, soulmates au Summary: The Judges believe ugly souls don’t deserve peace. Jin may have been beautiful, but his soul wasn’t… at least, it hadn’t been while he was alive.

One-on-One by @matchagator s wc~7.7k / CEO!Seokjin, employee!reader Summary: An annual office banquet has some of your coworkers glorified while you sit lacking the recognition you know you deserve. When your best friend convinces you to let loose, you end up falling into bed with a handsome stranger for a night of drunk sex.

Arcadia by @jimlingss wc~9.6k / dystopia au, utopia au Summary: In a new era, the human race has largely been eradicated through warfare and disease. You are one of the few left, living in the forest and making use of the wild. Or at least that’s what you think until a man quite literally crashes into your home.

Foreverland by @jimlingss wc~15.2k / Peter Pan au Summary: Just because you’re nineteen doesn’t mean you aren’t still a CHILD! So why does everyone want you to grow up so badly?! Is it so wrong to not want to work? To get married?! And for heaven’s sake, you’ll wed anyone but boring Namjoon! Little do you know, a certain fairy boy’s about to grant your wish and whisk you far away from this nightmare.

Seven Seconds in Heaven by @jimlingss wc~5.8k / angst, established relationship Summary: In the moment of your death, Heaven drops the hammer of punishment; making him travel back in time to relive memories that can never be changed. Seven memories. Seven minutes in each. Seven seconds before they are ripped away.

Dose by @dreamhimcloser wc~7.2k / supervillain!Seokjin, superhero!reader Summary: Seokjin was in deep troubles. How the hell is he supposed to win over a love potion he gave himself?

Down by the River by @luffles424 s wc~3.9k / historical au Summary: The river is the only place you and Seokjin have for yourselves. A secret you have to keep from your family because they’d never approve of your interest in Seokjin.

[...] Appetence by @luffles424 s wc~7.8k / CEO!Seokjin, A/B/O dynamics, PWP Summary: It’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

[exiled-eyes]

“I heard you thrashing around last night. Nightmares? Is that why you’re so tired?”

TW: Body Horror

Bowen. A familiar face which used to instill both fear and admiration, now plagues Cecco late in the night. The features of the deceased Captain, aglow from nearby candles whose flames licked at his face. To stand by his side once more, shoulders pulled back, and a wicked smirk upon the quartermasters lips. The sight before them, Neverland, set ablaze. Screams ringing out in to the night. Howls of pain mingling with the sound of The Righteous Harpy's crew laughing and celebrating. Leather boots lift Cecco unto the gunwale as a figure begins to run towards the shore. Familiar, melting away with each step they take.

The feral pride that had been within Cecco's chest, was swept away. Replaced by a heavy drop that hollowed their very core. It was Charlie. Screaming for help upon the shores. Whenever Cecco tried to move, to jump in to the waters to go and save their friend, Bowen placed a hand upon their shoulder. Firmly holding them in place. Another figure upon the shore, screaming out for Cecco. Wendy. Her screams pierced the pirate's chest. Joints stiff in horror. A burning sensation settles on Cecco's shoulder, a soft, friendly voice greeting them. "Let them go." Anna's words were chilling. Yet, when they turn to gaze upon her, they are met with the horrendous sight of her bare jaw in the breeze, flames still dancing upon her skin as it boils and bubbles. Tawny hues turn back to the shore, and the two are gone. Singed clothing and ash in the wind as Peter Pan hovers above the shore. A grin upon his features.

Rough digits grazed over cracked knuckles. These nightmares had grown so vivid over the last few nights. Days felt like months, and sleep was becoming a horror all its own. Cecco had started to become elusive to the sandman's grip, fighting off drowsiness until it laid claim to them, forcing their eyes shut when they could no longer fight, and then it started all over. Fire, screaming, pain, guilt. It all wracked their mind mercilessly. Such familiar sounds, similar fates all awaiting the inhabitants of the island, at the hands of a dead man no less. Turning their attention towards Anna, Cecco offered her a weak half-smile. "Disturbed your beauty sleep did I? We both know how badly you need that."

A shallow laugh escaped from chapped lips as Cecco averted their gaze, focusing on the cup between their palms. Lying to Anna never seemed to end well, but to look at her was proving to be harder than they had expected. Skin melting away lingered on her visage. A sight they truly wished to never see. "It's this anger. This island, that boy. It's taking a toll, is all."

[aestheticanimosity]

Act of Hatred Chapter 1

Official Global translation.

Verse 1: Watch and listen. The PIPER is coming from town. SINGING a song with his flute. His feet skipping to the beat. The piper is coming from town.

"Hideous." His murmurs escaping between breaths difted into notes.

His melancholy became a chord, and that cord to a song.

A song to summon a NIGHTMARE.

(In battle) Hamelin: Ugly… Hideous…

Hamelin: Such an ugly world. Full of hideous creatures.

Hamelin: Why is it allowed to exist?

Verse 2: I've visited many towns. I've associated with all kinds of people. I've spoke of many dreams. And I've witnessed a variety of lives.

Verse 3: I am a bird without a home, living one day at a time. Throughout this time, I have observed a plentitude of diverse worlds.

Verse 4: In those colorful worlds, I found so much astounding beauty. But compared to them… thi world is… Repulsive.

Verse 5: Hideous monstrosities everywhere. Showing their face in public should be a crime.

Verse 6: Such foul, disgusting creatures. It's revolting. They shouldn't even be allowed to breathe. Why are such apalling beings before me?

Verse 7: How dare they display their dreadful selves to me. I, epitome of beauty itself.

Verse 8: Ugly is beauty. Beauty is ugly.

Such words are but a fallacy.

Verse 9: Erase all that is ugly. Love all that is beautiful. That is my law in a world built for me.

Verse 10: "All must be BEAUTIFUL. All that is UGLY is to be erased."

Blowing his pipe, singing his song, he steps as light as a feather. And like brushing away dust from his shoulder, he kills the nightmare with ease. There standing on this terrible path was a single white FLOWER blooming brilliantly. "My goodness… !" Just as he was about to utter 'beautiful', a HORRENDOUS nightmare appeared.

(In battle) Hamelin: You have some nerve…. Showing your ugliness before beauty.

Hamelin: Have a taste of your own sin.

Goodbye, HIDEOUS nightmare. And to my beautiful flower, hello. Blaring a song of joy, he kneeled before the flower. Then-

He RIPPED the flower from its place and gobbled it up.

"All that is ugly must be erased. And that which is beautiful…. must remain beautiful inside ME." The piper's lips curved delightfully.

[ritaskeeter-scandals]

The Application

Disclaimer: Even when talking about herself, she has to make everything revolve around her life, the cheeky little gossip that she is. She is also going to slander some of our faves, sorry not sorry xoxo. Additional Disclaimer: Unreliable narrator (duh)

Playlist for Rita Skeeter - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1SJeiZjKtgWN8FF1KX5nKb?si=rapgVd-gSG2vS9oTm6mVmA&pt=6b5859e22f463a6c836a9b620441026e

Well hello once again my dear scoundrels, and welcome to Rita Skeeter’s Scandal Sheets. For those of you who have yet to join the Skeeter Scandal train, this lovely little column of your beloved Daily Prophet is dedicated to the sharing of all of the Magical United Kingdom’s (and the occasional international) most ear-catching rumors and gossip. Though most days I relinquish spilling all these delicious secrets we all have (and secretly love to see revealed), today is all about your most cherished journalist, me! Admit it, you little rascals, it is impossible to not be curious about the quill that produces such a brilliant display every day for your most interested minds, so why not dish out all the details of my life, fears and desires all included. So welcome to Rita Skeeter’s Scandal Sheets, Rita Skeeter edition! First things first, of course, let me tell you all about my birth. Of course, I was born with my all-loving parents, in the infamous Skeeter family, but I’ll just about bet none of you knew that I first saw the light of day on the 7th of September 1955. Yes, my esteemed readers, I’m a Libra (shocking right?). Though a few very un-fun and sincerely not the type you’d want to invite to a party, people guess that I’m a Gemini because I’m just ‘not trustworthy’, which is just poppycock if you ask anyone who even remotely knows me (just ask my colleague, and our resident heartthrob and hero Gilderoy Lockheart, he’ll be more than happy to testify on my part, free of charge), I was indeed born under the sign of justice and all things beautiful. Though it is no secret amongst the world I love to see the sublime in all things around me, I am a very fair person, that I am. In fact, I would never do something unjust, like betray a colleague or steal a friend’s boyfriend. Dear readers, I know, just about now you’re wondering ‘who would do that?’, and to that I reply, ‘the things you see in the world’! Though thinking about it, wouldn’t that make a beautiful article? “Scandal Sheets; Cheats of Diagon Alley”. I can see it, and maybe you all shall next week, if you little miscreants behave. Anyways, enough sidetracking. I also have the brilliant sign of the lion, Leo, placed in my moon. This is maybe self-explanatory, I never shy from a party (in fact you might want to check out the top 10 party events that have shocked the streets themselves that came out in the Scandal Sheets two weeks ago). Besides, with great hair like mine, could you expect anything less than the king of the savannah? Finally, my dearies, I have a lovely Aquarius rising to finish the lot in greatness. That’s where I get my creative side from, if I might say. I was once told that Aquarius risings have peculiar eyes that look almost like they’re straight out a dream. Let me tell you, I definitely agree, though maybe those dreams might have been nightmares; up to you my dear readers to make a conclusion on that…

Next order of business. When I was eleven, like most of you reading this, I stepped into Ollivanders for my very own wand. Now, let’s be honest,  Garrick is… interesting, if not to say absolutely crazy. But, as they say, all artists have something missing in their heads, am I right?  That being said, I was first handed a horrendous red wand (that had no beauty or style, might I say), which of course ended in disaster for all parties concerned. But then, there it was, the beautiful instrument that would become my lifelong partner. I held it in my hand and knew we'd make a fine pair indeed. Its wood is Maple, with a brown hilt and beige end; very fashionable. Garrick Ollivander mumbled something about Maple wands favoring ambitious magic users, which I am, no surprise here. Pleasantries aside, my wand also happens to have a unicorn hair core. It’s always been reliable, and by reliable I mean that it almost seems that that little unicorn hair inside of my wand can just about read my mind to perform each magic trick I attempt exactly the way I planned it out, except for that one time near the Slytherin dungeons which I will not expand on further. Finally, my wand is unbending, much like my moral compass that is nevertheless hardly ever changing! Oh yes- how could I forget? It is also a formidable 11 ½ inches, which is no tell on the length of my personality, no matter what that Ollivander might say. Between us, sometimes I wonder how sane that man is. Sometimes I even wonder if there is any sense to his words, I’m pretty sure he babbles whatever comes to his mind when giving his ‘opinion’ about wands.

Tell me, dear reader, have you ever been in love? Or more like, have you ever wondered what it was that you truly loved? Well, if you’re anything like me that answer has in fact been answered in our dear Professor Slughorn’s classroom in sixth year. Horace has always been so generous to us when we were students wasn’t he? In my time at Hogwarts, he’d offered a vial of Liquid Luck, free of charge, to whomever made the best Amortentia potential. Now, between us, I’ve always believed Horace had been able to afford doing such things because of his little undeclared side business, but that’s besides the point. I personally did brilliantly at the brewing of that potion, but some little Slytherin teachers’ pet swabbed the prize right out of me. I can remember it as clearly as today’s lunch. Some lovesticken girl had commented on her potion smelling the same as me (can you blame her?), and the weasel flattered his way into Slughorn’s good graces. Either way, I remember smelling the faint smell of champagne, freshly printed press paper, and the mysterious fruity scent I wasn’t quite able to place. Now the first two are absolutely obvious; I love the night scene, and the press will always stay my true love, but let me tell you that I have no idea what that strawberry, or was it lemon (?), scent was doing here. Maybe should you keep posted on Skeeter Scandals we’ll find out together… 

Tell me, dear reader, what are you the most afraid of? Is it a flying monster, or your lover finding out about your wife (let me tell you, there are plenty of affairs going on in our small London, perhaps all these secrets will be revealed soon enough…)? Personally, I’ve only encountered Boggarts twice; once in class, and once a few months ago in an attic. Both took the shapes of huge snakes (horrifying!!!). I hate snakes so much, they’re terrifying, especially when they attempt to hurt you knowing fully that you have no actual ill will for them. But as they say, boys will be boys, and snakes… will be snakes.

Finally, our last little Rita secret of the day shall be perhaps of our must desired ones. Yes, my dears, I am just about to reveal, free of charge, my most wonderful patronus. Now, like most of you would expect, I can most definitely make a corporeal patronus, are we surprised though? Its form is actually a fox, like little sly me.  When casting the charm, I usually think of my lovely mother, or how successful I’ve become (thanks to the help of all my lovely readers - of course). The spell has never failed, trust me. The fox that comes out if very cheeky actually, he (I like to think he’s a he) always hops around me, as if trying to keep me safe from absolutely everything, how cute.

Well my little rascals, seems like this is the end of our time together, though I had so much fun revealing all my own little secrets with you. Perhaps we might do this with some other wizards, I’m sure our local celebrity Mr.Lockheart would revel in such an interview, free of charge. That being said, thank you for reading, and don’t forget to send me all your secret suspicions on my personal owl post box at the Daily Prophet.                                     Your Favorite Gossip Queen, Rita Skeeter.

SIDE NOTES (NOT ARTICLE) - BOGGART

For her own sake, Rita would never admit what her worst fear is; she’s way too proud and secretive for that, and she wouldn’t want the likes of Emma figuring out what it is in fear of the girl just straight up torturing her with it. She wouldn’t put it past her. So for the article she lied and made up something about ‘snakes’ (which gave her the opportunity to take a stab at Emma on the side). She doesn’t actually fear snakes, just doesn’t love them. Her biggest fear is rather failure, and seeing herself be shunned from the wizarding world, and most importantly the press world. She’s so incredibly proud of the progress she’s made in the Daily Prophet, and acquiring her own segment is a  dream come true, having it taken away would be horrifying.

Also her patronus isn’t a corporal, and even less so a fox. No, she can barely produce a patronus charm, let alone having it take a shape. Besides, if it did have a shape, it would be a beetle, of course.

Writing Sample: Please provide us with at least 3 paragraphs in third person from the perspective of your character.

PURE ANGST, nothing else.

The world stopped. Or maybe this wasn’t a good way to phrase it. Rita Skeeter’s world stopped, and the seven shots of tequila she’d had with her friends were definitely not helping her make sense of it all. Rita wasn’t a lightweight, far from it. She was used to drinking at parties, and finding out exactly what she needed to know for her blog. But somehow, what she’d just seen was making every fiber of her brain swing, causing her to grab on the nearest thing she could find for balance, which just happened to be the bar. She stood, dumbfounded. Clearly her mind was playing a trick on her? Or maybe this was some sort of cruel joke, and everyone would just stop what they were doing to yell “GOT YOU!!” and everything would be okay. But that’s not what was happening, and deep down, even before she got confirmation, Rita knew the truth. Her best friend, right in front of her, was kissing her boyfriend. Rita’s eyes went fuzzy before the tears started swelling, and the shock on her face only grew as she saw Emma stare right at her mid-kiss. She needed to get out, and get out now. Running out of the party, her coat in hand, Rita headed to a nearby alleyway, sitting on the ground as she let the events catch up to her. As she realized what this meant, that Emma had betrayed her in such a manner, she let out an ear piercing scream, the tears now flooding her cheeks. She stayed like this for a while, choking on her own tears, barely being able to breathe, hidden in that little street. It was a dirty street too, probably as dirty as it had been centuries ago, but she couldn’t even bring herself to care about that. She couldn’t bring herself to think about anything but her.

 Finally, after a few minutes, she managed to calm her breathing, steadying herself against the wall as she whipped her face clean. She stayed like this for a few seconds, regaining control of herself, before she apparated in front of her home. Still shaking, she attempted to unlock her door, keeping at it for a good minute before she broke down again, sliding against the door and starting to sob all over again. She’d never seen herself be such a mess. No, Rita was confident, a force to be reckoned with, yet right now she was a babbling mess who could barely stand up. It took the woman another ten minutes to get the courage to pull out her wand and utter a broken ‘Alohomora’, the spell failing twice before she finally unlocked her door. When she was in, she simply threw her things to the ground, dashing to the bathroom. Staring at herself, she barely recognised the girl staring in the mirror. Mascara running, red nose, and tearful eyes, Rita would never have guessed such a thing would affect her so much. Slowly, she took off the purple dress she’d worn, a dress Emma had gifted her, she realized, looking at it when she’d put on the floor. Seeing it, something else grew upon her. Resentment, disbelief, and anger. The little bitch. The jealous little bitch. Rita knew what this was. Emma was jealous and  taking what little she could steal. She couldn’t handle Rita’s success and popularity, so she’d done the petty thing. She still couldn’t believe it though. Why? After all these years being as close as sisters, why? She was getting angrier by the second, and grabbing her wand, she yelled out ‘INCENDIO’. She watched the dress burn, as well as any love she could have had for Emma. At this point, she didn’t care about her boyfriend - or more like ex-boyfriend now - she cared about how her best friend had stabbed her in the back.

Yet, as it burned, Rita couldn’t help but let the tears flow again. They were tears of anger this time. Of anger, disappointment, and still, nevertheless, of sadness. She wanted to break something, but she felt too weak to do anything. A few minutes later, as she watched the flames stop burning, she felt the wave of exhaustion pick her up. She wanted the day to end. So, still in her underwear, not bothering to take off her makeup, she drifted to her bed, not even going under the covers as she cried herself to sleep.