#and then they just stare at each other????? absolutely disgusting. i miss them so much

[yesokayiknow]

what are ur fav feral Clara moments

this is an incomplete list but:

The Volcano. i don't need to explain

'die with whoever comes after me' and then he did i love soulmates

actually the whole of those 2 episodes. they're peak feral clara tbh

every single time she threatens to kill missy. because she would, if she had to. if she REALLY wanted to. she would and i think that kind of scares her and kind of excites her (and kind of scares her how much it excites her) but instead she lets her live and she goes along with her plan and just! s9 should've been like s10 we should've had more missy and that's that on that!

forcing 12 to bring someone back from the dead. i know that's grouped with the volcano but the REASON for why she did that is just so wild. do you think for the rest of the season she thought about making him do it again.

all the times she cosplayed as the doctor <3

the entirety of her date with danny. what's wrong with this woman.

lying at the end of death in heaven and then lying AGAIN in last christmas literally up until she physically couldn't anymore. and she would've kept going if she could. the two of them would've just lied to each other forever g o d

yes i KNOW she isn't technically clara but the way oswin snarls exterminate. sorry for being gay

legally i cannot think about the raven i hope you understand

[7nuh]

WAS IT 'CASUAL' WHEN...? — TWST 1ST YEARS

Headcanons on the 'casual' things you do with him that made him wish that there was something more between you.

CW 𓂃 sfw, gn!reader, reader is implied to fit in Deuce's clothes in his part, pining

CHARAS 𓂃 Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt

AN 𓂃 mostly* edited now 😎👍

ACE TRAPPOLA — you slept in the same bed?

Ramshackle isn't exactly known for having the best facilities or furniture, and that is a fact Ace has to make peace with whenever he gets kicked out by Riddle. It's always a little too chilly at night and the floors still creak beneath his feet. Even with a makeover, half of the beds are broken and that stiff couch downstairs is your next best bet at getting some semblance of sleep.

You insisted you really didn't mind sharing a bed at all and Ace took you up on your offer. In his words, "if you say so then!" Just create an invisible partition down the middle and the two of you should be fine. Sure, yeah, that'll be infinitely more comfortable than the couch, and Ace absolutely agrees. He repeats the thought to himself over and over again— this is supposedly the better alternative, isn't it?

Yeah, totally. He tries to convince himself that it's really not a big deal for him to be inches away from you at night and feel your warmth spreading through the sheets. God, you'd think he's a weirdo if you woke up and caught him staring right now, but he could always twist it into a dumb joke about your sleeping face looking like an ogre. Consequently, he would have to watch your face twist in annoyance and pretend he wasn't watching every rise and fall of your chest. He would rather lose his magic entirely than admit the ugly truth and make himself vulnerable to you.

Ace does realize he's being embarrassingly sappy and romantic, and he's disgusted at himself for these thoughts, but he can't help it. He can't change the fact your lips look so soft and your eyelashes are so pretty. This is freaking him out so much more than it should. Does this really mean nothing to you? Do really only see him as a friend? Fine, then the two of you are just friends sharing a bed then!

It's really nothing! Ace was the one who joked about it months ago, after all. But things (and his feelings) have changed and he cannot ignore that. Back then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but now it is and he cannot calm his heart down no matter how hard he tries.

You're right there. It's not the first time he had to share a bed with someone but it's different now because it's you. He did the math and the two of you are only 10 inches apart. Ace almost reaches for you in his weakest moment until he remembers that the two of you are supposedly just two friends sharing a bed. You're doing him a favor by sheltering him for the night, that's all.

Ace retracts his hand right away at the very last second. He might have as well taken the goddamn couch (lest either of you wake up in each other's arms).

DEUCE SPADE — he lent his clothes?

You came here with next to nothing. You had exactly one change of clothes and pocket lint for change, so Deuce, being the righteous and honorable student that he is, decided to lend you some of his clothes for the meantime. It's what a good friend would do! It's a temporary arrangement that would last only until Crowley spares enough change for you to buy another set of uniforms.

But this arrangement drags on for so long even when you have a functional closet and multiple sets of better-fitting clothes. Deuce never really noticed until recently that a third of your (albeit very limited) wardrobe actually belongs to him. But whenever you tug on his sleeves for his latest sweater, he doesn't have the heart to tell you no.

When he went home during break, his mom even noticed that certain sweaters and shirts had gone missing. "I left them at the college," he tells her as to not worry her. It's technically the truth— it's back with you in the college (and you're probably wearing them right now; the mental image is enough to fluster him all of the sudden when it never did before). He has to get them back eventually since those clothes are his. He's sure you wouldn't mind? Right?

Simply asking for them back is the difficult part for Deuce. You're there in front of him wearing one of his older shirts that fit snugly around your figure and he's at a loss for words. It's worn down and outright hideous as hell but the very first thought that comes to mind is that you look good in it.

Ah, yeah. You walk around campus on non-school days wearing his clothes 1/3rd of the time and nobody else knows that those jackets and shirts and sweaters and button-ups are all his. You make even the ugliest ones look good, or maybe it's because you're the wearer and you always looked good to him? Do his eyes need to be checked...? Deuce is tortured by these thoughts while merrily go about your day. You're laughing at something stupid that Grim said and he can't hear anything else. There's a fight in the courtyard but he can't see anything else. There's a midterm tomorrow but he can't think of anything else. You're too distracting.

When you finally do remember to return a shirt or two, Deuce tells you there's really no need to return them. He insists that they're better off with you, but you laugh and remind him that you're no longer the same pathetic charity case you were at the start of the year.

The truth is, your scent still lingers on recently returned shirts. It's the closest he'll get to being skin-to-skin with you, and Deuce is supposed to ignore that but he cannot. Or maybe he's the only one making this weird for the two of you because it doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest (and he's bothered by that).

But when Deuce looks at the recently returned shirts in his hands, he hopes he has a chance. He hopes you think of him as much as he thinks of you. He hopes the odds of him not actually liking you after all make your guts churn and set butterflies in your chest at the same time. He hopes he isn't the only one yearning for used shirts, lingering scents, and ghost touches. But at the same time, you've only ever asked these kinds of favors from him... Deuce doesn't want to assume anything, but a blush creeps upon his cheeks all the same and he continues to hope for more.

JACK HOWL — you played with his ears and tail?

Beastmen weren't a thing back in your world, so seeing them regularly made you morbidly curious about their animalistic features. Jack was easily the best candidate to satisfy your intrusive thoughts because just who else could you ask about this? Leona wasn't exactly an option and Ruggie might rope you into some scheme of his. And Jack owed you a favor, after all, so this is what you decided to ask of him.

Jack's ears twitched— did he hear you correctly? His face scrunches up in confusion because you barely knew each other for you to be asking something like this. How could you ask something so personal from him? It's in your innocently eager expression that he realizes what's going on... you just didn't know. Fine, it should mean nothing to you and thus he agrees to let you pet his tail and ears for five seconds. Maximum.

It's supposed to be a one time thing but he finds him involuntarily offering up his tail whenever you look him like that. He's not even sure how it got to this point. After all, there are romantic connotations of having your tail petted by someone else and... nevermind. Ruggie and Leona have started simultaneously teasing him over it the very moment they caught wind of this peculiar arrangement. It doesn't help that Jack's tail is particularly sensitive and reactive, but he keeps a straight face no matter how much it embarrasses him.

Jack doesn't understand why you're so fascinated by his tail and ears because there are so many others just like him. However, he supposes it's not an entirely terrible feeling, though, to have your fingers absentmindedly rake across his tail and hair as the two of you study. It's relaxing, even, but he won't tell you that. Jack will never tell you that it gives him goosebumps all over and makes him shiver whenever you play with his tail. Or that he's begun wondering what it would be like to have your hands elsewhere, or for him to touch you in similar ways in return.

He doesn't understand why he craves your company but doesn't question it either. All he knows is that your hands are so soft and gentle and that he likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile in satisfaction. And when you hum a soft tune as the gap between the two of you closes, he wonders if he's the only one feeling this tension.

"Again?" Jack huffs. The pretext of this being a silly favor has been long forgotten. He should probably tell you soon that you shouldn't be doing this, but you just look so pleased with yourself when the two of settle down in a lesser-known corner of the library. The routine persists, the cycle continues. Hours later, the both of you have gone through multiple bags of chips, two movies on his laptop, and his tail is now comfortably curled around your abdomen as you read a book and he tends to his beloved cactus.

Again? Jack silently asks himself whenever he sees your face in a crowd. Could the two of you spend hours in a comfortable silence while the unsaid implications haunt him? He's started to ask himself— were you just playing dumb at this point or just plain stupid? Or what if you had known all along and the two of you were just dancing around it?

EPEL FELMIER — you kissed him?

Epel eventually learns to use the way others perceive him to his advantage; there's strength in appearing to be weak and striking when the iron is hot. Still, he couldn't help but wish to be seen for his talents and strength instead of his beauty at the first glance. The first assumption everyone makes of him, for god's sake, is that he's a fragile little thing from a rich family, and, quite frankly, he's sick of it.

So he's secretly delighted when none of his charms worked on you and you yank him by the ear for even attempting. A few curse words and rough shoves later, both of you are on the floor, grappling and wrestling against each other. The two of you are laughing so hard and swearing so loudly that you'll probably wake up the rest of Pomefiore at this rate, but neither of you care. It's just the two of you right now grasping at each other like your life depended on it.

It's a nice change of pace to be openly exchanging insults instead of restraining himself. He enjoys the comfortable rhythm the two of you share— from all the brawls and the bantering and the hugs and to the kisses on the cheek. Yes, kisses. They started as simple thank you's after a few favors here and there, and just one of them is enough to make a mess out of Epel for weeks. Better yet, you only seem to be showering him with more and more of your attention and he relishes in it.

Ah, things are finally working out for him! He found someone he could confide in and he's sure that there's a spark between the two of you. By the end of the year, he might have someone to bring home and brag about to his relatives—

All the momentum halts when he sees you across the hall granting the rest of your friends the same levels of affection. From all the brawls to the bantering to the hugs and the kisses, none of those were ever solely his to take delight upon. It doesn't matter that he opened up to you about all his fears and insecurities because he was never special. You were just the kind of person who got along and felt comfortable with everyone around you, but Epel hates that he has no one to blame but himself. He willingly walked your warmth but it was never his to take.

It finally dawns upon him that you have never seen him in a romantic light and that was why you were so comfortable around him. In retrospect, the bond you two shared was more sibling-like than anything— and believe him when he says he's incredibly grateful that the two of you were that close —but it doesn't make it hurt any less to know that your affections never carried any romantic intentions after he had pinned for you for so long.

Even when he takes a step back, you're cruel in a roundabout way by continuing to be so kind and loving towards him. How was Epel supposed to make sense of your relationship after realizing he misunderstood you...?

And he also hates to admit this, but his self-confidence takes a huge blow from this. Epel genuinely thought he could be loved for who he was based on the time you spent together. It gnaws at him and eats him alive to finally know the truth, and sometimes he wishes he never found out at all.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT — you wrote him love letters?

So, Sebek asked (demanded) to be penpals...

It's all because Lilia told him it would be a good exercise of diplomacy, he insisted. As the young master's bodyguard, he will have to be as courteous as possible even in unpleasant company. He also rationalized, admittedly partly because of you, that forging bonds with magicless humans may be a worthwhile endeavor after all! It's all rather suspicious (and you suspect his real intentions have something to do with your friendship with Malleus), but Sebek has never been one to lie about his intentions. If anything, the popular opinion was that he's a little too honest and should learn a thing or two about holding back.

There's something very unconventional in sending handwritten letters in this day and age of modern technology, but also something very romantic and fantastical— much like the many fictional knights he had read about. It helps a lot that he's not directly confronted by the fact you are very much a magicless human who shouldn't be in NRC whenever he spills out his heart's contents unto multiple pages. It was a way for him to release his frustrations, celebrate his achievements, and talk about the dull, little things thats happened in his day-to-day life to someone who listened.

And listen you did. Turns out, when you're not subjected to his 1000 decibel shouting, Sebek is a rather earnest guy who worked hard and acknowledged others who also worked equally as hard no matter their disposition. To say the least, you understand why Lilia found it so entertaining to tease him.

It completely flies over his head that you had been flirting with him for months through these letters. Your everyday interactions with each other had been completely normal, so how was he supposed to notice?! It takes multiple rereads and many late-night discussions with the other Diasomnia dormers to decode and understand all the double entendres and hidden 'i love you's' in each and every letter. It was so needlessly difficult, but Lilia laughs in his face and pats him at the back for a job well-done.

"There's no way," he thinks to himself late at night and finds himself doubting Lilia's claims for once. But when Sebek steals a glance in your direction and you smile back in return, he's never felt weaker in his knees. You're absolutely and undeniably magic-less... but somehow you had casted a spell that made his chest tighten and shut him up. He hadn't even realized how much time he was spending with you and thinking about you when he wasn't.

Except nothing has changed in-person. You're acting like you hadn't meticulously hidden your affections for him in those letters, and he was starting to seriously doubt all of it. Yeah, were you event smart enough to pull off all that? As some magic-less human?

Actually... Sebek realizes that you are capable of outsmarting him after getting to know you much better through those letters. He's never been one to deny where credit it was due. Now, Sebek's just deeply ashamed that he failed to accurately assess your character before making judgements based on superficial traits. He knows better than anyone that you're witty, charming, brave, kind, beautiful, ambitious—

Oh no.

Oh no.

Sebek simply explodes on the spot once he realizes that he had been oblivious to his own feelings for you too. He had thoroughly examined every aspect of this conundrum except from within. Quite embarrassing from an esteemed knight of the prince of nocturnal fae to be this slow, really.

[misserabella]

Filthy Rich

Spencer Reid x Fem! reader PT.1

pt2! pt3!

✧ Synopsis;; Spencer Reid was filthy rich, for he was royalty. Handsome, charming and a gentleman, a dream dressed in pure silk for any kind of woman. But not you.

✧ y/n is a mere slave of a nobel family who just turned 22. On the night of the prince’s royal ball she is dragged against her will to this dance just to be used as a coat rack for the purses and coats of the family ladies, who, of course, treat her like absolute sh’t, to the point where they could agreed to hand her over for a generous amount of gold.

“Just name your price, sweetheart.”

“Screw you, my prince.”

Just how lucky you were for had caught the

prince’ s attention!

< enemies to lovers 3

17th century royalty! inspired by bridgerton!

CW;; this series might include 18+ content (details will be given at the start of each new part uploaded) MINORS DNI AND SKIP!!!

WARNINGS PART ONE: mention of blood, abuse, cursing and slave trafficking.

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

WORD COUNT;; 2k!

Her faced seemed to tell everything: she hated it.

She hated everything. From the music, to the little stupid shoes that clacked against the floor. The floral scent, the wine, the giggles… She hated the ton*. Every single one of them,

Everything. It was a goddamn nightmare.

“y/n! You are letting my coat slip! Do i have to tell you how much it costs?! If you dare let it touch the floor I’ll take the money out of your poor allowance to pay for a new one!” one of the misses glared at you, hitting you in the face with her closed paper fan, its gemstones leaving marks on you cheek.

“We might as well do it anyways, since her filthy hands have touched them already!” her sister laughed, grabbing your face in between her gloved fingers and digging her nails in your skin. “Don’t you think so, y/n? What? Cat got you tongue?” they giggled.

“Children, children!” the woman of the house hushed them with a sweet smile. “You shall never touch her!” she said, taking of the gloves out of her daughters hands to give her a new pair, with a sweet smile telling one of the servants of the castle to burn them. “God knows what she might infect us with!” she laughed, her offsprings following her.

God, you hated her. Her and her stupid daughters. With their stupid dresses and stupid painted faces.

You glared at them, your grip tightening around their belongings, holding your stare and your head up even when the woman stared back at you, her face scrunching in disgust and anger.

“Who do you think you are staring at?!?!” she suddenly yelled, catching the attention of those who enjoyed drinks and company around her, not waiting a mere second to rise her hand and slap you to ‘show you your place’. You took the hits, the metallic flavor of blood filling your mouth due to the continues smacks and hits with the back of her fan. “You filthy ungrateful bitch, you dare stare at us, who give you food and a bed?! I should’ve let you died out in the cold, in the dirt, where you belong to!” you gritted your teeth, your eyes down to the floor as your free hand made its way to your bottom lip, where you felt the skin split, the crimson of fresh blood tinting your frail skin.

“Fucking fussock*.” you cursed her under your breath, loud enough for her to perfectly hear you.

“What did you say?!” her free hand gripped your long and matted locks, making you look into her enraged eyes, her other hand rising up to hit you once again.

Your eyes closed as you expected a new slap, which surprisingly enough never came. The sound of multiple gasps filled your ears and when you opened up your eyes once again, your stomach sank at the sight of…

“Your highness!” everyone suddenly diverted their eyes to the floor, including you, your mistress and her daughters bowed in his presence, the wrist of the first of them all gracefully and softly held by the prince’s, who let her go with a kind smile.

“Is everything alright?” his voice tested the waters, his tone low and soft as the silk he dressed in, his hands jeweled in golden rings joining and intertwining in an elegance you never had witnessed.

“Yes, your highness.” the woman stuttered, showing a nervous smile. “Our slave just seemed to…, misbehave, your highness.” your eyes travelled trough his tall and magnificent demeanor. His fern green suit matched perfectly with the caramel of his skin and his brown and perfectly combed curls.

Your eyes quickly darted always as he had caught you staring once he had turned to you. He fought the lopsided smirk that urged to grow in his lips, stepping closer to where you stood.

He took a glance at the ragged clothes that hid your bruised and malnourished body, probably due to the family’s treatment under your care, your matted hair, cut up hands…

His warm touch spread on your skin as he took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, softly trying to rise your head up, but you denied him, in a harsh turn of head freeing yourself from his touch before giving him a glare.

A new wave of gasps filed the air as you stared right into his eyes, him holding your glare.

You didn’t care if he was a noble or pure royalty. Those ‘pure blood’ were all the goddamn same. With their leather shoes and gold jewelry, fancy words and silk dresses and suits. Their appearance was only a pretty facade that hid the ugliness of their insides.

You hated all of them. Might as well just get your head off as soon as possible.

“You slave! How is it ye dare to stare at the prince, soon king?!” a brunette and tall man talked, you recognized him as the pince’s right hand, but only with a wave of this hand, he stood silent beside the prince.

“Huh…” the smile he had been trying to fight off finally took place on his gracefully sculpted face and full rosy lips. “Interesting.” once again he took a soft grasp to your face, this time not letting you go even if you fought him off. His eyes took everything your face offered him, from your perfect nose to you long eyelashes and your beautiful fierce eyes, which stared at him with pure hatred and anger. “How much?” he suddenly asked, still not drifting his eyes away from you.

The woman stood frozen in place, just like her daughters.

“What does your highness mean with…-”

“How much would you want for her?” he cut her off, the deadly silent that fell on the salon almost giving you chills.

What was he saying?

“Your highness, I can’t…” she was short of breath and words. “I surely doubt thee would want her under your care, she…”

“I don’t care about any of it. Name a price.” everyone was shocked by the situation. Buying and selling slaves was something quite common, that’s how your current ‘family’ have got you, but this…

The prince? Has he gone nuts?

“Your highness, I don’t think…” the prince’s counselor stepped in, shutting up once again as soon as he gave him a glance.

“50 gold coins.” the woman suddenly blurted out, everyone’s jaws dropping at the audacity of the woman and such large figure.

“Mother!” her offsprings whispered-yelled. Not believing her words.

50 gold coins?!

You scoffed, smirking at such nonsense, not noticing the staring of the prince due to your reaction.

She wished you were worth that much. He would never…

“Make it 150.” he closed the deal.

“Your highness!” the counselor exclaimed, completely alarmed.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Gideon.” he hushed the man with his soft hazel eyes.

You watched as the woman who once abused you and starved you for days fainted due to the prince’s words and his daughters kneeling down to help her followed by some of the nearby guests, fanning her pale sleeping face.

You too felt like fainting.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweetheart.” the prince caught your attention once again, when your eyes met a smile growing on his lips. “All you need to do from now on keep your eyes on me.”

“Get off of me!” you screamed at the servants that tried and strip you out of your clothes, pushing their hands away. “I said stop!”

“Miss, they’re orders from your highness.” one of them spoke, her blue eyes soft on you. “He wanted us to help you bathe and and get rid of your dirty clothes.” she explained.

“I don’t care about what he said.” you scoffed. “If he wanted me undressed so fast why isn’t he the one taking my clothes off?” they all gasped at your words and no respect to the prince.

You didn’t care though, they were all the same anyways. Always reaks* that just wanted to have women swoon at their feet. Maybe that’s why he had bought you, just to use you when his cock got cold.

Suddenly, the door on your back opened, the heads of the servants quickly lowering as your eyes met the prince’s.

“Oh, fantastic…” you muttered. Just what you needed at the moment.

“You heard her, ladies. You are all dismissed.” he smiled at every and each one of them, bowing and moving aside with a swing of his arm on the door to let them out, all of them bowing and giggling.

And weren’t you just right?

“Great. And what do I have the honor of your highness’ presence for?” you sarcastically inquired him once he had closed the door behind his back, noticing…, ‘Gideon’ outside. “Got too excited due your new acquisition to just wait?” you mocked him.

“I heard you were putting up a fight.” he smiled, ignoring your words whilst looking at you up and down. “Is there something not to your liking, perhaps?”

“‘Not to my liking’?” you scoffed. “I can’t believe you.” you shook your head, grasping at your locks as you stared at him in disbelief. “How about this whole goddamn situation? I mean, look at this!” you pointed out everything that surrounded you, the whole bathroom with a gigantic bathtub of quartz, marble floors and pillars… “A few hours ago I was being used as a coat hanger in your ball and now I’m in a bathroom with the prince, who, surprisingly enough, bought me for 150 golden coins god knows why?!” you exclaimed.

He stared at you with a funny look in his eyes. His back against the door as his eyebrows raised at you.

“What.” you spit out, a glare in your eyes.

“Nothing, is just that…” he stepped closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t seem to…, respect me.” he frowned, his voice low. “Not like all of them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, your highness, for not being another dog licking your leather boots.” you bowed, more of his steps growing closer to you until his thumb took your chin, rising your head up so you could meet his eyes, his face stood serious for a couple of seconds, before a downside smirk grew on his factions. “Why haven’t you cut my head off yet?” you inquired him, not really understanding his behavior. By the way you treated him, any other prince would have already gotten you to the guillotine.

“Why shall I?” he answered with another question, his thumb caressing the wound on your bottom lip, the still fresh blood that stood on it staining his thumb as you hissed in pain, getting away.

You stared at him in confusion.

Yeah. He was absolutely nuts.

“The water will go cold if you don’t get in soon.” he said, drifting off the matter while whipping off your blood from his thumb with his handkerchief. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off those ragged clothes?”

“This is the only dress I’ve had, sir.” you said, his eyes meeting yours.

“What’s your favorite color?” you frowned at his sudden question, which made absolutely no sense. He made no sense. “Crimson, like the purest blood? The forest’s green? The ocean’s blue, perhaps?”

“I’ve never seen the forest nor the ocean, sir. I’ve never left the capital. Though I find the sky’s blue on spring pretty wonderful, not sure it does justice to the ocean’s.”

“It doesn’t.” he said, sitting in the edge of the bathtub, his fingers taunting the warm water. “The ocean is cold, and fierce…, untamable. But it can also be warm, and calm, and soft.” he tried to explain, and from your point of view it didn’t make sense.

It didn’t make sense but you found it…

“It must be beautiful.” you said, him flashing you a soft smile before nodding.

“It is.” he got up clapping his hands together before looking back at you. “Well then, you should really hurry up, the water is perfect.”

“I already told thee, this dress is the only-“

“You won’t need it anymore.” he cut you off.

“And why is that?” you inquired, his steps growing closer to you.

“Because from now on…” he said, catching one of your locks in between his fingers. “You belong in this castle.”

To be continued…

*fussock; a lazy fat woman…, a frowzy old woman.

*the ton; the ton actually refers to English high society during the Regency era, and encompasses every aristocrat from the royals to the gentry.

*rake; ‘rake’ is used to describe an immoral, hedonistic young man circulating in high society.

[gallusrostromegalus]

On God I was working on the AEIWAM Outline today but I also got "The AEIWAM cast, post-fic, go to the Aquarium" brainrot so have this:

It kicks off with Retsu seeing Kenpachi deep in thought for once and asking him what he's mulling over and after a moment he asks: "Are there zoos for fish?" "...Pardon?" "There are lotsa fish," he reasons, "-at least as many as there are land animals, but they're all really hard to see, because they're in the water." Retsu considers him for a moment before gently asking "Do you mean The Aquarium?" "The what?"

Retsu, texting Ichigo in the Gotei-13 Groupchat at 2AM: I need you to acquire tickets and human chaperones for a group field trip to The Aquarium Ichigo, who fears her above everyone else in soul society: Yes, Captain. Retsu: If it was just the SWA I'd only ask for tickets but you know what The Lads are like. Ichigo: Unfortunately, Yes. Ichigo: I'll bring the first aid kit, zip ties, duct tape and candy. Retsu: Good man.

Upon Arrival, Kenpachi has already been lectured about "You ARE NOT ALLOWED to fight and/or eat the fish, no matter how annoying and/or delicious they look

Turns out they were lecturing the wrong guy because it's Byakuya that develops a personal rivalry with a grouper ("It's smug expression disgusts me." "Captain that is a FISH.") and has to be talked out of climbing into the tank to fight it

after that he has to hold hands with Rukia or Renji.

Rukia discovers Sea Bunnies and ends up crying about them.

Yachiru gets to see them feeding the Piranha and it's a Spiritual Experience for her.

Later, she gets to see them feed the sharks and it's an EVEN BETTER spiritual Experience.

Hitsugaya learns Penguins are real and not just 'made up for christmas, like the flying reindeer and the guy with the suspect toy charity'.

Momo lights into him about "Penguins are my favorite animal, they've been my favorite animal for decades YOU THOUGHT THEY WERE FAKE?" Hitsugaya: "YOU ALSO USED TO LIKE UNICORNS!" Momo: "THOSE ARE ALSO REAL!" Orihime: "They are?" Momo: "...I keep forgetting they're extinct in the living world."

Tousen gets to experience the Touch Pool and the docents realize what's up so they start pulling out the cool stuff like sea hares and moray eels because he's an adult that can be trusted to pet things gently.

When the group comes back to collect him the staff is letting him hand feed a Pacific Red Octopus, and Yachiru immediately demands she be allowed to as well.

Retsu quietly releases Minazuki into the stingray touch pool so she can "go play with her cousins :)"

Kenpachi and Yamamoto asking "Can we eat it?" about every. single. animal.

The extremely dedicated docent that is *just* Psychic enough to know something is up with this group of chucklefucks so they're following them through the aquarium, but is also genuinely having fun answering every fucking insane question these guys ask.

Yoruichi was not anticipating there to be Tigers at the aquarium (they ARE semi-aquatic and part of a larger exhibit on Tropical Riparian Ecosystems) and she is SUPER NOT JEALOUS of how much Urahara and Baby Labcat like them.

There is also an exhibit with an Anaconda that the docent finds Rangiku staring at with a forlorn expression. Docent: "It's okay, not everyone is a fan of snakes." Rangiku: "What? Oh, no, I love snakes. They just also remind me of my Ex." Docent: *WomanTryingToDoMath.Meme* Docent: *Considers the size of the Anaconda* Docent: "...Ah. Yeah, I'd miss a man like that too."

Renji, Ichigo and Ikkaku going "Its YOU!" to each other over every single red, orange or round creature.

Kenpachi going "IT ME!!" about the black urchins before anyone can get him though.

Shunsui pointing at the sea otters that are holding hands and declaring, tears in his eyes "Jushiro! It's US!" Ukitake then prompty ruins the moment by telling Shunsui Fun Facts about Sea Otters like how they're basically giant marine weasels that will absolutely drown each other's young and maul anyone dumb enough to touch one.

The Dolphins all love Komamura and he is just a little bit smug about this.

Relatedly, not sure if its funnier for Komamura to show up in a Human Gigai, or as Tousen's "Service Dog"

Human Gigai: -Komamura is weirdly stony-faced and sort of intimidating and everyone thinks he's stressed out but really he's used to making micro-expressions and gesturing with his ears so he sorta just forgot how to move his face. -Still Nine and a Half feet tall and smacking his head on Everything

Service Dog: -"He's uh. A Shepherd. Mix." Ichigo says to the aforementioned Docent about what is very obviously a Bigass Timber Wolf. -Sajin doesn't give a rat's ass about his cover and keeps talking to Tousen while in dog form. If anyone looks at him funny he makes direct eye contact and says "Woof. Bark."

Yamamoto vs. Escalator. Catastrophic Beard Incident. 2 injured, 16 Dead but they were like that already.

Ukitake, Retsu, and Tama all Not Shutting Up With Facts About Every Fish Ever because they all share a Special Interest.

They briefly lose Byakuya in the Jellyfish exhibit because Rukia and Renji both thought the other one was holding Byakuya's hand and he is *enchanted* by the wall-sized tank of Moon Jellies.

Ikkaku attempting to talk Yachiru out of getting the ridiculously oversized Great White Shark plushie only for Zaraki to get it for both of them instead.

Everyone had a great time and is Very Tired and so they don't realize anything is amiss until they get back to Ichigo's place and the nightly news comes on. "Hey ichigo?" Yuzu calls. "Why is Ms. Unohana on TV?" The news has a story with a still image of Retsu on CCTV and "Authorities are looking for this woman who somehow ADDED a fully intact and highly venomous short-tailed stingray to the aquarium's touch pool" "OH MY GOD WE FORGOT MINAZUKI!"

[theaawalker]

Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x male!reader Song Inspo: Call Me By Your Name by Lil Nas X Word Count: 1,394 Summary: You've seen Finnick around, often through pitying eyes, but haven't spoken to him. The times you have seen, he's either with a client (flirting) or leaving them (shaking with shame, rage, and disgust). You decide to make him feel something real and mutually pleasurable. Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), emotional build-up, MxM, one-shot, begging, substance usage, cursing, narrator pov Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly) A/N: This is not attached to "I Promise", my other Finnick imagine. The second part will be here shortly. Just adding a little twist to the end. *smirks villainously* In the meantime, here's some gay smut to tickle your tentacles. Peep the easter egg tho ;)

You and Finnick have your first real conversation when he’s arriving back at the Tribute center one night after spending an upsetting few hours with one of Snow’s clients. He’s in a foul mood, anger bordering on despair and self-hatred, still feeling the ghosts of unwanted fingers on his body, when he steps into the elevator and finds you smoking a joint.

"Shit, shit!” you curse, hiding the joint up your sleeve and coughing, waving your hands in the air like you can disperse the smell. “Sorry, someone was smoking in here before,” you lie.

Finnick can’t help himself. He laughs. “Give me a hit and I won’t tell anyone.”

You share the joint in the elevator, not hitting any button to go up to either of your floors. The chatter comes easy with both of you, but it’s not long before you’re stepping over friendly small talk into a genuine conversation about the wild shit you’ve seen in the Capitol and in your case, at home, too. District 2 loves to rub elbows with the Capitol, something you despise. Your comparisons and imitations have Finnick barking laughter.

During one of the lulls in conversation, he takes in your face and form, basking in the fact that he’s responsible for the smile on your face right now. He’d like to get to know you better, and fuck it, maybe he’s a little horny right now, too.

“Come to my floor?” he asks, the joint between his fingers. He takes a slow drag, watching you.

You stare at his lips as he exhales. God, the high must be hitting because all you want to do is cover his lips with yours. Like, it’s the only thought rattling around in your peanut brain. His lips curl into a smile and--Oh, shit. He asked you a question.

“Sure,” you answer.

One expression Finnick identifies all too easily is lust. And he sees it plain on your face. “Then let’s go.”

Finnick leads you to the lounge on the fourth floor, well away from the bedrooms. The giant windows let in light from the Capitol’s nightlife.

“I miss the stars,” you say once you’re both settled next to each other on a loveseat. “It’s not like there are a ton of them back home with all the light pollution, but still. There are more than here.”

Finnick gazes at the dark sky. “You should come to District 4 sometime. You can see the entire Milky Way. And instead of listening to all those cars you listen to the ocean. And you can forget everything for a few moments.”

Despite the lounge being much, much larger than the elevator, this feels far more intimate. Finnick and you face each other, your eyes flicking to his lips. He’s the Capitol sex icon and has always acted like an absolute peacock on camera, but you’ve seen him trying so hard mentoring his own tributes and taking care of Mags. There’s a lot more depth to him than what the cameras show. And you like the bits he shows off camera far, far more. Those bits are coming out tonight; a funny, deeply caring, deeply hurt young man with a vast capacity for kindness.

When he came into the elevator, he looked positively miserable and so, so defeated. Like he had been stomped on and ground down. You wanted to make him smile, a real smile, but then you couldn’t stop at just one, and now here you are. You know about his and Snow’s “arrangement”. You also know you can treat him better than any of the “clients” do even when they’re trying, and you wonder if he’ll let you treat him like that.

Your intense stare has Finnick shifting, feeling a few degrees hotter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally ask, voice low. If there’s one thing being a Career has taught you, it’s to grab at any opportunity you see. Finnick swallows. “Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”

You lean forward and capture his lips, one hand on the back of the couch and the other securely in your lap. You’re close and leaning into him, but not holding him. The restraint surprises him at first. But he’s grateful for it and he relaxes. He sinks into the kiss, his own hands venturing to fist in your shirt collar and hold you there. You let him lead, let him feel your arms and touch your face and chest, but never move your own hands from their position, just pour your all into your lips against his.

The lights flick on. You and Finnick snap apart like a rubber band snapping back into shape. It’s Mags. She looks between you both with wide eyes before a mischevious smile breaks across her face. “No, no, Mags,” Finnick protests.

She winks, grinning, and flicks the lights back off. She exits.

Finnick groans. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

You grin and wink. “Well, if you’re never going to hear the end of it, we may as well make it worth it, right?”

His seafoam eyes lock on yours, an eyebrow lifting. He smirks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “I’d like to suck you off.”

All thoughts leave his head and all blood flows straight to his groin. For once, he’s speechless. No one has ever offered this before. All the people he spends time with want his attention on them, want him to fawn over them, wants him to boost their egos with his attention. And if they did off, he’d wonder what they want in return. Exactly like he’s wondering right now. He should ask, but his brain is too focused on the thought of your lips around his dick. Does he really care what happens after as long as he gets what he wants, first?

At his silence you withdraw. “Only if you want me to, of course,” you add. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable.

“Yes,” he hastily replies. “Yes. I’d love you to suck me off.”

That affirmation is all you need. You kneel in front of him and slowly unzip his pants, revealing plain boxers beneath. Finnick watches you, his heart pounding. With agonizingly slow movements, you touch his length and guide it through the gap in his boxers. He grips the cushions of the loveseat as you lick up the underside of his member, from the base to the tip. Your tongue is deliciously wet. Finally, you take Finnick into your mouth and work him slow, slow, slow. One hand balls into a fist on his leg and the other slips in your hair. He moans, a low sound that barely reaches your ears.

You can’t believe no one has ever done this before. You’ve barely started, and he looks absolutely wrecked and so goddamned pretty. His head falls back against the loveseat and he lets out a shaky breath.

Fisting him, you take your mouth off to quip, “Have I made the Finnick Odair speechless?”

He huffs a laugh, meeting your gaze. “Just wait until I have you on your back and—oh.” His words end in a strangled moan as you suck his head. You ease him a little bit further into the rhythm before you deep-throat him. By then both hands tangle in your hair and he’s whimpering and trembling, muscles taut. “Fuck. Fuck.” It’s so warm, so hot, feels so, so good.

He comes shortly after, cock hot and stiff in your mouth, his entire body rigid. As he comes down from his high he melts into the couch, both his hands gently tugging at your head. “Get up,” he pants. You comply and stand, bracing your arms on either side of his head, and kiss him. There it is again, that restraint.

“Touch me,” he moans. “Please.” He might combust if you don’t.

You obey and cup his cheeks. His hands mimic yours, holding your face to his while you kiss. His stomach feels warm and body completely relaxed, for once completely in the moment, his brain pleasantly quiet.

He opens his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You press your forehead to his, cheeks hot. God, there’s so much you want to do to him, with him, but not tonight. “You can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep,” you answer.

What? He knows he heard you right, but what? “That’s not what I meant,” he says hesitantly. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“I know.” You brush back a lock of his hair. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you or you fuck me and make out well into the morning, you taking care of yourself is what I want the most. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”

Finnick can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “I promise.” He feels almost bashful. How do you know what he needs? Beneath your soft gaze he feels vulnerable and open, and while it’s foreign, it’s not unwelcome.

You smile at him, a brilliant smile that lights up the night. “Thank you.”

You’re thanking him. You just gave him a blowjob and you’re thanking him. Who the fuck are you?

After exchanging a few more minutes of sweet nothings, you leave to head to your floor. Finnick stays on the loveseat a while longer, smiling, watching the twinkling lights of the Capitol. The content expression gradually falls from his face and he sinks into the reality that is his life. At least this has been a sliver of good in what is his constant parade of masking for the Capitol. Maybe he can have a few more of those slivers when you’re around. He’s certainly going to try to grab the chances when they present themselves.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[remusluvr]

everywhere, everything | remus lupin

summary: After smoking with Remus, neither of you can get enough of the other. content: smoking weed, f oral, sex, high sex

Remus can't help it. He can't help the way he stares at you, eyes glazed over. You're standing over by the window, joint in hand and much too far for his liking. So, it shouldn't be a surprise when he can't help but walk over to you. His arms wrap around your waist as his chin comes down on your shoulder.

"Thought you said you were done?" you giggle, turning to look at him. He smiles up at you, hands brushing up and down your sides.

"I am. I just missed you," he mumbles, pressing kisses onto your shoulder and neck. You squirm underneath him and he whines.

"What's gotten into you?" you tease, letting him do whatever he wants. His lips are fire on your skin as heat rises up to your cheeks. He kisses a trail up to your ear, biting at it. You're already breathing so hard that when his hand slides up your side to hold your neck, you're a goner for him.

"Just missed my girl. She looks so pretty, could just eat her up," he whispers, reaching to take the joint from you and putting it out in the ashtray. He pushes against you as he does, letting you feel him. It's too much and too little and the fact that you're high is making you more sensitive than usual. You turn around facing his chest. "Hi, sweetheart."

He looks so pretty with his freckled face and red-rimmed eyes. One could only compare him to Adonis. Anything he did had you smitten with him more and more each day. And when he leans down, pressing his lips to yours, you're absolutely gone.

You don't even have to say anything before he's guiding you backward toward the couch and pulling you down onto his lap. His hands can't stay still, touching everywhere he can. You pull away from his kiss gasping, lips swollen and red.

"Can't wear these shorts around me again, you look too good. I can't focus on anything else," he sighs, head falling back on the couch.

"If you want them off of me so bad then take them off," you breathe, grinding down on his lap. It's like a flip in him changes at your words. His hands are so grabby as he maneuvers you out of the god-forbidden shorts. You're shocked they don't rip in the process.

Pushing you back against the arm of the couch, he positions himself between your legs. Kisses cover every inch of your thighs as he works his way up to where he wants to be the most. It's too much teasing for you needing each other this bad.

"Been wanting to do this the whole night," he whispers, mostly to himself. It's hard not to feel loved when you're with Remus. His hands part your legs even further, pushing them slightly up to your chest. Your underwear is pulled taut over your cunt but he leans in anyway, tonguing over the wet patch on the fabric. The action leaves you dizzy but he needs you, not your underwear and it's not long until he's ripping them off of you, leaving you to kick them off of your ankle.

"Rem," you whine when he finally gets to what you've been wanting. His tongue starts tantalizingly slow but your hands tangle into his hair anyway, a breathy moan on your lips. He swears this is the most needy he's ever felt. But you're on the same page and he loves it.

The sounds he makes should be disgusting but they only fuel the both of you. Remus loves eating pussy, loves doing it so much that he doesn't care about anything else while he's in between your legs. You overwhelm all of him and the only thing he can think about is making you cum.

He moans as you squirm and yank on his hair and it only drives you closer to your orgasm. You don't have to tell him how close you are, he just knows. His chin is dripping by the time you cum, his hand pressing down on your stomach, not stopping his attack on your pussy until he's sure you're all done.

Wiping his chin with his arm absentmindedly, he kisses his way up your stomach, stopping to flick his tongue over your breasts before he finally reaches your lips.

"Fuck, I think I'm obsessed with you," he laughs, letting his forehead fall against yours. You laugh with him, arms wrapping around his neck and running your fingers through his hair.

"You better be because I know that I'm obsessed with you." You can feel his smile against your neck. "Remmy, can I ride you please?"

He's never moved so fast to take his pants off. Teasingly, you whine about him still having a shirt on and pull at the hem. He listens, tossing it off to the side somewhere.

"Go ahead, baby," he sighs, helping you sink down on his lap. "F-fuck, ah, so good to me."

Your hands rake down his scarred chest. He's a goner when you lean down and kiss them. His eyes roll to the back as you clench around him. Laying down on his chest, he wraps his arms around you, doing all the work for you. He knows how his girl gets tired so easily.

You suck at his jawline, hands grabbing at his hair to tug on it. It drives him wild and he helps you bounce on him faster. Your neighbors must hate you. He can never control his volume. And it only gets worse as he gets closer.

Panting and whining and moaning. He can't keep any of it in. Not when you feel so good around him and are saying such sweet things in his ear.

"S-so big, love y-you so much," you moan, tightening your hold around him. Your orgasm comes up on you quick. Before you can even realize it's coming, it's there and you digging your nails into his shoulders as he fucks you through it. It's too much for him and it hits him hard, leaving him moaning through his. You don't even care that he's cum inside of you, a problem for another time. You just feel so incredibly close to him right now. "Don't move."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart."

[pandorxxx]

Search & Rescue (Chapter 1)

Lo’ak x omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: Cursing, hints at depression, heavy drinking, mentions of sex, a lot of sexual tension, fluff.

Synopsis: Lo’ak has a bit of a reputation that he’s been trying so hard to break out of. He just needs the right girl to come and rescue him. Looks like he found her tonight.

For the best experience, listen to Ozone by Chase Atlantic

“Damn, this party is live tonight.” Lo’ak chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. He stood next to Neteyam and his mate, as they cuddled up next to each other by the drink table.

“Mhm.” Neteyam hummed, completely focused on his mate before bending down to give her a kiss, and she obliged ofcourse. Lo’ak snapped his head at them in complete disgust.

“Booo! Get a fucking room!” Lo’ak leaned over, shouting into Neteyams ear. Neteyam detached his lips from his mate, giving lo’ak a death stare.

“Go find some business. Better yet, go find a NICE girl. Moms sick of the whores you bring home.” Neteyam spat, turning his mate in his arms, bringing her back into his embrace.

“I’m not thinking about a mate right now, bro. I’m just…scoping the land.” He smirked, watching a group of girls walk past him.

“Hi, ladies.” He spoke in his melodic tone, eyeing them up and down with his predatory gaze. “Hey, lo’ak.” They all giggled, speaking in unison. He watched them walk away, burning wholes in their backsides, making sure he didn’t miss anything.

“And that’s exactly what you DONT want to bring home. Haven’t you fucked ALL of those girls?” Neteyam asked, swaying his mate back and forth.

“So? What’s your point?” Lo’ak asked, taking another sip of his drink, looking out into the crowd. “My point is, that’s toxic. Find ONE girl!” Neteyam chuckled, picking his drink up from behind him to take a sip.

“I think I’ve given myself too much of a reputation. She wouldn’t give me a chance even if I tried.” Lo’ak spoke but immediately regretted it. No one knew that he actually did have his eyes set on someone in particular.

“SHE? Oh my eywa! Who? Give me all the details!” Neteyam’s mate spoke excitedly, so happy that lo’ak had a clue of who he wanted to spend his life with.

“gIVe mE AlL tHe deTAilS!…absolutely not. You talk too much!” Lo’ak joked, chuckling as he unintentionally blew his cover, staring directly at you, dancing with your friends in the crowd. All of those girls, and he only saw you. It’s like everyone else disappeared. Everything about you made his heart pound. Especially tonight. You must’ve just taken your braids out right before arriving. Your hair was curly, flowing down your back just how he liked. You wore cloths woven with beautiful crystals, a little more revealing than usual.

You had a thigh band on that matched your outfit. And all lo’ak could think about was pulling it down your leg with his teeth. Ripping your cloths off to reveal your beautiful body. Nuzzling his head into your gorgeous hair, to rid the scent of any other girl left on him. He wanted to be saved, rescued from his continuous cycle. He just couldn’t seem to find the right girl who would take him seriously as a mate. But he knew that was his own fault, he built this reputation for himself, and it was hard to break it down.

“You’re so obvious IDIOT!” Neteyam’s mate laughed, snapping him out of his trance.

“Huh? W-What are you going on about now?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, not being able to look away from you, not even for a second.

“Ohhh y/n, huh? Now that’s the definition of a nice girl. And she’s one of the best warriors in training. She’d be good for you.” Neteyam spoke, smiling before planting a kiss on his mates head.

“Yeah, but will I be good for her is the question. I-I don’t wanna fuck it up with her. I CAN’T fuck it up with her. Shes different bro. The “bring home to mom” type you were talking about earlier. She’s so fucking sweet too. Strong, intelligent, and drop dead gorgeous. Why the fuck would she choose me? I’m a trouble maker, an outcast. And shes…..perfect.” Lo’ak confessed before downing the rest of his drink, grabbing the bottle from behind him to fill his cup to the top.

“Lo’ak having…FEELINGS??? Oh my eywa!” Neteyam spoke sarcastically. “How about you just go talk to h-“ Neteyam started before stopping abruptly.

“I’m not going over there! Not until I’m full of alcohol to calm me the fuck d-“ lo’ak started, turning around to be met with you, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

“Hey, lo’ak.” You spoke with your sweet voice, smiling up at him. He was completely stunned, First time he was speechless when it came to girls. He looked down at you, completely tranced by your beauty.

“Hi…” he said emotionless, too focused on getting lost in your eyes. He wanted to drown in them, wanted you to trap him so he wouldn’t have to keep living his life recklessly.

Neteyam and his mate looked at eachother with a lighthearted smile before turning back to the beautiful scene infront of them. Lo’ak….falling in love.

“Well, since you’re in the way. Think you can pour me a drink?” You asked jokingly, nudging your head to the table behind him.

“Umm..i-I uhh-“ he stuttered, tail wagging aggressively behind him, giving away his true feelings without a single word. You giggled, hiding your face with your hand. He shook his head, snapping out of your hypnotic gaze.

“I-im sorry. Umm, sure! Sure, I can pour you a drink.” He spoke in a low tone, grabbing your hand bringing you closer to the table before he turned around to look at the drinks.

“Which one did you want, pretty girl?” He spoke with a small smile, glancing at you before looking back down at the options. Your stomach filled with butterflies at the nickname. Sure, he might’ve called other girls pretty, and you knew that. But it didn’t take away from the fact that he was talking to YOU in this moment.

“Uhhh, whatever is in your cup.” You said, taking the cup out of his hand. “Can I actually just…have yours?” You asked innocently, looking into his eyes. He watched you intently, eyebrow cocked with a light grin.

“You don’t even know what it is, y/n. Taste it first, see if you like it.” He chuckled, untwisting the bottle of the same drink, pouring himself another cup.

“I trust you…” you spoke with a smile, making lo’ak whip his head back to you. He watched you down the drink, small drips flowing out the corner of your mouth, trickling all the way down your chest. You slammed the cup down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“See? I trust you.” You giggled. And just like that, you had him in a trance for the 3rd time tonight. He eyed you up and down, bringing his cup to his mouth, taking a sip before setting it back on the table. He faced you, stepping dangerously close, but you didn’t move. Just stared up into his eyes.

“You’ve got alittle something right here. May I?” He asked, holding his thumb out to wipe your neck. You nodded, not even a word needed to be said. The tension between you two was undeniable. He wrapped his hand around your neck very gently, using his thumb to wipe the access alcohol off of you. You two stared into each others eyes the entire time. Hearts beating in sync as he stepped an inch closer. He detached his hand from your neck, licking his thumb clean.

“Much better.” He spoke in a melodic tone, rattling your eardrums just right. And there you were, falling for his charm just like every other girl. You snapped out of it, crossing your arms, looking up at him with an all-knowing glare.

“No.” Was all you said, shaking your head. “No?” He asked, tilting his head, eyes narrowed in confusion. “I won’t be another one of your one night stands. I refuse!” You raised your voice, pushing him in the chest with a single finger.

“It’s not like that, I swear.” He spoke softly, blinking back tears. His heart sank that you believed he just wanted one thing from you. He couldn’t blame you, but he wished you would just hear him out.

“Yes it is! What? Trying to seduce me or something? Like you do with all the others?” You asked angrily. “I’m not that kind of girl.” You spat, mean mugging him.

“I-I know you’re not that kind of girl, y/n. I wasn’t trying to seduce you or anything like that, I swear. I- I just…like you a lot. I can’t help myself around you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rambled, trying his best to convince you that he didn’t mean anything by his actions.

“Suuuure! And I’m supposed to believe you, right? I know you, lo’ak. I know all of your little tricks. And IM NOT FALLING FOR THEM! Got it?” You snapped, gesturing angrily with your hands. He sighed, staring down at you in defeat.

“I get it, y/n.” He spoke in a defeated tone. Ears flat, as he shifted his head down to the ground, blinking back tears again before standing to face you. Your expression softened slightly, watching a single tear fall to the ground before he quickly wiped his eyes.

“Lo’ak?” You asked in shock, reaching up to grab the side of his cheek. He grabbed your wrist gently, placing your hand back to your side.

“No, you’re right. It’s my fault for giving you that impression. I don’t blame you.” He smiled weakly, his puffy eyes telling a different story.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” You said in a apologetic tone, caressing his strong arm. He shook his head, sniffling as if he was sick.

“It’s fine. I’ve gotta go.” He fake smiled, grabbing the entire bottle of alcohol before walking off. “Wait! LO’AK I-“ you shouted, watching him walk off through the crowd of people. You sighed, shutting your eyes tightly before opening them to see Neteyam and his mate in shock.

“What’s wrong with him? Didn’t know he had feelings to hurt.” You spoke in a defeated tone, watching lo’ak drown himself in alcohol from across the forest.

“He has feelings. He just doesn’t know how to express them verbally. Everything is very…physical with him. I don’t think he meant to make you uncomfortable.” Neteyam explained, watching his brother down an entire bottle of alcohol.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen him like this before, with any other girl. I think he really likes you, y/n. He just needs alittle guidance, that’s all.” Neteyam’s mate spoke, leaning her head back on his chest, shooting you a lighthearted smile.

Did he really like you? Even his brother and his mate said so. They wouldn’t steer you wrong. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like lo’ak too. It’s just the other girls that you had a problem with. There were so many too. You couldn’t compete with that, and you didn’t want to.

The party started to die down, and people started to leave. As the crowd left piece by piece, you saw lo’ak sitting in the corner, still gripping the empty alcohol bottle. His head was hung to the ground as he massaged his forehead, as if he had a headache, or deep in thought. You hesitated, but walked over to him.

“Hey.” You broke the silence, standing infront of him. His head shot up at you immediately, giving you his undivided attention.

“Hey.” He shot you a drunk smile, before throwing his head back down to the ground. You bit your lip in contemplation, trying to think of something else to say. Nothing came to mind. Instead, you held your hand out for him, waiting for him to grab it. He looked at your hand before his eye contact trailed up to your kind expression. “w-what’s this for?” He slurred, pointing to your hand in confusion. You sighed, rolling your eyes with a smile.

“You’re drunk, let me walk you home.” You spoke sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to grab your hand. He sighed, feeling so helpless in this moment. He was supposed to be walking YOU home, not the other way around. He didn’t deserve you. He grabbed your hand, standing up lazily.

“Thank you, y/n. Really.” He spoke in an exhausted tone. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder to maintain some kind of balance. Even though his vision was blurry.

“No problem, lo’ak. Let’s get out of here.” You chuckled, wrapping your arm around his waist, making your way to his hut.

The walk to his hut was mostly silent, minus the times you two stopped so he could throw up. And you were right there with him, holding his hair up, and patting his back. He’d apologize that you had to see him like that, and you’d just wipe his mouth with the napkins you brung specifically for this reason.

When you finally got to his hut, you weren’t surprised at the mess. You walked over the bottle cans, and empty alcohol bottles to lay him down on his cot.

“You ok?” You asked, pushing a strand of hair off of his sweaty forehead. Smiling down at him as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “Mhm.” He hummed, smiling at you drunkenly as his eyes opened and closed lazily.

“Get some sleep, ok?” You spoke softly, caressing his cheek. You turned around, taking in the filthy room around you.

“You know, you should really clean up, lo’ak.” You said sternly, picking up all of the empty cans on his floor, throwing them in the trash bag by the door. Then you proceeded to fold his loincloths, placing them in the drawer nice and neatly. He rolled over just to watch you clean his hut. No girl had ever done that for him, not that they should. But it was nice of you to do. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it by himself, it overwhelmed him. And he rarely spent time in his hut because the mess made him feel worse about himself. So to watch you clean it for him, helped him in ways he couldn’t even explain if he had the time to.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He shook his head in disappointment at himself, feeling more defeated than he ever has.

“Don’t worry about it, I wanted to.” You smiled, closing his drawer before dusting your hands off. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll be back in the morning to check on you.” You said, nodding your head as you made your way to his hut door. Every step felt like a knife to the heart, because he wanted nothing more than for you to stay with him.

“Y/n?” He muttered, but loud enough for you to hear. You stopped in your tracks, hoping that this would be the moment he asked you to stay, just so you could monitor him for the night. You turned back to him. “Yes?” You asked, voice full of hope. He hesitated, but it was now or never, and he chose now.

“Stay with me? I promise I won’t try anything. I’ll even sleep on the floor, and let you have the cot just….please. I don’t want to be alone tonight.” He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. You closed the hut door, walking over to his cot, bending down to become eye level with him.

“You’ve got something comfortable for me to wear?” You asked sarcastically with a lighthearted smile. He chuckled, sitting up on the edge of the bed before standing to his full height. He walked over to the drawer and picked out an oversized T-shirt, bringing it over to you.

“Let me guess. From the lab, huh?” You asked with a small chuckle, grabbing the shirt out of his hands. He smiled down at you.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. “How many girls have worn THIS one?” You asked, stepping dangerously close to him. So close that your breasts laid against his stomach. Eyebrow cocked as you untied your loincloth, letting it drop to the ground. Yet and still, he kept his eyes glued on yours, not even attempting to look at your naked body.

“None. I’ve been saving it.” He said In his same melodic tone. You tilted your head as if he was bullshitting you. You untied your top, but it stayed in place between you and lo’aks embrace.

“Oh yeah? Saving it for what?” You asked in a sarcastic tone, backing up slightly to let your top fall. He licked his lips, still keeping his eyes locked on yours, like the gentlemen he was learning to be. “For my future mate. So go ahead and put it on already.” He whispered, holding your chin with his finger.

His future mate? You didn’t even know lo’ak wished to be mated the way he tossed girls around. Who knew it would be you that could possibly change him?

“I’m not fucking you, lo’ak.” You tilted your head, with a small smirk. His eyes narrowed, letting your chin go.

“I wasn’t planning on fucking you either.” He titled his head, a smirk creeping across his face. You were almost offended. What did he mean by that?

“Sooo, you don’t want to fuck me?” You asked confused. He chuckled, stepping alittle closer, If that was even possible.

“Never said that.” He responded. “Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, with a devilish smirk. You almost gave in right there, but you had a feeling this was one of his games. And if you were being honest, you understood why so many girls fell for it.

“Yes- I MEAN…NO!….NO! NO! NO!” You shouted, pushing him away slightly. Pulling his shirt onto your body. He laughed, watching you scramble in-front of him.

“Suuure.” He said sarcastically, brushing past you to get back on his cot, getting comfortable. He patted the cot, signaling for you to come lay next to him. You walked over, climbing into the cot, facing him.

“To be completely clear, you didn’t want to fuck, right?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you. “LO’AK!” You shouted, your voice muffled by his broad chest. He laughed, caressing your back.

“I joke, I joke!” He chuckled, shutting his eyes. “Lo’ak?” You asked, wiggling in his embrace to get more comfortable. “Yes, y/n?” He smiled, holding you a little closer to him.

“What are we doing?” You asked hesitantly. He kissed the top of your head, drawing circles in your lower back.

“We’re sleeping. Get some rest. Let’s talk in the morning.” He responded, sighing before shutting his eyes once more. You smiled into his chest, planting a small kiss.

“Goodnight, lo’ak.” You whispered before drifting off to sleep. “Goodnight, y/n.” He spoke in a deep voice, before drifting off to sleep as well, faster than he’s ever had, finally finding that comfort he’d been searching for all along.

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia

[amazingmsme]

Do you have any Penelope Headcanons?

OUR BEAUTIFUL QUEEN! Yes I do!

I think she has a very sweet & bubbly personality & that’s what sealed the deal for Odysseus. They are silly4silly. Her looks are what caught his eye, but it’s the personality that has him down so bad

You think that Odysseus was the one who fell in love first, but no. She noticed the way he was staring at her & blew a kiss at him & watched as he walked straight into a tree & that sealed the deal

She’s taller than Odysseus by a few inches & would tease him by catching him off guard & bending down to kiss him & tease him about how red he is

One time he knew it was coming so he waited til she was about to kiss his cheek & turned his head so they’d actually be kissing. She was so flustered she could barely speak & then Odysseus literally swept her off her feet & carried her to their room

Speaking of tall Penelope tho, she would love nothing more than to hold things out of his reach & every single time Odysseus would have to tickle her to make her give it back. It’s a well practiced song & dance & he knows that she’s just doing it to provoke him & be silly & he goes along with it & only calls her out when he’s feeling mean

She & Ody are the sweetest, lovey dovey couple ever & it’s honestly borderline disgusting for everyone else. Just hanging all over each other, nuzzling into necks, kissing, & touching foreheads & cooing the stupidest pet names for each other I’m talkin’ high school band couple levels of pda

I’m so sick & fucking tired of how this community constantly makes girl characters barely ticklish or not ticklish at all so she is absolutely the more ticklish one in the relationship, but she just has fun with it & doesn’t fight back very much so you just assume it’s Odysseus

She has a very high pitched & bubbly laugh that can light up a room. It’s just such a beautifully happy sound, you can’t help but smile when you hear it

It’s literally Odysseus’s favorite sound in the whole wide world

She’s so silly & goofy, especially with Telemachus. She wants to keep her son happy & entertained & she doesn’t care if she has to act a fucking fool & embarrass him to do it

Now that he’s older & more moody, she reserves tickling as a last ditch effort to cheer him up, but when he was younger, she used to do it all the time, & he’d even ask for it

He’d ask her to “play tickle monster” & she just sighs like “I’m not as good as your father, but I’ll try” just so that he can know a lil more about Odysseus & how he would’ve loved to play games like this with him

She’s barely been tickled since Odysseus left, & she really misses it. She’s played around with some friends, but it just isn’t the same. It used to be their thing, & now even their son has “grown out of it” (not really, he just thinks he’s too old for such “childish games”)

Once Ody came back, she had to be patient for him to be comfortable & more like himself. She didn’t push him & waited for him to make the first move, or grant her permission. She can tell he’s changed almost completely, & she knows he just needs time to heal

But she’d still try to subtly provoke him by stretching right next to him, reaching for things on tall shelves, & laying on in increasingly vulnerable positions. She was over the moon when about a month after he got home, he gave a shy squeeze to her side, & that was all she needed to know that her Ody is still in there

As a ler, she loves to tease about how fun they are to tickle or how cute their laugh is. & Odysseus taught her to master the art of fake nonchalance, & paired with her long nails, it makes for a killer combo

She was so excited once her sweet husband came home because now they can finally be a family together, & she absolutely goads Ody into going after Telemachus cause she can sense the distance between them & wants them to be closer

Like out of nowhere she just brings up the whole tickle monster game & Telemachus is blushing so much like MOM WTF?! But Odysseus is nervous about overstepping, he’s basically a stranger to his own son & doesn’t wanna make him uncomfortable, but he’s dying to have some fun with him & goof off. He missed the most vital years of playing & getting close with Telemachus, & now he worries that it’s “too late” so they’re both sitting awkwardly far apart & not really making eye contact

& Penelope’s like oh no did I just make it worse? I have to fix this! So she just huffs like “well if you won’t, I will” & then starts tickling their son & calling Odysseus for help because Telemachus is “too strong now” & she needs back up, but once Odysseus joined the fray, she slowly backed out so that she could watch her boys roughhouse & laugh freely

Her worst spots are her neck/ears, tummy, thighs, feet & arms (I’m a SUCKER for ticklish biceps & forearms, so she has both)

I JUST LOVE HER SO MUCH I NEED THEM ALL TO BE A BIG HAPPY FAMILY

[brain-rot-central]

A preview of something I'm currently working on.

Born from an idea that Astarion would struggle immensely in the first few months after the events of the game. Healing trauma is rarely ever linear; there are many ups and downs to trek through before making it to the other side with newly found knowledge and strength.

Astarion's story encompasses so much of what one does to just survive when that's all they have left. This is a take on what his first few months post-main story might be like.

TW: references to disordered eating, abuse, adult themes, depression, poor mental health. Absolutely not "cute, cuddly Astarion." Our boy is sad, here.

You've saved Baldur's Gate from the Cult of the Absolute, destroyed the Netherbrain, and removed Cazador from the realm of the living. You both weren't sure what would come next. Your feelings for one another bloomed on the battlefield, fighting side by side. Neither of you knew if you'd see the following day, or what that day would bring. 

Your fires burned brightly, intertwining out of a mutual desperation to live. To be free of every puppet master pulling at the strings of your destiny. To return to living a life that was truly your own.

Yet, now that it was here…

Both of you were clueless how to navigate the aftermath.

You'd agreed to an attempt at cohabiting. Astarion had his reservations at the beginning, though he’s since thawed to the idea. As for yourself, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to living with another person. 

You lived alone prior to the Nautiloid. You were an urchin, having grown up on the streets of the Lower City for much of your life. You kept various blades hidden throughout your dwelling on the off chance an unwelcome visitor decided to drop by overnight. Astarion found most of them not long after moving in with you. He was slightly unsettled, but stated whimsically that he'd think twice before upsetting you going forward.

It had been months since the defeat of the Netherbrain, though Astarion still harbored many doubts. He'd often struggle with intense feelings of inadequacy and shame. He’d be ridden with such intense guilt that he'd lock himself away in your study for days, slipping out quietly during the night to hunt. He didn't dare let you see him in such a state.

And he didn't hunt often during these particular odd spells. Astarion will use his insatiable hunger as a form of self-discipline, purposely starving himself for days on end.

It's a repeating cycle. You don't quite understand why he does this to himself, and your attempts at getting him to speak never succeed. You settle on giving him space as being the best course of action.

When he inevitably emerges from his isolation, a different sort of hunger envelops him.

He seeks you out from your place within the house. Arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you feel the weight of him fall against your back. He buries his face in your neck, and you hear him inhale a shaky breath.

“Oh, hello,” you say to him, softly. “Are you feeling better?” You turn your body within his arms to face him. You push yourself onto the tips of your toes and nuzzle your nose against his.

He groans in mild protest and closes his eyes as you kiss the tip of his nose. “Somewhat,” he replies. He casts his eyes to the floor. “Missed you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Guilt clouds his eyes as he stares at the ground. “I missed you, too, Astarion.” He winces his eyes as you speak, his brows furrowing. Your words pain him, though you never quite understand why.

“I… I-I’m sorry,” he says with a shaky breath. You feel his hands begin to roam up your back. He grasps handfuls of your dress within his palms.

You step back from his hold, his expression dropping and his eyes staring wildly into yours. He's beginning to panic, overwhelming feelings of disgust and rejection displayed on his face. He's ready to run. He needs to hide again.

You bring your hands up to clasp each side of his face. “Astarion, listen to me,” you tell him, sternly. “I don't know what's going on in your head all of the time, but I'm here.” You guide his forehead down to rest upon your own. “You do not need to apologize for your darkness. I am here.”

The panic in Astarion's eyes begins to settle, and the tension ebbs from him. You step closer to him, still holding his face. Your lips graze his, and suddenly he's on you. One of his hands holds the back of your head and he crashes his lips onto yours, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

He asks to deepen your kiss with gentle passes of his tongue, and you part your lips and accept him into your mouth. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and you moan into his mouth.

“Need you,” Astarion begs between kisses. “Please, darling.” His voice is hoarse and rushed.

You pull your mouth from his, a small string of saliva connecting your lips in a brief moment. ‘“Do you hunger?” you ask, resting your forehead once more against his.

“Always,” he breathes out.

“Take me, then.” You kiss him gently once more. “Lose yourself in me, tonight.”

He shutters above you, hearing the same words he's deceived you with once before. He played a game in the beginning. Had a carefully thought out plan, designed to have you within his thrall. His plan fell through horrifically, and these same honeyed words now carry a more significant meaning.

Living with Astarion is intense, to say the least. Cyclical.

Nights of passion come in waves where you lay panting together, letting the breeze cool your sweat-soaked bodies. The only sounds heard during your couplings are the repeated slapping of his thighs meeting your behind with each of his thrusts, and your wanton moans as his length drags deliciously against the inner walls of your cunt. He fucks his apology into you thoroughly, and you couldn't be more happy to accept it.

This part of the cycle always starts off the same. You inform him that you're going to freshen up, and make your way into your shared bath. Astarion takes this as an opportunity to make your otherwise drab bedroom inviting for the coming main attraction. He places candles around your bedroom, lighting them as soon as he hears you stepping into the tub.

He blots on a bit more of his signature cologne: bergamot, brandy, and rosemary. He knows you enjoy this scent, knows that it brings you comfort. He strives to please you in every way possible, especially if it means making such a selfless act more enjoyable for you. He wears his ruffled blouse untucked, and loosens the laces of his trousers just enough to allow for what's to come.

You’re freshly bathed, a towel wrapped around your torso as you emerge from the bath. You enter your shared bedroom while drying your hair with a smaller bath towel, looking around to survey the soft ambiance of the room.

You see Astarion laying out on your bed. He's laying on his side and your eyes meet, the flickering candlelight causing his eyes to shine like gemstones. His eyes are hooded as he watches you move toward the bed.

You sit on the edge of your shared bed, feeling a faint flush spread across your face as you hold his gaze. Astarion glides a hand over the space on the bed next to him, a clear invitation for you to come closer. Your breath hitches and you bring your hands up to undo the towel covering your body.

You watch his eyes narrow as he follows the towel fall freely off your chest. His chest rises as he sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes scanning over your now-bare form. You feel paralyzed within his sight, though also proud. His reaction to viewing your naked form is similar with each encounter, solidifying that this is likely genuine. The thought brings you a sense of peace, willing you forward.

You begin to climb onto the bed and toward your vampiric lover. The bed dips beneath your palms and an all too familiar scent floods your nostrils, becoming stronger as you inch closer to him. You realize then that Astarion had reapplied his cologne while you were in the shower, just for you. The smell is intoxicating. So enticing, that you mindlessly continue crawling toward yet another brush with death.

A rush of uneasy energy surges through you as you reach Astarion. You fold your legs under you, and shaky hands come up to gently cradle both sides of his face. His eyes are molten lava that is melting through your core. He’s refuted your past claims of him charming you prior to these encounters, and your doubts continue for this very reason.

On these nights, your body becomes his. His to possess and manipulate however he pleases. You subjugate yourself to him, trusting him to take only as much as he needs from you. Trusting him to take you through the night and deliver you safely to the dawn. He's been honorable, thus far.

Though, there is always a time for everything.

His hand comes up to cover your own on his cheek. Astarion turns his face into your hand, kissing your palm. “Are you sure you want to do this, love?” he asks. His voice is a soft whisper.

Ruby red eyes glare up at you through hooded lids. His expression is soft, pleading. You quickly realize he's asking for more than what he's said. It's the one question he's never dared to put to words, though asks repeatedly in other ways.

You sigh and nod your head. You know the question he truly is asking, one that he's yet to ever form into words. “Yes, Astarion. I trust you. I trust you to not lose control.”

He seeks the constant reassurance that you accept him as he is. A constant reminder that he is more than the monster Cazador created.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM THE PARENT TRAP *  assorted dialogue taken from the script, adjust as necessary

we've got a big, big day ahead of us.

now the question is, how do i get it out?

you must be new.

i would say you need some serious help.

now that's my kind of woman.

we traveled six thousand miles for... this?

it's rather picturesque, wouldn't you say?

i'll be fine. see you in eight weeks.

i'm positive i'd remember you.

sorry, wish i could, but i'm allergic.

sure. i'll take a whack at it.

why's everyone staring?

want me to deck her for you?

i'm so tired. i'm crawling back into bed and sleeping until lunch.

save yourself the aggravation. it's really disgusting.

you'll thank us for this. you'll see.

i feel so bad for you.

any of your pictures ruined?

i love oreos. at home, i eat them with peanut butter.

most people find that totally disgusting.

it's scary the way nobody stays together anymore.

will you stop thinking about your stomach at a time like this?

oh man, this is beyond coincidence. this is beyond imagination.

this is so freaky.

if you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

that's the way true love works. history's filled with stories of lovers parted by some silly misunderstanding.

i have a brilliant, beyond brilliant idea.

oh, right. sorry, i'm just a little nervous.

you sure you know what you're doing?

oh god, i hope she likes me. please like me.

you look fantastic. what did you do to your hair?

i just love how everyone drives on the wrong side here.

now you're even talking like an american.

i'm making a memory.

i can't believe it's you.

i'm sorry, it's just... i've missed you so much.

can you believe it? it seems like it's been forever.

i didn't realize you were so beautiful.

i found a stowaway in your suitcase.

can't you manage without me?

you don't think it's too over-the-top?

come on, let's see what all the fuss is about...

i like things exactly the way they are, thank you.

now let's see what disaster awaits us.

you can't avoid the subject forever.

we kind of hit it off immediately.

i knew you were going to ask me all these questions one day.

it just didn't work out.

get into these arms, you little punk.

what happened to you? something's changed. did you get taller?

now you sound like your old self.

i made cornbread and chili.

i'm just so happy to be home.

i can't put my finger on it, but something about you has definitely changed.

when you're done, come on down. there's someone i want you to meet.

sorry, did i get you wet?

somebody grab that, please.

we've got a major problem.

are you nuts?

this is an emergency.

you've got to get back here to help me.

there's something really important i want to talk to you about.

you do an absolutely marvelous british accent.

i'm trying to tell you something!

why's everybody acting so nutty around here?

i'm afraid you're kind of missing the point.

let's discuss this calmly and rationally...

you are unbelievably out of line.

this is fantastic wine, by the way.

are you okay? would you like me to come with you?

why didn't you tell me it was you all along?

i've never been so happy in my entire life.

i'm in such major trouble here.

you're perfect for each other.

may your life be far less complicated than mine.

i can't believe it. you haven't changed at all.

i think i have to get dressed for dinner.

sometime, if we're ever really alone, maybe we could talk about... what happened between us.

you didn't come after me.

it's the wine we drank at our wedding. i now have every bottle ever made.

can we open one?

you're the only one i'd drink it with.

you don't always have to be so brave, you know.

[ashyx]

"I miss you more than life itself, my love"

xanthus lost you over 20 years ago, but now, he bumped into someone who looks exactly like you.

(His pov)

It constantly feels like I'm in hell. It's been 20 years, but it felt like yesterday when I lost the one person who made me want to continue living, to value my life, and to make sure I wake up the next day. It feels like yesterday when I held their lifeless, bloodied, and cold body in my arms. Ever since that day, ever since our bond disappeared, the world just felt so...dull. it felt so empty, so cold. I miss their warmth, I miss their beautiful, bright smile, I miss waking up and sleeping next to them, I miss us. If I were to given the choice to lose the world or to get the love of my life back, I would gladly watch the whole world burn with my love back my arms, because the world is meaning less without my love.

It was one of those days where dontis would force me to take a walk around the city. He insisted that it was for my own good, to finally feed, but even if I tried, I couldn't. The taste of another person's blood on my tongue tasted absolutely disgusting. Dontis took me to a nearby beach. It was windy, and it was sundown. It reminded me of my love. I closed my eyes and let the scene in front of me sink in, letting my brain remind me of all the times me and my love could have had together. The sound of the waves hitting the shore every second, the wind hitting my body, the smell of the ocean, God, they would've loved this.

"I have a good feeling they would've loved this place," dontis said, breaking the silence, making me open my eyes. I couldn't bare to stay here any longer, not when I had the privilege to hear and admire this scenery and my love couldn't. "This was a stupid idea. Let's just go, " I said as I turned back to return to the place we came from. Dontis tried to reason with me, to let me stay, but I didn't want to. I was too caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice that someone else was behind me, causing us to bump into each other. "I apologize, I didn't mean to–" my sentence was cut short when I lifted my head to see who I've collided with. It was my deceased love, staring back at me with those soft, beautiful eyes with a smile that could've lit up the whole room.

They were beautiful. "...love?" I whispered out, feeling hot tears forming in my eyes along with the lump in my throat. It didn't take long for dontis to catch up with me, and he looked just as shocked as I was "I'm sorry..?" The person in front of me said, visibly confused and concerned. They sounded just like them, too. "Xanthus. You're scaring them, " dontis said, holding onto my shoulder. I was analyzing their face, trying to find anything that proved my love was just right in front of me, but that was when I saw it. A birthmark, underneath their bottom lip. It had felt like my heart had been ripped out of my body. It wasn't my love. "I–I'm sorry. I thought you were... someone I knew." I managed to choke out as dontis began to lead us back to his place.

It's been 20 long, agonizing years since I lost them, but it was only until now that I realized, no matter how much I wish for my love to be back, no matter how much I've played back all our memories in my head, my love was gone. For good. I've had absolutely nothing to lose now.

A/n: FINALLY DONE WITH MY FIRST FIC!! It's been in my drafts for a while, so i decided to finish it up now. sorry if it's bad, I tried my best🥹. This is my very first fic ever, so please be nice. Also keep in mind that English isn't my first language, so I hope you'll excuse my bad grammar. 🙏🙏

[animentality]

Gortash is such a smiley lovestruck idiot at his own coronation when Durge shows up and I have to wonder. Is it because he’s just so happy to see them again after not realising what he had until it was gone that all bets are off and, pretence be damned, he’s not wasting a minute of this second chance pretending Durge doesn’t make him the happiest evil bastard alive? Or did he ever let himself be a smiley lovestruck idiot around Durge before losing them too? Like do you think there was ever a moment before Durge went missing where Gortash was holding their face close to his and trying to kiss them but he couldn’t because he just could not stop smiling like dumbass over how genuinely in love happy this freak of nature Bhaalspawn has him. Did Durge ever have to try and process this — to look back at this guy giving them the dopiest grin and have to try and understand that it’s for them? Because of them? They, the Dark Urge, scion of Bhaal, prince of murder, are the one making Enver Gortash smile like a fool? Making someone not miserable, but happy? Or, oh god, did Gortash ever reduce Durge to a smiley lovestruck idiot themself?? Both of them, having to pause in the middle of making out to just cling to each other and laugh (or god forbid, giggle) because they BOTH can’t stop smiling? These two crazy evil fucks both genuinely giving each other nerves and butterflies and joy? Like we know they made each other insane but how much of it showed on their faces? Just how embarrassing was this relationship?????

ANON, your message had me giggling and kicking up my feet.

I think Gortash is naturally affable and warm, but to the Dark Urge specifically, he is being HONESTLY affectionate. We know he swept Jannath off her feet and was disgusting with Franc Peartree, but he would've been absolutely vile with the Dark Urge.

I would like to imagine these two laughably evil bitches being gross and soft with one another, but I don't know. They were definitely rough fucking in the alley, but were they ever sweet?

Did they ever use pet names or giggle or be silly?

I sort of lean towards no...but I can imagine them quietly, in a dignified, solemn manner, hugging each other close.

Not daring to speak aloud that which is forbidden, but they know it, they keep it between themselves anyway.

Hmmmm...

But.

But you know...

The way he greets you isn't an act. He seems to not know if you do have your memories, so I think he just acts like that towards you normally. Which means maybe he and the Dark Urge WERE very touchy feely and nasty in public.

But there is a lot of potential in the idea that maybe he did know you probably had lost your memories.

And he was relieved, because he's getting his love back, but even better, they can start over.

He can be warmer with them than he ever was before. He can present this as the norm.

He's so happy to see you because it's been too long, because he didn't know what he had until he lost you, and he needs you to know how much you mattered to him, but he's also just, so exhilarated, by the idea of a fresh start.

Hence, calling you a sight for sore eyes.

Calling you his favorite assassin.

Calling you brilliant and a genius.

Saying you'll be good for each other.

Being like an inch off from seizing you into a hug or fucking you.

It's just- ARGH.

Your entire ask rattled in my brain and I had to stare at it for a bit. Sorry for the delay.

[gobblinggojo]

On a Shinsou/Reader request, wondering if you could do a rivals to lovers prompt or maybe a first kiss one?

Idk just came up with some ideas, hope you feel better by now btw- 🖤🖤

No idea if it's already known or not, BUT I ADORE SHINSOU, UGH! And Shinsou with a rivals to lovers prompt AND A FIRST KISS? AHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I love this request so much omg.

And I'm feeling a little better! I'm really congested still and I have the WORSTTT I-Pad kid cough, but I'm getting better!

♡You Wanna Kiss me so Bad it Makes You Look Stupid: Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader♡ 

♡ warnings: rivals to lovers, cursing, use of the word dumb, shinsou’s a little shit♡

♡ requests are open♡

“c’mon, admit it. you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” his words were venom in the air; hitting me hard and making me more upset than i already was.

Hitoshi Shinsou was the one guy whom i loathed with every fiber of my being. It always got on my nerves; seeing him try to act all big and bad around the students of class A and act so nonchalant about every little thing. It annoyed me. How could someone who was obviously destined to be a hero be so goddamn annoying? And now, here he was, standing right in front of me, a shit-eating grin plastered on his beautiful face. I was wrapped up in his scarf, which he had used to bind me, upside down on a tree.

Today for class, Mr. Aizawa wanted us the train with a group of students to get a better understanding of other quirks; and lucky me, Shinsou was a part of the student group that would be training with us. The both of us never missing a chance to embarrass the other—or even trying to prove that one of us was better than the other, instantly went into a battle with one another--which resulted in my current predicament. I wanted to scream, to cry, to punch him in his stupid face. What kind of guy binds a person up and makes a comment like THAT to them? 

My face was on fire. “What the hell kind of assumption is that Shinsou?!” My words were yelled at an octave higher than my usual vocal range. I sounded embarrassed and I despised that. I was struggling against the white cloth, muscles tensing and untensing as I tried to get out of my current situation. Shinsou was dead wrong, DEAD WRONG. I have never once wanted to kiss him before in my life. Where the hell did, he get that assumption from?

“Just look at you Y/n. Look at your face--your dumb little face,” that shit-eating grin never once left Shinsou’s face as he stared into my eyes. His eyes were beautiful. A deep violet hue, enchanting all in all. Each time I looked into them they took my breath away, and that made me mad. 

“Look at you, you’re just starin’ at me, mouth wide open. Have nothing to say?” I wanted to beat his ass. “Am I that pretty, Y/n?” Shinsou tilted his head, a faux pout appearing on his face as he furrowed his brows into a worried look. Dammit he was so cute. 

A groan left my lips, the feeling of all of that blood rushing to my head was finally getting to me. “Shinsou let me down,” my words were a jumbled mess, I felt hot all over. Was I embarrassed? Flustered? I have absolutely no idea, but that and the combination of my head filling with blood was really making me dizzy. A worried look befell Shinsou’s face before he tugged on his scarf; instantly rushing over and grabbing a hold of my body as I plummeted down to the ground.

 “Did you have to make that scarf go so tight, idiot?!” I exclaimed as I finally shot up after regaining my sense of self. My eyes glared daggers right at Shinsou, wishing and praying that he would spontaneously combust right then and there. 

Shinsou stood there for a moment, staring at me--a blank look was on his face as he watched me closely, studying me. And then, a cheeky smirk slowly grew on that beautiful face of his--a smirk that could almost put the Cheshire Cat’s own to shame. “I guess you really fell for me, huh Honey?” My blood ran cold at that nickname. I wanted to throw up.

“You’re disgusting!”

“And you like me.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I do not!”

“Let’s not lie now, Y/n.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,”

“OH! just shut up and kiss me!” As I said those words, my hands flew up to Shinsou’s face. Both were placed on his cheeks, instantly pulling him down into a very clumsily initiated kiss. Teeth knocked against teeth, noses against noses; I’m sure our lips would end up becoming bruised with how much force the kiss was initiated with. 

Moments passed as we stood there under that tree, pressing numerous different kisses against one another’s lips. Everything felt amazing--enchanting even. My first kiss, my first EVER kiss was everything and more than I had wanted it to be. After what felt like hours, we finally pulled away. Shinsou rested his forehead against mine, the mouth of us breathing harshly to catch our breaths. Soon, another smirk fell on Shinsou’s perfect face. “Told ya you wanted to kiss me,” he whispered in a hushed town. 

“Shut up, Shinsou.” 

[winxanity-ii]

MEMORY CARD [1/?]

ship: artist!andy x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 4.7k (y'all know the routine, tried doing a regular one-shot but ended up worldbuilding 😩😔; part 2 will be up soon) a/n: was talking with my sis about westworld so here we are...(update: it's gonna be 4-5 parts in total cuz @k-nayee. bullied me 😭😔💔 parts: 2

★·.·´🇦‌🇱‌🇮‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The train rattled along the tracks, the gentle hum of the engine weaving with the rhythmic clatter of wheels against steel. You leaned your forehead against the cool glass window, watching as the endless plains rolled by in a blur of gold and green.

The faint smell of dust and engine oil filled the cabin, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from the dining car up ahead.

Each bump in the track sent a subtle jolt through the train, a reminder of the distant frontier you were heading toward.

Behind you, the low murmur of conversation drifted through the air. You weren't trying to eavesdrop, but the voices carried in the cramped space.

"Now, the first time, I played it white hat. My family was here. We went fishing, did the gold hunt in the mountains," one of the men said, his tone smug with nostalgia. There was a pause as he took a swig of something from his flask. "And last time? I came alone. Went straight evil. It was the best two weeks of my life."

His companion chuckled darkly. "Straight evil, huh? What'd you do?"

"Ah, you know," he said with a nonchalant shrug that you could practically hear in his voice. "Burned a few homesteads, robbed a bank or two… Got a nice haul from the bank, but the real fun was in the brothel. Picked a few cute ones—doe eyes, rosey cheeks, the whole works." His voice dipped into something sleazier. "Well, by the time I was done with the first one, let's just say, she wasn't thinking much at all."

You clenched your jaw, your grip tightening on the armrest as your stomach turned at his words.

The casual cruelty in his voice was disturbing, the way he spoke about the hosts like they were nothing more than objects to be used and discarded.

It was the kind of talk that made your skin crawl.

"And you know, the best part?" he continued, his voice dripping with twisted satisfaction. "After I was done, I shot her right in the head. She fell like a goddamn doll. And the way the other girls screamed—man, I've never felt so powerful."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of anger and disgust swirling inside you. Behind him, his friend laughed, low and crude.

"You're sick, man. But I gotta hand it to you—there's nothing like having absolute control. Makes you realize what you’re missing out on in the real world, doesn't it?"

Kiro, who had been staring out of the opposite window, turned her head sharply, her eyes blazing with indignation. "Ugh, what pigs," she gagged, loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough to avoid drawing attention.

Or so you thought.

You turned toward her, already sensing where this was going. "Kiro, don't," you whispered, trying to catch her eye, but she was already leaning forward, her expression set in a fierce scowl.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice cutting through the men’s conversation like a knife. Both of them turned, startled by the sudden interruption. "What an amazing story," she continued, dripping with sarcasm. "Can you maybe speak a little louder so we can all enjoy hearing about you fucking a decapitated host?"

The entire cabin fell silent. Every conversation around you stuttered and died as heads turned in your direction. The men stared at her, eyes wide in shock, before the one who had been bragging about his exploits found his voice.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" he barked, his face flushing with anger and embarrassment.

You reached out, grabbing Kiro's arm in an attempt to pull her back into her seat. "Kiro, please, just—" you began, but she shrugged you off, her gaze never leaving the men.

"Me? Problem?" she said, her voice cold and clear. "Looks like you have the problem, sitting over here bragging about doing sick shit. Sounds like you need a fucking therapist, not a vacation."

The man's face turned an even deeper shade of red as he sputtered, clearly not used to being called out so directly. His companion shifted uncomfortably, looking around at the other passengers who were now watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of curiosity and discomfort.

With a devastated, horrified shriek, you yanked Kiro back down into her seat, your fingers digging into the soft fabric of her dress as you hissed her name. "Kiro!"

The man grunted, shoving himself up from his seat. "Whatever. Let's get out of here," he muttered, jerking his head toward the back of the train. His friend followed suit, and you watched as they made their way down the aisle, their bravado crumbling under the weight of the stares that followed them.

Eventually, the low hum of conversation slowly filled the cabin again, the brief drama fading into the background noise of the train.

You pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead, rubbing at the spot between your eyes where a headache was beginning to bloom. "You can't let it get to you like that," you murmured, leaning closer so only she could hear. "You know it's common to hear things like that in here. Most people come to this place to live out their worst impulses."

Kiro let out a reluctant sigh, her shoulders sagging as she sank back into her seat. "I know," she muttered, a scowl tugging at the corners of her mouth. "But it's still bullshit. It doesn't matter if they're hosts. It's just wrong." She crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers tapping impatiently against her biceps. "And this ridiculous getup doesn't help either."

You glanced at her outfit, your lips quirking into a smile despite the lingering tension.

The soft yellow fabric of her dress shimmered faintly in the afternoon light, the white lace trim at the collar and cuffs adding a delicate, almost ethereal touch. The bodice hugged her frame perfectly, the high waist flaring out into a gentle, flowing skirt that fell just above her ankles.

Matching gloves, made of the same soft material, covered her hands, and a small hat, adorned with a delicate white ribbon, sat perched on her head, complementing her olive skin tone. Her silky straight hair was tied up in an intricate bun beneath the hat, a few stray strands framing her face.

"You look fine," you teased, nudging her gently with your elbow.

Kiro rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips as she nudged you back. "Yeah, you can only say that because you’ve been here a hundred times. You're probably more used to wearing this old-western shit than regular clothes."

You laughed, reaching out to playfully pinch her arm. "That's not true," you protested, grinning as she swatted your hand away. "In my defense, the aesthetic is cute." You gestured to your own outfit, smoothing down the dark emerald green fabric of your dress.

The rich, velvety material clung to your figure in all the right places, the cream accents along the hem and sleeves adding a touch of elegance.

The dress was designed in the same style as Kiro's, with a fitted bodice and a flared skirt that swayed with every movement. A small matching hat perched atop your head, the delicate cream ribbon fluttering gently as the train continued its steady journey.

You tugged at your matching gloves, the emerald fabric soft and smooth against your fingers.

"You can't deny it's fun to dress up a little," you added, leaning back in your seat. "Even if it is a bit…anachronistic."

Kiro snorted, her smirk widening into a grin. "Yeah, well, I'd still prefer my jeans and a t-shirt any day over this." She glanced down at her outfit, shaking her head. "I feel like I'm playing dress-up in some weird historical reenactment."

You chuckled, the last remnants of tension melting away as the train rocked gently beneath you. "That's the whole point, though. It’s supposed to be a break from reality."

"Yeah, a break from reality where people think it’s okay to act like total assholes," Kiro muttered, but there was no real bite in her voice. She glanced at you, her eyes softening. "Thanks for trying to keep me out of trouble."

"Always," you said, smiling. "But next time, maybe just let it slide. We're here to have fun, remember?"

Kiro rolled her eyes, but she leaned back in her seat with a sigh. "Yeah, yeah. I'll try to remember that."

The train began to slow, the rhythmic clatter of wheels against tracks softening as it pulled into the station. You felt the change in momentum as it gently rocked to a stop, the hiss of steam filling the cabin.

The conductor's voice, gruff but polite, echoed through the car.

"Welcome to Sweetwater, ladies and gentlemen," he called out, tipping his hat as he moved down the aisle. "Please mind your step as you disembark. Have a fine day, and enjoy your visit to the frontier."

The passengers around you stood, gathering their belongings and chatting excitedly as they prepared to disembark.

You exchanged a glance with Kiro, who rolled her eyes playfully at the conductor's formal tone but couldn't hide the glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

You stood, smoothing down the skirt of your dress before picking up your leather bag.

The air was filled with the rustling of clothing, the creak of leather boots against the wooden floor, and the hum of anticipation as everyone shuffled toward the exit.

Stepping down from the train onto the wooden platform, you were momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight. You blinked, shielding your eyes with one gloved hand as you adjusted to the sudden change.

The warmth of the sun contrasted sharply with the cool, dusty air that carried the faint scent of horses and fresh-baked bread from the nearby bakery.

Sweetwater spread out before you like a scene from a storybook. The town was bustling with life, the wooden buildings lined up along the dusty main street, their colorful signs swaying gently in the breeze.

Horses trotted by, their hooves clopping against the dirt road, while a stagecoach rumbled past, the driver tipping his hat to the ladies on the sidewalk.

Kiro stepped down beside you, her eyes wide as she took in the sight. "Wow," she breathed, her voice filled with awe. She turned in a slow circle, taking in everything from the saloon with its swinging doors to the blacksmith's forge where the sound of hammering echoed faintly through the air. "This is… incredible."

You couldn't help but smile at her reaction, memories of your own first visit flooding back. The overwhelming sense of wonder, the feeling that you'd stepped into another world, a place where anything was possible.

It was a sensation that had faded over time, but seeing it through Kiro's eyes brought a flicker of it back to life.

Before you could say anything, Kiro snapped out of her daze, her grin wide and infectious as she grabbed your arm. "Let's go check it out!" she exclaimed, pulling you along before you could protest.

The two of you made your way down the bustling street, weaving between groups of people.

You passed a group of children chasing each other, their laughter ringing out as they dodged between the legs of a tall man in a duster coat. He chuckled, tipping his hat to you as you passed.

The town was alive with energy, a mix of hosts and guests moving about, some lost in their own narratives, others just exploring.

A woman in a bright red dress leaned against the railing of the saloon, batting her eyelashes at a group of men who were clearly guests, their excitement palpable as they fumbled through the door.

A few steps ahead, you noticed a man standing on a wooden crate, a sheriff's star pinned to his chest. He was surrounded by a small crowd, gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

"A posse is being organized to chase down a man who murdered the Marshal!" he announced, his voice carrying over the noise of the street. "Murderous son of a bitch named Hector Escaton gunned down the Marshal in cold blood. He's holed up in the mountains, and we need every able-bodied person willing to bring him to justice."

The crowd murmured, a few men stepping forward eagerly. The sheriff's gaze swept over the people gathered around him, landing on you and Kiro as you passed by.

"You there," he called out, pointing in your direction. "You look like the kind of ladies who’d put your mettle to it."

Kiro's eyes lit up, her hand already lifting in an enthusiastic wave as she nodded eagerly. "Really? Hell ye—"

"Not today, Sheriff," you cut in smoothly, stepping between Kiro and the man with a polite smile. "Apologies." You hooked your arm through hers, steering her away before she could argue.

"Hey, I could've done it!" she protested, though her tone was more playful than serious. She looked over her shoulder, watching as the sheriff turned back to his recruiting.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and teasing. "Oh, I know you could've. I one hundred percent believe that," you said, patting her arm reassuringly as you guided her through the crowd. "But first, we've got to put our things away at the inn."

Kiro sighed dramatically but nodded, her curiosity about the town clearly winning out over the missed opportunity.

Together, you made your way down the bustling street, the inn's weathered sign swinging gently in the breeze as you approached.

A little while later, you were in your room, humming a soft tune under your breath as you folded your clothes and placed them neatly in the drawer.

The room was simple but cozy, the wooden floors creaking slightly under your feet as you moved around, setting up your things.

The afternoon sun filtered through the lace curtains, casting a warm, golden light across the room.

You were just placing your hat on the dresser when the door burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud thud. You jumped, turning to see Kiro standing in the doorway, her eyes gleaming and a wide grin plastered across her face.

"They have a saloon!" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

You blinked, momentarily confused by her enthusiasm. "Yeahhh…" you said slowly, tilting your head as you tried to figure out why she was so excited. "We saw it earlier. Remember?"

Kiro didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stalked forward, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. She placed her hands on your shoulders, staring you directly in the eyes, her expression dead serious. "If there's a saloon, that means there’s alcohol," she said, her voice low and intense, as if she were imparting some great secret.

You raised an eyebrow, still not quite following. "Okay…?"

"And if there's alcohol," she continued, her grip tightening on your shoulders, "you know what that means? Drunk-ass susceptible banks!"

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "Really, Kiro? Are you seriously planning to spend your week here doing the same thing you do back home? Get a roster of dudes?"

Kiro snorted, releasing your shoulders as she plopped down on your bed, the springs creaking under her weight. "Uhhh, duh," she sang, grinning up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What else am I supposed to do? It's my birthday. Plus, this is the perfect time to meet and get my thot shit on without worrying if the dude will find my ass and want a relationship."

You paused, your hands stilling as you turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "What happened to the whole 'treating hosts like people' bit back on the train earlier?"

Kiro looked at you like you’d just killed a dog or smacked her across the face. "What!? I am!" she protested, her voice rising in indignation. "If anything, me not fucking them would be discriminatory. Hell, I'm giving them the ultimate human treatment by treating them like one of my potential hoes."

You snorted, shaking your head as you folded the last of your clothes and slid the drawer shut. "You're ridiculous," you said, but there was no real bite to your words. A smile tugged at your lips as you glanced over at her.

Kiro just grinned, one eyebrow quirking up as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You love me," she said, winking dramatically.

"Unfortunately," you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from her.

Before she could retaliate, she hopped up from the bed, practically bouncing on her heels as she clapped her hands together. "Now, hurry up!" she whined, grabbing your arm and tugging on it like a petulant child. "We've gotta get to the saloon before all the good stuff is gone. I want to get my drink on and find some sweet-talking cowboy to take advantage of."

You laughed, letting her pull you toward the door. "You really think you're gonna find someone like that here?"

Kiro scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she gave you a playful smirk. "Please. With this face?" She gestured to herself dramatically. "I'm irresistible. Hosts, guests, doesn't matter. They'll all be lining up for a chance with me."

"Your confidence is astounding," you said dryly, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at you. "Now, come on! Time's wasting!"

You let her lead you out of the room and down the creaky wooden stairs to the main lobby, the warm, dusty scent of the inn filling your senses as you passed by the front desk and out the door.

The sun was beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the town as the two of you made your way back down the main street.

The atmosphere was even livelier than before, with more guests mingling among the hosts, their faces alight with excitement and curiosity.

A couple of men sat outside a shop, their hats tipped low over their eyes as they chatted, while a woman in a bright red dress twirled a parasol, her eyes scanning the crowd with a practiced gaze.

Kiro's grip on your arm was firm but gentle as she pulled you along, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she pointed out various sights along the way. "Look, there's the sheriff's office!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her toes. "And over there's the general store. We should totally check that out later."

As you approached the saloon, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses.

You glanced up as you approached, your eyes tracing the elegant script of the sign hanging above the entrance. Mariposa Saloon, it read, the letters etched in gold against a backdrop of dark wood, a pair of butterfly wings painted delicately on either side.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever lay beyond those swinging doors.

Kiro nudged you with her elbow, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Ready?" she asked, her voice barely containing her eagerness.

You nodded, pushing through the doors and stepping inside. The first thing that hit you was the smell—a heady mix of cigar smoke, polished wood, and the sweet, slightly tangy scent of whiskey.

It was almost overwhelming, yet oddly inviting, like stepping into another world entirely.

The low hum of conversation filled the air, punctuated by the clink of glasses and the occasional burst of raucous laughter.

The saloon was packed. Men in dust-covered coats and wide-brimmed hats leaned against the bar, their boots scuffing the polished floor as they chatted and laughed with each other.

A group of cowboys sat around a table near the back, cards in their hands and suspicious looks on their faces as they eyed one another over the pot of coins in the center.

Near the front, a few of the saloon's workers, dressed in vibrant, corset-style dresses, drifted gracefully through the crowd, their eyes sharp as they scanned for potential customers.

And then there was the music.

A piano in the corner was being played with enthusiasm, the lively melody filling the room and blending with the soft, sultry voice of the showgirl on stage. She was stunning, her sequined dress catching the light as she swayed to the rhythm, her voice weaving a spell over the crowd as she sang of love and loss and whiskey.

"Damn," Kiro breathed beside you, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the scene. "It's like we've stepped back in time."

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from the showgirl for a moment longer. "Yeah, it really is something," you murmured, feeling that familiar, intoxicating sense of wonder settle over you.

Kiro's hand on your arm brought you back to the present, and you followed her as she made a beeline for the bar.

The bartender, a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and a roguish smile, glanced up as you approached. He threw a towel over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement as he took in the two of you.

"Well, now," he drawled, leaning against the counter with a practiced ease. "What can I get you fine ladies tonight?"

Kiro's eyes narrowed playfully as she pushed herself up onto the bar, leaning over it just enough to draw the bartender's gaze. "Depends," she purred, her voice dropping into a low, seductive lilt. "What do you have that's strong enough to make a girl forget her name but sweet enough to have her calling yours?"

The bartender’s grin widened, his gaze flicking down to her lips before returning to her eyes. "I think I've got just the thing," he said, his tone matching hers. He reached under the bar, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses. "You like bourbon, darlin'?"

"Love it," Kiro replied, her smile matching the bartender’s as she watched him pour the drinks with a practiced hand.

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you watched the two of them. This was classic Kiro—bold, confident, and utterly unafraid to go after what she wanted, even if it was just a bit of flirtation with a good-looking bartender.

The bartender slid the glasses across the counter, his fingers brushing lightly against Kiro's as she reached for hers. "There you go," he said, his voice warm and smooth. "A drink strong enough to make you forget anything you want. And if you're looking for more than just the drink, well…" He leaned in a little closer, his smile turning wicked. "I'm here all night."

Kiro's laugh was low and throaty as she picked up her glass, taking a slow sip while keeping her eyes locked on his. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, her voice a soft purr.

You shook your head, chuckling softly as you picked up your own drink. Turning away from the bar, you took a sip, savoring the burn of the bourbon as it slid down your throat.

It was good—smooth and strong, with just a hint of sweetness.

As you let your gaze wander around the room, you took in the scene before you. At one table, a group of cowboys were deep in a game of cards, their faces tense as they watched each other’s hands with keen eyes.

Nearby, one of the saloon workers, a woman in a bright green dress, leaned over a gentleman’s shoulder, her fingers trailing lightly down his arm as she whispered something in his ear. He laughed, tipping his hat back as he glanced up at her with a wide grin.

On the stage, the showgirl continued to sing, her voice filling the room with its sultry tones. She twirled, her dress sparkling in the light, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in by her performance, the way she seemed to captivate everyone in the room.

It really did feel like you'd been transported to the past, to some forgotten corner of the world where anything was possible and reality was just a distant memory.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it, the drink warming you from the inside as you leaned back against the bar, the weight of the real world falling away.

Kiro's laughter pulled you back, and you turned to see her still chatting with the bartender, her eyes bright with excitement.

You smiled, raising your glass in a silent toast to her.

Your eyes drifted lazily around the room, taking in the lively atmosphere and the myriad of stories unfolding around you.

Then, your gaze snagged on a figure seated in the far corner of the saloon, half-hidden in the shadows. Your heart immediately skipped a beat, the breath catching in your throat.

It was him.

He sat alone, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he nursed a drink, his eyes fixed on the stage with an intensity that bordered on sadness, frustration etched in the lines of his brow.

His skin, a rich dark brown, contrasted sharply with the crisp, tailored suit he wore—an outfit that screamed sophistication and wealth, a stark difference from the dust-covered patrons that filled the room.

He looked like he had stepped out of another world, his presence commanding yet somehow withdrawn.

His suit was a deep charcoal gray, the fine wool perfectly fitted to his frame. His polished boots, gleaming faintly in the dim light, tapped lightly against the floorboards, the only hint of movement in his otherwise still figure.

He held his glass loosely in one hand, the amber liquid inside catching the light as he swirled it absently before taking a slow sip of his drink, his jaw clenching as he swallowed.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the noise of the saloon dimming to a distant hum as you watched him. Before you could find yourself getting lost in your thoughts, a tap on your shoulder jolted you back to reality.

You turned to see Kiro watching you with a raised brow, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern. "Hey, you okay? Did something happen?" she asked, her voice cutting through the haze that had enveloped your mind. "What are you looking at?"

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as if you'd been caught doing something you weren't supposed to. Your eyes flicked back to the corner where he sat, your gaze lingering for just a moment before snapping back to Kiro.

You felt your face flush, a wave of heat crawling up your neck as you struggled to find your words. "I—it's nothing," you stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I wasn't looking at anything."

Kiro gave you a look, one eyebrow arched high, her lips quirking into a skeptical smirk.

Normally, she would have pressed you for details, teasing you relentlessly until you either spilled the truth or begged her to stop. But tonight, she just tilted her head slightly, studying you for a moment longer before shrugging and turning back to the bartender, her previous flirtatious grin sliding back into place.

"Okay, if you say so," she murmured, her tone light, but her eyes lingered on you a beat longer than usual before she turned her attention back to the handsome man behind the bar, her laughter ringing out as he said something that made her giggle, her hand lightly brushing against his as she leaned closer.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, your shoulders slumping in relief.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on the drink in your hand or the conversation buzzing around you, your eyes kept wandering back to him.

You wanted to go to him, but the thought of breaking the fragile distance between you was terrifying.

So, instead, you stayed where you were, sipping your drink and trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened every time your gaze found him.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and music, Kiro's voice occasionally breaking through your haze as she dragged you into a conversation or made you clink glasses with her in some impromptu toast.

A/N: hey guys, hope you enjoyed my lil creation of westworld x alien: romulus, andy. tbh im so in love with the concept jajajaj...part 2 will be up tomorrow, trying not to spam posts...

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

The Tour VII

Author’s Note: this chapter was way longer than intended but I had so much I had to get in! Warning: swearing, smut

The club is absolutely pumping as you make your way inside. You’re immediately escorted to a VIP area that overlooks the entire club, waitresses standing at attention ready to take orders. You see the lust in their eyes as they take in all the men, paying particular attention to Colson. You push down your feelings of jealousy and give your order to the young brunette, who looks barely old enough to drink let alone serve you. 

Sophie insists on dancing as soon as the drinks arrive, instructing the boys to keep an eye on our drinks. Sophie leads the way back down the stairs, holding your hand and Ashleigh trails behind you, holding your other hand. You can’t miss the stares of the men around you as the three of you make your way onto the dance floor. 

“How many of them do you think would be turned off if I told them I was a mother?” Ashleigh yells at you over the music. 

“It’s Vegas so probably none of them,” you yell back with a grin. 

The music is loud, your blood is pumping and the rhythm is seeping into your bones. The three of you spin around each other, bumping and grinding as you dance in a tight circle. You’re purposely creating an impenetrable wall as none of you have any interest in being approached by a man. A few guys try to get your attention by pressing up against each of you but you just shove them off. The wall is working well until one guy can’t seem to take a hint. 

A short, stout man with a receding hairline and sunspots littered across his leather skin, puts his hands on your waist and pulls you to him. Your butt lands on his crotch and the small, hard object pressed firmly against your butt cheek makes you want to vomit. You try to push away from him but he just grips you tighter, grinding himself against you. His fingers dig in so hard it hurts but as quickly as he appears, the quicker he disappears. 

You turn around just as Colson rips the man backwards by his collar, sending him flying into the crowd. He grabs your hand and drags you towards an exit door. The door leads to a private hallway, clearly meant for staff but no one says anything as they scurry past the two of you. 

“Are you ok?” Colson looks over your features for any hint of distress but all he sees is pure disgust. 

“I’m fine. You didn’t have to do that,” you mumble and his face falls. “But thank you.”

He smiles at you reaching out to stroke your cheek with the back of his fingers and suddenly you’d rather be anywhere but in this nightclub. Images of having Colson on top of you moaning your name flash through your mind and you cheeks flame. 

“I love the effect I have on you.” 

Colson presses closer to you and all you can smell is him. His deep, rich scent fills your nostrils and you complete space. You reach out to touch his toned torso, liking the way his lips quiver at your touch. You lift his t-shirt slightly so your hand can grace his skin and he rolls his head back with a groan. 

“Fuck honey,” he grits through his teeth. 

“We should go,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and Colson’s head flicks down to you. 

He wastes no time. Grabbing your wrist he leads you down the hallway to a small room, a group of employees sitting around chatting. Colson pulls out a crisp $100 bill and instructs one of them to show him out the back door. A young guy with acne scars and oily hair stands and leads the two of you through the room to a service entry. Colson hands him the bill before grabbing your hand and leading you down the street. He hails a cab and instructs the driver to the parking lot that the buses are parked in. 

You text Ashleigh to tell her you don’t feel well and that Colson is going to take you back to the bus. 10 minutes later she replies with a ‘Feel better and make sure he doesn’t leave your side’. 

Oh, he definitely won’t be leaving my side for the rest of the night. 

When you arrive back at the bus, your driver is nowhere in sight but Colson pulls a key out of his back pocket and unlocks the door. He steps aside so you can go in first and closes the door behind him. As soon as the door is closed, your lips are on his. The shock of your advancement causes him to stumble back but he regains his balance and steadies the two of you. He lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist and walks you backwards to his bedroom. 

Colson kicks the door open and places you on the bed, resting between your legs. Every now and then, he grinds his hips down on you, rubbing his hard cock on your soaking panties. The move is so infrequent that it catches you off guard every time. You tear his t-shirt off, scraping your nails down his back.

“I want to finish what I started earlier,” you tell him in between kisses and he leans back to stare down at you. 

He nods and lies himself down on the bed, kicking off his shoes, flicking on a small lamp and allowing you to take control. Suddenly, you’re very nervous. You can feel his eyes on you and it makes you unbelievably self-conscious. It’s not like you’ve never given a blowjob before but with Colson, somehow it feels more intimate than with anyone else you’ve been with. 

When you gave him one earlier, well half of one, you were confident because you had no intention of finishing it. You wanted to tease him, to torture him with a hanging fruit that was just out of his reach. Now you feel the pressure of being within reach. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Colson whispers, reading the hesitation on your face. 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…Can you close your eyes?” you ask him and he eyes you suspiciously. 

“You’re not going to strip me down and run off with all my clothes like some bad teen movie, are you?” you giggle but shake your head at his ridiculous concern. 

He obliges and closes his eyes, resting his arms behind his head. You lift his shirt, running your fingers along his snail trail to the waistband of his pants. His breathing stops and he bites his bottom lip at your touch. You undo the button of his jeans and drag his zipper down slowly, your confidence returning. You trail kisses from hip bone to hip bone and Colson bucks each time your lips drag across his skin. 

“Fuck baby,” he mewls and a smile plays on your lips. 

“Just sit back and relax, daddy,” you growl and he groans. 

You pull his pants and briefs down to his knees. His dick springs free of its confines, throbbing and twitching. You’re surprised he’s not in pain from how angry and contort the veins appear to be. You gently caress a finger from his balls, up the underside of his shaft, to the tip. Colson tries to remain neutral but you can see it’s slowly torturing him. His fingers flex on the bed sheet, gripping tightly and releasing. You smile to yourself gently as you lick up and down his shaft.

“Yeah, right there…mmm fuck, just like that,” he encourages you with his deep raspy voice.

You bob your head faster, twisting your wrists as you pump up and down. The sound of Colson’s low moans and curses only egg you on. Your mouth and hand is moving so fast, everything is a blur. He growls before suddenly releasing himself from your mouth with a loud pop. He drags you up the bed, flipping you onto your back and mounting you. He holds your hands above your head, kissing down your neck to the top of your cleavage. You writhe and whine beneath him.

“Please, let me touch you,” you beg as your body heats with each drag of his lips.

He said nothing, instead continuing his descent down your body. He uses one slender finger to move your thong out of the way, exposing your dripping pussy to him. He kisses up your thigh, dipping his nose between your lips to inhale your scent. You’re practically panting for him by this point. He licks the length of your slip, a low growl escaping your lips and your hips lift off the bed. 

“Stay still,” he commands before dipping his tongue into your tight hole.

A flash of colour fills your vision at the feeling of his rough tongue but you push against every instinct to move. He begins to lap the juices that drip from your pussy, turning you on more and more. He grinds his face against you, his nose occasionally hitting your clit.

“Please, Kells, I need you,” you beg him again and this time, your words hit him hard.

Colson looks up from between your legs, the desperation on your face turning him on more than he thought possible. Hearing your breathy voice beg for him is too irresistible.h winds his way back up your body, kissing you deeply, passionately. His tongue slips its way between your parted lips and caresses your own. 

He lines himself up, still holding your wrists in his hand, and slips himself in slowly. You take a moment to adjust to his size but once he begins to pull back, you’re practically purring. Goosebumps erupt on your skin but you don’t feel at all cold. If anything, your skin feels on fire with him above you. He holds your wrists in both his hands, sitting half up to look down at your face as he begins a steady pace. He stares down at you, memorising everything you do. The way your face contorts when he hits just the right spot, the way you bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming, the way your eyes flutter as he slips back into your tight pussy. He wants to remember every single second of his time with you because he doesn’t know when he will get it again. 

An overwhelming feeling begins to fill you as his pace quickens and Colson is pounding into you. You feel it start low in your belly, a burning that just can’t be extinguished. You grind yourself on his hard dick, meeting him thrust for thrust. You let him feel you, begging for him like a drug hitting your bloodstream. The fire builds, winding its way up your chest, spreading to your fingers and toes. Just as the fire feels as though it may burn you a wave crashes over you and your orgasm bursts through you.

“FUCK KELLS!” you cry out just as the door to the tour bus opens.

Colson immediately covers your mouth with his lips, swallowing your moans and curses. Your body quivers as you try and calm down from your high. You’re trying so hard to stay quiet but the orgasm that is currently raking through your body is shattering any shred of self-control you have. His lips quirk into smile against yours as he hides any ounce of sound that tries to escape. He continues to grind against you, riding out your high with you. A knock at the door grinds his thrusts to a complete stop and you whine against his lips.

“Shhhh,” he whispers against your lips and you nod. The knock turns frantic however and he’s forced to respond. “What?!” he calls out and you can tell his tone was harsher than he intended because he looks almost guilty.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Ashleigh asks through the door. “She told me she didn’t feel well but she’s not in her bunk.”

“She’s in here…uhh asleep,” he grumbles, winking at you.

“Oh,” is all Ashleigh says and you can tell she’s confused.

“The bunk was making her feel nauseous so I said she could lie down in here,” he quickly adds.

You’re confused as to why he felt the need to clarify further. Normally he doesn’t give a fuck what conclusions people make. Ashleigh instructs him to text her if your condition worsens, before heading back to her own bus. Colson turns back to you, a grin splitting his face but your own expression is dark. You know it’s a dumb thing to focus on but something about his reaction bothers you. The fact that he felt the need to explain why you’re in his room considering you’re nothing more than friends, at least that’s what everyone else thinks, feels…insulting. Given the fact that he’s still inside you, you’re caught as to how to bring it up without sounding whiny or clingy.

“Why did you say that?” you ask him calmly, as he kisses your neck again.

“Say…what?” he returns between kisses and you roll your eyes, placing a hand on his chest to force him to look at you.

“Give Ashleigh some shitty excuse as to why I’m in here. Like, I can’t just be in here with you alone because what would people think?” your calm tone is slipping and you have to take a deep breath to regain your composure.

Colson’s face drops and he reaches to stroke his thumb along your cheek. “No, that’s not how I meant it, I just didn’t want her to keep asking questions while we’re, you know,” he looks down to where the two of you connect and a blush creeps across your face. “I wasn’t done with you yet,” he whispers in your ear and your insides quiver.

Before you can say anything, he pulls out of you before slamming back into you. You cry out in pleasure and he repeats the move over and over. Just when you don’t think it could get better, he flips you onto your stomach and takes your from behind. Pounding into you, he spanks you in between thrusts.

“Fuck, I love watches your ass jiggle for me,” he growls before landing a loud smack onto your cheek.

You’re not sure if it’s his words, his thrusts or his spanking or a combination of all three but an unexpected orgasm tears through you.

“That’s it…baby, cum…for daddy,” Colson strains between thrusts before his cock twitches inside of you and he fills you with his load.

He collapses on top of you. His breaths fanning your neck, causing your hair to swirl against your skin. As Colson softens, he pulls out of you, lying next to you. You have to pee, you know you have to pee but you’re worried he’ll leave again. Where’s he going to go though? It’s not like he can run off to a hotel room or something. As if reading your mind, he rolls towards you with a small smile on his lips.

“Stay with me tonight?” he whispers before kissing you gently. 

You’re nodding before you can overthink it and you skip to the bathroom. When you come back to the room, Colson is lying under the sheets, his arm under his head, and he stares up at the ceiling. The lamp is still on but has been dimmed and it bathes the room in a soft yellow light. You sit on the other side of the bed and he regards you for a moment, his eyebrows raised.

“Wouldn’t that dress be uncomfortable to sleep in?” he asks as you lie down next to him. You look down, almost forgetting you were wearing it.

“Hmm, it’s a strong possibility,” you smile at him. 

He frowns and slips out from under the sheets, rummaging around the floor. He picks up his earlier discarded t-shirt and hands it to you. You smile at his sweet gesture. You know damn well that your pjs are not that far away but who are you to turn down a boy’s t-shirt? You lift your dress over your head, dropping it at your feet. Colson’s eyes drag over your half naked body, your red thong and lack of bra on full display. His mouth hangs open and you know you will never get over his reaction to your body. It makes your whole body blush every time. You pull his shirt over your head and it falls mid-thigh. 

When the shirt is on, you slip your thong off and tuck it under your dress on the floor. You climb back into the bed and Colson immediately pulls you to his chest, cradling you against him. He reaches behind him to flick off the lamp and you drift into unconsciousness, the feeling of his warm body against yours and the sound of his deep breathing in your ear.

[rubberduckswriting]

Under the mask •|Sally face|•

Summery: after Travis and sal have been dating for a few months sal decides to show Travis his face

Ships: salvis

Tw: maybe a little gore, slight angst, fluff

Travis and sal had been dating for a few months, and they had slowly gotten more intimate with each other. But sal hadn't shown Travis his face yet. It was totally understandable, though. After all the bullying he had endured by Travis's hand it would be difficult to be that vulnerable. But after a few months sal figured it was about time Travis saw him without the mask, no matter how disgusting he may look.

So as the two sat on sals bed watching a movie, sal thought it the perfect time. "So..Travis." sal turned his head towards Travis, catching his attention. "Yeah?" Travis turned to him and tilted his head, a sweet smile plastered on his face. "Do..um do you wanna..y'know..see my face?" sal tilted his head and twiddled his thumbs nervously, causing gizmo to come up on the bed and sit next to sal to calm him down. Travis's eyes softened a bit at his question. "Of course. That is if your comfortable" Travis turned his whole body to face sal and put his hands in his lap.

Sal looked down "you sure? It's pretty nasty." Sal gave an unsure glanced at Travis as he put a soft hand on gizmo. "I'm sure." Travis spoke assuredly with a ready nod. Sal nodded and unclipped the back of the mask. And held it in place for a moment. "promise you won't scream or run or throw up or something?" Travis could see the worry in sals eye. "promise." Travis spoke softly and confidently, giving sal enough confidence to shakily lower the mask from his face. Travis said nothing, just stared at sals face.

It was quite a grotesque sight, but Travis thought it was beautiful. A chunk of sals jaw was missing and part of his lip had been torn off. A large scar went across sals face and went through his fake eye and nose. The cartilage on sals nose was almost completely ripped off. His face looked torn to shreds, but some skin remained.

Sal grew more and more nervous the more Travis stared. "I'm sorry. I know it's not pretty." Sal stuttered as he covered up his face once again. "no. It's beautiful. You are beautiful." Travis took sals hands in his and looked sal straight in the eyes. Sal felt hot tears well in his eyes. Travis thought he was beautiful?he let out a choked sob and looked up at travis "wait no don't cry. Did I say something wrong?" Travis's face twisted with worry as he put his hands out to comfort sal without knowing how. "N-no. You- you s-said I was b-beautiful." Sal barely managed to stutter those words out. He didn't know how he was expecting Travis to act but it wasn't this.

Travis hugged sal and pulled him close, shushing him softly. "You are beautiful, sal. Absolutely gorgeous. I love you so much." Sal clung onto Travis's sweater as if he would disappear if he didn't. This stuff happened almost Everytime he revealed his face to someone. He would show them, they would say something he wasn't prepared for, he would cry without fail. But this was different. He was so afraid Travis would leave and go right back to bullying him. "I-i love you" sal whispered as he dug his face into Travis's chest.

"I love you to sal. Your the best thing that ever happened to me" Travis smiled and whispered back before kissing sals forehead. Sal smiled to himself, showing Travis was definitely worth it.