#I NEED THE LEATHER OUTFITS AND THE PINK COAT PLEASE? PLEASE? PLEASE? DO I HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO MOD??????????????

[theropoda]

the fact that there actually IS a gay skyrim modding website made by and for gay men but none of the mods there actually appeal to my tastes truly showcases the sheer amount of hatred god holds for me......Like is it too much to ask for a modded outfit that looks like something out of an r+ set

[sleeplessgreaser]

Animal Room (1995)

Directed by Craig Singer, starring Matthew Lillard and Neil Patrick Harris, this movie is WILD. If you like Matthew Lillard, or you just enjoy strange and obscure movies, it's possible you've heard of this one! Well, I decided to write an essay on it, because I have autism I love this movie for some odd reason. Also, it is impossible to google information about this movie so consider this my version of Wikipedia for the movie, Animal Room.

WARNING: This movie, and the following post, contains a lot of dark themes. Please be aware that this movie includes murder, suicide, peer abuse, substance abuse, domestic abuse, animal abuse, rape, religious themes, satanic themes, gun violence, and very graphic depictions of pretty much all of the above.

Still interested? Alright, let's get into it then. (Also, this is really long, sorry.)

This movie is strange, confusing, terrifying, shocking, and downright disturbing. It supposedly takes place in the near future, though the exact year isn’t defined, and this can be seen through odd clothing styles and the occasionally weird setting choices. I would say a lot of it is inspired by the suburban gothic dystopian genre? (Niche, I know, but stay with me here.) Topped off with a hint of The Matrix… are you still here? Okay, cool, because it’s only going to get weirder.

First off, we need to know all of the characters, and there are a lot. Many characters have their names mentioned in passing, and as a result we don’t really know who is who, so I will do my best to explain them all.

The first person we see is known as Pink, played by Ryan Payne Bell. He’s a pale redhead with frizzy hair, typically seen wearing a bowler hat and trench coat. Pink is a part of Doug Van Housen’s gang, who we soon find hanging out on the pier of a seemingly abandoned carnival. Doug, often referred to as simply ‘Van Housen’, is played by Matthew Lillard. He has jet-black hair, styled in a messy bowl cut, and he wears multiple different outfits throughout the movie, always consisting of whites and blacks. His style could only be described as “modern vampiric”. (Which actually makes a lot of sense, once you get to know him.) His girlfriend, Shelly, played by Lori Heuring, has long blond hair and can usually be found hanging off of Doug’s arm. The other members of the gang include Eddie, Porky, and Hinge. Eddie LeMaster, played by Brian Vincent, has short brown hair and is usually wearing a leather jacket or a sleeveless shirt. Porky, played by Eddie Malavarca, can easily be recognized by his bright red (sometimes black) bandana and curly black hair. And finally, Hinge, played by Dechen Thurman, has straight brown hair that comes down to his shoulders and is always carrying, if not actively reading, a book.

As far as I can tell, the hierarchy of the gang is as follows: Doug is the leader, Shelly is his “consort” of sorts (she isn’t really treated as part of the gang, but more like an ally who gets special treatment), Hinge is Doug’s confidant while Eddie is the main instigator, and Porky and Pink are the goons who hang around just to be a part of the fun and do what they’re told. Hinge and Eddie seem to be important to Doug – Eddie is loud and excitable, likes to start shit and cause chaos, while Hinge is quiet and reserved and silently encourages Doug’s bad behavior. We see throughout the movie that Doug is often annoyed by Eddie’s behavior (along with Pink’s and Porky’s), whereas with Hinge he seems to enjoy his company. We see him often leaning on Hinge’s shoulder, listening to him explain complex topics or just zoning out while Hinge is reading a book. Their relationship is subtle, as Doug treats Hinge as if they were friends, meanwhile with the other three he’s a bit more leader-ly.

Eventually we meet our protagonist, Arnold Mosk, played by Neil Patrick Harris. Arnie is a young boy, with short blond hair and thin glasses, who is actively dealing with a drug problem. In his free time, Arnie sneaks into the school auditorium and takes hallucinogens while sitting out in front of the stage. He has no friends (minus Gary), no social life, and he talks like an absolute nerd with a cynical, nihilistic, and severely depressive outlook on life. Here’s an actual quote from him when someone asked him “What happened?”: “Oh, nothing untypical. Barbarians rarely capitulate.” … I mean, come on. Is it any wonder he gets bullied?

Anyways, we learn that the school has designed a special “class” of sorts for troublesome students, and Arnie (being a drug addict) has to be a part of that class. As a result, he’s become a target for Van Housen and his gang – well at least, he’s become a bigger target than before. There are two adults in the school who are important to the story, the principal and a teacher who acts as Arnie’s therapist. Principal Jones, played by Stephen Pearlman, is the secondary antagonist of the story, as his choice to continue the use of the "Class for Troublesome Kids" is the main issue for our protagonist, and Doug Van Housen’s abuse is simply a result of it. Meanwhile, Doctor Rankin, played by Joesph Siflavo, is Arnie’s only advocate on the schoolboard as he actively argues against the use of the "Class for Troublesome Kids" or, at the very least, that Arnie doesn’t belong in there. Throughout the movie, Arnie visits Rankin’s office to confide in him about his troubles, and in turn Rankin tries to convince him to stop using drugs.

This special class, known by the students as the ‘Animal Room’, seems to be either an all-day class or at least a homeroom for the students that are assigned to it. Principal Jones claims that the class is for the sake of the 95% of students who are not troublesome, and that the 5% who are should simply be kept away from the rest so that the majority can succeed. However, this means that the 5% of students who are not a part of the “good” population are rounded up together and left to fight amongst themselves. This classroom is found in a basement area, at the end of a long hallway filled with short flights of stairs and graffiti, and security guards sit (or, most often, sleep) outside the door. In this classroom, we find Doug Van Housen and the rest of his gang (minus Shelly) and some other students who have been deemed troublesome, such as ‘Baldy’ (more on him later) and Arnie. This room is filled with shoddy desks and chairs, cement walls lined with pipes and ductwork, and a single television which is always playing the same thing: a recording of a man dressed in all black, similar to the security guards, with slicked back hair and wearing matrix-style sunglasses. This man is usually inaudible, but is always speaking in a very authoritative tone and staring directly at the camera. Watching this TV seems to be the only thing in the classroom the students are “permitted” to do, although there is rarely a teacher, or even a security guard, inside the room to stop them from doing otherwise. If things start to get loud, however, the guards outside will come in to stop it.

Next, we meet Gary Trancer, played by Gabriel Olds. He’s Arnie’s only friend, and apparently has been his friend since they were kids, but in the past few years they’ve grown apart. Gary’s girlfriend, Debbie, played by Amanda Peet, apparently either temporarily dated or had a one-night stand with Eddie LeMaster, and as a result Eddie holds a grudge against Gary for “stealing his girl”. This, combined with Gary’s brave attempts to protect Arnie from the school bullies, makes him into a target as well.

Now that we know all the characters and their roles, let’s get into the actual story. First off, we truly learn just how bad things are at this school when Van Housen’s gang ambushes Arnie in the bathroom, and I’m begging you to skip the rest of this paragraph if you’d rather not be horrified by something that is so terrifyingly real it truly sickens me. Ready? Doug begins to beat Arnie, while Pink and Eddie are taunting him and Hinge is flicking the light switch on and off like it’s some kind of nightmare. We see Porky walk out of a bathroom stall, buckling his pants, and the boys grab Arnie and drag him into the stall, while he’s struggling and crying. Doug, who’s standing over the toilet facing Arnie, grabs him by the back of the head and shoves him face-first into the bowl filled with Porky’s shit. Arnie is gagging, suffocating, and essentially being drowned, until finally he stops struggling and allows himself to go still. The gang leaves him there, gasping, coughing, and puking on the floor of the bathroom. This scene may not be as bad in writing, but actually watching it play out legitimately made me feel sick.

Soon after, we see Arnie and Doug sitting in the principal’s office – Arnie, looking half-dead, and Doug playfully giving himself paperclip nails. The principal sits down and begins to scold both of them, as if Arnie had been equally in the wrong, and then proceeds to deal out zero punishment.

We then see Doug making his way home. He walks through a cemetery, passes by a lone guitar player sitting on a small dock playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata (No. 14 in C-sharp Minor). His home is a giant mansion, and when he walks in he immediately strips naked in front of his butler, then walks up the stairs, leaving the butler to pick up his clothes. Meanwhile, Arnold is having a hallucination about being at a bar with creepy old men, presumably the one where he got his drugs, and is being strip-teased by a woman in white lingerie while a baby cries in the distance.

I warned you that this movie was wild, and it's only going to get wilder from here!

The next thing that happens is that Van Housen’s gang, along with Shelly, bursts into the home of Shelly’s family (Shelly being Doug’s girlfriend, in case you forgot). Her mother is upstairs taking a bath, while her father and brother are sitting at the table eating dinner. Once again, if you'd rather not be traumatized by the horrifying actions of Doug Van Housen then I suggest you skip the rest of this paragraph. They start taunting and torturing her father, who is confined to a wheelchair and begins to have trouble breathing. Eddie grabs a trash bag and pulls it over her father’s head, suffocating him for a moment before dragging him out of his chair, meanwhile Doug has climbed the stairs to interrogate Shelly’s mother, who is now wearing a bathrobe. Doug asks for the gun owned by Shelly’s father, threatening to rape the mother among other things. She slaps him, then gets the gun and asks him to leave. As the gang heads out the door, Eddie hangs back and pulls Doug aside, whispering something. The camera cuts to Shelly’s mother, sitting on the stairs, and Eddie walks up, grabs her by the hair and drags her to the bedroom as she screams.

I warned you, this movie is disturbing.

Later, in Dr. Rankin’s office, Arnie tells him a story about how a group of thugs once beat up Van Housen, and how slowly, over the next year, each of those thugs disappeared and were eventually found dead.

Later that day, Gary visits Arnie’s home to discuss how they’ve grown apart. He wants to reconnect, and they talk about going on a trip to the Caribbean, something they had always dreamed of doing back when they were children. They decide to finally take that trip in the summer, as soon as their final year of high school is over and before Gary has to leave for college. It’s important to note that Gary is the only person in the school, besides Dr. Rankin, who treats Arnie like a regular human being. Everyone else, even casual peers, see him as a freak or weirdo. Also, once Gary leaves, Arnie scolds his mother for being a drunk, and for acting weird when Gary came to visit. (To be fair, she was acting very weird, but it was obviously out of innocence, and I don’t think she deserved to be scolded like that by her own son.)

When we get to see Doug Van Housen’s room, we learn a bit more about who he is as a person, and Why He's Like That. Religious paraphernalia, paintings and statues line the walls alongside gothic hanging lamps and candles. His bed has a gigantic headboard, and we see him lying in bed wearing reading glasses, looking through a book that mentions King Henry VI.

We now get to meet Baldy, played by Huckleberry Fox, in the Animal Room. He’s drawing at his desk, while Van Housen’s gang is discussing hypotheticals, and Doug walks over and begins messing with him. Doug starts nosing the side of Baldy’s face, whispering in his ear tauntingly, then spits on the back of his head, where we see he has a tattoo of a ghoul. Baldy jumps up, turning around to yell “Why are you such a filthy scumbag?!” The gang all jump to defend him before a guard walks in to break it up.

Arnie has a hallucination about the carnival, where he finds the rotting corpse of Doug Van Housen wrapped up in plastic like a game prize. Doug asks him, “Do you see what your friend did to me?”

We cut to Baldy, who is helping to run a recording session for the band, Misfits (yes, the real band), and Van Housen’s gang is sneaking into the studio. When he isn’t looking, they sneak into the room and grab him. The band, on the other side of the glass (which is apparently one sided, as they can’t seem to see the events on the other side) begins playing again while the gang begins to interrogate Baldy for calling Doug a “filthy scumbag”. After a few minutes of torment, they shove Baldy to the ground and Doug begins slamming his head into the floor. The others look afraid, Eddie yells at him to stop, Baldy is bleeding and has gone limp. Doug wipes a hand over Baldy’s face, kisses his forehead and says “Goodnight.”

We then cut to Baldy’s father, sitting at home and staring at a picture of him, then we cut back to the gang who has now moved to their usual hangout on the carnival pier.

Shelly arrives (she must have gone home for a bit, since she had been there when Doug killed Baldy), and she’s holding a small rabbit. Porky and Pink are cooing over it, and Shelly brings the rabbit over to Doug for him to hold. She watches as he twists the bunny’s neck, killing it, and she begins crying and screaming hysterically. Porky and Pink decide to escort her home, Hinge and Eddie leave soon after, and Doug is left alone.

Pink, who is now seen walking around town, is cornered by Baldy’s father who pulls out a gun and shoots him. He falls dead on the street.

At school, in the Animal Room, Eddie pulls the fire alarm. Everyone is evacuated out of the building, but Doug corners Arnie and keeps him from leaving. Doug begins telling him the story of Job from the bible. Oh, and also he tells Arnie, “I want your blood in my mouth.”

Later, in Dr. Rankin’s office when Arnie is recounting the event to him, Rankin admits to Arnie that he’s going to be leaving the school due to a job offer. Arnie leaves, and when we next see him he has a gun. He pretends he’s pointing it at Doug, then considers pointing it at himself. We see him sitting in the school hallway, leaning against the lockers and fiddling with the gun. He puts the gun in his mouth, and a teacher and janitor catch him before he pulls the trigger. He points the gun at the janitor, who pulls out his own gun and shoots him.

Arnie ends up in the hospital, in a coma. His mother and Gary are there with him.

Van Housen’s gang, which has now dwindled to only four members, is once again hanging out on the carnival pier. Gary approaches them, holding a gun and pointing it directly at Doug. Doug makes Hinge, Eddie and Porky leave, then stands with his arms out, daring Gary to shoot. Gary screams, shooting off five rounds, each one missing Van Housen. Doug walks to Gary, carefully taking the gun from his hands. He shoots the last round into the air, then leaves with his friends.

Debbie (Gary’s girlfriend) is throwing a party. Gary is there, but sitting alone in another room, away from the other guests. Through the doors come bursting Eddie and Porky, behind them is Hinge who has Doug hanging off of him. As Doug steps out from behind Hinge we see he’s sporting a brand new look. His hair is slicked back, and a dark red circular mark is branded onto his forehead. His face is pale, and he’s wearing all black. The gang leaves, and it’s just Gary and Doug, alone.

Doug says he’s going to hurt Arnie as soon as he’s out of the hospital, and Gary tackles him. They immediately begin throwing punches, until Doug gets his hands around Gary’s throat and begins choking him. Doug tosses him to the ground, then pulls out the gun he took from him. Doug sits down on the floor, setting the gun in front of him and Gary grabs it, putting it directly to Doug’s forehead who then pulls his hand down to point the gun into his mouth. Gary backs away, dropping the gun fearfully.

Doug says, “Gary. I will be there when your children wake up. I will be there when you get married. I will be there at your next birthday. I will be there when little Arnie gets out of the hospital. You hear what I’m saying to you, Gary? I will always be there.”

“I will always be there.”

On the wall is a decorative sword. Gary takes it down as Van Housen holds his arms out, once again inviting him to make a move. Gary slashes the sword across his chest, mimicking Doug’s corpse in Arnie’s hallucination. Doug falls limply to the ground.

The police are called.

Officers walk into the room.

Doug is still holding the sword.

They shoot him.

My Thoughts:

Okay, so first of all, Gary was too good for this world. He was the only likeable character in the entire movie, and I was devastated when he died, especially because it was so sudden and they really make you think he’s in the clear. Second, Doug Van Housen, and his group, are absolutely fascinating to me. Their dynamics are just so intriguing, especially the one between Doug and Hinge. Of course, there are so many oddities about this movie that it all feels like a fever dream. The clothing choices, the symbolism, the dialogue, it’s all so wild.

Honestly, I don’t know if I would recommend this movie. On one hand I think it is fascinating, and could be very interesting to some people, but on the other hand it is hard to understand and will likely just leave you questioning things. You’re telling me Doug Van Housen has killed at least five people and faced no charges for any of those murders, when clearly everyone knows he did it? And then when Pink is killed, no one mourns him, and his death is barely even recognized by the characters. Baldy’s father had two seconds of screentime: mourning his child, and shooting Pink. That event is never acknowledged after that. Then, Shelly was so in love with Doug that she forgot who he was, she forgot that he’s a psychopath. She thought she was special, but she wasn’t. He kills her rabbit and then she’s gone, and we don’t see her again. And what about her family? They tortured Shelly’s mother and father, and they just chose not to press charges?? And last but not least, Arnold, who ended up in a coma, is going to wake up one day and find out that his only friend is dead. He was already suicidal, his mother might as well pull the plug and let him go because as soon as he finds out about Gary he’ll probably try to off himself anyways.

Really, the only way to truly understand the movie is to watch it for yourself. As far as I know there is basically no way to buy it anywhere online, and no streaming services have it. Thankfully, someone on youtube has uploaded the whole thing for free. You can find it easily just by looking it up! If you want to know when certain things happen (so that you can skip them or skip to them) or if you have any questions regarding the movie, feel free to shoot me a message or leave a comment!

[downwiththeficness]

The Usurper-Chapter Ten

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

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God damn, but Javier had good taste. Lilah frowned at herself in the mirror and tried not to hate the man for his ability to pick outfits that suited her perfectly. Lilah would never have looked twice at the softly draped sheath dress in shell pink. And, she certainly never would have dared to step into the satin pumps that adorned her feet. More than that, she would never have thought to put the two together in a single outfit.

“I look amazing,” she murmured, wondering why it felt like her stomach was turned around in knots. No. She knew exactly the reason, and it wasn’t because she looked good.

This was a date. It was definitely a date. Lilah was going to a bar for drinks with Brasa. He’d even assured her there would be a band. She was dressed up, her hair was done, and she’d put on a little more makeup than normal. Most days, all this effort would be put towards the goal of disarming a mark. But, not tonight. Tonight, Lilah’s effort was to...what? To tempt him? To draw him in? To make him want her?

Lilah had mixed feelings about Brasa on her best days. On her worst, she resented him for putting her in a position that had no good outcome. She’d either spend the rest of her life in the caves, or Amaru would kill her. Lilah wasn’t sure which option was better. Death might be a mercy, given the certainty that she was going to go insane if she spent much more time isolated from the rest of the world. It didn’t matter how much Brasa tried to reassure her, Lilah couldn’t figure out how to get around her biggest hurdle to freedom.

She turned from the mirror, hoping that she could distract herself from the impossibility of her situation with a little alcohol and music loud enough to ring in her ears for hours afterwards. Brasa assured her that she could go out as often as she liked and this was her first attempt to test that theory. It occurred to her that she should try to find an opportunity to run. Brasa was less likely to drag her kicking and screaming back to the car if there were others around to act as witnesses. Less likely didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Javier talked about the lengths Brasa would go to in order to get her back. To the ends of the earth...

The bedroom door opened and Brasa stepped through. Lilah lifted her brows at him, “Please tell me you’re changing before we leave.”

Brasa looked down at his outfit, much the same as he always wore. Black on black, leather coat and gloves. He hesitated before saying, “Ah, maybe?”

Lilah took a moment to think about how she was going to say the thing that definitely needed to be said, “You can’t go out into public like that.”

Dark brows drew together, “Why?”

She held back a laugh at his genuinely confused expression, “Because people are going to either think you’re some kind of cosplayer or...deeply into BDSM.”

More confusion, “What’s BDSM?”

“That’s probably something you should look up for yourself,” Lilah said quickly. “My point is that you need to blend in a bit.”

The door opened again and Javier hurried inside, “My deepest apologies for intruding, but she’s back.”

“Already?” Brasa drawled, looking unhappy.

“Yes. And, from what I’ve seen so far, her trip was unsuccessful.”

Brasa muttered what sounded like a curse under his breath, “Alright. I’ll deal with her,” he turned to Lilah, “and we’ll go.”

“You’re gonna change first, right?”

He sighed, “What would you like me to wear?”

Lilah shrugged, “Just blend in, okay?”

Javier inched forward, “I have something that might work.”

Javier to the rescue.

“Thank you,” Brasa said. Then, “Let’s get this over with.” To Lilah he added, “Wait here, please.”

Feeling somewhat bewildered, Lilah watched the two of them leave. She stared at the door for a long time, then trudged over to the bed and sat down to wait. Lilah waited, and waited, and waited. She waited so long that she thought the bar might close before they got there. That thought came along with an odd sense of relief. All the pressure of enjoying the next few hours to the fullest for fear that she might not get another chance any time soon lifted. She wouldn’t have to try to make small talk, wouldn’t have to try to be pleasant. Wouldn’t get distracted by his smile. Or his dimples. Or his impossibly brown eyes.

From somewhere far away came a noise. It was small, at first, but the sound grew in volume and force with such speed that Lilah jerked to standing. Staring into the middle distance, she listened hard for something that might tell her just what the fuck that was. The noise paused briefly, then started again with a deafening boom. She rushed to the door and was out in the hall before her brain caught up with her legs. In the dark, she searched for the danger.

It sounded like thunder. How could she hear thunder hundreds of yards underground? Lilah turned her head and looked both ways down the hall—there it was again. Not thunder. More like...a roar. Lilah took a step towards it with a hand lifted, as if to shield herself from attack.

Another roar. Lilah took off running. She blew through the door and into the massive cavern. Her legs stopped cold when she caught Amaru in the process of tearing the head off a person who was fighting for their life. Lilah’s jaw unhinged and she had every intention of screaming, but no sound came out. She’d seen Brasa kill, knew that she was surrounded by blood drinkers, but watching the skin tear apart in real time was sickening.

“My queen,” Brasa said in a cool tone, “was that necessary?”

Amaru dropped the head. It landed with a wet plop at her feet, “She failed me. Like you have failed me.”

Brasa was faced away from her and he hadn’t noticed Lilah was standing there watching. His body was upright and rigid, as if there was a string lifting him from above. Lilah half expected to look down and find his boots hanging an inch or two from the stone floor. On either side, his hands were clenched into fists. “Its going to take time to track down the book, my queen.”

Amaru stared him down and Lilah could feel the anger radiating from her, “I wouldn’t even need the book if I wasn’t stuck in this ridiculously weak body.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Its very frustrating for me, too. But, if you want to open the door, we need the book.”

Amaru didn’t seem at all impressed by Brasa’s measured response. She marched up to him and pointed a finger in his face, “For every day you make me wait, I’ll tear somebody apart. Even though they breed like rabbits, there’s only so many of them. Guess who I’ll come for when I run out.” Brasa’s ‘my queen’ was cut off when Amaru slammed the heel of her palm into his chest and sent him flying. He landed ten feet from where he was standing and stayed there while Amaru sneered, “No more failures.”

Lilah waited for her to disappear before she allowed herself to move. Even then, it was only to bring her hand to her chest. She drew calming breaths while she waited for Brasa to get up. He did, eventually, but his movements were slow. Lilah thought he might actually be hurt, which produced an odd pang that unsettled her. She might not like him very much and she might resent him, but something about watching Amaru toss him around in a fit if pique didn’t sit right.

After dusting himself off, Brasa turned and finally realized she was there. He said her name softly and the two syllables were touched with mortification. Lilah knew what it was like to have someone witness an ass kicking. In some ways just knowing there was another set of eyes in the room made the whole thing even worse.

She straightened her shoulders and smiled, “Tough day at the office?”

Brasa looked down at the head still sitting on the floor, “You could say that.”

“Do you want to reschedule?”

“No,” he answered after a few seconds, “I think getting out of here is a good idea.”

Lilah nodded and gestured towards the body, “Should we...bury her, or something?”

“I’ll ask Javier to care for her,” Brasa replied. “He should—.”

“I’m here,” Javier said as he entered the room with a garment bag over his arm. He looked at the gore below, “I take it the meeting didn’t go well.”

“It didn’t.”

Javier snapped into action, “Take this. Go change. I’ll handle the body. Lady Lilah, if you’ll wait in your room, this will not be easy to watch.”

As if watching her die was easy? Lilah thought, with ire. Followed by, I’ve seen two murders, lately. I wonder how many more there will be. She said, “Sure. I can do that,” while she pushed down the image of Raul’s terrified face.

Brasa reached for her, “Come on.”

Arms crossed over her chest, Lilah let Brasa lead her out of the cavern and down the hall to her room. Once inside, he split off and headed for the bathroom without a word. Lilah found herself once again sitting on the bed, waiting. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to parse her feelings about the last ten minutes of her life.

Lilah knew that Amaru was brutal and a little bit unstable. She also knew that Amaru was powerful. The mix of powerful and unstable had led to what felt like an inevitable conclusion: sadism. Whatever she was looking for, Amaru was willing to kill for it. She was also willing to punish her most trusted lieutenant in the process. Which didn’t bode well for Lilah.

She had been kept well away from Amaru for weeks. Aside from their introduction, Lilah hadn’t seen the other woman at all. The only news about her came from the little details that Lilah was able to glean from Javier and Brasa. The two of them spoke to each other in a way that suggested a long-suffering relationship of managing what basically amounted to tantrums when Amaru didn’t get her way.

Lilah didn’t know the extent of Javier’s abilities, but she thought she had some surface knowledge about what Brasa could do. It didn’t make sense that the two of them refused to team up and take down Amaru together. Their lives would certainly be a little less stressful without having to clean up after their sovereign.

Brasa stepped out of the bathroom and Lilah’s brain sort of stopped for a second. He was dressed in a button up and slacks, which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. But, Javier’s selection was a cotton in a deep purple with cuff links that glinted gold. The pants were black, of course, but cut closer to his body than he usually preferred. In fact, the whole outfit was tailored impeccably to skim the lines of his frame. Taken as a whole, Brasa looked really fucking good.

She remembered thinking that he was in shape back when he was Antonio. His conservative style and the fact that he occasionally wore a robe managed to effectively hide the body underneath. When he became Brasa, the leather coat and heavy fabrics did much the same. Now, wrapped in thin cotton, Lilah could see the breadth of his shoulders and the way the muscle rolled when he moved. It pulled at the yoke of his shirt with every breath. Brasa lifted his hands to button the cuffs and Lilah had to tuck her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out to trace the outline of his bicep. He might be dressed like any other man in the bar, but there was no denying that Brasa could put somebody on their ass.

“You look nice,” Lilah said when she found her voice. She looked down. He was still wearing the gloves. What was with the gloves?

Brasa smiled and those fucking dimples formed on either side of his mouth. Lilah’s brain stopped again, stumbling over the fact that she could find him so completely attractive despite her less than kind feelings about him. “Thank you,” he said. “Should we go?”

Shaking herself back to awareness, Lilah pushed from the bed to stand and answered, “Yes, of course.”

He guided her out of the room and moved left down the hall. Lilah felt him take her hand while the light around her dimmed, “We’re not going the other way?”

Brasa glanced back at her, “Its faster this way.”

“Oh.”

The path was fairly straight, only a turn or two, but Lilah felt the gentle incline put a little burn in her calves. She should have known better than to wear the heels Javier picked out for her. The only way out was through the caves and the ground beneath her was unpredictable, at best.

Not long after that, moonlight cut through a large opening. Lilah stepped out into fresh air and saw that it as the same entrance Brasa brought her to on the night she found out he wasn’t human. She looked around, her brows coming together as she recognized Antonio’s car parked not too far away. It had only been a few days, but the memory of seeing Brasa standing in the doorway of the church seemed like a lifetime ago.

Brasa pulled a set of keys from his pocket and clicked a button. Lights flashed on a late model Mercedes in black. Lilah followed him to the car and let him help her into the passenger’s seat. With the door closed, Lilah let herself think that the interior was really, really nice while trying to forget that the person who owned it was probably dead. The driver’s side door opened and Brasa dropped into the seat. Lilah listened to the engine turn over, then asked, “What book is Amaru looking for?”

If Lilah wanted to live, she needed to know everything she could about the key players on the board in order to make the best decisions regarding her safety. Even if Amaru was insane, Lilah could tell that she was goal oriented. If Lilah knew the intimate details of what drove Amaru’s decisions, she could anticipate (and possibly mitigate) the danger.

Brasa’s hand hesitated over the gear shift, “A book on ancient Xibalban ritual.”

Lilah was surprised he’d actually answered the question. She decided to pry further, “What kind of ritual?”

Another hesitation, “She...wants to open the door between dimensions.”

Lilah’s head turned very slowly so that she could look at him, “She wants to do what?”

Brasa pulled away from the cave with confident hands, “Open the door between dimensions.”

“Why the fuck would she do that?”

He took a breath, “I suppose she misses home.”

Lilah stared at him for a long moment while she tried to process, “I know that I’ve only met her once—the recent murder notwithstanding—but I definitely get the feeling that Amaru isn’t capable of being homesick.”

Brasa chuckled while the car zoomed towards a distant highway, “You’re right. I think she misses the power.”

“Brasa,” she said with disbelief in her tone, “she tore the head off somebody right in front of us. How much more powerful can she get?”

“You’re right again,” he replied. “Power might not be the right word. Maybe influence is better.”

“Influence?”

A nod, “Amaru was...untouchable in Xibalba. She oversaw nearly the whole dimension, had an army of culebras that soaked the ground with blood in her name.” He paused, “Here, she’s stuck in the body of a child with a fraction of her influence. Her army can be obliterated with the next sunrise. The humans don’t know about her. Worse, its unlikely they’ll care unless she slaughters them in droves.”

Lilah’s brain helpfully supplied the image of a neck separating from a torso, “Opening a door to another dimension isn’t going to stop her from doing that.”

“I know,” he relented, “But, searching for the book is enough of a distraction to put off the need to dig mass graves for a little while.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes.”

Lilah grabbed onto something in his tone, “You’re trying to prevent it.” Brasa was quiet long enough that she decided she was right. “I don’t think I pictured you as particularly protective of humanity.”

“I’m not,” he replied and Lilah deflated a little bit. “I’ve seen this before. She conquers her enemy, sucks the life from them until there’s nothing but a husk. She did the same in Xibalba and she’ll do the same here.”

“I don’t understand why it matters where she does it.”

“It doesn’t,” Brasa replied, “What matters is that she does it. Can you imagine what its like to see an entire world drained of everything that makes it,” he searched for the words, “a world? Can you imagine what its like to watch that happen over and over with no goal but the sheer enjoyment of watching something die?”

“No, I can’t,” Lilah said quietly. She could hear the exhaustion in his voice and it very nearly caused her to sympathize with him. “Why now? You’ve been with her forever. Why try to stop her now?”

He glanced at her briefly, “Its not obvious?”

She hissed through her teeth, “So, we meet and suddenly you want to save humanity? Is it because I happen to be a part of humanity?”

The car pulled off from the highway into a metropolitan area, “Not at all.”

“Then, what is it?”

“Change,” Brasa murmured, “Meeting you showed me that change was possible.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, “Please. You’ve lived for centuries and you just now figured that out?”

His mouth twisted, “Yes, I have lived for centuries. I have lived the same life for centuries. Do you know what its like to be told what to do every waking moment? To have no choice in who you talk to, who you threaten, who you fuck,” his voice went quiet, “who you kill?”

Well, now Lilah felt like an asshole. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, saying, “No, I don’t.”

Brasa pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot of a building with a sleek exterior and huge windows, “I don’t have choices, Lilah. Not for the things that matter. What Amaru tells me to do, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to. Because I made a mistake a long time ago.” He cut the engine and leaned towards her from across the console, “But, with you, I can see that I might not have to do that anymore if I am very, very careful.”

Lilah stared at him, “I don’t understand.”

“One day, I’m going to explain it to you,” he replied, “Not tonight, but one day. Let me give you the chance to relax for a few hours, hmm?”

He was asking her to stop for now. Lilah sighed and decided that she would heed the request, “Alright, but I want a giant drink with lots of alcohol.”

Brasa smiled, “Done.”

[blackenchanting]

Ravens burrough Remastered episode 1

February first. Year 2016. Location a few miles outside of ravens borough

warning this story is NSFW therefore not made for anyone under the age of 18. Ameila likes to swear

The roaring of engines came as a large airplane flew overhead. The silver and white flying coffin featured a red stripe down the side and four main engines, two on each wing. It flew closer to an airport below inside a detective laid in his seat with a hat over his head snoring silently when he was disturbed by a noise

"Attention passengers we are approaching our destination please be patient while I land this bird. Thank you for flying unnamed american airlines and welcome to ravens burrough" the captain said

"Probably should stop watching movies and reading a book while drunk, that was a weird fuckin dream." Rob said, adjusting his hat.

The plane flew over the airport as a beaten, worn down black 1972 chevy el camino with racing stripes on the hood drove past the front gate greeting the world with a bang from the tailpipe while turning to park alongside the airport. Stoping beside the super modern style airport with a magnet on the bumper that said 'honk if you wanna fuck… no seriously'

After the plane had landed

The detective was wearing a black suit with a beige trench coat over it. That made him look like he'd just stepped out of the 1940's stood outside the airport clearly far more modern than him as a gust of wind blew the hat off his head and away as he stood there without a care.

"Well that's number four. Probably should stop buying hats." The detective said, adjusting his tie. While His eyes gazed upon his surroundings it was good to be home then his eyes landed on the el camino with a pink haired cat girl dressed in a red jacket and daisy dukes with a guitar over her back laying against it and facing the opposite direction and the distant sound of the radio playing from the open window "hey there Delilah what's it like in New York city.. I'ma thousand miles away but girl tonight you look so pretty" a muffled voice sang from the radio.

"New York city sucks ass, and I think I'm part of the mob now, I have no fuckin idea." The detective said walking over to the el camino.

The girls head slowly moved back and forth to the music as she could be heard humming to herself

"Oi! Jailbird!" The detective said. Causing the girl to jump as she admitted a loud cat shreaik. Before turning, revealing a set of aviators on her face and placing a silver and green prosthetic left arm on the hood of the car. In a manner that wasn't thrilled about being scared

"What? Not expecting to be called that?" The detective asked.

"No.. I wasn't expecting you to yell" she said.

"Well sorry, you weren't paying attention." The detective said.

"Thats alright.. I suppose my ears are sensitive" she said rubbing them.

"Sorry Ameila, that's what happens when you don't notice that I was talking." The detective said.

"I'm gonna get you back and you are not gonna like it" Ameila said, opening her car door.

"Oh lord no." The detective said getting in the car

"He ain't got nothing to do with this" Ameila said getting in

"And now I'm even more concerned." The detective said.

The inside of the car was a lot better than the outside with a full leather bench seat. The shifting stick was long and had an 8-ball on top and an air freshener that looked like a snake oil bottle hung from the rear view mirror. With not an ounce of trash to be found.

"Let's get this show on the road already I've had to wear this fuckin outfit for like a week straight." The Detective said. As Ameila laid her guitar behind the seat

"Alright I'm going I'm going no need to be pushy Rob." she said placing her prosthetic hand on the wheel and her right hand on the gear shift and her foot on the brake. And pushing it into drive as they took off. Her movements were a bit restricted but she could still drive fairly well.

"Sorry. Sorry, just excited to be home again." Rob said.

"I understand that, though sometimes you just gotta sit back and enjoy the ride." Ameila said, pulling up to the front gate. She placed her good hand on the radio knob and turned it with a bang from the exhaust the car swerved onto the road.

"I'm gonna enjoy the ride, but I'm more interested in the destination really." Rob said.

"Good ol unknown town USA" Ameila said.

"That's the worst nickname for the town ever." Rob said.

"What would you call it. We can't use weirdest little town in the USA" Ameila said

"Hmm. Good point." Rob said. as they past a rundown gas station called two point gas and go

"Loneliest little town in the USA?" Ameila asked shifting gear

"Definitely not. There's a shit load of couples and families." Rob said.

"No wait I got it" Ameila said

"We should call it unknown town USA!" She added.

"Perfect!" Rob said.

"Anyway so how was it" Ameila asked

"Eh, not much of interest really. Turns out the guy I was looking into joined the mob to support his family here and he doesn't want them mixed up in all that." Rob said.

"Guess it really is a small world huh" Ameila said

"Now he owes me several favors because of things I'm not legally allowed to disclose." Rob said.

"What the hell did you do this time" Ameila said

"Dealt with a human trafficking operation." Rob said

"Involving?" Ameila asked

"Not the mob if that's what you're asking. Chinese triads. Nasty business." Rob said.

"Ah then I guess I don't need to use the toy in the glove box then" Amelia said

"Like I said the mob owes me favors, they were adamant about getting rid of that operation. The guy in charge is actually a lot more level headed and actually has mostly respectable ethics." Rob said. Opening the glove box out of curiosity as a silver Smith and Wesson Model 500 fell in his lap

"OH! I see. I prefer mine though." Rob said

"Dont let it fool you that baby packs a punch. Now please put it back" Ameila said

"It's a model 500, of course it packs a punch. I prefer a 45 though, they also pack a punch but don't result in insane recoil." Rob said, putting the gun back.

"I prefer my Smith and Wesson Model 500. Because I don't even have to shoot it to scare people off" Amelia said

"Fair." Rob said.

"I won that baby at the craps table" Ameila said

"That sounds like a lie Eva used. At least twice. In fact, didn't you tell me you won it in a game of corn hole?" Rob asked.

"Could have sworn I said I won it at a knife throwing game at a fair" Ameila said

"That was another one. Blackjack, poker, backgammon, fuckin trivia. Shit you not fuckin scrabble." Rob said.

"I won it somewhere k? I've forgotten over the years" Ameila said

"Yeah. I know." Rob said. As the truck car hybrid flew down the a small hill and drove next to a large river driving towards a small plaza

"Are you hungry?" Ameila asked

"God yes." Rob said.

"Thrill Grill" it is Ameila said turning into the drive through and pulling around to the menu

"Double bacon cheeseburger." Rob said.

"Good choice" Ameila said

"Hi welcome to thrill burger! How can we serve you today" a voice asked

"One The Road Not Bacon. With extra bacon. And two Cheddar Late Than Nevers with a large fry and. Large coke… you want a drink" Ameila asked

"Make that two large cokes, one with no ice." Rob said.

"And another large coke with no ice" Ameila added

"Alright that's one The road not Bacon. With extra bacon. Two cheddar late than nevers a large fry and two large Cokes one without ice" the voice asked

"That is correct." Ameila replied

"Twenty dollars first window please" the voice said

"Awesomeness." Rob said.

"My wallets in the glove box. Can you get it please and not let my gun come flying out?" Ameila asked

"Here." Rob said, handing her a twenty dollar bill from his wallet.

"Absolutely fucking not" Ameila said rejecting it

"What I'm offering to pay as thanks for picking me up." Rob said, grabbing Ameila's wallet anyway.

Which was long half black half white with a yin yang on it

"Dude I got more money than I know what to do with" Ameila said

"Fair enough." Rob said.

Soon they were back on the road and they passed a sign that said Welcome to Ravens Borough, Oregon. The perfect place to start a family

"Gooood morning Ravens burrough and Ravens claw this is your host Jack mickfinagen bringing you the news. Today's forecast is sunny with a high of 63 an. Later tonight we'll be reviving a visit from our old friend the purple fog. And if you're feeling bored. This weekend is the annual anniversary of our town. Come on down to Raven's burrough national park and learn about your founding mother and receive a speech from local mayors elizabeth morningstar and Athena morningstar. There will be games and free food. And rides " An enthusiastic male voice said over the radio. As the el camino drove through town coming to a stop outside a modest yet still rundown two story detectives office

"I am so gonna need to change jobs at some point because that place could collapse whenever." Rob said.

"Looks fine to me it just has abit of character" Ameila said

"It definitely does." Rob said. Opening the door to get out as a bucket of water fell on his head

"How in the hell did that even happen." Rob said.

"Life is full of many mysteries" Ameila said taking off

"Well at least I have another reason to get out of this outfit." Rob said entering the office to see a five foot two albino woman with shoulder length hair wearing a black sweater, jeans and red and black striped socks that go up behind the jeans sitting on his desk.

"Welcome home, looks like I'm not the only one who's wet." The woman said with a giggle as Rob casually walked over and kissed her.

"Fuck I missed you Eva." Rob said as the woman wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"And I missed you too." Eva said.

"I'm glad to be back. New York was… interesting. Dealt with a human trafficking operation, helped the guy that was worried his wife was cheating on him. That's gonna take a long while to explain to his wife." Rob said.

"Stop talking. I'm already wet." Eva said as Rob picked her up and carried her up the stairs to their apartment.

Ameila's feet slapped through the water under her while she walked away from her car and through an alley way wearing an old barmaid outfit with the color scheme dark red and white. Turning left as she came to a set of stairs that were hidden and didn't stand out against the alleyway and slowly made her way down. Reaching the bottom where she turned her head to the left where a medium sized led sign flickered and buzzed with the words Hearts of Steel on it.

[fillinforlater]

Phone: Angel of Infinity +2

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Wang Yiren

Length: 1763 words

Tags: anal, full nelson, stand-and-carry, rough, various forms of oral, squirting, talkative!Yiren, cumdump!Minju

TW: QUICKIE. UNEDITED

(A/N: Tumblr deleted the ask, I hope the person who send this will still see this. If I drown in Minju, you all shall as well!)

„Hello, hello. Minmin, my cute little angel, where are you? Is it okay that I just walked into the front door and—oh, hello there!”

With an annoyed eye-roll you stop the movement of your hips, ending the deep thrusting into Minju’s mouth. Her whines and hums on your cock keep you hard, as does the general warmth and the dancing of her tongue. At first you thought you would hate having to stop something this fun, but Minju does a great job of keeping you stimulated.

You might just cum from this sensation alone, so a quick spin of your head to actually see the intruder should distract you. A large, brown overcoat covers the small frame of a black-haired girl, only her adorable head sticking out at the top. Her lovely, naïve sounding voice from before now is a lot more sultry, but neither shocked nor slower:

“You two seem to have a lot of fun. That is so you, Minmin: always having a cock in you while a friend talks to you. Do you mind if we share him? I really want something in me, and he looks reall—Oh my Gosh!”

Her speedy onslaught of words is interrupted when your cock pops out from between Minju’s lips and stands proudly in its full length, glistening with spit. With a satisfied grin and almost fully closed eyes—maybe she is completely drunk on your dick, who knows—she gracefully gets up from the bed and moves to her friend, wide hips swaying side to side.

“I think I know what you are wearing. Don’t you want to show Minju’s new fuck daddy?” the naked woman says while leaning in for a passionate kiss, making the new guest flush for the first time. Now, she is speaking slowly, while unbuttoning the coat that brushes the ground.

“Of course, Minmin. Hello, daddy. My name is Yiren, and I would like to cum violently on your monster cock. Please fill me up! I hope you like my outfit.”

The coat drops like a curtain, revealing to you a black-leather one piece, the shape of a swimsuit, with black, knee-high boots. Her pale thighs and left arm are all that is exposed of her skin, but it looks flawless and smooth. You can’t wait to dig your fingers into it—and so you don’t wait.

While you rub your fingers one by one across Yiren’s small, yet soft thighs, Minju yanks Yiren’s black ponytail backwards roughly and relentlessly nibbles at her friends jaw, eliciting girlish moans. Yiren, her eyes closed at the all the sensations happening at her body, starts to whimper as her hand digs into your back, pulling you closer.

“Minmin, please, share your new fuck daddy with me!”

“Minju had to share him already today. Maybe Minju should hog him all to herself, huh?”

Suddenly, your cock touches the black fabric at Yiren’s crotch. You expected it to be cold from the fresh winter air outside, but it is actually warm from the juices behind it. Yiren’s hand reaches down and all you hear—while she licks at your chest like it’s her favorite popsicle—is a zipper being opened.

“Daddy, please: Use one of my two holes. Use them hard, rough, without mercy! Fuck, I need it!”

The tears of desperation are not yet in the physical world, but you can definitely feel them already. Yiren’s voice and her excessive use of words finally makes you crave her whole being. Just a quick turn around and shove at her back, and she is bend over before you.

The opened zipper perfectly exposes her pink, dripping pussy, as well as her petite, pretty ass-cheeks. Minju goes on her knees and spreads those creamy cheeks to show you what’s in between: A red-diamond butt-plug. And definitely not a small one.

“Look daddy! Isn’t this cute? Yiren likes rough butt-sex, so you better give it to her, before she cries,” Minju laughs and rubs her upper cheek on Yiren’s lower cheek, doing aegyo.

Having heard enough words, you take the diamond in your hand and slowly twist and pull at it. Gradually, Yiren’s anal cavity grips it less ferociously and you groan in excitement when it is finally removed. Drop the toy on the ground and line yourself up with the warm hole, already filled with lube. Shallow breaths for both of you two relax—then the long-awaited penetration.

“Daddy, yes! Give it all to m—”

There is no explanation for the following. Animalistic instinct, or something like that, but no one knows. You grab Yiren’s miniscule, jiggly thighs and pull her from the bend-over position to a full nelson, impaling your entire enormous length in her asshole. Her light body pressing and compressing down on your cock feels like the definition of ecstasy; and becomes her ecstasy when you move her up and down.

Shrieks, incoherent mumbling, breathless moans, spastic trembling and multiple gushes of juice are all that’s left of the adorable, talkative Yiren, as you use her the way she recommended. Just a fleshlight you move up and down your cock. A fun-sized woman, with widespread legs. The boots still on them are like a cherry on top, as well as the leather on her torso.

Minju’s eyes show you how jealous she is. She want’s to be in this position so badly, having your cock deep in her asshole, while cumming non-stop from the pleasure. Her lips find Yiren’s—mouth lips on pussy lips, to be specific. You only hear the slurps and feel Yiren get even tighter around you, her puckered hole now trying to tear off your cock.

But nothing can make you stop fucking Yiren now. It’s just too much fun, seeing her in constant overstimulation, one orgasm following the next, thus making her relax and contract in waves of pleasure for your cock. The unique texture of her petite insides make every trip from tip to base a roller coaster ride of pure bliss.

It all comes to a rapid climax when not one, but two mouths suck at your massive balls. You did not notice Tzuyu waking up again, positioned between your parted legs and Minju moving further down from Yiren’s pink cunt—and when they both meet and use their luscious lips to stimulate you further, you drop Yiren one last time and cum deep inside her back entrance.

The unexpected hit of warmth makes her speak again—or at least attempt it:

“F-Fuck, cum! Cream, white, fuck! So much, hot, fuck, fuck. I’m cumming! Oh Gosh, more, dripping. W-White cum for the w-white dragon. Fuck! Fuck me!”

This is it. If it is possible to die of having too many orgasms in a short amount of time, your chances of survival plummet significantly with this large burst. You slowly drop yourself and the tiny, quivering woman in your arms to the empty bed. Although it’s still hard, your cock hurts from all the fucking, sucking and cumming.

Tzuyu rises from the ground, a soft smile on her messy face. With utmost care she pulls Yiren away from you and tugs the shorter, stumbling girl in a blanket, your sperm coming out of her back hole, staining it. Like you would care. Two gorgeous, satisfied angels lying next to you; every man would envy you, kill you for the right to be with them for a night. Good thing you got the phone.

But before you can join them in their cuddles and adventures to dreamland, the one who calls herself @Angel climbs on top of you, pressing her juices and sweat onto you.

“Minju is proud of you. You satisfied both the Puppy and the White Dragon.”

“And how about the Angel?” you ask jokingly, stroking her hair as she rest on your chest. It heaves up and down and so does Minju’s ass. The seductive wiggle makes your mind dizzy, but no way you find the strength to fuck again. Not today, hell, maybe not this week.

“Minju Angel is a cumdump. Minju is never satisfied.”

“A-Are you serious? How many times did you cum today?”

“Seventeen times.”

You grab her chin in disbelief, staring into her dark brown eyes. Lust, sadness, longing, you see in them. She is not lying, but how the fuck does she function as a human being, in society, in real-life?

“C-Can y-you make it 21, please? For Minju?”

Her aegyo again. Her fucking aegyo. It starts a blur that you will probably regret later on. But later is not now, so you drag Minju roughly off the mattress and carry her to a wall. Your hard cock, throbbing in pain, slips into her puckered hole easily—wait, what?

“Where did you get the lube from?”

“Yiren had it in her pocket. Minju s-stole it.”

You pound her into the wall, eliciting a loud scream of shock and arousal from her pursed lips.

“Minju likes to be punished, huh? How about this as a punishment?”

Two fingers rub a nipple between them, while two others do the same to her hard clit. Wetness covers your fingers immediately, her first orgasm came quick, and you are glad, because fucking her asshole is more painful work than it is amazing sex.

Minju’s hole keeps you hard, Minju’s body keeps you exited, Minju’s moans keep you sane. Or maybe it is the opposite. No more maybes for today, when you pull her up and carry her on your cock and hands. Juices of orgasms spray the floor and carpets, the smell of sex will never leave this room.

“M-Minju cumdump h-has 20.”

“Let’s fucking finish it. I might even cum one more time, j-just for you and your stupid butthole.”

“Yes! Let’s cum together. Please, for Minju? Give her your baby batter?”

This is too much. You can’t take her anymore. Heavy thrusts as you lower her to her feet and fuck her above the faces of her friends. Tzuyu and Yiren wake up from the loud noise of her euphoric screams and your agony filled groans, when Minju squirts liters on to their faces and bodies. A whole fucking shower erupts from her pussy, made more chaotic by her furious rubs of the pink lips.

With a last, tiny spurt of cum on her ass, or in her ass—you have no clue—you collapse and fall into abyss. At least you died fucking the three most stunning, gorgeous and feral women on this planet.

Wait, are they even from this planet?

[goldencuffs]

untraditional

@lamenweek day five: traditions

Damen doesn’t think he’s supposed to feel so bone-weary at thirty-one.

Everything in his body aches, and he’s already greying at his temples. Last night, he had gone to bed at eight.

Theomedes doesn’t look up from the Ios Financial Times when Damen enters the Drawing Room. The table already has been set: Damen’s seat is, as usual, is to the left of his father, exactly fourty-seven centimetres apart. Damen’s food has been already served, because his father got here before him, and everyone gets served the same time as Theomedes.

Damen’s entire life has been dictated by these traditions, guidelines and precedents.

Some of them are good, but most of them are like this: nonsensical and elitist.

Even Theomedes’ and Damianos’ tea is prepared via strict protocol: one teaspoon of loose tea leaves per cup, heated to a hundred degrees celcius (seventy for green tea), with a tablespoon of organic, raw honey added straight to the teapot.

(It’s amazing tea, though).

Theomedes says, “Your food is cold.”

Damen stares at the pile of mash potatoes and salmon. “I’m not hungry.”

He also hates salmon, but Theomedes is the only one who sets the menu for the week with the head chef. Last week, they had roast beef and vegetables four times.

“You’re not still sulking are you?” Theomedes finally says, three minutes later.

Damen grips his table fork. He forces himself to do the breathing exercises Makedon had taught him.

In an ideal world, he wouldn’t reply, but in this one, everyone answered to the King.

“No, sir,” Damen says, and shoves a polite bite of food in his mouth.

“You haven’t had a meal with me in three weeks,” Theomedes says, and he sounds hurt and disappointed.

“Hmm,” Damen says. “I’ve been busy. You know I’ve been working on the preservation of Marlas with Nikandros.”

Theomedes crosses his fork and knife over his plate. Instantly, three different staff members rush forward to clear the table.

Damen’s plate is cleared too; no one eats after the King has left. Another useless, bane tradition.

“You know I did what’s best for you,” Theomedes says, looming over Damen.

When Damen nods, Theomedes kisses his temple. “You’ll realise it sooner, rather than later.”

“Yes, sir,” Damen says quietly, and rises only after Theomedes has left, as is protocol.

*

An hour later, the itch under Damen’s skin becomes unbearable, and he finds himself burrowing under the left corner of his mattress for certain… supplies.

He pulls on the red, shoulder-length curly wig with little care, and then the faux-leather beret. It’s peeling and terrible, but Damen doesn’t care.

The rest of his outfit is just layers: sunglasses, two coats, scarves, and a muted shirt, to hide as much of his body as possible.

He normally doesn’t leave so early in the day, when he’s being patrolled by guards and the Kyros.

Luckily, it’s only Nikandros who catches him, right outside his door.

His expression is flat. “You’re not serious. You’re leaving now? We’re in the middle of drafting the Delpha treaty!”

Damen shrugs. “I have to go.”

“You don’t have to—” Nikandros cuts himself off with a sigh. “Whatever. Can you please bring me back those caramel slices?”

Damen grins. “You got it, boss.”

Once he’s past the Main Foyer, the rest of the journey is easy: Damen takes an hour and a half train ride from Central Ios to Andris, and then a fifteen minute bus ride on the eighty-six. And then finally, an eight minute walk to the Andris Office District.

There’s a small bookstore there called Pocket Bookmark, painted emerald green, the lettering done in gold.

Inside, it’s not too busy: it’s not quite the end of a business day, and the customers in here are high school students, skimming the Shakespeare section, and a man hovering near the new releases.

Damen keeps his head down, weaving through the aisles.

Nicaise, the mouthy teenage cashier rolls his eyes when he sees Damen approaching, lifting up the wooden flap on on the bench, allowing Damen to duck through.

“Thanks, kid,” Damen says, mussing his hair.

“Ah, fuck off,” Nicaise grunts, but fondly. He’s warmed up to Damen ever since Damen bought him his first car. (Nothing too flashy, obviously).

Damen hurries all the way to the back, opening the door marked, No entry, and then goes up the narrow steps, which always make the worst creaking noises.

There’s another door a the small porch upstairs, and Damen fishes out the key in his pocket to open it.

Instantly, he’s hit with the smell of butter chicken simmering on the stove, and his mouth salivates. He dumps his entire attire by the small settee in the hallway, inhaling gratefully.

The second thing he’s greeted with is Wendy, who meows and claws at his leg.

“Come here, baby,” Damen murmurs, picking her up and holding her to his chest. She purrs and curls up, like a big ball of fluff and he kisses her head. “I love you so much.”

She meows in response, and snuggles closer.

Laurent turns off the stove in the tiny kitchen. He looks over his shoulder for just a second and scrunches his nose. “Ugh, she’s such a slut. I’ve been petting her for the last hour, but apparently I’m just not good enough.”

Laurent is in his after work attire: which means he’s as half dressed as possible. The shirt he’s wearing is one of Damen’s, and his shorts are the pair that shrunk in the wash; they ride too high up his thigh.

Laurent’s just come out of the shower: the hair at his nape is still wet, and his skin is pinked and glowing. Even with the curry, Damen can smell jasmine and coconut.

Laurent has got this sweet, soft smile that lights up his eyes.

It takes Damen’s breath away: not just Laurent, but this entire picture of domesticity. It’s all Damen’s wanted his entire life.

He means to make a snarky comment about Wendy, but what comes out is: “Marry me.”

Laurent drops the wooden spoon, eyes wide.

Damen grips Wendy too tightly and she lets out a shriek and jumps out of his arms.

They stare at each other for a moment. Damen’s heart is racing.

Laurent blinks. “Oh, sorry. I think I hallucinated for a minute.”

Damen steps forward, smiling. “It wasn’t a hallucination. Marry me.”

Laurent makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “Are you asking me or telling me?” He swallows, eyes darting all over Damen’s face, his body. “I don’t see a ring,” he says quietly.

Damen groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, I know. I had this whole plan, I was going to propose with the Queen’s ring, but obviously I’d have to talk to my father first and—” He sits down at the kitchen table, pulling out his phone. “There’s a courthouse ten minutes from here. It’s Thursday night, so they’re still open. We just need to show up with a signed ‘Intended Marriage Certificate’. It’s like three pages, we’ll be fine.”

“…Oh.” Laurent has gone very still. “You’re looking up courthouses. You’re serious.”

“Shit,” Damen says, watching him. “I’m so sorry. You—Do you want to marry me, Laurent? Because I’ve been dying to marry you since I first saw you. Er. No pressure, though.”

Laurent glares at him, affronted. “Of course I want to marry you, you fucking idiot!”

Damen leaps to his feet, grinning and flushed. “Fuck yeah! Let’s go print this form and—”

“Damen!” Laurent laughs, looking a little crazed. “We can’t just—Just wait a minute.”

“Alright. Shoot, baby.”

Predictably, Laurent flushes pink. “Is it even legal? Aren’t there special ceremonies for royals? And—and the King still thinks we broke up!”

Damen winces a little at that.

After an entire year of sneaking around, of meeting up in discreet hotels, and making plans to move in together one day, Damen had fucked up three weeks ago.

Drunk and enamoured, he had kissed Laurent outside his bookstore after a date. There had been photos—and the only saving grace had been the fact that Laurent’s face had been inscrutable.

But the fact that he was a commoner had been enough for Theomedes to unleash his rage. He had ordered Damen to break things off with Laurent, and Damen had pretended to, but… Well, Laurent had been hurt. It had been the first time he had realised how shaky their entire relationship was, how quickly it could come crumbling down.

Damen had spent days convincing him otherwise, and Laurent had finally agreed, but there had still been shadows in his eyes.

Now—now, though, Damen realises exactly what he can do, what he should have done months ago, to make Laurent realise he’s it.

“Fuck the King,” Damen says. He finally closes the distance between them, gripping Laurent’s hands. “Laurent, listen. I can still get married legally in a civil ceremony.”

“But—” Laurent bites his lip. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. And,” His voice grows small. “I know there’s so many rules and traditions you have to follow. I’ve read about the whole tradition where your father is supposed to gift you a diptych piece.”

Damen’s heart is warm. He smiles down at Laurent, smitten. “You’ve read up on royal wedding traditions?”

Laurent colours even more. “Of course.”

Damen kisses him hard, unable to bare the love swelling up inside him. Laurent flings his arms around Damen’s neck, his mouth emitting small, sweet gasps.

When they pull apart, Damen presses his forehead to Laurent’s. “Fuck the King,” he repeats. “Fuck the customs and rules and traditions. You are the only thing that matters to me. Just forget everything for a moment and answer: do you want to go downtown and marry me?”

Laurent’s smile overtakes his face, his eyes shining. “Yes,” he says softly. “I want to—so much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you in a better way or give you a ring or—”

“Stop. This was absolutely perfect.” He sighs. “You’re perfect.”

Damen kisses him again, pressing him to the counter. “I want you to have my mother’s ring.”

Laurent buries his head into Damen’s chest, overwhelmed. He nods.

Damen drops a kiss to his hair. “Get changed, baby. We’re getting married.”

Laurent looks up at him in wonder. “We’re getting married.”

[ranty-ramblestein]

(captions~) May 16th: Well, nothing interesting happened for a while (because my Shining Force hyperfixation flared up...), but Today is when Maple Leaf Season in Solaceon starts, which means Balloon Hunting for the Maple-Leaf Rug’s DIY!

Also: Axel got a cold from the in-coming chill... and Mint was visiting her girlfriend’s colorful home!  Applemint shipping continues~

May 17th: New Outfit Tuesday (N.O.T...?) was back for Croissant, who finally got into the My Melody shirt and matching boots~  I think the twin buns were a great choice for the matching hairstyle~

...But, uhh, I realized I had completely forgotten about Cinnamoroll’s clothes??  I had planned on doing a black/blue outfit next, and I don’t wanna do blue-focused outfits twice in a row, so there’ll be a weird one in between probably, lol.

Oh, and the final piece of the Sloppy set finally popped up for me in the Recycling Bin!  I still need the paper bundle, the ripped coats, and the rest of the dirty tank tops from the bin, though...

May 19th: I caught Del visiting Mira and got some cute dialogue... but I also took some more images, so read below the cut for those!

pic 1: "Oh, nice, I can get that new rug DIY starting today!" Croissant gasped, hopping out of bed excitedly. pic 2: "I guess I can't jog without a shirt at night anymore..." Axel sighed.  "Yeah, please use the jacket I gave you when you go jogging at night," Croissant suggested. pic 3: "Oh! I didn't mean to bother you two!" Croissant gasped. "No bother at all!" Mint assured him.  "Yeah, I was just showing her my colorful room~" Apple smiled. M: "Maybe I should get a mini stove...?" pic 4: "Awesome, another piece from the Sloppy Set!" Croissant gasped, filing it away in his pockets until he got to Harv's Island. pic 5: Before he set off in the planes, though, I finally put Croissant in the My Melody shirt and boots!  (...I forgot entirely about the Cinnamoroll clothes until today.) pic 6: I zoomed in with the camera so get a closer picture of the matching flower theme on the bag~ (I almost gave him the pink beaded clasp purse, but this was just fine!) pic 7: The pink shirt from other custom-variants of items featuring clothes was also available, but I wanted to show off the fucked-up shirt and the bent leather pillow, lol. pic 8: These two large rugs were new for Croissant! pic 10: "Aww, Mira!" Croissant smiled.

After talking to Del and Mira, I noticed Del’s Birthday Notice had went up!

When I looked in his room later I realized the jigsaw puzzle was missing, so I got him a board game to play with his boyfriend and Cranky Friends!

The checkered school skirt just feels wrong in this outfit... So I decided to replace it with this skirt! I’m amazed I don’t have any of these skirts in storage? They’re really cute!  I did order some darker pink skirts, though; To possibly match the shirt’s collar.

[creativeashproductions]

We Wouldn’t Be Us // Charlie Gillespie

IN WHICH: We get a look into the timeline of the reader and Charlie’s relationship from the first date that wasn’t so perfect to the news they get. The relationship has its ups and downs like all relationships do but this one brings the birth of a song. They know in their relationship that anything less just wouldn’t be them

Warnings: Swearing, an argument, allusion to sex (NO SMUT), pure fluff

Words: 3.1k

A/N: I suppose this is an entry for @cherrymaybank​’s Valentine’s Day Fic Challenge. 

Based on the song We Wouldn’t Be Us by Alexandra Kay

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Every dress didn’t seem to fit properly no matter what mirror with different light in your apartment you tried. The spare bathroom’s bulb was dying, so that made the colour appear off, and the best mirror was dirty, which would dampen the romantic goal. Nothing made you feel that oomph that you desired for this date. 

You could wear the standby little black dress of which you had two options, the clubbing one or the work appropriate one. It didn’t seem right to choose a standard black and no colour for this insanely sweet guy that had this insane energy. With that thought in mind, you dug deeper in your closet for that special dress that you’d never found someone worthy of it. It was your best dress and your most expensive with the tags still on. You would have gone for the maroon dress but it was Valentine’s Day and that seemed like over kill.

Somehow it still fit perfectly despite the length of time from purchase, it was a vibrant green satin with lace matching the colour. The dress's satin ended just below the knee with the matching lace falling an additional six inches past. The A-line skirt was loose flowing contrasting to the form-fitting material across your bust and midsection. 

One of your favourite parts of the dress was the off-shoulder bateau neckline that gave a tasteful sneak of your cleavage. The bottom of the thick straps came to make a perfectly straight horizontal line. Across your waist was a one-inch wide satin ribbon attached to the dress that formed a perfect bow that tied the outfit together, no pun intended.

“Whoa.” You breathed stepping in front of the floor-length mirror kept in the spare bedroom, it had once been your roommates’ room before she moved.

You had to admit the dress was magical with it, bringing out all your curves and went with your skin tone. It was a pure shock to see how you managed to make the dress come to life with just a makeup look that was easy to do. All you did next was your favourite beige heels that went with everything. You had just slid on the left heel when the buzzer sounded and slid the right on as you hit the button unlocking the apartment building door.

“This is going to be perfect.” You breathed leaning into the mirror beside the front door. You inspected your lipstick as a knock sounded on the dark brown wood of your door. 

“You look gorgeous.” Your date breathed, widening those colour changing irises as he took in your outfit, “You take my breath away. Happy Valentine’s Day”

Your cheeks flushed, “Thank you, Charlie.”

He stepped into the apartment as you quickly went to the kitchen to grab your coat and purse with your essentials. He had gently retrieved the coat from your arms to help you into the cold jacket. 

“I know traditionally I would have brought you flowers, but I also know you love books.” Charlie breathed grasping the items in his hands, “So I got these flowers.”

His warm hands held three books. The top one was The Orchid House by Lucinda Riley with a cover that had the background blurry with only the back of a girl in clarity. The girl’s pink dress matching the flower in the upper corner of the book. The next cover proudly displayed The Rose Garden by Susanna Kearsley with red flowers growing down on a stone building. The third one was a light pink book with an anatomically correct heart with flowers growing out of the arteries, veins and valves; a collection of poetry I Saw You As a Flower by Ellen Everett. Lastly, you held Rupi Kaur’s second collection of poetry The Sun and her Flowers that had come out a couple years ago.

“Charlie, this is so thoughtful. You even has a rose one!” You breathlessly spoke gently touching the covers, “Thank you so much for these.”

“I thought we could read them together?” Charlie was bashful as he quietly asked with flushed cheeks. He didn’t know why he felt like this was his very first date all over again.

“I’d love that.” You softly told the Canadian with the manners a mother would be jealous to have in her home. Charlie’s fingers linked with yours as he tugged you out of the apartment into the hallway.

Your hands swung during the short walk from the apartment building to his bright orange Subaru across the street. The sound of the light wind rustling the trees lining the sidewalk mixed with the humming from Charlie was a perfect film score. He was the ideal gentleman even before he asked you out.

You couldn’t wait to tell your close loved ones about Charlie. You could really see this going somewhere. The relationship that is, as you were now on the side of a road with the Subaru’s hazard lights flashing.

“I forgot to fill the tank.” Charlie moaned, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel. His eyes clenched just as tight as his fists.

The Canadian was so embarrassed to have had what he thought was the best date of his life. He’d played music from the playlist he had patiently curated specifically for this date, and he held your hand to the restaurant. He’d already made plans for another date when his car’s warning beeped.

In Charlie’s haste, he’d forgotten to fuel up his car, so here he was with the prettiest person he’d ever seen in his passenger seat. His confidence in a second date had greatly diminished.

“Char, you said Owen was on his way. There isn’t anyone else I’d prefer to be stranded with. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I wanted this date to go perfect. This is my first Valentine’s Day with someone.” Charlie admitted turning his head to stare into warm pools of your e/y colours. His eyes scanned the soft smile that appeared on your face as his confession, “I had this whole thing planned out, and now you definitely won’t want a second-”

“I’m gonna kiss you. If you don’t want that, let me know.” You murmured before pulling him in for what would be the best kiss of your life thus far.

Sure his car broke down, but you kissed him anyway. He tasted of the complimentary chocolate dessert from dinner.

A Year Later

A young, admittedly broke couple sat on the cold floor of the unpacked kitchen eating SpaghettiOs. You had only just moved into the studio apartment with Charlie that had drained most of your savings. Had it not been in a decently safe area in the city and a close commute you would have said no.

But it was the perfect starting place for you two as you both were unfamiliar with living with an SO. It sucked on each of your ends to not have a better situation, Charlie wanted nothing more than to spoil you on the first day living together. Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible but sitting on the floor with a cheap candle was imperfectly perfect.

“I’m sorry we’re eating out of cans.” Charlie whispered pointedly, keeping his eyes on the spoon, stirring the red sauce with the beige circles.

“Char this is perfect. As long as it’s you and I then anything is perfect. Besides we didn’t label the boxes, I have no idea which box has our kitchenware.” You admitted glancing at the boxes boarding the edge of the room. 

You ate out of cans for at least a week before you had unpacked the kitchen and had the means to buy actual groceries. Living together thus far had been going super smooth until wasn’t.

It was a bad day on both your parts, your entire work was deleted after a computer glitch. Charlie had auditioned for a role he had been really really wanting since he heard about it. Your father came down with the flu axing the plans to meet for dinner; it would have been the first time in six months you saw him in person.

The apartment's atmosphere had been rising and very volatile by mid-afternoon when Charlie blatantly forgot a deal. If he was going to play music, it had to be in the study so you could focus on your work. 

Today he’d decided to be in close vicinity to have a virtual jam session with both Owen and Jeremy. He’d chosen the room you were in solely because it had the best wifi reception which you needed as well.

“Charlie, please can you go to the study? I’m trying to finish this!” You cried out as he struck a chord on the electric. His eyebrows came other in the glare he sent you, “I lost all my work last night.”

“The guys and I are working on songs-”

“-Charlie, this is due tonight. I can’t concentrate with-”

“It’s not my fault you have a shitty attention span!” Charlie angrily snapped contradicting the gentle touch on his guitar. He placed it back on the stand to not accidentally damage it, “The wifi is best in this room.”

“I’m very much aware of that Charlie. Out of the two of us, I use it the most. Can you please either move to the study or at least wait an hour so I can finish?” You pleaded with the Canadian actor ignoring the two guys on the computer silently waiting for the fight to be over.

“Why can't you mov-”

“Fine. I will.” You fully stared down your boyfriend for a full five seconds before you harshly closed the top of your computer. It took seconds to gather your work stuff into the leather satchel you stored the computer in, “You didn’t even mute the call.”

Charlie watched as you swiftly pulled on your jacket, “Babe-”

The sound of the door slamming shut cut his sentence before he even had a chance to speak his thoughts. The apartment was eerily silent compared to the sounds of music that always played through the Bluetooth speaker.

The inspiration to play evaporated with the aftermath of a stupid argument permeated the apartment typically filled with love. All three actors quietly said their goodbyes before they ended the video call.

You spent an hour uncomfortably sitting in a cafe finishing up what you’d needed to finish with the argument replaying. Your finger barely hit the button to send the email before you had already stepped outside the business. You spent the walk struggling to draft a text to your boyfriend. 

It didn’t matter because when you walked into the apartment, you heard the soft song you’d both deemed yours. It was cheesy, but that was part of Charlie’s charm. Speaking of your boyfriend, he was sat on the floor of your kitchen with matching mugs of brownies.

“I’m sorry. I was insensitive.” Charlie started as soon as your jacket was draped over one of the kitchen chairs. His usually wide smile was as bashful as the one he’d worn on the night of your first date.

“No I’m sorry, Charlie. I could have easily put on my headphones or moved to the bedroom for a bit. The fight was stupid, and I love you so much that sometimes I think I take you for granted. I mean, look at you! You made the brownie cups-”

“Even sitting on the cold floor like when we moved in.” Charlie cheekily inserted, reaching over to hold your hands in his, “I like our tradition. I definitely like how we upgraded from SpaghettiOs to brownies.”

“Me too.” You breathed leaning over to press a lingering kiss on his lips. His hands delving into your hair to keep you close.

The butterflies stormed your stomach as the heat slowly inflated from your toes until it reached your flushing cheeks. Raw emotion pouring into the passionate kiss that only closed down as you broke for air. But you also went back in as that warmth slowly built in your tummies. Charlie’s eyes marginally opened to ensure he wasn’t imagining the Angel he got to kiss.

Finally, with heavy breathing, you pulled apart, but only a fleeting moment froze the time in the apartment. For, as soon as Charlie caught your dilated pupils, his one hand cupped the back of your hand, fingers tangled in your h/c tresses. 

Soon enough, you were making up on the kitchen floor with each article of clothing tossed in the vicinity. A shirt landed on the kitchen sink spout. The brownie mugs forgotten as you gave into the passion with your boyfriend. Your lovemaking had you missing supper.

Charlie’s solution was a trip to the local authentic English pub founded by a nice guy from London. You never failed to stop him for a dance in the empty street as his smooth voice gave music for smooth motions. Dancing was a common thing from pulling off the road in Dieppe to dance. You drank and danced at the pub until Jack cut you off at 2am as his pub rules had.

You and Charlie just laughed in a love bubble as the real-world worries faded because you always came together in the rough times.

Months later you returned to Dieppe with Charlie to spend the holidays with them. The entire family together creating such a welcoming atmosphere.

“I’m gonna grab a glass of water.” You informed the group of gals ad non-binary pals who had gathered in Meghan’s bedroom. The group had decided to sleep over Meg’s childhood room with face masks, nail polish and lovely wine.

Meg and Jeannette both nodded to acknowledge your announcement before they returned to their respective conversations. You took a moment to take in the great group of Gillespie and Co you had the honour to be part of. The thirst was only temporarily forgotten in the happy bubble you found yourself in.

You practically skipped to the kitchen, barely noticing the two people in the living room, but their words stopped you in your tracks. Your boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie, stood close to his older brothers Ryan, Patrick and Michael.

“I’m gonna ask her to marry-” Charlie caught himself from finishing the sentence when he saw you standing pale-faced at the opening into the living room.

His entire body was encapsulated by the lights casting in the living room from the Christmas tree. The tree couldn’t hold a candle to the ring of your dreams that promptly had you bursting into tears.

“I RUINED THE SURPRISE!” You sobbed dropping your face into your cold hands, avoiding the gaze of the Gillespie brothers. Had you not been hiding in your hands you would have known the older three had vacated the room.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Charlie cooed with the ring safely put away in the box he had shoved back in his pocket, “You didn’t ruin the surprise. I shouldn’t have been telling my brothers in the middle of the living room.”

Charlie’s warm hands slowly pulled your hands from your soft post-mask skin with such a pretty healthy glow. He could see the remnants of the mask on the edge of your scalp, but it didn’t take away from your beauty.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, staring up at him from underneath your eyelashes. The soft hazel eyes not upset in the least, things often didn’t go the way you wanted to together.

Take the first date from over two years ago where you and Charlie had waited for Owen to meet you with a jug of gas. You’d shared childhood stories and future dreams. Or the time you hadn’t marked the boxes creating an entire week of eating out of cans and cartons.

Ruining the proposal was almost expected at this rate.

“I knew from the moment I saw you in that emerald dress I knew that you were the One for me. I’ve adored each moment I’ve gotten with you from the spontaneous dances on the side of the road. To bursting into song in the middle of the street.” Charlie shakily started with sweating bands but an open heart, “When your best friend told me the emerald dress was the special one, it melted my heart.”

“Charlie.”

“Other than my belief that this relationship will last, I was only ever sure of one thing in my life. I was sure I would be an actor, but now I’m more sure that my favourite role will be supporting you, loving you and evolving with you as your husband.” Charlie sniffled, taking one hand from yours to wipe the tears flooding his cheeks, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” You breathed lunging on your tiptoes to kiss him with as much passion as you could. Your hands caressed the skin of his cheeks; his long tresses tickling your wrists.

“God I love you.” Charlie gushed with a gentle shake of his head. His hazel pinned to your e/c eyes as if you were the most precious gem in the world.

A voice cut the bubble enveloping you, “Well are you gonna put the ring on her finger or what?”

Charlie’s head moved to meet the teary eyes of his mother surrounded by his siblings as they bounced on their feet. You laughed as your now fiance clumsily rushed to slide the absolutely gorgeous ring on your finger. 

“Welcome to the family officially.” Jeannette cheered along with the celebratory whistles and yells as the crowd of the family grew more and more. Soon enough, the entire room was overflowing with people congratulating your new engagement.

Months later, you stood in front of that same group holding the hands of your handsome fiance. Both dressed to the nines in front of the officiant.

“I wasn’t looking for a fairytale, because they all end the same. The princess has a conflict that she revolves with the help of the prince. They get married and live happily ever after. I adore how we’re writing our own story that fits our relationship. Charlie Gillespie, I wouldn’t change a thing about our lives. I wouldn’t have it any other way even with the fighting and slamming doors, but we always end up on our kitchen floor making up with two brownies in mugs.” Your vows brought tears among the onlookers along with the Canadian barely keeping it together.

The vows would later be eloquently transformed into lyrics from you with the accompanying melody provided by Charlie. On Valentine’s Day, you played the song on the kitchen floor with a plate of brownies. Three brownies waiting to be devoured.

“Three for each of us.” You wept as you watched as Charlie melted into a puddle of joyful tears. He took no time in placing his hand over your flat stomach.

Yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Especially when Valentine’s Day become more to the Gillespie family; a new little love taking up the day.

(Reader’s Dress In Beginning)

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[elvendara]

Sugar and Spice Day 1

July 12th

Ice Cream Date

Yoosung opened the door and stepped into the airconditioned shop. He checked his phone. The profile picture of his date was on the screen. The man had red hair, green eyes, and freckles. He was also wearing eyeliner which made the green of his eyes really stand out. He had been surprised when they matched, but also excited and had said yes when the man, Saeran, had DM’d him and asked him on a date.

Looking around he couldn’t see a single red head. He checked the time. Yoosung was a little early so maybe he had arrived first. He made his way to a table in the front by the window. Watching the people walking outside he wondered again if he’d be stood up. Why would an attractive guy like Saeran even give him a second glance? His attention was inward and he didn’t notice those few people he passed.

“Yoosung?” he heard, and paused, turning slowly to see who had called him. A man with white hair and pink tips was looking at him. Yoosung looked him over, the hair was different, but he recognized the brilliant green eyes, like the ocean depths.

“Saeran?” he asked.

“Yeah.” The man grinned as he stood. “Sorry, I keep forgetting to change my profile pic.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Yoosung smiled, noting how differently they were dressed. Saeran wore a red shirt with a black leather coat, said coat having metal chains and zippers, most of which didn’t seem to have a specific function. There was a black collar around his neck with metal spikes and a matching cuff on his right wrist, his nails painted black. He wore black jeans and heavy biker boots.

In contrast, Yoosung wore his pink metal hair clips, keeping his blond hair out of his eyes. He had decided to match his hair clips and wore pink eyeliner and gloss. His outfit was an off the shoulder pink crop top with a purple paint splatter pattern, skinny purple jeans and pink platform sneakers. Around his left wrist was wrapped a pink, blue, and purple beaded necklace and his nails were a glittering deep pink. He suddenly felt like an over sprinkled strawberry ice cream cone.

“Well, it’s really nice to meet you.” Yoosung said, holding his hand out to shake.

“You too, you look great.” Saeran said as he took Yoosung’s hand in his. He held it longer than he needed to, but Yoosung didn’t mind. Those green eyes locked onto his own amethyst ones were mesmerizing.

“We should probably order huh?” Saeran said, letting go of his hand. It suddenly felt cold and lonely.

“Sure.” Yoosung strode towards the ice cream display. As he walked past Saeran, he felt the man put his right hand on his lower back, as if guiding him. He kept it there, walking up beside him until they were in front of the display case, when he took his hand off. Again, that feeling of pressing coldness and emptiness.

“What can I get for you?” The girl behind the counter asked. She must have been no older than sixteen. Her brown hair was held back in a ponytail, her chocolate-colored eyes intent on Saeran. It wasn’t difficult to see she was enamored by him. What was it they said? Girls like bad boys, right? Well, Saeran sure fit the stereotype, though it seemed to Yoosung that he was quite gentle. Maybe the tough guy look was a mask to keep people at bay? He really wanted to find out.

Yoosung watched as Saeran practically salivated over the choice of ice cream. He ended up with a waffle cone and three scoops of ice cream, vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. It made Yoosung grin to see how much like a little boy in a candy store he looked like.

Yoosung ordered a cup with a brownie at the bottom and two scoops on top, mint chocolate chip and butter pecan. The green reminded him of Saeran’s eyes. He felt his cheeks blush when he ordered it. They took their seats and began to eat.

“You really like ice cream huh?” Yoosung said.

Saeran’s eyes went wide, then softened. “I do, I like sweet things.” He eyed Yoosung and smirked before suggestively licking his ice cream. Yoosung swallowed, feeling like a fish on a hook being eyed by a hungry fisherman. It should feel uncomfortable, but it only raised his temperature with excitement. He fiddled with his ice cream, taking a spoonful and gulping it down.

“So, on your profile it says you like gardening? I have to be honest…” Yoosung set his spoon in his cup and leaned forward towards Saeran, “…I kind of thought that was a lie, or at least an exaggeration?” he stated jokingly.

Saeran threw his head back and laughed, his Adam’s apple bouncing, straining against the studded collar around his neck. “Oh no, it’s true. I like gardening. Sometimes it’s nicer to be around a bunch of beautiful flowers and plants than around people. They’re easier to understand at least.”

“Must be nice, I have a black thumb myself, I couldn’t even keep an ivy alive! It’s supposed to be one of the easiest plants not to kill.”

“True, aside from cactus, maybe you should start with one of those.” Saeran teased.

“Maybe. It certainly couldn’t hurt to add some greenery in my apartment.” Yoosung shrugged.

“How about you? Everything on your profile true?” Saeran asked.

“I think so. Well, maybe I tried to make myself look better than I am.” He laughed.

“How so?”

“I might have forgotten to mention how much time I spend on gaming.” He stated. Saeran laughed again, making Yoosung feel accomplished in a way. For some reason, it didn’t seem like Saeran laughed a lot. There was something behind his eyes that spoke of great pain.

“I think I can handle a little gaming in a boyfriend.” Saeran said, once he was in control again.

The statement startled Yoosung. Boyfriend? He was too stunned to speak.

“How come you’re on a dating app anyway? You seem like an attractive guy, smart, charming, and fun.” Saeran asked. Yoosung wondered for a brief moment if he was teasing him again, but no, he seemed genuinely interested.

“Well…” Yoosung shrugged, “…I was pretty popular in high school, but too focused on schoolwork to have time for a girlfriend. And when I started university, it seemed like whoever I liked didn’t like me back, and whoever liked me, I wasn’t interested in. I don’t know, most girls just called me ‘cute’ and treated me like a puppy. Though that didn’t feel so bad either.” He was a little embarrassed to admit that part, but why not?

“Girlfriend huh?” Saeran glanced down at the forgotten ice cream in his hand. Yoosung was about to speak but then he saw the smirk on the other man’s face. “How did you end up here with me then?”

“I didn’t choose a preference. Honestly, I barely glanced at the app, even when there was a match. But…when I saw your profile, I couldn’t help myself. I had to know more.”

“So I intrigued you? Is that it? Why?”

“You seemed like such a contradiction. The fact that you were hot didn’t hurt either.” Yoosung said. He surprised himself with his boldness, yet he hoped he would get another laugh out of the man. He wasn’t disappointed.

Saeran rubbed his mouth, as if this was more than his muscles were used to, then he looked up at Yoosung. There was a splash of color across the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It made his freckles stand out. So Cute!

“I…I really like you Yoosung.” He whispered, as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I like you too.” He reached his left hand out and laid it on Saeran’s right hand. The studded wrist cuff the other man wore and the pastel necklace wrapped around his own wrist were a striking contrast that was more than aesthetically pleasing.

[artificialqueens]

Carousel (Taywhora) - Plegdoctor

A/N: Right, so fun fact about me, the first drag race fic I ever wrote was actually an Aquaria/Cracker one. It was going to be a high school au but I never ended up finishing it. I recently found it and reread it and found this one scene where they all go to the fair together. So this is a rewrite of a fic that never was! I've obviously had to change some bits to fit the UK2 girls but a lot of it is word for word what I wrote in that little notebook years ago. So yeah, enjoy!

--

Aurora shivered and wrapped her leather jacket tighter around herself. The cool air of the early winter night fluttered through her hair, threading the blonde strands into a tangle. Lights flashed around her, so bright that she could still see them when she closed her eyes.

Although it was cold, she was comfortable. Content. She could hear the music blaring from various rides and stands, the screams of children and the laughter of teens, the chattering of adults. The air was full of food, candyfloss sugar and savoury smells of greasy burgers and hotdogs that would leave her with a stomach ache for two days.

Best of all, the air was electric. There was an energy like no other fizzing across the atmosphere as she looked at her friends with a smile.

Lawrence had dragged Ellie onto the dodgems, despite desperate protestations from the taller girl. And then of course Lawrence had to challenge Tia to a duel of sorts on the damned things, so Tia had persuaded Veronica to go with her and prove the Scot wrong. She could see them now, Ellie’s blonde hair all over Lawrence’s shoulder as she squealed and cuddled into her.

She was going to miss this.

“Look at those two. Bloody disgusting.”

She didn’t even jump as the voice appeared beside her, the smooth Welsh accent already giving it’s owner away. She held her hand out expectantly, pleased when a bag of candyfloss was placed in it.

“They’re so lovesick. It’s cute. Talking of lovesick, where are Bim and Asttina?”

Tayce sighed. “I think they’re still googling whether candyfloss is vegan or not. I told Bims it was because it’s just sugar but they weren’t convinced.”

Aurora held back a giggle and shivered again. Tayce frowned slightly.

“You cold?”

“A little. I’ll be alright when we get moving again.”

“Right. Who’s winning this duel anyway?”

Aurora snorted. “Fuck knows babe, I’m pretty sure Tia and Lawrence have both committed various war crimes while Ellie and Veronica are just trying to stay alive.”

“Well I’ll warm you up while we wait.” Tayce said, slinging an arm around Aurora’s shoulders and pulling her in close. Aurora sighed and snuggled into her friend, her heartrate increasing with the close proximity. She could feel the soft material of Tayce’s coat, count her steady heartbeat, smell the mixture of her expensive floral perfume and the cheap sugar on her breath.

Aurora could’ve stayed there forever, getting drunk on Tayce’s touch.

“We might wanna go back on guys, we shouldn’t interrupt this sexual tension.” Her peace was cut short by a thick Scottish accent.

She sighed. Tayce simply laughed. “Wind your neck in Lozza, let’s not pretend you didn’t take Ellie on that ride just so she’d be pressed up against you.” She called out playfully, her grip not leaving Aurora’s shoulders.

“Get to fuck Tayce, as if I would lower my standards.” She replied, Ellie giving a little cry of indignation from where she was hanging off her arm.

“That’s not what you told me last night, hen.” She teased, the girls erupting into screams of laughter.

They stumbled through the fair together, arms linked as they all shouted along to the tacky music being played. Bimini and Asttina joined them eventually, Asttina carrying Bimini on her back to “give them the experience of being tall.” Eventually they came to a stop in front of the carousel where Ellie gave a gasp of delight and immediately begged them all to go on it.

They dug through their pockets for the £1 needed, handing it to the bored looking man. Ellie immediately found a pure white horse with a pink saddle and clambered onto it, pulling Lawrence up behind her. Bimini and Asttina chose a blue and grey one, while Veronica and Tia predictably end up on a horse with a green saddle.

Aurora circled the horses a few times, scrutinising them.

“It’s not a house you’re looking for Rory, just get on a horse.” Ellie yelled from where she was, Lawrence’s arms around her middle as her head rested on her fluffy pink jacket.

“Here, this one is good.” Tayce said from atop a black and gold one. She reached out a hand to Aurora who took it. She wrapped her arms around her, her head fitting perfectly in the crevice of her shoulder.

“You’re comfy.” She murmured into Tayce’s neck.

“Girls! Picture!” Tia called behind her, holding up her phone as they all smiled at the camera. Aurora’s eyes flicked to the side to see Tayce sticking her tongue out and threw her head back in laughter.

“Did you get my whole outfit in there, Tia?”

“Els, babe, I don’t know how I couldn’t, I’m surprised Lawrence managed to hold onto you.”

“Think you’ll find I’m very good at holding onto her.” Lawrence’s voice was muffled by the fur of Ellie’s jacket. Aurora giggled at Asttina’s fake retch.

“Hold on tight you hound.” Aurora obeyed Tayce’s whispered command immediately, lacing her fingers together over Tayce’s stomach as the music started and the ride started moving.

She wished the ride would never end, savouring the cries of joy from Tayce like they were her favourite sweet. A pang of jealously struck through her heart when she saw Tia in front of them, leaning down to drop a kiss on Veronica’s head that was resting on her chest. Briefly she caught eye contact with Tayce and ripped her eyes away, loosening her grip as a blush spread under her foundation.

“Why’ve you let go Rory? We can’t have you falling off and dying.” Tayce adjusted her hands to once again be tightly looped on her waist. Aurora momentarily stopped breathing.

They remained that way until the ride stopped and they all clambered down from their respective horses. Bimini was back on Asttina’s back while Tia tried to convince Veronica that she was strong enough to carry her like that. Veronica vehemently rejected the idea as Aurora laughed at her friends, her hand entwined with Tayce’s.

People have always told Aurora how brave she is. Brave to wear clashing patterns (yet still make them work), brave to be the first in her friendship group in year five to get the bus alone, brave to be able to talk to anyone. But she doesn’t believe them. If Aurora were as brave as people have told her she is, she would be able to tell Tayce about how she feels.

She has spent many nights curled up in bed, hugging a pillow to her chest as she imagines letting the words spill from her mouth and into Tayce’s heart. The scenarios all have different outcomes. Sometimes Tayce laughed. Harshly, cruelly, softly, disbelievingly. Sometimes she swept Aurora into her arms and dipped her down low, her long fingers curled into Aurora’s blonde hair as she desperately pressed their lips together. Sometimes she gently let Aurora down, promising that they could still be friends.

That one always hurt the worst.

Who would want to be just friends with the girl that they’ve been in love with for two years?

The question spins her head for the rest of the night, until they’ve moved on from the rides and the food and are hanging around the games.

“Maybe someone will win a goldfish.” She suggested idly, wrapped up with Bimini in Tia’s massive puffer jacket. Bimini shook their head from beside her.

“No one gets fish at fairs babe, that’s like an American thing innit.”

“Well how would I know, do I look American?”

“We’ve been coming here since year seven, you would’ve thought you’d learn by now.”

Aurora huffed, her breath coming out as a harsh mist. “I can live in hope that one day I’ll go home with a new pet that my mum can’t say no to.”

“Bold of you to assume you’d win a goldfish; you can barely hook a duck.” Tia called goadingly to her. Aurora rose immediately to the bait.

“I can so hook a duck! Come on slags, we’re going to the hook-a-duck!” Her battle cry rose into the air as she strode in the general direction of the stall, Bimini hopping to keep up.

It emerges that Tia is, unfortunately, right. Aurora is shit at hook-a-duck.

“How can you be bad at hooking a duck? They’re literally right in front of you.” Ellie wondered out loud, leaning on Lawrence as they watched three of their friends hanging over the wooden slats as they poked sticks at floating rubber ducks. Lawrence let out a bark of laughter, and Veronica on her other side spluttered.

“It’s not as easy as it fucking looks!” Aurora threw back, stretching her arm until her shoulder almost popped from its socket.

She pulled back, dejected, and turned around to admit defeat. “Alright Tia, you win this time.”

“You’re great at many things Aurora, but hand eye coordination is not one of them.” Tia replied calmly as Aurora rolled her eyes.

“It’s alright Rory. Look I won this for you.” Tayce pressed a doll into her hands as Aurora spun it in her hands, looking at it with interest. It had blonde hair like hers, done up in a bun the way she wore it all through year eight. It’s dress was green, leaf shaped, with matching wings in the back.

“Tinkerbell?”

“Yep. She reminds me of you.”

“Aww.’ Aurora flushed pink with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment at Tayce’s words. ‘Why, because I’m just as gorgeous as her?” She suggested, batting her eyelashes jokingly and curling herself around Tayce’s arm. Tayce looked down at her, a glint in her eye.

“Not exactly.”

“Well why then?”

Tayce’s laugh sent the butterflies in Aurora’s stomach insane. “Because she needs attention or she dies.”

“Oh piss off.” She giggled, nudging the taller girl with her hip as the rest of their friends laughed into the open night sky.

She stayed at Tayce’s side, the doll tucked into her bag.

The meandered further around the fair, stopping every now and then for any ride or games that struck their fancy. Their pockets grew lighter as pound coins disappeared, exchanged for screams of laughter and memories that will forever remind them of being young and free.

“You’ll have to tell her eventually.” Ellie said while they’re waiting for the others on the Helter Skelter, arms laden with coats. Aurora shook her head obstinately, her hair swishing down her back.

“Never.”

“You said you’d tell her when I told Loz! And look how happy we are together. Come on hen, you’ve got to take a chance.” Ellie whacked her with Bimini’s leopard print jacket as though to make a point and Aurora batted it away with a long-suffering sigh.

“We’re not like you and Lawrence, Els.”

“You could be though.”

She fixed her friend with a pointed glare, the effect rather ruined with the amount that she has to look up due to Ellie’s (frankly insane) height.

Ellie relented, looking away with a slight furrow in her brow. “Just do it tonight. Get her alone or something.”

Aurora snorted at the assumption that the pair would ever be alone at the fairground.

But, surely enough, the girls began to peel off one by one. More like two by two, it’s Noah’s bloody Ark over here Aurora thought, ignoring Asttina’s weird look when she snorted quietly to herself.

Tia and Veronica said goodbye first, walking off in the direction of Tia’s house with their arms slung around each other. Asttina and Bim were next, both shooting sly glances at Aurora that made her retreat into her jacket as she waved them off. Lawrence seemed ready to stay the entire night, until Ellie began loudly yawning, poking her girlfriend sharply in the ribs with her elbow. Eventually Lawrence got the point Ellie was trying to make (a point that Aurora will murder her for later) and the two sloped off, whispering and giggling. Aurora turned to Tayce with a bright smile plastered on her face.

“Do you want to stay for a bit?” She ventured. Tayce nodded. She linked her arm with Aurora’s, the simple gesture flooding her brain with serotonin.

They circled the fair, tired yet bright eyes looking out for anything they had missed. It seemed ridiculous to Aurora to expect that there was anything new. The fair hadn’t changed since they first went in Year Seven, eight nervous eleven- and twelve-year-olds with pounds in their pockets begged from their mums. Aurora could still remember everything from that night, fresh in her mind as if it had been yesterday.

She remembered the skirt she wore, black and way too short for her age. She remembered the music playing and the way it filled the air with a joy that she had never felt in her life before. She remembered Ellie getting scared at the top of the Helter Skelter and refusing to go down it without Lawrence holding her hand. She remembered the way Bimini had their hair, long crimped locks that frizzed up for at least the next week.

But, perhaps most importantly, she remembered Tayce. What she was wearing, how her hair looked, the brand of eyeliner that was haphazardly pencilled in her waterline. Her generosity in buying the whole group chips and burgers (aside from Bimini, of course, who only had chips). The way her breath curled into the cold air as she yelled encouragements to a trembling Ellie. That moment where she grabbed Aurora’s hand and Aurora felt something small yet inexplicable tug in her chest.

Sometimes she wished they could go back to those days of innocence. Of clumsy flirting and messy mascara. Before everyone coupled up like it was an episode of Love Island.

Before she realised she had a crush on her best friend.

“There’s nothing new here.”

Tayce’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to look at her friend who had a glint of disappointment in her eyes. She snorted and squeezed her arm.

“What did you expect? This place never changes.”

Tayce grinned, the trace of sadness gone from her eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s what I like about this place sometimes. It’s reliable.”

Aurora shook her head in mock despair. Tayce began walking purposefully, dragging Aurora behind her.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to go on the carousel again!”

“Oh my God my friend is a literal child. Did you have a good day at primary school?” She teased. Tayce screamed and whacked her.

“You bitch! I know that this is your favourite too, Rory, you can’t hide from me!”

It doesn’t take nearly as long to find a horse this time, and soon they’re in a familiar position, Aurora’s chin on Tayce’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss this place, Tayce.” She whispered. Her wavering voice betrayed her emotions. Tayce gently ran her thumb over her knuckles.

“Me too.’ She paused, turning her head around as if to take in everything she could. ‘Do you remember when we first came here?”

“Course I do. And we all went on the carousel and you laughed at me because I got my foot stuck and tripped as I was getting off.”

She clung on tighter as Tayce screeched. “Oh, I had almost forgotten about that! See, those are the kind of memories we’re going to take away.”

“What if we didn’t take them away?”

“Are you suggesting we stay here forever?”

“…maybe?”

“Aurora, you’ve been trying to get out of here for the past four years!”

“I know, it’s just,’ She sighed, her nostalgia coming out in a swirl of haze. ‘This is where we all consolidated our friendship.”

“We’ll come back for the fair.”

“Maybe for the first year. But then we’ll all get busy with life and degrees until it gets to the point where we look at old pictures and can’t even remember what year it was.”

“Nah, Bim’s shit hair dying skills have improved over the years, use their hair to judge the year.”

“Tayce-“

“I know, I know.”

They slipped into a brief silence, the background music still loud in their ears as they strained to memorise the notes.

Aurora wasn’t feeling brave.

But, even with her heart heavy from the feeling that this was the end of something, she found that she was happy.

Aurora spent hours looking in her Nan’s battered thesaurus, trying to find better words for ‘happy’ after her English teacher told her she needed a more varied vocabulary. But sometimes there was no other word to describe it. She was just simply happy when she was with Tayce.

“I’m going to miss you the most.” The words slipped out of her lips.

Tayce stiffened for a moment. Then she spoke.

“I’ll miss you the most too. Not just… as a friend. Even though you are my friend, it’s just,’ She twisted to look at her friend and laughed. ‘Don’t make me say this.”

“No, go on! I want to hear what you’re going to say!” Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

“I like you Rory. Not just as a friend. As more than a friend. And I wish I told you earlier so we could have more time together.”

Her heart stopped beating altogether as she let the new information seep into her brain.

Tayce liked her.

Tayce liked her as much as she liked her.

She pushed herself forwards slightly. Her arms still entwined around the other girl’s waist, her chest pressed against her back. Slowly, shyly, and in the least Aurora way known to man, she gently kissed Tayce’s smooth cheek.

“I like you too.’ She murmured into her ear. ‘More than friends. So much more than friends.”

“Oh my God.” Tayce said under her breath.

She twisted round until she was facing Aurora. Her long thin fingers found their way to Aurora’s face and then her hair as their lips met for the first time.

Aurora felt like all the electricity and magic of the fair was sucked from the air and contained entirely within her. She felt as if she might explode, every particle that made her up buzzing with joy as she clung to her best friend and kissed her like her life depended on it.

They pulled away when they felt the ride come to a stop. Aurora couldn’t breathe.

“Can we take a selfie?” Her cheeks are flushed as she speaks, embarrassed that this is the first thing to exit her mouth after finally admitting her love for Tayce after years of pining.

Tayce scrunched her nose. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I want to remember this forever. And never run the risk of forgetting.”

Tayce just laughed and kissed her again. And again. And again.

The next September, Aurora stands alone in a room. It’s technically hers, but it doesn’t feel like that yet. She slips on her headphones as she begins her task of decorating, hoping that when she’s done she won’t feel like she wants to cry anymore.

Just an hour later she slips her headphones off to do the last part in tranquil silence.

She’s methodical as she pins pictures to the board. Her family on one side, her friends on the other, with both of them mingling in the centre. She giggles as she tacks up the first group selfie they ever took, all squished on the ghost train that made Ellie scream bloody murder. She swears she can smell candyfloss and greasy burgers as she puts the rest of them up, revelling in the memories that flood her mind.

The group one from last year might be her favourite group one to date. Tia and Veronica at the front, smiling like they’ve won the life lottery as they curled together. Lawrence and Ellie cosily close, Lawrence playfully throwing a peace sign while Ellie stretched to make sure Tia got her whole outfit in. Bim and Asttina smirking, their eyes betraying the pure excitement that Aurora knows was within them.

Her and Tayce. Tayce’s pointed tongue stuck out cheekily that caused Aurora to throw her head back in the most genuine display of happiness ever captured on camera.

There was one final picture to put up. Although, it may have been a bit unnecessary. It was already her phone background, in a frame by her bed, and plastered all over her social media.

Slightly swollen lips, windswept hair, matching euphoric smiles.

Their first kiss, and the time that Aurora knew she would be in love with Tayce until the end of time.

It gets stuck right in the middle, pride of place.

Aurora takes a quick picture of the finished board. She sends it to the groupchat and flings herself onto her bed to read the rapid replies, her Tinkerbell doll cradled in the crook of her arm.

Basic <3: Omg!! That’s so cute, I love those pictures so much!

Loch Ness Bitch: are ya getting soppy already Rory, you’ve only been gone five minutes

Dirty D: Loz shut up it’s cute! All those memories <333

Sailor Vee: Ahh I can’t wait to go to the fair again this year. We’re defo all coming back, right?

Rude: Course we are Ronnie I wouldn’t miss it for the world

Vegan: Greasy chips on me, ladies x

Hound: I bloody hope so Bim, think you all still owe me from year 7

She’s happy. Aurora is happy as the groupchat descends into chaos, happy that they can still be like this while spread around the country. Her phone pings again.

Tayce: The carousel will always be there Rory. I’ll be waiting for you there x

She smiles as she taps out her reply.

Aurora: I love you so much <3

When she closes her eyes, Aurora can feel the cool winter air threading through her hair. She can smell the candyfloss sugar and savoury smells of greasy burgers and hotdogs that would leave her with a stomach ache for two days. She can hear the tacky tunes she loved to shout along too.

But best of all, she knows that in her heart, her love for Tayce is electric. It’s steady, reliable, and comforting.

Just like riding the carousel.

[sif-the-tsunami]

A king meets his queen

Summary: Henry has a somewhat anonymous encounter with a Persephone cosplayer at a hotel bar.

Warnings, sleezy men, and smut. unprotected sex, oral sex for everyone 

rating 18+ smut below the cut

Word count: 3.3K

Texas in August was something no mere mortal should have to endure, and even though it was still sticky with humidity, the hotel bar was full of people milling around. The only way to really describe the heavy air near the Gulf Coast was to say that it was moist. Between the low buzz of conversation, the women on stage singing bluesy country songs, and the sweet and smokey bourbon took away the stresses of the day for the woman seated on a low leather sofa. She swayed to the rhythm of the acoustic guitars and the women singing cover songs.  There was a fun mix of people still wearing their costumed from the convention happening about two blocks away from the hotel she was staying in.

Long pink ringlets bounced as she enjoyed the steel guitars, her friends had gone back to their hotel room after they finished their drinks. The women still in their elaborate cosplay outfits were wonderful for people watching, even though she sat in her own. A floor length black gown hugs her body, with a deliciously low neckline and two teasing slits up to the tops of her thighs. Attached to the back was a thin cape that dragged behind her with delicate pink petals in swirling patterns. One the top of her perfectly pink hair was a tiara made of dark crystals with two little blue flowers on the right side. Noticing that her glass was empty, she decided to head to the bar for a new drink.

“Hello there princess Pinkie Pie, what are you drinking?” An eager blond man came up to her, blocking her access to the bar. “Let me get you another.”

“Hi, excuse me. Thank you, I’m fine.” She tried to move away.

“Come on, a beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks.” He said a little too eagerly. He kept getting closer to her, looming over her even though she was wearing heels. “You are here by yourself, you need a little company.”

“I’m waiting for someone, thank you, again. I’m fine.” She looked down for a second so she wouldn’t step on her cape.

“Don’t be like that sweet thing, I would love to keep you company while you wait for your friend.” He put his hand on her upper arm and she yanked herself back. Before she could say anything a tall, dark haired man pushed himself between her and the blond man. He hovered his hand over her exposed shoulders as he made himself look as large as possible as he got her out of the way of the potential danger.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” The new man said leading her to the bar. “Are you alright?”

She peeked around the broad man, and the blond seemed to roll his eyes, walking away. Still not sure if she was safe, she nodded. She said a little louder than normal, “Yes, sweetheart. Its so nice for you to join me finally.”

“I’m sorry to intrude, I’m sure that you could have handled yourself but I thought it would have been safer for everyone if I got you away from him. He had been making some comment earlier that suggested he had anything other than good intentions.” The man’s voice was deep and reverberating like a cello. They waited for their turn with the bartender. His English accent made him stand out from the Texan locals. His dress pants and shirt were also heads and tails better looking than the rest of the room. He looked like he could be James Bond.

“He’s not the first guy to hassle me at a bar, he won’t be the last. I’m more upset that he called me Pinkie Pie than anything else. And thank you, I mean it, that was kind of you.”

“Anytime, truly, and Pinkie Pie, like the Little Pony?” The man asked, with a comical head tilt. He ordered himself a whiskey, and offered to get her a drink, she ordered herself another bourbon. He was clearly amused by her order.

“Yeah, I know right, nothing about this says kid’s cartoon.” She said, gesturing with her hands to her dress.

“No, if my nephews watched a cartoon with you in it, I would be very confused. Please, forgive my ignorance. Who are you dressed as?”

“Persephone, Goddess of Spring, Queen of the Underworld.” He handed her the glass of smokey amber liquor. She raised her glass in a small toast to him.

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I’m He….” he was cut off when his companions eyes grew large.

“Oh shit, he’s coming back, do you mind walking with me?” She gently placed her hand on his forearm. He looked around and sure enough that other man seemed to be staring down the woman.

“Of course, Your Highness.” He said with an amused eyebrow lift. They moved to dark corner with a comfortable looking sofa. He sat down with his legs spread out comfortably, with a little hip wiggle once he was down.

“I’m not keeping you from anyone, am I?” Persephone asked her white knight.

“No, I am in town for the convention but by myself. You?”

“I have a bunch of girl friends with me for the con as well.” The two ended up chatting for a while, they laughed and bonded over books, video games and movies they both enjoyed. When their glasses were empty her new friend asked if she wanted another. He seemed to enjoy her company, and she was enjoying staring into his deep blue eyes. When the light hit just right, she could see a small spor of brown. She politely declined the whiskey, but asked for a tonic water with lime. During the few minutes that her well dressed friend was away, the blond man hovered closer. When he returned, handing her the water, Persephone leaned in closer to him.

“He’s coming near us again, do you mind that I’m in your bubble?”

He moved his arm around her shoulders, oh my lord he smells good, she thinks. She tentatively rested a hand on his knee. A careful glance around, the man still seemed to be hanging around the peripherals. “No, not at all. I’ve been enjoying our conversation. It’s been a while since I’ve just gotten to geek out with someone new.”

He leaned in closer to her and he put his other hand on hers. Anyone else looking at them would assume they were a cute couple on a date. “This is going to be really forward, but I’m going to ask you to kiss me, because our friend is still looking and I think that might really send the message home.”

He gulped and nodded, then kissed her as convincingly as he could. Every nerve in her body was suddenly on fire.  His kissing became more passionate. His hand went from her knee and started sliding toward her thigh.  He asked her, his voice husky, “Is this alright, little goddess?”

She nodded and then leaned back into him. Placing on hand on his beautiful face. She moaned into their kiss and bit his lower lip gently. They pulled apart for a moment, and the first thing out of her lips was “Do you want to get something to eat? I know of a place within walking distance if you want to try something fun.”

She was desperate to get to know him better, and she wanted to know him physically but she wouldn’t make it too easy for him. His pupils were blown out with lust, his heart was beating in his ears. He had to catch his breath just a little.

“I could eat...” He nods. They began to stand up. “Before we leave the hotel I want to go up to my room and grab my jacket, do you mind?”

“No, not at all.” He held her hand and led her out of the hotel bar.  He said a quiet word to the bouncer about the blond man and they moved out to the hallway. As they wait for the elevator to chime, the two start making out. The metallic doors open and she pulls him in with her. He pressed the button for his floor. He nuzzles his face into her neck, planting sweet kisses and nibbles gently where her shoulder and neck meet.

“Mmm.” he almost purred. “Since our introduction was interrupted, if you, my darling, are Persephone, I suppose you could just call me Hades.”

“Well that depends a little, do you plan on kidnapping me?” She half joked as he kissed her neck.

“No, my little goddess, but I will treat you like a queen tonight.” He whispered into her ear then nibbled on her her ear lobe.

He knelt down and scooped the woman up from under her bum, wrapping her legs around his waist then pinning her to the wall of the elevator. He slid a hand up one of the slits of her dress, seeing at the tops of her stocking clad legs was a garter belt with her silky panties over the straps.

“I think you put these on in the wrong order, Your Highness.” He chuckled.

“What? Put me down for a second. No. If I put my panties on under the belts, I couldn’t do this.” She said taking the undergarment off and holding them in her hand. Her Hades started to laugh more. She then looked at her panties in her hand and then back at him. “Oh… I see what you did there.”

The elevator door dinged saying they were on his floor. He yoinked her panties out of her hands and danced off the lift. She playfully chased after the man to his room door. He walked in, grabbed his coat and wallet from the room.

“We can always order in?” He suggests.

“Do you really want cold cheeseburgers?”

“No, not really.”

“Trust me, they have a chef’s plate that is absolutely phenomenal. We have all night, handsome, let’s enjoy each other’s company.” She said, biting her bottom lip hopefully. Her hands ached to hold him again, her lips burned to kiss him.

The well dressed man chuckled. “I suppose you are right. Let’s go get a bite to eat.”

Persephone leaned in the corner of the elevator, her companion leaned down and kissed her again. His touch was hungry and urgent.  He starts kissing her neck again and murmured “I think I want my dessert first.”

Her Hades knelt down in front of her, and started kissing the exposed parts of her thighs, gingerly lifting the center panel of her dress. Impossibly blue eyes looked up at her. “May I?”

She nodded, he began gently massaging, kissing and licking at her exposed sex. She moaned in bliss, enjoying his attention. He slid a finger into her sweet center and started coaxing pleasure out of her. “You taste so good. That’s right, my little goddess, come on my face.”

The elevator slowed down and chimed. He quickly adjusted her dress as the doors opened. She was still panting and gasping as she made eye contact with the older couple wanting to get on.

“Why yes, ma’am, I don’t think your ankle is sprained, however you need to be really careful with those shoes.” He said loudly, trying to cover up what they were doing.

“Uh, we’ll wait for the next one.” The older man said. And the doors closed. She looked down, and they started laughing. She leaned her head back and then he proceeded to worship at her alter. He moved one of her legs on top of his shoulder to give him better access. Before long her eyes were rolling back, grinding her hips against his face and tongue. He moved his tongue back and forth, occasionally swirling and lapping at her clit. He slid a second finger into her rhythmically thrusting his fingers inside of her as he sucked on her sensitive nub.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to come.” She laced her fingers through his hair as the wave of pleasure overwhelmed her.  He kissed her thigh that was on his shoulder. She gasped, holding onto the handles on the walls, trembling.

“Good girl.” Pulling her panties out of his pocket, he cleaned the arousal off of his face. “I can definitely go for something a little more filling now.”

“Is it too late to choose room service?” His Persephone asks, still out of breath. He stood up, and wrapped his arm around her to brace her.

“Oh no, Miss, we are going to this restaurant you hyped up. Although, if you keep being a good girl, little goddess, this is what is waiting for you.” He took her hand from the bar on the wall she was holding, and placed it on his erection. Her eyes grew wide as she felt how thick he was. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I promise I know what I’m doing. I won’t hurt you.”

He adjusted himself as the elevator opened on the ground floor to make his discomfort less obvious. They walked across the street from the hotel to the restaurant, the dining room was lively. The hostess looked panicked over the excess of patrons.

“How many for your party?”

“Just two, ma’am.” Her Hades stated.

“We have one table available, it’s the chef’s table. Otherwise it will be a thirty minute wait.”

“Its fine with me if its alright with you,” His little goddess said to him.

Sitting at the chef table of the restaurant, the companions had to sit side by side, learning more about each other. Persephone insisted that they ordered the chef plate the came with a variety of meats, cheeses, mustard and little other tasty bites. There were deviled eggs with crispy pork belly bits and bacon wrapped sweet potato batons. The volume of the restaurant caused them to keep leaning in to hear the other person. The culinary team brought them freshly made pretzels to try with the mustard. They enjoyed a lovely meal, the food was delicious, the conversation never dulled. He would run his hands on the exposed skin of her leg closest to him. It was like they had been friends for years. When the check came, they play fought over who was going to pay. She practically begged their server in the name of feminism and equality to let her pay the bill.

“Let me pay for my mistakes.” She teased. “Besides, this was my idea.”

On the way out, with his smooth cello voice, he asked, “So, what made you want us to grab food? Aside from having a booze mop.”

The goddess of spring cosplayer lowered her head for a moment, pink curls falling forward, “I guess, I just didn’t want to be seen as being easy.”

“Oh no, darling.” he came up and rubbed his hands over arms. “You are a rare creature. I don’t think I’ve met anyone as warm as you have been. I understand if you are not up for returning with me to my room. However, I would appreciate it if you did.”

“I mean, if you still have an appetite. I know you had your dessert already.” She said with a wicked smile. He leaned in and kissed her ravenously. “Yes, I think that answers my question.”

Even though the sun had set hours ago, the air was still heavy with humidity. They made it into the hotel elevator with a new found urgency, unable to keep their hands off of each other. He kept his hand on the small of her back when they were in front of other guests but as soon as their small chamber was vacant, he groped and pawed at her. This had to have been the slowest elevator in the entire southwest. He whispered what he wanted to do to her once they reached his room as he nibbled and caressed her neck and exposed shoulders.

They made their way into his room, tugging and pulling off the other’s clothes. The coat jacket was thrown over his shoulder as they began exploring the other. His pink haired goddess unbuttoned the soft linen of his light blue shirt, looking upon the thick curly hair on his chest. She placed soft kisses on his chest as they exposed the freckles that laid in waiting under the fabric.  The shirt was removed, then his belt, he kicked off his dress shoes.

“I want to rip this dress off,” He said lustfully.

“You are going to have to, I’m sewn into it..” She raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm, but I can’t have you parading home in the buff. That is no way to treat the Queen of the Underworld, is it?” He pressed his fingertips gently into her hips as he pulled her to the couch. She was pulled onto his lap, throwing the center panel of her dress over her hip, exposing her sensuous core to him. He reached in between her legs again and started rubbing his thumb against her most sensitive part.

“I want you, my little goddess, my Persephone.” With his other hand, he placed his hand on the back of her neck to pull her down to kiss her again. She moved her hand to the button on his trousers. He took his hands away from her and pull down his pants and exposed himself to her. It was the thickest erection she had ever seen. “I know, sweet girl, I promise I wont hurt you. If you say we stop, we stop immediately.”

“It is really cute that you think you’ll hurt me, I’m not as delicate as I look.” She positioned herself to ease herself down on him. Her warmth overwhelmed him, once she stopped moving he grabbed her hips.

“Baby, you feel so good. Give me a second, you are going to make me cum.” He sounded like he was in pain. Gasping, he grabbed one of her breasts through her dress. “Shit, I promise that this isn’t how it usually is. Fuck, you feel so good.”

She squeezed herself on him and his jaw went slack. After a moment’s pause, they start moving slowly in unison. He groaned and gasped as she arched her back to let him in deeper. Their bodies complimented each other in ways they didn’t know could happen. He watched as her cheeks and chest became warm with her rising climax, coaxing his own out of him. She bucked against him as she succumbed to her orgasm. Her Hades started thrusting deeper and harder, he whimpered as his orgasm threatened to irrupt.

“Baby, I’m going to cum.” He whispers breathlessly. His little goddess moved off his lap quickly and positioned herself between his legs. She greedily put his cock in her mouth and begins to suck on the head of his cock while pumping her fist on his shaft.  “Oh fuck… oh fuck, I’m..”

She felt the pulsing as he came in her mouth. She swallowed every drop of him. Looking up at the quivering man, he twitched and trembled. He reached out for her to hold her and kiss her more. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, resting his head on hers. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I swear to god that I last longer than that normally, but oh, little goddess, you fucking rub me the right way.” His voice trembled. “Stay the night with me. Let’s… lets do that again. Please? Besides, you can show me the best place to get breakfast.”

“I suppose, but I think we should finally introduce ourselves. Don’t you think?” She giggled.

 @littlewrenofrivia what do you think?

[thewitchofbooks]

Hiii gorg I love your style of writing 😳👍 can you maybe write about ikepri suitors in the modem world? Just general stuff like what music would they like or what jobs do you see them working? Anything that you find fit tbh

You're amazing, stay safe and well <3

Hi!!!Thank you for the compliments and the request, i really appreciate it!It took me some time to write for all of them, so i apologize!Please, keep in mind that i don’t know everything about the characters and they might be ooc.I hope you like it~

Type: Headcanons, Modern AU

Game: Ikemen Prince

Characters: All characters

Warnings: Spoilery, characters might be ooc, not the best out there, haha, mentions of alcohol (trigger warning), not the best english (especially with many words).

I’ll write their favourite music, dressing style (both casual and formal), their jobs, their hobbies, their favourite type of food and their favourite drink(s).Keep in mind that these are not all real, i just think they would like these.Thank you!

~Clavis Lelouch

Favourite type of music:Clavis hears anything that sounds good.He can go from pop, to rock, to metal and everything in between.Sometimes, he likes to play songs, like twinkle twinkle little star and he sings it in a childish voice, just to annoy his big bro, Chevalier.Chevalier probably threw a vase full of cold water on him.He would have thrown more, but he doesn’t like wasting precious water for the “laughing clown’s” idiocity.

Dressing style (1~casual):Clavis likes to wear fashionable clothes with lots of twists.He probably wears animal printed clothes and accessories, like a leopard printed hat or coats.For a more casual outfit, he wears a white button up shirt tucked in black skinny jeans and he tops it of with a leather biker-style black jacket (if it’s cold).                                                               (2~formal):For formal wear, he chooses a purple stripped button up shirt with a light grey vest and light grey pants.He puts on a grey long coat to finish it up.

Job:Clavis works as a spy for the Cyber Crime Division.He seems like a maniac to his coworkers, but they know how good he is at what he does.Also, he is good at spying his brother and he sees it as exercise.

Hobbies:Clavis’s hobbies are:drinking smoothies, while spying Chevalier, annoying Chevalier (especially when he is tired) and making things (because he is good with his hands).Clavis doesn’t have a lot of time for himself, but when he does, he makes sure to spend it doing all these things.

Favourite type of food:Clavis loves sweets and junk food.It was a rare treat when he was younger, but now he can eat them.At least, he prefers a healthier version like, fruits on top pf his sweets and salads as side dishes for the food.

Favourite drink(s):This man loves starbucks.He doesn’t drink alcohol due to personal reasons, so he buys them everyday.He buys unicorn coloured drinks & sweets and he tries to give some of them to Cheva.It doesn’t work.

~Chevalier Michel

Favourite type of music:Chevalier listens to classical, rock and metal.He likes songs with deep meaning, because it makes him think/daydream in his free time.He also plays the piano and violin, which got him into classical music.Sometimes, he is forced to here Clavis’s loud stereo, so he hears childish songs and he gets mad.

Dressing style (1~casual):Chevalier wears a white turtleneck shirt, black skinny pants and a long black coat.He also wears black reading glasses.He doesn’t like having a lot of strange addings on his clothes, because he likes being fancy, without being too much.                                 (2~formal):Chevalier chooses suits, which fit perfectly on his body.On top of his suits, he likes wearing black or while long coats and a pair of gloves in the same colour.He always has a golden pin with chains on, which keeps his tie straight and neat.

Job:Cheva works as an Army Strategist and as a Defence Minister.All the people trust him, so they voted for him.He was already a strong man before, but now he became even more, to help protect his country and those in need.

Hobbies:Chevalier, naturaly, loves to read romance novels.His mansion has two rooms as libraries.He also keeps shelves of books in his room.Another thing he likes is learning more and more (languages and other things), because he is fast at learning and they might come in handy.

Favourite type of food:Chevalier doesn’t care much, though he prefers eating foods with a lot of protein and vitamins.He is used to eating mostly these types of food, because of his work.He sometimes eats sweets, but never the unicorn ones Clavis tries to feed him.

Favourite drink(s):Cheva is not a big fan of alcohol.Alcohol has a lot of bad sugars for his health and he also doesn’t like getting drunk.Especially when he works.He drinks plenty of water and tea.

~Luke Randolph

Favourite type of music:Luke listens to pop and classical music.If he likes a song that is different, he is going to hear that as well.He doesn’t really care, but he prefers soft and gentle sounds.

Dressing style (1~casual):Luke picks long green t-shirts with V-Neck as a top and dark purple sweatpants as bottoms.On top of all that, he wears an oversized dark grey jacket.He likes those colours, because they remind him of the forest and nature in general.                                                         (2~formal):Luke wears a grey button up shirt in a pair of grey jeans.He tops it off with a stylish but still comfortable grey jean jacket.

Job:This tall gentleman loves honey, so he decided to work as an apriarist.Not only does he help feed and keep safe as many honey bees as he can, he takes the honey away without hurting them or destroying their houses (beehives).

Hobbies:One of Luke’s hobbies is helping and playing with the forest animals.These animals are drawn to him and want his attention.He puts water and food all over the place, so they can find it easily and get ready for the cold weather.

Favourite type of food:Of course, his favourite food is honey.It had to do with a lot of hard things he went through in his past and he doesn’t want to forget.It’s also sweet and healthy, so he prefers it.He also likes homecooked meals, because they are warm and he feels safe.

Favourite drink(s):Luke’s favourite drinks are tea and milk.These drinks are both warm and sweet (he drowns them in honey).They are perfect for a cold day and a hot day.All the stress goes away and he is calm again.

~Leon Dompteur

Favourite type of music:Leon listens to alternative rock and pop.He likes to dance around in his days off, when he is at home.He goes to a lot of concerts with a few of his brothers to enjoy a night out.The music he hars goes well with his personality and he always has fun.

Dressing style: (1~casual):Leon lives for more casual outfits that are different from the stiff clothes he wears at work.He goes for a black t-shirt that shows his abs and black pants that hug his waist.He is naturally warm, so he believes he doesn’t need a jacket.                                            (2~formal):Leon wears a black turtleneck shirt and black or dark grey pants.Sometimes, he puts on a dark grey suit jacket to look even better.

Job:Leon works with Chevalier as an Army Strategist.He gets well with the soldiers and they follow all his commands.He knows his brother is harsh, but he informs the new soldiers how much he cares for their country.

Hobbies:Leon’s hobby is having fun with his loved ones.He’ll prefer social gatherings and talking with people.He is easy to talk to, so his family gets together because of him.He might enjoy dancing, so he could be ready to impress his lover.

Favourite type of food:Yves’s baking/cooking.Not only does the food he makes tastes good, it’s also very fun to tease him.Sometime, he dines outside.If a person he loves makes food, he’ll eat it without much care if it tastes good.He is happy they did it.

Favourite drink(s):Leon can drink nearly everythinng.He can go from drinking alcohol with Jin, to drinking tea and milk with Luke.He doesn’t want to get drunk, because it’s bad for his job and his health, so he doesn’t do it too much.

~Yves Kloss

Favourite type of music:Yves listens to whatever sounds good and has style.He secretly listens to meme cat meowing his favourite songs.He learns the choreography in every song that has one.If his brotherd catch him doing that, he tries to deny it while blushing.

Dressing style (1~casual):Yves wears skinny black jeans with cuts on the knees and a pink oversized sweater.On top, he wears a grey cardigan.His clothes look big on him and it makes him look cuter.                                    (2~formal):He wears a white button up shirt, tucked in grey pants.He wears different coloured ties, but prefers pink, grey or black ones.He also wears a pink suit jacket.He likes being stylish in everything he does.

Job:Yves works at a pet shop.All the pets that live in here love him.The people that want to buy a animal have to watch him trying to put the animals in their (boxes/the things they put them in when they go somewhere).The animals are cuddling him and pawing at his cheeks.Yves is happy they found a home, but he is also sad, because he liked playing with them (even if that meant getting teased by his brothers).Yves secretly works as a stylist and he sketches clothes for women and men.

Hobbies:Yves hobbies have to do with beauty.He changes hairstyles or he goes shopping for clothes and accessories.He is calming down whenever he does that.Yves also enjoys doing new things, like joining art classes (painting, writing, dancing).

Favourite type of food:Yves loves cakes with fruits on top.He likes it when fresh berries are used to make them.They are not too sweet, but they live a nice taste in his mouth.He eats other foods, of course, because he knows that he has to be healthy.He eats for every meal of the day.He scolds Clavis for his choices and is discusted with his eating habits.He also cooks for himself (and some of his brothers).

~Nokto Klein

Favourite type of music:Nokto listens to pop (because most of the explicit songs he likes are pop).His tastes may change, but it also depends on his mood.If he is in a certain mood, being withh his lover and all, he stays with his normal choices.

Dressing style (1~casual):For a more casual look, he braids one side of his hair and it goes up in a high ponytail.He wears grey skinny jeans and a baby blue t-shirt.If it becomes too cold, he’ll get a white jacket.                    (2~formal):Nokto can go from a total white look to a white and baby blue look.He’ll choose a blue tie, with a white button up shirt and white pants.Nokto will take a white suit jacket on his shoulders and it’s kept on it’s place by a silver chain.

Job:I can see most of the brothers working together, so he’ll probably would be a spy for the Army, set by Chevalier himself.He is not scared to do reckless things and get in trouble.He knows how to keep secrets from the others.

Hobbies:Nokto’s hobbies are learning things about other people and most of all, what his lover enjoys.He likes trying new things with his S/O, that both are comfortable with.Another hobby of his is annoying and teasing his brothers that don’t want that don’t want that type of attention.

Favourite type of food:Nokto enjoys sweet, salty and savoury foods.Of course, there are some that make him feel better than others, so he prefers them.He finds some foods amusing, like the rainbow coloured ones and he wants to try them.

Favourite drink(s):If he is not at work, he likes strong liquor, but when it’s work related he’ll drink something softer and give the strong drinks to his enemies.That doesn’t stop him from enjoying drinks like sodas.Nokto tries Clavis’s favourite drinks, but he isn’t the biggest fan.

~Licht Klein

Favourite type of music:To most, Licht seems like a very quiet guy, but the music he likes isn’t always like that.He listens to every type of rock, pop and hip hop music.He is someone that likes the deep meaning every song has and he always remembers their lyrics.

Dressing style (1~casual):Licht has an angelic face and he knows what goes better with that.He wears a white oversized button up shirt with baby blue buttons in the middle and light blue skinny jeans.                                  (2~formal):For formal wear, Licht chooses a blue-grey suit, a yellow bowtie with a red ruby in the middle.On top, he wears a grey cardigan to keep himself warm.

Job:Licht is a soldier, who is not afraid to lose his life.Just like his twin, he doesn’t care about doing reckless things, because he lives for others, mostly.He doesn’t show that he cares for his brothers, but it can be seen.

Hobbies:For Licht, martial arts is the way to relax.Marial arts are not for fighting and killing someone.The first thing you learn is to keep yourself calm and then safe in front of difficult situations.That’s what Licht likes, so he follows it.Other things Licht likes to do is sing lullabies from his childhood and dance hip hop.

Favourite type of food:Licht absolutely loves sweets.Tarts full of chocolate, berries and other fruits are to die for.Sometimes, he secretly wants to eat Yves’s cakes, so he pouts at him, which always works to his favor.

Favourite type of drink(s):He doesn’t drink too much, he prefers water, tea and milk.First of all, it’s easier to drink them when eating.Second of all, he doesn’t want to get drunk (he doesn’t know if he can hold it).

~Sariel Noir

Favourite type of music:Sariel has gone through so much stress, so he just listens to screamo.If he feels better, he’ll hear to classical music while sipping his tea.He won’t say no to a new beat, but he’ll hear it if he can hear the voice clearly (so he can judge).

Dressing style (1~casual):If Sariel has time to go out without having to care for his work (or babysitting the brothers), he’ll wear a black, long sleeved shirt tucked in a nice pair of black pants.                                         (2~formal):He wears a black button up shirt with a silky red tie.He prefers black suits to go with, which have red details on top.He is stylish and he believes that black goes with everything.

Job:Sariel is a babysitter.Just kidding.He works as a Judge.He is amazing and fast.He knows when people feel guilty and it’s easy to find who is at fault.Definitely takes a lot of painkillers for those headaches.

Hobbies:He plays every classical music instruments when he has free time.He learned to play when he was younger and it always calmed him down.He also enjoys reading books (classic literature).

Favourite type of food:Sariel eats healthy most of the time, but he has cheat days.He can relax and eat sweets and junk food, while watching a movie or eating with company.

Favourite drink(s):Sariel drinks alcohol, not until he is completely wasted.He enjoys drinking if the company is good.But he prefers drinking tea and relaxing by his own.

~Rio Ortiz

Favourite type of music:Rio listens to everything.And by everything, i mean everything.He doesn’t care if the voices are clean or good, he is just happy to have something to hear.If his future S/O has a fave, then it’ll become his fave as well.

Dressing style (1~casual):Rio works a lot of hours a day, so he doesn’t dress too casual.If he can choose, then he wears blue jeans and coloured t-shirts.(Or a pair of pjs.)                                                                                (2~formal):Rio wears coloured button up shirts and black or white pants and a matching jacket.He doesn’t care much about his style, but he is forced when he works.

Job:Rio works as a lawyer, next to Sariel.He is clever and witty.When the other lawyers face him, they think they have to do with a child, but he is fast at gathering iinformation and he uses it against them.That’s the only reason Sariel keeps him.

Hobbies:Rio searches information about new people he meets, just for fun.He also has a puppy, but it mostly stays with close friends.When he is at home, they cuddle together and he feed it with it’s favourite treats.

Favourite type of food:Rio knows how to cook special meals, so he enjoys eating them.If he is too tired, he’ll eat pizza and he’ll later have some cookies to make himself feel better.

Favourite drink(s):He drinks a small amount of alcohol (to drown his pain).He likes drinking nearly all kind of drinks, even the crazy ones, especially if he has good company to share them.

~Jin Grandet

Favourite type of music:Jin listens to pop songs and the songs that are heard in bar-clubs.Sometimes, he hears the songs his brothers send him in the messenger app they all have.

Dressing style (1~casual):Jin wears forest green shirts or t-shirts and black pants or blue jeans.He might wear t-shirts with tie stamps on them.   (2~formal):He rarely wears formal clothes.He thinks they are too stiff and it’s not easy to move his body.Sadly, Leon takes him on gatherings, where he is forced to dress up.Jin tries on dark blue suits and green button up shirts.

Job:Jin is a bartender.It wasn’t because he liked those places.Not only, at least.He has women with big chests to work around the place.Sometimes, he stops his work, just to look and flirt.

Hobbies:His favourite hobby is staring at chests and have Clavis next to him, telling him that women with beautiful legs are the best.Another hobby of his is making a chaos in his house and calling Yves, only to laugh while he runs away.

Favourite type of food:Jin eats foods with lots of protein.He likes to eat everything tasty.He is one of those that trick Yves into cooking.

Favourite drink(s):Jin is used to drinking alcohol and he doesn’t get drunk easily.He enjoys cocktails from his bar and juices.He is okay with tea as well.

THE END.

NadiaSilver~

AN:Thank you very much for reading, and i’m sorry for repeating so many words!I hope you enjoyed it!Also, my requests are open to everyone!I write for ikemen revolution, ikemen vampire and ikemen prince!

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 5

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

(Fair warning, this is about to get even darker. We are moving towards a much deeper connection between Chess and Rick; but I find a deep connection needs a backstory. Also; let me know if you want to be added to my tag list. I’m still new at this, but I love knowing that people are actually reading my dribble.)

TW: sexual harassment/assault, torture, sexual themes, violence

I rubbed my neck, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

“Did you just microchip me, like some animal?”, I asked. “Something like that”, Flag said, and pulled a radio from his belt. “GQ, get the crate”, he spoke into it, and walked towards the door.

Diablo went to get a t-shirt, hanging over a chair, and put it on. “They got us rigged with some dynamite shit”, he said, and started stretching his shoulders. “Big boom”, Digger said, emulating an explosion coming from his neck. “Knocked String Boys head clean of”. “Slipknot”, Diablo corrected him. “Whatever”, was the answer, as Digger went to lay down on a bench, covering his eyes with his arm; apparently preparing to take a nap.

“Welcome to the family”, Diablo said, smirked at me, and went for a set of dumbbells in his corner.

Croc had pulled a slice of what looked like day-old pizza, from his hoodies pocket, and was eating it with a terrifyingly pleased face.

Harley – motherfucking Harley Quinn – was muttering quietly to herself, before lighting up in a big smile, exclaiming: “Ants!”, and skipping away to do whatever it is psychopathic criminal overladies do, when no one is watching.

The door behind me opened, and Edwards, whose acquaintance I’d made the day before, came into the gym. Behind him, the Tweedles were dragging a large box. Edwards and Flag exchanged a few hushed words; and Flag gazed over his shoulder to meet my eyes, before looking back at his subordinate. “… hope they’re ready”, was all I could make out from their conversation; and chills ran down my spine.

They put the box on the floor in front of me. Flag bent to unlock it, and his t-shirt rode up a bit, revealing some bruises and scratches on his lower back and hip. “Get into a fight?”, I smirked. “Just a feral cat”, he answered, smiling over his shoulder. Apparently, I’d gotten in enough punches, to make him feel it even now, quite a while later.

He opened the lid. “Here’s your shit. If you want to change, there’s a bathroom through that door”, he said, nodding towards the door Harley and Digger had come through. “Just be careful; you might get an audience. Which reminds me”. He walked over to where Digger lay; and kicked at the bench, making the peeping tom fall of it. “Hey jackass! Stop being creepy, and let people shit in peace”. Digger scrambled onto his legs, and made a mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”, he boomed, and laid back down, muttering curses under his breath.

“Ladies don’t shit, colonel. We powder our noses”, Harleys voice came from somewhere. Looking up, I saw that she was hanging upside down from a rope, one leg intertwined with it. Twirling her ponytails, she winked at me, before blowing a large bubble with the pink gum in her mouth.

Croc had pulled out a second slice from his pocket, and was chewing away. His enjoyment of the snack was almost obscene. He nodded towards the box in front of me. “What you got in there?”, he asked. I rifled through the things, recognizing some of my own belongings. It was now I realized that none of the crew were wearing all prison garb. Diablo had a bluish varsity jacket hanging from a chair, and Deadshots sneakers were definitely not prison grade; I could tell from the high-end label on the side.

The other three were also wearing some sort of personal addition to the orange pants and tank top, provided by Belle Reve. For Croc, it was his brown velvet hoodie; and Digger had on a coat that looked like it desperately needed a washing. Harley had on a pair of striped pink and blue shorts, held up by suspenders. The shorts barely covered her ass, and showed of the many tattoos on her legs.

Taking my favorite band t-shirt out of the box, I noticed it still had some cat hair stuck to it, from my beloved babies at home. Selina, I’m trusting you to take good care of them, I thought. I put the shirt on the floor beside me, and continued to go through the box. A polaroid of me on stage, my first night at Sammy’s; my copy of Alice In Wonderland; a pair of hot pink socks, I’d knitted myself; an oversized greyish flannel shirt, I’d stolen from an ex; some makeup and black nail polish, in a black purse; and a pair of broken, furry handcuffs – Ahh, Vegas, I smiled. Finally, I pulled out a small stuffed bunny, I’d won at a travelling fair, a few weeks before I’d been taken by Hatter. I stroked its tiny face, and discretely kissed its head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Digger looking at me, sending me a friendly smirk and nod. I smiled back.

I kept searching through the box. “Looking for something?”, Flag said from behind me. “Where are my smokes?”, I sighed. “There were no cigarettes in the box when it arrived”, Flag answered me. He’d already gone through it.

A large scaly hand offered me a pack of Marlboro Lights, and looking up at Croc with a thankful smile; I took one of the cigarettes, and popped it in my mouth. “Anyone have a light?”. Diablos hand appeared in front of my face; pinky stretched. A tiny flame burned from it, taking me by surprise; and I half laughed, half guffawed, as I lit the cigarette.

“I knew you could do that!”, Harleys shrill voice sounded. Her head appeared next to mine, and she rested her chin on my shoulder. She smelled like bubblegum and cotton candy, and for a hot second I was tempted to turn my head and lick her face.

“Who the hell gave Croc access to cigarettes?”, Flag muttered to Deadshot. “You know how he gets when he runs out, and goes cold turkey!”. “You’re telling me, man. There’s still a hole in the wall between his and my cell, from when he ran his fist through it”, Deadshot smirked.

“Ooh! What’s that?”, Harley asked, and reached in to the box, revealing a false bottom. I removed the thin board of metal.

There you are!

Surrounded by the whole crew – a curious Digger having joined us – I picked up a black, cropped and hooded faux leather jacket. The pleather was undamaged still, and putting it on, I pulled up the hood, and closed the zipper. With the help of the hood and the large collar, my face disappeared into shadows. Flag looked at me, lifting his chin; staring me down. His gaze made me slightly uncomfortable – or was it stirred? – and I took off the jacket again.

A loose purple, off the shoulder crop top; and a pair of black, high waist, lycra and mesh leggings completed the outfit. Finding my favorite combat boots in the box, I only needed one thing.

I moved around rope, a crowbar, some lockpicks, and a hammer and chisel. There they were. My claws.

“Cute mittens”, Harley giggled, and grabbed for the black fingerless gloves. “Careful!”, I gasped, and quickly grasped them. Harley pouted. “What? You don’t like sharing your toys?”.

I put on the gloves, made a fist; and from my knuckles sprang 4 curved knives. Edwards and the twins quickly raised their guns at me, prepared to shot, if I tried anything. I rolled my eyes, and noticed Flag trying to hide a smile.

Picking up an old sock, I demonstrated the blades sharpness, by cutting through it. The knives went through the fabric like butter; and Harleys eyes widened. “Oh”, was all she said, after which she took a step back; and went to stand behind Deadshot. “Lady, you got some sharp nails there”, he said, and chuckled.

“You still know how to use them?”, Flag asked, not removing his eyes from the blades on my hands. I just smirked.

I went to stand by the wall. I could feel eyes on my back from my audience. I bent my knees; and then leaped. I grasped the wall with the claws, and started climbing upwards. At the top of the wall was a row of tiny windows. “Don’t do it, Y/N!”, Flag called, as I heard the soldiers cock their guns. I looked over my shoulder, winked at him; and smiled.

I quickly moved laterally on the wall. Gunshots sounded, and the wall beside me suddenly was full of holes. “Hold your fire! Hold your goddamn fire!”, Flag yelled desperately. The gunfire stopped, and I made myself reappear; hanging by my claws from the basketball hoop on the opposite wall. One of the Tweedles cocked his gun again; and everything after that happened in slow motion.

The soldier took aim at me; looking pissed. From out of nowhere, Flag jumped at him; knocking him to the ground. The gun went off; bullet narrowly missing my head – and I fell.

---

I landed on my back; the wind knocked out of me. I closed my eyes, and heard people running towards me. I felt a strong arm under my back, and a hand behind my head. “Y/N”, Flags shaking voice called out. “Come on kitten, wake up”, he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my neck.

I opened my eyes, seeing his face inches from mine, mouth slightly opened to speak again. I suddenly noticed there were specks of green in his brown eyes.

I blinked once. “Are you gonna kiss me now?”, I asked, and smiled crookedly.

Flag let go of me, and pulled back, lips now in a thin line. He stood up, and stormed towards the shooting twin. He grabbed his collar; and slammed him against the wall. “What the fuck is your problem? Do you not know how to follow an order?”. The soldier put his hands up. “Sir, she was going awol!”. “She is an asset. Wallers asset!”. Flag punched Tweedle in the gut; making him double over. “Get this asshole out of here”, he called to Edwards and the other twin; who dragged the panting soldier out of the room, Flag following them to the door, still cursing.

Deadshot crouched in front of me, holding his hand in front of my face, a couple of fingers raised. “How many fingers am I holding up?”, he asked. “What are fingers?”, I joked; making him chuckle again.

He helped me onto my feet. “You are a hard one to kill, Chess”. “Nah”, I answered. “I can die plenty. I think my secret is, I just really don’t want to”, I said, and stretched my arms into the air, feeling my bones pop.

“Why didn’t you run? You could have made it through the window”, Diablo asked from behind Deadshot. “I wouldn’t have made it half a mile. I’m spent”, I answered. “I need energy to smile, and they’ve had me living on cat food for a month. Only just had a real meal yesterday”. “Que cabrón”, Diablo spat.

Politely refusing one of Crocs pocket-pizza slices; I went back to my box of belongings. Kneeling beside it, I quickly changed into the band t-shirt. It had been a snug fit once; but my kibble-diet had made it quite a bit looser.

Flag crouched next to me. “You good?”. He didn’t look at me, but kept his eyes on the ground. “That wasn’t supposed to happen”. I scoffed. “I’m fine. Just a few more bruises to add to the collection”. Flag exhaled. “You can keep the civilian clothes, and three items from the top layer of the box. Your combat equipment will be stored for you, until you need it”. He stood back up. “The rest will be destroyed”.

I scowled at him, and stood up, putting my hands on my hips; swaying back and forth a bit, deciding; then bent over, and started gathering the things I’d chosen. I felt his eyes on me. “Checking out the asset?”, I teased.

“Could you just for a second stop that shit? Stop flirting, and start being serious about the situation you are in!”, he growled at me. “Why? Am I getting in to your head?”, I twirled around, and pouted at him innocently.

He shook his head, and furrowed his brow, scoffing at me. “Just quit it, and do the job we brought you here to do”.

I stepped up to him, and looked him square in the face. “I’ll quit it, when you quit that good soldier bullshit”, I spat. “You had no right to go after me, and no right to keep me here”.

“I have every right”, he said calmly, staring down his nose at me. “You’re a scumbag. A criminal. The world would be better if you just disappeared”. “Oh?”, I asked; not breaking eye contact. “Tell me, what’s the difference between me and the Bat? That asshole is beating up people left and right; no badge, no warrant… He decides who he thinks is a bad guy, and drags them to the front step of Arkham, or airdrops them in to this shithole”.

I stomped away to grab the sack that had been over my head earlier. I stuffed the book, the makeup-purse, and finally the rabbit into it. I saw Deadshot and the others huddled in a corner; obviously trying to give me some space; and pretending not to be staring at the scene.

Flag stormed after me, grabbed my arm, and spun me around; holding me in place, as I struggled. “You are nothing like him. He brings down criminals. You kidnap judges, and torture them”. His face was inches from mine. “He has never stolen money from anyone”. “Maybe that’s because he is already the richest man in the goddamn country!”, I hissed at him. I looked at the squad in the corner. They didn’t seem to have heard.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”, Flag asked, and let go of my arm. I rubbed the spot he’d been holding on to. “Never mind”, I quietly answered, not wanting to get into it. The papers I’d seen in Lucius Fox’ safe, had made me put two and two together; but as I’d told Deadshot before, I really didn’t want to die – so mr. holier-than-thou Waynes secret, was safe with me. That was one wasps nest I was not putting my hand into.

Flags face had softened. “What happened with judge Kelper?”. “Your read the file”, I answered, not looking at him. “I kicked his ass”. “Before that”, he demanded. “What made you do it? If you’re not a bad guy, you must have had a reason”. I closed the box, and sat down on it. “Truth?”, I asked. He nodded.

“Kelper would show up at the club sometimes – slumming it. I knew who he was, because he was the judge at an arraignment, where I was charged with pickpocketing for the Hatter”. I folded my hands in my lap. “Someone caught you pickpocketing?”, he smirked, a slight warmth returning to his eyes. “Tetch hadn’t fed me in a couple of days. When my bloodsugar is low, and my energy is down, it’s difficult to keep up the mirage”, I admitted. “Anyway, Kelper would bring in whoever he was paying off, to further his political career, and wave money around; getting the performers to join them at their table. I was stupid enough to take some of it myself”. I winced; remembering how I’d sat on his lap, and played the part of willing participant in his little erotic adventure. Flag looked down. “I never let it go any further than a lapdance”, I said, actually worried he’d think even less of me than he already did.

“So, then what?”, he asked. I bit my lip. “Did you know he’s married? He’s got a beautiful trophy wife, and two teenage daughters, almost out of high school. Cheerleaders, blonde. Ditsy as fuck, but on their way to bright futures, due to daddys money, and mommys good looks”. “But?...”, he probed.

I sighed. “There was a girl at the club, Sarah, just turned 18; poor family, desperately trying to scrape up some money for college. One night, he invited her to join him and his friends in their limo. He said he’d give her a ride home, and maybe a recommendation for college”. Flags eyes turned cold again. I continued. “He kept calling her Stephanie, even when she tried to correct him”. I looked up at him. He was looking more and more aggravated. “She didn’t show up for work the next day, so I went to her place”. I ground my teeth together, before continuing. “Her mom told me she was in the hospital. When Sarah had refused to put out willingly, Kelper had held her down... When he was finished with her, he’d let his friends have the leftovers”.

I looked at my feet. “His youngest daughters name is Stephanie”.

I was jolted, when Flag kicked the box I was sitting on; clenching his fist, and cursing quietly. “Sorry”, he said, looking at me. I was unsure what the apology was for; the kick, or my story.

I stood up. “So, now you know. I beat that shitheads face into a pulp, clawed his skin; and made sure he’d never be able to do that to another person again”. Flag stayed quiet.

I picked up my sack of belongings, and went to face him again. “And just for the record, that last 13.000 dollars… Sarahs mom couldn’t afford the hospital bill, and became behind on the payments. They almost got kicked out of their apartment the week before I raided that safe”.

We stood there for a little while, staring each other down.

“I’m sorry that happened”, Flag said. He sighed. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the situation you’re in. You’re going to have to be a part of this team, if you want to ever get your life back”. He was almost apologetic. “I know”, I admitted. “And for the record; I am a bad guy”, I said. “A really good bad guy”. Flag smirked at me, and moved to the middle of the room. Apparently, our conversation was over.

---

“Alright people! Unfortunately, we won’t have a lot of time to get acquainted with our newest team member”, he called, grabbing the attention of the rest of the squad. “We have a new mission”. “That was fast”, Deadshot said. “Sorry, Floyd. You’re going to have to take a rest from the ball, and reacquaint yourself with your guns”, Flag answered.

“So. Here’s the brief…”.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

[kindofwriter]

I am starved for balance content, please, tell me about your extremely specific Taako designs

Lol, big same, I started taz waaay too late. I literally cannot even begin to explain what kind of can o’ worms you’ve opened up there, OP, this is gonna be a goddamn essay! I imagine Taako changes his style massively depending on the arc.

But first, the basics: I will accept nothing other than this boy being from Fantasy Mexico. He has brown skin. Brown eyes, but flecked with purple in a cool, magic kinda way. Freckles, bc that’s cute. A real chonky boy, bc I want nice things for fat people, and Taako is a very nice thing. Taller than Magnus with the hat, but only because it’s a very tall hat. And, of course, the iconic tooth gap.

And now for specifics you never asked for or wanted!

Here There be Gerblins:

Taako just has the world’s most obvious adventurer outfit. He’s a classic celebrity on the run - trying to wear clothes that will help him blend in, but his face is still adorned with gorgeous glamour spells (aka stage makeup). He has loose, belted brown pants, a loose pirate-esque cream shirt, and a brown cloak, topped with a matching brown wizard’s hat. His hair is pulled back into a long, blond plait. He just looks kind of sad.

Murder on the Rockport Limited:

Cha’ boy has some knowledge back and he’s shown the fuck up! A tailored evening-blue suit with silver trim, one-inch silver, heeled boots, a blue hat with a silver buckle, pale blue lipstick, and flowing, straightened silver hair, with a pair of small, blue-tinted oval glasses sat on his nose. I also really love the idea that the umbra staff changes to match Taako’s style, and turns from red to blue with silver frills.

Petals to the Metal:

I imagine that for the first half of the arc, after Rockport, Taako has a bit of a cute conductor thing going on. A loose fitting dark blue suit with a cute little blue conductors hat. Long, wavy brown hair. Blue eyeshadow and bronze lipstick.

But then after they steal from the racing gang he’s in full Racer Boy couture. Black leather pants, black leather jacket, studded choker, red, cropped cotton shirt, bright red lipstick. And he re-does his hair so he has a black fringe and red waves, which get tied into two mangeable little space-buns for the race.

Crystal Kingdom:

We all know what the space suits look like. But as for the rest of the look: bubblegum pink hair, curled and messily pulled back into those same buns, with matching lipstick. The Soft Boi look.

The Eleventh Hour:

We all know of the iconic mauve skirt, but I imagine he had a matching fringed jacket and hat, cropped white T-shirt, and white cowboy boots. Pink, circular sunglasses. Loose, wavy, ginger hair. And cute little cherry earrings, bc why not?

The Suffering Game:

The ultimate hot boi circus look. Candy-floss-pink fringe, with candy-floss-blue space buns. Matching blue lipstick, and matching pink heart-sunglasses. A pearly-white, almost iridescent, jacket with matching skirt and heels, and a pink crop top.

After his legs are mangled in the first challenge Taako quickly (w/ magic, ofc!) changed his outfit: flat, supportive boots, long, loose fitting pants, a white shirt and a blue and pink ring masters coat. The sunglasses are g o n e, lipstick wiped away along with the blood, makeup sweated off, and space buns now two messy tangles he shakes out into waves.

I imagine the spell that takes his beauty chews his hair up a la howl’s moving castle, leaving him with a cute, but ultimately awkward and frizzy bob of wavy hair. It also strips all the dye, leaving it natural. A lot of the scars he got that didn’t get healed immediately are visible again.

The glamour spell smooths his hair out and allows him to dye it back, but it needs to grow out again naturally.

The Stolen Century:

The classique IPRE uniform, plus long, wavy red hair and a blond fringe. Obviously this look would change depending on where they land and what they do, this is just the re-set look.

Story and Song:

Whilst the turn-around between Suffering Game and Story and Song is literal minutes I imagine Taako used magic or returned to his quarters to get rid of his blood-stained Suffering Game garments. He gets a long, black skirt, supportive boots, black tights, a black shirt, and a red cloak. Not a robe, just a regular red cloak, but it feels familiar and nice to be fighting in.

I imagine when he sees Kravitz and drops the glamour spell his legs give way (bc there’s no healing in wonderland!) and Kravitz kinda catches him and steadies him, then, without asking any questions, summons him a cool, raven’s-head walking cane. Lup eventually makes him a new umbra staff, to support him when he’s adventuring, but he uses Kravitz’ cane around the house and in town, bc spells are kind of tiring and it’s nice to be able to walk without holding yourself up with magic.

Over time Taako stops using the disguise spell daily. It’s exhausting, and he feels comfortable around his boyfriend, his sister, his best friends - his family - Ren, Angus, most of his students, actually. He still likes to look perfect on occasion, he is still, y’know, Taako? From TV? But he feels very happy and supported in his life, and that happiness no longer relies on him looking his best.

Just, I have the whole world in my head, every tiny detail of it, and it’s so vivid and whole. Fuck, I just really love podcasts. Thanks for the excuse to rant, OP.

[mypassionfortrash]

KICKS (part 7)

It’s the night Roger’s been training for! Can you continue to keep your kinks and your feelings separate?

WARNINGS: Strong D/s themes throughout this fic; small mentions of sexual/physical abuse; STRICTLY 18+. NOTES: As always a massive thank you to those of you who are sticking with this fic. I promise I’ll try and make this worth your while. If you liked this chapter, please REBLOG THE EVERLOVING FUCK OUT OF THIS (and maybe leave feedback, I beg of thee). Thank you!

CATCH UP: Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six

TAGS: @jennyggggrrr​ @sarahgurl09​ @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy​​ @brianssixpence​ @hellohellothere12 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @internationalkpoplova @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @six-bloodyminutes @hannafuckingsucks​ @dancingcoolcat​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @theedwardscollection​ @inthelapofrogertaylor​ @80s-roger​ @just-my-sickly-pride​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @johndeaconshands​ @loveandbeloved29​ @toreyyyyyy @fallingprincess​ @radiob-l-a-hblah

Tugging the zipper on your makeup bag, you stared across at your reflection on your wardrobe door. Hair up in rollers, rogue sparkling away on your lips, your silk robe draped over your shoulders. Your skin still glowed from a flaming hot shower. You looked good, though, you reasoned to yourself above your heartbeat surging away in your ears. With trembling fingers, you jabbed out Roger’s number.

“Hello?” Roger’s voice wavered over the line.

“Hello, Roggie. Ready for our playdate?”

“Yeah… about that,” he began.

That was the starting gun and your mind was off to the races.

“I’ve been really bad,” Roger admitted, with the kind of sly intonation that made him sound like he was sharing a sordid secret with you. “I–I… I came last night.”

You sucked in a heavy sigh of relief, but before you could talk, Roger was back at it, explaining himself.

“You see I managed to take the biggest plug while I was… you know… and it just sort of popped in. I couldn’t help it.”

He sounded rather pleased with himself. “Well, you know I’m going to have to punish you, don’t you, Roggie?”

On the other end of the line, Roger swallowed hard, feeling his breathing cripple in an iron fist around his lungs.

“Don’t you, Roggie?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be over in an hour,” you began. Your tone could have carved stone. “I want you waiting on your knees with your back to the door. Bottom in the air. I want you naked and lubed up with that plug inside you. Keep the door unlocked. Do you understand?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you in an hour.”

As soon as you hung up, you cast an eye over to the duffel bag at the foot of your bed. You had crammed it with all the accoutrements you needed for another night with Roger, plus clothes for work the next day. But you never banked on having to pack something to punish him with. He was always so eager and obedient any time you checked in on him. 

Leaning forward, you pulled open the drawer at the bottom of your wardrobe. You liked to keep these items separate from the ones in the cabinet at your bedside. 

Drawing your fingers over all the torture instruments at your disposal, you wondered about Roger’s pain tolerance. He was so slight that you wondered if he really could take anything more than a flimsy little riding crop. Canes and whips and floggers were out of the question. For now, of course. You wiggled your fingers just a bit more.

There it was.

Exactly what you had been looking for.

You were going to wear gloves, the elbow length vinyl ones that were draped over the bed frame with the rest of your outfit. They would be enough to dull the pain but still pack a punch. Chewing the inside of your lip, you closed the drawer.

And then you snatched it open again.

On second thoughts, you couldn’t guarantee your hand would be enough for him. After all, Roger was stubborn. He had fight in him. What if he misbehaved again?

In a second of pure sadism, you laughed to yourself as you picked up a small and supple leather paddle. That would be perfect.

Looking at the clock beside your bed, your eyes bulged. Somehow you had managed to waste ten whole minutes and you still needed to get dressed, and drive to Roger’s, and allow yourself some time to gather your composure once you got there. 

You cursed under your breath and jumped to your feet. 

Grabbing the bottle of talcum powder from your washbag, you patted some powder over your stomach and your thighs. You had big plans for your outfit, but if even a hint of sweat or moisture stuck around on your skin, that plan would become very very difficult for you. You held up a pair of shiny black hot pants to assess just how much sucking in your had to do to hike those up. “Here goes nothing.”

It turns out the shorts were the least of your worries. When you had slipped into your sheer red bra, your fishnet stockings and then your vinyl gloves, the time came to put on your boots. They rose to your knees with heels that lifted you up to the sky. But it had been a while since you had a chance to wear them. 

Maybe it was you? Maybe the zipper was just stubborn? But you definitely broke a sweat by squeezing into them. And you wasted another ten minutes doing just that.

So, all dressed up like a devilish Wonder Woman, you slipped on your coat, grabbed your bag and hurried out to your car.

A disconnect between your gut and your brain nearly landed you in an accident or two on the way to Roger’s place. You struggled to keep your eyes on the road as came in waves. But when you arrived and the car came to a halt, it was a struggle just to breathe.

Focusing on the reflection of your eye in the rearview mirror helped. Blinking slowly, lined with heavy black eyeliner. When you calmed down, it travelled from the mirror to Roger’s door and the dull glow coming from the stained glass window up above it.

All the houses on the broad suburban street were dotted safely apart. No risk of curtain pullers here. That was a bonus, you thought, stepping out of your car. You grabbed your bag from the boot and looked around again. Not a soul in sight.

He must be rich – richer than you even dared to imagine – you thought, tottering down the winding path in his front garden. Neatly trimmed shrubs and exotic looking plants shone through the darkness, and you couldn’t get over the sheer enormity of the house itself. You counted three floors, but your neck couldn’t crane your neck far enough to verify that. You cast a glance back to your decade-old Ford Escort sitting at the side of the road. He was definitely too rich for you.

Bolstering yourself for what was waiting for you on the other side, you reached for the handle, taking a deep breath. Your eyes widened when you realised that Roger had left the door unlocked. That sparked an unbearable curiosity and one swift push later, the door was open; the sight that greeted you took your breath away.

Without a word, you stepped inside on unsteady legs. All while Roger kept still on the floor, waiting for you to greet him.

“Good boy,” you whispered, giving his hair a ruffle as you breezed past him, shrugging out of your coat as you moved along. The hall was quaint, decorated with dark wood and ornate rugs on the floor. You pointed towards the room on your left. “Is the living room through here?”

“Yes,” Roger said.

“Good. Follow me. On your knees.”

With every move that Roger made, his muscles seemed to contract and tense in a strange mix of anticipation and the draught from the hall seeping into his frame. The wooden floor bore into his knees, making crawling even more uncomfortable for him. He barely kept up.

Perching on the edge of a chesterfield sofa, you gave Roger a moment to catch up. His head was bowed as he tried to maintain his composure. But when he arrived at your feet, he looked up at you with big, sad eyes. 

Curling one of your vinyl clad fingers under Roger’s chin, you kept his sights set firmly on you. “Are you going to be good?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Ok,” you said, sitting back. You patted your thigh. “Over my lap.”

Roger scrambled to his feet for the first time in almost an hour. Unsteady and unsightly, he flung himself over your knee, facing the floor.

He was light as a feather but he had more than enough to grab on to at the back. “Do you know why I’m punishing you, Roggie?” you asked, unable to resist pawing at his soft backside. 

“I–I disobeyed you,” he began. “I was supposed to go a whole week without making myself come. And I disobeyed you.”

“I’m so disappointed in you, Roggie.”

Roger fumbled at the top of your stockings. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not going to go easy on you for this. You’ll have to work for it.”

“I know.”

“But, if you want me to stop, what do you say?”

Without hesitation, Roger spoke: “Red.”

“Good. You ready?”

Roger shuffled on your lap in an attempt to get comfortable, but he quickly realised it was no good. There was no comfortable position. Not like this. You felt him give up; his muscles relaxed. Resigned. “Ready.”

You started hard. One swift stinging swat to his cheeks to test the water had him hissing. “Remember, if you need me to stop just say–“

“Red, I know.”

“Oh, he has an attitude,” you cooed. “You know, I was going to ease you into this, but now I don’t think I will.”

Before Roger could respond, you doled out no less than twenty strikes, with one arm around his waist to keep him still as he fought for control over his movements. His skin burned, but his cock pressing up against your thigh told a different story.

“You’re.” 

One smack. 

“Not.” 

Another smack. 

“Supposed.” 

Another one. 

“To be.” 

And another. 

“Enjoying this.”

Roger’s backside was painted with pink handprints, but he was stubborn. He wasn’t showing any signs of remorse. Not even a single ‘ow.’ You had to be sure he wasn’t just gritting his teeth to get through this. You had to test his limits. 

“I think we should take this up a notch, don’t you, Roggie?” you said, prodding at the base of the plug he was wearing.

“N-no!… Yes.”

“At least you followed that instruction, didn’t you?” You gave the plug a twist and then pulled it ever so slightly until the metal bulb inside him became visible. That was enough to elicit a moan from him. And for you to refocus on the task at hand. “Didn’t you, my little slut?” you repeated with another smack on Roger’s bottom.

“Yes, yes. Fuck.”

With one arm around Roger’s waist, you reached down with the other to unzip your bag. You fumbled around inside it, searching for the paddle from earlier. “This ought to get to you squeal,” you said, gripping it firmly. “After all, you’ve been very naughty.”

“I know,” Roger’s voice wavered.

You brought the paddle down on Roger’s bottom ten times in quick succession. Each and every whack punctuated with whimpers from him. He was starting to break. Then you paused, admiring your work. A pattern of bright scarlet blotches all over his tender little rump. “My, my you sound pretty when you whine, Roggie. Is it getting too much for you yet?”

“No,” he scoffed. “I can take it.”

You chuckled. “Right. Twenty more then and we’ll see if you’re still a brave little bitch.”

“Oh… FUCK!” Roger hunched over, grasping at your thigh for some semblance of relief.

“You’ll never learn if you don’t take it.” Your tone was cold, cracking the paddle down on his soft, sensitive flesh. “Ten fucking more,” you hissed. “Count for me.”

“Fuck,” Roger whined.

“It’ll be quick. I promise you. Just ten more.”

Sure enough, Roger counted the final ten strikes without missing a single one. Although tears did make an appearance by number five. And he could barely speak by number ten.

And when it was over, his skin was dripping with sweat. His body felt limp as he sniffled into your thigh.

In the moment, discipline always felt so cathartic for you and any sub you went through that with, but afterwards, the guilt you felt was always so overwhelming. First and foremost, you didn’t want his sweet derrière coming up in welts. You didn’t want to prolong the pain any longer. Grabbing the tube of ointment from your bag of tricks, you applied some to Roger’s skin. You could feel the burning of the swollen scarlet marks as you worked it in.

Roger still whimpered and squirmed. You swore you felt tears trickle down on to your leg. 

“It’ll be over in just a second,” you soothed. “It’s ok.” When you finished up, Roger’s body was still limp enough that you could pull him upright to sit on your knee. You wrapped your arms around him, trying to transfer some heat from your body to his own and swept the tears from his cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

Roger lifted his hands to his face to take care of the straggling tears. “I’m ok.” Then he laughed under his breath, a small smiled formed at the corners of his mouth. “That was intense. I don’t think my dick’s ever been this hard.”

“I think you’ve earned a reward after that.”

Roger’s eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, leaning in closer to him. “Do you want to show me what that gorgeous arse of yours can do?”

Roger nodded and grinned. “Ok.”

You had to race to keep up with Roger as he led you upstairs towards the bedroom. That struggle was compounded by the lack of light in the staircase and down the hall. Luckily, Roger arrived at his bedroom and flipped on the light, looking back at you rushing towards him, duffle bag in hand. 

“On the bed, slip a pillow under your hips, spread those legs,” you grinned, dumping the bag on the floor.

“Christ, you’re not fucking around, are you?” he quipped, flopping backwards. He propped his feet up on the edge of the bed and eyed you rummaging around for his reward.

You sensed this and glanced up at him. “Touch yourself for me. But don’t come just yet.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Averting his eyes, he wrapped his hand around the shaft of his cock and started gently stroking it. He listened intently to you unpacking everything you needed to put him through his paces. But even with the distraction, it took mere seconds before his muscles tensed. Especially around the plug still inside him. He had to take a breather.

But that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon. Not while you stood at the foot of the bed donning a bright red strap-on that sat just inches away from Roger’s bottom. “You’re so pretty like this,” you purred. You slipped your fingers underneath the base of Roger’s plug and gently pulled at it. At first, his muscles resisted and the plug shot back inside him. He groaned at the sensation. “You like that?”

“Yes,” he sighed. 

His eyes couldn’t meet your own, but now wasn’t the time to push him too far. For now, you revelled in how angelic he looked with his red cheeks and bashful mannerisms having all of this done to him. Letting you do this. You pulled at the plug again, this time further out. He clung to it at its widest point in an impressive stretch that showed you just how much he had been practising since the last time you met. “I love seeing that gorgeous arse of yours all stretched out for me, Roggie. You’ve really been working hard. Training yourself to take my big, hard cock, haven’t you?” You let go of the plug again, and sure enough, Roger sucked the plug back inside.

“Every day, just like you told me,” he sighed. He started to jerk himself off again. “And I loved every second of it.”

“I think you deserve a big reward, don’t you?”

His eyes were still closed; you could tell he was engulfed in sheer bliss. And you were only getting started. “Yes, please,” he smiled.

Finally, you eased the plug all the way out of Roger with a pop. Then you replaced it with one well-lubed finger, pushing in right up to the knuckle. “Look at this beautiful little hole. Let’s see how many fingers you can take.”

“Ok,” he nodded.

Another finger joined the first, curling in on themselves while Roger worked his hand over his cock. But that didn’t earn enough of a reaction for your liking. So you added a third. Roger’s lips parted with a quiet moan. “Feel good?” you asked.

“So good.”

“Another?”

“Try it,” he said.

With a healthy amount of pressure and a hefty dose of lube, your pinkie joined the rest of your fingers, fucking Roger. “Fuck, you really like being stretched out like this Roggie.”

“I love it,” he purred, arching his back against your movements. 

“Are you close?” Your fingers curled with renewed purpose, hoping for the answer you really wanted. His own hand certainly travelled faster.

Roger couldn’t speak. So he nodded.

And then, you withdrew your fingers.

Roger let out a pained whine at the loss of contact. Suddenly his hand just wasn’t enough. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Roggie?” you pouted, peeling back your gloves from the arms down. 

“Please put them back inside me,” he begged. “Please!”

With your gloves discarded on the floor, you loomed over Roger. Your fingers wrapped around the red dildo between your legs, spreading a generous amount of glistening lube over the shaft. “I can give you something better,” you smirked. 

“Please get on with it,” he huffed.

With a devilish look, you grabbed Roger’s wrists and pinned them above his head. Your other hand pressed your rubber cock against his entrance. “You want it?”

“Please.”

“Tell me how much you want it. What do you want, Roggie? Use your words.”

He couldn’t look at you. Instead, he screwed his eyes closed and turned his head away. “Fill me. Fuck me. Anything. Please.”

“Alright, Roggie,” you soothed, easing into him. “Just relax.” You kept your eyes trained on Roger’s face for any inkling of discomfort or apprehension. But that never came. 

Instead, Roger’s jaw slackened as you bottomed out. A delicious, warm fullness swelled inside him. He didn’t strain against your grip on his wrists and he didn’t need to touch his cock for him to climb that tense slope at an achingly slow pace again. 

“Feel good?” you asked.

“Amazing.”

“I’m going to start moving now, just let me know if it hurts.”

“Ok.”

You leaned back and pulled away from Roger. Your hands trailed along the backs of his thighs before hiking them up high around your waist. Roger was utterly exposed to you in every sense of the word, but he didn’t mind. As your thrusts began, slow and shallow, his hips rolled to meet yours. Finding a position that worked for both of you. His arms stretched out above his head, reaching to grasp at the pillows for something – anything – to help him keep his grip on reality while you gathered pace. Purposeful, unrelenting pace.

You knew Roger was proud and you knew he didn’t do ‘vulnerable’ and there was something about seeing him so unhinged and so undone that made this even more special. He didn’t even need to say a word for you to know that. And he looked so beautiful just lying there taking your cock, being lavished with all the attention his heart desired. And you needed to be closer to him again. 

You leaned down, pressing your body close to his as you continued to fuck him. You could feel his heart racing away in his chest and every moan rattle his ribs. And his fingers. Tracing your shoulderblades as he held you close to him.

Tighter. Then tighter still.

Your breath caught the mist of sweat along his collarbones, making him shiver when you spoke. “Close?”

“Please keep going,” he begged through gritted teeth. “Keep going.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Roggie,” you reassured. “Not until I see you come.”

Roger’s lips curved, safe in the knowledge you wouldn’t rob him of the pleasure he so desperately chased. Even if you wanted to, Roger was too far gone. Over the edge. Bathed in absolute euphoria.

Roger returned to his senses with you nestled into his chest. You watched over him, trying to search for any sign of pain or discomfort. But all you found was a look of sheer satisfaction. 

“You look exhausted,” you said, stroking his chin.

“Feel exhausted. And disgusting.”

You laughed and gave his chest a gentle pat. “I’ll go and run you a bath.”

Stepping into Roger’s bathroom felt like a shock to the system. Equal amounts of opulence and tackiness, just like Roger’s fashion sense. Green marble and gold accents. A deep tub lined with bits and bobs in stylish, expensive-looking bottles. You knew the drill, though. 

Bubble bath. 

Water. 

You left it to run and ducked back into the bedroom to find a sweaty, bedraggled Roger bundling robes and towels into his arms.

He peered at you over the thin gold rims of his glasses. “Are you sticking around?” he asked. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night. Plenty of space.”

A nerves crept up your chest as you tried to croak your words out. Sure, you had packed a change of clothes, just in case, but you didn’t bank on Roger actually wanting you to stay. “I’d love to.” Before Roger had time to respond, you continued. “I better go and check on your bath.” 

You had already peeled off your shiny sexy getup and hopped in the shower when Roger came through, but you had yet to switch it on. Your hands flitted between the two gold dials on the wall. This wasn’t like your shower back home.

Roger’s voice made you jump out of your skin. “The left one’s for temperature, and the right one’s for pressure.”

You turned around, trying your best to cover yourself with your arms. He hadn’t fully seen you naked yet. Your jaw was slack from the horror. “What was that?”

Roger obviously got a kick out of your predicament. He had poked his head into the cubicle to speak to you, but he lingered there just a second too long for your liking. With bright eyes and a fiendish smirk. “I said the left one’s for temperature and the right one’s for pressure. Start slow with the right one, and maybe cower in a corner while it warms up,” he laughed. 

Gingerly turning up the dial on the right – just a single notch – the ceiling dumped an icy deluge right on top of you. You shrieked, trying to cover your body with your arms again and turning away from the shards that fired at your skin. Through the cubicle, you could just about make out a smile on Roger’s face as he observed you from the bathtub. He had to lie facing you, didn’t he?

“I told you to start slow!”

“I bloody did,” you said, turning back into the stream. Thankfully, strands of warmth trickled into the downpour. But it just wasn’t enough for you. So you reached for the dial on the left, ratcheting the heat all the way up. The temperature change took forever to kick in, but when it did, it went from bearable to the fiery depths of hell before you had the chance to react to what was happening. Again, it made you yelp and cling to the steamed up panels. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you hissed, slinking your hand along the wall towards the dial again. Eventually, with a lot of patience and only minor scalding, the shower allowed you to bathe comfortably. Now all you had to do was find something to wash the night’s dirt and grime off of you.

You didn’t have to look far. A small golden dish was fixed to the emerald green wall with a purple bottle on top of it. Turning the bottle in your hand, you read the label, smiling as you did. Maybe you’d smell like Roger if you used this? He always smelled like heaven; lavender and rosemary.

And he had the cheek to call you out on your banana shampoo.

You squeezed a dollop of the silky liquid into your palm and lathered it over your skin, allowing the scent to unravel all the knots in your muscles and your mind. Visions of what had happened between you and Roger barely an hour before hijacked your imagination and you couldn’t help but give a satisfied hum as it all played out. There was nothing you would have changed about it. But the lower your hands travelled, the more your awareness returned. You could feel Roger’s eyes focusing on you – as much as his eyesight allowed.

Peering over your shoulder, sure enough, you found him with his arm resting on the side of the tub, and his face propped against his hand. His sleepy eyes followed every single move you made with a look of soft, dreamy lust. And that hit you right between your thighs.

Your gaze shot forward and it stayed there while you rinsed the suds from your skin. You couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge that Roger was watching you. Again.

When you shut off the water and stepped out of the cubicle, your trembling legs took you over to the chair beside the bathtub. 

Not once did Roger peel his eyes off of you. 

You took a towel and wrapped it around your body, then you looked down at him. Still wearing a smug but content expression. “What’s the matter with you?” you purred.

“You look nice.”

“Don’t get too amorous.”

He huffed. “Last time I pay you a compliment.”

Without saying a word, you ruffled his hair and gravitated towards the mirror opposite the shower and the tub. It spanned the entire width of the back wall. When your features came into focus, you were startled by what you saw. You could handle the grey wisps of steam dancing off your scorched skin, or the way your hair fell flat and clung to your face. But you made one grave error in your haste to shower. Your makeup slipped your mind. And now, you looked like Ronald McDonald’s meth-addicted cousin. Black spikes splayed from your eyes and a red grin spread from cheek to cheek. “I look nice?” you said, glancing at Roger. Unable to contain a giggle.

He looked you up and down. “Well… everything south of the face.”

“Take it you don’t have wipes or anything?” you asked, circling your finger around your face.

“Soap and water, darling.”

You shook your head, turning back to the mirror. 

Roger returned from the bathroom to find you sitting cross-legged on his bed. In the time he had spent in the tub, you had commandeered one of his shirts to sleep in and the sight of you like this, with your damp hair and dewy skin, almost made him forget how to breathe. “You really do look nice,” he said quietly.

He had barely got your attention, standing in the doorway, swaddled in an oversized bathrobe, but his words were enough to scorch your cheeks and your chest even more than the shower did before. “You think?” you asked. You had tried so hard not to sound needy or dumb. Now you just felt the overwhelming urge to backpeddle furiously. “I mean… yeah, thanks.”

Roger sat down at the foot of the bed and studied every detail of you over the frames of his glasses. His eyes lingered on his shirt. “Did you find everything you needed?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “The only thing I’m missing is a toothbrush.”

“Well, I might not have your make up wipes, but I do have spare toothbrushes. I’ll remember the wipes for next time.”

“Good.”

“I also have lots of wine,” he added, waggling his eyebrows enough to make you giggle.

“Wine would be lovely,” you said.

Roger heaved himself on to his weary feet and got as far as the door before he turned back to you. “Red? White? What do you fancy?”

“Something fruity!”

“Something fruity,” he repeated with a wink. “That about sums you up!”

The first bottle of wine went down smoothly. You and Roger danced around in his bedroom lit by golden lamps along the walls, with Springsteen playing on a well used tape deck in the corner. Dancing and laughing and focused wholly on each other. 

By the end of the second bottle, balancing became impossible. You and Roger collapsed side by side. Out of breath, grinning wildly and looking up at the ceiling. Until Roger’s gaze shifted. You couldn’t see it. But you felt it. “You’ve gone awfully quiet, Roggie. Bum trouble?”

“I’m just thinking,” he laughed.

“About your bum? Is it sore?”

Roger rolled on to his side and propped himself up on his arms. “You know how you have those three rules?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve never really told me why you have them.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. Trying to visualise where to begin. “Right,” you said. “I had a really really awful boyfriend a while ago. A real manipulator. One of those guys that thought being dominant meant breezing past your safe words like they were nothing, or when ‘no’ means ‘hit me harder.’ It wasn’t good if I didn’t cry. And all of that just became my sex life for a year.”

Roger couldn’t look you in the eye. “I’m so sorry.”

“And the thing was,” you added, “He was the nicest person ever outside of all that. I loved him. But there’s a difference between getting kinky and getting off on beating someone up. So I suppose this is just my way of separating love and sex and feelings and kink. Setting boundaries. I know how amazing kink is and I don’t want to go without that. But I just don’t think I feel comfortable mixing all of that. I don’t want to get hurt again.”

Roger sensed the streak of sorrow in your voice. His fingers laced with yours and his thumb circled over the back of your hand. “Are you alright?” he asked, flashing you his baby blues.

Somehow, he always managed to melt your heart in lots of different ways. But right then, it was the way his glasses had slid down to the very tip of his nose and the way his eyes rolled off in different directions thanks to the wine. 

“I think so.”

He rolled over on to his front. “Why am I not convinced?”

You laughed. “Do I need to convince you?”

Roger just shrugged and buried his face in his arms, his eyes peering up at you.

You couldn’t resist reaching out to ruffle his hair again, allowing the soft blonde strands to curl around your fingers. “I’m ok.”

“Do you need a cuddle?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows.

Without warning, you rolled on top of Roger; your chest pressed to his back. “You really are lovely, Roggie.”

A dull haze split the curtains; the first wisps of spring in the air. You turned on to your back, eyes fluttering closed again, and drank in that now-familiar scent on the duvet. Roger. 

Your eyes shot open.

Where was he?

Sitting bolt upright, you searched the room for a sign that he wasn’t far away. But you came up blank.

A pang of disappointment turned to a wave of gratitude, though, when you remembered just how terrible you tended to look in the morning. Messy hair. Morning breath. Bare skin. Panic carried you into the bathroom to fix your hair, brush your teeth and maybe, if you were lucky, wash your face and steal some moisturiser.

Face and hair fixed, you wandered through Roger’s house. It looked completely different from the night before. Whether it was the dark or the anticipation, you hadn’t registered much about the strange house you found yourself in. 

The garish ornaments that lined the window ledges in the landing. The way the carpet felt like you were treading on angels. Even the timeline of Queen’s escapades that punctuated every foot of the staircase. It all felt like another way of getting closer to Roger. 

You wondered if he did the same thing when he stayed at your place. 

Nevertheless, you were sure of one thing: Roger Taylor had questionable taste in interior design.

Downstairs, you paused in the hall to get your bearings. To your right was the living room. You had been in there. And on your left was the kitchen. 

The growl of your stomach couldn’t be ignored.

The kitchen was even more outlandish than the living room and the bedroom and the landing and the staircase. Ornate floral tiles lined the walls and the wooden cupboard doors just clashed with the smoky marble countertop. Everything around you felt like was dialled up to eleven. Until you zeroed in on a scrap of paper sitting beside the fridge. 

‘Morning!’ The scrawled note read. ‘Bacon sandwich under the grill. Hopefully, the tea’s still hot! Enjoy! PS: Bum’s fine, by the way!’

Your stomach growled again. You flung open the grill to find the most glorious bacon sandwich you had ever seen. Two rashers of crispy bacon trapped between two inch-thick slices of white, crusty bread. Dripping with golden buttery goodness. And it was still warm.

Chomping through your breakfast, you ambled towards the french doors at the back of the kitchen and looked out on the garden. A drop of orange was starting to spill through the trees along the bounds of the expanse in front of you. But that only held your attention for so long. 

Three revs screeched out from the garage, and somehow you knew that was where you would find him.

After you polished off your sandwich, you quickly poured tea for two and braved the freezing February frost in just Roger’s shirt and your knickers. Running for your life towards the garage and trying your best not to waste a drop of tea. You’d need it.

Inside, Roger toiled away under the hood of a Mercedes, bathed in the orange glow from the paraffin heater behind him. His white t-shirt was smudged with oil and dirt and his hair stuck up in every direction. But he was still sickeningly beautiful, even at this ungodly hour.

“Morning,” you chirped, clutching the two mugs.

In a moment of surprise, Roger cracked his head off the bonnet as he stood up, sending the spanner in his hand crashing to the floor. “Sorry! Hi. Morning,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. A renewed sense of shock and awe washed over his features as you approached him. “You look nice.”

You rolled your eyes and handed Roger his cup of tea, but the burn in your cheeks chipped away at your calm facade. “Do I now?”

“You are.” Roger winked, lifting the cup to his lips. Then he got back to work on his car. 

Perfectly content to watch him work, you hauled yourself up on the workbench behind you, cradling your cup of tea in your hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Even though, in that moment, it was actually hunched over an engine ten feet away. “Why did you come back to the shop that second time?” you blurted.

“You made it impossible for me not to like you.”

“No, but why?” you pressed.

Roger straightened up again. With his back still turned, his shoulders dropped and he stretched his neck from side to side. “I guess,” he began, turning around, “I guess I came back because you know your stuff. You’re funny…” He trailed off, edging closer. “I don’t think you take shit from anyone. And,” he paused, shrugging, “I think you’re gorgeous.”

Your internal monologue screamed. Roger was far too close and he smelled far too good. And it took every ounce of strength you had not to topple backwards. “Oh,” you smiled. Your voice faltered. “Right.”

“I’m going to go for broke here,” Roger said, fluttering his eyelashes at you. “I’m pretty gutted that I can’t even touch you.”

You couldn’t resist pushing him. “Well, do it.”

Roger took one more step towards you, standing between your thighs. His scent was so intoxicating, you couldn’t resist trying to close the gap. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

You nodded. Focusing only on the blissful feeling of having him that close.

His fingertips brushed over your hips. 

That stare of his sucked the air right from your lungs. 

His mouth just inches from yours. “And now I can’t even kiss you.” He bit his lip, looking you dead in the eye. “That’s unfortunate.”

Without thinking, you grabbed Roger’s shirt at the chest and pulled him into you…

NEXT >>

[littleoddwriter]

Ruining You | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask | Smut

"any kind of Feminization with zsaszmask ?" anon

summary; PWP, really. Victor is put into a pretty “outfit” (more of a lack thereof, but ssshhh) and Roman has some fun with him.

notes; KINKS: Feminization; Collars; Thong; Thigh High Socks; Degradation + Name calling + Humiliation (a bit) - essentially Roman calls Victor “missy” and “little bitch”; Deepthroating; Coming Untouched; Dom/Sub; Begging; Coming in underwear. PWP; Lemon; Smut. 

Roman liked pretty things, which was why when he chose his staff, he not only looked for skills, but also looks. Admittedly, while Victor didn't exactly dress particularly well, even though he had started to dress better compared to when they had first met, he was definitely a pretty face. Especially with all those scars on him and those full, pouty lips, the scruffy beard and his pretty brown eyes. It truly was a dream come true to find a man so handsome, who also had the knife skills and cruel streak he was looking for.

Sometimes though, Roman had this craving to dress Victor up, make him look especially pretty. In the beginning, Zsasz wasn't really enthusiastic about it, but he grew fond of it over time, too.

That particular night, Roman had chosen something simple for his partner. He wore his usual smooth, delicate leather collar for such nights, some black thigh high socks and a black, lacy thong. He looked truly delectable in those few things.

Obediently, Victor kneeled on the bed, his back straight, his cock hard and straining against the lace fabric of the thong and his pretty little face would look absolutely passive to anyone else, but Roman saw the desperation and desire hidden in those beautiful eyes.

"Is my little bitch desperate?" Roman cooed, looming over Victor in front of the bed and grasping his chin in his hand.

"Yes, please, Boss!" Victor whined quietly.

"Hmmm, I don't know, baby. Desperation is such a beautiful look on you, after all." With a smirk, Roman ran his finger over Victor's cheek, down his chin, his neck and chest. Then he reached the left nipple and circled it with his finger until it has hardened. A breathy little moan left Victor's lips at that. "See? Beautiful."

A light pink flush tinted Victor's cheeks, and he looked away for a moment, swallowing thickly. Roman loved to take him apart like that. No one had this power over Zsasz. No one but him, of course. He was Roman fucking Sionis after all!

"I do feel like giving you a little treat, though," Roman said, removing his hands from his pet and unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pulled them down a little, just far enough to comfortably get his cock out.

At the sight of Roman's half hard cock in his own hand, Victor's mouth went slack, a little drool leaving his lips. It was incredibly intoxicating to Roman.

"Yeah? You want it in your mouth, baby?" Victor could only nod enthusiastically apparently, making desperate little noises in the back of his throat, "Use your words, Missy." Roman smirked, idly stroking his cock to full hardness.

"Yes! Boss, please, I want your cock in my mouth so badly. Please, Roman!" Victor begged him, oh, so prettily.

His smirk only widened. Then he stepped closer to the edge of the bed, as Victor shuffled forward a little, for easier access. "Get on with it then," Roman sighed, letting go of his cock and twirling his finger for Victor.

The other man immediately latched onto Roman's cock, gently grasping it in one hand and wrapping his plush lips around the head. Victor ran his tongue over it and poked it into the slit, sucking on Roman's cock head, making him moan deeply. After a few moments of just that, Zsasz finally lowered his head to take in more of Roman's length, until his lips met his own hand and the head was lodged in his throat. That's when he started bobbing his head up and down, taking his hand away after some time to get it in deeper each time. Roman's nails dug into Victor's scalp painfully, but he only moaned at the feeling of it. Roman thrusted into the other man's throat, getting in balls-deep, Victor's nose pressed against his pubic bone. He stayed there for about a minute, until he thought Zsasz was about to pass out, due to the lack of oxygen. Then he pulled out, so only his head remained in that delightful mouth.

"I'm going to come down your throat, baby. And you're just going to fucking take it like the little bitch you are, aren't you, Missy?" Roman rasped huskily, shallowly thrusting in and out of Victor's mouth while he talked.

"Yes, Boss!" Victor slurred around Roman's cock, looking completely gone and fucked out already. And what a good look it was on him!

"You're allowed to come from it, but you're not allowed to touch yourself. Understand?"

With wide, glassy eyes, Victor looked up at him and nodded. What a good little bitch, indeed.

Not needing to exchange any more words, or gestures, Roman thrusted his hips forward and buried himself deep in Victor's throat once more. He continued doing that until he finally came down his partner's throat with a long, deep groan, twitching and pulsing inside of Victor's throat until every last drop of his seed was coating it. Then he pulled out, hissing at the oversensitivity of his flesh.

When he had pulled out completely, Victor was panting, his face red and a mess of spit, some come and tears. It was disgusting, but oh, so delightful to look at. No one but Roman could ruin him like that.

As his eyes traveled down Victor's body, he noticed the huge wet and also white spot on the lace fabric of his thong. So he had come. It was to be expected, sure, but it excited Roman every single time, how his pet could come so easily without having to be touched there at all.

Such evenings, where they played like this, sure were some of their favourites.