#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.

[ladylokianna]

Careful what you wish for...

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (as always i'm not used to use the first person p.o.v. mainly because in English i usually mess everything up by trying to fit verb tenses together so i hope everything is comprehensible). 

Warning: 18+, MDNI, Fluff, but a little smut towards the end (i'm trying to emprove and i hope is not cringe), and again nothing too explicit 'cause i'm not good at writing it.

Fairly ooc Aemond, of course. A bit tender and affectionate with his old grumpy granny Vhagar.   

The title... ehm. Sometimes i find a good one, sometimes no. Sorry.

***

The water of the lake is like a balm on that sultry mid-summer day. You feel as if you go back a few years when, as a young girl, you loved to desert your Septa's lessons so that you could swim in peace and find relief from the heat. You also remembered all too well the reprimand that usually followed those times when you managed to escape, but who knows how you always managed to find new ways to sneak away from the Septa and your damsels-in-waiting to their utter despair.

All is so calm, the sun is warm against your skin despite the freshness of the water beneath you and all is so silent that you can almost hear your heartbit. You like the Red Keep, you like the sense of calmness you feel inside its walls especially when you sit with a book in your hands, but it's still a fortress, and it's impossible to feel completely free in there.

When something huge seems to swallow the Sun above you, you already know who it is: you see Vhagar's shadow heading towards the clearing surrounding the lake and with a slight amused snort you swim towards the shore. Vhagar's landing creates some air displacement, and you hear Aemond giving her orders in Valyrian, before dismounting from the saddle.

"Hello old lady." you approach her slowly with a wide smile, touching the dragoness' snout, which had settled herself into a crescent shape to protect you and Aemond.

"I'm sweating in your place just seeing you in those leathers, you know?" you greet him, chuckling with amusement: how is it possible that he can stand that heavy jacket and even the gloves in that heat? Your laughter dies down, however, the moment you realise that Aemond is serious. "Has something happened, dear?"

"Thank the Gods you are here. We've been looking all over for you, i thought you'd been kidnapped." he scowls you, in a tone that in his intentions should perhaps have sounded stern, but which comes out in a worried whisper. "You shouldn't sneak out of the keep without warning and especially without an escort, it's dangerous."

You didn't think of that, actually.

"I noticed this place the last time we flew with Vhagar and i was hoping to go for a swim like i did as a girl... i'm fine, Aemond, nothing happened to me. You haven't alarmed the whole castle, haven't you?"

Not the whole castle, he replies, but Ser Criston and at least a dozen white cloaks, yes.

He grasp your shoulders and leans his forehead against yours with a sigh of relief, knowing you are safe.

"I'm sorry, i'll be sure to warn you next time." you reply contritely, sensing his tension.

"At least Ser Ammett." he tells you, alluding to your personal bodyguard. "I don't want to restrain you, i want to know you're safe."

You know that, you answer him with a smile. He's concerned, you understand that well.

"Will you give me a little more time before returning home?"

He nods, sitting down into Vhagar's shadow, near her head but far enough from her jaws. Then, he watches you swim for a while, and when you realise he is succumbing to the heat and slipping off his jacket and boots, you return to the shore.

"You must had been beautiful in your youth." you say, caressing Vhagar: what a majestic dragoness she is.

"She's still beautiful." Aemond points out, rolling up his sleeves. "She's just a little bit grumpy but i can comprehend her, since she have to deal with me, hm?" he adds something in Valyrian, and Vhagar snorts softly in response.

"You know Aem, i have to tell you: i didn't think you would last that long with all that clothes on, the Sun is so hot today that you can cook an egg on a rock."

"Is this a subtle way to tell me i had to undress?" he say with a smirk.

That's your turn to sigh, with a fake guilty look in your eyes.

"Not so subtle, isn't it?"

"M-mh. Sometimes you tend to forget that i know you like the back of my hand: you're an open book to me. And besides, as i told you countless times, you only have to ask."

"Care to join me, then, now that you have found out my intentions?"

"...into the water?"

"Well sure, where else? Come on, today it's hot as the dragonfire..."

"Yes, and thanks to you it's even hotter." he replies, looking at the way the wet tunic clings to your form like a second skin. He groans, reaching a hand to your ankle, tracing up along the calf and the crease of your knee and further up on your thigh.

"Later, Aem" you smile at him. You extend a hand in an invitation to follow you. "Come on."

You see him scanning the shore and the lake itself, which is rather calm that day.

"Okay but only up to my ankles."

You point your hands to your sides, arching an eyebrow.

"...maybe up to the knees?" he proposes.

"At least up to the chest, you cannot swim in few inches of water... once we reach the chest, we won't go further, i promise. I'm not asking you to go down-"

"Eh, that's not what you usually tell me."

"Aemond!"

"What? It's the truth." another sigh. "Fine. I can't swim." he confesses after a few moments. "I'm a Targaryen, and we do not swim, we fly."

"That means we'll reach a reasonable distance as far as you feel safe, alright? No jokes, i swear. And in the very moment you feel uncomfortable, we'll go back to shore. I got you, don't worry."

Aemond curls his lips for a moment, looking at you with a strange look.

"Hey, i don't like that gaze: you have something in mind."

"You have to make amend for making me worry." he tells you jokingly.

"Amend? It wasn't my intention to worry you. Tell me then, what do you want?"

"One turn upside down." he proposes, pointing at Vhagar behind him. "Grant us just one turn and i'll join you."

"Here's why i didn't like your gaze." you sigh, looking istinctively at Vhagar, who seems to understand what Aemond is asking: the growl she make is enough for you to shiver.

"Come on, be brave! I'm asking you that for so long and you have yet to see how happy she is when i let her do it. After that, you don't owe me nothing." he then spoke in his language again, saying who knows what to Vhagar, who shortly after shift her attention to you, her pupils pointed into yours. "...see? She's already happy."

"You two will be the death of me."

"Is that a yes? Hm?"

"Yes."

Aemond flashes a smile at Vhagar, and for a second you think you even glimpse a wink.

"You better bring yourself and your wonderful ass into the water, Aem."

"As my lady command." Aemond removes his tunic before running towards the water, diving into it with a loud laugh, leaving you utterly surprised, finally understanding that the whole i'm afraid of swimming story was just a play and above all, what awaits you.

"You... you're so in trouble, Aemond Targaryen." you snort, making him laugh even louder. "Yeah, laugh now, 'cause later, i promise, you'll beg for me to stop."

"Knowing you, you'll be the one begging, and surely not for me to stop."

"..."

Vhagar pokes gently your back with her snout, causing you to lurch forward.

"Easy, Vhagar."

"Why she did this?"

"Because she's happy and she likes you. Less chattering though, come here: water is perfect." Aemond teases you, with a playful smirk.

"Eh, you clearly have no idea what you will have to do to me to make this up."

His breeches suddenly lands at your feet as he looks at you.

"Take off your tunic. Now."

"Look, Aemond, you better not be joking now because you have no idea of what kind of beast you're about to unleash."

"For our sake, woman, just take that goddamned tunic off and make me happy too!"

*

There is something mesmerizing in the way Aemond lets himself go: in those moments you clearly see his armour shattering down and the man you love re-emerge from the depths of his complicated character: once his innate composure has been set aside, once he allows himself to be swept away by the moment, he is capable of consuming you with fierceness -or tenderness- with which he takes you, but at the same time of surrendering himself to you without reserve.

"We should... come here more... more often." Aemond is panting beneath you, still lost in the aftermath of his last climax. He rests his head against yours, smiling as soon as he feels your lips right above his scarred eye, in one of your usual affectionate gesture.

"Uh-huh." you agree, holding your legs so tight around his waist that you can feel his still hard length pulsing into your clenching walls, his hands steady on your hips. He rest a while inside you, a thing he likes to do knowing that you also enjoy. "At least i can hear your laughter again, it doesn't happen so often."

"I know, i'm sorry. Being a Targaryen is no joke."

Sometimes when he's back from a council meeting, you can clearly see the armour he wears to hide his real self so no one could take advantage of his flaws, his humanity. Something you can totally understand as it's not easy at all being part of a reigning family and you know, you know so well that is safer for Aemond to protect himself in that way but sometimes you feel like he's closing even you out of him.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just give me a minute, i feel sore all over and my legs don't cooperate." is your reply, moving a little to relieve a cramp.

"Oops… sorry, my bad."

"Stop it, you're not sorry at all."

He chuckles, and you feel him hardening again, but Vhagar lets out a loud snort, distracting both of you.

"You're right, old friend. Let's go." sighs Aemond. "We all need to rest and you still owe me something."

[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.

[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 disturbing 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.

[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?

[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.

[neko-naruto]

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.

[son1c]

under the weather

falling stars fic masterpost

Outside, it was storming, the kind of storm that flips trash cans and rattles windows. The dark clouds had rolled in with the dawn, but there was no daylight, only flashes from lightning strikes. Sonic had his full attention focused on the controls now. Keeping the manta ray from flying into a bolt of lightning was his top priority.

Rain pelted the windshield like artillery. It was hard to see anything through the soaked glass, but as he brought the ship closer to the ground, the pulsing lights of Night Babylon cut through the storm like a neon blade. There was just one thing left to do: land the ship.

Rouge clutched the back of the pilot's chair. "Don't let those dreadful clouds fool you," she said. "This is actually the richest city around. It's a shame you had to meet it like this!"

Shadow examined the radar on the dashboard. It revealed a swirling vortex of wind and rain, highlighted in green pixels. "With the vast desert, weather like this shouldn't be possible."

Suddenly, the three Mobians’ fur stood on end. A second later, a streak of white hot electricity tore through the air directly in front of them, and the manta ray swerved like a van on an icy highway.

Sonic gripped the controls with white knuckles. "Aw, lighten up, guys!” His face was stretched in a tense, everything-is-fine grin. “A little rain won't drag us down. Not when we're this close!"

Another streak of lightning slashed across the sky, and Sonic was forced to yank the yoke in a hard turn. With his foot, Sonic kept Buggy from sliding across the floor, and when he flipped a switch on the ceiling, it looked like he was playing a game of Twister. But the lightning faded quickly, and the ship righted itself just as fast.

Rouge looked a little green. "Another roll like that and I'll be one stomach lighter," she said. "So let's not go there."

Shadow turned to Sonic. "That 'good feeling' of yours has carried us this far. But what of landing the ship? The roads are sure to be flooded from the storm, so an alternate route may be our--"

"No way," Sonic interrupted. "I'm not fittin' a detour into the flight plan now. We're skippin’ the scenic route–it’s city streets all the way!"

The nose of the manta ray tilted downward. It broke through the bottom of the clouds, and the blurry lights of Night Babylon came into sharper focus. Even though rain was still lashing at the windshield, everyone could see the buildings surrounding the ship, creating a maze of cold steel for Sonic to navigate through.

One wrong move and the manta ray would crash through the pyramid building, or slice the top off the globe-like concert hall. And then there was the ferris wheel, still spinning from the gale force winds, its glistening silver body like a spider web waiting for its prey.

Sonic steered the ship away from all of them. His reflexes were fast--just as fast as the rest of him. And his heart was kicked up to high gear, thumping in his ears in time with the rain.

He thought of the badniks in the cabin, and Omega by the doorway, and Rouge and Shadow right next to him. Then, a feeling so strong it would've knocked him on his seat if he wasn't already sitting down took hold of him, and he knew.

He had to keep them safe.

He wouldn't let them down.

Sometime soon he would have to think over the suddenness of this feeling, but not yet. And sometime eventually he’d have to look at himself in the mirror. But there was no time for that now.

The manta ray ducked under an archway, its belly brushing up against the tops of trees. Then, the ship exploded through the wall of water that was cascading down the other side, and it burst out onto the street. It was the street Rouge's casino was on. Sonic could see the bat-shaped billboard from here.

“That landing gear isn't going to drop itself, Blue," Rouge hissed into Sonic's ear. "Or were you planning on a crash landing? I'll have you know, anything of mine you break comes with interest!"

The storm had turned the street into a river. The drains were clogged from generous helpings of sky vomit, and the clouds just kept piling it on, flooding the pavement faster than the city's sewer system could suck it away. Cars floated down the sidewalk, the water depositing them on the steps of buildings or at the foot of grassy hills.

"It's no good," Sonic said with a shake of his head. "This thing hits the water, it'll flip like a coin. Then I'll really owe ya your weight in interest!"

Sonic’s thoughts swirled like the storm. How could he keep everyone safe? The street couldn’t serve as a landing strip, and the grassy knolls scattered down the block were too small to park the battleship on. That left only one option: the golden roof of Rouge’s casino.

Rouge didn’t like the look on Sonic’s face. And when she saw what he was looking at, she liked it even less. “Oh, no, you don't!” she said. “You better not rough up my casino. Not one scratch!”

Sonic leaned forward. His gaze was determined as he stared straight ahead, his grip on the yoke steady. “Trust me,” Sonic said. “I got this!”

There was a blinding flash, and then a jaw-rattling boom. Shadow staggered, reached out to grab Sonic’s arm, and steadied himself. The lights in the cabin flickered. When they returned, every alarm began blaring at once, signaling that the engine had stalled.

Sonic kept his eyes locked on the roof of the casino. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made his head buzz, his thoughts racing as he tried to figure out how he was going to turn this crash landing into a not-one-scratch landing. And then he had a crazy idea.

The wind howled, lashing against the outside of the ship like a feral animal.

"That’s the ticket!" Sonic said.

Before Shadow or Rouge could ask him what he meant by that, Sonic did something that most other people would think too daring or improbable: he performed a slip, turning the gale force winds of the storm into brakes for the manta ray battleship.

It worked. Somehow.

Sonic landed the ship on the roof of Club Rouge. The wings of the manta ray were supported by the tall golden points of the roof. The balance was perfect. It didn’t even wobble.

Ten seconds later, the storm changed to a light drizzle, and then dried up completely. The dark clouds faded and the sun returned, bathing the rain-soaked streets of Night Babylon in its warm yellow rays. People poked their heads out of their windows and looked up at the sky, baffled.

Shadow finally released Sonic’s arm. He examined the radar on the dashboard. “It’s gone,” he said. “Vanished into thin air. Like it was never here.”

“Let me see that,” Rouge said. She moved to stand next to Shadow, her eyes narrowed as they peered down at the tiny screen. But Shadow was right: the storm was gone.

Rouge turned away from the dashboard. “How dramatic,” she huffed. “All that fuss and nothing to show for it. Although…” She paused, tapping a finger to her lip. “It’s not every day an Eggman battleship flies into town. Without the rain, this delightful little barge would’ve turned heads from here to Central City!”

“Sounds like we owe the storm a thank you,” Sonic said as he peeled his hands off the yoke. If his fingers were shaking, it was only because of the adrenaline.

Rouge pinched the bridge of her nose. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said. “After all, you chose just about the worst spot you could’ve to park! I’ll have you know, I’m one of the few casinos in this town that hasn’t been bought out by the mad Doctor.”

Rouge's lips thinned until they were the size of a dime set on its side.

“Now what will people think?" she continued. "I’ve become a sell-out? Hardly! I can’t have this ramshackle ray pretending to be a hat for my esteemed club. It’s bad for business!”

Suddenly, the door to the cabin opened. Omega poked his head inside. “THAT WAS EXHILARATING,” he said, ignoring Rouge’s agitated glare. “NOTIFY ME SO THE NEXT TIME YOU FLY, I CAN BE ON BOARD, BLUE HEDGEHOG.”

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or not. “Glad you enjoyed yourself, Omega.”

Shadow started inching toward the door.

Rouge sighed. "Hopefully there won't be a next time," she said. "And if there is, it'll be far away from my precious things!" She joined Shadow at the door to the cabin, but paused before going through it. With one hand on the door frame, she glanced back over her shoulder at Sonic. "But enough griping. You really came through in the end, Blue. I won't forget it."

Then, Rouge squeezed past Omega and joined Shadow in the cabin. She was followed by Buggy, who beeped excitedly before zooming between the large robot's legs, and Omega, not one to be left behind, quickly followed after them.

And so it was that Sonic stood alone in the cockpit. He grinned, his brain humming with a sense of satisfaction. An immense happiness at having successfully protected his friends filled his chest. Because it meant he'd fulfilled his primary directive, and Doctor Eggman would be pleased with--

Sonic's expression fell so fast it would've set a new world record for "emotional whiplash," if there was such a thing. He clutched at his chest with one hand, suddenly all too aware of himself.

Where had that thought come from?

It didn't sound like him. It couldn't have been him. He wasn't a Robian anymore, so why was he still thinking like one? The warm feeling in his chest lingered, but it made him sick. Happy. Nauseous. Happy. Uncomfortable.

Sonic gritted his teeth. Whatever was going on inside of his head could wait. The confusing mishmash of feelings faded, and he dashed out of the cockpit to join the rest of Team Dark on the roof of the casino.

Rouge was inspecting the golden tiles for marks. When she saw Sonic, she shot him a sly look. "It's your lucky day," she said. "It's spotless."

Sonic puffed up. The only thing off about his expression now was his uncanny eyes. "You expect anything less?"

"Not really. Your reputation precedes you, hero," she said.

Sonic stiffened, but played it off with a shrug. "Wouldn't make us a very good team if I trashed your place day one!"

"We'll need to do something about Eggy's ship, though," Rouge said, her nose crinkling in distaste. "It totally clashes with the decor. I'm thinking after we all get settled inside, we talk color schemes. Redecorating seems like the way to go, since there's no way it'll fit in the parking lot."

Omega piped up, "SUGGESTION: DESTROY THE EGGMAN BATTLESHIP?"

Rouge wagged a finger. "I don't think so, tough guy. My casino isn't acceptable collateral for your demolition spree! Besides, those badniks are gonna need someplace to stay that's out of sight from customers."

Omega wilted.

But it was for the best.

[geeky-politics-46]

His Prize

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Stephen just can't seem to get enough of you, so he steals himself a little prize while you are in the shower.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - male masturbation, panty stealing, reference to oral sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk

It was like he was a horny awkward teenager again. Now that you were there with him. All his thoughts revolved around you. Everything from the sweet way you smiled at him to the sinful way you would lick something off your fingertips during dinner. It all made him think of sex. Specifically sex with you. As much of it and in as many ways as possible. 

All the positions he could have you in. All the sides of your personality, one by one, showing through as he worked on you. Sweet and caring, whispering loving words to him one minute transforming into savage and feral, begging for him to call you his little slut the next. 

All the surfaces he could fuck you on or against. He even had a list of what pieces of furniture he wanted to see if the two of you could break while fucking. That was the upside of the universe already being in shambles. No harm in breaking a few more things when so much was already broken.

All of these images and thoughts seemed to loop endlessly in his mind. It was amazing he wasn't hard 24 hours a day with the way his hormones seemed to be in overdrive.

On the one hand, it wasn't surprising. Having spent so long alone, of course, he was going to react this way when a beautiful woman suddenly shows up as the only other person in the universe. It was basic biology at it's simplest. The need and drive to create more humans continued, even in a dying world.

On the other hand, he was still amazed at the way his own body reacted to you. Even just the smell of you, or the sound of your voice from another room. The powerful sorcerer wasn't accustomed to being caught so off guard, and everything you did threw him off balance. It had him thinking things he knew he shouldn't. 

Even now that you were together, officially an item, he still found his mind and body fighting his baser urges. He didn't want to reveal to you just how much of a hold you had on him. He wanted to play it cool, but how could he when everything you did got him going? 

That is how he found himself in this predicament. He had shut himself away in his study after he had absconded with his stolen prize. A beautiful deep purple lace pair of your panties. The ones he knew you had been wearing before you went to shower. 

He could almost still feel the warmth of your skin on the fabric. Just nearly. That wasn't the part of you he was most concerned about, though. It was your scent. The essence of you that had soaked into the fabric. 

He let the delicate lace dangle from his fingers at eye level as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A smirk crossing his face as a growl came from deep in his chest. He could smell that you had gotten aroused at some point while wearing them.

Perhaps it was in bed that morning. When he had started kissing your neck? No, that couldn't have been it. You were both already naked then. It must have been when he cornered you in the library and proceeded to make out with you until you both nearly knocked down a bookshelf. 

As he started to inspect your panties, he saw the last traces of your wetness remained. Your sweet nectar that he craved like the last drop of water in a dry desert. He let his tongue lightly lick over the patch. It wasn't nearly enough to sate his hunger, but it was plenty enough to get him even more turned on.

He quickly worked to undo his robes as he sat down on the plush upholstery of the small loveseat. Pulling his pants down just enough to free his throbbing length. Pre-cum already starting to leak from the tip and already fighting the urge to wrap your panties around himself. He knew just how needy he looked as scrambled to get at himself. 

There was something so depraved about the thought that his appetite for you was so ravenous that he couldn't control himself and had resorted to stealing your used panties to jack off with. He just couldn't get his mind to concentrate on anything but you. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't afraid his hunger would scare you off or make you think all he wanted was your body. 

So, instead of just pouncing on you or jumping in the shower with you, he decided this was the safer route for now. He wondered if he would confess to you what he was doing. What you would say. Would it turn you on to know the effect you had on him? Would you tell him he was naughty? Your dirty boy. 

He kinda liked the thought of that. Of you calling him your dirty boy. He so loved the way you sometimes took control in bed. He had gotten into the habit of asking for permission to cum, wanting to hear you tell him it was okay. God, he wanted to obey every word you said. He wanted to be such a good boy for you. 

He moaned out loud at that thought as he nuzzled the lace of your panties with his sharp cheekbone. His other hand finally going to grip his cock. Squirming as he tried not to begin thrusting into his fist. He wanted to take his time with this. Really cherish the prize the gods had bestowed on him.

He let his mind drift through a variety of scenarios. Finally settling on one of his favorites. You, all needy for him and coming to his study to beg for him to please you. Him letting you take what you needed from him, and him just enjoying you. Before he would inevitably turn the tables and pound you so hard you couldn't stand up afterward.

It was a scenerio you had played out together a few times before, but he still had lots of ways he wanted it to go. Mainly positions to fuck you in and pretty little things to beg him for. Perhaps this time he would have you bent over the desk. Maybe you had come into his office and promptly bent over for him. Already whining and writhing in need.

Wiggling your little panty covered pussy in his face like an animal in heat. Letting him discover just how wet you were when he reached over and pulled your panties to the side. Your perfect tight little cunt drooling for him and right at eye level. Oh fuck yes, this was the fantasy he wanted today.

In his mind he couldn't help but dive face first into your pussy. Licking up every drop of your sweet nectar, letting nothing go to waste. He could practically cum right now solely from the thought eating you out. Even just the fantasy of it with his face buried in your panties was enough to have him throbbing.

Short sharp ruts of his hips as he let his hand start to stroke up and down his long, hard shaft. He refused to really begin working himself until he was fucking you in his imagination. He hated to rush, but he knew eventually he would be discovered by you. 

So he let his imagination skip forward a bit to the main event. Your naked body pressed flat face down on his desk, him standing naked behind you. One hand on the center of your back and his other clasped with yours. His eyes locked on the reflection of you two in the mirror across from his desk. 

Watching your face as he teased the head of his cock over your dripping slit. Sliding it up and down over and over. Letting you start to whimper and whine, begging for more. 

He would imagine you were just as wrecked for him as he is for you. 

"Oh kitten, falling to pieces already, and we've hardly gotten started. Don't worry, honey. Daddy will take care of you, just like you take such good care of me."

He could almost feel how he would slowly start to breach your tight hole. Moving almost painfully slow. Letting you feel each inch as your body stretched to accommodate him. Wrapping tight around his cock like you cunt was made just for him. 

You always felt so much better than his hand, but the sight of your panties wrapped around his shaft looked nearly as sinful as the sight of you cunt swallowing him. Letting his pre-cum drip from his swollen flushed head before smearing it around. He imagined it was your arousal coating him instead of his own. 

Stephen slowly started to thrust his hips up into his fist, just like he would thrust into you. Keeping his eyes locked on the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from his fingers like it would from your wet heat. Even though he knew you would feel 10 times better than his hand ever could. 

Even now with just the mental image of you and your panties to stoke the fire inside him he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. The echo of your moans ricocheting through his mind as his own grunts became too hard to silence. How beautifully your body and your voice answered his every movement. His perfect plaything. 

He could feel the coil starting to tighten at the base of his spine. Bringing the lacey pair of panties back up to press against his face in and effort to conceal the deep tenor and vibration of his wanton growls. Taking the soft fabric between his teeth as he struggled to keep the speed of his thrusts slow. 

Flashes of your face contorted in rapture as you whined in need below him, or even better when you lost yourself in your own pleasure as you rode his cock. A nymph who held him captive as you pursued your own need to climax. Pulling him along with you, letting him drown in your primal lust. Granting him the heavenly treat of not only being present to your undoing, but being a part of it. He was never a religious man, but he swore it was the closest he had ever had to a religious experience. 

He couldn't control his own actions any farther, his own greediness blotting out any thought of dragging out his fun. He let his hand begin to speed up, and his hips started to thrust faster up into his own fist. The sound of his full balls slapping up against his hand urging him to go even faster. Even harder.

His eyes closed and pressed his face tight to the delicate fabric. Breathing in your scent as deeply as he could as he felt his own orgasm on the horizon. Wanting to hold his breath as he finally brought your panties to wrap around his cock. The change in texture making his head fall back and his mouth drop open.

He was so close. He pictured your body jolting forward on his desk as he began pounding into you harder. His body engulfing yours. Draped over you so he could mark you with a litany of kisses and bites as he fucked you. The little scratches your nails would leave on the polished wood a permanent reminder of that tryst.

As he felt himself at the precipice of orgasm he imagined you turning to lock eyes with him. Pressing your forehead to his, sweat beading along both of your bodies. The intimacy between you cresting as he imagined your cunt squeezing him tight. Needing you to cum before he could, even in his own fantasy. 

He finally let himself tip over the edge at your imaginary urging. Letting your sweet voice beg for him to fill you. Picking the perfect words to let himself fall over the edge. 

"Please, Stephen. Cum inside me. Mark me as yours. Need to feel you fill me up. Cum Stephen. Cum for me." 

A lightning bolt shooting down his spinal cord as his hips lifted up off the couch completely. A deep growl tearing from his throat as he filled the soft fabric of your panties with his warm seed. His hips reflexively jerking with each throb of his cock. By the time he was finished the only sounds he could hear was his blood rushing in his ears and his own ragged breathing. 

Stephen let himself linger in the afterglow for only a couple of moments. He knew that it wouldn't be long before you came looking for him. A simple wave of his hand and the shimmer of his violet colored magic cleaning him up and reassembling his robes. The only evidence of his exploits that remained was your panties now stained with streaks of his sticky white cum.

He slowly stood from the loveseat and walked over to the large wooden desk. Opening the bottom drawer on the right-hand side of the desk before carefully placing the soiled lacey prize into the drawer. Smiling to himself as he carefully slid the drawer shut, making sure to make as little noise as possible. 

Eventually, he would give them back to you, but for now, he wasn't ready to relinquish his prize back to you just yet. At least, not until he found another pair to enjoy in their place. They were far better than any plaque or trinket from his neurosurgeon days, and they were more sacred to him than any ancient magic relic. They were a reminder that you were his, and he was yours. 

They were a reminder that you were his ultimate prize.

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

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[selineram3421]

Ha... Summer is coming. And with it the change of temperature.

Isekai'd

Part 1: Saved By the Undertaker

Prologue

~

Vash (Tristamp) X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ cussing, slight heat coma?[just passing out] ⚠

You don't know how long you've been walking.

The heat was distorting time and you were uncomfortable, sweat being produced by your body and some running down your forehead.

I can't believe I've been Isekai'd.

Not only that, you didn't know when in the series you landed.

Its only logical that I landed around the first episodes. You thought. But I can't be too sure.. What if I'm in Trigun 98? Geez its hot.

The clothes you were wearing weren't helping. They clung to your skin and trapped the heat in, and your shoes were filled with sand.

The only thing on your mind was to find a town quick, or hope for some help to pass by.

I have to be careful though, there's a lot of creeps and assholes.

At some point you stumbled upon a large rock. You didn't think much of it but then realized that it would have shade to help you cool off.

Oh thank whatever being placed this here.

Rushing over, you slid into the shade on your knees and leaned back, letting your back rest against the rock.

"I swear, if I kept walking any longer I would have gotten a bad sunburn.", you sighed.

Now that you've stopped walking, the feeling of being tired set in your bones. It didn't help that you stayed up all night watching anime.

I can't go to sleep though. You thought, feeling your eyelids droop. I have to..

The heat was making you sleepy.

It was a problem you had even on Earth, your body just shut down whenever it got too hot.

I can't..

That was the last thing you thought before passing out.

✴

A tree.

You saw a tree after opening your eyes. Then the feeling of grass brushing against your fingers.

The wind was blowing softly and made the leafs rustle, light shimmering through the spaces between. Making it look like sparkling gold.

This is nice. You thought, feeling calm.

A song was playing but you didn't notice until the wind stopped.

Someone was humming.

Turning your head, you see a woman with black hair near a meadow of red flowers. And then you remembered.

"Rem?", you spoke out loud.

She turned to face you with a smile.

Then all of it faded away.

✴

You woke up in a daze.

Ribs hurting, meaning you slept for way too long.

After sitting up, you notice that you're not in the desert anymore. Instead you find yourself in a room that smells a lot like a hospital or clinic.

How did I-? You think before a sudden dizzy spell takes over and you lean to the side, falling off the bed with a loud thud.

"Ow."

You hear the door opening and at least two sets of footsteps rushing into the room.

"You shouldn't be moving around yet.", an older man says and helps you sit up.

He looks like the boiler man from Spirited Away, just a little bit. But his moustache is white and he's wearing glasses instead of the little shades. Obviously, no extra set of arms.

"Young man.", he looks over at the other person that followed him in. "Could you help them back onto the bed?"

Following the old man's gaze, you see a tall man with black hair, black shades, and wearing a suit. Smoking a cigarette-

"And please put that out, there is no smoking allowed in the clinic.", the old man says.

Woolfwood!? You think in shock.

"Sure.", he says with a sigh, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and putting it out.

Seriously, when the fuck am I in the series!?

Now back on the bed, the old man does a quick check up on you.

"You're lucky. If this man hadn't found you, you would have ended up as worm food.", he says and hands you a glass of water.

"Thanks.", you say and gulp down the water.

I honestly would have accepted my fate. You thought.

"Um, where am I exactly?", you ask.

"You're in the city of Lowland", the doctor says.

You hum and try to remember the map that was brought up in the episodes.

If I remember correctly, Jeneora Rock is to the West of here. You thank the old man before getting too deep in your thoughts. I'll have to draw up the map soon.

"I've got a question.", Nicholas pipes in, making you look over at him. "Where are you from? You don't look like you're properly..uh"

Oh shit oh shit oh shit-!

You hope the panic doesn't show on your face as you try and think up some sort of excuse.

"I-I don't remember.", you stutter out and look down with confusion written on your face.

I'm going to have to play the amnesia card! Its the only way for right now!

"I just remember walking through the desert and resting in the shade.", you say and try to sell the act by looking frustrated. "I can't remember.."

"It sounds like a case of amnesia.", the doctor says.

I'm playing a card that most fanfics use! I'm sorry but I couldn't think of anything else!

"Sounds like shitty situation.", Nicholas syas.

You have no idea. You think, crying internally.

"I'm off then.", the man in the suit says and starts making his way to the door. "You're not dead and I have no reason to be around anymore."

Before he could walk out the door, your brain rushed out some words.

"At least tell me your name!"

The undertaker glances over his shoulder to look at you. "Nicholas.", he says and puts an unlit cigarette between his lips. "Nicholas D. Wolfwood."

Then he walks out.

Very in character. You think and sigh, letting your head hang down. How am I going to survive on this hellish planet?

Looking down at your hands, you notice something that somehow passed over your head.

I'm in Trigun Stampede and-

"I'M FUCKING ANIMATED!?"

Lol, he thought you were dead.

~Seline, the person.

Next: Part 2

Taglist@ ?

ML Vash | ChL Isekai'd

[angelsanarchy]

One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 09

"You know that door has a lock." "Sorry to offend your sensibilities."

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @siriuslymooned @cc-luvr @crypticsewerslut @icarus-star @desert-springtime @shady-the-simp

SATURDAY, 10PM

Y/n had never been happier to see a shower in her life. The smell of Beau had started to stick with her and she couldn't handle sleeping in a bed next to Clyde knowing she smelled so awful. The upkeep of the communal shower was also a pretty decent surprise for a complex full of mostly young men.

Lola had given her some body wash that smelled a lot like coconuts and Clyde had travel sized bottles of shampoo that he said he would bring her once they got back. Y/n wasn't going to wait for him to return before turning on the hot water and stripping out of her clothes. The overwhelming smell of the body wash was already easing the stench that had settled into her skin.

"Thank God. Bring me all the beachy smells." Y/n let the water run through her hair, steam filling the room much faster than she expected.

"Okay I lied, I only have this random bottle of off brand shampoo-" Clyde walked into the bathroom expecting Y/n to still be dressed and just warming up the water but there she was, completely naked and wet, soap suds running down her hips. Clyde froze. He knew he shouldn't be staring but this was not the first time he had wondered what she looked like naked. Hell before she even talked to him, he had thought about her naked, on top of him, fucking his brains out.

"Oh- you scared me!" Y/n jumped when she opened her eyes to see Clyde standing there gripping the shampoo bottle like it was a bomb.

"I'm sorry. Sorry, I'm-" Clyde backed into the door causing it to slam shut. He dropped the shampoo on the floor and scrambled to pick it up only succeeding to make his hands soapy and unable to grip the doorknob.

"Clyde...hey hey CLYDE! It's okay." Y/n saw the look on Clyde's face and instantly felt guilty. She didn't think Clyde had seen much from the steam but he saw enough to feel guilty for having seen her unexpectedly. She grabbed the huge beach towel Johnny had given her from the top of his clean laundry pile and wrapped it around herself.

"FUCK! I'm so sorry. This stupid fucking shampoo-" Clyde held his hands up and Y/n put her hand on his wrist.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry I kind of startled you with my birthday suit." She tried to laugh but Clyde kept his eyes down like he was ashamed.

"You know that door has a lock." Clyde cleared his throat.

"Sorry to offend your sensibilities." Y/n teased but when Clyde didn't respond, she became nervous.

"Hey now, if you keep looking like that, I'm going to start hiding my self consciousness with offense." Her hair dripped on the floor and Clyde finally looked at her.

"I just...I didn't plan to see you naked like this-." Clyde was blushing horribly and Y/n chuckled.

"Oh yeah? How did you plan on seeing me naked?" Y/n pulled him by the wrist towards the sink to clean his hands.

"I didn't actually mean that. I don't have some dubious plan to get you naked, I promise." Clyde pleaded by Y/n shook her head.

"Clyde, I've never once consider any of your actions to be dubious in nature. You've given me a place to stay for the weekend and have been super sweet the entire time." Clyde's shoulders seem to relax washing the suds from his hands hearing Y/n's reassurance.

"I just don't want you to think I've got some motive." Clyde shook his hands out and Y/n nodded.

"To be fair, if you did have a master plan, I would say it's working out in your favor. We've hung out for two days and you've already seen me naked and slept with me." Y/n joked making Clyde finally smile.

"Even now you don't seem to want to make a move of any kind. I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to have to make the moves here." Y/n stepped closer towards him.

"I knew you were going to bring me shampoo. I still kept the door unlocked. I still got naked. I still made sure to wash the smell of another guy off me before you walked in." Clyde swallowed hard.

"So you wanted me to see you." Clyde confirmed and Y/n took his wet hands into her own to dry on the inside of her towel. Clyde kept his eyes on his hands as they disappeared into the towel to touch Y/n's wet torso.

"Maybe I wanted you to see me. Maybe I thought it would push you to take a risk like you did when you asked me to come back to your apartment." Y/n tilted her head and tucking some of Clyde's hair behind his ear. Clyde let both of his hands grip Y/n's hips to back her into the sink, leaning his forehead against hers.

"I'm not much for foreplay in the community shower. I'm more of a one on one, no audience kind of guy. I'm not sure what kind of move you had in mind." Clyde explained removing his hands from inside of the towel catching some of the water from her neck with his index finger.

"Then how about you do me a huge favor and just guard the door so no one else has to walk in on me naked." Y/n turned towards the shower, removing her towel and handing it back to Clyde before walking back into the spray. She kept the door open for him to watch for just a moment longer before she pulled the see-through door almost all the way closed. Clyde backed into the wall of the bathroom and kept his eyes on the outline of her figure. Clyde could kick himself for not being as assertive as the other guys. He should have ripped her out of that towel and fucked her right there in the shower but that's not who he is.

Clyde was a romantic. He wanted to take Y/n out of her clothes and kiss her from her forehead to the feet. He wanted to make her feel good with his hands, while she moaned his name into his good ear. He wanted to fuck her without fear of interruption of a roommate or an unexpected guest barging in. He wanted to bury his face into her cunt for so long that she would be pulling his hair hard enough to hurt from how good she felt.

He could feel himself getting hard in his shorts and he reached into his pocket to try and adjust himself without Y/n noticing. Having her turn around towards the door to rinse the shampoo out of her hair wasn't helping. Her breasts were perfect. A beautiful size to spill over his palms and nipples he desperately wanted to put in his mouth. She had a small scar under her right breast that he made a note to ask about if he ever got the chance to be in her naked presence ever again. Her hand cupped over her pussy making Clyde look up and meet her gaze. She smirked at him and he felt his mouth go dry.

The back of the door smacked into him making him stumble forward and Snow poked her head in.

"Oh hey, sorry I have to pee and Lola is using your bathroom." Snow pushed past Clyde and Y/n had pushed the shower door all the way closed by the time she walked in.

"Yeah uh can you give her this when she's done? I've got to go really quick. Make sure I locked up my van." Clyde lied before racing through the door and slamming it behind himself as he rushed painfully down the steps towards the parking lot with a full hard on and nowhere private to take care of it.

Y/n had said she wanted him to make a move but he had no idea what that move could possibly be that she wouldn't laugh at or completely humiliate himself. He didn't just want to have a quick fuck with Y/n, he wanted to be able to hold her hand and take her on real dates. He hadn't even gotten a chance to kiss her yet and now he was trying to think about anything else in the world to help him control his raging boner.