#and thinking: this shouldn't feel like water in the desert

[beingatoaster]

man I don't mean to be a bitch, and people can write what they want, but when I ship characters who have tension between them, resentment/bitterness or rough history or even just giving each other a hard time, that's part of the ship for me and it sucks when people make that go away as soon as they get together. like, cozy domesticity years later with vague reference to old issues fading is one thing, but when McCoy stops sniping at Spock or whatever the moment they kiss and suddenly they're calling each other pet names and being super saccharine... my first thought is always, why did you ruin it?

(this also applies to, and given some of my ships overlaps with, reconciliation stories, which are real common in Genshin because a couple fan-favorites have tensions around past incidents/arguments. whether platonic or romantic, the dynamic doesn't change instantly when one character says "I love you and I'm sorry"--it changes slowly over time as they (both, ideally) demonstrate that, and work out who they are in the aftermath, and that's the only way in which taking that tension out is interesting to me. if it's a shortcut to healthy well-adjusted schmoopy kisses and/or snuggles then you have once again Ruined It for me)

[eldritch-spouse]

You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

[sashiavi]

Kent ramble incoming ehehe.. gonna be dumping all my nasty old man ideas onto you and neet cause i love how u two write him <33 (if that’s all right, that is)

But ive been thinking ab the farmer going to a free use/glory hole & Kent following her.. she’s trying to get her feelings for Kent out of her system with an anonymous fuck but she ends up getting used by him without her even realizing. He ends up giving himself away while they fuck and he makes sure she can’t do anything but take it while he admonishes her for even thinking about going to anyone else- nobody will be able to fuck her like he can ( ˋ⁻̫ˊ) Ψ

@neetily we're being fed •///• and now my brain has been sparked, whoops, I wrote smth..

Need Kent to dump his cu

Longing for Kent at the Glory Holes</3

Warnings: age gap, implied infidelity, glory holes, cum.. like a lot of it... piv, fingering, cunilingus, daddy talk, choking, general sashiavi nastiness yk how it is

Word Count - 2k

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You knew you were wrong for it. Watching the older man from across the bar, late nights at the saloon, knowing better that you shouldn't- You couldn't! You cannot be thinking about him like this.

Not when you're best friends with his son, always around the house, coming out of Sam’s room for a glass of water when you know Kent would be lounged on the couch - Just to give him a little, nervous wave. It was wrong.. skittering around his home with his family around, catching a greedy glimpse of him any time you could, eyes flicking to him at the dining table after his own wife had invited you to stay for supper.

You shouldn't eye him up like that at the luau, eyes locked on to the heavy drag of his boardshorts, weighted down with the drippings of ocean water. Just below his tummy, soft with age and fit with his lifestyle, happy trail moist and tacky against his skin as it disappears into his bottoms. The fabric runs taught on his hipbones, deliciously low before the show is over and he pulls them up with a hook of his thick finger.

You're embarrassing yourself - Wearing pretty outfits in his presence, that ditzy demeanour truly born up from the bubble of anxiety swirling in your tummy from just being around him! So nervous and stuttery, dolly eyes flicking up to Kent's hardened gaze.. Of course it works, of course he starts cracking, falling for a sweet cutie like you.

But you don't know that- So lost in your worrying, dreamy and sweetly moaning into your knuckles as your cunt squelches around your fingers, milky and gushy insides making a mess on your fingers. Crying for him, mewling out his name unapologetically as you carefully sink yourself down on your new dildo - Silky and velvet silicone, fat in width, kissing yours insides while your vibrator buzzes aggressively against your pert clit in an attempt to soothe the wild stretch.

But soon that's not enough, is it? Such fantasies carried out all alone? You needed more, but you couldn't have him... Right?

You couldn't fool around in town either - Whispers would carry faster than the wind. You needed an out.

The Calico Desert was far enough.. An elusive Casino stands with an underground secret, Red Rooms for pleasure, anonymous glory holes for those who just needed a release with no strings attached. A perfect place for your fantasies, with real partners to play with!

Especially your new mystery man..

With his weighty cock poking through the cut out hole in the wall, struggling to stand tall with the sheer thickness of it, bobbing with arousal. It was pulsey, a thick vein running up the undershaft giving a flex as blood rushed to the rosy pink tip oozing up droplets of milky pre cum, practically dripping like drool, Yoba, it was as if it was crying for you.

He was thick, girth making irony saliva pool under your tongue, swallowing proving pointless at the sight of this cock - Picture perfect for your fantasy, a thick brush of hair on his base and balls, sack hanging heavy surely filled with plenty of thick, ropey cum. Scent the perfect musk, it felt manly- One of the traits that drew you to liking Kent in the first place!

Not like the people you hung out with, those younger males that could be the picture perfect partner for you, save for just how unsure they were about everything. Or those other Bachelors.. A little older and still just as lost- Kent had a bout of maturity attached to him, life seemingly plenty figured out, stable.. And yet you wanted to break it down.

Any guilt that dared to ping in your chest didn't last long. Not with the crane of your partner's hips, forcing the head of his cock to press a wet kiss to your cheek. If only he could see the hearts in your eyes, the dribble of spit that slipped from your tongue as you licked your lips

Soon, his length was down your throat, fat and chubby tip gagging up a sweet gurlgy moan, spitty and slick from your lips, wrapped around his thick length. He played rough with you, a heavy hand coming through the hole opening, thick fingers twirling into your hair for a better grip. Forcing your throat to be a personal toy, a rough face fucking you could only dream about.

You jaw aches, stingy with the stretch of this stranger's girth, tongue sore from rough use- Your eyes roll, bleary and pooled with fat tears, looking up all crossyee at nothing, pretending you were locking eyes with the Military Man that had tugged on your heart. Soft hazels surely hardens with a scrunch of his brow, nose crinkled in hot pleasure.. You blink your tears, letting them roll down your cock filled cheeks.

Your pussy drools, pooling behind the sheeny fabric of your panties, sticky to the touch of your fingers as you rub, easily bleeding through the fabric. Your mind chants his name, over and over like a mantra, 'Kent, Kent, Kent~!' Throwing in dirty-sweet petnames into the mix, Would he let you call him Sir? Mister Military Man so strong and authoritive? Would he groan if you cried out something more? 'Daddy, Daddy! Oh pleaseee Daddy!' Begging on your knees for him, that gentle and sweet family man taking out all those frustrations on your body. You breathe against your mystery man's base, huffy and hyper, desperate to take him all.

It's so much, maybe even too much. The perfect fantasy nearly coming true! Just missing that one main ingredient..

No time to think now though, right? Not when your mystery man groans from behind his gritted teeth, fist tightening in your hair when he busts himself down your throat, a healthy dump of cum squirting rope after rope. It's a wonder you don't choke - more than you already had been - With the thick white paint of his cum load, sputtering from your cheeks with a struggled cough fron yourself. He uses it like lube, hips snapping to fuck himself through it all, long and strong, milking out Every. Last. Drop.

You don't want it to end. Wanna keep the lovely weight of this stranger's cock nestled sweetly on your tongue, wanna pepper Kisses and Kitten licks over his flushed tip, wanna imagine you were pampering your older crush, treating him sweeter than any other could.

Ah but he pulls away, forcing up a pitifully sad whine from your throat, making you swallow thickly, savouring the remnants of that musky milky cum he'd gifted you. You lament in the loss, lips pouted in a little wobble, heart hammering blood to your head, beating with the achy throb of your neglected cunt.

The hand in your hair moves to your cheek, cupped warm, skin rough, a calloused thumb tracing over your swollen, cum stained lips.

"S' your turn. Yeah?" His voice was deep. Rasped and rough with a twinge of an accent, hearty and southern, tainted with a touch of age. Yoba your heart flutters- This was too good to be true!

You dare to peek, watery, doe eyes looking up at this man woth a doll-like look, seeing the outline of his features in the dim light - God your chest pangs, a spike of embarrassment, lust, nervousness, excitement, arousal - His thumb pulls on your bottom lip, dragging the swollen plumpness before he let's it go with a pop.

"S'Get 'outta here." The corner of his mouth barely lifts into a quip of a smirking grin.

"Kent..?" Disbelief gnaws at your tone. He only hums, a short sound of agreeance, kicking his head in the direction of the more intimate rooms with a short lift of his chin.

Ooh he treats you well. Head between your legs, lips smacking at the folds of your pussy, heavy hands planted on your thighs while his battle-worn fingers wrap around, blunt nails digging into your soft and sensitive flesh. He feasts like a starved man, suckling at your supple-sweet wetness, fat lapping licks of his pink tongue, jamming the muscle into your cunt hole before he's back on your clit. You squeal and squeak, fingers tugging at his hair, weaving into desperate fists, grinding your core on his lips and tongue- Yoba he takes it too, works with your movements, following your hips in sweet tandem.

He's rough with your cunt, spitting a fat glob of hot saliva before he laps it up, hazel eyes on you as he does so before they flutter shut with a scrunch of his brow and a shake of his head- Devouring your pussy once again, nose jutting into your clit while his tongue fucks past the ring of your pussy.

You have to be ready for him, yeah? Nice and wet and gushy.. Squirting all over his face before he even thinks about sinking his cock into you.

He makes you lick it off of his lips, tongue cleaning up the mess you left on his chin and cheeks, stealing hot slick and saliva filled kisses in the mix, tongues swirling, catching and suckling against eachother as two deft fingers jam into your waiting cunt.

Your fingers were incomparable to his own, too small to reach into the depths of your sweetness, too weak to curl and finger bang the fuck out of your poor pussy, squelchy and wet despite the messy squirt of your orgasm.

"Eyes on me, Darl'.." Kent orders, voice softer than his actions. Your lips part, jaw dropped in hot pleasure, eyes going into a blurred fuzz, his features disappearing as his fingers curl and curl and curl- Until you're left empty, gasping as fingers smack lovingly on your sticky clit, spiky pain and pleasure jutting up your body.

You're not empty for long though, easily plugged up with the thickness of Kent's cock, slowly sinking into your prepped up pussy just like you always imagined with your silly silicone toy. He kisses you through it, the whines and wobbly frown, a hand coming to rest a supple squeeze on your throat, hushing you as he bottoms out.

"S'okay Darlin'.." He coos roughly, hips beginning to hump a pace, rolling grinds against your public mound. "S'What you wanted, right Dolly? Yeahhh? Pretty lil' fuck doll aren'tcha? Thaaaats right.." All coos and sweet words despite the mean squeeze of his palm on your throat and the quick snapping of his hips.

Yoba, he mounts you. Hooking his free palm under your leg, knee to ear while he pounds at your pussy. Plap, plap, plap, skin on skin, wet and slick from the thin sheen of sweat that dared to wash over your skin and the gush of fluids from your supple cunt.

This was it- this was everything you had ever imagined, your perfectly lewd fantasy finally coming to fruition, taking the Kent's thick married cock, lovingly squeezing at his girth, hearts in your eyes as you choke a choppy babble past the tenseness of his hand on your throat; "Wa..nt need- Lov- Y..ou... please- Da..ddy...~"

It's enough to have Kent groaning deep, once fast fucking hips favouring a hard Roll. Slow. Mean. Snapping. Thrusts. Breath huffed in time with his hips, teeth grit as he speaks.

"Tryana' be my Baby? Hmmm?? Daddy's. Sweet. Lil'. Girl?" Words punctuated with his thrusts, pudgy tip kissing your insides with every snap. It seems to have triggered something in him, hazel eyes blown up, pupils dilated big and black, sweat dripping from his brow. "Daddy's sweet n'- Fuck.. His pretty Dolly, yeah??" You nod, strained against the hand on your throat, his fingers guaring your jaw, movement limited, the most pathetic and eager little nod he'd ever seen.

His hand comes off, planting under your other knee and you're manhandled into a dirty mating press, cock drilling into your poor pussy from above.

You knew you were wrong for it. And you're sure he knows it too. But Yoba be dammed if you ever go back to pitiful, longing looks from across the bar after this.

[himasgod]

Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers III

Where you keep pressuring him to admit his impartiality to you

You've always worked alone, for years, with the sole objective of uncovering the whole truth about Fontaine. All the corruption that runs through the veins of the Court and the Tribunal. So, you have Neuvillette in the crosshairs of your shotgun, able to destroy his life and dethrone him in an instant. But he could also ruin yours. So, you decide to play with fire against each other, to see who crumbles first.

Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers! PART I

Neuvillette x Reader enemies to lovers! PART II

(I'm taking advantage of his birthday to make another part of the fanfic, happy bday to Neuvi and enjoy <3)

The rain had not stopped since that night. Fontaine seemed caught in a perpetual storm, as if the sky itself refused to grant respite. It was not difficult to suspect the cause; the rumors in the city were as persistent as the water that slid down the cobblestone streets: the Iudex was restless. But no one dared to say it out loud.

You couldn't stop thinking about it either.

Since that last confrontation in the tavern, the days had become tense. Neuvillette had not crossed your path, but his presence was almost ghostly, stalking you in every corner of Fontaine. The stares of the Court guards, the constant feeling that someone was watching you, and the echoes of your own words that night… everything had become a reminder that you were playing with fire.

"You're obsessing," your reflection whispered to you as you looked at yourself in a fogged-up window. "You shouldn't think about him."

Pero pensar en él era inevitable. Había algo en la manera en que Neuvillette se comportaba contigo, algo que desafiaba su imagen de imparcialidad y serenidad.

A crack in its facade.

And a dangerous part of you wanted to see how far that crack went.

The opportunity came sooner than expected.

That night, as the storm raged with renewed fury, the echo of a secret meeting crept into your ears. You were no stranger to Fontaine’s intrigues: corrupt politicians, merchants peddling information, and you… you hovered on the edge, where Neuvillette’s laws couldn’t quite reach you.

Or so you thought.

You had very powerful contacts within Fontaine's dangerous lower class.

You had access to the most fragile information that could crumble Fontaine society in an instant.

You didn't work with other people, you didn't belong to criminal organizations or gangs. You worked on your own, you just needed to know the truth, you didn't need to prove it to anyone else.

But you wanted to know the truth about Fontaine, and you had been trying for years, years of having Neuvillette in the crosshairs of a shotgun of information that could ruin his life in an instant.

And you in his.

“If you go there, you won’t come out unscathed,” an old acquaintance warned you as he handed you the meeting location on a crumpled piece of paper. “The eyes of the Tribunal are everywhere.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, stuffing the paper into your coat before disappearing into the night.

The location was an old mansion on the edge of Fontaine with the Sumeru desert, abandoned for years. The windows were broken, the walls covered in mold, and the sound of rain seeping through the broken roof created a mournful melody. But inside, in the main room, a group of figures gathered around a table. Their voices mingled with the thunder, barely audible.

You hid behind a broken column, listening just enough to know that the meeting was not what you expected. They were traitors, conspirators, men and women seeking to challenge Fontaine’s equilibrium. And, unwittingly, you had become too involved in their game.

“What if someone discovers us?” one of them asked nervously.

“No one will. The Tribunal is blind under this storm.”

A laugh ran through the room, but you did not share its assurance. Because then you felt it. A presence, powerful and suffocating, like the weight of the ocean itself bearing down on you. You turned instinctively, your pulse racing.

And there he was.

Neuvillette stood in the doorway of the main door, his figure framed by the lightning that lit up the sky. His cloak swayed in the wind, soaked through, and his eyes—those eyes as clear as water—remained on you. The murmur of the conspirators faded immediately, replaced by an oppressive silence.

“How disappointing.” His voice rumbled through the room like distant thunder. The people in the room stepped back, and for a moment, it seemed to you that the very air had grown thicker. “I thought Fontaine was capable of more.”

“It’s him!” one of the conspirators shouted, unsheathing a weapon. “Finish him!”

It all happened in an instant. The room erupted into chaos, men drew weapons, and you, in the midst of it all, tried to get away from the center of the battle. But you couldn’t take your eyes off Neuvillette. He didn’t move at first, not even when the blades flashed in his direction. Only when the first attacker was close enough did he raise a hand, and with a subtle gesture, a column of water erupted from the ground, enveloping the man and throwing him against a wall.

There was no mercy in his gaze. There was no anger, not even fury… only something infinitely more dangerous: absolute judgment.

—¡Correremos la misma suerte si no corremos! —gritó otro, y uno a uno comenzaron a huir, sus pasos resonando en el eco vacío de la mansión.

Neuvillette no los persiguió. Se quedó allí, observándolos.

“Why am I not surprised?” you muttered, trying to catch your breath. Rain had begun to seep through the roof, and water formed puddles at your feet. “The great Supreme Judge, once again, right where you least expected him.”

He advanced towards you slowly, his expression unfazed. But there was something in his gaze that made you back away, until your back hit a column.

“What did you expect to find here?” he asked in a calm voice, although his tone seemed to cut through the air. “One more game? Or do you no longer care which side you're on?”

“I'm not on anyone's side,” you snapped, trying to maintain your composure. “Don't confuse me with them."

“And what is the difference between you and them?” he replied, coming close enough for the sound of his voice to seep under your skin. “You defy the law, justice, and yet you expect me to treat you with leniency.”

“And what do you expect from me?” you blurted out, unable to contain yourself. “I know the truth of Fontaine, the one you want to keep under water. I am not someone who bows to your ‘justice.’”

A flash of lightning illuminated his face at that instant, and for a moment you saw something different in him: a shadow of doubt, or perhaps… frustration. His hand rose, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you. But he didn’t. He stopped just inches from your face, water slipping through his fingers.

“You are a problem,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the storm. “But one I cannot ignore.”

“Then don’t,” you challenged, your breathing ragged. “Judge me as you judge others. But you know as well as I do that you are not impartial. Not with me."

Neuvillette didn’t answer. His hand trembled slightly, and then, as if something broke him from within, he jerked away.

“Get out of here,” he ordered, his voice now harsher, colder. “Before I myself decide to end this.”

“Why don’t you?” you challenged, taking a step toward him. “Why do you keep…?”

“Get out!” His voice boomed like thunder, and a gust of water exploded between you, forcing you to cover your face.

When you looked up, Neuvillette had already turned around, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the mansion. The storm raged around him, but he seemed to be part of it, a judge as implacable as the sea itself.

And you, for the first time, began to understand that the crack in his facade was not something you should keep pushing. But it was too late.

The storm wasn't over. And neither was what was between you.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[bumblesimagines]

Grizz (The Society)

by the time i woke up, you were gone.

it was a mistake to hook up like that.

you've always been on my mind.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Mentions of drinking, best friend trope, grizz is the best i love him

I haven't finished watching the show but i will try to

(Y/N) listened to the neverending ringing coming from his phone, his head tilted back along the backrest of the couch as he stared blankly at the ceiling. The anxiety curled around his body had become a familiar feeling, suffocating and constantly reminding him of how fucked things were in West Ham. Everyone who hadn't gone on the godforsaken buses were gone, leaving the town completely and utterly deserted. All roads and tracks leading out of town were unnaturally overgrown by the forest around and the service only allowed for them to contact each other. 

"Fuck," He whispered and pulled the phone from his ear, his teeth grinding together when his mother's contact picture flashed on the screen while her voicemail began, echoing words he'd memorized. He'd never given much thought to how terrifying and panic-inducing it'd be to suddenly lose contact with his whole family. 

After reluctantly hanging up, he peeled himself off the couch and approached the front door. There was little to do apart from attempting to distract himself through drinking and partying but everything still loomed over him: the absence of adults, the almost neverending forest that seemingly attacked when they walked too far, the slow death of Emily he witnessed, the unknown. He fought hard to push it back, to push the thoughts away and focus on the present. 

(Y/N) took the keys from the table by the door and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him and heading down the driveway to the car parked along the sidewalk. He remembered vividly when they first arrived at West Ham years prior. The neighbors had been welcoming, as had his new classmates, allowing him and his family to settle in with ease. It all felt so long ago. 

"(Y/N)!" His best friend's voice rang out through the street and he froze, his eyes briefly squeezing shut before he turned in the direction of Grizz. The boy quickened his pace into a jog, his brows fixed into a worried furrow. "Hey, I.. I was, uhm... I was going to make breakfast but by the time I woke up, you were gone. I- I got worried, you know? Are you okay?"

"I don't think any single one of us is fine, Grizz." (Y/N) murmured, his eyes drifting over to Emily's memorial down the street where two of her friends stood by staring down at it as if waiting for her to return to them. "I was, uh.. I was going to check the grocery store. I wanted to see if any of my stress-eating snacks are still there or if everyone's ransacked what's left."

"I've got some," Grizz said. "I always have your favorite at my place."

(Y/N)'s teeth caught his lips, digging in and lightly peeling skin as his heart squeezed. Drinking and drinking and drinking the night before had been... "I.. Grizz, it was a mistake to hook up like that." He spoke softly, watching the way Grizz's face fell. It'd been on him, really. It was stupid of him to convince Grizz to drink their sorrows and worries away, stupid of him to kiss the only guy he fully trusted with his life. "I.. I was scared. I don't like being scared, you know that. I.. I don't know what I was thinking but we- I shouldn't have kissed you and we shouldn't have..."

"I didn't see it as a mistake," Grizz admitted quietly, his hand reaching out to wrap around (Y/N)'s wrist. His brown eyes watered slightly and he laughed quietly, nervously as he blinked the tears away. "I- God, I, uhm... you've always been on my mind... ever since you walked into 8th grade English. I know I.. I ignored you most of that year, even when the guys introduced us, but I'm glad you had more balls than me to ask what was up when you joined the football team. I've always liked you, (Y/N). Always. I-I thought maybe when we graduated I'd finally confess but seeing our situation right now and what happened last night.. I don't want you to think I kissed you back 'cause I was drunk. We were wasted but I kissed you 'cause it's all I've been wanting to do for years."

[dragonridernoobie]

Hello! I don't know if you're still staring intensely at your inbox bored... but! I can give you something to do for a little while if you'd like . It's my first asking, so I'll try to be simple.

How about a one-shot of Ganondorf x reader, where they both used to know each other well romantically before ganondorf became the god of power. (When he was still the king of gerudo), the reader could've been a simple traveler who traveled through the desert (they could be injured due to battles against monsters on the way there) and found themselves in the gerudo town or something where they met him in the market in disguise cause he try sometime to find peace away from all the responsibilities once in a while and they bond over thing they both like.

Some time passes, and their feelings to each other grow more and more until the reader has to leave because of an emergency at their hometown (idk a family member is sick and they need special treatment that is very hard to get) so they leave while promising to ganondorf to come back once the situation is over. But they never do.

Heartbroken and angry ganondorf becomes the god of power, and after some times the reader goes back only to find out by the new ruler of gerudo that he became the man that brought hyrule to ruins.

Idk maybe something with a little bit of hope at the end? The reader could meet link and help him get to the palace. Like they see the man they fall in love with still inside the corrupted being in front of them. And tries to bring him back?

It's a long ask, and it's totally fine if you don't want to write it or have the time to do it (I know it's a lot energy to write) But if it gave you ideas for a new story or inspired you little than that's all that matter 😉. Anyways! Have a wonderful day or night.

A ask is never too long, I'm sorry if this took so long. I was trying to think of a way to make this a good way of writing it. Since I write in so many ways. So, I decided to make it seem like a story. I hope you like it or love it, I'm fine with either. Thank you for being Paitent!!!! (Also, i changed the story a bit since I've never seen or played BOTW2, and I rather not spoile it for my self.)

The story of the human and the Gerudo King

Long ago, when life was still new and people were still new to the land. Lived 6 different races that rule these lands.

The first hylians came to the land from the goddess Hylia. They created the Hylians as the first race of Hyrule.

And from that race, came all 5 other races.

Rito, hyilans who became one with the sky. Zoras, hyains who became one with the water. Gorons, hyians who became one with the ground. Gerudos, hyians who have split off and became one of their own.

They are a unique species since they only live in the desert. Where they first became is unknown hut they are known for being made of woman and woman only.

But every 100 years, a male is born from a Gerudo, and it becomes the new king of the Gerudo.

The six species are unknown. No one rarely sees them, no one knows about them, but we only know one thing.

They are wise. They have ways to cure the most evil sickness. They know how to survive in places that shouldn't be possible, and they are hard to kill.

Sadly, at one point in time, a king who was ruler of Hyrule found where these humans were and declared war on them. He slaughtered all of them. Their species were lost in time, and no one them about them.

And this is where our legend begins

Before calamity himself became, to be, there used to be a simple king of his lands of the Gerudo. His name was Ganondorf.

His people lived in the desert. They struggled but were happy. Ganondorf traded with people across the land. People always wanted to trade with the Gerudos.

So this is where ganondorf met his love.

He was on his way to a city when the bridge he rode on collapsed. He fell great distance and fell in the river below.

Ganondorf disappeared for weeks and his kingdom feared the worst. Intel Ganondorf arrived and even more unexpectedly that he had a few people with him.

Word spread around in the city that the king was alive and the city was happy.

The humans showed the Gerudos their ways, showed them how to get food in unique ways, showed them how to fight aginst sickness and even showed them how to plant foods in the desert.

While the humans showed them their ways, a human named (Y/N) and ganondorf grown feelings for each other. They were happy, and for years, the humans lived with the Gerudos. Even the human males.

Sadly, (Y/N) had to leave. They had to cross the land to reach another human settlement that are in need of help. They told ganondorf they will return and set corse.

Weeks past and ganondorf waited, and waited, and waited, he waited for days, weeks, and months. After so long, ganondorf became angry and hurt. Angry since (Y/N) has left and that the hyilans have caused trouble.

Hurt because he believes (Y/N) abandoned him. So he decided to declare war on the hyilans and kick out the humans.

This is where calamity came to be. When (Y/N) found out what has happened, they were stuck with grief and hurt.

When link awakened and they met (Y/N), they both agreed to defeat calamity. When link was able to defeat calamity (The first BOTW) (Y/N), talked to him before he was slayed by the light bow.

"I promise to keep fighting for you love. Please do the same...."

Once he was slayed, they fled away. Zelda and Link never saw them again. Though, they wernt gone forever. They where just praying and helping their remaining village survive.

Though (Y/N) hopes to have her love once more.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Hehe seeing a lot of NSFW asks, if you're feeling like writing more maybe now the NSFW alphabet for Joshua?

Joshua NSFW Alphabet

➼ Word Count » 1.2k ➼ Warnings » MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic ➼ A/N » Always in the mood for a good alphabet

A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's so kind. He'll scoop you into his arms and carry you down to one of Zion's rivers to wash you. It's peaceful, private, and just fast enough to feel good against your skin. Not to mention how cool the water feels, which is always a bonus when you live in a desert.

B - Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Joshua loves your face. He loves the adoring way you stare up at him or the way your features shift depending on how you feel. He could stare at you for hours. You're the most divine thing he's ever laid his eyes on. He personally doesn't have a favorite part about himself. He considers all of him to be stained with sin, so it'd be disgraceful for him to be drawn to any of it.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He would never dare to cum inside of you. Someone as sinful as him shouldn't be allowed something so sweet. You deserve someone younger - someone who you actually deserve to have children with, or at the very least, cum inside of you. Instead, he just releases himself on the floor.

D - Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes the thought of covering your mouth with bandages to keep you quiet. He won't ever mention it. He thinks it may be too degrading for someone like you, but he does think about it a lot.

E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He hates talking about his past experiences, especially around you. Mostly because he finds it rude and unnecessary, but he has definitely slept with a handful of women before you.

F - Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary (haha 'cause he's literally a missionary). It's pretty basic, but he thinks it's the best position to be in when it comes to appreciating his partner. He likes being able to look at your face and trace his fingers over almost any part of your body he wants, but most importantly, it's the most comfortable for him. His burns sadly don't allow much room for experimenting, so missionary is what he sticks with.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He doesn't like being humorous when participating in something so sacred. As a follower of Christ, he takes the deed very seriously and would be ashamed if he ever took you or the act for granted.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He can't grow hair anymore due to the severity of his burns, so well groomed?

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As I've said before, Joshua takes sex very seriously and would do anything in his power to make you feel that. He'll take you by the hand and gently guide you to an isolated part of Zion, where he'll set up a small camp, cook for you, kiss you, and take you to bed. The romantic parts are one of the most important factors to him, and he never fails to make it a priority.

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate. It can be painful at times and he's too old to be feeling horny all the time.

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He's generally more vanilla in his kinks, but every now and then, he likes to do some light bondage.

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

In a nice, secluded spot in Zion will do. Usually, in a cave of some sort, but as long as it's private, he'll be happy.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He's motivated by you're happiness and pleasure. It might sound cliche, but the only reason he's still fucking is because he likes being able to make you feel good. Even if it hurts him, he feels that it's his duty to honor and worship you in such a way.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He refuses to degrade, harm, or humiliate you in any way. He can't ever imagine anyone doing that to the person they love, and he certainly couldn't imagine doing that to you.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, one because he doesn't feel he deserves something so sweet from you and second because he can't help but cringe at the feeling of teeth against his burn scars.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He prefers to go at a slower pace, one because he doesn't want to hurt you, accident or not, and second, he likes to take his time with you.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The simple answer is no. Joshua doesn't like rushing it with you, especially since neither of you really has to, and would much prefer to take you out on a walk somewhere in Zion before properly pursuing you in that manner. He personally believes that these things were meant to take time, so it's safe to say quickies are off the table.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

No, never. Hurting you or risking your well-being in any way is the last thing he ever wants to do.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Usually, he stops after the first round. He takes his time with it anyway, so it's not like it's disappointing at all. He's just old and struggles to stay horny long enough to please you.

T - Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think he knows what a toy is, but even if he did, I don't see him using them much at all.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He hardly ever teases you. His number one priority when being intimate with you is to give you whatever you desire. He couldn't ever imagine depriving you of anything or subjecting you to any kind of humiliation.

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Joshua doesn't make much sound, but you'll occasionally hear him grunting above you. It's still pretty quiet, though.

W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to pray with you before and after sex. He thinks it's customary to thank God for granting you both the ability to feel and the chance to find one another.

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a good 6 inches, bald, and covered in injuries. It's not pretty to look at, but that doesn't mean it can't make you feel good.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's not very high at all. He's old, and it generally hurts to do. 'Getting it up' is more of a holiday than an everyday occurrence.

Z -Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't like falling asleep afterward, instead, he prefers to hold you and caress gentle symbols into your skin. The Lord gave both of you moments like these to cherish, not to ignore.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Many Languages of Love - Familial (Imprisoning War)

Summary: Merovar & Hemisi share a quiet night together, worrying about their father and their future.

Setting: Calamity Timeline, prior to the Imprisoning War

Crickets chirped, a gentle ambience filling the air softly like water slowly filling a spring. Hemisi stared out at the sky, the stars hazy and distant in the warm summer night, so different from the extreme temperature shifts she'd grown up with in the desert.

"It's still weird being able to sit out here in practically the same clothes as daylight," her brother, Merovar, noted from his perch beside her. The pair had wandered to one of the higher balconies of the castle, sealing the entrance off and climbing up a level to sit on the roof. They'd both wanted some privacy and silence from the chaos below.

"Yeah," Hemisi agreed dully, laying back against the roof.

The siblings didn't speak for a while before Merovar asked, "Do you ever miss home?"

Hemisi huffed. "I thought you liked the fancy stuff here."

"It's not as nice as home," Merovar noted dully. "Hyrule's prize is its natural habitats and resources, not its people or amenities."

"Now you sound like Dad."

Merovar grew silent again as a breeze blew by, playing with their hair.

Hemisi said, "I wish we didn't have to plan to attack this place."

Her brother stiffened a little, whispering, "You shouldn't say it out loud."

"It's true," she emphasized, though more quietly. "I don't want to attack this place. Do you?"

Merovar sighed. "I... don't know. Dad says the Triforce will help us. And I mean... I think it would be pretty amazing. To rule all this. You know?"

"Why?" Hemisi asked, sitting up.

Merovar stared at her. "Why?"

"Why would it be cool to rule this place?" she elaborated, eyes boring into her brother. "Why do we have to bother them and cause that trouble at all? I'm all for a good fight, but it has to be for a good reason."

"You just don't want to fight your boyfriend," Merovar chuckled.

"Give me a reason, Mer."

Her brother's mouth twisted a little in annoyance. "Have you met their king? He's an idiot. We'd be doing Hyrule a favor."

"Who cares about doing Hyrule a favor?" Hemisi questioned. "Dad doesn't."

"No," Merovar agreed immediately, looking away. "He doesn't."

The crickets chirped, though the silence was far less peaceful and pleasant. A heaviness filled the air until Merovar finally broke it.

"Do you think Dad's okay?"

Hemisi didn't choose to argue or provoke her brother. Instead, she bit her lip. "I don't know."

The twins both held a mutual understanding, an observation that their father had grown steadily more obsessed with this mission. Of course, it was an important objective that required a lot of planning. Hemisi knew that. But... when she wasn't caught up having fun with Link, she couldn't help but notice how little he seemed to pay attention to anything pertaining to home anymore.

At least Merovar had noticed as well. It made Hemisi feel less alone.

"Maybe we should talk to him," she suggested. "Just to check on him."

Merovar huffed. "He won't appreciate it."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that. Just because you're his favorite doesn't mean he'll listen to you about this. You haven't been with him as much as I have on this mission. You're too busy fawning over Link."

"I am not," she grumbled. "Ugh, this is stupid. We should just talk to him."

"Whatever." Merovar rolled his eyes. "At least it'll be over soon. You've got the layout of the castle and its patrols memorized, I've got the king talking to me about the Triforce... based on what I got and Dad's planning and spies, we'll probably know the location of the stupid thing by the Festival of Colors."

Hemisi squirmed uncomfortably. She wasn't keen on her part in all this. She didn't want to take Link out of play like her father had asked her to do. She didn't want to betray him like that.

Seeming to read her mind from her body language, Merovar asked, "You think you can do it?"

"I know I can," she replied a little curtly. "It's not a matter of whether I can."

Merovar watched her for a few moments, and his expression grew sad. "He really loves you, you know."

Hemisi grew confused. "Why do you look upset about that? I know he loves me. I love him too."

"Would you marry him?"

"Yeah," she answered fairly quickly. "I would. I want to. But like... this'll... it's so stupid. Can't we just tell him about it? Maybe he thinks--"

"We can't tell him, are you out of your mind?" Merovar hissed. "He's a Sheikah! They're the most loyal to the crown!"

"We already established the king's an idiot," Hemisi argued. "Isn't that why we're doing this, supposedly?"

"Hyrule will fall," Merovar said sternly. "With a king like that, it's just a matter of time. We're stronger and have the right to take over, Dad said so himself. Those with power should utilize it. We'd do a better job. But that doesn't mean everyone will be happy about it. Misi, don't you get it? I... I don't want you to get hurt in this. You have to let him go, or you have to take him out of play, but you can't tell him."

Hemisi chewed on the inside of her cheek, looking away, tears stinging in her eyes. She hated this. This was stupid.

"Look, I--whether we like it or not, it's going to happen," Merovar said carefully. "But I... Dad says you can do anything with the Triforce. And he likes Link. So I'm sure he'll make it work somehow. It's just the mission itself that'll be the problem."

Hemisi glanced at him, hope filling her heart. "You think so?"

Her brother shrugged, but he gave a small smile with it. Hemisi had to laugh at that.

"You know, for you being the one who's better with words, you're not being very convincing," she noted.

"I don't know much about the Triforce," Merovar replied evenly before putting a hand on her shoulder. "I just don't want our family to fall apart because of this. Hemisi... no matter what happens, I'll be there with you, okay? And... I'm sure Link'll join us too, when it's all done. And then you two can go frolicking off into the sunset and leave me stranded out here."

Hemisi cackled at the imagery before lightly punching her brother on the chest. "I'm not leaving you, moron. No matter what happens... we'll have each other."

Merovar's face, scrunched up in response to the playful punch, softened, eyes twinkling in the dull light of the crescent moon. And then he pulled his sister into a hug, tight and scared and loving. Hemisi held him just as fiercely, the two anchoring each other in a sea of uneasiness.

And then Merovar tucked Hemisi's hair into her top, yanking it just as he'd done when they were younger, and laughed as she yelled at him and chased him down to the balcony.

[honeybee2807]

I have this silly fic idea. Could go crack or serious.

So in this au, Ginny is more strict about the no sweet rule. She informs the prefects and head students to not allow her kids to eat even dessert.

James and Lily have friends who think Ginny is crazy so snuggles them sweets. The gryff prefects kind of turn a blind eye to it cuz they are both popular.

Poor Albus on the other hand, has incredibly strict prefects who don't like him much. In this au, he doesn't meet Scorp until they are adults(Scorp is homeschooled/goes to beaubatons).

Everytime he sneaks a plate of pumpkin pasty, the pumpkin pasty gets confiscated. He begs James and Lily for sweets but they are too possessive of them to give him one. He never experienced sweets/deserts except one time when he was six and he cherishes that memory. Two weeks after he burns the hogsmeade permission slip, he apologizes to his dad and gets another slip. Yayyy!!!!

Except..... Strict prefect follows him and doesn't allow him to buy a single sweet(this prefect is a goody two shoes who is kind of a snitch).

During his fourth year, he made it his ambition to experience the taste of sweets(and recollect the good memory of when he was six) somehow. So when he hears two muggleborns joking about the meme "Welcome to the dark side. We have cookies", Albus takes it seriously(Canonically, he's not exactly familiar with the concept of tattoos so obvi he wouldn't understand pop culture references). And vows to be a dark lord. He researches the history of dark lords and their strengths and weaknesses. He's a Slytherin. Surely he has the evil required to pull this off.

When he was in his fifth year, during the whole career discussion meeting with his head of house, he reveals that he plans to be a dark lord(His head of house is Slytherin. Surely she'll guide him to be evil).

The Slytherin head is incredibly concerned(despite what Albus thinks, Slytherin does NOT mean evil) but decides to amuse him and asks "And what's your agenda?"

Albus(having a shocked pickachu face): Dark Lords have agendas???

So Slytherin head doesn't take him seriously and doesn't inform his parents(which is a big mistake)

Over the summer, dude ends up making up an agenda: Take over the ministry and make it illegal to ban sweets for kids. And also give out unlimited sweets.

Albus is slightly insane in this fic due to having a lot of issues like bullying, Harry saying he wished Albus wasn't his son(in this fic no time travel, so their issues didn't get resolved) and the sweet ban did nothing to help those issues. He fixates a lot on sweets tho and lowkey despises Ginny.

Two ways this fic could go:

1. He anonymously terrorizes everyone(doesn't actually murder or torture anyone cuz Albus still has morals) making threats and being an overall troll.

If this is a crack fic, he "kidnaps" people(takes them to a grand place with tvs and the victims get to contact their loved ones in secret) and "tortures" them by giving them spicy food(buldak 2x spicy ramen to be specific) and no relief except water(that means no milk or ice cream which is way more effective). In the end, his victims kind of pity him and think Ginny went too far with the sugar ban(some think the dark lord idea is brill and pledge to him)

If this is a serious fic, he blackmails and makes death threats.

Ultimately, Harry and Co find out that Albus caused this huge mess and find out the reason why. Harry has this huge realization that parents shouldn't go banning sweets. Ron and Hermione finds Albus disturbed and mentally ill and thinks Ginny exaberated this. Ginny feels very guilty and they all hug it out.

2. This is purely a crack idea. He does all the cracky steps above but Harry and Co don't find him until it's too late. He meets Scorp and Scorp is a sweet addict so he likes the agenda. Albus adores Scorp a lot so Scorp becomes Albus' right hand man. They end up conquering the ministry and implement the rules. Everyone ends up getting diabetes.

I plan on writing a one shot on this. You think I should go on idea one or two? Should I go serious or crack?

If it's serious, it would be focused on mental health issues and eating disorders(if idea 2 happens Albus would start bingeing on sweets). If it's crack it would focus a lot on the humor.

Crack is much easier to write but serious seems very interesting imo.

[randomthefox]

despite enjoying idw and the sonic movies ive been loving reading your opinions on everything and seeing your love for scrapnik island has solidified my respect. it really is the best thing idw sonic has put out imo.

I just really like the games man. I feel like asking for adaptations to be made by people who've ACTUALLY PLAYED the games isn't too much to ask. I feel like for any other franchise in the universe, people would consider holding creatives working on an adaptation to the standard of "has actually interacted with the source material at all" to be a reasonable one.

But this is Sonic and people have The Sonic Double Standard, so no. I'm crazy and an asshole and a moron for wanting the adaptation to ACTUALLY PASSINGLY RESEMBLE THE SOURCE MATERIAL. Every time I say "hey, this thing that has Sonic on the title is not like the video games which the title of Sonic comes from" I get inundated with the same fucking thing, over and over and over again from different people.

"Yeah well the games suck anyway. So you're stupid."

They're ALL FUCKING LIKE THIS. Just saying the same shit. It's like a herd of cows mooing. It's actually so fucking scary to me. They haven't utilized a single neuron whatsoever, there is no independent thought being utilized at all. They are mindlessly regurgitating what they've been told to think. They use THE SAME WORDS AND PHRASES. It's like they're reading off a fucking teleprompter. Dozens of different people who aren't even mutuals with each other, sending me messages that are just EXACTLY THIS, over and over and over and over again.

Because expecting an adaptation of Sonic to BE SONIC is just ridiculous. Even though if we were talking about ANY OTHER FRANCHISE THAT EXISTS it would be considered THE BARE MINIMUM.

Scrapnik Island shouldn't be the exception.

Why is it too much to ask that EVERY adaptation of Sonic be like this??? Have creativity and inspiration in how they tell the story utilizing the medium? Write the characters AUTHENTICALLY to how they are in the games? ACCURATELY RECALL THE EVENTS OF THE SOURCE MATERIAL? Those things should be the BARE MINIMUM but because we're talking about Sonic, it's exceptional when Scrapnik Island does it.

Scrapnik Island isn't even fucking incredible or anything, it's just head and shoulders beyond anything else that has ever been printed under the Sonic name on a comic book shelf. It's like drinking a glass of room temperature water after dying of dehydration in the sahara desert for a month.

[py-dreamer]

Ok so I might've gone over time again a lil bit BUT I STILL MADE IT!!!

"Why is it Nezha? First Mk, then Mei, why Nezha? Shouldn't it be Pigsy or Tang or Red Son? Why are you robbing the less popular characters their spotli-"

SHUSH!!!!

Ok so a reason I made Nezha next, is cause I have an upcoming project due soon and I require our 3rd lotus princey over here to come help me.

Look it's an art thingy and the theme is 'Legacy of the gods' and I did chinese mythology not LMK. As such I couldn't pick an lmk exclusive character like Mk or Mei. Furthermore, since it was about the 'gods' specifically, I'm more focused on the deities and less demons the like.

Also a lot of my project has featured so much JTTW, and I'm sure it definitely will in future...So to break up from that and for a bit of variety, I've added in our lotus friend.

(I mean, I suppose I could've done Chang'e but I just decided Nezha had more myths so he was my best bet)

And I couldn't do Wukong. Cause I'm already doing another piece with him, I made two stickers of him already. They will know I have favorites. And I do, I know I do but damn it if I don't wanna show it so obviously!!!

Actually, originally I had like a list of who I wanted to do and it was mostly like main cast of lmk with some fan favorites/my favs here and there and Nezha was towards the bottom but I moved him up due to the reasons above. And I was going to do Pigsy and Tang today but that's not how things turned out, I'll still do them just everyone's gonna have to be moved up in the list now.

Don't ask me what kinda cake it is, if I had to guess some kinda cheesecake with like a thin layer of jelly on top. The pink/red contributes to his main color scheme and the blue jelly makes it look like a pond and all the decorations and lotuses on top look like they're floating in water.

And I suppose it's different from Mk and Mei's cause like the KNY arts have different cakes sometimes why not do the same for these guys? And Nezha is a prince, and the patron god of children! I think he deserves something nice. (I used Giyu's cake for reference)

The filling is strawberries again, hopefully better drawn this time and actually sakura petals instead of lotus ones. I don't know why I used sakura petals, the color is more like lotuses but the shape is inspired after sakura so maybe it's a hybrid.

I do enjoy that it is more detailed than the previous two (especially since I'm using it for a project-)

I actually had a lot of trouble thinking of the sugar cookies cause there's not much associated with Nezha other than his lotus theme and his weaponry. Like at least Mei had her sword and her dragon insignia in different styles! I didn't wanna just do lotuses for like 3 times so I did his universal ring and that golden brick from that one episode. And yes, that brick is an actual thing in the mythos, it's not just a quick visual gag.

I did copy paste the frosting swirls and shells from Mei, don't @ me pls they just looked cool, I needed something to jush up the cake and COME ON THEY LOOK COOL HOW COULD I NOT

No I did not change the color but the minty green broke up all the pink and gold nicely, I think...

I did add the lotus flower and that green thing that triggers ur tripophobia is a lotus fruit. So for those who don't know, lotuses are edible! Not water lilies though. There's a difference. And lotuses can be made into lotus jam and it's delicious! I do recommend trying a lotus jam bao at least once.

Now I know Nezha is a chinese deity and mochi/dango is japannese but Idk what other desert to use and I didn't feel tanghulu fit the vibe...

But yea, those are his flaming fire wheels he skates on, that's why they're on fire, no it's not the rings of the samadhi fire. (I'll be saving that for RS) though now, I do wish I'd just done the outline in a darker shade to make it look like it was an actual image grilled into the mochi rather than a sticker slapped on.

The sneks! Omg! I almost forgot about them! But yea, those are the golden serpent shears we saw in that one episode. They are a bit last minute but I think they turned out decently well. Lil bleps.

Then we have the fire tipped spear and yes, that is Ao Bing. I'm sorry, I know I said I shipped them, and I still do (I see lmk nezha as both mentally and physically an adult don't try me) but damn that idea popped into my head and it was funny. He's fine...I think

(also funny to think Mei's is all dragon oriented and here's Nezha and Ao bing like bleep)

The reason the ribbon is so long is cause it's the goddamn armillary sash that Nezha uses, and it's its own canon magic thing, why not let it be longer and yes I did add some white detail but I just thought it looked more finished and it's a celebration! Let him be festive!

I really like the pose like Nezha receiving a lil present. I think he's the kind of person to not expect presents but be pleasantly surprised at them.

And btw that balloon has lily pads, it's not a globe. I know they should be elevated for lotuses but I can't exactly make the leaves pop out.

So later today should be Tang and pigsy hopefully!

(Also I've noticed a trend in general lmk posts. Ships, duos, trios basically anything with a relationship of some kind always do better than just one character so if I had to guess this like my other birthday posts won't do that well)

Oh and @leesbian42, before I forget, happy almost birthday! If I remember correctly you're turning like 24 right?

[yawujin]

mroski i saw u asking for 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 requests and im here to deliver bc kinktober been dry as hell like GHGGRHRG THE DROUGHT… stupid characters from hetalia (that i will be naming at the end) coming home with a random viagra-like pill they grabbed off the shadiest place they could and begging to try it, thinking its probably fake or just low quality. but then s/o reluctantly agrees and theyre(only the character in my scenario, but feel free to tweak it to your liking) hit with immense horny, like not even the good kind theyre borderline about to pass out from the fever lol. how does that go? please make it not only 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 but also funny because i need the positivity in my life… anyways my proposed characters are north italy, denmark, prussia and america. feel free to do whichever ones you like!

it's been drier than a desert fr fr...luckily, october is the time of year i get the most inspired and creative. i chose prussia bc i feel like this scenario would fit him the best. enjoy 🪄

request˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ "a mysterious pill" (prussia x reader)

type | nsfw , aphrodisiacs , smut , prussia thinks he's a sigma male 🐺 , long , drug usage (i guess) , they/them pronouns used

"no gil, don't take that." they grumbled, grabbing the pill from his hand. gilbert had brought home a singular pill he found inside one of those orange containers one would get at the pharmacy. but they could tell, this was not something any doctor would prescribe. they examined the neon pink gel pill, watching the kitchen lighting above make the bright color reflect onto the palm of their hand. what even is this? they pondered to themself.

"now schatz...why shouldn't i?" he cocked his head to the side. "i bought this specifically for you and i to have a much better time together."

they could hear the smile in his voice. then, it clicked and they realized exactly what he was talking about.

"i didn't think you were serious about getting something...something like this!" they stuttered out. gilbert smirked. "try it out."

they looked at him in disbelief. he lowered his head and shrugged. "the worst that can happen is that it turns out to be a fake." they stood there listening to his words in silence. he got closer to them, putting a hand up on their shoulder. "maybe it's a placebo." he sounded like he hoped it would be.

gilbert had poured them a glass of water as soon as they agreed to take it. "come now, drink up." he grinned.

"i still can't believe you bought a knock-off viagra." they said disappointedly. then, they took the pill in their mouth, sipping some water and swallowing hard. it tasted awful going down, but if this were to work the effects of the drug were about to wipe that taste from their mind completely.

the pair waited five minutes, then those five turned into ten. it seemed a bit longer to them since gil was asking if they felt anything every three minutes. they walked over to the sink and put their glass down inside. "no gil, for the last time i—" they held onto the kitchen counter with might as a hot, electric shock rushed to their core. "AH!" they felt as though they were about to collapse. gilbert rushed to their side, his hands at their back and waist.

"gil...i'm going to fall." they were feeling dizzy, like they were losing control of their own legs. gravity felt heavy and all of their weight was being pulled down. "i've got you." he reassured them as he tried to get them to stand again. "lean onto the counter."

they tried to stand without wobbling. with every slight brush of gilbert's hands on their waist, they felt the same heat rise in their abdomen. that dizzy feeling wasn't letting up, either.

"no, no. i can't. just take me to bed." they pleaded. they didn't need to tell gil twice. he was quick to lift their arm over his shoulder and carefully walk them over to their bed.

he laid them down carefully, sat at the edge of the bed, and raised a hand to their forehead. "mein gott, you are on fire." he shook his head. "i think," he was looking to leave and find his cell phone. "i should call the hospital."

"no!" they exclaimed. he looked worried. "just stay with me, okay?" they asked sweetly. they gestured for him to come nearer, and placed their hands on his face gently. "can i get a kiss?"

hesitant at first, gilbert brought his face up to theirs and smoothed his lips over their own. boldly, they ran their fingers through his hair and tugged at a few strands, earning a low moan from him. he pulled away almost instantly.

"huh...is it working?" his eyes were wide.

"isn't it obvious? i need you right now!!" they were upset gil pulled away so abruptly. "please do something..."

gilbert looked at them and chuckled. "should i tear off all your clothes like an animal and howl while i fuck you?" he imitated a howl, immediately shutting up when they grabbed him by his shirt.

"what do you think you are? a werewolf?" they smashed their lips up against his and smiled when they heard him moan in a surprised delight. "hurry up, do ANYTHING." they pleaded. it was getting too much for them to bare.

gilbert took off and threw all of his clothes to the floor in a hurry. he noticed the bright red color that dusted his partner's cheeks. that flushed looked on their face got him bricked faster than he would like to admit. "are you so horny that you can't even move?" he mocks them, thoroughly enjoying the cute noises that follow right after. he helps them take everything off as well. "alright...turn around for me, please."

they feel him press himself against their ass. his hand is around them, sliding it up their stomach, and getting closer to their chest. their eyelids grow heavy and finally shut. the heat builds up in their head, the fever making them feel like they're about to pass out from all that pleasure. with every inch that gilbert slowly adds inside of them, the closer they feel to coming. they've barely begun, and yet it feels like they won't last much longer.

[randomwriteronline]

based on this post by @legend-as-old-as-time

He's standing there. Right behind him. He can't hear him, but he can feel him - feel his eyes on the back of his head, his hand as it goes to awkwardly cradle an arm, something like a slight breeze.

Tahu doesn't move.

Something tells him he knows what he's about to say.

"So it was supposed to-"

His hand shoots back, pointing in the other's general direction: "Don't you dare," he threatens. "Don't you even dare say that."

The Toa of Ice remains quiet for a second, maybe stunned.

Then, timidly: "I'm not Kopaka."

"That doesn't change anything. You're my brother, and you better not say that."

"I meant - I'm not-"

"I know that! You think I wouldn't be able to tell your voices apart?"

Immediately he sinks a hand into the vents of his Hau's cheeks and chastises himself with a wordless growl.

"Sorry about that," he mutters: "I shouldn't have gotten angry."

"It's alright," Matoro reassures him softly. He hesitates, breathes deeply, ponders what to say for a few more seconds. "For a moment it felt like he was here again."

They allow a long beat of silence to pass.

Afternoon is bleeding into evening, but the sky isn't growing dark yet - might not for a few hours still. They're entering the drought season in the desert, Tarduk said; good thing they've got underground aqueducts that reach into the mountains, or things could get dire quickly if the autumn rains didn't bring in enough reserves.

It looks warm, of an orange color as sweet as certain ripe fruit. It might be the lack of water. Aqua Magna maintained some amount of blueish hue with its immense ocean no matter what hour of the day it might have been.

Neither have moved. It drives him nuts.

"You don't have to stand there like that," Tahu says without looking, "If you want you can sit down with me."

He still doesn't turn when the quiet steps get closer and closer, nor when the brine-covered joints creak gently or when the Toa of Ice gives a short grunt as he does indeed take a seat at about half a bio of distance from him.

He feels Matoro glance at him every now and then, with the slightest fear, but he never steps out of line, never tries to talk.

Maybe he scared him, by telling him off like that.

Tahu grumbles to clear his throat.

"How was he, by the way?" he says, and he tries to sound casual.

Matoro spends a second or two to compose his thoughts: "Like you," he replies a little lamely. "You were - are - were the same person."

"So he was a self-assured bad-tempered idiot?"

That tears a little laugh out of the other, which Tahu counts as a small victory: "He used to be, a little bit. I had to tell Turaga Nuju I couldn't translate an insult he hurled at him once because I was afraid he would have burnt us to a crisp. But I think he got better with time."

"I'm glad to hear that. If I really have changed at least in one universe, that's good news for everybody."

Another sheepish chuckle trails off: "Well, it's... Truth be told, I didn't know much of him," Matoro admits. "I heard what Turaga Vakama said to the others, about his failings and his successes, but there wasn't... There wasn't a real connection, between me and him."

That tracks.

"Maybe you should talk to Jaller," he whispers. "He was devastated. And the Nuva, of course."

He's seen that. In bits and pieces, vague little hints and unplanned outbursts, but he's caught the same tells he'd seen on the Mahri and in Kopaka - the ones he knows.

But he doesn't want to talk to them. Not yet. None of them are ready for that conversation, least of all himself.

This is easier, despite... Despite the whole of it.

It's a bit simpler.

A bit.

"Did you know him?" the other asks suddenly. "Your... Me, I mean."

"Not much." Tahu replies, and there's a little sigh of relief that leaves Matoro that he really can't reprimand or blame him for: "We were as close as you were with me, so not at all. But he was a good being - reliable, skilled. Compassionate. I'm glad I could call him brother, if only for a little."

Shadows grow longer the more they don't talk.

They both shift uneasily as they notice their slow encroaching approach - old habits die hard, and too vivid memories courtesy of the Makuta make them harder to kill - but their purplish color soothes them along with the dusty ground beneath them.

Matoro is cold. He exudes cold, but not like Kopaka: chill wafts from the Nuva of Ice in a constant and steady stream, creating an aura at least three or five inches thick that from his body blurs into the world around him, so that those who stand too close get the gist and leave him some space; for Matoro it snakes across his limbs and trickles off of him in wisps and plumes, like invisible smoke reaching upwards, and it slips onto others almost by accident - more of a tacit comfort than a thorny shield.

It still gives off a strange feeling when it meets the heat blooming from Tahu.

"Well, since you're here to hear it for yourself," the Toa of Fire announces with an almost casual tone: "You are very loved."

He hears the other startle from the surprise.

"What?"

"You are very loved. I don't know how much you - he - you two knew that, but you are."

He hears his fingers fumble for a moment, scraping each other as he plays with them to figure out what to say: "I... Thank you? Why are you... What does this... I don't understand."

"What is there to understand? You're very loved. People miss you."

"Your Mahri don't seem to enjoy the sight of me."

"They're still grappling with the fact that you're here despite being dead. I'm fairly sure that's what the rest of you go through when you see me." Tahu turns further away from Matoro, searching for familiar shapes into the side of a mountain. "We didn't have time to do much immediately after, for... Him. Not that grand gestures would have mattered much, everything got destroyed pretty quickly. And we're nowhere near as morbid as the Agori are-"

"The Agori?" the other's voice tilts in genuine confusion. "What about the Agori?"

The Toa of Fire gives a breathy cackle: "Do you have any idea how many funerary rites they have? There's at least three for each tribe, and those are only the ones Turaga Nuju held for you."

The air grows slightly warmer.

Matoro briefly forgot how to breathe.

He stares intently at the back of Tahu's head, not shy or sheepish anymore, too completely stunned to do much else.

He speaks again at last, voice so faint it's barely a breath: "Why?"

"I told you. You are very loved."

He keeps staring.

Tahu, very pointedly, does not turn to meet his eyes.

Why can't he turn to meet his eyes?

Why can't he just look at his face?

There's an answer of course. A simple, logical answer, an obvious answer, a clear answer, an answer that sits right on the tip of his metaphorical tongue, in the antechamber of his crystal brain, just waiting to be aknowledged.

If only he could find it.

There's still so much light despite being evening.

The seasons on Aqua Magna didn't bring this extreme a change.

Suddenly, 'days becoming longer' doesn't sound as silly as it had seemed when Berix first told them about it.

"He didn't have to," Matoro whispers. "The Turaga didn't have to. He should have been celebrating that Mata Nui had been saved, not mourning me. Not so many times."

The other waits a moment before replying: "He lost a close friend. Maybe he had too much grief to handle it all in just one funeral."

The Ko-Toa looks away.

His hands scrape against the ground he sits on as he tightens them into anxious fists.

"Would you have done it?" he asks: "If it had been you instead of me here, too, would you have done it too? Chosen Mata Nui over your life and your self?"

"Would you?"

"... Yes."

"Me too," Tahu nods - so certain, plowing through the paralyzing terror of death so that it cannot catch up to him until it's too late. "If I'd been in your place and the only options were either me, any of my siblings, or the universe, I would have sacrificed myself. Jaller and Kopaka are good leaders, they'd know how to make sure the rest of you were safe. And you'd have the Turaga too."

"But we wouldn't have you."

"And we wouldn't have you."

"I'd say a traslator isn't really comparable to the leader of the Nuva."

"He would be to the Mahri. And Nuju."

He should turn around. He should look him in the eye and tell him what he's going to tell him while staring directly at him, so that the words get burned into his brain.

Why in Karzhani's name can't he do that?

"I would have fulfilled my duty as a Mata, and nothing else," he speaks, gazing into a mountain he's stopped really seeing Great Spirit knows how long - a while ago by now: "You took it upon yourself to lose everything for the sake of everybody else. When you compare the two, I see no reason why I'd be any more mourned than you."

"Not even by Turaga Vakama?"

What a strange question.

What a really strange question. Is this another parallel he's trying to draw? He doesn't think he could ever be described as anything to Vakama other than his Toa - one of his Toa, one of six.

What a strange question. The most he's brought the Turaga was grief and annoyance, as far as he can remember, because he was hotheaded and stubborn and stuckup. Vakama knew Matoro better than he knew Tahu, arguably. He wouldn't mourn him as inconsolably as Nuju had.

What a strange question.

"It was as if he'd lost Toa Lhikan all over again."

Tahu does not move.

That has to be an exaggeration.

"He could not conclude his speech to the Metru. He could not even meet the Nuva at first. He had hoped his vision really had been just the result of wires crossed wrong, just this once."

Matoro watches him as the heat around Tahu dissipates slowly, as he stiffens like magma cooling into obsidian.

The purple shadows lean further into the finally darkening skies, coming down, down, down the mountains, down the dunes, down the vegetation that dots the landscape, towards the city that stands in-between the sands, as they continue to sit near each other in perfect silence.

[ace-does-stuff]

nowhere to hide out in the open

summary: the one good thing about these 'Genre Peace' meetings, it would be that Delta Dawn has an excuse to be next to Queen Essence

warnings: its just fluff

authors note: EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO @ohposhers FOR DRAGGING ME OUT OF RETIREMENT BY MAKING DELTESSENCE REAL INSTEAD OF LETTING IT ROT IN OUR DM'S FROM MARCH, LITERALLY DRAGGED THIS FIC OUT FROM THE BACK AND FINISHED IT UP IN 2 HOURS NOT EVEN. anyways hope ya'll enjoy and if ya do consider dropping a reblog or checkin' the Ao3 port

To be frank, Delta Dawn didn't necessarily enjoy the fact that the genre leaders had to meet up in Funk's spaceship of sorts; they called it Vibe City. The deck may have been solid beneath her hooves and the air perfectly metered in temperature, but it still felt wrong. Just something made her feel off about living up here, especially when they used to inhabit the deserts and oasis's below.

The only plus was the fact that she was allowed a seat next to Queen Essence, Funk's co-ruler. Pale blue fur and glistening silver tinsel littered across her form and like necklaces on her neck. A spattering of glitter on her face and golden adornments in her hair, voice a gentle timbre and comfy pace-

Delta Dawn definitely enjoyed her, and the fact that she was married with children.

"Now, Queen Poppy, are you sure we really need to unite geographically as well?" Trollzart asked, and the annoying sound of his voice snapped Delta out of it. He sounded like a 'woodwind,' as the Classical's called those instruments.

"Yeah, Popseed, I quite like Volcano Rock City. The Rocker's need some heat to keep us going," Barb tacked on, voice sharp as always with a blunt edge that Delta respected. Even if the gal tried to destroy all music, she had good work ethic.

Poppy gave a nervous laugh, "Well we could at least try making a place where the cross-genre's and genrefluid Trolls could exist in peace?"

"A utopia," King Quincy supplies.

"A Trollstopia, if you will," Queen Essence adds on.

"The only problem with that is the Techno's, they can't be out of water for prolonged periods of time," Branch said. He was already splaying out blueprints, "I'll work on a fix."

"I can help manufacture it," Trollex said and his voice also had an annoying sting too it out of water, oddly synthetic but natural to their speciation.

"Dawn," Queen Essence said, and it took Delta a moment to realize she was referring to her.

The sheriff of Country nodded, "Yes, miss Essence?" Country sensibilities sneaking into her speech again, she really hopes that isn't an offence in Funk.

Instead it makes Queen Essence smile, "Do you have any objections to this Trollstopia?" There's a softness to her tone, a calm that Delta doesn't know too well. Everyone's much gruffer in Country, more to the point and strict about it. Working together is loving each other and tussling in a rodeo is a love language.

Funk Trolls are so... Different, in a refreshing way of course. It's confusing too, Delta never took herself for a romantic, but the Queen is doing something to her. And it's just how she exists too, even when they aren't interacting she's just like this. Smooth and calm and with an amount of allure that Delta is sure must be practiced in advance.

"I got no objections to it, I think it's a great idea," Delta said before standing up and pushing aside the cushion she sat upon. At the slightest hint of Poppy going to speak up, she waved it off, "I'm fine, Queen Poppy, I just need to stretch my legs, get some water."

Her hooves clicked uncomfortably against the metal-adjacent platforms below her. She rubbed her temples as she walked, taking long, deep breaths to try and compose herself. How on earth do they expect her to keep it together when they put her beside Queen Essence? She shouldn't be getting this worked up over a married Troll.

"Dawn, you're probably gonna need some help finding the vending machines," Came a gentle voice from behind her and all she could do was freeze up.

"Naw, I'll be fine, Queen Essence," Delta said, turning to give her an affirming smile. It looked kind of forced.

"Please, just call me Essence," She said before leading Delta along and the sheriff followed without questioning her own actions despite her previous defiance.

Delta gives a huffing sort of sound, it earns her a perplexed look before she remembers that the Funk Trolls don't have that in their lexicon, "Then I have ta ask that you call me Delta."

Essence gives a long hum as she pads down the halls, her paws are near silent against the flooring. A stark contrast to the clip-clop of Delta's hooves, "I'll see what I can do for you."

The slight teasing lilt coupled with a small chuckle has Delta going mad. She trots up closer to the queen of Funk and follows her obediently down the halls. The swirled design of Funk architecture matches the consistent beat thrumming below them in the main corridors. It pulses with a faint glow, so subtle it's almost unnoticable unless you really look close- and Delta needs something to stare at that isn't her guide.

When they come to a stop Essence grabs her a bottle of water, gifted in return for a small melody in a genre Delta doesn't know well. It's interesting technology really, maybe Country is outdated after all. Then she remembers that Pop still lives in the woods and hasn't rebuilt after they had their empire swept out from under their feet by the Bergens. Her genre isn't too far behind, and Funk is highly advanced anyways.

"So, Delta, what's got you down?" Essence asked, dropping down to sit with folded legs on a cushion. Delta followed suit, a low table between them, and she didn't quite sit the same way Funk Trolls did but she made it happen.

"Nothin's got me down," Delta said, twisting the cap off the bottle, "Don't know what gave you that idea."

Essence's brows furrowed, but she didn't narrow her gaze much. She just sighed, "I can't be offended that you don't want to tell me, but I can be offended that you think I can't see what's right in front of me."

That shakes Delta down to her core, she didn't expect Essence to have such keen observations as well. She nearly chokes on her water which has a tang too it, a hint of citrus flavouring perhaps? She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, "I suppose I shouldn't treat ya like an idiot cause you're different than me."

"Some signs are universal," Essence said, "And your vibes aren't exactly feeling on point."

Delta gives a low laugh, "You have a point there, Queen Essence. You're mighty smart, mighty tenacious for waiting so long for your son to show up."

Essence smiles a smile that's so warm it contradicts the soothing frosted hue of her form. She tilts her head a bit as she smiles, a small laugh arising and she brings a paw to hide it. "I'm flattered, Dawn."

"Essence, you seem like the loving type," Delta begins, "Happily married and whatnot."

"So it's a romance problem you have."

She nods, "Yeah, that. What would you say is the best action for loving someone whose already set for life?"

That gives Essence pause, and she's more than clever enough to piece it together right then and there, but she still takes a moment. "In Funk we're usually pretty open, most relations are fluid and shifting states frequently."

"They are?" Delta asked a bit too fast.

"Of course they are, Delta. Are they not in other genres?" Essence asked, a genuine curiosity lacing her voice.

Delta shakes her head, "We're rather monogamous in Country."

"Tell me, Delta," Essence begins, a type of smile on her face that makes Delta shiver. Essence leans a little bit closer, "Is it me?"

"What gave it away, your majesty?" Delta asked.

"Country Trolls are very up front, it translates to the way you act," Essence explained before pressing a kiss to Delta's cheek. It left a silvery, snowy mark in its wake and Delta was too stunned to move. It made Essence giggle a bit.

"But, but you're royalty!" Delta managed to get out, "Doesn't royalty have ta keep a closed relationship?"

Essence shrugged and the tinsel shifted and coat the technicolor glow of Vibe City. "Quincy is understanding, I doubt he'd mind if we let you in for a bit."

"Well alright then." She's not in a cohesive enough mindset to get anything else out of her mouth. She's wearing this dumb grin on her face that's quick to fall.

Essence brings a paw to Delta's face, "What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothin' that needs to be worried about now," Delta brings her hand to rest on Essence's wrist, or ankle maybe? Delta isn't too sure of the proper terminology to use.

"You got your legs stretched out enough to head back, Dawn? They can't make much progress without Country," Essence asked.

"I'm ready," Delta said before standing up, she traced a digit across the lipstick mark on her cheek, "Say, won't this be incriminating evidence?"

"Quincy won't mind," Essence assured with a hum.

"The others?"

"They're in our home, we can evict them."

[thewonandonly]

20:42 — what brings you here all of a sudden? crash into a world so still, chill kill enters like thunder, that thrill be makin' my mind ill. | chill kill by red velvet

the wet squelching of the rug under your feet was enough to make you cringe and give you chills, even more than the water that dripped from your dress down your skin. you walked at a painstakingly slow pace that could only be compared to stephen king's carrie. a shiver rolled down your spine as you walked down the hallway to where your boyfriend laid on the couch in the hotel room with a book in his hand.

a little context might work. it was 8 at night. there was a pool. you didn't have a swimsuit, so you didn't jump in. your boyfriend, who now laid dry on the couch, prim and proper, dry as the sahara desert, pushed you in. then left you there.

you weren't mad at him for pushing you in and ditching you. no, that was just a normal prank for the both of you. you would've done the exact same.

no, you were mad he ruined your dress. the 285 dollar dress you've been waiting months for, that you saved up money for.

as you stood there like a horror character from a movie, doyoung's head laid back on his arm, placing his finger in between the book pages, covering his mouth as he stifled a laugh, "what happened?" he teased.

another shiver and you grit your teeth at him, "my dress..."

doyoung chuckled, "yeah?" he glanced at you up and down, "probably shouldn't have pushed you into the pool while you were wearing white." he dog-eared the page of the book, sitting up on the couch.

you walked around the couch to stare at him, the water echoing between the two of you as you stood still, droplets hitting the floor, spreading your arms, "give me a hug." you whispered, demanding the hug, not even bothering to ask.

doyoung jumped up, holding his hand out, "no, no, i think i'm okay."

"come on, doyo, give me a hug."

doyoung made his way around the couch, staring at you as you chased him. "come on, yn, you wouldn't want my nice shirt to — oh, okay, there it is."

you were able to catch him, hugging him tightly with the wet fabric draped over your body. you mischievously chuckled as he groaned at the feeling of the chlorinated pool water seep into his own clothes.

"ah... so warm." you pulled away, smiling as you saw the front of his shirt turning a dark grey, "you got a little something there." you teased.

doyoung matched your look, pecking your lips softly, "i have a wonderful idea on how to warm up." he smiled, his hands lingering on your hips.

you rolled your eyes, "is this your way of apologizing about my dress?"

"maybe." doyoung chuckled.

maybe you could forgive him for his destroying of your dress, even if it wasn't by buying you another.

copyright © 2023 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

[chinchillaerwin]

Just a sketch of Levi's panic attack in the AOT finale. Sorry for the inaccuracies, English is not my first language.

A rare tear streams from his miraculously-surviving eye, leaving a wet trail on his dry skin. When was the last time Levi let himself cry? It's just smoke, Levi thinks. He won't want to accept it for a long time yet - the pain in his soul has become so intense that the walls that have disappeared couldn't hold it back. All his pain, all his life, are bars that squeeze his bones. They strangle so that it becomes impossible to breathe, they burn to coals and spatter with other people's blood.

It's just smoke.

Wasn't it supposed to get easier? They met again. They're gone again. Levi's alone again. Why is it like this? They wanted to see the world together. What's the point of seeing the world alone now? What had he done to deserve this?

His body clenches tighter, more painful. His pulse thumps hard against his temples. Bile rises to his throat, which Levi tries to hold back by grabbing himself by the throat. He's shaking like a stray cat. His mouth is deserted, now for a sip of water. No, tea.

The kind we used to drink with Erwin.

Levi covers his mouth with his hand and tries to breathe through his nose.

Just like Hanji taught me.

He grips the rock in an effort to get up, not realising he shouldn't. The smoke cuts his mucous membranes, the salt water bleeding his sore eye. To call for help is to make himself look weak again. Levi feels his face flooding with tears. And he wishes he could pull himself together, stop. Only it's like his hands aren't his. He makes one last attempt to get up, and falls to his knees, slamming his fist into the un-trodden ground.

Stop it, idiot. Stop it!

Levi isn't crying anymore - obbing. He curls up and covers his mouth with the palm of his hand in a silent scream, wishing he could disappear with the smoke.

Somebody help me.