#and then i.. sketch the same thing as always/cries

[dontmeanyoudontmissit]

So anyways my plan for the next two months is to kickass at work while I get another job and then leave their asses.

[honeyedmiller]

When in Positano | Javier Peña

javier peña x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

warnings: light alcohol consumption, smut (fingering, f & m oral receiving, unprotected piv, major breeding kink, ass slaps), talks of starting a family, an insane amount of fluff, javi is a romantic at heart, bits of spanish with translation, frequent pov switching, no use of y/n.

word count: 6.1k

synopsis: honeymooning in italy with your husband is a dream, especially when he reveals he wants to start a family with you.

a/n: this has been in my wips / drafts since january- and then i ultimately decided to change the whole plot of this bc i've been in a soft mushy mood for husband x reader lately. shoutout to @ilovepedro (ily) for beta'ing this baby for me. hope you enjoy <3

It was times like this that you could hardly believe this was your life.

The morning sun had shown her golden rays through the linen curtains that danced with the wind, illuminating your villa brilliantly. The first thing you get to see when your eyes flutter open is your husband, unknowingly basking in the golden light of the morning. 

You stretch your sore limbs, the glint of your wedding ring in the light catching your attention. You can't help the smile that spreads across your lips, eyes shifting down to the man next to you once again. 

You study his peaceful features as if you were sketching him from memory — tan, warm skin; dark, thick hair; a mustache that always tickles the tiniest bit when he’d kiss you anywhere on your body; a strong, angular nose; long lashes that fan his cheeks; and plush, pink lips that were slightly parted as he breathed steadily. 

The only thing you miss dearly in sight at that very moment are his beautiful brown eyes. The same eyes that had you hooked from the very first time your gaze fell upon them. 

Your eyes travel down to his muscular arms — the same arms that always hold you tight and protect you, all the way down to his torso and his naked, but covered, lower half. 

Your eyes snap up to his gorgeous face once more, reaching your hand out to trace featherlight lines over his smooth skin. You cup his cheek, leaning forward in the slightest to kiss his nose. His brows scrunch in reaction as he finally stirs awake. 

He groans softly as he instinctively wraps an arm around you, bringing your bare body flush to his. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, taking advantage of your proximity to him as you start peppering kisses all over his face. 

You pull back and he peeks one sleepy eye open, a half smile immediately forming on his face. 

“Buenos días, mi amor.” [good morning, my love] He whispers, leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“Buenos días, mi esposo.” [good morning, my husband] You beam, and he gently grabs your left hand — the one that decided to caress his face once more — and looks down at it with pride, seeing the wedding band and engagement ring together. It’s something he’ll never tire of. 

“Still can’t believe you said ‘I do’.” He chuckles, bringing your hand up to his lips so he can kiss your ring. 

“I’d say those two words in a million lifetimes with you, Javier.” You whisper, and his soft brown eyes look up at you in pure adoration. 

“Mi vida.” [my life] He shakes his head in disbelief, an undeniable grin etching itself upon his plush lips. 

You said I do to each other just seventy-two hours ago, and you both have been luxuriating in the blissful feeling of forever. 

Javier surprised you with your dream vacation destination as your honeymoon, and you cried in happiness on your twelve hour flight as you both made your way to Italy. 

You don’t know what you did to deserve such a man as Javier, and you truly don’t think you’ll ever comprehend how you got to marry him. What you do know, is that you’re the luckiest woman alive. 

Little do you also know, he feels the same exact way about you. 

“I love you.” The words flow naturally, easily, and he gives you a look that makes you want to give him the whole universe. Fuck, if you could, you would. 

This man—the man that has endured so much in his past, only to open up his heart to you and only you—to protect you, cherish you, and love you the way he does, is a man that deserves everything gracious and peaceful this world has to offer. 

And if you told him those exact words, he’d kiss you searingly and tell you that you are his grace, his peace, his god-given solace. You are the reason his heart beats, his days are brighter, his world spins on its axis. You’re everything to him and he’d show you time and time again just so. 

“I love you too, cariño.” [honey] His voice is softer, a voice only reserved for you. Underneath the harsh exterior and the stern brow he always wears, there’s a softness that he carries when it’s just you two in the confines of your own space. You always greet him at the door when he comes home, pressing a kiss between his furrowed brows, wrapping your arms around him before telling him “welcome home.” He always relaxes under your touch, and knowing you’re his peace makes pride bloom in your chest. 

Your heart aches in the best way possible with how much you love your husband, and your faithfulness and devotion to him will never, ever waver. 

Javi buries his face into your neck and leaves a trail of kisses up to your jaw, mustache hairs tickling your skin as he nibbles on your chin playfully. 

“What’s on the agenda today, baby?” He asks, hand gliding up the soft skin of your torso, thumb brushing just beneath your breast. The ghost of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you grin lazily as you look at him. 

“I was thinking about the street market we passed yesterday, and maybe a new restaurant?” You say, running a hand through his thick brown locks. You twirl a longer piece at the nape of his neck around your finger, and he begins to kiss your collarbone languidly. 

He hums in thought, kisses trailing down to the swell of your breasts. You cradle the back of his head gently, not particularly wanting him to stop, but also aware that you should really get out of bed and enjoy the beauty of Positano while you can. Your fingers release his head and skate down to his back, gently double tapping the space between his shoulder blades. 

“We should really get up, amor.” [love] Your tone isn’t convincing enough even to yourself, and Javi rests his chin on your sternum as he looks at you with a glimpse of mischief in his eyes. 

“Can I enjoy the sweet taste of my wife first?” His tone is more of a statement than a question, and you can’t help but laugh at his eagerness. Truthfully, if it were up to him, you two probably wouldn’t leave the bedroom very much in the week and a half you get to spend here. To you, Italy was paradise, but to Javier, you were his. 

He could spend days with his face – or cock – buried between your thighs, savoring every moment of your addicting taste and tight cunt. 

“Only if you let me pick the restaurant.” You negotiate poorly, and even then, Javier sports a grin that lights up the whole room. The sun and her radiance doesn’t even nearly hold a candle to your husband’s smile. 

“Deal.” He murmurs, lips marking their territory down your sternum. Before he gets any further, he kisses both of your breasts before enveloping a nipple into his mouth. You suck in a breath at the feeling, the sensation shooting straight down to your already needy and aching core. 

Something of a whine escapes you, tugging on his hair as you arch your back off the mattress. You can feel his smug smirk against your skin before he switches sides, relishing the other pert bud before letting go with a small pop. 

The anticipation is building up much quicker than you expected, and you’re squirming beneath Javi as his lips ghost your stomach, moving down the bed before uncovering your bottom half. 

A lazy grin appears on his lips as he takes in the sight of your puffy, glistening pussy, ready for his tongue to drink you up like you’re the finest nectar on the planet. 

Javier tsks at the sight teasingly, swiping his middle finger through your folds, preening at your receptiveness to his touch as your hips buck toward his mouth involuntarily. “Now who made my beautiful wife this wet and needy, hm?” He asks, moving his face down to kiss the supple skin of your thigh before biting down gently. 

You yelp in surprise, looking down at him only to find him sporting a shit-eating grin. The word wife makes you even needier, loving the fact that you belong to him. 

“You, mi corazón [my heart]. Solo tú.” [only you]

Javi closes his eyes at the endearment, nestling his cheek to your thigh as he breathes in a few times. He feels like he’s in an alternate reality where his dream woman just dropped out of the sky, and he gets to spend the rest of his life with her. 

But this is real, you’re real, and he nearly has to pinch himself to prove that you aren’t a figment of his imagination. He gets to spend eternity with you, and he deems himself the luckiest son of a bitch alive. 

He opens his eyes and his gaze meets yours once more, and you can’t help but reach out for his face. You look so ethereal to him as the golden rays fall upon your body, making you glow like a goddess. Your head is back against the pillows as you watch him with an adoring gaze from above, and he truly has no words to ever conjure up just how much he loves you. 

And, for a moment, as he’s watching you watch him, his eyes flicker down to your stomach. Javier never thought he’d be a man who wants to have kids in his life. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d ever be able to get married, let alone to a gem such as yourself. 

You’ve given him a softer life; a life full of love and happiness—a complete one-eighty from his time in Colombia—and a house to call a home, albeit you being his home no matter where you two are. You’d also be the one to be able to give him the ultimate gift: fatherhood. 

He sweeps his reeling thoughts to the back of his mind for now, his main focus averting back to you and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name. 

With that thought in mind, he wastes no more time before he gives your pretty, glistening pussy a kiss, delving his tongue into your folds right after. 

You gasp at the sensation, eyebrows pinching together as his muscle works your nerves expertly as he’s done countless times before. He traces the tip of his tongue through your folds, up to your clit and flicks it a few times before moving back down to your entrance. He prods the muscle inside and dutifully fucks you with his tongue, the pace delicious as his nose bumps your clit repeatedly in the process. 

You grip onto his hair, hips bucking into his face in tandem with the stroke of his tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out his name repeatedly, and he feels prideful that he’s the only one that can make you feel this good. 

Javi’s mouth separates from your dripping cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with the taste he loves oh so much. 

“Taste like a dream, muñequita.” [doll] He breathes, sliding his hand down to grip your thigh as the other toys with the slick on your pussy. He kisses your thigh again and he looks up at you trying to catch your breath. Your head already feels fuzzy at the immense pleasure your husband’s tongue brings you, and to top it off, he slides his middle and ring finger into you. 

He keeps his eyes on your face and watches as you unravel, pumping his fingers in and out of you. He makes sure to curl his fingers to hit the very specific spot he knows you like, and when he does, you lose all resolve. You crumble under his touch as your arousal seeps out of you and down his fingers, coating his wedding band in your juices as they flow down to his wrist. 

“So fucking pretty, baby. You like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asks, and you nod without hesitation. 

“Words, corazón.” [heart] 

“Fuck–fuck, yes, Javi, oh, god-” You cry, and he squeezes your thigh before diving back down to lap up your pussy once more. The combination of his tongue and fingers is absolutely lethal—you know you aren’t going to last much longer. 

Javier is the matchbox to your match, dragging, dragging, dragging you along. The coil in your core is wound up so tight that within seconds, you break and light aflame. 

You cry out his name, the sound of your own desperate plea reverberating off of the four walls of the villa’s bedroom eagerly. 

You feel like you’re gushing everywhere—his fingers, his mouth, the bedsheets—and it’s pure ecstasy when he blows out the flame, your body the smoke as you dissipate into the luxury of a devastatingly euphoric bliss. 

Javi drags his lips up your thigh, to your torso, all the way up to your jaw before capturing your lips in a searing kiss as you both share the taste of you on his tongue. 

He hums into the kiss and separates from you, bringing his slick-coated fingers to your mouth. You huff a laugh as you eagerly lick the arousal off of his wedding ring and up his digit, popping both of them into your mouth and suck them until they’re clean. 

Javi’s cock is impossibly hard now, but he knows how badly you want to explore the beautiful city. So, he pushes his urges down for now, though you’d likely gladly take his cock into that pretty mouth of yours and suck him dry. 

He groans as he gets up from the bed, giving you another chaste kiss before he trudges to the bathroom to retrieve a towel to clean you up. Your eyes follow him as you lay on your side, head propped up by your hand. You study his figure unashamedly, admiring your husband and his bare form in all of its glory. Long legs, toned arms, tan skin, and of course, that insanely cute ass of his—and he’s all yours. Every inch of his beautiful body, face, and mind is yours. 

He walks out of the bathroom with a towel in hand, and you can’t help but admire his impressive length. He teasingly throws the towel at you and you catch it, and before you can protest, his body is hovering over yours. 

“Someone can’t keep their eyes to themselves, hm?” He quirks a brow at you. 

“Well excuse me for admiring my husband and how sexy he is.” You retort, and he can’t help the guttural laugh that escapes his belly. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” His tone is playful, snatching the towel from you as he cleans you up. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows as you give him a stern look, and he meets your gaze with a boyish grin. 

“You’re the one who married me. That’s on you.” You say, and he grabs your shoulders after tossing the towel onto the floor before giving you a light shake. 

“And it’s been the best decision of my life, muchas gracias.” [thank you very much]

You roll your eyes before leaning up and giving him a kiss, tapping his thigh as you pull apart. 

“Up and at ‘em, baby. Italy is waiting for us.” 

-

You watched Javi as he bought some fresh fruit from a vendor at the street market, patrons bustling on the side as they enjoyed the beautiful weather and scenery before them. The water was a brilliant hue of blue, tying in the bright colors and coastal landscaping Positano had to offer. 

Javi holds out his arm for you after he purchases the fruit, and you gladly cling onto his bicep as you make your way down the street. You stop for a moment to look at him and admire his outfit—bright blue shirt that contrasted beautifully against his tan skin, and some white pants paired with brown loafers.

 He gave you a face when you originally suggested the shoes to him because it simply wasn’t something he’d ever wear, but they were insanely comfortable and undoubtedly great for walking, deeming you right once more. 

“Mi esposa always knows what’s best,” [my wife] He’d said. 

Javi peels an orange for you both to share, splitting it in half and hand feeding you the slices. You bite the tip of his finger playfully, and he can’t help but admire the buttery sweet sound of the laugh that emanates you. 

You hum at the citrus taste of the orange, closing your eyes in delight at how fresh it is. 

“That’s delicious.” You say aloud, and Javi looks at you while sliding his aviators down the bridge of his nose. 

“It is, but nothing compares to the taste of you.”

Your face heats up at his words, hiding it in the crook of his neck for a second while letting out a mumbled ‘behave’ from you. 

He’s smug when you pull your face back from the warmth of his body, and you lightly swat his chest in mock-chastise. 

“You hungry, mamí?” He pulls a food guide of local restaurants out from his back pocket, and you nod eagerly. 

“For more than just food.” You murmur, slotting your arms onto his broad shoulders, letting one hand dangle and the other play with the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands instinctively grab onto your waist and he pulls your body flush to his. 

“Now who needs to behave, hm?” 

“Still you.” You beam.

“Smartass.” He retorts with a chuckle. 

“Maybe. But you love me.”

“That I do, bebita,” [baby girl] He leans in for a kiss before handing you the food guide, and you briefly scan the options. 

 “How about some pizza?” 

-

The restaurant reminds you of your first date with Javier. You remember how much he tried to impress you, and even then, you knew he was someone special. To end up here with him in Italy eating the most delicious pizza and drinking the crispest glass of wine four years later seems like a total fever dream. 

Javi raises his glass up to you, giving you his infamous puppy dog eyes and the softest smile you think you’ve ever seen on him. “Cheers to you, amor de me vida,” [love of my life] “You make me the happiest man alive. You’ve given me everything I could wish for and then some, and your beautiful heart and soul never ceases to amaze me.” 

Tears prick your eyes as you raise your glass to clink against his, sipping the Prosecco in your glass. You reach for his left hand across the table, bringing his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them and his wedding band repeatedly. 

“I love you, Javier Peña. Thank you for giving me a life well beyond my wildest dreams. I’d do anything for you. It’s me and you against the world, baby.” 

“I’ll never know how a bastard like me got so goddamn lucky. You’re a godsend, corazón,” [heart] “What if we had an addition to our world?” He asks, voice almost shy as he tries to gauge your reaction. 

“What do you mean, mi amor?” [my love]

”How do you feel about starting a family? With me?” 

He’s hopeful with the way he stares at you, squeezing your hand as he awaits your answer. 

“Is that something you want, baby? I know a while back you said you weren’t too sure.” 

You’d love to have a family with Javier. The thing was, he wasn’t too sure of that awhile back when things really got serious between you two. You were a little crushed by the prospect of not having kids with the love of your life, but you’d learn to make do. It was never a dealbreaker for you specifically, but you’ve always felt like you were meant to be a mom. 

“I’m sure now. I love the sound of having a little one of us running around. We don’t need to rush into it, though. I just—I want this with you, and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Well, besides asking you to be mine para siempre.” [forever]

You try to not let your emotions overwhelm you in the moment. The man sitting in front of you has you in pure awe, with the way a softness has wrapped itself around his heart, showing him that this side of life is full of warmth and love. He’s gradually learned to accept it, unlearning all of the harsh stoicism that seized his being in the past. 

“You’d be the best daddy, Javier Peña. No doubt in my mind.” 

His face gleams with joy as he brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing each knuckle individually. 

“And you’d be the best mommy, Mrs. Peña.” 

Your heart flutters at the sound of your new last name. You still genuinely cannot believe you’re married to this man. 

“Chucho is probably going to ask when we’re going to give him grandbabies.” 

Javier can’t help but laugh, knowing full well his father would undoubtedly ask that question as soon as you two get back to Texas. 

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you. “We should start practicing now then, mamí. Wouldn’t wanna keep him or the rest of the family waiting.” 

-

A sheen of sweat coats your brow and chest as you arrive back to your villa with Javi. The walk itself wasn’t far but the warm weather was starting to get to you. And yet, as soon as you walked through the doors of the bedroom, he was on you. 

He was kissing your pulse point while his hands roamed over your body with fervor, skimming over the cotton material of the sundress you were wearing. You giggle as his mustache tickles your neck, playfully nudging him.

“Javi, baby, I’m all sticky and sweaty. Let me take a shower first.”

He hums at your words, continuing the assault of his lips down your jugular before nibbling on your hot skin. His grip on your waist tightens before he leads you backwards into the bathroom, hands moving down to your ass before giving it a playful slap. He spins you around so you’re both facing the huge mirror above the double vanity, and his hands settle onto your stomach. 

His eyes travel down to where his hands are as he starts to rub his thumbs back and forth. The look of pure love in his eyes was enough to tell you how badly he really wants to be a father. You reach an arm back to cradle the side of his face, craning your neck to the side to give his cheek a kiss. 

“Can you just imagine growing a life that’s half you and half me in here? Nuestro hijo o hija. You’d be glowing even more than you do now, mi amor.” [our son or daughter ; my love]

Your gaze snaps back up to his face, his usual stoic brow softened at the idea of you carrying his child. You didn’t think you could fall in love with this man even more, but picturing him taking your newborn baby out of the carseat after coming home from the hospital and seeing their tiny body resting against his chest in comfort, against someone so loving and so familiar, gives you an indescribable amount of butterflies. 

His eyes meet yours in the mirror once more, and you can’t help but give him a soft smile. Both of you are well aware that no words can ever come close to describing the emotions that flow through your minds and hearts, but somehow still connect perfectly like a puzzle piece.

It’s sacred, your love with Javi, and it’s something you’ll both pour into your future child endlessly. 

Javi’s lips find your neck once more, fingertips skating over the sticky flesh of your arms before settling on the straps of your dress. His lips move to your shoulder as he slips one strap off, then the other, and tugs down gently so the fabric falls and pools at your feet. 

You’re bare on top, and Javi takes advantage of the beautiful sight and kneads your breasts with his hands. You can’t help the way your head lolls back onto his shoulder, biting your lip as he tweaks both nipples simultaneously. 

“My beautiful wife.” He whispers, trailing a hand down your torso and over the fabric of your panties, teasingly rubbing you through the thin material. A gasp evades you as the familiar low ache bubbles in your core once again. 

“Javi,” You gasp, hand flying up to steady yourself as you grab the side of his neck. 

“Fuck, I love the way you say my name.”

Your ass presses against his front, and you feel his cock harden in his pants. You turn around to face him and he grabs your hips instinctively before pulling you forward so you’re flush to his body. He leans in to kiss you ferociously, hands sliding down to grab your ass as you toss your arms over his shoulders. 

You stay like that for a minute just enjoying the simplicity in the art of kissing your husband before reaching down to unbutton his shirt. You slide the material off of his shoulders before moving down to his pants, palming his cock teasingly. He groans into your mouth and kisses you like a starved man, backing you toward the shower. You slide his jeans off of his hips once he’s stagnant and he steps out of them, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. 

Before you two can continue your escapades, he gives your forehead a kiss before turning on the shower to a temperature comfortable for you both. You slide your panties off and he mirrors your actions, sliding his boxers off before you both step inside. 

The lukewarm water cools your skin briefly before Javi steps under the stream, face up toward the water. You watch as the droplets stream down his face, to his neck and shoulders, down his torso and down down down into the dark, wiry hairs that sit below his navel and above his delicious length. 

Your mouth is practically salivating at the sight before you, and you need to have a taste of your husband. 

Your hands are gentle on his torso before they drag down, your body lowering with them until you’re on your knees. Javi looks down at you with his lips parted and a wild look in his eye. 

You lick your lips and smirk at him before pushing on his thighs, backing him up so he sits down onto the bench in the shower. You scoot forward on your knees, admiring your man from below as his thighs spread wide and his hard cock is already furious and leaking pre-come, slathering itself onto his torso. 

Your nails scratch his thighs lightly before you lean down to kiss them each once, looking back up at him before taking his cock into your hand. You pump his silky flesh a few times before swiping your thumb over his slit, spreading his arousal over the head of his cock before lowering your mouth. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the taste, absolutely entranced by this man and his cock that you love oh so much. 

“My wife is so pretty with my cock in her mouth.” He says, stroking the side of your face with his thumb. 

You separate from him as you sit back on your heels, pumping his length as you quirk a brow. “I think I look prettier when your cock is in me, papí.” 

He groans and squeezes his eyes shut, thumping his head against the shower wall. “Got a dirty fucking mouth, bebita. Christ.” [baby girl]

“Just wait to see what it’ll do to your cock.” You can’t help but giggle at the way your words were easily affecting him, but you decide to cease your teasing. 

You slowly take him into your mouth, gagging as you reach the hilt. You swallow around him as best as you can manage before bringing your mouth up once more, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking him all the way into your mouth again. 

He’s heavy and warm against your tongue, twitching with every bob of your head as you set a steady rhythm. You squeeze your lips around him and he cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements up and down his cock in haste. 

“Your mouth feels so– fuck– fucking good, corazón.” [heart] 

He struggles to vocalize a coherent thought, babbling on about how good you make him feel and how much he loves you. 

The broken praises only spur you on further as you begin to deepthroat him with every pass, tears pricking your waterline as you control your gag reflex. He’s nearly bucking his hips up into you at this point, fucking your mouth at a pace that drives him insane. 

“Shit– yeah, baby, just like that. Fuck you’re so perfect, I’m gonna fucking come—”

You hum around him and squeeze your lips even tighter, gripping his thighs as he tenses up. His spend shoots onto your tongue and he can’t help the loud groan that rumbles through his chest, the feeling of your mouth so heavenly around his cock. You swallow everything he gives you, enjoying the view of your husband’s post-orgasm glow. 

The late afternoon sun seeps into the bathroom and illuminates him in such a way that even the Greek Gods have nothing against. He looks picturesque like this; mouth parted and panting—a wild and untamable rasp, eyes shut as he comes down from the orgasm he’s been pining after all day long. His wet curls stick to his forehead in disarray, but it suits him. 

His eyes slowly peel open and peer down at you, and you know better than to give him a smug smile. Instead, you lean down and kiss his inner thigh a few times without breaking his heady gaze. 

“C’mere.” He murmurs, pulling you up by your elbows. You’re standing now, and he leans forward to kiss your stomach a few times before he pats his thighs. You straddle his hips, hands landing on his chest as you trace small patterns. 

His hand slides down and in between your thighs where it’s slick with your arousal. You were so lost in pleasing your husband that you didn’t notice the incessant need growing stronger by the minute. It wasn’t a low, bubbling thing anymore—it was a full-fledged monstress clawing her way to the surface, begging to be tamed. 

The carnal desire for Javi couldn’t be held off anymore. You leaned in to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as your hips rock against nothing in particular. Javi is already half-hard again, and ever the gentleman that he is, he angles you down to where your dripping core is gliding against his warm, thick length. 

A strangled moan leaves your lips as you toss your head back, and Javi leans forward to nose at your jaw before peppering your neck in kisses. He nibbles on the junction between your neck and shoulder, rocking his hips up onto you simultaneously. 

You whine his name as you loll your head forward, eyes blinking open and gaze locking with his. 

You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to say your next words—maybe it’s the look in his eye, maybe it’s a mixture of desperation and desire, maybe it’s just pure, honest truth. Hell, maybe it was all of the above. 

“I want to make you a daddy, Javi.” Your voice is sultry and sickeningly sweet, dripping like honey. 

And from that point, he was determined. Determined to make you the mother of his child, determined to start a family with you and grow it to both your heart's content, and determined to love and cherish you and your future child, or children—always—and Javier Peña was a man of his word. 

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you forward so you both are chest to chest, and you’re reeling over the look he’s giving you. He notches his tip at your entrance, fully hard once again with the promising tone behind your words. 

“Say it again.” He says.

“I want to make you,” You pause, moving your lips down to slot between his, pulling back just enough to whisper the rest of your sentence. “A daddy.” You sink down slowly onto him, and you kiss him again as you slowly adjust yourself to him. 

You both moan into each other, pulling apart as he fully sheathes himself into you. You’re so full like this, content in every way possible at the feeling of your husband’s cock stretching you out so deliciously. You rock your hips slightly as a test, moaning at the sensation that surges through you. 

You do it again, this time with more intent, and slowly set a rhythm with your hips. The feeling of his cock is otherworldly. A greedy, selfish part of you thinks that you’ll never be able to get enough of him or the feeling of this—being connected as so. 

You fist a hand into his thick wet locks as the other grabs onto his shoulder, ensuring you can keep your balance as you rock your hips back and forth. He captures your mouth in a blazing kiss, groping your ass before slapping it once as he picks up the pace for you. 

You’re panting into each other’s mouths as he increases the pace, now pounding his hips up into you. You cry out his name as your fingernails claw their way down his back and he hisses in pleasure, cradling the back of your head. 

Your mind is fuzzy and your lungs are on fire from kissing him desperately, and the white hot feeling in your core is blazing. 

“I–I love you, Javi– oh, god, I fucking love you. I love you and I want you to be the father of my child and I—” You’re babbling so much that you don’t even have a clue as to what it is that you’re really trying to say, but Javi gets the message, you think. 

He kisses your jaw as you try and match the movement of your hips to each thrust up into you, but it’s genuinely no use. Your body wants to succumb to Javier and his strong body and delicious cock and beautiful face and his big, loving heart—so you let it. You fall limp in his hold, leaning onto him as your orgasm surges through you unexpectedly. 

He can feel you pulsating around him and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. 

“Gonna make you a mama. Gonna be so good to our baby, the best mama ever.” He’s losing all self control, and you cradle his head as you ride out your prolonged orgasm. 

“Please, Javi.” You beg, and that’s enough for him to completely come undone. His hips still as he comes in you, a string of ‘I love you’s’ spilling from his mouth. You’re both breathless and completely dazed, immersed in post-coital bliss. The sound of the shower water hitting the tile floor is a relaxing constant as you both try to control your breathing. 

You sit like this for a while; you're perched in his lap as he leans against the wall, face tucked into the crook of his neck. 

You smatter kisses along his pulse point as a silent plea of love. You’re both pruny and fucked-out, but being here with each other like this is truly a dream in itself. 

The prospect of his dream woman giving him a child has him reeling, so perhaps leaving the room this week is an empty promise that flew out of the door the minute you told him you’d make him a daddy. 

Even if nothing happens right away for the two of you, that’s okay, too. You’d get to relish in the unbelievable life you already share with him a bit longer, built from the ground up by you and a man who loves you unconditionally. A man that would individually pick out the stars from the brilliant night sky for you. A man that still cannot fathom that he gets to share this life with you. 

And if that’s the case, you really wouldn’t mind at all. 

tags: @punkshort @endlessthxxghts @javierpena-inatacvest @ovaryacted @northernbluess @clawdee @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (since all of you were excited about me posting this. ily)

divider by @saradika-graphics

[erika-xero]

Thoughts on ai and Art

What has Ai really changed for me is the perception of my own art. Years back, I was extremely concerned of my work being imperfect: everything had to look "right", the anatomy had to be flawless, the lines - clean and refined. The pipe-line had to be flawless too: minimal amount of layers, one - for lines, one - for colors, and a few for lighting/shading.

Meanwhile I was yearning for chaos and the standard pipe-line felt too strict, too limiting. I finished the drawing and cried over the imperfections, but I could not let myself create a new layer and just paint it all over as I wanted to - that would "mess up my perfect psd". This was even harder because I started as a traditional artist and traditional art is basically the same as drawing on one layer or stacking the layers on top of each other whenever you wish to change anything. I was so obsessed with the anatomy/perspective looking right that my works started looking boring and stiff. If I was not sure that I would be able to draw a certain body part at a certain angle ANATOMICALLY PERFECT - I just refused to draw it at all. Drawing back then was HARD. I forced too much limitations upon myself, I was so scared of making any mistakes and thus did everything I could to avoid the risk to fail. It felts like an entire world would see me failing and everyone - literally everyone - will disapprove. And don't get me wrong - the art community in my country has always been astonishingly toxic. We had, like, a group of 20 THOUSANDS individuals hunting down children online and bullying them into oblivion for drawing anime and furry characters in their school textbooks. And pretty much everyone except a small group of people (which I was a part of) thought that it's absolutely fine and this is how the things should be. Even the industry professionals were absolutely sure that young artists have to suffer and be ashamed of everything they do unless it is absolutely flawless at an any aspect. I was ashamed of everything I did back then. I was ashamed of drawing and posting sketches because I felt like they are not good enough to be shown to anyone. And then the Ai-boom started. And I had mixed feelings because I was not THAT scared, but I was somewhat disappointed of people? General public praised the generated slop ignoring the mistakes far worse than what real artists got bullied for for DECADES. The synthetic artworks are shiny. They are overrendered. They are liveless, boring, they lack fundamentals and yet somehow people viewed them as some kind of a miracle. I decided to learn how does those little machines generated their slop out of morbid curiosity, just to make sure that I got it right and it is spitting out cadavers created from mutilated, dismembered works of real artists. Used by people who did not care enough to pick up a bloody pencils. And I thought: why would I care enough to look at something that no one bothered to create? And then I started seeing everything I do completely different. I suddenly stopped caring of being perfect. Every piece I have ever done, every work I was crying over for it being ugly, every messy sketch and unfinished doodle suddenly started to matter a lot. Not that I stopped caring of doing my best, no. I stopped wishing to disown my own mistakes. They are my own. I cared enough to try and fail and to try again, and fail so badly that I wanted to cry, scream and throw up. And I repeated the cycle for long enough that I started to enjoy my silly doodles and started loving every tiny imperfection because this is what made my art so human. I still suck at drawing hands and feet. My line-art is messy and I started doing it right on top of my colored sketch. My pipe-line is in chaos and my PSDs look like a total mess of three hundreds of layers. I draw sketches with huge-ass round brush only adding the details that really matters. My works are better than they could ever be because they feel alive and chaotic as we human had always been. This is a love letter to my art and write it while flipping off my middle finger to the cadavers generated by the machine. I will not be stopped by glorified autocomplete and I refuse to be outdone by people who confuse googling an image with the act of creation.

My worst drawing is better than any of the generative imagery out there, because I cared drawing it.

[flymetosnarryland]

My Snarry WIPs' list.

I would like to share something. My Snarry WIPs' list, yup. Why? I always felt weird writing about myself and stuff I do, but I'm processing changes and thought I can share not only art, lol.

How many project are you working on? I'll dive into couple of mine:

Date with a Star - a Post-War romantic comedy. Harry is in love with Severus, Severus secretly loves Harry. Both are too scared to say what they feel to not lose their friendship. A friend in need asks Harry for help and this is where the wild ride with dumb dating TV-show starts. Especially because Harry don't know that the same friend-in-need blackmailed Severus to get him into the same show too. This is actually a second Snarry fic I ever started to write, inspired by dating TV-show from 1992. I remember that when the idea for this one hit me, I was laughing for a good hour (that TV-show was absolutely ridiculous). And I still feel a pinch of positive embarrassment when think about what's going on there. In fact this story made me want to learn how to translate my wiritngs into English. It's half written and translated too. I really have to finish second part.

Infraction - my first monster fic. My baby. Crime (serial killer), slow burn, Muggle AU featuring Marauders and Death Eaters, political sheananigans and Severus' old flame. I have entire story written out from beginning to the end. What's more... with an ending that allows me to dive into second book (I'm excited lika a child) including the initial idea for it, ahh. Every time I think about Infraction, I feel butterflies in my stomach and a tear comes to my eye, damn. However, the entire project requires a huge amount of work. And a few modifications that I finally have to do to complete the first stage. It's not simple, though. I regret a bit that I released the cover, prologue and first chapter. I was prematurely carried away by the joy of creation, but that's okay. Going to fix it all in time.

In the Moonlight - working title. Something I planned to write for last year's Snarry AUctoberfest, but the beast got bigger, lol. Crime (kidnapping), Muggle AU - my great weakness and, most importantly, inspired by the movie Bodyguard (the one with Whitney Huston). Much like Infraction, this fic is fully planned and scripted. I can't believe I managed to do it. I wrote 1/4 of the whole thing and even have the lyrics of original song that Harry dedicates to Severus, although I don't know anything about music at all (an elephant stepped on my ear).

In between - a drawing series. Harry and Severus in a cute/fluff version. Post-War and happy life, because that's what they deserve!

First time - Drama/Romance, Muggle AU (gosh, yeah, again!). This is a project I want to do 50/50 as a fic/comic. A few works and dirty sketches have already landed here. I have a little dream of writing something that includes e-mails/text messages. In general, a romance that started online. Aren't Harry and Severus purfect for this? (Plus doing art in colour for this project was a test I wanted to start before 3B.)

3B - a Vampire fic, yessss. Can you believe that once I said, I'll never ever write or do anything connected to vampires? Hehe, now I'm in the middle of it, fully commited and over the moon. A bit dark/angsty story with a bonus: illustrations. Crime (more like, cri-me a river, lol; I mean, again? Yup xD), Post-War, a few intrigues, even a SnarryWedding o_0 gosh. That is another thing I said: "No, that's not going to happen." I guess, I fell on my head since now I do everything I promised to myself not to. But it's fun. And bloody, mhaha. I also created my own Vampire Villains and I kinda fell in love with them. Going to sneak into this fic a bit of blood magic mechanics that I created for my fantasy book, too. The picture at the top is one version of the cover sketches ɷ◡ɷ

Adrenaline - working title. Post-War/Drama/Romance and slow burn, a bit of Hogwarts, a bit of Quidditch and for a change Severus will have to show that he wants something more. I mean, I always writing/thinking about Harry chasing Severus. So here the dynamic will change a little. Can't wait for it! The idea for this one was accidentaly born last week and I can't stop it anymore. The inspiration comes from the cover art for Witch Weekly that I did, lol. I had no idea that at the stage of brainstorming, it would turn into another monster. It supposed to be a short story, but, apparently, I'm not good at short stories and it's time to come to terms with it xD I won't cry either because I like Harry and Severus pairing up in different ways/AU's, hehe. And most importantly - creating all these things, even if they don't fully see the world outside my drawer, still gives me great joy!

[raayllum]

a/n: sometimes i don't realize how much my autism has affected my life / relationships and then it slams into me. a ficlet

It's been an hour since the spat at negotiations, for lack of a better term—Opeli still winces when she thinks of the sharpness in the young prince's voice, straightening out his Evenere green robes with a finicky flourish—and Ezran had requested to be alone for the break.

Opeli had obliged him, not pleased he'd wanted distance from even Soren and Corvus when they had visiting nobles and servants over, but so long as they stood guard at wherever he'd gone, she couldn't really find it in her to object. Being king could be overwhelming even if you weren't eleven years old.

It's nearing the time negotiations will re-commence, though, and... she can't find him.

He's not in the kitchens, or one of the smaller dining halls he likes to use with Soren and Corvus. He's not with Callum, who went to the courtyard to sketch, a worried crease in his brow (he'd checked on his brother—you alright, Ez?—talked down the prince, but Ez had shooed him off).

Opeli is beginning to despair that maybe he's run off into one of the remaining secret passageways, or even gotten stuck somewhere, when she spots Soren and Corvus standing in front of the library doors. Corvus seems as troubled as Callum, Soren catching her eye and arm when she moves to go inside.

"I think he's having a rough time," Soren says softly. "You might wanna..."

"I don't know if we can delay the next meeting any further," Opeli says apologetically. He releases her, nodding but unhappy about it, and she pushes open the door.

It takes a few moments, peering through the tall aisles of shelves and one or two alcoves, but eventually she finds the young boy king in one of the armchairs tucked away in a corner, a book open in his lap. And in truth, Opeli hears him before she sees him, because Ezran is... crying.

Big fat tears rolling down his cheeks in ways she hasn't seen since they completed King Harrow's memorial statue based off Prince Callum's sketches, or since those early, overwhelming weeks of being king once the Moonshadow elf had left... Bait's not in his lap either, pawing at his thigh but otherwise ignored, which isn't like Ezran either; so much so, Opeli stops right in her tracks.

"I'm, er—" She starts, then stops. He's clearly not okay so there's no point in asking. She eases onto her knees instead beside his armchair, unsure of how to proceed until she knows what's distressing him. It's not far from the anniversary of the attack, so maybe...? "I'm afraid the meeting is going to resume, soon, King Ezran."

He sniffles, looking briefly at her and then just starting at the floor, his eyes hardening. He doesn't move. He doesn't even wipe away his tears.

She purses her lips. "Ezran?"

Finally he looks at her, his face contorting—livid like she's never seen. "I don't know how to do this, Opeli."

"King Ezr—"

"Prince Erik asked for more information, so I gave it, and then he snapped at me and—I just don't understand!" Ezran cries, tiny fingers curling into fists. His eyes go wide with frustration, searching for something he can't find. "I don't get it. We've always had these trade deals and they worked fine, and this new one is the exact same, but now the policy's a problem? And when I pointed out it's just like the old ones, he said it just feels like Evenere needs something different even though those things are there for a reason—and no one cares about the reason but me!"

Opeli reaches for his arm. "Ezran—"

He stands, pacing. "And then when I explain those reasons, it's like... I knew as a kid the other kids didn't like me because I talked too much, and I was boring about wanting to talk about bugs or animals, or—so I just... I tried so hard to use less words and always say what I mean, but people still didn't get it, or like it." He pressed his palms to his eyes, tears leaking out underneath. "And it's the same damn thing in court, I don't—at the last Summit, Prince Erik didn't mind how much I talked because we were agreeing on policy, but now that we disagree I-I can't, for some reason? I'm just trying to explain, but he thinks I'm being condescending, but I don't think I'm smarter than him, I don't, I try so hard to say things right and I just don't know how —"

"Ezran." She takes him by the shoulders and he looks up at her, red-eyed with a runny nose. She takes a deep breath for her own measure, reaching up to wipe away some of his tears. "The prince, as many do, have an ego. You are doing your—"

"Well yeah, some people are jerks like him. But most people aren't, and I still can't... Why can't people just know you value them? Why do I have to remember to spell it out every time? Why do I have to read their mind and know what they need without them telling me? If I'm listening it's because I think we can reach common ground... Because the respect is already there. And I try so hard to explain so we can just reach common ground, but people just—they don't see that. And I don't know how to make them see that. I came up here to read hoping I'd find something so I can understand where His Highness is coming from, but it still doesn't make sense to me, and... I'm so tired, Opeli."

Gods, she wishes she had a better answer for him. She gives his shoulders a tiny squeeze, and then reaches up and takes off his crown. "Go to the gardens for the rest of the day," she says. "With your crownguard, or your brother, or both. Down by the town. I'll tell the prince and his delegates you're not feeling well."

Ezran's eyes shine as she presses the crown into his hands. "But—"

"No buts. It's like you said: you're tired. You deserve rest." Opeli offers up a tiny smile. "Go on."

Ezran steps away, bottom lip trembling, and then throws his arms tightly around her in the middle. They've never hugged before, she thinks, but she hugs him back now, rubbing his shoulders gently.

"Thank you, Opeli," he mumbles, some of the last tears fading. "'M sorry I'm so..."

She shushes him quietly. "You're a very special boy, my king. Not everyone is going to understand that. And I know it hurts, but not everyone needs to. Just keep... being yourself. We all love you here. You know that, don't you?"

He pulls back slowly, not smiling, but not looking nearly as worn down as before. He tucks his crown under one arm, and picks up Bait with the other. He has one last big sniffle. "Yes. I do."

[dmercer91]

it doesn’t click why she’s being nice for luca until he goes with her on one day and he realizes which dorm he’s in

it’s her own way of coping without adam, because he’ll if she’d admit to missing him.

and then when luca finds her in there he’s like “…wanna call mo?”

i love!!!! black cat! readers love for adam

so much

like so much

luca heard nick and josh talking one day and they invited another player to their dorm, mentioning the room number and he was like OH? this explains things

same place, new people | opposites attract au, lf63

last year, you’d go to adam and lucas dorm every day after class. you’d snuggle into lucas bed and wait for him to come home for a movie, or you’d draw.

now that luca was living with you in your apartment, you had a new routine this year- every day after class you’d coop up in nick and josh’s dorm, sat in nicks corner of the room and you’d work on some personal drawings or something that needed done for class.

today was no different. the boys usually took longer to get here than you did, since they took their time walking, while you always had an unearthly pace.

so, you got there first and made yourself comfortable before the chaos started.

sat near the heater between the wall and nicks bed, your back against the wall and your legs cried crossed as leverage for your book.

you flipped the hood of lucas sweater over your head and pulled out your sketch book, flipping to your most recent drawing of cudo- the cat from the convenience store you worked at.

you’d needed to add some finishing touches, and you knew you’d be able to get it done while the boys screamed at nhl 23.

the door cracked open and you stayed concentrated on your paper, but furrowed your eyebrows when you saw lucas shoes in your peripherals.

your head shot up, nick and josh already getting out the game for the three of them to play.

“hi, pretty. s’ that cudo?” luca sat next to you, looking down at you.

you looked away from him, at your paper, tapping the back of your pencil on your book anxiously. you nodded, trying to read wether or not luca knew where he was and why you’d been here.

“i’m trying to make his fluffies… fluffy,” you murmured, going back to your drawing and hoping he’d go to the boys and grab a controller.

“looks good, pretty. d’ you wanna call ads later and show him?” you looked over at him, panic clearly set in your eyes

you closed your book and slid it off your lap, out of the way.

he smiled softly, kissing your temple. “um. if you want,” you said, clearing your throat subtly.

“he misses you, you know?” your lips parted slightly and you picked at your fingers, shrugging.

“really?” luca smiled, nodding. he pulled you closer to him, nearly sprawling you in his lap, and you hugged him tight, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while his squeezed your waist.

“yeah. we’ll call him later, okay? finish up fluffing your fluffies. know you concentrate better here,” you grinned and gave him a small peck on the lips, earning a fake gag from nick.

“dude that’s like my sister. hands off,” he glared, grinning immediately after the look served its comedic effect

“she was my girlfriend before she was your sister, moldy. get an eye mask or something,” luca joked, getting up and grabbing a controller

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

So, I do not believe the Comic Goldenheart boys would have children. First of all, I don't personally headcanon either of them to be able to give birth to or carry children, and second, within the canon of the Comicverse, them reproducing would be a horrendous fucking idea.

However, I am not immune to the desire to create fankids. So. Allow me to introduce my their imaginary son from an AU where them having a baby wouldn't be the World's Worst Decision, Gregor Blackheart.

The colors came out kinda ugly(er) than they looked in Krita and please ignore the skin swatches I just fucking forgot to erase lmao. But yeah, this is a quick sketch of him 💕 headcanons below the cut if anyone is interested

He was named "Gregor" because when Nimona transformed into a little boy and called herself by the same name, it was the first time Ballister ever considered one day being a father, so they named their little guy for that moment

Nimona entered his/the Blackheart's lives when he was about three years old. Ambrosius was very nervous of her at first, especially with his most precious baby, but he quickly saw how good she was with him and that they loved playing together (and she could protect and keep up with him easily)

Ambrosius regards him as literally the most perfect thing to have ever come from him and the only good thing he ever played a part in, and was definitely at least a bit overbearing as a dad

When he was a baby/firstborn he was bald (specifically had that Old Man hairstyle that babies have where they only have fuzz on the sides of their head) and Ambrosius would always be like "Aww he looks just like his papa (Ballister)" and before Ballister could be like "that's sweet" he'd go "he got a big ol' bald head. Forehead for days." This would ruin it but it was also cute

He struggles with regulating his emotions like his dad and is highly intelligent and analytical like his papa. This caused mental health issues especially in his pre/teen years but his parents had thankfully done enough healing that they could support him and so he had a better outcome than they did

Both Ballister and Ambrosius went from "we read all the books and attended all the classes so we know EXACTLY what we're doing" to being too scared to hold him immediately once he was born

As a little kid/baby, Ballister was better at calming him down when he cried/got sad, scared, or hurt, while Ambrosius was better when he got angry, tantrums, or an attitude (Him crying would subconsciously trigger and upset Ambrosius, who would be easily overwhelmed, and him acting bratty/like a normal toddler frustrated Ballister who generally just would want to leave the situation)

He sees Nimona as an aunt and liked to play with her the most as a kid. This made Ambrosius extremely fucking jealous, but he got over it when he realized he was Gregor's favorite person to cuddle. Ballister is low-key jealous of both of them, but he is the main one that Gregor info-dumps to about all his special interests so he knows that he loves each of them in his own way

He was 1000 percent an accident. They knew they had no business reproducing given how fucked up their relationship was. I imagine he would come not terribly long after they got back together, too. Keeping him would have been a very hard choice but ultimately neither of them could bear the idea of losing the only biological family they'd ever have.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Slowly but surely replying to older asks. I say it every time but I mean it: thank you for being patient.

One ask about Shroudcest and one ask about Rookvil today!

Anonymous asked:

Imagine imagine imagine.

Cause this is funny to me.

Someone's flirting with Idia, yeah? (or just talking to him, not even flirting) (well, I guess it'd be a one sided conversation....)

And Ortho was off doing whatever and he comes back and he notices-

And he gets all angry and whatnot-

And Ortho's got instant connections to the internet-

And he figures out who the person is and basically destroys their social life.

Like, in the middle of this conversation, this person checks their phone and finds out all their friends have ditched them and their entire online life is up in flames.

Simply because Ortho got a little jealous.

Anon, this is so unbelievably easy to imagine lol Despite Ortho really wanting his precious Idia to have more friends and connections, he is much more jealous than he thought! And much more of a little shit than people think… We really love this kind of scenario for them, to be honest.

Ortho is way too powerful for how emotionally unstable he is! Rogue little yandere robot :( His niisan is his and his only! That poor guy probably just wanted to talk about homework or something trivial like that…

Anonymous asked:

the rook hate be crazy, sorry for the nonsense you’ve been dealing with for doing nothing wrong. anyway rookvil appreciation hours. rook is so observant and reverent that he’s always looking out for his queen and vil is just a bit tsun lol but i love how vulnerable vil is with rook. like the lines implying vil has cried in front of rook before, that they sleep in the same bed, rook knows vil’s family situation, vil commenting on rook’s thighs in beanfest implicitly meaning he spends a lot of time looking at them lol, rook has access to vil’s room and waits for vil… as much as i love savanaclaw rook and mourn his loss everyday, he willingly changed himself to be worthy of being by vil’s side via his own free will; vil did not MAKE him do anything they just talked a lot. my mans is more whipped than heavy cream. idk about you but rook mentions he struggled to feel or express emotions before he knew about theater (specifically neige but let’s ignore that for vil’s sanity lol) so it feels significant that rook obviously feels and emotes so strongly over vil (also something something ortho struggles to feel or express himself before movies and acting so what i’m getting at here is they should spitroast vil at least once lmao.) if it was revealed they’re canonically dating the only part i’d be surprised about is that it got through disney’s censors.

It’s okay, Anon. The whole thing kind of made us appreciate Rook and RookVil more, to be honest lol I sketched them for a couple of days nonstop after that whole thing happened.

It also made you write this ask! It took me some time to reply, but every time I was rereading it I smiled because god this is such a good ship. Everything that you’ve listed is just so… wonderful. All those interactions, all this connection, all those moments that imply their closeness that is on a much deeper level than we get to see. Sometimes when these two talk, it feels like we’re eavesdropping lol they just have this vibe to them, as if every dialogue has some additional context that we don’t quite get.

Vil’s comment about Rook’s thighs and him bulking up though lol poor Epel didn’t know what to make of it and probably didn’t want to think about it…

You’ve made such a good point about Vil being more vulnerable with Rook, and I think this vulnerability is very important. Vil feels like someone who probably doesn’t usually allow people to get very close to him, but once he lowers his guard for someone, that person becomes very special to him. Or I guess it’s the other way around… anyways, he trusts Rook enough to always have him by his side, and he probably vents his frustrations with the industry and anything else that troubles him to Rook the most.

And this trust isn’t one-sided: I feel like Rook trusts Vil a lot too. We know that he has a lot of secrets, and even Vil probably doesn’t know a whole lot about his upbringing and stuff, but he certainly knows more than other people + listens carefully enough to understand implications without prying into it too much. They give each other enough space in general, I guess? I know it sounds funny considering Rook’s whole stalking thing but lol their connection is special. They learn from each other and from what they have together.

It makes sense that one person that Vil trusts so much and loves so much is a weird theater nerd who doesn’t quite understand tact, but is very honest, supportive and genuinely passionate and loving. It makes sense that one person that Rook trusts so much and loves so much is an obsessive perfectionist that takes care of him, enables him and inspires him every day. Both of them are kind of insufferable, but they are the perfect type of “insufferable” to each other lol And yeah, let’s not forget about the power of knowing all the obscure theater/film references the other one makes!

I also absolutely agree that it wouldn’t be surprising at all if it was confirmed that they are dating lol The only surprising thing really would be the fact that Disney allowed it.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

😱The creepiest adventure the Doctor's ever had

Think the Weeping Angels are creepy? The Vashta Nerada? Psh, child's play. This is the story of the Face-Painter.

Imagine being led through the streets of West Hollywood every Thursday afternoon, wrists tied together with bright handkerchiefs to your companions, and not a single face among you. That's the Doctor's life now, along with two others—Jamie and Victoria. They don't have faces, just smooth, pink, egg-like heads. As their handler Rachel describes them: 'They're OK from the neck down... But what can you do with the heads?'

Despite having no eyes, no noses, or mouths, they can see, breathe, and speak—though the words come out muffled, like 'they're chewing' or gagged. It's surreal and disturbing, but no one looks too closely. In this part of West Hollywood, Rachel notes, 'No one looks too hard at no one for long, unless they want trouble.'

Each week, they visit the Face-Painter on Santa Monica Boulevard. 'So what's it gonna be?' he asks, but he doesn't ask them—he asks Rachel, as if they're not even there. Victoria always requests the same face, sketching it out with care. But this time, the Face-Painter plays a cruel trick, painting deep folds into her face like the crumpled paper she drew on. 'She looks like she's been in some real bad accident,' Rachel reflects as Victoria cries without tears.

Jamie, meanwhile, shrugs off the whole thing. When asked who he wants to be, he says he doesn't care. Rachel jokes, 'Make him Brad Pitt,' and the Face-Painter obliges.

And the Doctor? Silent, distant. He doesn't ask for anything, so the Face-Painter goes rogue and paints a giant sunflower on his blank head. The Doctor just sits there, helpless.

The real horror is that they're trapped. Rachel is paid to keep them locked in her basement, like prisoners. 'None of them say much,' she muses, 'but they know I look after them.' They live in silence, with Rachel mocking them as boring when they don't respond, but in reality, they're completely at the mercy of whoever is keeping them. Victoria can barely contain her despair, whispering, 'I can't bear it... these dreadful, shapeless clothes, greasy, sickly food...'

There's something even darker beneath the surface. Jamie wonders if their faces might be stored somewhere, like in the jars Rachel keeps in her apartment. The Doctor, always the optimist, tries to reassure the others, 'We're suffering from some kind of illusion, a spell that's been placed on us somehow.' But even he is unsure. As Jamie rages, 'How can it be? Why are we being kept here, week after week?' There are no answers—just a grim routine, the threat of something worse if they try to escape, and the chilling possibility that their faces—and their lives—are slipping away forever.

(Face Painter from Short Trips: A Universe of Terrors)

Whoniverse Facts for Friday by GIL

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[pshenyasstuff]

Some sketches of my babies and y/n <3

And maybe I'll add a couple of thoughts about this variation.

cooking together

While cooking together, Karaku and Urogi usually do anything, but not cook. Urogi of course tries to help if he is asked about it, but it turns out badly. At least he tries. Karaku just eats and watches the others do something. Aizetsu and Sekido help y/n cook, but it usually ends up with Sekido getting dirty. Aizetsu is fine as long as he is not allowed to cut the onion, because the baby will then cry even more than usual (0((

Zohakuten does not participate in the cooking because he is still too young, but when he grows up he will be happy to help cook <3

Aizetsu

When Aizetsu has a nightmare or is just sad, he comes to you and cuddles with y/n while she cradles him like a baby. In the end they always fall asleep together 🥹

Don't ask me why but I think Aizetsu would watch Maya the Bee or Pororo. Just don't ask.

He probably wouldn't like games that are too violent, so he'd probably play some kind of peaceful and cute games

I don't know about his hobbies, but I think it would be drawing or jigsaw puzzles🤔

Kill me if he doesn't have a lot of soft toys in his room or he's not a fan of Hello Kitty

His mug would look like this:

Urogi

Urogi is definitely the type of child who jumps on his mother from a running start and hugs her tightly, especially when he misses her

He definitely has a little parrot, you can't convince me otherwise. The parrot has a cute name like "Kiwi"<3

I think we can all agree that he is a big fan of birds, so he would watch any bird documentary or bird cartoon

Bro rarely cleans his room unless he is reminded to clean💀

The most active among his brothers, so his hobbies would be related to sports, I guess

He must have had lice at least once in his life😦

His mug would look like this:

Sekido

Sekido doesn't have much affection for y/n at first, but over time he gets used to her and often holds her hand

I think he's the type of kid who watches horror movies at night thinking he's old enough but then bro can't sleep alone so he comes up to y/n saying things like "Ngh, just Karaku keeps me awake with his snoring 😒" and it doesn't matter that they sleep in different rooms

He's not a big fan of hugs, but he doesn't mind hugging occasionally

He is the oldest among the brothers and he loves to lead them. When y/n can't calm them down, Sekido takes on the role of parent.

He mostly gets mad at Karaku and Urogi. "STOP GIVING TROUBLE TO MOM, IDIOTS!"

I think he would be the only one who drinks coffee with y/n in the morning. His mug would look like this. He doesn't really care which mug to drink from as long as no one touches his mug.

Karaku

Fully enjoys kisses on the forehead and cheeks before bed, and he'll be really upset if y/n ever forget to kiss him.

He has such a soothing voice, so if he reads bedtime stories for his younger brothers, then they immediately fall asleep

Karaku watches horror movies with Sekido, but after just a few minutes of the movie, he looks like "😰"

Bro thinks babies are found in cabbage

I think his hobby would also be related to sports, but besides that, he could collect a herbarium

Maybe the type of kid who steals the parent's clothes

His mug would look like this, don't ask me why:

Zohakuten

He doesn't speak much, but for some reason he swears when his older brothers annoy him💀 how does he know these words..

He likes the company of Sekido, Aizetsu or y/n

He always says "mommy y/n" so adorably <3

I think he would be a fan of dragons and dinosaurs. I think he even has a soft toy dragon that he can't sleep without

As I said earlier, he and Sekido sometimes have violent outbursts where he screams and cries at the same time. After such situations, the poor baby asks for hugs on his own.

For some reason he gets jealous when his brothers try to stop him from hugging y/n. (Bro really looks like "😠")

So I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry if there are typos or anything like that.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Disorderly Conduct

Series: Crimes and Misdemeanors

Word Count: 10,000

Warnings: Esther herself is a freaking warning, some more non-consensual stuff... like biting. Graphic imagery and maybe some language.

Summary: (Sequel to Vandal) Kol Mikaelson had insisted he was your friend. He had insisted you could trust him. That boy's lies just keep compounding. || Kol x HOH!reader || Here lies my Masterlist

A/N: This may have to be the last thing I write for a while. I just got my first job - it's full time and I'm having a bit of a hard time adjusting from having all the time in the world to having like two hours. I'm really sorry to those who have made requests. I hope to get around to them eventually.

Story Begins Below

Hunger…

Looking into his eyes, you saw only hunger. Dark, unnatural, insatiable hunger. There was no soul in them. Only a wicked, animalistic craving. 

It wasn't supposed to be like that. He wasn't supposed to be like that.  

You had thought Kol's eyes to be empty pits when first you'd met him, but that had changed the closer the two of you became. His eyes weren't supposed to be dark or empty when they looked at you. Kol's eyes were supposed to be warm, full of life and light, and something that always threatened to make your knees buckle. His eyes were supposed to be like steaming hot chocolate - inviting, comforting, something to warm your stomach and ease your troubled heart. 

Kol wasn't supposed to eye you as though he craved to ravish you and leave your corpse on the street to rot. That boy was supposed to hold you close, watching over you as if he would be content to do so forever.

You remembered how he'd looked at you the night before. Sitting atop your kitchen counter, with Kol between your legs, his hands on your hips, gripping you just right. You remembered how he'd looked at you then. When he'd said your parents couldn't take you away from him.

He'd looked hungry then too, but not like this. His eyes had been so warm and gentle. Those were the eyes of a sweet boy who cared about you.

These were the eyes of a monster.

Infinitely more disturbing was the sense that you'd seen him this way before. This very same image had flashed through your imagination too many times to count. You'd sketched it out - the blackness that consumed his eyes, spreading out through cracks down his porcelain cheeks. With pencil and paper, you had shaded his petal-soft lips and the vicious razor-sharp fangs behind them. You had never seen, yet you had known. 

How could you possibly have known?

Vaguely, as though from far away, you heard yourself scream. 

Tears stung your eyes, blurring your vision, and you watched in horror as the monster bared its teeth - its terrible, flesh-shredding teeth - and reached for you. A helpless sob escaped your throat and you felt your feet stumbling back - numb and useless. The world lurched sideways as your foot slipped off the last step of his front porch. Your ankle rolled from under you, and you cried out as you collapsed onto the gravel driveway. Pain seared white hot in your ankle but you ignored it and scrambled back, heedless of the gravel beneath you as it shredded your palms. 

Anything to get away from that freak.

Then the monster froze in its pursuit. Its pale hand dropped harmlessly to its side and you watched as those deadly canines receded. The ravenous blackness in his eyes faded until soft, milk chocolate stared down at you... and there stood your friend again. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. 

Kol was right there - with messy hair and soft eyes, just as sweet as he was supposed to be. You wanted to run to him, wanted to let him hold you, wanted to bask in the comfort he always provided. He was the one who had believed you. He was the one to reassure you - who had promised you weren't crazy. And all along, lurking under his skin, was a monster itching to tear you apart.

Before a tear could slip down your face, a soft breeze fluttered through your hair and you felt yourself being hauled to your feet. Kol's warm, familiar arms wrapped themselves around your back and you shrieked as he pulled you into his chest.

"No! No, let me go!" You tried to push yourself away but you would have had better luck attempting to escape an iron cage. With a soft sigh, the boy lowered his head, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You couldn't stop shaking. "Please-"

Kol shushed your protests and tears rolled down your cheeks as his perfectly soft lips found your pulse. He kissed you sweetly - gentle and chaste. You whimpered, chest heaving with unsteady breaths, and he held you tighter. Kol kissed you again, a little slower this time, a little less chaste. Your breaths evened out a little, turning to small, quickened puffs of mist in the early morning air. 

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be afraid," Kol murmured into your skin. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"But you're-"

"Not human?" He guessed. Kol smiled against your neck before kissing your pulse again. "No, I'm not."

You couldn't help it. Kol had always had this near-magical effect. He made you feel safe. You relaxed just a fraction and his arms tightened around you.

"You-you don't… You don't wanna hurt me?"

The boy chuckled, a darkly amused rumble you could feel in his chest.

"I don't believe that's what I said." 

You stiffened, but Kol shook his head, rubbing your back soothingly before you could work yourself up to panicking again. He shushed you quietly and left two more kisses against your throat. 

"No need to get so worked up, darling. I said I won't hurt you. It's a conscious choice," He whispered. "I don't intend to change it."

You could take that comfort for the moment. Fisting his shirt, you let yourself melt into his arms - you couldn't escape him anyway. What point was there in fighting?

You felt him tug on the sleeve of your hoodie, drawing the fabric off your shoulder. He skimmed his lips over the exposed skin with all the pressure of an autumn breeze. You pressed yourself closer to him and he returned the favor, humming contentedly. His sweet as caramel butterfly kisses made you want to forget everything you'd seen. Because how could this kind, attentive friend of yours be a killer? 

His hands dropped down to your hips. There was no telling how many people he'd hurt - how many he'd killed. Yet, you let him touch you anyway. You just couldn't seem to run from him - not when you had nowhere to run to. How pathetic was that?

"All this time… All those people?" You hissed, squeezing your eyes shut. The thought turned your stomach. "It was all you?"

Kol inhaled sharply and a tiny, dazed part of your brain was surprised he reacted at all. He shook his head vehemently, fingers digging into your hips - into the bruises he'd left the day before. It hurt.

"No," He promised. "No, that wasn't me. I haven't killed anyone… i-in this town anyway."

So he had killed. Your only friend was a murderer.

You sniffed, shaking your head. The boy groaned.

"Darling, please don't be upset? Listen, you've done nothing wrong-"

"-You're a murderer," You cut him off with a bitter laugh. "Yet, I'm still here. That's wrong."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've been asleep for nearly one hundred years. I swear I haven't killed anyone since I woke up."

"That doesn't mean anything." A choked sob escaped your lips and you fisted his shirt tighter, fingernails digging into your palms. "You were supposed to be my friend!" 

"I don't want to be your friend." He pushed his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply. "I want more from you than that."

"I don't care what you want," You seethed. "All you've ever done is lie!"

"That's not true," He insisted. "I could have let you think you were mad, but I didn't."

"And now what?" You demanded. "You want me to stick around? Trust you?"

The boy hummed, pleased. "That would be ideal, yes."

"This is just some sick game to you, isn't it?" The thought hurt.

"It was," He said, nodding slightly, rubbing his cheek against your hair. "Not anymore though, otherwise, I'd have killed you by now."

You laughed but there was no humor in it. "Oh yeah? And what makes me just so special?" 

"I think I'll leave you to find that out for yourself," The boy said with a smirk. "For now, it suffices me to say that you're interesting, fun, and I like your attitude."

"Tell you what," He said, chuckling. "Give me five days. You can stay here, and I can prove I mean you no harm."

"And we're back to this again - I'm just supposed to trust you? Right off the bat?"

"What? No!" You protested. "I can't just… stay in your house!"

"Why not? My family's loaded," He reasoned, shrugging. "Besides, the way I see it, you really don't have anywhere else to go. Unless you want to check into the loony bin?"

You bit your lip. He had you there. 

"And what happens after five days?" You asked.

"If all goes well, you give me your trust, and I'll give you the best night of your life." 

You didn't have to see his face to hear the smirk in his voice. Despite everything, his cheeky flirting still made you laugh. It was a little hysterical, born from shock, residual fear, and prominent sleep deprivation, but it was there nonetheless. After all, it wasn't much of a choice you had to make. You could either take Kol's offer or check yourself into the loony bin and let a bunch of doctors pump you full of drugs until your best friend became nothing more than a bad dream. 

Both options sounded like a death trap. At least being eaten by a vampire was a cool way to die. 

Reaching up, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. It was Kol's turn to tense this time, as though he couldn't believe your actions could be real. Then the boy's shoulders relaxed and his body curled around you a little further, almost protectively, though that seemed too good to be true. His voice quieted further, morphing into something reverent. 

"I promise you can trust me," He vowed.

Perhaps he was lying. 

But what choice did you have?

"Okay," You breathed. The boy hummed and you could feel him smile. 

Lifting his head, Kol pressed a kiss to your temple and one to your cheek. He hesitated for a moment. You felt his warm, cinnamon breath ghost over your skin. Slowly, his lips settled onto your pulse again and he waited for your reaction. Your breath caught, but you didn't push him away. What surprised you was how tentative he was. Kol opened his mouth and slowly latched onto your sweet spot.

His lips lit your body on fire and you whimpered, knees buckling as he kissed you - slow and filthy and deep. He sucked roughly on your skin but somehow he made it feel sweet, going slow, being patient, easing up when you flinched - it felt like more of a message - more of a promise - than a demand for something. Tugging lightly on your hair, he urged you to tip your head back, and you obliged, granting him greater access. 

"Good girl," He mumbled. His voice sent the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. Kol swept his tongue along your pulse and your insides felt like molten glass. You sighed. A few more seconds and you were sure to fall apart.

Then the enormous double doors behind him opened. Kol broke away from you with a groan, untangling his fingers from your hair. He flicked them in a casual wave to whoever stood behind him.

"G'morning, Mum!"

Your heart stuttered and your face flushed hotter than the sun. You were lucky the top of your head didn't pass his shoulder.

"Kol." The woman's voice was cold and sharp.

"How are we this fine morning?" His tone was nothing but innocent. Meanwhile, his hands dropped down to grab your thighs. In one swift movement, he hiked your legs up around his torso and held you like a little kid. Only then did he turn around. You buried your face in his shoulder with an embarrassed noise you couldn't define. 

What an excellent first impression you were making!

"I certainly hope I didn't just hear this young lady scream," His mother said. She didn't sound very happy with him.

Kol simply shrugged. "Not yet, but the day's still young." 

"What have you been up to?" She demanded. 

"Nothing too nefarious, right love?" He nudged your cheek and you clutched into him tighter. 

"Uhhh…." Words seemed utterly unattainable all of a sudden.

Kol laughed and kissed your cheek. "You'll have to forgive this one," He said. "She's a little shy." His fingers dug into your thighs and you jumped. He thought it was hilarious.

"Can this young woman not speak for herself?" Kol's mother asked, voice hardening even further if that were possible. 

You shook your head in the most imperceptible motion you could. If the rest of his family was anything like he was, then it was probably best to act like a harmless plaything than an intelligent threat. Luckily, Kol seemed to get the message. Two taps against your left thigh followed by a subtle squeeze.

"Oh, she can!" He said - innocent as ever. "But we've only just come to an understanding and I'd rather not have you scaring her off."

"I see."

You got the feeling Kol didn't care for his mother all that much. Moreover, the feeling unfortunately seemed mutual.

"Who the bloody hell is this?" A new voice joined the conversation. This speaker was also feminine and she at least sounded alive, however, you had no plans of turning to face her.

"Nobody important," Kol replied. Your heart sank. 

"That's Nobody Important?" The voice was oddly familiar. It took you a second to place it. Rebekah Mikaelson, Kol's sister. "Wait a second… is she the artist who drew all those messed-up pictures of everyone?" You couldn't help groaning. Rebekah laughed. "I take it that's a yes." She paused. "Does she know about…"

The boy grinned. "She's been informed."

"Ah." Rebekah nodded. "That was the screaming, I presume."

"Indeed, it's all sorted now though. Right, love?" He prompted, carding his fingers through your hair.

"Oh, uh… yeah." Perhaps your usual terse responses would be taken for stupidity. "We made a deal."  

He nodded as though that was exactly what you were supposed to say.

"That we did. Y/N's going to be staying with us for a few days," He explained, swinging you back and forth a little bit with the cheekiest grin possible. 

"Absolutely not," His mother said. You flinched and Kol's grip on you tightened as though this woman would try to take you away from him. 

"Why?"

"I know you, my son," She answered coolly. "You kill, maim, and torture, reveling in the lives you end-"

As the woman spoke, images flashed through your head. They were blurry, out of focus - moving too quick to take in - but all of them were stained red. It was odd. Those images - they almost felt as though they didn't belong to you. It felt like watching through a window where the curtains are closed but not all the way. Distantly, you thought you heard Kol laugh… but that couldn't have been right because he was growling viciously. You shivered and he held onto you tighter. 

"-I will not so much as consider housing a guest until you learn some semblance of control," She finished.

"My control is fine," Kol spat with contempt. Growing serious, he lowered you to the ground. Searing pain shot through your ankle as you absentmindedly rested weight on it. You flinched, wavering, and the boy shot you a concerned glance. You shook your head slightly and instead leaned into his side. Kol slipped his arm around your back to support you.

"I've yet to see evidence of that," His mother said. She waved a hand towards you. "This child can barely stand, Kol. What have you done to her?"

Your friend ground his teeth but you squeezed his arm.

"That was my fault, m'am," You spoke up. "I tripped. It was a misunderstanding."

Kol's mother narrowed her eyes, her expression pinched and sour. It wasn't hard to tell that she'd already judged you to be dim and unimportant with no more than a glance in your direction. Her golden blond hair matched the rest of her features - straight, rigid, and utterly impeccable. Studying her appearance, the artist in you kicked in. You supposed you could see the familial resemblance between mother and son in their facial structure, yet at the same time, the two couldn't have been more different. It was in the eyes, you thought. Kol's were milk chocolate - warm and playful. This woman’s were an arctic glacier - frigid and hard.

"I doubt you understand much of anything pertaining to my son," She said through tight lips. You blinked.

That was uncalled for.

You were relieved to note that you weren't the only one who thought so. Kol snarled and, standing beside her mother, Rebekah frowned.

"Mother, I don't think-" The girl began. 

"Silence, Rebekah," Her mother commanded. The girl's mouth snapped shut. The woman's cold eyes flicked back to you. "What is your name, child?"

You swallowed thickly. "Y-Y/N, m'am."

"Y/N," She addressed. "My name is Esther. I am well aware of how charming my son can be when he so desires something, but heed this my warning. You do not know him. He cannot control himself and his lack of restraint will not make an exception for you."

"He's done a pretty good job so far." You weren't sure where the bite in your tone came from - it was unlike you - but you didn't regret it. You didn't like the way she talked about Kol, about her son. She spoke like he was nothing more than an animal - wild and ravenous. He was more than that. He was kind.

"Erase her memories and send her home. This meeting never happened." She moved to turn around, discouraging any further discussion. 

A sardonic smile curled at the blonde woman's lips, but there was nothing friendly about it. She waved her hand dismissively. "I say again, you know nothing of what you speak. His patience is limited and as it wanes, his appetite for you will only grow. You are human; you will bleed and my son will attack. I gave my word to this village's authority to keep my children in line. I will not allow your life to end the same way as so many others." Just like that, she was done speaking to you, turning away as though you simply weren't worth her time. She redirected her attention to Kol. 

"No!" The boy beside you snapped. 

Esther paused. Slowly, her head turned to eye Kol over her shoulder. She raised a brow. For a tense moment that felt like an eternity, all was silent.

"No?" Her voice was clipped - a challenge and a warning. "You would defy me, my son?"

Rebekah's wide eyes flicked rapidly between her mother and brother worriedly. Out of the corner of her eye, she shot you a pitying glance but didn't attempt to speak up. Next to you, Kol stiffened and his fingers pressed into your waist. It shocked you to note that, incredulous as it seemed, Kol was terrified of this woman. You could almost taste it in the air - something tangy, copper… pain. But to his credit, he didn't back down. 

"I gave my word she could stay," He said. His voice was firm but you could feel his hand trembling. "This whole bloody town believes her to be insane. Her own parents intend to send her to a lunatic asylum and it's my fault. I ruined her reputation and as much as I may wish I could fix it, I can't compel an entire town. This is the best I can do to make repremends." 

He held that woman's cold, cold eyes for a full minute, unblinking, and you had to admire the sort of constitution such a display of sheer willpower would require. You wouldn't have been able to do that.

"It's true," Rebekah finally added, coming to her brother's aid. "All of it. Kol practically ruined the poor girl's life!"

You flinched. She was right, but you couldn't exactly dwell on that at the moment. The frying pan was the least of your worries so long as you remained in the fire.

Esther's gaze returned to you, wordlessly prompting you to voice your standing. 

You nodded, opting to stare at her feet instead of her face. Her feet were intimidating enough. "They're right. I-I have nowhere else to go," You admitted in hardly more than a whisper. "Kol promised."

Esther's expression soured further. She glared at you as though you'd offered her insult in suggesting that her son might not be the foulest creature on the planet. He wasn't. He'd been kind, a good friend - and that was better than you received from most.

"You wouldn't make a liar out of me, would you?" Kol challenged, daring to proffer a self-satisfied smirk. 

You were suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that looks did not, in fact, possess the potency required to kill. Otherwise, you were quite sure your life would have been rendered forfeit by the icy glare Esther sent your way. 

"On the contrary." The woman smiled thinly. "It's about time you displayed a little honor, my son. I would do well to encourage this sort of behavior. Very well. Bring her inside."

Kol sent her the most glaringly false smile you'd ever seen. 

"Thanks, Mum!" He held out his other arm for you to hold onto and you took it, wincing as tested a little weight on your left foot. Kol adjusted his grip on your waist to better take on most of your weight before he helped you up the front steps. "Take it easy, love. We'll get you something to eat… Oh, and mother?" He paused just before passing through the door. Esther hummed, facing him. He flashed her a sneer. 

"You may be the architect of my curse, but you've been dead for one thousand years. Do not presume to know me or my limits."

Esther sculpted her expression into an approximation of something motherly. "Very well."

The rest of the day flew by in something of a shell-shocked haze. Kol made you breakfast, showed you around his house, and left you alone to stow your backpack full of essentials in a guest bedroom. After you finished with that, you sat on the unfamiliar bed, struggling to process everything you'd been exposed to in one day. You weren't sure how long you spent just staring off into space. It could have been minutes - it could have been hours.

A muffled noise drew you from your reverie and you looked up to see Rebekah's blonde head poking through the doorway. She smiled and you switched your hearing aids back on.

"Sorry, what?"

"My brothers and I were just about to play a game," She said, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. "Kol thought it might be nice to invite you… since you haven't left this room in two hours. Would you like to join us?"

Two hours? That sure looked pathetic. 

You stood, straightening your paint-stained hoodie. "Um, sure. What are you guys playing?" 

Thankfully, your ankle had long since quit bothering you after Kol had made you some tea with breakfast. He'd said it would help your injury and sure enough, the swelling had gone down along with the pain. 

"No idea!" She chirped. "Come on, everyone's waiting downstairs."

"O-okay." 

Hugging your arms around yourself, you trailed after the deadly cheerleader as she skipped down to the first floor and into their kitchen which was easily as big as your entire house. Gathered there around a table that had to be made of mahogany, sat three men whose names you knew despite having never before met them. Rebekah moved to join them but you reached forward and caught her sleeve. She turned back, raising a brow.

Your voice faltered. "Um, w-where's Kol?"

"Allocating some playing cards," The only blond of the three men answered. He was sketching something - a portrait by the looks of it - the quality of which was exquisite. "He'll be back shortly."

Your mouth worked faster than your brain. "You guys don't have any playing cards?" You asked.

Another man, this one brunette and dressed in an expensive suit, tossed a hand in your direction. "You see, Niklaus? Even this one agrees."

The blond man, Niklaus, rolled his eyes. 

"My apologies if I'm not overly fond of solitaire!"

The man in the suit huffed and turned to you. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced, I am Elijah," He said. You waved - stiff and awkward - prompting a twitch of his lips. 

"Hi," You mumbled. "I'm Y/N Y/LN."

He nodded. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." How old had Kol said he and his siblings were? This one certainly talked like he could be one thousand. "These are my brothers, Finn and Niklaus." He gestured to each of them. 

"That's Klaus to you," The blond man snapped, rather irritably. "I suppose that makes you Kol's latest toy? I'd heard he'd brought another one home."

You stiffened. Even if you'd had the slightest clue how to respond to that, you were cut off before you had the chance.

"Another one?" The other brunette - Finn - snorted. "You say that as if it's typical for our brother's playthings to last this long." He turned to you, eyes hard and unreadable. "Can you sing?"

The sudden topic change threw you.

"Uh…" You blinked. "N-no more than other people, I think?"

Finn hummed, eyes returning to his book. "Not like Dolcina then."

"Finn-" 

Elijah held up a hand, cutting off his sister's warning. "This is important, why?" 

"Inquiring after our little brother's type, are we, Finn?" Klaus added with a smirk.

The eldest of the siblings scoffed. "Our brother's type is anything with a pulse. Dolcina was merely the only other of his dalliances to survive long enough to meet the rest of us." He shot you a sour glance out of the corner of his eye. "Seeing as they have nothing in common, I doubt this one will fare much better."

As your eyes connected for the briefest second, it was like something out of a dream. An overwhelming rush of noise and color flooded your thoughts. The impressions felt like memories, but they weren't - at least, not yours. 

Just as before, it was sounds at first, beginning with a voice - a pleasant song that morphed into a shrill scream. Distantly, you caught the notes of a hauntingly familiar, musical laugh - something like a bubbling spring. Innocent, boyish laughter. Soft words whispered to a dying girl. Warm hands. A vice-like grip. 

Blooming like impressions in watercolor, a face you'd never seen before rendered itself in your imagination. Tresses of golden blonde hair spilled out over a stone surface - the flooring of a Catholic monastery, though you weren't sure how you knew that. Glazed, dead eyes stared up endlessly, their crystal blue shade contrasting starkly with the scarlet hues staining her throat and soaking through her once pure white dress. More bite marks littered her arms, chest, and back and those were just the ones you could see. You didn't want to know how many were covered by her clothes. A rosary hung from the mutilated mess that was her neck - she was meant to be a nun one day.

You saw petal-soft lips stained with red and black abyssal eyes. Dark, tousled hair with hints of caramel catching the fading sunlight. A charming smile and dagger-like teeth.

You gasped and the images faded. The unbidden daydream lasted mere heartbeats but each one felt to you like an eternity. 

What had you just seen?

You didn't realize how much you were trembling until Rebekah wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Cut it out, Finn. You're scaring the poor thing!" 

You snapped your head to her, eyes wide. She frowned and rubbed your arm soothingly but you were already halfway to a panic attack. 

"Good," The man said dryly. "She could use a little common sense." He shook his head, mumbling under his breath, "Foolish girl." 

The condescension in his tone was tangible enough to cut with a knife and with how hot your temper flared at his implication, you were surprised you refrained from attacking him. Of course trusting your life to the hands of a vampire wasn't the smartest course of action. You knew that! You simply didn't have any other choice! Yet he had the audacity to assume you were doing this because of some childish crush?

He assumed he could see through you. He didn't know anything.

You were glad your shaking fists could still pass for the nerves of a timid teenager.

Before you could come up with a retort, Klaus' head shot up - alert. "Incoming." He pointed. Seconds later, Kol appeared in the doorway. Quite literally. It was as though he materialized out of thin air.

"I got it!" He announced, holding a deck of cards aloft victoriously. "Now can we decide what we're playing, please?" 

"Oh, oh! Poker?" Rebekah suggested with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

The dark-haired boy moved to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your temple before guiding you to sit beside him at the table where he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

Across from you, Elijah grimaced. "No thank you, sister. I believe I owe you and Kol enough favors already."

"That's only because you can't bluff, mate," Kol assured, whipping the cards from the box. "I'm sure you'll get better at it in another thousand years or so."

He split the deck to begin shuffling but Elijah reached out and snatched them from his hands.

"I may make a poor bluff," He said, quickly layering the cards both forward and back. "But you are a flagrant cheat."

"I am not!"

"You count cards and rig the deck. That's cheating."

"And that's why I prefer Baccarat," Kol countered.

"My point still stands."

"Besides," Klaus added, sounding bored. He gestured to you, "this one's got nothing to wager." Then he paused and raised a brow, smirking. "Unless, of course, you'd be willing to tap a vein, love."

Under the table, you clasped Kol's hand and that boy could count himself lucky that he was superhumanly durable as he'd explained to you earlier. The pressure of your grip turned your knuckles as pale as your face. He gave you a reassuring squeeze in return and your trembling lessened slightly. Perhaps it was foolish to take comfort from him, but of the murderers surrounding you, at least he was the most familiar.

"Don't be an ass, Nik." Kol scowled, pulling your chair a little closer to his.

Klaus just shrugged. "Just making a suggestion," He said. The expression he wore was that of a very satisfied wolf. "No need to get so uptight, brother. After all, what's a friendly game of poker without some interesting stakes?"

An uncomfortable blush warmed your cheeks as you bit your lip, shrinking in your seat. On your other side, Rebekah huffed.

"Quit being creepy - all of you!" She demanded. "Bloody hell. Elijah, back me up on this!"

The man in the suit didn't so much as glance up from the cards he was shuffling. 

"I would if I thought my doing so would make a difference, sister," He said in a tone so dry you might mistake the humor in it for a mirage. "Please excuse my brother's lack of tact, Miss. L/N. Finn is anxious and uncomfortable in his new surroundings whereas Niklaus, I believe, is jealous that Kol seems to have made a friend."

"I'm not jealous," Klaus grumbled. "I'm suspicious."

"Paranoid," Elijah corrected. He continued shuffling. Had you not been quite so intimidated, confused, and agitated, you might have noted that his shuffling was likely better than some dealers on the Las Vegas strip. 

"What's your favorite card game, Y/N?" Rebekah asked. Her's was likely an attempt to put you at ease and though failed, you appreciated it all the same.

"Oh, um…" Tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear, you thought for a moment, searching through your brain for games that five immortal siblings might find entertaining. You arrived at a surprising conclusion. "Do you guys know how to play B.S?"

An hour later, after explaining the rules, the six of you were on your second game. 

"One King," You lied, laying the four of hearts face down on the pile of cards stacked in the center of the table. 

Kol eyed you for a moment but didn't call you out. He withdrew a selection of cards from his hand and followed suit. 

"Three aces," He said evenly. 

"Bullshit!" Klaus called around a mouthful of pretzels. Apparently, a bottle of whiskey and three bowls of salted bread twists were what qualified as a viable evening meal in this house. You weren't going to question it, though you opted for a bowl of cereal instead.

"Alright." Kol shrugged, smirking. "Go ahead and check then."

"Rebekah put down an ace on her first turn," Klaus reasoned. "You really expect me to believe that out of six other people, you just so happen to have the other three?"

You glanced down at your cards and frowned. You held the ace of clubs. So either Kol had managed to slip an ace up his sleeve - which would hardly reward him in this game - or someone was lying. (Not exactly surprising considering that was the whole point.)

Kol leaned back in his chair, smug as a bug. "Seems like you've got me all figured out."

"Are you going to call it or not?" Elijah pressed. 

Klaus narrowed his eyes. "I'm calling it."

Grinning, Kol reached forward and flipped the top three cards of the deck face-up. There sat the ace of diamonds, the ace of spades, and the ace of hearts.

"Read 'em and weep, Nik."

"Bloody hell, that's half the deck."

"And it's all yours."

Klaus groaned and, as per the rules, took the whole stack into his hand. 

"This is what happens when you suspect everyone of bullshit," Elijah chided, laying down two cards to start a fresh pile. "Two twos."

"I suspect everyone because everyone is suspect!" The blond exclaimed, reorganizing his now enormous hand. "Looking through this, I don't think Rebekah's played a legitimate card this whole game!"

"Hey! I have too!" She claimed. "There's a three in there somewhere."

"Not where it's supposed to be," He retorted. Then the hybrid jabbed a finger in your direction. "And you-" He emphasized. You jumped just a little. "-are lucky your heart is already racing just as fast as a rabbits, otherwise, I could have called you out for half of this."

You tried your best to smile, shrugging. 

You continued playing until the rest of Kol's siblings called for a mercy rule having lost to Finn nine times out of thirteen. Elijah cleaned up the cards and Rebekah was kind enough to bid you goodnight as you quietly announced that you would be heading to bed.

It startled you when Kol materialized by your side once you were halfway up the stairs and you nearly tripped. Luckily, he reacted and placed a steadying hand on the small of your back, flashing you an almost apologetic smile. Silence stretched on between you as he walked you - like an old-fashioned gentleman - back to the guest bedroom he'd designated was yours for the time being. It wasn't awkward, but he'd reached to hold your hand and you had shied away from his touch, wrapping your arms around yourself instead. 

Reaching the cream-colored door, he held it open for you, smirking in that infuriatingly cheeky way of his. "My lady…" He waved you inside and you flushed, ducking your head as you passed by him.

The second you were fully within the room, Kol kicked the door shut behind him and brushed past you before flopping back onto the bed. The rapid movement made you flinch. 

He looked up at you expectantly with those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes of his, smiling. A chill ran down your spine as you took in the sight. Though you didn't understand how, the fact remained: you had seen things - glimpses of horrors you didn't want to fathom. Yet, trying to equate this sweet boy with the ravenous monster you knew was lurking beneath his skin was like trying to compare a baby fox to a Panzer. 

How were you supposed to keep yourself safe if you couldn't see him as a threat? His true face was monstrous but by the time his fangs came out it would be too late for you. In front of you, all you could see was your friend. But what of his family's warnings?

The teasing, enthusiastic smile faded from his lips. He sat up and his brows drew together with concern. "Darling, is something the matter?"

You stood hardly a step from the doorway - stiff and unsure - rubbing your wrist nervously. 

"I-I, uh… It's nothing," You told him, trying to smile reassuringly.

"Really?" Kol raised a brow. You hummed and he narrowed his eyes. "That's odd, because you look like you've seen a ghost."

A heavy sigh escaped your lungs. You'd been holding it in all day.

"You've been a good, uh, friend to me, Kol." You paused. "Well… sort of. Y-You're trying to make up for it, I know. Point is, I don't wanna hurt your feelings." 

It was a bit of a surprise to note that, not only did you want to avoid going to a mental health institution, but you also didn't want to see the smile slip from that boy's face. You liked it when he smiled.

He got to his feet and took a step toward you. "Love, I-"

A mess of blonde hair and blood flickered behind your eyes. You could almost see the blood on his hands.

Drawing a shuddering breath, you shuffled back a few places, half-hoping you might meld yourself into the wall if you tried hard enough. Kol stopped, eyes wide with first confusion and then hurt.

"Darling, I'm not… I'm not going to hurt you. Remember?" 

"You say that." You shook your head. "But five other people are telling me the opposite."

His jaw clenched, and he nodded bitterly. "Do you believe them?" He asked.

"I don't want to."

Kol met your eyes for a moment and it happened again. 

You saw green, a forest surrounding you. Trembling hands, warm and slick with blood. A searing pain like nothing you'd ever felt twisted your stomach and traveled upward, burning your throat. You heard a voice, alien in its vulnerability but familiar all the same. Words of a language you didn't understand flowed out in oceans of choked sobs - a cry for help, though you shouldn't have known that. 

And no one ever came.

Kol cursed and tore his eyes away. The connection broke and you blinked away the afterimages burned into your memories.

"I asked you for five days," He said, voice wavering. "Will you grant them to me?"

"I don't know…"

"I understand that you're frightened and confused, but you have to give me a chance," He insisted. That boy's eyes darkened. "You're not supposed to be like everyone else."

He had to use your own words against you.

"I'm trying not to be." Shuffling your feet, you took one step away from the wall. The smile he sent you was strained but it was there all the same as he reached out to offer you his hand. You took it and he tugged you toward the bed where he sat down again. Your cheeks burned and your stomach did backflips - fear mixed with something entirely different. His smile and hands were gentle as he guided you to straddle his lap. Your hands settled naturally on his shoulders and you were pleasantly surprised when he rested his own respectfully on your waist. 

"Y/N, my love, I know this is a lot to take in," He said, looking you in the eyes. "But from the very beginning, I haven't changed. You met me as I am right now. Now, I know things can't go back to how they were, but you don't have to act as though I'm someone else."

You'd never been afraid to share exactly what was on your mind with your best friend. Kol was still that boy. 

You bit your lip, nodding. When you spoke, your voice came out quiet and hoarse. 

"So if I told you the truth and said that even though I know I should be scared out of my mind, I still feel safer when I'm with you - i-if I said that, what would you say?" You wouldn't look him in the eyes, instead focusing on picking a loose thread from his jacket. Kol just hummed, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. He pulled you in closer, resting his cheek on your hair.

"I think I would be thrilled to hear that," He said, with just a hint of a smile in his tone. "And I would have to wonder if perhaps that confession might be an invitation to stay?"

"I think it's more of a request actually," You murmured, resting your head on his chest. His jacket smelled like burning pine and brown sugar - an odd combination but nice all the same. 

"Well, in that case-" He pulled away and flashed you an eager smile. "-movie?"

"Just until I fall asleep?" You asked.

"Just until you fall asleep."

"And then you'll leave?"

He nodded solemnly so you knew he meant it. "If that's what you want."

Then you smiled for him - your real smile and, looking into his eyes, you thought you saw a meadow bathed in sunshine. 

"Have you ever seen Lilo and Stitch?" You wondered.

Kol shook his head, chuckling softly. "Love, if it came out after 1914, it's a safe bet to assume I haven't seen it."

"Well, would you like to?"

"Is it any good?" He asked, mimicking your unsure tone. This was still your best friend - his teasing still made you giggle.

You shoved his shoulder a little. "Okay smart-alec. Where's the remote in this joint?"

"No idea." He frowned, tilting his head like a puppy. "Have you not found it? I only know where mine is."

"We can watch it in your room."

For whatever reason, just speaking those words sent a thrill through your body - something like electricity and butterflies. 

Kol eyed you with a cautious sort of hope. "You'd be comfortable with that?"

You nodded. "I wanna trust you."

The boy grinned and it was one of those smiles that looked like it could be made of light. 

"You never stop surprising me," He mused, almost to himself. You glanced away, smiling though you didn't quite understand why. 

"I try." 

"And I love it," He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His cinnamon and spice breath ghosted over the shell of your ear when he spoke again. "May I carry you?"

You frowned and tried to ignore the rush of heat invading your cheeks and creeping lower. "Y-You want to?"

"Very much so, angel." 

Your voice sounded very small. "Okay."

Far too slowly for your own good, Kol slid his hands from your waist over the swell of your hips, then down and around to the backs of your thighs. His grip tightened until your breath hitched in your throat. Your whole body was trembling but you weren't scared - not of him. 

"Is this alright?" He asked huskily. You knew you were in trouble when he looked up through his lashes and met your eyes again to be sure. It was so sweet - he was so sweet. 

If you spoke, you would surely make a fool of yourself. You couldn't seem to drum up any kind of language so you just nodded and quickly buried your face in his shoulder. 

"Thank you, angel," He whispered, lifting you easily as he got to his feet. You probably weighed less than a feather to him. 

He pulled you in flush against his chest. You could feel each breath he took and could hear his heartbeat. (You were a little surprised he had one.) Kol was warm - so very warm. Being carried by him was like being rocked to sleep, by the time you reached his room you were fully content to remain in his arms forever. After turning on the TV in his room, he laid back on his bed, still cradling you like a little kid. For once, you didn't mind - it only felt… adoring when he did it. 

He asked if you wanted him to put you down. You said no.

By the time Stitch's spaceship crash-landed on Earth, you were already half asleep. 

***

Poor thing was three sheets to the wind as soon as he'd started the movie. It was so sweet to watch her struggle to stay awake. She gave it all she had but once he'd started combing his finger through her hair, that girl was a goner. 

His little artist was practically lying on top of him, completely vulnerable in every way, and yet she felt safe enough to fall asleep. 

How bloody extraordinary. 

He turned off the movie and she shifted, nuzzling closer to him. Kol smiled. It wasn't even a malicious smile like he was so used to putting on. It was a smile he couldn't keep off his face. That girl had every reason to hate his guts and yet still - even after everything he'd done - she chose him. 

No one else would do that. No one else ever had.

So Kol had to smile as he rested his cheek on her hair. She had soft hair. He closed his eyes just for a second, basking in her warmth, taking in her scent, reveling in the pulse he could feel just beneath her soft, soft skin. Sure he had one, but it was weak, hardly there at all. Hers was strong and tempting - like a lullaby he wanted to sink his teeth into.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him then and it was odd because he really hadn't been that tired. He fought it of course, because he'd promised to take his little artist back to her room once she fell asleep but his limbs felt so heavy. Slowing his thoughts, that foreign sense of fatigue dragged him under before he could question it. 

He woke up, according to the clock on his bedside table, mere minutes later. Yet, something felt… off. Kol frowned, glancing down at the girl in his arms. Her head was tilted slightly to the side and her shirt had slipped off her shoulder, perfectly bearing her throat to him. 

In a split second, Kol's throat ran dry. His stomach twisted and an all too familiar pain shot through him. Thoughts were stripped away from his mind, just like they always were when his curse overtook him. He tried to fight, but he couldn't think. He was hungry - so hungry - and it hurt. 

He tried to tear his eyes away, but he couldn't. He couldn't look away and she was right there. Her scent overwhelmed him, ensnaring his senses - strawberries dipped in sugar and cotton candy with roses. Kol wanted- No, he needed to taste it. He could hear her pulse pounding in his ears. He could feel her blood rushing everywhere he touched her, through her clothes and her skin. She was so warm, almost burning him, but it was pleasant. The tender, delicate feel of her body was so enticing. He was so hungry. 

It was so sudden and extreme and unnatural but he couldn't think about that.  

Her perfect pretty eyes fluttered open. Tiredly, she glanced at him. She squeezed her eyes shut and stretched. Her carotid artery stood out through her skin. It took everything in him not to clamp his jaws around her throat that very second. She looked up at him again and started, gasping. Her heart rate spiked and Kol groaned. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his fangs retracted but her alluring scent was too strong to ignore. His eyes bled black. 

The girl in his arms whimpered.

No, no, no. Her eyes were wide, full of fear. He was scaring her. 

"Kol?" Even her breath carried the scent of her blood. How could he resist? "Are you okay?" 

He hummed, nodding even though he should have been telling her to run. "I just… I just need a minute."

It was like a dream. He wanted to warn her, but he could only seem to listen to himself soothe her worries. 

"You should run," He thought. "Get away. I'm gonna hurt you." But he couldn't say it. 

"Are you hungry?" She asked. Her voice was so quiet - so kind and sweet. That wasn't how she usually talked to him, he noted. That was the voice she used when she was trying to put on a good face. It wasn't real. 

Kol ran his tongue over his teeth. He tried to look at her but the perfect curve of her neck was so pretty. She was so close. 

"Yes," He hissed. He shut his eyes, trying his very best to block it out. 

Why couldn't he just let her go?

Her hand was warm. She reached up to touch his cheek, skimming her thumb over the writhing black veins protruding from his skin. Hers was so soft - so kind. People always ran from him. No one tried to touch him when he was like this.

He opened his eyes and met hers. She blinked. 

"S-sorry." She went to remove her hand but he caught her wrist and she stilled. He leaned into her touch, then pressed his lips against the pulse in her wrist. He kissed her - a little harsh, a little needy, but Kol couldn't help it, he needed more. "Just one taste," He promised himself as he let his tongue dart out, skimming over that same spot. A growl tore itself from deep in his throat as he kissed her again, laving at her delicate little wrist, almost touching the pretty little veins just beneath the thin veil of her skin. But he didn't bite. He didn't want to hurt her. He couldn't hurt that lovely angel. 

It was so much harder than it should have been to drag his mouth away from her wrist. When he looked up at her, his delicious little artist blushed so sweetly, he almost lost it. She was appetizing on a good day but now, so tiny and warm and blushing in his lap - how could he resist that?

He wanted to tell her to run, but that wasn't what left his lips.

"If you don't stop biting your lip like that, I swear I'll do it for you."

It wasn't a lie - it was never a lie. But that wasn't what he truly wanted from her.

That girl blushed further. He wanted to see how far down that blush went but at the same time, she really needed to get away from him before he killed her. 

"Does it hurt?" She wondered. "The hunger, I mean. Does it hurt you?"

His curse clawed at his stomach, a black hole that could never be appeased. He just wanted it to go away. 

"Yes," He murmured. "It does."

That girl bit her lip again and Kol didn't know how it happened, but suddenly he was on top of her. It was dreamlike with the way things shifted and blurred. He didn't really have control over his movements, not quite. He could only watch - like a passenger in his own body - as he positioned himself to end her life. 

Yet, he couldn't stop.

So when he leaned down to kiss her, he wished he didn't know exactly what she tasted like, wished he'd never felt her velvety soft lips, wished he'd never kissed her more than he should have that first time, then maybe he could have kept himself at bay a little longer. He couldn't focus. Her body felt so good beneath his - so warm and soft and human - part of him wanted her this way for real. He could feel her breathing, could feel her chest heaving but he couldn't tell if she was scared or not. He could hear her heart, pulsing a low rhythm, wet and strong. Kol knew what that girl tasted like and he couldn't resist. His hands found her arms and he pinned her down, licking into her mouth with heat and a desire he couldn't fight. It was filthy and deep and everything he wanted. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought he was possessed as he ravished that girl's mouth, listening to her whimper so bloody sweetly. 

The worst part, however, was that he did know better. Kol knew himself and he knew that perhaps not so deep within his blackened soul, there existed some sick part of him that genuinely enjoyed what he was doing to her, he wouldn't have dreamt it otherwise. Or perhaps he wasn't quite the one dreaming it. Something about the dream - and it was that or at least he prayed it was - felt oddly forced. But he couldn't focus on that.

Temptation overwhelmed him, demanding that he break away from her lips. He was licking at her throat before he could stop himself. The taste of her skin was too much and not enough, a flavor like pure honey and gold stripped any cognitive function from him. An animal-like growl built in his chest and he was sure he was bruising that poor girl's arms, but all he could feel was an all-consuming need for more. Kol felt so hungry in every possible way. He couldn't think. All he could do was trail his mouth lower, leaving mind-numbing kisses along her collarbone. 

He couldn't believe what he was about to do. How could he hurt his tiny perfect angel? Even if this was only a dream, did that make a difference? If he did it in his head, would he do it for real? She trusted him…

Then… he heard her. She was speaking - talking to him. 

"It's okay, Kol." Her voice was light and breathy. She carded her fingers through his hair and melted into her soft touch. No one had ever touched him like that. It was so pleasant, the boy couldn’t help the low purr that thrummed in his chest. 

This was what he wanted from that girl. Kol just wanted it to be real. Was that too much to ask?

 "It's okay,” She said. “You're okay. I know you would never hurt me and I care about you. So, if you're hungry, you can have a taste. I know you can't help it. I won't mind."

It was fake - just a dream - a fantasy. 

She would never say something like that. She would never sound like that either - so submissive and demure. That wasn't her. It felt like someone else. 

Kol knew it was a lie.

But those were her lips and it was her voice. How could he resist an invitation for the very thing he wanted so terribly from her?

Swiftly, like the fox he was so often equated to, he buried his fangs deep into his artist’s perfect throat. Biting into that girl's tender flesh was like curling up under a cashmere blanket, it was relaxing and reassuring - like he'd done the right thing and everything would be alright as long as he kept biting down. It wasn't the excitement of an enrapturing high that he usually felt. It was a comfort and he couldn't help but let it soothe him. 

Oh, and that girl was screaming. His little artist screamed and cried and begged for him to stop. Kol could hear her, but the sound seemed so far away. Like a dark curse lifted, the lie, the terrible illusion which had blinded her, was gone. She sobbed, cursing his name, but he couldn’t really hear her - far too absorbed in the bliss of satiating his hunger. The girl struggled and thrashed, but he just tightened his grip, keeping her pinned. Kol hummed and bit down a little harder - he couldn't explain why, but it felt so good. The instant her blood met his tongue, he knew this could only be a dream - it was hot and thick but he couldn't taste her, not quite. He wished he could. She would probably taste like strawberries and everything sweet. 

Maybe one day she'd let him taste her for real. She could learn to trust him. After all, she would never have to know about this dream. 

Kol drank her until the warmth in her skin faded away.

Then he woke up.

And Y/N was still screaming.

*** 

The first and only thing you could do was lash out. 

No ordinary dream could be that vivid, nor remain so clear in your mind. It was as unnatural as his insatiable appetite, or the demonic blackness you found yourself waking to.

The second your eyes snapped open, you shoved yourself away from that… that thing. Your foot collided with his knee, imparting enough force to warrant an audible crack. Scrambling off the bed, your hand slipped on the edge and you toppled backward. 

Your head cracked against the hardwood floor of his bedroom. 

Pain exploded throughout your entire body. Ears ringing, lights flashed in your vision and the world blurred. Your thoughts - the few you had - stilled. You couldn't move and you couldn't run. 

That disgusting predator lunged. Just like in that horrid dream, he positioned himself over you and you couldn't fight back. You wanted to, but your body wouldn't cooperate. Obsidian eyes faded to milk chocolate, blinking rapidly. His fangs retracted and he looked like that sweet boy again. But no. 

He had bitten you.

It may have been a dream, but you knew he had been the one to make that choice. Somehow, some way - the two of you had shared an unconscious thought. Kol had been there and he had chosen to hurt you. 

He'd enjoyed it.

He'd liked holding you down - relished manhandling you. Why else would he have chosen to do it?

You hadn't been able to tell him no, your mouth simply refused to form the words. You'd listened to yourself offer him a chance to feed on you. He'd been so eager, so hungry. 

That was gone now, you noticed as you reached up and fisted his shirt, staring blindly off into the space overhead. You tried to speak but all that came out was a pathetic keen. You wanted to shove him away, scream at him for lying to you yet again. But you couldn't. White hot pain pulsed at the back of your skull and your stomach turned with a looming nausea. Your limbs couldn't seem to do anything but pull that boy in closer to you. 

Through the tears blurring your vision, you thought you saw his expression contort into one of desperate worry. He cried out for his sister, though it took you several seconds to understand the words on his lips. 

"Rebekah! REBEKAH GET IN HERE NOW!"

You blinked slowly, in a daze, attempting to clear the spots from your quickly dimming field of view but it was fruitless. Kol's hand gently brushed your hair back from your forehead but you flinched away from him. You wished you could curse his name but the only sound you could make was another feeble keen.

"Just keep those pretty eyes of yours open, okay?" The boy was saying

 He stroked your cheek, forcing his lips to smile. "Alright, darling? It's gonna be fine. Jus-just don't close your eyes."

You didn't want to listen to him very much. Why should you? That boy would end your life one way or another - be it by accident or for entertainment. You'd rather pass out and die from a concussion in your sleep than experience Kol's teeth in your neck again.

Dream or not, that boy's mouth had felt all too real. 

You didn't try to stifle the bitter huff of a laugh that escaped your lips before your head lolled to the side and your vision blackened. 

"No… No, no, no! Y/N/N!!!" Your former friend's voice cried. "REBEKAH!"

No one came.

"Rebek-" His sister's name was cut off by a soft sound - if you hadn't known better, you would have thought it a sob. "No. No, NO! Y/N, please… just stay awake. You have to stay awake!"

Your thoughts drifted and sank beneath the rolling waves of unconsciousness. 

"ELIJAH?! KLAUS?!" He called desperately. "ANYONE?!"

Still, there was no answer.

"...Please?" 

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I DUNNO IF THIS WAS THE RIGHT INBOX OR NOT AAAAA

CAPTAIN KOBY HEADCANONS MY BELOVED

(Haven’t watched that far into One Piece, I’m at like episode 500 so sorry if these are ooc at all)

General

- Doesn’t like coffee, no matter how much sugar or creamer he puts in it’s always not quite right or to his liking, he’s the same way with some teas.

- Keeps a pocket sketchbook or some sort of small notebook hand, sketches or writes about things he sees or thinks about.

- Favorite animal would be otters, I feel like he would see them frequently while sailing and overall likes them for their smarts, such as using rocks to open shells. Though, he absolutely adores how they hold hands or hold their kin while they sleep or float to not get lost.

- Morning person, definitely. Almost always the first one up and awake, walking around and already doing things while everyone else is still in bed.

- While he has grown up and became stronger, he’s still an easy crier. He gets emotional over things and while he can shove down the need to cry, he finds some place private to let his emotions go. He doesn’t like it when people see him cry publically, he feels like that wouldn’t make him “strong” to anyone anymore, especially with everything he has to go through.

- Struggles with anxiety, and I mean this man is brimming with it. His habit of overthinking can lead him to peril, while he has been scolded for “not doing anything and risking lives” due to it, some of his decisions after that could seem reckless, as he wouldn’t even give a second thought to the first thing that comes to mind.

- Definitely sleeps hugging a pillow, cannot sleep without hugging or holding something.

- Personal headcanon (I don’t know if we ever learn about his family or not) I think that while yes he truly did mistake the Alvida pirate’s boat for a fishing boat, he really was trying to sail away for good that day. People in his life would always tell him that he cries too easily or was too skittish about literally everything, overall bringing him down for years of his life. Yes, it was ok when he was younger, but while this behavior continued, people yelled at him more about how he needed to “not be such a crybaby” and not be so afraid of everything. Even now, he has issues dealing with people yelling or raising their voice at him.

- Another personal headcanon, this fella is so trans masc coded to me. When he found Luffy he was scared at first of course, some random ass stranger popped out of a barrel. But what really sold him is that Luffy didn’t question him at all about how he sounded or looked different, but to be quite frank, Luffy doesn’t seem like the type of person to bring that up anyway. Yes, Luffy saved him and he’s happy about that, but he also saw how he was? How he actually wanted to be? AND inspired his dreams?? The boost of confidence he got from that still fuels him to this day as a captain, that’s why he still looks back to that day, the first day someone saw him for who he actually was and didn’t question him. Still questions to this day if he’s valid or even passing for that matter, but that memory always helps him with dysphoria.

S/O

- Loves spooning, he doesn’t care if he's big or little spoon, he’s perfectly content either being held or him holding you. Though, he does have the habit of being mostly big spoon since he wants to protect you and keep you safe.

- His love language would definitely be quality time, especially with how long he has to be gone for sometimes. When he comes back after whatever duties he had, all he wants to do is spend some time with you doing whatever. Could be something as little as just sitting and holding each other in silence, or something more like going shopping or on a date. Though, his favorite thing to do would probably be being able to snuggle up with the person he cares the most about and rest without having to worry.

- Love hugging his s/o from behind and resting his head on their back or shoulder, depending on his height.

- This man is all green flags, will absolutely pamper his s/o if they’re feeling under the weather and sooth them if they’re not feeling 100%.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes btw :3€

AAAAA GOD TIER HEADCANONS!!!! I love them all!!!!!!

Don't you worry, im crawling through Impel Down, dreading 482 and what comes after 🙃 Ace girl things™️

But AAAAA no SADS JUST KOBY

This man has abused golden retriever energy, like rescued and bounced back and is the healthiest boy now.

He is a literal cinnamon roll!!!!!

God he'd cry over every animal he sees because its so cute. Like "S/O! Look!!!!! At them!!! Can we adopt them?!" Its so hard to say no

I loveeeeeeee the idea of him falling for a Pirate. Man is so upset about it too at first, like he is so in denial about it. Till a silly fanfic esq situation gets them alone and he can't deny the attraction, physical and emotional anymore?! Chefs kiss the drama!

I also love the idea for Trans masc Koby, that Garp is just like Luffy in his acceptance, like hes so confused as to why people would be upset that Koby identifies as a man. "You say you're a man so you're a man. " simple as that.

Also, forehead kisses on his scar!!!!!

Steal his bandana to tie up your own hair, the mans heart nearly stops and he clutches his chest.

Also i love the idea of his S/O trolling Alvida in subtle ways. As petty revenge on Koby's behalf. Like just any chance they get, they fuck with her. Steals her hat or something just goofy shit that you know would drive the unhinged woman mad.

Koby would 10/10 write little love poems in that notepad/ sketch book for his s/o or crush. Not that he'd be brave enough to share. He could be convinced. Lol

Hes a precious little Peony

[heymrspatel]

ART TAG

thanks for tagging me @deathclassic @kiennilove @suzy-queued @doshiart and @sgtmickeyslaughter 🥰💙

Have you always been interested in creating art? i have, yea! i've been drawing for as long as i can remember!

What's your favourite medium to use? If digital, what programs do you like? right now i would say digital since it's what i use the most nowadays. i use procreate on an ipad that is about to give out on me (and i really really need it to NOT do that).

Do you create outside of fandom? yea, i make silly little sketches for myself almost daily. just to stay sane while i work a corporate 9-5. those will never see the light of day.

Share something you haven't finished and/or never got around to posting this is like 90% done... but i never posted it because i didn't feel good with it at the time lol like something was off and i felt like i would have to undo too much to get it where i wanted it to be... (does this make sense?)

Favourite piece you've made? this is hard! i feel like it changes all the time? i'm going to go with this one because i really like how the background turned out and because i'm a soft bitch

Draw your icon in a minute or less hehe his cheeks

An underrated piece you've made in your opinion 'baby boy' idk i think it's really soft and lovely

but also, a lot of the kinktober pieces… i’ve been so so so very proud of them because they’re so vulnerable and i think i did a nice job with some of them, but they don’t quite take off 😅

Do you do art in a professional setting? i do not. my work is the furthest thing i could get from being creative.

A piece you don't like but did really well on social media uuuhhh i think i'll skip this one! simply because i could pick apart probably everything i've ever posted lol!

Post an old piece and compare it to your most recent, what are the similarites? i'm not going to do my most recent because it's kinktober and i also went for a pretty different style... SO! i'll do the first comic style one i did and the latest one!

the color palette is still the same, they're still very soft and gone for each other, i really love a gentle face hold!

Have you ever collaborated with another artist/s? i don't think i have? but i've collaborated with a couple of writers to make some pieces for their fics!

What piece has the most notes? Are you surprised? roadtrip boys! i'm not really surprised, not for nothing but i did my thing here. there's lots of details, storytelling, dreamy colors. i get it.

Who/What is your favourite subject matter? tbh it's landscapes or mundane still lifes...lol!! "julissa, not bowls of fruit!", everyone cried! you'd be correct. not that. but everyday kind of humdrum but meaningful pieces. atmospheric. yanking you back to a point in time. - i did a drawing of my grandma's vanity once. with her lipsticks and little lotions and stuff. like that.

Show us something not from fandom you've made here go:

Where do you like to create? on my couch. absolutely hunched over like a shrimp.

Do you have a tag that you use to group your creations? Tell us so people can follow it i do! i put everything under myart

Give yourself a shoutout, where can we commission/buy/follow you for more pieces? i don't do commissions or have anything for sale and i also don't exist anywhere else lamdsflj i'm just here and i crosspost on ao3 💙

i'll tag @deedala @michellemisfit @gallapiech @lingy910y @vintagelacerosette @gallawitchxx @spookygingerr @romidoes if you'd like to play! if not, this is just me giving you a little nose boop!

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Okay, so Rosie makes a point to be welcoming to the Replacements and a mentor in general. You know what that means.

Crushes.

Crushes everywhere.

Pappy and the rest of the crew spend a not-inconsiderable amount of time taking the starry-eyed replacement by the arm and going, "You've met Lemmons, right? You should meet Lemmons."

"Why?"

"Best mechanic in the whole damn air army. And Rosie's fella."

And even the most bravado-filled "Oh, I'm sure I can overcome a little thing like that" replacement comes back realizing they are batting WAY out of their league. That brain with that face and those freckles and that hair and those hands?

Nope. No way. Tag out.

And then, of course, they actually see Rosie and Ken interact, and it's just, "Oh, yeah, I had zero chance."

But every now and again there's a real cocky fucker. Usually from money. Who sees Lemmons and goes, "Okay, fine, he's a pretty face and a good mechanic, but Rosie's a LAWYER. I have a college degree. I have money. I can win this."

Pappy and the boys don't even bother with those. They just sit back and watch as those cocky fuckers do the same thing every single time: decide they can psych out Ken fucking Lemmons.

Who absolutely knows they're trying to psych him out, but he has several things they don't: Big blue eyes, a hick accent, and a very sharp awareness of when people think he's dumb. He's quickly got it down to an art.

"Oh, Rosie didn't mention you when we talked."

"Well, sure, he don't talk much when he's getting to know someone. But don't you worry, he'll open up."

"So, where did you go to college?"

"College? Oh, geez, no. Not me. Farm boy through and through. Didn't even graduate high school. Lucky I like machines so much. Honestly, I've got a couple ideas for how to improve planes in general when I get back. Robert's already written to a couple patent lawyers he knows. Real sweet of him, really. I've barely done more than sketched a few ideas."

"It must be a lot, keeping up with someone so wordly. From New York."

"Oh, no, I like it a lot! I didn't grow up in the city like Robert did, but I've been to a lot of 'em now, and they're really something! I'd love to be in a city and work on a bunch of busses or trains or something."

"You don't call him Rosie?"

"Naw, that's for you fellas. I'm happy with Robert." (that one is the closest he gets to giving away the game because none of the cocky fuckers can keep a straight face at Ken saying THEY'RE the one on the outside because they say Rosie.)

Meanwhile, Rosie laughs until he cries each and every time it happens. He never even clocks the cocky fuckers, and Ken's retelling of the events is always excellent.

[ask-the-becile-boys]

Story. Always Wanted

Previous | Next

[ID: Fourteen digitally sketched panels in black and white.]

[Panel 1: Hare squints his eye and points inquisitively at Riker, asking, "'Go see your mom?' The same mom you ain't talked to in a decade?" Riker looks down and says dismally, "I said it was a stupid idea. I just thought, y'know (ellipses)"]

[Panel 2: Riker looks off to the side and continues, "It's not like we have anything holding us here, now. If we're going to be starting over anyway (ellipses)"]

[Panel 3: The Skull looks down thoughtfully and says, "(ellipses) That's true. We're building back from nothing, but technically, we could do that anywhere." Hare pouts, saying, "I don't think I'm cut out for Smalltown, USA."]

[Panel 4: Riker looks up and to the side, thinking, as he says, "We couldn't stay there long-term, coal's too scarce. But we could stop in Wyoming to stock up (em-dash)" Dee cuts in, asking Riker, "You really want to see her, don't you?"]

[Panel 5: Riker lifts a brow slightly, hedging a little vulnerability as he asks the others, "(ellipses) Don't you guys have things you've always wanted to do?"]

[Panel 6: The Jack, The Skull, Hare, and Dee stand silently for a beat. No text.]

[Panel 7: Same shot. Everyone looks at The Jack as he says, "I want to see the Cubs beat the White Sox. At Wrigley Field."]

[Panel 8: Riker looks at The Jack, one brow raised high in surprise, and says, "I didn't know you liked baseball." The Jack smiles and says, "Well, it's hard to play with your arms tied up." From off panel, Dee begins to speak, saying, "I (ellipses)"]

[Panel 9: Dee in profile, saying, "I want to see the Everglades. Lake Okeechobee." Below her text, a simple drawing of The Jack exclaims excitedly, "We could break into Disney World!"]

[Panel 10: The Skull, with the hint of a determined smile, says, "I want to climb a mountain."]

[Panel 11: Hare lifts his hands in a halting gesture, eye closed. He says, "Guys, guys. You're all thinking too small."]

[Panel 12: Hare's hands shift into a wider, showy gesture, and his eye is starry as he says, "We gotta go to (all caps) Vegas." 'Vegas' is in a fancy font and surrounded by shine lines.]

[Panel 13: From off panel, The Skull and Hare converse, The Skull saying, "We gotta get (underlined) kicked out (plain text) of Vegas." Hare replies, "Ha ha ha! Now that's what I'm talking about!" The Jack looks over at Scratch, whose eye is shadowed. The Jack asks, "Scratch? Is there something you'd like to do?"]

[Panel 14: Scratch, in profile, brow furrowed in frustration as he cries. The Jack asks from off panel, "(ellipses) Scratch?" End ID]

[lurkingshan]

with such limited options/possibilities for the finale episode of i feel you linger in the air (jom's impending disappearance and khun yai bawling in the garden hugging the air), do you have any specific things/scenes/expectations you hope to see in ep 12?

Not Yai bawling in the garden hugging the air! Oh that’s just too sad to contemplate.

I think there are a few options before us for the ending. Episode 11 closed the main emotional arc of the series: Jom found a purpose, and a true love, and a community, and most importantly, the desire to keep on living. Even if he can’t be with Yai anymore, I believe he will be okay and the experience he’s had in the past will bolster him and give him confidence to rebuild his life back in the future.

As for the romance, well. As I mentioned way back before this show began, with time travel narratives sad and ambiguous endings are always on the table. We’ve been given no reason to believe that the Yai he knows in this time and place would have any way to follow him to the future, we know Jom does not have control over his ability to move through time, and we have been told that he will disappear by the will of whatever magic brought him here in the first place when the time is right. So I really doubt these two will be able to be together. We also know there are several doppelgängers in play and that at least some of the characters in the past have one in the present (Yai seems to have had one in an even more distant past). We still don’t know if these are past live incarnations of the future folks and if this is tied to reincarnation, but that seems likely to me. And there is no indication that the doppelgängers have conscious awareness of their other iterations.

I foresee one of three endings:

Jom will return to the future and eventually meet a doppelgänger of Yai. It will not be the same Yai, but perhaps a person who shares his soul, so it’s about as happy an ending as you can get with this set up. This feels most likely to me.

Jom will return to the future and there is no Yai doppelgänger waiting for him there; the lovers are separated indefinitely. We see Jom looking at his sketches and historical documents to find a trace of Yai, and everybody cries. This feels a bit less likely but still possible.

A secret third thing that will blow my mind.

Regardless of the romance ending, I just hope the finale is able to stay true to the beauty of episode 11, which was such a poignant close to Jom’s time in the past. And I hope we leave all the past characters in a good place, with Yai going to Europe as planned, Eung Phueng getting the safe abortion and life away with Maey she deserves, Fong Kaew finding peace, and Ming, Prik, James and the rest all as okay as they can be given the time and place they live. And I would love to see the new life Jom builds for himself in the future and be reassured that he is happy there.