#we love men of all shapes and sizes in this house

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Edited a bit BC this can apply well beyond straight guys or women:

Me with my elvish Vulcan space prince:

(I feel so seen)

[soberpluto]

Astrology Observations - Rising Signs & Planets

Cancer rising as a parent unintentionally will tend to impose their upbringing's rules and traditions unto their household, and if these are discarded or not followed, they can get pretty upset or offended (they won't tell you this, tough), because attempting to organize and structure the life of their loved ones is one of the strongest ways to show their tenderness and care. This is especially true in routines related to food and family time.

Saturn rising, particularly in Capricorn (and to a lesser degree in the other earth signs) gives amazing bone structure, pretty teeth and refined face shape (well-sculpted cheekbones). They are likely not ones who have experienced broken bones in their childhoods. Depending on the ASC sign, Saturn here may also cause short stature and a sturdy anatomy.

Gemini risings often possess appealing and vibrant gesticulations, beautiful and elongated hands, feet and limbs, a unique tone of voice and a ridiculously contagious smile or laughter. On the flipside (sorry to say this), many of them are very good liars and tricksters, as their high intellect quickly figures out what you want to hear and see in them.

A secret us Scorpio rising folks don't what you to know is that whenever we are interested in you, our eyes will give us away rather easily. We'll hardly confess our feelings until much later, if at all, but if you feel under a microscope in our presence (if you are subject of our involuntarily eerie and soul-piercing gaze), you should know we really like you. You might as well think we hate or despise you... but it's completely the opposite!

Leo risings have gorgeous thick and voluminous hair, usually on the wavy side. They love to buy nice things that draws attention to them, as they enjoy standing out of the crowd even if they are more on the reserved or introverted side of the spectrum. They really don't mind spending their money on costly clothes, makeup or jewelry if they think that makes them more beautiful, even if it actually damages their finances. They love to select and buy gifts too!

Jupiter rising can exaggerate your rising sign's ruling body parts. For example, in Cancer: large boobs or wide thorax / in Taurus: wide and sensuous lips / in Libra: beautiful face, amazing skin and voluminous butt, etc. Unfortunately, Jupiter rising folks can also get overweight super easily.

Mercury ruling risings (including Mercury 1st house and Venus in Gemini) usually make the native look younger than they really are. They also have something really noticeable about their walk... from clumsy to swift, all styles will differ, but they will move in ways that are out of the ordinary, for some reason.

Mars ruling risings NEED some sort of intense physical activity to be balanced, if not, they can literally go crazy due to all their bottled-up anger and restless energy. That's why many of them have a knack for the military, gym or sports, not only because they are good at them, but because this eases their stress in a way nothing else can. And yes, sex is included too.

Water risings, particularly Pisces (including Neptune and Moon in 1st house/conjunct ASC) have the most mesmerizing stare. It doesn’t matter their size or form, their gaze is otherworldly, ethereal, and somehow hypnotic. Water rising souls speak through their eyes, and I’m in love with that.

A Mars rising man can be mistaken for a f*ck boy much easier than other placements, especially if they have Air or Fire in 1st house. Women with this placement have huge sex appeal too, but they tend to attract a lot of envy and rivalry from other females, as their personality is perceived as confrontational and aggressive, even if they don’t act that way. This configuration gives good results when they work with men, but not so much with women.    

Thanks for reading! 😘

Written by @soberpluto

Book readings here! https://starintuitivehealing.etsy.com

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Can we give it up for guys with hair like Hobie please?

Can we get a round of applause for the black men in the chat with freeform locs? Or unkempt dreads? Or thick unlocked afros?

Because there's something we need to talk about -

Hobie's Hair: Representation, Reality, and Internalized Racism within Fandom

Here we are again - an essay about Hobie and racism. But this time - it's not coming from outside the house. Oh no, no no no.

The racism is coming from inside the house.

We need to talk about Hobies hair, how we treat black hair as a community, and the deep internalized racism that is revealed when Hobies hair is brought to reality.

[A LONGish essay about Hobie, Race, Hair, and the HEAVY internalized racism towards 4C hair. This essay doesn't explain much about black hair, but it's more a conversation of self-hate and representation]

Like Hobies hair is beautiful and it's genuinely heartbreaking to see so many people in the fandom be like 'yeah I love his hair but I could never date an actual guy with hair like that'

Or cringing at guys with nappy hair, or overall speaking about how off-putting their hair is.

Hobies hair is beautiful, but the amount of people that like it in canon - and only canon - is too high.

They'll say that for some reason, when it comes to real freeform locs - they can't find it attractive. That they for some reason, they still have the idea that people with freeform locs don't - or even can't, wash their hair, even if they know that's not true.

And like.. come on, guys. Come on.

There are actual black men with hair like that. There are HOBIE COSPLAYERS with hair like that.

and they're in the fandom too.

In fact, I'd say a good majority of black men have hair like Hobie - we're just forced to shave it off.

For us, anything longer than a high top that isn't an afro with nice defined curles is considered unruly, unkepted, or outright dirty.

People will just straight up call it dirty or say they don't wash their hair.

Just because their hair looks weird.

Because really that's all it is. It LOOKS WEIRD. And because it looks weird - and because it's something inherently exclusive to black people, it's admonished as being disgusting or ugly.

White men are able to roll out of bed 365 days a year and take a shower, leaving the house with barely even any hair gel.

That's considered normal, average. Boring even.

A black man rolls out of bed the same 365 days, washes his hair the same way, and leaves the house - and he's unkempt.

Why? Because his hair naturally locs up.

And because it locks up, it looks weird, and since it looks weird it's inappropriate for the workplace, it's unattractive, eww do they even wash it?

It's so SAD. Like genuinely sad. Especially in the Hobie fandom.

I think it needs to be highlighted that Hobies hair AREN'T wicks. Wicks are formed using tools. Wicks are locs - but they're manipulated locs. They take styling to look that way.

HOBIES HAIR is freeform. As in, that's just how it grows from it head. That's not a hairstyle like hair spikes, or Gwen's undercut.

That's just his hair.

And it's the only hair type on earth that's ubiquitously known as ugly.

So ugly in fact that men who have it are encouraged to either 1) shave it and maintain that shave at risk of ridicule or 2) invest lots of money and time into maintaining a detangled manicured afro of 'reasonable' size and shape or 3) get it braided and maintain those braids at risk of ridicule- you see where I'm going with this.

For people like me and Hobies, those with 4C hair: We're told quite early, even by the black people around us, that our hair as it is is unpresentable.

We're expected to manipulate and manage our hair every day of our lives, because if we don't, even for a week or two - we're suddenly 'unpresentable', unemployable, and straight up unattractive. Even the sight of our new growth is a sign we need to 'get our hair done'.

For us, hair growth isn't exciting. It's just anther reminder we need to go back to the salon or barbers.

And y'all - it's EXHAUSTING. Physically and mentally exhausting.

That's why Hobie has hair like that.

Because it's exhausting, it's unfair. And it's accepted. Even in this fandom.

Hobie does it because it's not right.

He, as a person, understands that he has a right to exist anywhere he pleases - in his entirety, regardless of how disruptive you see him.

Hobie wears his freeform hair because he doesn't want to physically manipulate his hair - and he doesn't want society to manipulate his hair either.

It's a noble cause.

And you know what, the dudes you see with hair like this - the ones you think might be dirty or ugly - they're wearing it for THE SAME REASON.

The reason men like The Weeknd and Jay-Z chose to wear their hair this way is because they are literally the only black men in society who can wear their hair like that and still keep a job. I'm so serious.

If you are a black man, or a black person in general - you better have 'fuck you' amounts of money if you'd like to have freeform locs.

Because your chances of getting a job hit the floor. The number of people interested in dating you - or even seeing you as attractive, drops like 95%.

All because your natural hair is visible to other people.

And they find that so distracting or so unattractive that it calls your very hygiene - or housing status - into question. (Yes, I have heard people say that they suspect men with freeform hair are wearing it only because they are homeless.)

And now that we have a character like Hobie - this attitude, one that we're all taught, is something we have to face head-on.

Because it fucking SUCKS to be told all your life that your hair is ugly and inherently more dirty than all others to the point that the only option is it's rigorous rearrangement or straight up removal.

And then you get a character like Hobie Brown, such good representation!!!

Only to turn around and see the fandom going 'Yeah, Hobies hot. But guys with hair ACTUALLY like that? Uhhh, no thanks. Sorry, I'll pass. Respectfully, no.'

And you wanna know the most fucked up thing about it? Huh!?

A large portion of the black people - black women in specific - who say they don't find freeform hair attractive, or hair like Hobies attractive -

THEY HAVE HAIR LIKE HOBIES TOO.

So many of y'all who say this would absolutely have hair like Hobies if you didn't detangle it.

The statement in itself - age the critique of freeform hair - is one of self-hate.

So many of the women I see say this have 4c hair themselves.

But because of the stigma and discrimination we received as children, many of us don't even know what our hair looks like unpermed, undamaged, without being detangled once a week.

If you are a black woman and you wouldn't date a guy with hair like this, please candidly ask yourself:

If you didn't detangled your hair for a year - would your hair look like Hobies?

Because I'm pretty sure for a good deal of y'all the answer is yes.

For the majority of us, if we didn't detangle, decondition, oil, cut, or shave our heads - if all we did was wash or hair - we'd have hair like Hobies.

It would stick out and stand up and clump together and that's FINE.

In fact, it's better for your hair.

Ever wonder why we have to moisturize and detangle and condition and use oil treatments and-

Because our hair naturally wants to loc. When it locs like Hobies hair, the oils from the root of your scalp can coat the strands easier, like a rope sucking up water.

A single piece of string can't move or suck up much water. But a thick thick rope can.

Just the same, when your hair is detangled - it's hard for the hair to move or suck up the oil. So it sits on the scalp and builds up. Like a single string.

When your hair is loced, the oils can move from your scalp down (or rather for us, UP) your hair way easier. Like a rope sucking it up.

Making your scalp cleaner, your hair more moisturised and overall more healthy.

At that point, you don't NEED conditioner. Or oil. Or aloe or whatever the hell the beauty supply got.

You just need to wash it, and your locs help regulate your hair. The help keep your oil production even and your hair moisturized.

Because your hair can self regulate. Just like everyone else's.

I'm learning this myself. As someone who just started their semi-freeform locs a couple months ago: My hair is as clean and as soft as it's ever been in my life.

My whole life I thought my hair was oily as fuck.

If I breathed too hard I'd get build up. Parting my hair physically hurt and almost ever hair style I ever tried was sensory hell. I'd shaved my head 8 years back and have kept it low for that long, simply because dealing with my actual hair was too tedious and painful.

And so I went freeform - because of Hobie.

For the past three months the only thing I've put in my hair is water and shampoo.

Maybe a little salt water if I wanna tighten up the locs a bit. But nothing else.

My hair is cleaner.

It's completely conditioned.

The curls found their own pattern and loced up without me even needing to part my hair. Like my head knew where each loc was gonna go.

Honestly, I barely worry about it anymore. In fact, if I don't touch my hair every other day or so, just lightly touching each loc end - the locs would combine more, getting thicker, and then I'd REALLY have hair like Hobies.

And my hair looks a fucking mess.

That's the hardest part now - not dealing with my hair. Dealing with people who see my hair.

I've learned idea that locs are inherently more dirty or harder to clean is actually the opposite of reality.

Detangled hair is absolutely harder to clean and maintain.

The reason detangled hair takes so long to manage is because you strip the oils off the scalp because it can't get down the strands of hair. Since every strand is separated, the oil just sticks to the scalp. So you wash it out.

But now that you've got no oil your hair and scalp is dry so now you need conditioner. But conditioner isn't enough. You need oil. But oil can cause buildup too so maybe use pink gel. But pink gel is too processed so do a hair mask- ETC ETC ETC for forever and ever and ever.

All because we are always, without break, fighting against our hairs natural instinct to loc.

Why? Because it looks weird. Because we are so used to constantly treating and cleaning and managing our hair that a lot of us genuinely believe that if we were to stop for even a month our hair would become ratty, smelly, matted messes no matter how much we showered.

At least that's what I believed.

But if we let ourselves and our hair be - in reality, both us and our hair becomes stronger, more healthy, and less stressed.

That's why so many people call it a Locs JOURNEY. Cause it truly is a journey of self-care, and unlearning self-admonishing ideas about our bodies and hair.

We as black people - like everyone on this Earth - have hair genetically evolved to manage itself on a reasonable level.

The amount of labor and thought that black people are required to put into their hair on top of that - even when it's 'NATURAL' - is not reasonable.

That's why there will be people in the natural hair community, with natural hair - who still think freeforms are ugly and nasty because they themselves choose to detangle and condition and the works to their hair. Even people with manicured locs believe this.

Because there is the believe that healthy black hair = lots of black labor. And they value natural hairstyles that require more labor.

Many don't believe that black people can have natural and healthy hair with minimal work - just like every other race.

But it's true. It's just so happens that when it does, it 'looks weird'.

And when it comes to Hobie - it kills me to see this.

To see people consuming Hobies messages of punk and politics, but never of race. His racial solidarity and displays of blackness.

Even us as a black community.

GAH sometimes I feel like he'd hear the stuff some people say about freeforms and be like

Hell, Hobie would hear that shit ALL THE TIME.

I imagine it really really hurts to see a character that represents a part of you often demonized and discredited - only to turn around and see the fans of said character still think what he's representating is nice in theory, but ugly in practice.

Especially if you're say.. A Hobie cosplayer.

Hobie wears his hair that way because it's his hair - it's not a hairstyle - is anything it's the opposite. And it has a right to exist.

That's the reason why Rastafarians wear locs - freeform locs. Not because they're hippies. Because they love the black form and allow their bodies to grow and manifest in the world without unnecessary manipulation from outside forces - including themselves.

Their hair is their hair. And it has the right to exist as much as any other part of their body.

For Hobie and the real-life men and women who have this hair it's a concious social risk that effects almost every aspect of their life from work to romance, friendships, who will sit next you on the bus and who'll avoid the hell outta you for no reason.

And they do it out of love for themselves and the beauty of black hair.

And because of that, they are considered less attractive, less clean, less 'normal'.

To black people with freeform hair I love you. To the black people with hair like Hobies: Your hair isn't ugly. You aren't dirty.

You're resilient and confident as hell and the realest mfers on earth.

If you're considering getting locs or going freeform. Do it. Absolutely do it. If you want proof you can be cute as hell with freeforms check out this YouTuber named DomiBoy.

He makes videos documenting his locs journey. He has Congos, which are very very similar to freeform. He makes great videos plus he's adorable and funny okay

If you're a black person without locs or freeforms, please - question what your hair would look like if you didn't manipulate it.

Have you ever gone a period in your life where you haven't detangled, conditioned, parted, braided, gelled, permed your hair etc?

What do you think it would look like if you didn't? How do you think people would treat you?

How do you feel about your hair when your roots grow out? Or your braids get loose? Do you know what your hair looks like untouched?

Question what do you think of freeforms? And why do you think that?

No matter who you are, you should ask yourself -

If a guy said he found curly hair ubiquitously ugly, and questioned if curly haired people were clean, wouldn't it be odd and messed up?

Have I heard myself or others refer to 4c locced hair as ugly? Or questioned their hygiene?

Do I think freeform loced black hair is ugly? Would I date someone with this hair? Why or why not?

Start a discussion with yourself.

As someone with 4c hair and starting a loc journey, I feel like this had to be said. Because it's something that affects and influences a lot of us.

There has beauty in Hobie and there is beauty in black hair. We just have to unlearn a lot of things to see it.

Anyway Hobies hair is hot. Freeforms are hot. I love black people. The end

[luveline]

i love the idea of Eddie in the zombie au!!!! i think you've mentioned the reader being rougher/tougher in this one and maybe they meet already in the campus or sometime on the road but r has been on their own for a while and Eddie is like the first person they can rely on in some time??

thank you for your request!! i apologise I wrote this as fem!reader before I realised you said ‘they’ later on, so if that isn’t okay with you please let me know/ send another request! <3

Eddie's trying not to stare at you, but he finds you attractive in the awe-striking way. You're ignoring his staring, crouched down by the crate beside him, counting cans under your breath. 

"Seventy two," you say. "How many did you say we needed to eat every day, Eds?"

You really shouldn't call him Eds. You're giving him a you-shaped complex, what with your nice smile (though he doesn't get to see it all the time) and your quite frankly distracting muscles. You're tougher than Eddie by far. He can't believe he had to end up in the middle of the apocalypse to find his dream girl, but here you are. 

"Eddie," you say, nudging him. "What was the math?" 

"Well, calorific intake wise, uh… it's twenty five hundred for men and twenty for women, but that didn't feel fair. It depends on what's in the cans–" 

"You said all this already," you say, "could I get the short answer?" 

"Like, three if we want to stay healthy-ish. Three each, so six a day." 

"Awesome. Twelve days, then." 

"But I think we should eat two. You know, insurance until we can go back for that second crate." 

You sit down on your ass heavily. "Okay, awesome. When are we going back? Tonight?" 

"You have a sprained wrist." 

You roll it in his face. "This old thing? She's fine." 

"It's not fine. Your wrist was the size of a coconut three days ago."

"Eddie, you treat me like a baby," you say. 

You stretch out onto his sheets and his twin mattress on the floor, which is great, he can't wait for the agony of being able to smell you tonight on his pillow, he really can't. You've taken your shoes off for once, three pairs of socks to your calves over your jeans like a weirdo and two t-shirts worn as though that's a regular thing to do. You haven't once needed Eddie's help since he found you, nor has he really needed yours, but you've looked out for him without complaint, sharing your food, letting him follow you from place to place. 

He thinks, despite your tougher persona, that you quite like the company. You like him, which is brilliant, because Eddie's lowkey planning your wedding in his head. Something classy, barefoot on the beach maybe, he won't wear a suit (when would he ever) and you probably wouldn't want to wear a white dress, but he's sure there's something you'd like. 

"You have your head in the clouds again," you say. 

"No," he denies. 

He lays back on your mattress and tries to move aside your dirty t-shirt without chasing a fuss. You're not shy about privacy, as in, you don't want any. Obviously you don't force him to bear all nor do you force him to see anything he doesn't want to see, but it's been a shock sometimes to turn around and find you've taken off your shirt to lounge in your bra. The summer heat is disgusting, layer thick and suffocating as insulation no matter how many windows you risk opening in the house above. 

"Don't be mean, tell me what you're thinking about," you say. 

Where to start? Your tight biceps, your theoretical wedding, or your shirtlessness? 

"I was thinking we shouldn't bother going back tonight for the second crate. We need to sleep. I need to feel like a normal person." 

"You're far from normal." 

"Says you." 

"If I were a boy," you say, "you wouldn't think anything about it. I'd be super normal." 

"It's not about being a girl," he says, grabbing one of your pillows to throw at you. You grab it quickly and throw it straight back. 

"What is it about, jerk?" you ask. 

"I don't care if you're a girl, I care that you're, like, the bravest person I've ever met." 

"Now I feel bad for chucking a pillow at you." 

"You're really cool. So, can we please go to bed early?" 

"Oh, right. Yeah, swap with me. Sorry if I made your bed smell bad. Tomorrow we need to find some more soap." 

"You don't smell bad," he says. "You know I usually tell you." 

It's not fun or pleasant to run out of deodorant these days. You must keep a small pharmacy in your bag, but soap is on rations. 

"You do tell me. Eddie…" You sit up. "I really don't smell bad?" 

"Not today." 

"I can give you a hug, then?" you ask. 

"Sorry?" 

"Eddie. I've met lots of people since the end of the world," —you sit up on knees, your hands outstretched gently, fingers apart— "like, so many people, but you're the only person I ever stayed with, because you're good, and you're nice. I trust you to take care of me, and I really want to give you a hug." 

"I don't think you need taking care of," he mumbles. 

You shuffle toward him where he hikes on elbows. Without shame, you wrap your arms around him and hug him close. "But if I needed you to, you would… Right?" 

"Right," he says. He starts carefully but his body must realise someone's close, someone who wants to be held, and suddenly he's hugging you tightly, his back straining in the position. He holds you far longer than he should, worried you'll pull away and see his blushing face. "Of course I would. You're the last person I'd imagine needing looking after, but yeah, I'd do it. I'd love to do it."

"Well," you say quietly, adjusting your cheek against his, "what are we going to do about my wrist?" 

"It's hurting, isn't it? I fucking knew it." 

You lean back onto your haunches, laughing. "Like a bitch. Not when you were squeezing it." 

"You need pressure. I'll wrap a bandage around it. You'll be fine in a day or two." 

You stand up in search of the first aid kit no doubt. Eddie smiles like a loon while your back is turned, flustered by your warm hug and soft touches. It was better than he's pictured. He wonders when you'll hug him again. 

"Eddie? I'm really sorry, but you smell bad." 

"Yikes," he says. Kill me now, he thinks. "Thanks for your honesty." 

You laugh. "Welcome." 

[damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog]

Late Victorian British Fun (and not-so-fun) Facts

I thought others might be interested in my list of little things I've learned while researching the 1890s for my fics. This is by no means a list of things you should do when writing! Even I don't follow absolutely every single thing—I like to think wizarding society deviated quite a bit from muggle society, after all. If you wanna use this list as a reference, go ahead, but you should write whatever makes you happy. This is just for fun, and I'll probably end up writing down more stuff as I remember it—this is all just the stuff I could think of from the top of my head. :)

Basics

The Victorian Era was from 1837 to 1901. The era before was called the Regency Era (think Jane Austen) and the era after was the Edwardian Era (think Downton Abbey).

Love and Marriage

Even though the marriage age was lowered significantly in 1823, most girls still got married between ages 18 and 23.

The social season refers to the summer months from May to August in which the middle and upper classes left their country homes and stayed in London to attend social events, following the royal family. The main purpose was finding someone to marry.

Courtship, the part of a relationship that was most like dating today, only lasted a few months before progressing to being engaged. But it was common for engagement to last much longer. Dating as we know it today wasn't really a thing until after 1900.

Courtship "dates" that weren't in public often consisted of dinner at the woman's house with her parents (private time between the couple was sometimes afforded after dinners).

There was a paradigm shift in attitudes towards marriage; marrying for love became much more common in this era. But marriages were still pragmatic, too! Marriages based purely on love while ignoring the economic and practical aspects were scandalous.

Queen Victoria popularized white wedding dresses as we know them today.

It wasn't until the late Victorian Era that evening weddings became acceptable.

Snakes were a popular motif for engagement rings in the Victorian Era.

Pregnancy and Children

Victorian women were expected to hide all signs of their pregnancy, as it would imply participation in the act required for pregnancy (yeah, lol).

Husbands weren't allowed to be around for the actual act of childbirth, and it was advised he only stay around for 5 minutes afterward.

Anesthesia was first administered in the mid-1800s.

Fathers were often very involved in their children's lives, contrary to popular opinion.

Teenagers haven't changed much since the Victorian Era—our MCs weren't the only troublemakers. :)

Clothing, Personal Care and Fashion

Eyebrows came in all shapes and sizes; no one style appears to have been particularly coveted. The only exception was an aversion to unibrows.

Natural beauty was the name of the Victorian game. As such, makeup was very un-virtuous and was reserved for prostitutes and actors.

That doesn't mean people didn't use any products, however! Salves for the lips, as well as powders and rouges, started becoming popular towards the end of the era.

Perfumes and colognes were kept subtle, but floral scents were very popular amongst both men and women. Again, emphasizing the natural state of the body was seen as very virtuous.

Shapewear was just as popular back then as it is today. Adding or taking away layers of women's undergarments depended on the effect one wanted to have.

Men's undergarments were much simpler, usually consisting of cotton drawers and a long-sleeved undershirt.

Shorter skirts were appropriate for young girls, but as a girl got older, her skirts generally got longer.

School was still relatively uncommon for girls through the end of the era, but school uniforms for girls generally included aprons to protect their clothes.

Very long hair was desirable for Victorian women and was considered very feminine, but wearing that hair loose was not respectable. Bangs (fringes) weren't very popular.

The 1890s introduced the Gibson Girl look that would carry through the Edwardian Era.

Women wearing trousers was not as uncommon as one might think!

Bathing at least once a day was considered essential, but showering was not yet a thing.

Games, Leisure and Sports

Parlour games were very popular with adults at parties. Charades was an especially prevalent game.

Board games were also very popular for both children and adults.

Football (not American football!) became very popular in the Victorian Era amongst men. Croquet was the game of choice for women.

Cemeteries were popular picnicking spots and were more like sculpture gardens than grim reminders of death.

Food and Cooking

Honestly just go watch English Heritage's Victorian videos for an idea of the recipes and foods that were common back then lol. Mrs. Crocombe is a gem.

Breakfast was often a major event for wealthy Victorian Britons.

Ok that's all I can think of for now. I'm sure there's way more I'm missing. If I can come up with enough, I'll do another post at some point lol. Enjoy!

[acourtofthought]

Feyre and Nesta hated how their father handled things and because of that they did not have much love for their father who was not a "fighter". As a result they chose his opposite when it came to who they ended up with, they chose two impressive warriors.

"How you were treated by your father as you were growing up helps shape your view of men in general and what you expect of them"

Compared to her sisters, Elain did love her father and it seems his gentle nature was something she latched on to.

"he was smiling mildly at his beloved Elain, the only one of us who bothered to really speak to him at all."

My father smiled freely, laughed readily, and doted on Elain, who in turn doted on him.

My father murmured his praises to Elain, who beamed at him and rested her head on his shoulder.

When depressed her father turned inward and shut down, not entirely different from how both Elain and Lucien have processed their past traumas though I will say Lucien definitely does not like to sit idle.

When happy, Elain's father smiled freely and laughed readily (similar to the Lucien we saw in book 1 and the Lucien we got hints of once he left Spring - he's not fully himself yet but it's easy to see who he is when not dealing with the all the heaviness).

And her father was business savvy to a certain extent:

I spied my father hunched over his desk, a little scale before him as he weighed an uncut ruby the size of a duck’s egg. He was clear-eyed again, and moved with a sense of purpose, of vibrancy, that I hadn’t seen since before the downfall.

“I’m thinking of buying the Beddor land,” my father was saying to Elain, who was the only one of us listening to him. “I heard a rumor it’ll go up for sale soon, since none of the family survived, and it would be a good investment property. Perhaps one of you girls might build a house on it when you’re ready.” Elain nodded interestedly,

The only reason his hand was forced with the three ships at the start of the series was because of bad deals made by the three generations before him.

Elain never seemed to care that he did not fight for them in the cottage, seemed to hang on to his words when he spoke of business deals and only ever seemed to desire his affection. To her, that was enough.

So it's worth paying attention to how SJM made sure to continue drawing even more parallels between Lucien and Papa Archeron:

Elain's first real love (her father), the man she held in high regard, and her mate share a way with words and intelligence.

And just as her father was very open with his affection and praise for Elain, SJM has written Lucien to share that characteristic as well. He was soothing and comforting with Feyre when he thought she had a nightmare and is complimentary of his female friends, always speaking highly of them.

I like how she's basically taken Elain and said, "I see your stubbornness when it comes to the mating bond but I'm going to literally make it impossible for you to not fall for Lucien in the end because I'm going to write him to be everything you respect and desire AND he's going to share a bond with the first man you ever loved."

That last part is huge because Elain can't talk to anyone else about her father without it bringing up negative emotions for them.

In Lucien (and even Vassa), SJM has given Elain another person who she can fondly remember her father with as they too share in those similar memories.

This post was inspired by @lorcanisdabest recent post:

[niqaboy]

a long list of reasons i love my niqab and abaya

first and foremost, it is what makes me feel closest to Allah. i am in a constant state of worship when i am wearing my veil. i even wear it in the house.

i feel so incredibly protected. i know i sometimes am actually putting myself at risk wearing my abaya and veil, but regardless, there is such a safe feeling when i wear it

nobody! knows! the! shape! or! size! of! my! body!

the genderfuckery of it all. im a boy in a girl way and a girl in a boy way and my gender and faith are so incredibly intertwined.

its fun to play around with different color combinations and styles! i genuinely find it to be like. a fun little challenge to see how i can style something different about my look every day. like an online dress up game where you drag and drop the clothes onto a static doll. yes i am autistic why do you ask

on the note of gender again, it really helps me connect with the girl part(s) of my identity, something i had suppressed for a long time in trying to fit in with other trans men (a note here: don't really consider myself a trans man anymore. only label im using is boydyke currently. it fits like nothing else ever has)

i won't lie! i feel really beautiful! and i like feeling beautiful!

warmb. roast me like a chicken i love the heat. you can catch me wearing layers in the summer. yes i am anemic why do you ask

this is very specific but babies and little kids LOVE IT. especially when i'm wearing jersey fabric. so many are very curious and like to play with the fabric! have gotten slobbered on plenty of times. this is okay. they are children

sensory heaven. i am in my own little bubble and most people dont even look at me let alone speak to me. those who do are usually muslim themselves and will greet me warmly, because like, that's what we do!

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

Us-the-voices intro card!

this is a work in progress but currently it will house the tags we use, our DNI, and alter intros and a couple other fun things!

——————⭐️🦀SIDE BLOGS🦀⭐️————

@us-the-voices-xenogender-blog

A blog for all things blinkies, xenogenders and pixel art

——————🛑‼️WARNING‼️🛑—————

THIS BLOG CONTAINS BLINKING, FLASHING, EYESTRAIN AND OTHER PHOTOSENSITIVE THINGS! PLEASE BE SAFE, WE WILL TRY TO TAG AS MUCH AS WE CAN BUT IT WILL SLIP THROUGH. PLEASE ONLY LOOK AT TEXT POST FROM US, IF YOU HAVE EPILEPSY BECAUSE I CANNOT GUARANTEE THIS BLOG IS SAFE

this blog talks about mature topics! Such as Sexual abuse, death, trauma, child abuse, ableism, sexism, racism, police brutality, some really depressing environmental issues, homophobia, transphobia, queerphobia, gore, capitalism, and MORE!

so please consider this your warning!

———————⚠️ DNI ⚠️—————————

Terfs/radfems, transphobes/queerphobes, (I have had enough of you. Why do you have to be so awful Jesus, it’s not like awful people don’t come in all shapes, sizes, races, and genders. I ain’t defending awful people. But trans people just exist and I believe in judging people on a person to person basis. I don’t think you are bad I just want you to shut up about it, I’ll always be loudly supportive of trans people and loudly a feminist too. So deal with it! Also I don’t hate men, why would i??? So shush)

ableists/sanists (like the people who discriminate against mentally ill people),

animal abusers/people who spread misinformation about animals and animal care, (I hope you stub your toes)

syscourse (yeah I don’t ever want to engage in it idc shut up this blog is about literally everything else BUT that.),

bad faith gender/other Identities (E.G BLM gender, transabled, ect.)

racists/xenophobes/antisemites, misogynists.

non-binary exclusionists.

pro-censorship people.

anti-therians/otherkin, (if you are it’s not a deal breaker lol, it’s just some of us are therian/otherkin due to plurality)

only NSFW blogs (like if you occasionally post NSFW your okay, if it’s less than 50% nsfw your fine on this blog lol),

MAP’s AND PEDO’s and people who like l*licon/sh**tacon (fuck off and stay off) (sorry I am actually anti censorship but following our most recent ban I’m being more “careful” when mentioning these topics so sorry)

Dream Stans (yeah I fucking hate that guy, I like MCYT but dream and co can stay off of here REAL) (I have always hated him and I will continue to, fuck off dream Stan’s),

anti-good faith xenogenders (yeah so what if the term xeno-identities is more the “right” term idgaf! I literally have no qualms nor problems with xenogenders, in my mind it makes sense because gender is a social construct and so why not have fun with it?)

And more to be added :)

WE ALSO BELIEVE PEOPLE CAN CHANGE AND GROW, AND HATE IS LEARNED SO IF YOU WERE ONE OF THESE THINGS IN THE PAST AND HAVE NOW REFORMED I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT YOU!

——————————- ALTER INTROS —————————————

Now expanded in our tumblr page!

Pop (hi I’m pop, I’m usually the one on here when it’s not everyone else. If you see me more than usual it means LIFE happened. I’m technically host? But me, Lena, And poppie kinda share that role. They/them he/him)

poppie (cat girl, you see her a lot on here. She’s SUPER into the veganism scene and animal rights and is a cat-therian lol we all love her she’s the best. She/her any cat neopronouns actually.)

Lena (demon, yeah she’s a demon! She’s nonsense hardworking and in the demonkin/otherkin scene. She/her)

belle (psychology nerd, actually knows how to write ANYTHING is honestly the best. She/her)

————————————. Tags ————————————————-

#Anticapitalism stuff (a tag that argues against capitalism, and trashing multinational corporations and a bit of environmental stuff.)

#anarchism stuff (a tag for all things anarchism)

#art stuff (a tag for stuff related to the ethics, discussion, or making of art.)

#music stuff (for all things music and music theory!)

#tv and movie stuff (the tag for film and television, kinda fun kinda sad! It’s good tho)

#anti-censorship stuff (a tag for anti-censorship stuff, and why it’s important!)

#trans stuff (a tag for all things trans! Includes dark topics, mostly happy stuff tho.)

#queer stuff (a tag for all things LGBTQIA+, mostly happy but with triggering and dark topics.)

#mental health stuff (A tag for all things mental health, let it be help or just memes or darker topics.)

#mental illness stuff (a tag for specifically mental illnesses, like anxiety or depression or whatever usually REALLY dark but sometimes happy usually dark tho.)

#veganism stuff (a tag for all things vegan, not recipes just ethics and whatever. I [pop] don’t usually add to it but poppie does ALL THE TIME.)

#disability (for all things disability, let it be activism stuff, vents, information, or just funny stuff! It’s a tag I tend to use for myself because fun fact I [pop] am not okay! Health wise lol.)

#punk stuff (A tag for all things punk, let it be C-punk, madpunk, neuropunk or whatever! It’s a tag for all things punk! Including art, crafts, sewing and punk beliefs and politics I love punks I am not really one due to a whole lotta reasons but I love them so much <3 )

#environmentalism stuff (Climate change, mass extinctions, greedy corporations and politicians, animal rights, and more stuff. Mostly climate/animal related but intersects with disability stuff, anarchism stuff, activism stuff, and veganism and punk stuff. Fun fact these types of things are extremely intersectional but are never presented as such due to infighting!)

#healthcare stuff (The weird tag related to health and healthcare, not a disability tag, not a environmentalism tag literally health and healthcare which is weird. Mostly PSA’s)

#animal care stuff (For all things animal care, I disagree with veganism’s doctrine here. Keeping Some animals and keeping animals can be done well and awesomely and help petstore and wild animals, but people who do animal care just absolutely trash just don’t deserve anything or anyone. It’s a fine line, but I genuinely believe if you take good care of your animals and give them an amazing quality of life I genuinely don’t see a problem with keeping animals.)

#animal abuse stuff (Goes hand in hand with animal care stuff, it’s pretty bad at times, it is what it says on the tin. Mostly also animal care stuff.)

#child abuse stuff (For stories, children’s rights, or experiences. It’s pretty dark.)

#youth liberation (for youth liberation stuff, it’s important honestly.)

#children's rights (A tag for all things children’s rights it’s super cool!)

#homelessness stuff (a tag related to homelessness and just all the things that come with it, it’s a dark tag. Sometimes happy.)

#uhoused stuff (Same same but different, more related to cost of living crisis’s and capitalism then disenfranchisement and outright just the sad reality that is being mentally ill and homeless or a substance abuser and homeless or trans/queer and homeless or any other absolutely insane and awful reason people are homeless.)

#communism stuff (For all things communist, I don’t super believe it will fix anything and it is kinda extremely hard to get rid of monetary currency. But communism, socialism, anarchism, and punk theory are all connected in ways and have some BASED ideas and principles. So yeah that’s why it’s tagged on here!)

#socialism stuff (I actually do believe socialism can work, it’s definitely not the end all be all of ways to govern/live life but I think it’s a good stepping stone to all different wonderful things that can change the world for the better, usually the CIA/FBI/US government appears a lot in this tag due to reasons that will become apparent. But it’s a fun one!)

#fat stuff (A tag about fatphobia, diet culture, ableism and just annoying stuff about being fat lol. Mostly medical negligence and malpractice because holy shit fuck is it bad in this tag. Also Eating disorders are talked about in every post in one way or another, it’s a big problem. Dark tag.)

#religion stuff (A thing for all things religion, it’s basically every criticism and deep cut anyone and everyone has on every single religion, which yk obviously no one literally agrees with anything. It’s mostly everyone going “QUEER/TRANS/DISABLED/WOMEN/“SINNERS” DONT DESERVE THIS TREATMENT IT MAKES NO SENSE!” Other religions “NO THEY DO” and it’s actually very well written and argued for. Also atheism is talked about a lot too, it’s mostly like a deep philosophical and ethical debate that has spanned literally everything and everywhere where it’s all boiled down to “yeah some fuckers deserve prison, but the average normal guy kinda just exists we guess??? Religious or not???? And there’s kinda nothing wrong with it but we would rather them be religious in some way????” And that is still the shittyist summary ever too. But it’s the gist of this tag. Also memes!)

(and where I put all stuff related to religion it’s very much a mixed bag i’m not making fun of anyone actually it’s that there is genuinely too much variety in this tag to accurately tell you what’s in there. It’s everything related to religion all religions!)

#autism stuff (Specifically for autistic stuff, it’s used from time to time.)

#activism stuff (a tag for all things ally posting, and human/animal/land/just everything rights. It’s fun!)

#food stuff (A tag about all things food related, sometimes recipes sometimes diet culture and why it’s bad. Sometimes it’s just cultural things related to food. Food is a big topic LOL)

#comics and book stuff (a tag about all things comics, books, and written works.)

#tv and movie stuff or #film and tv (a tag about all things TV and film, let it be discussion, gifs, or videos or fun facts.)

#neurodivergent stuff (For all things neurodivergent! Fun stuff, kinda happy kinda dark. Intersects with mental health stuff and mental illness stuff and disability tags. Because like why wouldn’t it???)

#animals (yes just for animals, nice calm usually no triggering animal stuff. It’s just cuteness usually! Unless I put something dark in there then sorry.)

#too queue for school (A tag for all queued stuff I remember to tag! Usually wholesome most times not. But it’s just a fun “today’s thing queued!” Thing if I’m not online.)

—————————————- Our post tags —————————————

#us-the-voices Cooks (a tag for recipes, food we make, and random cooking tips???)

#us-the-voices reviews (a tag for all things reviews! Let it be movies, shows, games, art, books, fanfics, whatever!)

#us-the-voices talks (A tag for like personal affairs? Or just “haha update stuff went DOWN in our personal lives” or just general chatting with mutuals who knows I haven’t decided yet.)

#us-the-voices recommends (weird tag for all weird recommendations of shows/books/tv/fanfic/movies it’s there it’s weird and if your bored and want something to do maybe you’ll like it lol.)

#us-the-voices rants (a tag for rants, don’t take them seriously it’s usually momentarily sad/existential/angry/fed up/annoyed/trauma dump RANTS. suggest you just block the tag lol, I will probably make half of these while I’m unwell and sick or just stressed and under all sorts of stress. So honestly it’s just a tag so you guys don’t have to deal with it because I will eventually be stupid on the internet and I’d rather you understand these are nonsense rants that are just a release of information that’s been annoying us.)

#the voices talk (A tag for talking about alters or specific things some alters want to talk about but not all.)

#poppie weblogs (poppies tag for her stuff, it literally has everything in it.)

and more to come!

——— User boxes ———————————

————————————————————————————————-

BLINKIESSSSS

below the cut because they strobe!!!!!

[fluffyprettykitty]

Combo

Pairing: casino owner! Frank Castle, co-owner! Billy Russo x female reader (no other specifications)

Word Count: 2410 words

Outline: You were up no good so now you are getting punished for it. But somehow your evening goes much better than you expected.

Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, pet names (kitty, princess, doll, baby, pretty girl), authority kink, power dynamics/imbalance, finger sucking, thigh riding, degradation kink, praise kink, oral sex (m+f receiving), choking kink (with a belt!), nipple play, face fucking, rough penetrative sex, size kink, mention of double penetration, not beta read!

Author’s Note: I had thought of this all the way back in march but I had been aching to write it lately!

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Billy Russo Masterlist ・❥・Frank Castle Masterlist

NSFW UNDERNEATH THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

"This is what happens to little girls when they are playing dirty." 

You swallow dryly staring at the domineering figure of the man standing in front of you. He is tall and broad, dark set of hair and eyes, with a god-like shaped nose and an extremely alluring aura about him. His suit looks expensive, all black with silver buttons. Bet they are real. 

"What do you have to say for yourself?" His voice is strong and baritone, feels like a graveling vibrating sound. 

You try to open your mouth and speak but it is surprisingly hard for you to do so. He is pulling his chair right in front of you and sits down staring at you. Waiting. You take your time to notice him, notice the size of his thighs, and the size of his muscles. You feel as if you haven’t ever seen a man before. A real masculine man. 

"I am sorry. " You gulp and nod your head. "It won't happen again, it was stupid of me to do that… " 

"Right, right…." He nods his head placing his hand on his subtle and beginning to rub it slowly as in deep thought. 

"But…you still humiliated me out there. One sorry is not going to cut it. People will come here to my casino and think I'm a fool. Do you want people to think I'm a fool?" 

You shake your head negatively. Something about his words and the way he talks and the way he licks his lips together while speaking makes your legs squirm. There's something about this man. Something deeply erotic. Lost in your thought, you don't hear the door opening, all you feel is a breeze of air next to you. 

"Mr. Russo." The tall man says. "My partner and co-owner of this fine establishment." You turn your head to look at him, only to be met with the most beautiful man you ever have come across. Tall, slick black hair pushed back and the darkest eyes. He looked younger but experienced, threatening but also alluring. He only smirked, wrapping his arms around his chest. 

"What are we going to do with you, love?" 

He asks you directly and his voice is smooth and rich. Feels like a warm silk blanket wrapping your body. You honestly can't believe your luck. You were brilliant, intelligent, and really good at counting carts. One thing led to another and you needed a large sum of money to pay off a mortgage. So you thought you could come to the casino and earn money by doing what you know best. Your plan was perfect, you'd go to the farthest away casino from your house so no one will know you, and you will only do it once, get the amount of money you need, and leave. 

And that's what you did. But on your way out you were asked to go to the back office where you could collect your money. You had no other choice but to obey and go and now here you were. Alone in a room sitting close to two of the most beautiful men you ever met, both dressed in expensive black suits while you were wearing a cocktail dress you had already worn to ten different weddings and various baptisms. 

"She has already apologized. She's a good girl it seems." 

You feel a heat building up in the pit of your stomach. His words hit you right where it ached the most and you try hard to wear a neutral expression. It almost feels like the start of your most erotic fantasy.

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that. So you admit to counting the cards." 

You nod your head looking at the other man thinking the first one won't notice the way your breath cuts short. 

"I need words, darling, c’mon." He places a finger on your cheek gently caressing it. "One word at a time. Slowly, you can do it." 

You gulp and you try to close your legs together, just for a little bit of friction. Your mind is getting very hazy. You didn't expect his touch, it feels electrifying and liberating in an extraordinary way. 

"I did it. I counted the cards." 

"Why?" He asks tilting his head, his fingers reaching your lips. 

"I needed money to pay off my mortgage." Maybe honesty will save you and you'll get to leave. You needed to use a bathroom and some privacy immediately. 

"Aw poor girl. I understand you need that. " He turns his head to look at the other man and they both nod their heads slowly. "Think Mr. Castle and I here could come to a deal with such a fine lady." 

"Anything you want. I will do it. I will. I promise. " 

"Oh, making promises. I know you are a good girl and a good girl does what is always expected of her." 

"Yes. Sir." 

A pool is now formed between your legs, if you get up, you're afraid you'll leak. You breathe heavily looking at them both as they are just looking at each other. 

"Got an idea," Russo says looking at the man. 

"How about I put you over my knee and I'll spank you while you are promising you'll never do it again." 

Instead of replying you just moan eagerly trying to take his finger inside your mouth. 

"I need words, doll. No matter how good your moans sound." 

"Yes, sir. Please.” Another moan, your tongue eagerly searching for his fingers. “ I won't do it ever again." 

He smirks and with one swift movement, he drags you over his knees. But instead of having you lay down, he keeps you on his knees facing him gripping your wrists together behind your back. You feel both exposed and exactly where you should be. 

"I got a better idea," Frank says, his voice echoing deeply behind you. "Ride his thigh like the good little whore you are so I can have some visual entertainment. No good if only Billy gets all the fun." 

“Wonderful idea, Frank. You heard the man.”

Billy lets go of your wrists and the lack of his touch makes you feel momentarily empty. You nod your head eagerly and you position yourself over his thigh straddling him well. Your arms are on his shoulders while trying to steady yourself. With the way, your legs open, your wet cotton panties soak his suit.

“Aw, little kitty is wet as fuck. Acting as if she has never seen two men before in her life.”

"Damn she's so fucking eager. Billy. Bet she never has been properly stretched before." 

"Already so stupidly wet, huh? Has it been a while since your little cunt was filled?" 

You whimper, you can't reply, your brain is getting so hazy while you begin to rub yourself on Billy. His hand grabs your chin forcing you to look at him. "I like my whores speaking to me. So you have to make it worthwhile for me darling. Please don't bore me." 

"Billy gets easily bored, sweet thing. Better change your tricks fast." 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, mister Russo." You gulp, trying to look at him. “I haven’t...I broke up with my ex about a year ago and I…”

"Atta girl. That’s enough. Ride him hard." 

Pressing your lips together, focused on your actions, holding a tight grip on his shoulders you begin to rub your clothed pussy over his thigh. He steadily flexes it under your touch watching you work yourself on him. Soft moans begin to leave your lips as he completely focuses his attention on you and his nonchalant pose with his arms stretched behind him have you whimpering. 

“It feels good, pretty girl, doesn’t it?” The other man’s voice echoes deep in your ear followed by a soft bite on your earlobe and his hot breath engulfing you. 

“Y-yes!” You whimper out trying to turn your head to look at him but he only pushes your head ahead. 

“Focus, doll. Focus.” His hands travel to your clothed breasts gripping them in the palm of his hands, weighing them, and playing with them. You begin to feel delirious and ready for more. You force yourself to go faster as the man’s big fingers slip under your bra and begin to play with your nipples. His hands feel so big against your skin and the way he rubs his rings over your nipples have you groaning. 

“Such a good little whore look at her.” Billy’s voice is smooth and velvety. “So eager to please, so desperate for a cock, yet she won’t say a word about it.” 

“Oh, I bet she wants us both to fill her pretty little cunt with your cocks. Look at her she’s practically salivating at the thought.”

“You want two cocks inside you, kitty? Wanna get fucked like the proper little whore you are?”

“Getting filled again and again till everything leaks out of you?”

“Please! Please, I’d do anything, I’m so good…” You plead, your lustful eyes meeting Billy’s black irises. 

“But I don’t like thieves, little girl.” Frank’s voice against your ear has you whimpering again. You feel guilt and a profound need for…discipline. 

“P-punish me! Please! I’ll make it up to you. Please!” 

Your voice sounds broken, you are so far beyond needy right now, you can barely register what you are saying but you know what you need. Them. 

Their cocks preferably. 

“I need you.” You roll your hips determinedly pushing yourself towards Billy’s chest. “I will be good, I promise.”

Frank’s hand leaves your breasts and the next thing you hear is him taking his belt off. Billy is watching his movements instead of paying attention to you, no matter how much you try to get some better friction from him. 

“You really wanna get punished?”

“Yes, please.”

With one swift motion, Frank wraps his belt around your neck pushing your head backward, your head coming close to the desk. Your pussy is clenching around nothing as the change of position makes you lose Billy’s thigh. Frank pressures the belt behind turning you to look at him. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock like the good girl you are.”

Frank pushes his cock inside your mouth, pushing you to the desk simultaneously and climbing on top of you. He gives you zero time to prepare, just uses your head like a placeholder. 

You can hear Billy fumbling with his clothes from a distance but all you focus on is Frank’s big cock. He stays there, with his hands on your face watching you teary-eyed, from the stretch of his cock. He pushes himself a little bit out of your mouth, giving you some space and air. You try to use the flat of your tongue and reach out to play with his balls. Fumbling them with your hands, you look up at his dominant figure above you. You feel like you are exactly where you should be. 

Billy comes closer to you and caresses your cheek tenderly while you are working on Frank’s cock. Then he leans behind Frank only to tear your dress away from your body. You wanted to protest that’s your only good dress but you know a whore doesn’t do that. You look at him in both confusions and completely turned on by the rudeness of his actions. 

“Now wet Billy’s cock, doll. You made mine so good.” He removes his cock from your mouth and you try to protest that you truly didn’t have enough time to play with him but he is quick to move and wrap his hands under your thighs, pushing your legs upwards. 

You reach out to Billy who has now come closer to you again, leaning to your side. First, you with his zipper and he watches you with half amusement on his face. Then you feel your panties disconnecting from your skin followed by Frank’s tongue. 

“Tastes good. Like a good eager girl.” He moans at your taste and then gestures to Billy. You run your fingers over his length as if you are tracing his veins and move your finger over his tip. You take his cock inside your mouth, bopping your head while eagerly looking up at him. You needed this and wanted this. You haven’t had some cock in such a long while. 

“Fuck.” Billy curses. “ Her mouth is good.” You work Billy the way you know he’s gonna like it, with both of your hands on his length, your mouth bopping him and your tongue working. Frank then is slapping his dick across your pussy, teasing your entrance. It is obvious he is stalling by watching how well you can take Billy. 

“Oof, baby, you really know how to suck a dick, huh?” 

You move your hands to Billy’s balls and then you eagerly take him down your throat making him groan.

“Atta girl.” That’s the kind of praises you were looking for, Billy holding up your chin because he knows what’s coming next. 

Frank pushes his tip inside and Billy keeps you in place, gagging you instantly. The pleasure coming from both ends have your chest shaking while Frank pushes more and more inside. 

“Damn what a fucking slideshow. So fucking wet for a cock, I can barely hold myself still, doll. Damn, I wish I had started fucking you the minute you walked inside the door.”

Billy lets you go and you breathe out, saliva and drool and pre-cum falling down your chin as you look between them both. 

“Stay still, little whore.” Billy chuckles, pushing some saliva back into your mouth. “Frank is gonna fuck you so deep and so fast that you could barely keep a track of my cock.”

“I can!” You protest, whining out. “I can, I promise.”

“If you fail, I will fuck your face so hard that you will see starts understand?”

“Yes, yes please!”

And just like that Frank sets a brutal pace, his hands slapping your breasts and Billy shoving and removing his cock from your face. And soon enough Frank fills you up and Billy’s cum ends up at the back of your throat. And forty minutes later, an assistant knocks on the door only to watch you getting fucked mid-air but two men holding you up. Thrusting their cocks inside your body. Like their own personal sex toy. 

Not a bad way to make it even to them, not at all…

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications, my inbox, and my requests are open!

[armyangxls]

Cozy Night In

Deena Johnson x Plus Size Reader

Warning(s): Mention of eating?

Word Count: 795

Summary: Deena and reader have a cozy Valentine night in

You knocked on Deena's door, your uncovered face getting hit by the bitterly cold wind, your teeth practically chattering from the cold.

The door swung open revealing Deena, her face beaming seeing you.

"Y/n!" Deena said, smiling.

You set your valentine's gift for Deena on the inside of the house and threw your arms around her, attaching yourself to her to steal her warmth and excitement to see her.

"You're freezing!" She said, reaching her hand behind you and closing the door, and wrapping her arm around you.

"Y-yea-ah-h I don't want to go out again. Too cold. Can we stay in and watch some romance and horror movies instead?"

"Of course, my love!" She said, pulling back from you to put her hands on your cheeks and kiss your forehead then lips bringing even more warmth to you.

You both pulled apart smiling.

"Here come and sit on the couch and warm up while I get the stuff ready!" She said, pulling away from the hug, and bringing you to the couch, you sat on it, and Deena threw a fluffy blanket on you for extra warmth. Deena walked to the kitchen to get the stuff.

~

Soon Deena came back to the living room with her hands full, two mugs of hot chocolate, and a mini carry-out box with cheeseburgers and fries.

"I kinda had a feeling you would wanna stay in tonight, so I picked us some burgers on the way from school." She said setting the stuff on the coffee table.

"Ahh, you're an amazing girlfriend!"

"I am, aren't I?" She said jokingly, smirking.

"But seriously you are too!" She said, smiling.

"And I also got this!" Grabbing a heart-shaped box of chocolate, and a box with memories written on it from the side table beside the couch.

"Aww! Wait, let me get your gift!" You said, jumping up from the couch.

Running to the side of the front door where your gift for her was, you grabbed it and rushed back to your seat.

"Here you go!" You said, handing her the gift bag she opened it seeing a mixtape, a puzzle of Scooby and the mystery gang.

"Aww I love it, you're the best girlfriend! Thank you so much!" She said, setting her gift bag on the table and hugged you.

"You're welcome, love!" You said smiling, hugging her back.

"Here's your gift!" She said, as you both pulled apart from the hug, and grabbed your gift handing you the gift.

"You got me chocolate? I love you forever!" You said smiling, then opened the box in it was a mixtape, photo booth photos of you both on one of your guys' first dates, vhs of the first movie they watched together Anne Of Green Gables.

You gasped in endearment, setting the gifts on the table, and threw your arms around Deena squeezing her tight.

"You're SOO amazing! I LOVE it! Thank you SOO much!" You said, smiling so big your mouth hurt.

"You're welcome, lovely!" She said, smiling, hugging you back.

"I love you, Deena!" You said, kissing her, your lips met hers, they were soft as rose petals.

"I love you, Y/N!" She said as you both pulled apart from the kiss.

"So what movie do you wanna watch?" Deena asked.

"The Crow!" You said, in excitement.

"Ah yes, a tragic romance!" She said, smiling.

"And gorgeous men!" You said, smiling.

"Yeah, I agree even as a lesbian!" She said, pecking you on the lips then got up from the couch and put the VHS in.

~

An hour had passed, and you both finished eating dinner, now in the middle of the movie.

You both were snuggled up, Deena's arm around your shoulder, your head resting on her with your arm wrapped around her waist, watching the movie.

You reached your arm to the table, grabbing the chocolates, opened them, and looked at all of the flavors.

"Why do they insist on putting so many strange flavors and not enough chocolate truffles, they all should all be chocolate truffles!" You said, frustration.

"Literally why! I do not know!" Deena said.

~

The movie had ended, and now you guys were listening to the mixtapes you both made for each other.

Deena stared at you in lovingness, you were like a painting of an angel painted in gold, she smiled, fully and utterly in love with you. You met her gaze, smiling back.

"What?" You asked, smiling.

"I love you SOO much gorgeous!" She said.

"I love you SOO MUCH too beautiful!" You said, smiling, feeling like soft gentle little butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.

"Happy Valentine's day, my beautiful love!" Deena said, smiling.

"Happy Valentine's day, my beautiful love!" You said, smiling.

An amazing night inside.

Note(s) Happy Valentine's day you lovely people!♥️💗💜♥️💗💜 I hope you guys like this fanfic!!

[chrisevansredbelt]

Just a Stranger

pairing: mmmm like ceo!frank castle x stripper!reader

warning: no smut today i’m sorry but this is a cute little story starter no? suggestive themes, semi lap dance.

summary: your regular customer hasn’t visited in weeks. but he comes back with a proposition for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

Sighing to yourself, you begin recounting your money, losing count after hearing the door to the locker rooms slam. Muttering the numbers under your breath, you just about finish your stack of dollar notes before getting tapped on the ass.

You would’ve clocked your fist straight into their face had you not heard their heels pattering throughout the room. Spinning around, you find your dear friend and colleague Natasha.

You smile up at her and before you can greet her, she speaks first. Resting her ass against the counter, she smiles tellingly down at you in your seat, “You’ve got a visitor.”

You immediately knew what that meant. Hell, every girl that worked here knew what that meant and you wouldn’t be surprised if a few regular customers even knew as well.

Stuffing all your money into the safety of your money bag and tying it shut, you quickly fix up your hair and makeup. Natasha just snorts at you, leaving you to it as she goes back out onto the main stage.

You practically reapplied your whole makeup, having worked your ass off on the poles last and bar tonight, you were dishevelled. And it was no help that it was some guys 21st birthday and he’d rounded all his friends and dads to come join him in his celebration. As good as the money was, you hate 21st birthday celebrations. They’re just a bunch of horny college kids doing sport and their dads are no better (just hotter).

Slipping your heels back on, you don’t even care for the ache of your feet. Before you leave, you grab the key from the hook above the door and practically skip your way over to the extra extra private room.

The private rooms for private dances are all on the bottom floor. However, this special room that you need to hike the spiral staircase to get to, is a much more private room for much more private activities.

It’s not as in use as you may think. The girls here aren’t just willingly offering themselves to anybody. And no amount of money could get a girl up there. No, these rooms are for special customers only. Special customers as in, the men that work under the big man that owns the club, Tony Stark.

He has heaps of men, of all shapes and sizes, and we all love them. They’re basically our colleagues when you think about it, all working under Tony- sometimes on top- depends how he’s feeling.

The upstairs isn’t just a bedroom either, it’s a whole apartment, if you will. Tony throws a few parties there every now and again or if a girl has troubles with her housing then it’s a free bed and breakfast. Tony takes care of us.

You keen in excitement as you reach the top of the stairs, shoving the key into the lock and opening the door.

It’s eerily quiet, but you smell him. You could’ve dropped to your knees, it’s been so long.

You make your way through the usually crowded and dark loft. It was hard to recognise this place after seeing what it looked like during one of Tony’s more intense parties. Strobe lights and filled with smoke. When it wasn’t occupied, it had a warm feeling. Homey, even. The lights were a warm tone, the decor was so inviting and the view of New York from across the manhattan bridge was just a dream.

The click of your heels was made silent by the fluffy carpet and you’re glad, hoping to catch him by surprise because you always loved the way he lit up whenever he saw you.

As you exit the foyer, into the main living area, you spot the back of him sitting comfortably on one of the couches, drink in hand and blunt in the other as he looks out at the view.

Sneaking up behind him, you cover his eyes softly with your hands and feel him jump under your skin.

“C’mon now.” Frank snorts, placing his drink down and his blunt in his mouth to softly grasp your hands in his and remove them from his eyes to see you.

He smiles wider, looking over you, subtly admiring you. It’s been so long.

With both your hands in his grasp, he easily pulls you over the couch and into his lap.

“Hey, stranger.” You sigh as you get comfortable, hands wrapping around behind his neck and playing with the soft strands of hair that tickle your wrist.

As he goes back to retrieve his drink from the table, he scoffs and removed the joint from his mouth, “Stranger?” He asks, blowing the smoke away from your face.

You shrug, sliding your hands down his chest, “You haven’t visited in like a month.” You pout before looking up at him, “You find a replacement for me?”

“Never.” He barely hesitates. Deep down you know it’s true, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind in his absence.

Leaning in to, what Frank would think, to kiss his neck, you whisper in his ear, “Liar.” You sneer, “I can smell her on you.”

Your plans to make Frank freak out and beg on his knees for your forgiveness and to tell you you’re the only one he wants fails as he just scoffs. Pulling your face out of his neck, he’s glad to finally see your face again and brings his hand up to give you a pull of his cigarette, “You’re so dramatic.” You wrap your lips around the end of the joint and inhale, “You should try your luck in acting.”

“Mmm, what kind?” You ask suggestively, pulling away and blowing out the smoke, “You could be my colleague.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

“You’re telling me Punisher Porn isn’t what the people want?” You ask jokingly, but also not. You wouldn’t mind doing porn if it were with Frank, “It even sounds cool.”

Totally ignoring your last comment, he just places his blunt in the ash tray on the coffee table and his finished drink beside it as he places his hands over your hips, giving you his full, undivided attention, “Did you miss me?” He asks and you don’t answer straight away. Instead you just shrug, avoiding eye contact as you play with the fabric of his shirt, “C’mon, I missed you.” He nudges your chin up with his rough finger so that you’re forced to look up at him, your lips inches apart, “My favourite girl.”

Just as he leans in you cover his mouth with your hand, “No kissing.” You remind him.

Regular customers aren’t even supposed to touch you, let alone kiss you. And if that’s how you need to treat Frank in order to get him to realise your worth, then so be it.

“Don’t do that to me.” He whines, kissing your hand instead as he pulls it off his mouth and over his chest, “C’mon, you really think I was with another woman?” You don’t answer, instead just shrug yet again, “If I whipped out my balls right now, I promise you they’d be blue.”

“Then where were you?” You ask, starting to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He doesn’t answer straight away. Rather, looks at you for a moment probably to decide whether to lie or to tell the truth… and from his answer, you assume it’s the truth.

“Vegas.” He says cautiously and you roll your eyes, “It was a business trip!”

“I don’t even take private dances anymore for anyone but you and this is how you repay me?” Though it’s sort of said in a joking matter, it can’t be anywhere far from the truth. You truthfully have not taken anymore customers for private dances all because of Frank. He didn’t want to ‘share’ you. Well, you didn’t want to share him either.

“Baby, what do I have to do to convince you that you’re the only one I care about?” He finally pleads, fingers softly digging into your ass, “What time do you finish?”

You’re unable to contain the small smile that plays at your lips, “I’m already off.”

“Come back to my place then.” He asks and for the first time that night, he has you stunned. He’s never asked you to come back to his place before. He’s joked about it- you both have- but it never seemed like it would ever happen, “We can get a pizza or something and I’ll fuck you on every surface in the house.”

There was something very intimate about it all- being invited to Franks house. Sure, you’ve fucked before, but it was always up here in the club. Being fucked in his house where you would probably stay the night and share the same bed until the morning… that you would be more than happy doing every day.

“What d’ya say?”

“I say…” You start off, all blushy and smiley now, “We better hurry otherwise we’ll miss the pizza.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

i’m still working on the bj gif fic don’t worry

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Lovey Dovey (Mercs x Reader) Valentine's Day Special

A/n: I'm late to the party but here we go.

Valentine’s Day was created because of Saint Valentine, who was murdered during Emperor Claudis’ reign for marrying people off. Claudis didn’t want people to marry so the single men could join the army. Valentine believed love shouldn’t be banned. The emperor found out and had him killed. The couples who Valentine married sent up flowers and notes, which created the tradition of giving those to your loved ones. They created this so-called special day in honor of the saint’s name. He was killed on the fourteenth, so I wouldn’t really call Valentine’s Day a day of love. It was more like a day of celebrating the day a man got murdered for love. We should host a service instead of romantic dates.

“Hey, Y/n, you listening?”

“Hmm?” I said. Scout’s voice pulled me out of my thinking. “What’s up?” I asked.

“It’s your turn,” he replied. 

“Right,” I said. I huffed. I held up my deck of two cards. I studied them before putting down a red number two. “Uno,” I said. Yes, we spent the first part of our Valentine’s Day playing Uno for the millionth time. Scout groaned. He had enough cards to build a full sized house. Heavy squinted at his deck. “Your move,” I told him. He hummed to himself and carefully picked his card. He put down a red number three. 

“Leetle Scout is next,” he boomed. Scout quickly pulled out a red number four. I smirked and put down a red number four as well. Scout gave a cry of disappointment as he dropped his cards down. All he had were red cards. I laughed. There was no way he was going to win with that! He had no chance!

“I’m back,” Spy called out, closing the door. He carried bags of Valentine cards, heart shaped chocolate boxes and balloons. I shivered at the thought of handing these out to other people. I wasn’t ready for a significant other. Valentine’s Day shouldn’t be just about romance. It should be about love in general. “You’re still playing that game?” Spy asked.

“Y/n won. Again,” Scout answered. He leaned back in his chair. “What’s with all the lovey dovey stuff?”

“None of your business,” Spy retorted. “Now, Y/n, as the winner of the Uno game, would you mind helping me unload?”

“Sure,” I answered.  I got up from my seat and joined Spy in the kitchen. “What is all this for?” I asked. “You’re not gonna have some big fancy wedding proposal for Scout’s ma, are you?”

“I heard that!” Scout yelled. “Don’t let him do it, Y/n! I won’t have him as my step dad!” Spy chuckled. We all knew the truth. Spy wouldn’t be Scout’s step dad if he remarried Scout’s ma. I pulled out a couple of chocolate boxes and set them on the counter. They were good and expensive chocolates. I licked my lips at the thought of eating some. I had some stuff hidden in the back of my closet. I was saving that for later today when all the guys were under one roof.

“It’s not for his mother,” he answered. “This was actually her idea to give the unlucky ones a chance of getting something for Valentine’s Day.” Oh geez. I nervously chuckled.

“So we’re gonna go around town and give these things to the people?” I asked. “Last time that happened, Pyro burned down half the buildings. Soldier thought it was a good idea to shoot the flowers through the windows with his rocket launcher.”

Soldier shouted, “AND IT WAS A GOOD IDEA INDEED.” There was chuckling from Scout and Heavy. “CAN WE DO IT AGAIN, PLEASE?”

“NO!” we all yelled. Soldier gave a small groan.

“Fine,” he answered. Spy chuckled and pulled out some expensive wine.

“Seriously though, what are we doing?” I asked. 

“We’re going to be like Saint Valentine and give people a chance at love,” Spy replied. I stared at him blankly. He was being honest about this. I was going to be honest. This was not a good idea.

*>/<*

I was right about Spy’s idea. It failed horribly before we even got the chance. It seemed well at first. Medic used his army of doves to drop off letters and Scout ran door to door dropping off some nice boxes. Then it went downhill. Soldier, against our orders, shot rockets filled with flowers and chocolates into people’s homes. It was behind our backs and we didn’t notice until the townsfolk started throwing bricks at us. I mean, it should’ve been obvious since the explosions were loud, but we passed it off as the townsfolk doing what they usually do. We ran back home with bruises.

“That was bad idea,” Heavy commented, holding the door for us all.

“Remind me to never agree to Spy’s plans ever again,” Scout said. “They suck.” Spy chuckled.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree with Scout,” he answered. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” I laughed and patted Spy’s back.

“Now you’re beginning to understand, my friend,” I said with a grin. “We are never ever doing that again.”

*>/<*

I lied about what I said earlier. I pulled out boxes from the back of my closet and placed them on the ground. The others were in the living room watching T.V. I had gotten everyone Valentine Grams from a school. I had to break in and steal everything. There was a gram for Daniel, whoever that poor child was. I tore off the tag and replaced it with another. It was for Pyro. Yes, I was doing this, even after I said I wasn’t going to. But this was for my friends. I’ve known them for a long time. They deserved this. I grabbed all the relabeled grams and placed them in a spare box. I walked down the stairs of the base and into the living room. “Hey guys,” I said. Scout looked away from the T.V. screen.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked. Pyro turned his attention my way. He mumbled happily, clapping his hands together.

“Wow, Y/n, I thought you said we weren’t gonna do stuff like that,” Engineer said. He smiled. “What was the change of heart?”

“I thought about it,” I replied, handing Scout his candy gram. “I came to the conclusion that Valentine’s Day should be about love, and just not the romantic kind, but like family or platonic love.” 

“Mmph mmph (That’s such a nice conclusion)!” Pyro mumbled happily. I smiled.

“Now c’mon guys, get your grams,” I said. “They didn’t come for free.” I finished passing out the grams to everyone. Spy passed around the gifts he bought and we all had a nice evening.

Yep, Valentine’s Day could be a lovey dovey day, but it was more than just that. It was about telling those you care for how much you felt. Even if they’re family, friends, or lovers. Tell them how much they mean to you.

[blizzardofjj]

“I’ve seen a few men on this platform criticize the Barbie craze or admit they’re ready for it to go away. So, let me tell you a story.

In my early 30s, I went to the apartment (for the first time) of a man I was dating. He had a giant Death Star replica, a Luke Skywalker and a Darth Vader figurine. He was an adult man with toys visible and on display in his home. He wasn’t ashamed or apologetic. His friends thought it was cool. I thought it was odd but didn’t question it (imagine if a new guy/love interest showed up to a 30, 40 or 50-something woman’s home to find Barbie, Ken, Growing Up Skipper and Midge displayed on a shelf). That’s because it’s acceptable for men to acknowledge their childhood. It’s acceptable for men to have toys.

Heck, right now, my 70-something dad has a man cave full of model airplanes, a life-sized Batman and a Darth Vader. I think there is a Superman, too.

Girls and women, however, are societally expected to outgrow and move on from our toys. We’re expected to shift our focus from baby dolls to human babies and from Barbie dolls to being real-life Barbies for our boyfriends and husbands. We are expected to mother baby humans and become the dolls we once dressed up while managing critiques of our body sizes, shapes, careers, makeup and wardrobe choices.

I loved Barbie. I mean, I loved Barbie! But by my teenage years, my collection of Barbies was gathered up and passed on to a younger cousin simply because it was time for me to move on from childish things. But I never stopped loving Barbie.

In fact, I still get excited to see and even visit at stores the Holiday Barbie and all her finery when she comes out each year. I’d have a house full of Barbies if I could. And why can’t I? Well,….

Women are expected to leave behind our childhoods, that essence of who we were, that time of innocence, imagination and wonder. We are expected to leave behind play and playtime.

We’re not really even allowed hobbies except for those that center around home and family.

This is not the case for men. It’s acceptable to hang on to everything from video games to action figures to bike riding. I feel like every guy I ever dated in Austin would spend hours getting muddy on a mountain bike each week.

For so many of us, Barbie is the toy we had to give up along with our girlhood, our childhood. We not only miss her, we miss the girl inside each of us who still loves her and all she represented to us. Barbie could be anything and there was a time we believed we could be, too, before life, societal pressures, reality and patriarchy stepped in, hit us over the head with a pink 2X4, took away our toys, made us grow up and told us it was all our fault anyway.”

Rachel Elsberry

[llliiinnnaaa]

Reprisal | Chapter Nineteen

coriolanus snow x gaul oc

Summary: Ten years after the Tenth Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow is under Dr. Volumnia Gaul’s wing as a Gamemaker alongside her niece. Unbeknownst to either of them, they’re both being prepared for a much greater task.

Warning: This story will contain explicit violence against adults and children alike (I mean, it’s Dr. Gaul AND Snow) as well as explicit language, and sexual situations.

***This fic is in no way, shape, or form, me endorsing or co-signing the horrific shit Snow does, nor am I trying to romanticize it. Also, apathy and will be the main driving force of any remnants of a relationship between my OC and Snow’s character. So if you’re interested in something very romantic and fluffy…it’s not gonna be this.

Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!

     Livia Snow watches solemnly as her husband hands off his bag to Philo, his blue eyes meeting hers once they’re left alone in her bedroom at her mother’s house. 

Sitting up on the plush mattress, legs crossed underneath her, fingers nervously wringing at the floral comforter. . . 

“It will only be for a little over a week, Darling.” He assures her, hands in his pockets as he slowly steps closer to her. “I’ll be back before you know it.” It’s added with his finger tips grazing her chin, a sweet smile spreading across his lips. 

Her face is more painful today, bruised more than it was the night of the incident. 

He wants to wince each time she has to move her mouth, knowing she’s in pain. 

Livia doesn’t try to speak, just as she hadn’t the last three days since losing so many teeth. 

So, she nods. 

Kissing the top of her hair while reminding her, “I love you,” he leans down and kisses her pregnant stomach, “Goodbye, dear.” 

Again, she nods, not wanting to try to speak. 

Not wanting him to see how horrid she looks now when she speaks. 

Truth be told she doesn’t mind not speaking to him at the moment, anyway. 

Frustrated and hurt that he would leave her side now of all times. 

She tries not to let it hurt her feelings or bother her too badly as he shuts the door behind as while he goes, a few stray tears trickle down her swollen cheek. 

     Philo and Snow arrive at the train station after Tawny, her father already handing her bags off to the luggage attendant as the two men step onto the platform. 

Snow grows frigid when unwanted memories slip through the seams of his mind, his lip threatening to curl with its intrusion. 

“You have everything you need, right?” Tiberius asks his daughter, clearly worried senseless about her traveling to the Districts. 

“Yes, I do.” She tells him, a small smile coming to her lips before she’s hugging him tightly. “I’ll be perfectly fine, dad. We’ll have security at each stop, and we won’t be mixed with the public at all. These are merely discussions with Mayors and whatnot.” It does little to ease his concern, but he nods, kissing her cheek. 

“I love you,” he says, next, to which she replies, “I love you, too. I’ll see you in a week.” 

“See you in a week.” He mumbles as she and Philo head toward the train cart, leaving Snow and Tiberius. “Keep an eye on her.” He adds to him. “They have yet to release Dr. Pinnacle. She’s getting more and more frantic over it as the days pass. . .I took her cigarettes out of her bag but I’m sure she has more somewhere. If you see her with one please take it. She’s been smoking quite a bit more recently, and was coughing and hacking yesterday morning.” He continues, his words bringing a slight furrow to Snow’s brows. “My father died with a tumor the size of a grapefruit in his lungs. Volumnia said it was more than likely because he smoked so much. . .me and Mini have lost so much already between our boys and our granddaughter. . .if anything were to happen to our Tawny Owl, they’d have to put us down like mad dogs.” Tiberius explains, honestly.  

Snow nods, assuring him, “I’ll take care of her, sir.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Snow.” He pats his shoulder, turning to go, but stops himself to say, “I appreciate what you said at that debate. So many people suffered just as much here as we were in the Districts. Thank you for reminding certain people of that.” 

Snow accepts his compliment from someone he actually respects, saying, “I’m glad I could do so, sir.” 

With one last smile and nod from Tiberius, he’s leaving the platform. 

Snow enters the rather lavish train, the last time he had traveled to the Districts, it was mere benches and wide windows — though he supposes those are for public citizens, not potential Presidents. 

This one is laid out like a regular living room, a sofa and leather parlor chairs, rich, mahogany side tables that match the coffee table, a thick, fluffy area rug that’s beautifully woven. 

A gas fireplace is the finishing touch. 

“. . .The dining room is through this door,” he points to the door along the wall in front of them, sleeping quarters are here,” he motions to the door in the wall behind them. 

“What about bathrooms?” Tawny asks, raising a brow. 

“Each bedroom has a private restroom.” The attendant informs her. 

She only nods, glancing around their living space for the next week. 

She and Coriolanus both feel the room spinning at the idea of being In such close confines with one another for so long. 

“Who gets what room?” Tawny asks, next, crossing her arms. 

“All the rooms are the same, so it doesn’t particularly matter I suppose, Dr. Gaul.” He replies. “If you’d like me to take your luggage, I can—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Snow interrupts him. 

Her eyes flicker to Coriolanus to see he hasn’t broken his gaze, her throat going dry. 

“Thank you, Mr. Siphon.” Snow extends a bill, a generous tip that the attendant gladly accepts. 

“You’re more than welcome, Mr. Snow. Do ring anytime you need me.” He motions to the phone on the wall beside the window, and takes his leave. 

The three of them are left in an awkward silence, Philo more than observant of his boss’ attention toward Tawny.

“I’m going to my room.” Philo clears his throat, grabbing his luggage. 

Neither person acknowledges him, glaring at one another, instead. 

Once Philo goes, leaving them be, Snow’s stepping closer to her, leering down his nose at her.  

“I expect we will keep this trip civil, Dr. Gaul. Which means bickering, petty comments, ugly looks and smart remarks stay to a minimum—and don’t happen at all while we’re working.” He says plainly, sternly. “Don’t fuck this up for me.” He adds. 

She looks at him, her tongue running across the inside of her bottom lip before she says, “‘Don’t fuck this up for me’.” She quotes him. “The first time I’ve heard you acknowledge there’s nothing left of mine to fuck up.” 

“The actions of Crane and Pinnacle and your blind devotion to them has nothing to do with me.”

“My husband, who you framed for murdering the President, and my fiancé, who you deliberately pushed at publicly—on national television—until he snapped.” She states. “Do you see the common thread the disintegration of my personal life has been woven with?” 

“I did what had to be done for the sake of Panem—”

“Oh, fuck Panem!” She outbursts, anger clenching at her fists that curl up until her hand shakes. “You do not snuff out every relationship I’ve been in for the sake of the country—you do it all for yourself !” 

“It’s my fault that you just so happen to crawl into bed with treasonist bastard after treasonist bastard.” He harshly states. 

“Pias didn’t commit treason by having an opinion different than yours!”

“He committed treason by bombing that arena and killing Capitol children!” He barks back. 

Her brows furrow deeply, her beautiful face twisting in disgust at his words as her stomach drops. 

“What?” She asks just as he adds, “It was a plan to shift the layout of the arena in the tenth games—to make it more challenging—” 

“You’re lying.” She shakes her head, feeling lightheaded as she stumbles back, turning from him. 

“It worked, but not without killing Tullia Gaul, Felix Ravinstill—”

“—Enough.” She holds her hand up to get him to stop, but he continues with, “Your aunt knew about it, Pias Pinnacle knew about it—”

“Enough!” She screams, tears falling to her cheeks as she squeezes her eyes together as he shouts back, “—Because they planned it!” 

He watches the realization wash over her face, the confusion following, all mingling with tears. . .he watches her for minutes it seems, the time dragging by, slowing down. 

Eventually, she hears him leave once she turns her back, and with the closing of the door behind him, she’s allowing a quiet sob to rack up her throat. 

     Over a day passes before Coriolanus sees her.

She’s pushing her breakfast around her plate as Philo goes through the itinerary. 

“Tonight we arrive in town in Nine, and then Eight by noon Tuesday, then Three Wednesday evening, and Six by Friday morning, and then—” He stops reading off the paper Dr. Gaul had left him with, his eyes catching on the last District to visit. 

“Then what?” Coriolanus presses. 

“This one was written it, it seems. An annotation—”

“What does it fucking say, Philo?” Tawny spares no feelings in her hoarse tone, tired of the bullshitting and dancing around corners. 

Tired of the lies, the coverups and the sugarcoating. 

“It appears the order is Nine, Six, Three, Twelve, and Eight.” He reads off the edit made by hand in Volumnia’s handwriting. 

“ Twelve .” Snow repeats, realizing why Philo had hesitated to say it, his fists tensing as he restrains from throwing his glass of orange juice at the wall and pitching a fit. 

It’s a sick joke that Gaul’s making at his expense. 

“Three, Six, Eight, Nine, Twelve.” She repeats, pushing her unkept hair out of her face. “The districts plotting rebellion are the ones my brothers and your father got murdered in.” Tawny dryly says to Snow, eyes watering, anger once more rising within her. “After all those ungrateful bastards have taken from us, yet they still feel entitled to peace separated from the Capitol.” She grimaces. “And it’s us they send out here to endorse that peace when all I want to do is blow them off the fucking map.” She kicks out of her chair, ringing her hands as she stomps out of the dining cart to her room. 

“Excuse me one moment.” Snow tells Philo, clearing his throat. 

“Of course.” He replies, watching as the blonde follows after her. 

As soon as Tawny shuts the door of the cabin only big enough to fit a full sized bed and small chest of drawers, the door opens without a knock. 

“I want to go home, I shouldn’t even be here.” She shakily tells him, her voice low and thick with the attempt at keeping herself calm. 

“Tawny—”

“—This is not what I signed up for. I agreed to accompany you and make you look good, I did not agree to a great tour of soils my brothers got gunned down on.” She 

“And that’s all you’ll do.” He raises his brows. “Just smile and play nice with the other children and we’ll be done with this entire. . . production , before we even realize it.” 

“ Production .” She mutters, turning from him to sit on the bed. 

“That’s all it is.” Snow steps closer. “Pairing us together–you accompanying me as if you’re going to be an integral part of my Presidency. . .it’s for show. Spectacle .” He informs her, piecing it together in his mind, thinking the way Dr. Gaul and her ring of bureaucratic politicians think. 

“‘ As if ’?” Her dark brows drop, nostrils flaring slightly as she repeats him. “If the goal is for me to be Head of the Department of War when my aunt is gone, and the goal is for you to be President, then there is no ‘if’ about it, Snow. I will be a rather integral part of your presidency.” She argues, only for him to roll his jaw, his expression giving way to the thoughts in his head.

Her face falls flat.

“The position is for me to appoint when Dr. Gaul’s time in it ends.” He reminds her.

“And you won’t let me see the light of day in it.” It’s said more-so to herself, taking in a deep breath. “Yet another man I’ve shared my bed with that winces at the thought of me having some control.” 

“It has nothing to do with—”

“Yes, it—”

His palm is covering her mouth to shut her up, his forehead almost pressing to hers as he outbursts, “You were just throwing around wanting to incinerate five districts, Tawny!” 

Her chest heaves with each breath, while he calms and continues, “You think I’d trust you with our War Department?” 

She refuses to admit that he’s right, that she can’t be trusted with such a responsibility. 

She’s not a big enough person to stand for the greater good of the Capitol without him holding her hand to the flame of peace .

Soft fingers gently rest over his hand, pulling it from her lips, but he doesn’t make a move to back away from her from where he’s leering over her, still so close.

“Believe or not, I have been trying to figure where you’re going to fit in all of this. . .I want you to fit.” He admits quietly, his eyes scorching hers as he speaks. “Not as my mistress, or someone I’m taking along to secure people’s support, but as an indispensable asset. Because you’re good at what you do, it’s valuable to the Capitol , and it’s valuable to Panem .”

Her eyes play tricks on her, she's sure of it, when she sees blue flicker down to glance her lips for a split second, before once more meeting her eyes in the amount of time it takes to blink.

“But not you. . . Mr. President. . .” She whispers bitterly, long, black lashes framing her watering eyes, a lump forming in her throat.

It’s quite clear in this moment, to him at least, that she’s not well-rested. 

Her words sound as if she’s had a bit too much to drink in a sense, though he knows she hasn’t. 

She’s not drunk, only exhausted. 

He can’t tell if it’s due to the shambles of her personal life, or him merely exhausting her.

Irritation bubbles in him at the latter.

If anything, he should be the one crawling to the finish line of this madness, begging for it to just be over with—under far more pressure than her and concealing it better.

“Stop trying to figure out where to put me in your circle.” She tells him in a rasp. “Because I’m going to smile and be cordial, and do my damndest to sell the shit out of you as President, and then as soon as we get back home, and I’m released from this torture chamber on wheels, I’m staying as far away from you as humanly possible. And I will stay as far away from you as humanly possible until one of us dies .

They look at one another once she says it, staring, his features hardening again as if to protect his ego from her relentless words. 

Pulling away from him, she’s reaching behind her pillow, pulling her cigarette compact out from under it, along with her lighter. 

It’s fitted between her lips, the flame flickering as she strikes it before it’s catching. 

Before she can even inhale, he’s snatching it from her lips, grabbing the compact of them. 

He ignores the daggers she shoots at him with her eyes as he steps to the door, not saying another word.

[imhereforscm]

"A night with lights"

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Leon × reader

Warnings: none

For the fluffbruary event (@fluffbruary )

A/N: Leon is here💗💗💗💗 Reading "tactile" made me think of Leon immediately. Like- come on now.... His love language is ✨TOUCH✨

Prompts: magazine | tactile | curtains (Day 17/2024)

--------------------------------------------

Your fingers felt the fabric of the red curtains, as you parted them, looking through the glass of the balcony door. "Such a pretty night." You said, your nose a breath's away from the cool glass.

"I've seen better." Leon's voice echoed against the walls of your hotel room and turning around to face him, he was laid out on the king sized bed, the back of his head onto his folded forearms.

"Don't be grumpy." You said, smiling as you strode up to the bed, sitting beside him. You slipped your hands within his and he responded with a warm squeeze.

"Grumpy? Who's grumpy?" Leon scoffed, his smile mocking, sly and enticing.

"A certain someone." You responded, with a knowing glance. "You probably don't know him."

He flipped onto his side, his beautiful eyes angled upwards. "You're talking to other men?"

You chuckled softly and leaned in, your lips touching his brow softly. "Why won't we go sit outside?" You suggested, your expression colored with expectation. "It's beautiful, you'll see. Plus, when we found this place at the magazine, we didn't pick it just to stay inside, now, did we?"

He sighed, as if exasperated, but a smile softer than the previous one shaped up his lips. "Alright then." He watched as your smile turned into a grin, spreading across your face, before you got up, hurrying out into the balcony. He shook his head and his eyes softened, as he left the bed behind, refusing it, for the love of you.

You stepped out into the balcony and leaned against the railing, admiring everything around you. The night sky up above, which shone with hundreds of stars, all handmade jewelry of the moon, offering them to its beloved night. And lower, the Earth unraveled. Houses adorned with lights, that flickered in orange, yellow or white, with the occasional red of cars crossing the horizon, so small only their headlights marked their existence.

Leon's footsteps moved slowly, leisurely as he came to stand behind you, his strong warms wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

"It's so lively down there." You noted, gazing down at the people walking down the pavement, laughs traveling with the air you breathed and kissing your ears. "Everyone's living their own life. Everyone's smiling at different things, they're going to different houses, drive different cars. All of those give me a bit of a... A weird feeling, I suppose."

Leon pressed his lips to the back of your head, leaving a kiss there, as he inhaled into the scent of your hair. "Only you would consider something this obvious so wonderful." He let go of a breathy laugh, but he wasn't mocking in earnest. He found your thoughts endearing, the words your tongue embroidered soulful and your voice put his mind at ease.

"I think of the adversity and... It's odd, yet... It's a cozy fear. Somehow... It's like you're staying at a different house, when you imagine these people going there in the afternoon." You continued, your eyes following a group of teenagers walking quickly down the street, laughing loudly, pushing each other and cussing profanities they knew they didn't truly mean. "It's like... For you it's fear, because it's not your house, but for them it's life and it's cozy. A cozy fear, yes, that's it."

Leon's fingers grazed yours, before he closed your hand within his own. "Come on, sit." He said, motioning towards a table with two chairs, using his head.

You sat down on the metallic chair and breathed into the scent that reached you from a corner of the square, while Leon dragged his own chair closer to yours, his tactile nature always wanting to touch you. "Do you smell that?"

"What?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"The scent. It's sweet. Like crepes." You said, your lips curling into a smile at the memories this aroma brought to your tranquil, unguarded mind. "It reminds me of my childhood."

"Tell me." He said, his whiskey eyes catching the streetlights within them, intoxicating them into their alcoholic depths. Leon's fingers enveloped your wrist and he tugged you out of your chair and onto his lap. "Tell me all about it."

As you began to speak, speak of tales that were history, share feelings, memories and senses with him, Leon's familiar snap echoed in your ears. Two glasses and a bottle of wine appeared on the table, droplets streaming down the black glass with the tall neck.

Leon poured wine for the two of you, his arms on either side of you and his attention undivided from you. He picked up his own glass, taking a sip and leaning back against the chair, his eyes analyzing every inch of your face as you spoke, your expression sweet and pure.

You paused, taking a sip of your own glass, the cool alcohol streaming down your throat and refreshing it. "It's quite strong." You said, watching the crimson liquid slosh around the glass.

"Hue's is better." He shrugged his shoulders, sparing the drink a slightly critical look.

You chuckled softly. "I love you."

Leon's eyes found yours, his lips kissing the rim of the glass, as he drank. His hand lowered and his free one slipped into your hair, sliding to the back of your head. "I love you too." He said, before pulling you down to him, your lips connecting.

[cyborg-franky]

Happy Halloween! - With The Whitebeard Pirates

I had the joy of doing a collab with my lovely @softcenteregg who also loves these idiots as much as me and we both love Halloween so we did a little collab! all art is by them and the fic is by me <3 please enjoy.

And have a lovely Halloween whatever you are doing be it sat at home with movies and a beloved pet or throwing eggs at some old right wing assholes house.

The crew loved any excuse to have a party, celebrate together, and have a great time. Halloween was something that came from the North Blue and had spread across the GrandLine, so many different views on it but the Moby Dicks crew took it as an excuse for a good time.

Various people liked the spiritual side of it, the creepier myths and legends that surrounded the night, the tall tails of sunken ships that rose from the depths to sail across the ocean, shrouded in fog with their crews of the undead.

Thatch was one of those people who loved to come up with stories, sometimes he’d trick the rookies into thinking he had a ghost or two in the kitchen and had ways of making it look like pots and pans were rattling and cupboards were opening.

He just lived for the thrill of making full-grown men jump, he could remember the first time he got Ace. Making him jump had come with the penalty of Ace setting something on fire in his surprise, but Thatch still didn’t learn from his actions and every year he’d repeat it.

This year he was dressed as a ghost, he looked like a captain from one of the older sailing books, with hues of blues, tares, and tarnishes in his clothing to give a spooky look. He even had his hair down, and seaweed braided into long lengths, he loved to go over the top.

The ship was docked and many sat around a large fire on the beach, drinking ciders and eating pumpkin pie that the fourth division had spent time making. Many dressed-up pirates littered the deck still, socializing and merrymaking.

Carving pumpkins to line across the entire length of the ship, in so many shapes and sizes, one for every member of the crew who’d participated. It was a legend that jack’o lanterns kept demons and bad souls away and the sea was a rough place at the best of times let alone when the world was this close to the veil of the land of the dead.

Some had orange flames flicking inside and some had blue, courtesy of Marco and Ace. The shadows danced across the deck, flaming faces pointed out so even those on the beach could glance up and see the display.

Thatch leaned on the railings and watched as Izou stepped out of the kitchen, a fresh tankard of cider in his hand. The sound of his high heels clicking on the deck as he reached where Thatch was standing.

Izou dressed as a cliche witch, well, the concept was cliche but Izou with his impeccable taste had styled the outfit. The tall witches hat sat on his beautifully styled hair, not his usual updo but it still looked stunning and framed his beautifully painted face. Dark eye makeup, dark lipstick, and long fake lashes that fluttered when he blinked.

Black stockings, black heels, a black tight skirt with a matching black top, so many straps and embellishments, the sleeves were lace and long. Thatch nodded in greeting as Izou joined him, staring across the deck and seeing younger crew members play drinking games.

“You look amazing.” Thatch complimented and was rewarded with Izou doing a twirl and a tip of his hat. “Thank you, and you look like you're going to have a fun night, when are you joining the others by the fire? We are all excited for the resident storyteller's fables.” Izou’s painted lips quirked into a smirk.

“Bit later, when things really get going.”

“Hey!” They both heard a voice and turned.

Ace grinned ear to ear as he waved a hand that was covered in a paw, they both turned to look at him. His tight pants with all the chains and attachments, barechested, as always, liked to show off his body. A long black coat with a fake wolf draped over his shoulders and for once there was no sight of his bright orange hat.

“How do I look?” He asked and posed with his hand on his hip, Thatch quirked a brow at the large spiked collar he was wearing and tried to keep his mind out of the gutter, he wondered if Marco had seen him yet.

“And what are you meant to be?” Izou asked before sipping his drink.

“A werewolf! You should see Marco, we match.” Ace proclaimed proudly and as if on cue Marco appeared around the corner, holding a plate of pumpkin pie and apple slices.

Marco was wearing the same style as Ace, a big collar, dark colors, a long coat, elaborate chains, jewelry, and other shiny things, typical bird brain. He also had bat wings attached. Thatch and Izou both tilted their head trying to work out what he was dressed as, not expecting Marco of all people to have put in this much effort, they thought he’d have worn the same outfit as last year, just a lot of blue feathers and gold strappy sandals and claimed her was some sort of bird monster.

“Vampire?” Thatch asked and Marco shook his head, coming to stand with them.

“Just a bat yoi.” He said and started to eat the pie, watching as Ace loomed closer to him, eyeing up the pie, Marco chuckled and used his fork to get a small piece and offered it to Ace who happily snapped it up with a mumbled mouthful of food thank you.

–

The night went on and everyone was having a good time. The flames still burned brightly from the mouths of the pumpkins lined up, drinks flowed and food was eaten. Whitebeard himself was enjoying everything, sat drinking and surrounded by the nurses who had dressed up as various things, telling them stories of Halloweens in his youth, some of the others sat around enthralled by his stories and the pranks he used to play in his youth.

Haruta made notes, wanting to see if he could finally get the unprankable Marco. 

Jozu and Vista sat listening and adding a few of their own experiences of being tricked by the pirate captain, he was still full of jokes and tricks even after all these years. Enjoying the spirit of fun that came with the seasonable holiday.

On the beach Thatch had finally taken up his stage, standing as everyone sat around the fire, dramatic voices, creepy stories of beasts, betrayals, and ships with no crews. Ace sat next to Marco, still helping himself to whatever was left on Marco’s plate as he paid attention to the story.

Izou had gotten comfortable after struggling to walk over the shifting sand in heels, rejecting Thatch’s offer to carry him over his shoulder. Marco smirked when he saw the rookies leaning in, completely captivated by the horrors Thatch was unveiling with each word he spoke. 

Ace grinned, knowing this story, the one he always told rookies. When it got to a certain point, the haunting and terrifying conclusion he used his powers to make the fire erupt up high, making the newbies jump higher and scream louder.

The older members of the crew laughed at the entire thing, watching some of the rookies fall off their seats and put hands to chests and pounding hearts. Ace winked at Thatch who’d sent him a knowing smile.

–

As the night started to dwindle, flames going out, empty plates scattered around the deck, snoring from those who’d passed out dotted around the deck the four commanders sat at a table.

“Happy Halloween guys.” Thatch said with a happy sigh and raised his tankard.

“To many more spooks and shenanigans together yoi!” Marco grinned and raised his own.

“To having adventures together!” Ace added, lifting his mug.

“To good times never-ending,” Izou added with a smile raising his.

The tankards knocked together as they all cheered to the toast. A Halloween well spent with the people they cared about the most.

The End

Happy Halloween from Franky and Egg!