#everyone clap I drew a background

[viktorclawthorne]

My piece for @opanimalszine 🦈

[poibynt]

Fanart (of nothing that actually happens it’s just fanart of the vibes ig???) of @hockeyisforthegays’ jjk fic Annoying Heroine. The way this fic has possessed me body and soul, especially the Suguru & Yuuji bestism. I think about them like an unhealthy amount. Thus, I felt required to draw them having a good time (for once). + Yuuji in some mid 2000s fit I saw on Pinterest. Alt versions under the cut.

I’m aiming to draw actual fanart of the fic fanart…eventually.

[blairenqs]

୨୧ HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT ✧ SPENCER REID

───── IN WHICH 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆, 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 !

𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝖿!𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋 𝓍 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝟣.𝟥𝖪 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻, 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ♡ ⎯⎯ 𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝒾𝖵𝖤

IT WAS A RAINY EARLY MORNING, the worst kind of morning when you had an early briefing at the bau.

you sat at the round conference table, cold hands collecting warmth from the steaming hot cup of coffee.

across the table, jj and garcia were deep in conversation about some celebrity drama you could care less about in the moment, quite literally just wanting to be swallowed by your fluffy blankets.

their voices were a comforting background as you waited for your brain to catch up with the rest of you.

it was too early—so painfully early, and you were already debating a second cup of coffee when morgan walked in.

and there it was—that familiar gleam in his eye that immediately set off warning bells. he looked far too happy for this hour of the day, and that smirk plastered on his face had trouble written all over it.

he made his way to the rounded table and clapped his hands once, the sharp sound startling you as it echoed through the room and drew everyone’s attention. —READ MORE!

“alright guys,” he said, leaning forward against the table with an exaggerated flair that always meant he had a story to tell. “you’re not gonna believe what i just found out.”

garcia’s eyes lit up instantly, and she immediately turned towards him like a cat spotting a mouse. “ooh, morning gossip? don’t leave me hanging now!”

jj leaned back in her chair, eyebrows raised in curiosity. even rossi looked intrigued, though he didn’t say anything, opting in to sip his coffee with an amused expression instead.

morgan’s eyes landed on you briefly, and for a second, his grin faltered. “uh… sorry kid,” he said with a shrug, almost like he genuinely meant it.

you frowned at his words, instantly suspicious. “sorry for what… what did you do?” morgan put a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “why do you always assume i did something?”

“because you always do,” you said dryly with a sigh, placing your now luke-warm cup down. emily chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “she’s got a point, derek.”

“okay, okay, fair,” he armpits, holding his hands up in mock surrender—then, his smirk returned as he leaned in closer. “but i’m telling you, i didn’t do anything this time. i just… observed something very interesting.”

garcia gasped dramatically, leaning forward with her hands up under her chin. “spill it already, or so help me—i’ll hack into your google account and leak your search history.”

morgan chuckled, clearly enjoying the anticipation. “alright—fine. here’s the deal, i was walking past reid earlier—”

“oh god,” you whispered with a groan, already dreading where this was going. “—and i just happened to glance over his shoulder while he was texting.”

“derek!” emily scolded, although there was no real offence behind her words.

“what? it’s not like i meant to!” he said, holding up his hands defensively. “but listen—this is where it gets good.”

rossi raised an eyebrow. “get on with it then, geez.”

morgan looked around the table, clearly enjoying the suspense he was building. “the contact name was ‘my love.’” garcia gasped so loudly you nearly flinched out of your seat. “oh my god!”

“and—” morgan continued, raising his voice to be heard over her exclamation, “—he wrote, ‘i love you.’ i saw it plain as day before he closed the app.”

jj’s eyes went wide as she turned to look at you, sympathy practically oozing from her expression. “oh no,” she whispered, her tone soft and full of concern.

you blinked, confused by the sudden emotional shift in energy of the room. “what? why are you guys looking at me like that?”

jj reached out like she wanted to engulf you in a hug. “sweetheart, i’m so sorry. we didn’t know he was… seeing someone.”

“what?” you said, your voice practically a shriek.

garcia scooted her seat closer to you, her face full of maternal concern. “it’s okay honey,” she said reassuringly. “we know how you feel about reid. and honestly? i don’t blame you, it makes sense. he’s sweet and smart, and who wouldn’t fall for that? but—” she gave your hand a little squeeze. “you deserve someone who’s going to feel the same way about you.”

your brain felt like it had been electrocuted. “wait—pen—no, you’ve got it all wrong. i don’t—”

“it’s okay to admit it,” emily interrupted, her voice empathizing. “we’ve all seen the way you look at him. there’s no shame in having feelings for someone.”

“i—what—no!” you stammered, your face growing hotter by the second. “you guys are completely off base!”

“denial is a river in egypt,” garcia said with an upside-down grin, nodding like she just dropped some profound wisdom.

morgan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. “hey—no judgment here. it’s tough when your crush is dating someone else. but you’ll bounce back, you’re strong.”

your mouth opened and closed, trying to form a response that would shut this entire conversation down without spilling the truth—because the truth was, spencer wasn’t dating someone else. he was dating you.

he had been for months.

you barely had time to gather your scrambled thoughts before the door to the conference room swung open, and in walked spencer, the man of the hour—coffee in one hand and his bag slung over his shoulder.

he looked as endearingly disheveled as ever, looking the same as you left him in the morning—his tie slightly crooked, his hair falling into his eyes—and your heart did the stupid fluttery thing it always did when he was around.

“morning,” he greeted, his voice soft as he glanced around the room. then, his gaze landed on you, you who looked as if you had just seen a ghost, and his brow furrowed slightly. “what’s going on?”

everyone froze—their eyes darting to you.

“nothing!” garcia shrieked, far too loudly.

“yeah, nothing alright,” morgan repeated, though his smirk said otherwise.

spencer tilted his head—clearly unconvinced, but before he could push again, the door opened, and hotch strode in with his usual workaholic presence.

“let’s get started,” hotch said, not sparing a glance to the lingering awkwardness that seems to be in the air today.

the briefing began, thankfully putting an end to the antagonizing conversation. but throughout the meeting—you could feel spencer’s eyes on you, his gaze filled with a quiet concern.

when the briefing ended, the team quickly separated to gather their essentials for the flight. you hung back, pretending to check something in your bag, but really just waiting for the room to empty. as the last of them walked out, spencer approached..

“you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with the familiar worried tone.

you barely had time to answer before his arms slipped around you, pulling you into a hug. it was gentle and comforting, but when you relaxed against his embrace, his grip tightened, his warmth seeping into you.

you laughed softly, resting your forehead against his chest. “spence, someone might walk in.”

“i don’t care,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your hair. “you seemed tense earlier. did something happen?”

you hesitated, not sure how to even explain the bizarre situation— so instead, you tilted your head up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

his eyes widened in surprise, but they softened almost immediately. “what was that for, love?” he asked, his voice warm with curiosity.

“i’ll tell you about it at home,” you said quietly, brushing a hand over his tie to straighten it. he sighed but didn’t let go, his forehead resting against yours. “you promise?”

“i promise,” you whispered with one last kiss to his nose, smiling up at him.

he finally loosened his hold reluctantly, letting you pull away, though his hands lingered on your waist.

his sheepish smile was so full of affection it made your chest ache in the best way possible. as you grabbed your bag and headed towards the door, he followed close behind, his hand brushing against yours as you walked.

whatever misunderstanding the team had, it could wait. for now, you and spencer had each other, and you suppose you can handle the ‘broken heart’ allegations for a little while longer.

𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

© blairenqs 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

✧ 𝑓. tysm for 200 followers !! 🥹🫶 i’m so grateful oh m gee <3 i’m currently on spring break and i have no social life whatsoever & i was in the trenches of depression but this made my whole month. THANK YOUU ! spencer brainrotting my way thru life 🕺

𓂃ㅤ 𝓉𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ୨୧ @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @lcvealwayss @viennasolace ♡ thank you so much for joining !

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Twenty-Five}

{<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Harwin Strong x whore!Reader} Request {Anon}: Kinktober request for Ser Harwin Strong, spanking please🤭🍑

♡♡♡ Yessssss anon!! I wish we had more Harwin onscreen!! Rhaenyra has TASTE ..♡♡♡

2k words - Kinks: public sex & lots of spanking ...

When a tourney was held in the city, it always led to a celebration that made the streets buzz with excitement. The taverns were packed, the ale flowed endlessly, and every brothel knew they would have a busy night. Tonight was no different, knights with heavy coin purses, drunk on victory and violence, were spilling into the streets.

Inside the brothel, the Madame clapped her hands, calling for your attention. “Alright, ladies, look alive. The winner will be flush with coin, but don’t turn down the others. They’ll want to celebrate too, so make sure you see two, three, or more.”

You nodded along with the other girls, glancing at the mirror one last time. You tightened your corset, adjusted the cut of your bodice, and arranged your hair in a way that made your eyes look bigger and more innocent than they were. Satisfaction tugged at your lips as you appraised your reflection.

Out in the large tent where the celebration was in full swing, knights were already filling every corner with their bragging, laughing, and loud toasts. The air was thick with the scent of ale, sweat, and fire-roasted meat. Music and chatter hummed in the background as you made your way through, easily falling into your rhythm, sidling up to men who sought the company of a woman. You let their hands wander as you settled on their laps, whispered encouragements and playful words, and soon your pockets grew heavy with coins.

The loudest cheer of the night came when the champion himself entered the tent. Harwin Strong. He was hard to miss, a massive man with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and a presence that made everyone else seem smaller. He was wearing the cloak of his house, and as he moved closer, you could see the sigil embroidered into the fabric.

He settled at a table surrounded by fellow knights, their boasting continuing while Harwin mostly listened, sipping from a goblet of wine, his face relaxed and faintly amused. Something about his quiet confidence drew you in. Without thinking, your feet carried you toward him.

You curtsied when you approached, hoping to be noticed. A few of his companions turned to you first.

“Well, look what the gods have blessed us with,” one of them smirked, raising his mug. “A beauty for our champion, eh?”

Harwin glanced up at you, his eyes taking in your form with interest but no rush. “You want a drink, love?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a spark of warmth down your spine.

You accepted the goblet he offered and smiled. “Thank you, ser.”

“Go on, sit with him,” another knight said with a chuckle, sliding a coin across the table. “Our champion deserves the best company tonight.”

Harwin leaned back in his chair, a faint smile on his lips as he watched you. The invitation was clear, so you settled on his lap, immediately aware of his strength as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. The firmness of his thigh beneath you, the warmth of his body, it was impossible not to lean into it

“You fought well, ser,” you said, your fingers trailing along his arm, feeling the muscles under his tunic. “A well-earned victory.”

He smiled at that, the weight of his gaze resting on you. “I appreciate it,” he said, his voice low, vibrating through you as his hand tightened slightly around your waist.

"Bet she’d like to see you wield that sword of yours again, eh?" one of the knights teased with a bawdy laugh.

"Leave her be," Harwin said, though there was no malice in his voice. His fingers brushed absentmindedly along the edge of your skirts, grazing the bare skin of your thigh.

“You’re a proper gentleman,” you said with a teasing smile, letting your legs part just enough for his hand to slip higher if he wanted. He didn't move, instead watching you with a slight quirk of his lips.

He was patient and gentle, even while you tried your best to spur him on, and the longer he waited, the more your frustration grew.

The men around you continued their rowdy conversations, boasting about their feats in the tourney, their drunken voices filling the air. Harwin, however, remained focused on you. His fingers finally ventured further under your skirt, stroking your skin in slow, lazy circles. The touch was light, too light, but the promise of it made your heart race.

You shifted against him, letting him know that you welcomed his touch, but still, he took his time, his gaze never wavering.

The longer the evening went, the more you found yourself forgetting the crowd around you. Harwin’s touch was both gentle and firm, driving you to distraction as he slowly teased you under the table, never fully giving you what you wanted.

By now, the other girls had already begun to entertain their marks more openly. The tent was filled with soft gasps and moans, the sound of bodies moving together in dimly lit corners. But Harwin seemed in no rush.

His thumb finally pressed against your wet center, stroking gently while his fingers slipped inside you. Your breath caught, but the only reaction you received was a smile. He was watching you intently, studying your expression as he began to pump his fingers inside you.

You bit back a moan, gripping his tunic, your body begging for more.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You’re quite the pretty thing, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust as his fingers pushed deeper. "How much for a night with you?"

You swallowed a gasp "Three gold coins,"

"That's a steep price, love."

You leaned into his touch, letting your breath caress his ear. "A champion could afford me, don't you think?"

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a thrill of anticipation through you. "Is that so?" he mused, his fingers curling inside you. You bit back a moan, trying to keep yourself from moving against him, from begging him to take you here and now.

"I suppose a champion could afford to be a bit greedy." He nipped at your ear, his beard scraping your skin.

"Then take me to bed, ser," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his throat.

"And what about a bit rough?" he asked, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive nub. "Would you be alright with that, little dove?"

You whimpered, your hips rocking against his hand. "Please,"

He smirked, pulling away and withdrawing his fingers. The absence of his touch left you cold and wanting, but before you could complain, he rose from his seat, wrapping his cloak around your shoulders.

You could feel the jealous looks of the other women as you passed by, their envy a tangible thing. It had you grinning, knowing you were about to have a champion all to yourself.

"So, do I get to see the sword that won the day, ser?" you teased, trailing your fingers over the bulge in his trousers.

"Is that why you chose me, love?" he chuckled, his grip tightening on your waist. "You like watching men fight?"

"I like seeing men win," you replied, leaning into him. "And I like a man who can win a battle, a tournament, and a woman's heart."

He laughed, a low, warm sound that sent a tingle of pleasure down your spine.

You could barely close the door behind you when Harwin suddenly spun you around, pinning you to the wall. His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and pressing his hardness against your center. The feel of him, thick and hot, made your mouth water.

He claimed your lips in a searing kiss, his hands squeezing your ass and pulling you closer. His mouth was demanding, his tongue dominating yours, and all you could do was cling to him and surrender.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "I'm going to take what I want, and you're going to give it to me, aren't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, arching against him, desperate for more.

"Good girl," he murmured, his mouth trailing along your jaw, nipping at the tender skin of your throat. "Such a good little whore."

He pulled away from you and pushed the cloak off your shoulders, letting it pool on the floor.

"Take off the dress, love," he ordered, his gaze heavy with lust.

You did as he commanded, letting the gown fall to the floor, exposing yourself completely. You felt his gaze rake over your body, drinking in every inch of bare skin.

He quickly tugged off his own clothes, tossing them aside, leaving his strong, muscular body bare to your eyes. Your gaze traveled over the expanse of his chest, taking in the scars, the hard planes of his stomach, the thick shaft of his cock, and the way it twitched under your scrutiny.

He stepped closer, his hands gripping your hips, spinning you around and bending you over the edge of the bed. You felt the hard line of his cock press against your ass, and you couldn't stop the whimper that escaped your lips.

"You like that, love?" he rasped, his hands running over your curves, squeezing and groping, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "You like it when a man takes what he wants?"

"A man like you? Yes," you moaned, rocking your hips against him.

He chuckled, and his hand came down hard on your ass. You gasped, the sting of his palm sharp but strangely satisfying.

"That's it, pretty thing," he growled, his hand coming down again, and again, spanking you with a steady rhythm that had your core aching. "Let me hear you sing."

Your fingers curled into the sheets, your breath coming in short, ragged pants. Each smack of his hand sent a wave of pleasure through you, your skin heated and sore, but still, you craved more.

You cried out, arching your back and pressing against him, silently begging for more.

He obliged, his hand coming down harder, the slap echoing in the room, and then he stopped, his calloused palms caressing your sore flesh, soothing the ache.

You could feel his cock, hard and hot, pressed against your ass, and a moan fell from your lips as he pushed into you. The stretch was exquisite, filling you to the brim, and the delicious burn made your head spin.

He let out a groan as he began to move, slow and deliberate. His hands gripping your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts.

You moaned, gripping the sheets, your body aching for more. "Please," you begged, pushing back against him, needing him deeper, harder.

The room was filled with the sounds of your cries, his grunts, and the slap of skin on skin. His hands were rough and demanding, his cock thick and hard, and you surrendered yourself to the pleasure, your body shaking with need.

Your fingers twisted into the sheets, your breath coming in short, sharp pants as he continued to thrust into you, each push bringing you closer to the edge.

You were so close, and all it took was one last rough smack, the sting of his palm causing you to shatter, crying out as the pleasure swept through you.

Harwin followed right after, pulling out just in time to spill himself across your back, his breath ragged. You collapsed onto the bed, your skin flushed and tingling from the mix of pleasure and pain.

After a moment, he leaned over, wiping his release off your back with a rag. His touch was surprisingly gentle now, a contrast to the rawness of the encounter.

"That was lovely, my lady," he said, pressing a kiss against the small of your back. "Are you alright?"

You turned, propping yourself up on your elbows, giving him a lazy smile. "Quite,"

"Good." He grinned, his eyes trailing over your form. "I shall fetch us some wine, and then we can continue our celebrations, if that suits you."

You laughed, nodding. "It certainly does."

"How much for you to stay all night?" he asked, reaching for his coin purse.

"No charge, my lord," you purred, leaning into his touch. "After all, you're the champion tonight."

He smiled, his gaze darkening with lust. "Indeed, I am.”

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[pepi1989]

Starstruck - Ben Shelton

The atmosphere backstage at the US Open was its own kind of chaotic. Between players rushing to their next match, coaches barking advice, and the constant hum of the crowds outside the stadiums, it was a whirlwind of noise and energy. Ben had just finished his warm-up and was headed toward the players’ lounge, his mind focused on his upcoming match. Or at least, it was, until he saw her.

She walked out from one of the practice courts, her tennis bag slung casually over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back, her face still flushed from whatever grueling training she’d just finished, but she carried herself with a confidence that immediately drew his attention. Ben froze mid-step, his gaze locking on her as she moved through the hallway, completely unaware of the effect she had on him.

His heart rate, which had already been high from practice, seemed to kick into overdrive. He felt like he’d just been hit with a serve straight to the chest. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t just her looks, although she was stunning, it was the way she seemed so effortlessly focused, so in her element. Like she belonged there in a way that made everyone else fade into the background.

She didn’t see him, though. Her eyes were set ahead, completely engrossed in her own world. As she walked past, her shoulder brushed his, and he swore electricity shot through him. His brain scrambled to come up with something, anything, to say, but the words died in his throat. Before he knew it, she was already halfway down the hall, her footsteps light and steady as if she hadn’t just flipped his entire world upside down.

Ben stood there, still staring, until a sharp elbow nudged him in the side.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” Taylor Fritz’s voice snapped him out of his daze, but Ben couldn’t pull his eyes away from where she’d disappeared around the corner.

“Who…who was that?” Ben finally managed to croak out, his voice hoarse, like he’d just run a marathon.

Taylor raised an eyebrow, glancing between Ben and the direction the girl had gone. “You mean her?” he said, a knowing smirk creeping across his face. “That’s Y/N, She’s been killing it in the women's draw. You seriously don’t know her?”

Ben shook his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Y/N. The name alone made his pulse quicken. He repeated it in his head like a mantra. He couldn’t believe he’d never noticed her before, and yet now it felt like he couldn’t stop.

Taylor chuckled, clapping Ben on the shoulder. “Good luck with that, man,” he said, his tone both amused and sympathetic. “She doesn’t pay attention to anyone. Too focused on tennis, from what I hear. She’s, like, all business,never dates, never even gives anyone a second glance. Pretty much married to her career.”

Ben’s heart sank a little, but there was a flicker of determination in his chest. The idea that she didn’t pay attention to anyone just made him more intrigued. Sure, she was focused, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have space for anything, or anyone, else, right?

Still, Taylor’s words echoed in his mind as he headed off to his match. Could he really stand out to someone like her?

Hours later, Ben was exhausted. His match had been a tough one, stretching into five sets, but he’d come out victorious. As he sat in the players’ lounge afterward, towel around his neck, mind drifting, he saw her again.

She was walking into the room after her match, her eyes downcast, focused on the floor as she made her way to grab a water bottle. He watched as she sighed, the kind of tired but satisfied look of someone who’d just left everything out on the court. There was something so grounded about her, despite the pressures of the tournament.

Ben’s heart raced again, but this time, he didn’t let the moment pass. He stood up, tossing his towel onto the chair, and made his way toward her, rehearsing what he would say over and over in his head.

As she turned to leave, he gently called out, “Hey, Y/N?”

She stopped, turning around slowly, her eyes locking with his. For a second, he thought she might just walk away, completely uninterested. But instead, she stayed, blinking at him, her expression a little wary but open.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice soft, almost shy.

Ben was momentarily thrown off. Taylor had said she didn’t pay attention to people, that she was all business. But now, face-to-face, she seemed almost…nervous.

“I-I saw your match,” Ben stammered, his nerves getting the best of him. “You played really well out there.”

Her cheeks flushed a bit, and she smiled, though she looked away quickly, like she wasn’t used to compliments. “Thanks,” she mumbled, shifting slightly on her feet. “You did too. I, uh, caught a bit of it.”

Ben’s heart soared. She watched? He swallowed his nerves, deciding now was the time. “I know you’re super focused on tennis and all,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “but I was wondering if maybe, uh, I could get your number? You know…for after the tournament or something. We could hang out, if you’d like.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, Ben was certain she’d turn him down. She looked even shyer now, her gaze dropping to the floor again as she considered his offer. He could feel his pulse in his ears, each second stretching on like forever.

Then, to his astonishment, she nodded, her voice almost a whisper. “Yeah… sure. I’d like that.”

Ben blinked, processing her words. She said yes? He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as she was typing in her number before handing his phone back to him.

“Thanks,” he said, a little breathless, feeling like he’d just won the biggest match of his life. “I’ll text you.”

She smiled again, this time a little more relaxed, a little more genuine, before turning to leave. And as she walked away, Ben couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this tournament was shaping up to be unforgettable in more ways than one.

[heeesxturn]

Princess Hoon Treatment

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Fem!reader! (baby sis) x enha!sunghoon!

The soft hum of cartoons played in the background, but neither you nor Sunghoon were paying attention to the screen. All your focus was on the little tornado of glitter and giggles bouncing on the carpet—your 4-year-old sister, Y/S/N.

“Sit, Hoonie! I make you bootiful!” she declared with the utmost authority, tugging Sunghoon down to the floor in front of her.

Sunghoon chuckled, already obeying. “Yes, ma’am. Make me beautiful, princess.”

You sat down beside them, resting your chin in your palm, heart full. Watching your boyfriend willingly subject himself to sparkly pink eyeshadow and lopsided pigtails was better than any movie.

Your sister clumsily brushed out his hair with her tiny toy comb. “Hoonie hairs soft,” she said, sticking her tongue out in concentration. “Like… like a fluffy doggie!”

Sunghoon laughed. “A fluffy doggie, huh? That’s the best compliment I’ve had all week.”

You reached out to boop his cheek. “You’re so good with her, baby.”

He leaned over to kiss your nose. “She’s my tiny best friend. I’d let her shave my eyebrows if she asked nicely.”

“Don’t tempt her,” you giggled, watching as she reached for a sparkly pink clip and stuck it right in the middle of his bangs.

“Ta-da!” she clapped. “Now you pwetty pwincess”

Sunghoon nodded solemnly. “I feel royal already.”

You leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You look royal too, my handsome prince-slash-princess.”

She wasn’t done though. “Time for nayyo!” she announced proudly, pulling out a glitter pink nail polish that had seen better days.

“Alright, alright,” Sunghoon held out his hands, letting her messily coat his nails in layers of sparkles. You could tell he was trying hard not to laugh as she blew on them with her tiny puffing breaths.

You took out your phone and snapped a photo. “You’re gonna make everyone jealous of your glam, babe.”

Sunghoon winked at you. “Only tryna impress my two favorite girls.”

She suddenly gasped. “I do make-ups!”

Sunghoon gave you a look of mock horror, but sat still. “Do your worst, sweetie.”

Using her kid-safe makeup palette, she smeared pink eyeshadow on his lids and drew lopsided hearts of different sizes on his cheeks with lip gloss. “Pwetty, pwetty, pwetty!” she chanted.

When she was finally satisfied, she plopped down with a grin. “Done! You look like… like a Barbie ken!”

You burst out laughing as Sunghoon scooped her up and peppered her cheeks with kisses. “Thank you, makeup artist. You’ve made me a masterpiece.”

You leaned into his side, wrapping an arm around him. “You’re the best boyfriend ever, you know that?”

He kissed your forehead, then your lips. “Only because I’ve got the best girlfriend ever.”

Mia wriggled between the two of you, hugging both your legs. “Group huggie!!”

The three of you collapsed into a cuddly mess on the carpet, hearts full, nails sparkly, and cheeks hurting from smiling.

[pankowcrumbs]

Campfire chaos X Rudy Pankow (one shot requested)

Summary: During a serious scene with everyone around a campfire, Chase is trying to deliver an intense monologue. But, as he speaks, his voice cracks, and it turns into an accidental squeak that causes the whole cast to crack up. Rudy, not missing a beat, starts imitating the squeak in the background, and soon everyone is in fits of laughter. The director gives up trying to finish the scene and calls for a break as everyone’s sides hurt from laughing.

MasterList

Outerbanks and Cast Masterlist

The night was crisp, the campfire crackling softly as its flames danced in the cool air. The scene was set perfectly: all of us gathered around the fire, the golden light flickering against our faces as the weight of the story reached a critical moment. Chase, sitting at the centre of the group, was gearing up for his big monologue—a heartfelt speech that was meant to leave both us and the audience in stunned silence.

We’d rehearsed it earlier in the day, and Chase had nailed it every time. But tonight, with cameras rolling and the whole cast leaning into their roles, something was... off.

As Chase began to speak, his tone low and gravelly, the rest of us exchanged glances, trying to stay in character. I sat next to Rudy, who was already fidgeting in a way that made me nervous. His fingers drummed lightly on his knee, and I could tell he was itching to do something—anything—to break the tension.

Then it happened.

Chase’s voice, solid and commanding just moments before, cracked halfway through a sentence. Not just a small crack, but a full-blown squeak that echoed across the set.

“...and if we don’t find the—squeak!—treasure, it’ll be the end of everything!”

For a split second, no one moved. We were professionals, after all. We could handle this.

But then Rudy, ever the instigator, snorted. Not a small, discreet sound, but an uncontrollable snort that turned into laughter. And that was it. The floodgates opened.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to keep it together, but the image of Chase’s intense expression crumbling into embarrassment was too much. Next to me, Rudy had completely lost it, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back against the log he was perched on.

“Did... did you hear that?” Rudy managed to choke out between laughs. “He sounded like a cartoon mouse!”

Chase, still sitting in the centre of the chaos, groaned loudly and dropped his head into his hands. “Oh, come on! I was in the zone!”

Rudy wasn’t done. He straightened up and cleared his throat dramatically, mimicking Chase’s serious tone. “If we don’t find the—squeak!—treasure...”

The rest of us exploded into laughter. Madelyn doubled over, clutching her stomach, while JD rolled off his log entirely, lying on the ground as tears streamed down his face. Even Drew, who was usually the most composed of us, was wiping at his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

I leaned against Rudy for support, my sides hurting from laughing so hard. “Stop,” I gasped, barely able to get the word out. “You’re going to kill us!”

But Rudy was on a roll now. He started improvising an entire scene, squeaking his way through an imaginary monologue as he paced around the campfire. “And then... squeak!... we’ll sail into the sunset and... squeak!... defeat the bad guys!”

Chase tried to glare at him but failed miserably, his lips twitching as he fought to keep a straight face. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his tone lacked any real venom.

The director finally stepped in, though even he was struggling to maintain some semblance of authority. “Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands. “Let’s take five. Clearly, no one is capable of being serious right now.”

We all dispersed, still giggling as we grabbed bottles of water or stretched out our aching muscles. Rudy stayed by the fire, still muttering “squeak!” under his breath and earning fresh rounds of laughter from anyone who heard him.

I wandered over to Chase, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed. His expression was a mix of frustration and amusement.

“Hey,” I said, nudging him lightly with my elbow. “You okay?”

He sighed, but a small smile broke through. “Yeah. It’s just... that was supposed to be my big moment, you know?”

I grinned. “Oh, it was big. Just not in the way you expected.”

Chase rolled his eyes but laughed anyway, the tension in his shoulders easing. “At least you’re honest.”

As we stood there, watching the rest of the cast recover from their fits of laughter, Rudy sauntered over, his trademark grin firmly in place.

“Chase,” he said, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “I just want to thank you for providing the single funniest moment of my entire life.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Chase replied dryly, though he couldn’t hide his grin.

Rudy turned to me then, his hazel eyes twinkling mischievously. “You were losing it too, don’t deny it.”

“I was trying to stay professional,” I said, though my laughter betrayed me.

“Sure you were,” Rudy teased. “You were this close to falling off the log like JD.”

The three of us stood there, the warmth of the fire brushing against our faces as the chaos around us finally started to settle. It was moments like this—completely unplanned, ridiculously funny—that reminded me how lucky I was to be part of this cast.

The director called us back to set, and we reluctantly returned to our places around the fire. Chase took his position again, this time with a mock-serious expression that had us all stifling giggles.

“Alright,” the director said, clapping his hands. “Let’s try this again. And Rudy—no squeaking.”

“I make no promises,” Rudy shot back, earning another round of laughter.

As the cameras rolled once more, I caught Rudy’s eye. He gave me a subtle wink, and I knew it wouldn’t take much for him to start up again. But somehow, despite the lingering threat of another voice crack, we managed to get through the scene.

Barely.

When the director finally called “Cut!” for the last time that night, the entire cast erupted into applause and cheers, partly out of relief and partly because we couldn’t believe we’d actually done it.

As we packed up for the evening, Rudy slung an arm around my shoulders. “You have to admit,” he said, grinning, “that was the most fun we’ve had on set in weeks.”

I laughed, leaning into him as we walked back to base camp. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he said, his grin widening. “But you love it.”

And honestly, I couldn’t argue with that.

[wisteriadumster]

Stress Reliever Theatre❥John Marston

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JOHN MARSTON X FEMALE READER

CW➻❥ public intimacy⋆private sex⋆fingering⋆consensual groping ⋆handjob⋆orgasm both m! & f!⋆extreme making out/kissing✮if I missed anything pls lmk!✮

WC➻❥2,233➻❥this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥You drag John Marston to a show in Saint Denis, to relieve his clear signs of stress. Surely nothing more than two people watching a show together right?

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───────

*✧･ﾟ:* WisteriaDumster original work.*:･ﾟ✧*

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───────

You’re not sure how you truly convinced John Masrton to go to Saint Denis, let alone the theater.

Yet here you are, sitting in the back row by John's request, waiting for everyone else to take their seats. His breathing was tight and heavy, large sighs leaving him often, “This show is sure to take the stress off your mind.” A hand slid onto his left shoulder, attempting a weak massage. Even in darkness you can see his blushing cheeks, “you’re too sweet on me, you know that?” His compliment forces a side smile on you,

“well you’re bad at hiding stress, I’m just helping out”.

All other whisper conversations stopped, you turned away from John and looked to the brightly lit stage. A man stepped onto the said stage, “good evening ladies and gentleman.” His red suit is extremely eye-catching, “tonight men and women of only myth will perform in front of your very eyes!” Your hand went back to your lap, the man cleared his throat. “I have sailed the seven seas to find these people only heard in the stories your children read!” Scattered laughter filled the silent crowd. A few more useless sentences and jokes were thrown into his little speech which were all the same just different words.

“I won’t keep any more of your time, please welcome the werewolf!” He bows before slipping through the curtains that matched his suit in colour.

You waited patiently before the curtains finally drew back, a thunderous drum roll made you jump. Suddenly a man with more hairs on his arm than your entire body jumped onto the stage, he let out a growl. You stared at him, not a single inch of him was hairless, well besides his face.

His beard is so long it could be made into a small towel, his hair was even longer, reaching down to his knees. John leaned close to your ear, “he reminds me of Arthur,” he jokes, making you giggle.

The Werewolf’s act was finally over, the curtains drew back, the crowd cheered over the various tricks he had done. “Are you still stressed? I hope this is helping,” You look to John, your hands gently clapping. “I mean I feel better but I could use something else.” His hand is now on your thigh, he’s nervous, it wasn’t surprising as John wasn’t much of a romantic to begin with. “What are you suggesting?” You know what he wants, but in public? You weren’t used to being intimate or even romantic in public. “We’re in the back, people came for the show, maybe we can be the next act.” His fingers begin pulling at your skirt, slowly having it scrunch up your thigh. The curtains opened again, but all your attention was on John.

Your skirt was now in your lap, his rough hand rubbing your thigh, his eyes staring at your lips, debating if he should kiss you.

Since he wouldn’t, you did. You moved in close and went for a gentle and slow kiss. He couldn’t wait, his hand leaving your thigh and going to your hair, he pulled you in close, dying for all of you he could get.

The show was merely background noise as you played with his hair, John pulling at your waist trying to get you as close as he could with the arm rests of the chair in the way.

You can't resist letting a small whimper out into John's mouth as his nails dig into your hip. "You like that?" He smirks against your lips as his hand travels down to thigh once again. This time it doesn't stay there but begins sliding up, slowly reaching to your panties.

His fingers tease with the fabric, caressing the stitching of your own work. "I like where this stress relief is going," you spoke with a gasp, eagerly impatient for his next move. He laughs before his hand finally begins to pull down your underwear, you're quick to help him.

His hand again teases you and slowly goes up your leg, you pull back from the kiss. "John Marston, when did you become such a teaser?" Your hand is playing with a button of his shirt, "when I began wondering if I should fuck you here or in the cleaning closet down the hall." His breath is hot against your ear, how did he know of the closet? Must’ve been when he was searching for a bathroom when you came to the theater. “Well while you think, can you let me be pleased before I stare at the half naked man on that stage,” your attention averts to the stage with John, only for a moment. He looks back to you and sticks two fingers in your mouth, “sure I can think about it,” his smirk is terrifying yet exhilarating.

He wraps his arm around your waist before slowly entering those two fingers. Your stomach tightens and you hold your breath as to not alert the actual enjoyers of the show. He kisses down your neck as his fingers begin to curl, every part of you was stiff as the pleasure felt impeccable.

A hand was gripping the arm rests, your knuckles were becoming light in color. His fingers are starting to gain momentum, making your game at being quiet, extremely difficult.

John notices and goes back to your face, "What if we take this to another level, make it fun." You nod to the request, his speed beginning to slow, "will I have to stay quiet?" You manage through the grit of your teeth, he thinks for a moment while his fingers slide out, "that closet is still open I'm sure." He's gentle,”let hope the walls are thick enough.” Now out of his seat standing in front of you as he helps redress you.

You were finally calm and collected, standing and pulling your skirt down. His arm wraps around your waist and guides you out into the hallway.

The hall is silent, not a sign of life. John is touching all over your body, you began to think that you might not make it to the closet.

His lips are kissing your neck, his hands groping at your ass and waist. He left you to find the closet, you peeked through into a small room of brooms and a counter. He pushed you inside and closed the door in a matter of seconds, "I can't wait." You could feel how hard he was, before turning the oil lamp on. The room was dim.

He was pushing you against the wall, his arms wrapped around you, keeping you trapped.

His nails dug into your skirt as your bodies grinded together, the intensity of his desire for you was the hottest thing you ever witnessed. His kisses were turning to bites, surely this wasn’t the John you knew, but you can’t complain because whoever this is, will be fucking you good.

His hands cup at the bottom of your ass and lifts you to the counter, "I need you so bad." His hands are already under your skirt again pulling your panties, this time pulling them off completely. He's leaning over you, aggressively kissing you, taking a moment to again wet his fingers.

He enters slow again, gradually increasing the speed, faster than when inside the actual theater. Your body almost thrusts for a moment at the sudden speed gain.

He knows what he's doing, curling his fingers at the right angle before uncurling and thrusting them back in. Whimpers and whines bounced around in the room, how did you ever manage to stay quiet in that theater? His free hand was down to the buttons of his jeans, his breath was husky and quick. He pulls from the kissing to focus on his hand, his chest rising faster than it could fall. Your body was aching as you were already climbing up to your climax, ready to give out just from his fingers alone.

You were so focused on the pleasure that everything was drowned out,yet that was short lived when his fingers left you without the delight of them. You opened your eyes and looked to him, his eyes pierced yours, he couldn't hide the smile curling at the side of his mouth.

You spit in a hand and wrapped it around his cock that you noticed just barely. A quiver left his lips suddenly at the touch.

You made sure to have every inch perfectly wet for easy entry, his head hung back.

His hand is clawing at the edge of the counter while you did quick bursts of speed. “Like that do you now?” It was exciting to see how just a simple hand job affected him so heavily.

A giggle leaves you as your hand lets go, "I'm gonna need you to do that again sometime." He laughs as well while readjusting himself, his focus back on you. His hands were tight on your thighs as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter.

He enters slow, you gasped at the sudden feeling of being less empty. He smirked, enjoying every way you reacted to him, almost as an ego boost.

You wrap your hands in his hair, leaving him to support you, his hands wrapped around your back almost like a hug. An intimate one definitely. His pace quickens, taking no time to move his hips as well for something more than just awkward thrusting.

Your kissing out moans, a hand was now at his back for stability. It was harder to hold on as you prepared for probably the best orgasm of your life. Your nails dug into his vest, every part of you was tight as he didn’t slow or change anything, he knew better than to ruin your growing orgasm.

You had pulled from the kisses and were moaning into the base of his neck. He wasn't much quieter, plenty of groans rumbled deep from his chest. He was struggling to hold back just as much as you, it wasn't a shocker that he couldn't last long. His pace was faster, less steady but more extreme. That's when it hit, he was loud and slowed, almost stopping. The feeling of being filled to the max was just what you needed to send you over the edge. Your head hung away from him as every nerve in your body gave out. Your moans echoed throughout the closet, surely loud enough to get the attention of anyone outside in the hallway.

After the wave of pleasure washed over, your head fell onto his chest, you were both panting heavily. "Jesus that was good," John's fingers are playing with your hair. "I didn't know you were so. Skilled," you laugh, completely blown away at the fact he just did that. “Really? I don’t look good in bed?” He’s sarcastic yet it doesn’t fully seem that way, “no absolutely not.”

"We should get out of here before that show ends and a maid comes." John pulls back to grab articles of clothing off the floor. “We should do this again, some time soon.” You bite your bottom lip imagining what he could do without a time crunch. “I’ll be sure to stress myself out, just for you,” He looks up at you as he begins to slide your underwear up your legs.

He kisses up your legs and he finishes dressing you, his kisses continue, going up to your lips.

Those aggressive kisses from earlier are more: calm, simple, romantic rather than hungry, lustful, intense.

He pulls you down the counter and sets you gently on the floor, “take the lead,” he allows you to exit first, his hand smacking at an ass cheek as you push through the door. The hallway is significantly colder, the closest was almost like you had a fire set loose in it.

A man is staring at you both as you begin walking towards the exit, you turn to see John holding back a laugh. “Good day sir,” you smile before bursting into laughter, John right behind you with a loud belly laugh.

He pulled you onto his horse, “if Dutch asks let say we were trying to hunt,” he suggests getting on the horse as well. “John Marston, he would never believe a lie like that, let’s say we were simply doing a bounty.” You shake your head at the thought, “we were trying to secure a train robbery or just a job for the gang but failed.”

“Oh that’s a good one,” John begins down the street, “must be good to have some brains with you for once huh?” You wrap your hands around his waist and snuggle in close, “you want to walk back to camp?” He has a deep rumble for a laugh in his chest, shaking his head at your remark. “What kind of man are you Marston?” You observe the city and the life that passes you, “I’m a man that could go for round two on the outskirts of the city.” The horse goes from a trot to a canter. “Oh really?” You bit your lip at the thought, “I think I want to get over the lecture from Dutch for simply not following one of his plans.” And just like that you were crossing onto the bridge that led to the city.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───────

[blue2jay]

The Unfair Gift

🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

Summary:Your family gives your sibling an expensive, thoughtful gift but tosses you something impersonal. Leon surprises you with something meaningful, making it clear you deserve nothing but the best.

🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

The living room buzzed with excitement as gifts were exchanged, your family gathered for yet another event where favoritism reigned supreme. Your sister Melissa, as always, was the star of the show, beaming as she unwrapped a sleek designer handbag your parents had clearly spent a fortune on.

“Oh my gosh, Mom! Dad! This is perfect,” Melissa gushed, holding the bag up like a trophy. “You really outdid yourselves.”

Your mother smiled proudly. “Only the best for you, sweetheart.”

You sat quietly, trying not to feel invisible, as your father handed you a gift bag—a cheap, generic thing with wrinkled tissue paper spilling out. You already knew what was coming.

Inside was a plain mug with “Live, Laugh, Love” printed on the side.

“Isn’t that cute?” your mother chirped. “I saw it last minute and thought of you.”

You forced a small nod, your heart sinking as Melissa smirked from across the room. “Well, at least it’s practical, right?”

Before you could respond, Leon—who had been sitting quietly beside you—shifted, clearing his throat. The calm but deliberate movement drew everyone’s attention, and he reached into his jacket pocket with a faint smirk.

“Actually, I’ve got something for you too,” Leon said, standing and tossing you a small box.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Leon, you didn’t have to—”

“Open it,” he said simply, a playful glint in his blue eyes.

The room stilled as you lifted the lid, revealing a sleek set of car keys. Your breath caught. “Wait… what?”

Leon grinned, enjoying the moment. “Come outside and see.”

Your heart raced as Leon guided you to the front door, the rest of your family trailing behind, their curiosity humming in the air. Parked in the driveway was a brand-new car—a gorgeous, gleaming vehicle with a big red bow on top.

Your jaw dropped. “Leon… you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Leon replied, his voice laced with pride as he turned to face you. “You deserve the best, and I figured it was about time you had something as amazing as you are.”

Melissa let out a disbelieving laugh, her voice shrill. “A car? Seriously? That’s insane!”

Leon turned to her with an easy shrug, his smirk unwavering. “I don’t think small when it comes to Y/N. She deserves something special.”

Your mother stammered, clearly trying to process what was happening. “Leon, this is… extravagant. Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

Leon slipped an arm around your waist, his voice light but edged with finality. “Not at all. Y/N works harder than anyone I know, and she deserves to feel appreciated. It’s that simple.”

Melissa’s face twisted with jealousy as she muttered, “David could’ve done something like this if we needed a car…”

Your grandmother’s voice rang out, sharp as ever. “Oh, please, Melissa. David can barely decide between tulips and roses without asking for advice. Leon here knows how to treat Y/N properly—and with style.”

Your grandfather let out a deep laugh, stepping forward to clap Leon on the shoulder. “Now that’s how you take care of someone you love. Well done, Leon.”

Leon gave a respectful nod. “Thank you, sir.”

You couldn’t help but grin, warmth flooding your chest as you turned to Leon. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Leon looked at you with that familiar mix of affection and pride, his gaze softening as he cupped your cheek. “You don’t need to say anything,” he murmured.

Before you could respond, Leon leaned in and kissed you—slow and full of warmth, as if the rest of the world had faded away. The cheers and teasing whistles from your grandmother and grandfather in the background barely registered as Leon pulled you closer, his arm around your waist.

Melissa made a noise of disgust from somewhere behind you, but your grandmother shut her down instantly. “Oh, hush, Melissa. That’s what real love looks like. Maybe you should take notes.”

When Leon finally pulled back, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed, but your smile was unstoppable. “You’re amazing,” you whispered.

Leon grinned, his thumb brushing gently along your jaw. “Not as amazing as you.”

Your grandmother beamed, patting Leon’s arm approvingly. “You’ve got style, young man. Keep spoiling her. She deserves every bit of it.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am—I plan to,” Leon said with a wink, his hand still holding yours.

As you slid into the driver’s seat to admire your new car, Melissa and your mother retreated back inside, their earlier smugness thoroughly wiped away. You looked at Leon through the window, your heart full.

With a smile that said it all, you knew—no one else’s opinions mattered. Leon made sure you knew your worth, and he reminded everyone else of it, too.

[writingsofwesteros]

the new episode has royally pissed me off so I've come to escape into the lovely au, and so, here's the twins' first steps-

"All I'm saying is that we can totally buy an island," Aegon shrugged as bestie rolled her eyes. "Aeg, you can't just buy an island," Bestie insisted. It was a Saturday- Aemond was home from work, and bestie and Hel made everyone pancakes for breakfast. They were all having a home day and tomorrow as Sunday lunch at Dragonstone. "Aem, can't we buy an island?" Aegon looked at him, and Hel and Daella giggled as Aemond looked seriously contemplative. "I suppose. Mother kinda went crazy that year Nora tried to leave and move to Lys, and almost bought an island on her anxiety induced shopping spree, so." Aemond shifted Jaehaerys who was about to climb in Rhaegal's dog bed. Bestie shook her head, as Aegon said, "Y'see? Anyway, I'm just saying- Sunfyre!" Aegon groaned as Sunfyre tottered off with his sock. Jaehaera giggled on Aegon's lap, and said, "Sock- Sunfwyre sock!"

"Sock!" Jaehaerys repeated after her, as the twins warmed everyone's hearts again. "Anyway, you still haven't said if you're gonna take the call from your dad." Nora said seriously. "Oh, I ran that background check you wanted," Aemond handed Aegon a file from his briefcase on the table. "You had background check ran on my father?" Bestie asked. Aemond shrugged, and Aeg said, "You said he's a bad guy, babe. Gotta keep you safe and sound." "If he's as bad as you say, then maybe it's safer to keep a distance," Hel suggested gently as the twins crawled around. "I guess- I dunno," Bestie sighed. "If only there was a sign- these things are so tricky," Daella said softly. "A sign that I should just leave it all behind, forget about him and the shit he did, I-" Bestie paused. "Sock," Hera said, as she pushed herself off the ground for the first time, and everyone gasped. "Oh my gods!" Nora gasped.

"That's my girl!" Aegon shouted, clapping as he picked her up.

Sunfyre's little squeak drew their attention, as they saw Jae attempting to follow his twin, and pick up Sunfyre too. "Come on buddy," Aemond encouraged. "That's it, son, you got this," Jaehaerys stood fully, and took a few steps before Helaena caught him, and everyone cheered. The twins squealed and babbled under the attention, as everyone peppered them with kisses as Sunfyre ran around them, poor pup catching the zoomies from everyone's joy.

ADORE THIS! You made everyone's day with this snippet ;)

Aegon will buy this island one of these days thats for sure.

I love how Jae is just following his sister

[hiro-doodlez]

MORE INK WEEEEE HEAHSNSNSN hes so moldable he has every hair style ever because hair is fun MUAHHAHAHAA

Anyways i color picked this from a sunset image i found on google, also messing with brushes n stuff because WHY THE HECK NOT

Also heres the background under the cut because HOLY SHIT I DREW A BACKGROUND everyone clap everyone cheer /j

[normystical]

basically what the overarching idea is steve cobs is condescendingly congratulating mephone4 for the show

Ok so heres what I'm picturing:

Steve Cobs is singing the lyrics when he is on screen

"And now, without further ado, I give you Mr Andrew Sotry!" (This is just introducing steve, probably on a tv screen similar to the future is so yesterday)

"There's lots of pretty people here sharing sotries (and yes it is sotries in the song. irrelevant but anyways) and passing letters and" Just different shots of the contestants interacting at the party before shit hits the fan (and probably some other places too idk)

"there's lots of questions answered and metaphysical astronomical songs" Steve cobs at the conference thing like in the future is so yesterday when he was "answering" questions

"Which printed all on papers" The pieces of paper that mephone drew the contestants on

"that seem to mystical, it's so magical" Steve cobs talking to knife and suitcase in his office, referencing to how he was describing the wild and outlandish and "childish" nature of the show they partake in

"People that dance and compute" the contestants, depicted as puppets on strings

"That no-one's better than you" The lyrics appear on screen, with a flashing arrow sign pointing to mephone4, with cartoony beams of light coming from him. just really flashy intentionally doing too much condescendingly, if that makes sense

"There's kings in distant cities who rule their persons and keep them happy and" Steve cobs is standing in front and to the side of a background of mephone4 being depicted as giant and towering over all his contestants, who are just doing stuff unaware and happy

"We won't forget about all the servisory congratulatory" Shows the decommissioned mephones

"Even the animals know that something's brewing and they're all cooing" taco pacing around in the forest (cause she's looked down upon by the other people and she wanted everyone to leave the show because it caused suffering)

"'Cause in the end, i'd like to say so-one's better than you" mephone4 standing with a bunch of trophies and medals. again just really driving the point in

"I hope you're happy now I've revealed the truth" Knife and Suitcase looking shocked (just after the big reveal that mephone made them)

"I've even written this whole song about you, and not about me" Mephone4 in the closet, on the phone with Steve Cobs

"And not about me..." Cobs standing and singing, glaring and looking off to the side

"Please don't just laugh and clap right now, this is serious, I'm not delirious" Steve cobs singing on a computer screen, in the same/similar room as in where he was at the start of the future is so yesterday

"I've waited very patiently just to let you know who should run the show" Either steve cobs kneeling down to mephone just after everything disappeared or him sitting menacingly in his office

Cause we all know these are the facts, nothing to retract, nothing too abstact" Standing and singing

"Concluding in the song I'll say no-one's better than you

No-one's better than you

No-one's better than you" The bomb ticking down and going off

WHEW THAT TOOK A WHILE TO WRITE

do you like it? If it even makes sense.....

yeah!! i dont have anything to say tbh,, but its neat :]]

[winxanity-ii]

PRETTY

ship: bakugo x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 3.6k a/n: ignore me y'all, i'm going through my old prompts i made when i was 12, so if it's all fluffy mushy, and dont make sense, thats why lolollo.

★·.·´🇲‌🇾‌ 🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇴‌ 🇦‌🇨‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇲‌🇮‌🇦‌/🇧‌🇳‌🇭‌🇦‌/🇲‌🇭‌🇦‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You stood at the podium, the final words of your valedictorian speech echoing across the vast gymnasium, the packed audience before you nothing but a blur of faces.

The pride that had always been present in your voice remained steady, carrying each syllable with practiced precision. Yet, under the surface, exhaustion weighed you down.

Your shoulders felt tense beneath your graduation gown, and even though you wore a smile, your teeth were clenched.

You had done it—the valedictorian of your class, head coordinator of the school's event committee. The one who never seemed to stumble, who never had a moment of weakness. A shining example of high school success, a product of late nights and a will that refused to bend.

But behind that façade, you were falling apart.

"...and to my classmates, I wish you all success and fulfillment. Congratulations, Class of 2024!" you concluded, and your smile remained plastered, your hands feeling clammy as polite applause rang out.

You stepped back from the microphone as the principal approached with a nod and an encouraging clap on your shoulder. They gestured for you to move offstage. The bright lights overhead faded into the background, and the heavy red curtain drew a wall between you and everyone else.

Out of the spotlight, you allowed the mask to slip—just for a second.

No one was paying attention to you anymore. They were too caught up in celebrating the moment, applauding themselves, their friends, the ceremonial pomp of it all. Not like you had anyone out there who'd be focusing on you, anyway.

Since freshman year, you'd earned the reputation of being the "smart, cold loner kid." It wasn't completely unearned—you always stayed on top of your work, prioritizing your academics above all else.

You never pressured anyone to be like you, but you also didn't go out of your way to make connections. You had a small group of friends, but you never talked to many people outside of that circle.

When you eventually fell out with those few friends—mainly because they felt academically inferior to you—it wasn't hard for the label to stick. You didn't feel like disrupting it; you didn't want to force anything. And so, the persona of the "cold loner" settled in, unchallenged.

Your hands were trembling. It started as a small twitch, but now your fingers wouldn't keep still, and they gave way to shaking, unsteady motions.

You couldn't help the wry thought that flashed through your mind. Mom's spaghetti, huh?

You sucked in a shaky breath. Not now.

You turned your body slightly, pressing yourself back against the wall behind the curtain, trying to ground yourself away from prying eyes. Your breaths were coming in too quickly, your heart hammering away inside your chest, erratic and heavy.

You needed to get a handle on this—no one could see you like this, especially not now.

This wasn't part of the plan.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply through your nose.

Another deep breath, then another.

You tried to hum under your breath, an upbeat tune you made up on the spot, to drown out the awful thudding of your heart. The rhythm of the song helped—a shaky melody to fill your senses. It wasn't much, but it was something.

When was the last time I told you how (pretty you, pretty you are)

You dug your nails into your palms, pressing down in time with the humming. The small sting of pain cut through the fog in your head, enough to make you focus.

But even with your eyes squeezed shut, you failed to notice the one pair of eyes that had stayed on you—sharp, unwavering, concerned.

Minutes passed—they felt like hours—but eventually, you managed to slow your breathing.

You opened your eyes and forced that polite, practiced smile back on. You could feel the remnants of exhaustion clinging to you, but at least you weren't shaking anymore.

Good enough. You had to keep moving.

You stepped out from behind the curtain, letting the crowd's noise wash over you again, though it felt muffled, distant.

Everything around you seemed unreal—the flashes of cameras, the muffled cheers, the proud tears in parents' eyes. You moved on autopilot, your body mechanical as you walked, your head nodding politely at people congratulating you, though their words barely registered.

For now, you just kept walking, your diploma in your hands, face blank. You had done it. You were supposed to feel proud, fulfilled, happy even.

But all you felt was emptiness.

The line for the diplomas was divided by last names: A-J, K-R, S-Z. You found yourself at the front since you were on stage earlier, the first in line for your group.

You knew how chaotic things were about to get—students pushing, parents crowding in to snap pictures, the general mess of it all—so you tried to take control of at least the line you were in.

You turned around, your voice firm but not unkind as you called for everyone to stay in line. "Hey, everyone, let's try to keep it organized. It'll be faster if we all stay in line and don't bunch up," you reasoned, projecting your voice over the growing crowd. Some students looked annoyed, but a few nodded, understanding the logic.

"Yeah, makes sense," someone muttered, and the line began to straighten out. To your surprise, they listened, at least for a while.

For a few moments, there was some semblance of order, and you felt a tiny bit of relief. "Thanks, guys," you said, offering a polite nod, the tension in your shoulders easing just a fraction.

Then she bumped into you. Hard.

You turned, your gaze locking onto the girl who had once been your friend—Emily. Her eyes glinted with something that wasn't quite hate, but it was close. She sneered, her lips curling upward in a way that made your stomach churn.

"Still trying to be everyone's hero, huh?" she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

You clenched your jaw, exhaustion and stress bubbling up, the noise of students and parents swirling around you, the pressure pressing in on all sides. You tried to swallow it down, tried to let it go, but the overstimulation—the chaos, her voice, the day—was too much.

You didn't respond right away, your teeth grinding as you tried to stay calm. But the sneer on her face, the way she looked at you like you were nothing, like all your effort meant nothing—it pushed you over the edge.

"Maybe if you actually put in the effort, you wouldn't need someone else to keep you in line," you finally snapped, your voice low but laced with venom, your eyes narrowing. Her eyes widened, her sneer faltering for just a second, and you pressed on, unable to stop yourself. "But I guess it's easier to stand around and complain, right? Must be nice not having to try."

For a second, it looked like she might say something—her mouth opened, her cheeks flushed red. The tension between you hung heavy, the noise around you fading into the background.

You almost felt bad, almost wanted to take it back, but then she scoffed, and the glare returned. You turned away before she could say anything else, before the temptation to argue further could take hold.

You heard her scoff again, felt her glare on your back, but you didn't care. You had bigger things to deal with than her petty jabs.

You stormed away, your footsteps echoing in the hallway as you left the chaos behind. Your hands were trembling again, your heart pounding, but you kept your head high, refusing to let anyone else see just how close you were to breaking.

The stage was empty now, everyone else having moved out towards the parking lot for pictures and gifts.

You found yourself gravitating towards it, the familiarity of the space comforting in a way you couldn't quite explain. The lights were dim, the curtains drawn back, and for the first time since the ceremony began, you were truly alone.

Your composure shattered.

Tears welled up, spilling over as you pressed your hands to your face, your shoulders shaking.

You tried humming that tune again, the one that had calmed you earlier, but it felt hollow now, the melody lost in the storm of emotions crashing over you.

Your hands itched for your headphones—you had almost grabbed them earlier during your panic attack, but you hadn't wanted to draw attention.

Now, you wished you had them—something to drown out the noise in your head. Instead, you cupped your hands over your ears, trying to muffle the world around you.

It wasn't working.

You hummed louder, your voice breaking as you rocked back and forth. The tears wouldn't stop, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. "I'm okay," you whispered, your voice cracking. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay." The words were supposed to make you feel stronger, supposed to convince yourself that you could get through this. But right now, they felt empty, a fragile shield against the overwhelming weight of it all.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a scent—familiar, comforting.

You froze, your humming faltering as the smell surrounded you, warm and grounding.

Slowly, cautiously, a pair of hands covered yours, warm palms pressing gently against your skin. The touch was light, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted, but you didn't.

You took a shaky breath, the scent filling your senses, and you muttered his name. "Bakugo?"

You opened your eyes, blinking away the tears, and there he was; Bakugo Katsuki, standing in front of you, his lips quirking up into a small smirk.

It wasn't his usual cocky grin—there was something softer there, something almost gentle. His eyes, though still intense, held none of their usual edge.

For a moment, you just stared, your heart stuttering in your chest. Your crush—the one person you thought would never even notice you—was here, smiling at you, and for a second, it felt like the world had stopped.

He looked so good, the light catching in his golden hair, his eyes locked on yours, and you couldn't help the way your thoughts spun out of control. He's here. He's really here. He smells so good and—

Your brows furrowed as you realized he was speaking, his lips moving, but the words weren't registering. You blinked, your gaze dropping to his lips, trying to catch up. "Is he...?" you mumbled, still dazed.

Slowly, you dropped your hands, his following, allowing his voice to finally break through, the words matching the melody you had been humming.

"—when I first met you, I told you how pretty you... pretty you are."

The words were soft, almost a whisper, and you caught the tail end of the lyrics, your mind struggling to catch up.

For a moment, you were confused, the words echoing in your head until realization struck—you knew those lyrics.

You blinked up at Bakugo, his lips still moving to the quiet melody of your song.

The rough edges of his voice surprised you. It wasn't perfect—not in the way singers on the radio sounded—but it was real. Raw. The same notes you had hummed to yourself for years, whenever the pressure became too much to bear.

How long had he been listening? The thought made your breath catch in your throat. You were so used to thinking no one noticed you. That you were just... there. Even when you tried to stand out, it felt like people saw the success, not the person behind it.

But Bakugo—he saw you.

He must've heard you humming during those endless study sessions, maybe even in the hallways between classes. All those times you thought you were alone in your anxiety, he had been there, taking in every detail.

And now, he was standing in front of you, singing the one thing that had always grounded you.

The realization hit like a wave, crashing over the walls you'd built around yourself for so long.

He noticed. He had always noticed.

Even when you thought you were invisible to him—to everyone—he had been watching, quietly, in the background.

Your breath caught, your eyes widening as you looked at him; you really looked at him. He wasn't mocking you; he wasn't teasing. He was grounding you, just like you had tried to ground yourself.

You could hardly believe it. All this time, you thought you were the one who kept your distance, but maybe... maybe you weren't the only one afraid of being vulnerable.

Your thoughts drifted, pulling you back to the first time you had met him. It had been during your freshmen year when you transferred into the school.

Everyone else had known each other since their younger years, so they all knew Katsuki, but to you, he had been just another face in a sea of unfamiliar people.

🇫‌🇱‌🇦‌🇸‌🇭‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌:

It was a free day since the teacher was sick and the substitute was late, and most of the class was empty—only a few students, including Katsuki and his friends, were there, goofing off to pass the time.

You had been sitting at your desk, nose buried in a book with your headphones on, the music drowning out the noise around you. You didn't pay much attention to their conversation until the room erupted in laughter and teasing.

One of Katsuki's friends had asked him who he thought was the prettiest girl in their year. At first, he had refused to answer, calling it a stupid and shallow question.

"Come on, Bakugo! You gotta have someone in mind!" one of them had insisted, nudging him with a smirk.

"Yeah, Katsuki! Quit being such a hardass and just tell us," another had added, the teasing relentless.

Katsuki's jaw clenched, clearly annoyed, but after a moment, he let out an irritated sigh. "If you must know..." he grumbled, his eyes doing a lazy sweep of the room before settling on you for just a second.

You hadn't noticed, too caught up in your reading, but the sudden whooping and hollering from the boys had made you look up, startled and confused.

"He said you're pretty!" one of them had called out, his voice loud and teasing, drawing even more attention to you.

Your gaze had dropped to the floor, your face heating up in embarrassment. You could feel all their eyes on you; the attention almost unbearable. "Ah... thank you," you had murmured, your voice barely audible as you gave a shy smile, peeking up through your lashes.

It was the first smile they had seen from you, and it had stunned the entire group into silence; their breaths caught at the sight of it. Even Katsuki had been caught off guard, his eyes widening before a faint pink flush dusted his cheeks.

"Whoa, did she just smile?" one of them had whispered, his voice full of awe. "Dude, I think I just died a little bit."

Katsuki had quickly looked away, scowling to hide his embarrassment. "Not a big deal," he had muttered, his tone gruff, his eyes narrowing as his friends continued to cackle. "Not like I said I was in love with her, you idiots."

"But you think she's pretty, huh?" another one of his friends had teased, nudging him with an elbow.

"Shut up!" Katsuki had snapped, his face flushing even darker. His irritation only made his friends laugh harder, their voices echoing through the nearly empty classroom.

You had been unsure how to react, your fingers trembling slightly as you clutched your book tighter. You hadn't expected the attention, hadn't expected to be singled out by someone like Bakugo Katsuki.

First the teacher was late, then the substitute, and now this—a guy who was not only easy on the eyes but apparently an athlete, someone people looked up to, found you attractive? It was overwhelming, and heat flooded your face as you ducked your head, staring at the floor.

You didn't want to leave his compliment unacknowledged. Mustering whatever courage you had, you spoke up, your voice still quiet. "Thank you," you repeated, a little firmer this time, your eyes flicking up to meet his for just a second before darting away again.

Katsuki had grumbled something under his breath, his friends still teasing him, but that moment had stuck with you.

The first real connection you had made, even if it was small, even if it wasn't much. It had been enough to replay in your mind, over and over again, a memory that lingered with a warmth that surprised you.

Now, standing in front of him, his hands covering yours, that memory felt like a lifetime ago.

The warmth of his palms grounded you, his presence breaking through the haze in your mind. He watched you, his eyes searching yours, waiting for something—permission, maybe, or reassurance.

You weren't sure.

He took a deep breath, his gaze never wavering. "Look... I'm not expecting anything from you," he said, his voice gruff, almost defensive. "I just... I needed you to know. I don't want you thinking no one cares. Because I do."

Your heart skipped a beat, the sincerity in his words hitting you harder than you expected.

He wasn't asking for anything, wasn't putting pressure on you. He just wanted you to know.

It was simple, and yet it meant everything in that moment.

His hands dropped from yours, and he looked to the side, his usual scowl softening as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Your breath caught, your eyes widening in surprise as he pulled away, his face flushed, a deep red spreading across his cheeks. He let out a small, irritated huff, as if annoyed by his own vulnerability, but he didn't pull back completely.

Instead, his thumb brushed softly over the apple of your cheek, his gaze momentarily shifting away before snapping back to meet yours. He straightened up, his hands falling to his sides, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Then, with a reluctant sigh, he gave you one last look—a mix of frustration, hope, and something softer—before turning on his heel and walking away, his steps slow, almost hesitant.

You watched him go, your heart feeling lighter, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

For the first time, the emptiness that had weighed you down all day seemed to lift, replaced by something new.

Something that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you weren't as alone as you had thought.

A/N:  AHH, i need a bakugo in my life 😔💔

~𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚~

From the sea of graduating seniors, Bakugo stood at the back of the room, eyes narrowed as he watched you retreat behind the curtains.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen you crack under pressure, but today—your graduation day, of all days—something in you seemed different. Worse.

He gritted his teeth, fighting against the urge to step forward. The logical part of his mind told him to stay back, that it wasn't his business.

You were tough. You always had been. The "cold, untouchable" reputation didn't come from nowhere, after all. But lately... he could see it. Those small moments when your shoulders slumped, or when your eyes lost focus, staring somewhere far away.

It pissed him off more than anything. Not you, but the way no one else seemed to notice the cracks.

No one else was paying attention.

He had wanted to say something so many times, but every moment he almost did, his damn pride got in the way.

What the hell would he even say? He wasn't good at this kind of thing—comforting people, talking about feelings.

But watching you now, shaking behind the stage, he clenched his fists hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.

You disappeared from the stage, moving towards the backrooms where you'd pick up your official records and diploma, and Bakugo let out a sharp exhale. He took a step forward, then stopped, clenching his jaw again.

She's gonna fall apart if nobody does something, he thought, his heart thudding in his chest. And no matter how much he hated the idea of stepping out of his comfort zone, of saying something soft and risking looking like an idiot... he hated the idea of watching you break even more. 

The mask you wore—the one you thought no one could see through—shattered right in front of him.

Bakugo had watched you hold it together for years, watched you become the best without faltering. But today, as you stood on the stage, trembling from exhaustion, he realized how close you were to breaking.

How much you had been hiding.

He couldn't just stand back and watch anymore. It wasn't like him to ignore a problem, especially one staring him dead in the face. But this—being there for you, really being there—that was new territory. He wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to say or do, but seeing you about to crumble was enough to push him forward.

For once, it wasn't about pride.

It wasn't about looking tough or saving face.

It was about you—just you—and that was enough.

[lighthouseas]

Wedding hcs (mostly just cake smashing bc it’s funny)

Ash and Serena both kind of mutually agreed they weren’t going to smash cake in each others’ faces...mostly Ash agreeing not to do this to Serena because she didn’t want to get dirty.  Ash also didn’t want to get cake on his face, but that’s too bad because of course Gary was there and all Ash heard was “I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life, Ashy-boy” before he finds his face smashed into cake.  Serena laughs her ass off in the background before Bonnie decides to fully carry out the tradition :)

I don’t even think this needs a headcanon because May would 1000% smash cake into Drew’s face even after he told her numerous times NOT to do so.  He kind of expected it though and was just like “oh well”

And you can bet your ass Harley didn’t waste any time doing the same to May lolol

Dawn and Paul’s wedding was small, and the two silently agreed not to smash cake into each other’s faces.  They weren’t those types of people (ESPECIALLY Paul).  Reggie was having NONE of that, and when Paul wasn’t looking, smashed his face straight into the cake.  Paul was about to throw hands with Reggie lmaooo before he saw Dawn laughing at him, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he did the same to Dawn.  Dawn was kind of silent for a moment as she realized what had just happened. She just looked over at Paul incredulously with a look of “you did not just do that”.  And for the first time in like all the time she had known him, he started genuinely laughing (Dawn thought it was adorable).  Everyone at the wedding was in pure shock lmao they had fun (except when Dawn retells the story to literally everyone and Paul has to sit there awkwardly in the background)

Leaf smashes Gary’s face into the cake and he’s PISSED about it.  He’s sure to get her back later lol Ash probably recorded it and saved it

“Rudy, I swear to Arceus-” -Misty’s last words before she’s blinded by cake.  At that point Coral was nearly a year old and kind of babbled and clapped in the background so it ended up being cute after all

Cilan wasn’t planning on smashing cake into Burgundy’s face, rather, Burgundy took it upon herself to smash cake into Cilan’s face.  Iris thought it was hilarious and took tons of pictures while Cilan just stared at Burgundy before returning the “favor” lol

Oh boy.  Lillie and Hau’s wedding. Lillie, under NO circumstance, wanted to have cake on her face.  Hau knew that. So what did he do? Smash her face into the cake.  Lol.  Lillie was so furious at him she ended up throwing cake at him, resulting in a full-blown cake war.  Mallow was pouting in the background because her cake was getting thrown, she ended up joining in though haha

Mallow 100% had Lana record her shoving Kiawe’s face into the cake and he always tells her to delete the video.  She never does.

That’s all I’ve got for now...I just like the cake smashing tradition ok?? T-T

[ink-flavored]

“Have you met me? I’m Pride. Being full of myself is the point.”

CHARACTER INTRO: PRIDE & JUSTICE

Name: Pride, Root of All Sin

Pronouns: he/him

Being: Demon

[character playlist]

Art by @auroblaze​, stock photos from Unsplash and Pexels

Background:

A forgotten soul wept alone in Purgatory.

No tears stained their distraught face. They had no body to shed them—just an approximation of the body they once had, a shimmering gray shadow of a form. They were less than a memory, and every echoed sob played back in their ears to remind them of it.

No one from their life would be alive to remember them. Everyone was where they belonged, except they never got to follow. They never reached a resting place, neither gate nor pit awaited them at the end. Just an endless plane of twisting gray forests, curling mists, and other lost souls, just as distraught. Being stuck for centuries sapped most of their hopes of ever getting out. Comfort was beyond any of them.

So the forgotten soul did the only thing they could do, and grieved. Alone on a stump in the middle of a sea of woodland, they sobbed into their hands over what could have been. Few other souls wandered near. Those that noticed didn’t slow down. It was fine. The forgotten soul preferred it that way. They’d rather cry alone than be offered half-hearted words of encouragement they both knew were lies.

With a shuddered gasp, they lifted their head to wipe their unstained cheeks. The instinct from the faint memory of life compelled them more than the logic of this place, as it was all they had left. The dark trees loomed overhead, tightly packed, dense with leaves and shadow. Staring into the dark, the soul hiccupped to silence.

Two glowing red eyes stared back.

They froze, choked by fear. They’d been spotted by someone—something—so what more could they do? What was it? Did creatures hunt through the forests of Purgatory? Was it possible to die twice?

The eyes bobbed closer. Leaves rustled like an ocean wave, building to a crackling crescendo. Heavy steps thudded like war drums. Dark black smoke, heavier than the thin mists of Purgatory, spilled out from between the trees. As it drew nearer and nearer, the soul realized it was much bigger than it first looked. The two eyes rose taller and taller and—more eyes blinked open. Three, six, seven?

Shakily, the soul stood from its stump. The thing got closer, the smoke poured faster and thicker, creeping across the ground toward them. They tried to run, but a hand clapped over their shoulder. It clamped tighter the more they tried to fight it off—

“Hey, take it easy, will you?”

The hand released and the soul tripped into the dirt. They scrambled around to stand up, preparing to run or fight or do something, but found themselves stuck doing nothing. In place of a monster or beast there was a person. Or something that looked very much like one.

He stood unnaturally solid against the hazy landscape of Purgatory—evidence of a soul preserved and powerful. A sandy complexion contrasted starkly against his dark clothes, rough and torn at the edges. His hair was half-pulled against his scalp, a deep black, but held a few inches of honey-blonde at the roots like a bad disguise. A scruffy goatee perched below his unimpressed frown.

“Last time I ever try to introduce myself,” he muttered, boots kicking up dust. He plopped down on the abandoned stump and stretched out like he’d been sitting there all along. “Seriously, what does a guy have to do to get respect around here?”

The forgotten soul watched him warily, standing perfectly still. He could have been human, if it weren’t for the curved horns breaching the front of his scalp, bone-white and coughing smoke. A thin whip-like tail with a curved barb draped over the stump to twitch at his feet. It wasn’t hard to deduce what kind of creature he was.

“You gonna say something?” he asked, and the soul caught their non-existent breath. “I know I’m easy on the eyes, but I usually like to know your name first.”

“I don’t remember it,” the soul replied. A pang of grief threatened to bring their false tears back.

The irritation on his face melted away into a soft sympathy. “Damn. Already forgot, huh?” He gestured with a hand. “Come on, sit down with me.”

They didn’t move. “You’re a demon. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He grinned with too-sharp teeth. “And?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Pfft. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already.”

If that beast and this demon were the same creature, the soul had no trouble believing that. What could harming a soul in Purgatory be worth to a demon who had thousands of souls to torture back in Hell? But what would a demon be doing in Purgatory anyway?

“Trust me or not,” the demon said, “I’m not going anywhere. So feel free to leave if you want to stay alone and miserable.”

The soul pursed their lips, temper piqued. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Oh, nobody does. Who would? I’m a forgettable piece of existence, just like you.”

“We’re nothing alike.”

He tilted his head. “No? Then what are you doing in Purgatory?”

“I—!” They swallowed the lump in their non-existent throat. “I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t. You’ve been promised eternal rest, and the Almighty throws you down here to rot instead. You think I don’t know what that feels like?”

The soul shifted on their feet. Everyone in Purgatory was miserable. There wasn’t much lively conversation. This demon might not be trustworthy, but he might be nice to talk to for a little while. To get everything off their chest. Cautiously, the soul wandered over to the stump and sat down.

The demon nudged them with an elbow. “What are you in for?” he asked.

It was a strange way to ask the question, but they answered, “I wasn’t pure enough for Heaven. I’m here to repent until I can—”

“No, no, no. I know that.” He put a hand on the stump, leaning in close. “What are you in for?”

I don’t know, they almost answered, but it wouldn’t be true. “I was turned away because I… took my own life. Back when I was alive.”

“Wow. They’re still doing that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, I just figured they would have gotten rid of that rule by now.” The demon tsk­ed and shook his head. “Can’t do a damn thing right up there, can they?”

“All life is property of God, and destroying it is blasphemy.” At least, that’s what the soul remembered from life. And what they’d been told before being turned away from the gates.

“You know who makes those rules?” The demon pointed up at the gray sky, thin brows raised.

“God?”

“Exactly. He can change them any time He wants. But He doesn’t. And what good does keeping this one around do, exactly?”

The soul didn’t answer because it didn’t have one. They were sent to Purgatory to repent, to be re-judged by God when they understood the gravity of their sin, but they didn’t understand.

“Think about it,” the demon pressed. “It’s not like you were thinking about how much you wanted to get back at Him. I bet you weren’t thinking about Him at all.”

“I just wanted to get out,” the soul admitted. They hugged their own chest, and the demon put a comforting arm around their shoulders.

“You needed a change—you needed help. And where was your guardian-fuckin’-angel when you needed it, huh? Nowhere. All those dipshits up there don’t care about us. They care about staying in charge. Staying worshiped.”

The soul sniffed, glancing at him. “What did you do?”

“I tried to change things. They didn’t like that too much. Left me to boil alive in a river of fire. How’s that for mercy?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, I got used to it. I’m living large if I do say so myself.”

“Really?”

“Damn straight. And it means I can help people like you before you’re gone. Us forgettable pieces of existence have to stick together, right?”

The grin on his face was infectious, and the soul found themselves smiling on instinct. “Before we’re gone? To Heaven?”

“Before you fade. Obviously, I can’t help you after that, but until then I’m your man.”

“What’s fading?”

His smile flickered out. “You don’t know? How long have you been down here?”

Suddenly apprehensive, the soul tore through what little memory they had. “I—I don’t know. At least a century?”

The demon drew back, eyes wide. “Then you don’t have much time left.”

“What do you mean? Time until what?”

A grave shadow pulled his features together sharply. He took their hand and layered it over his own. It was nearly translucent, his skin and fingers clearly visible through their own.

“You’re fading,” the demon explained. “In Heaven and Hell, a soul lasts forever. In Purgatory—not so much. You lose memories, your name, who you are. Eventually, there’s not going to be much of you to send… anywhere.”

Dread seized the forgotten soul. A mousetrap snapped over their non-heart and squeezed it in half. They snatched their hand back and held it up to their face, against the trees. Horrified, they saw the branches and leaves through their palms, wrists, and arms. They saw the stump clearly through their legs and hips.

“I’m fading,” they whispered, dizzy and panicked. “I’m going to die again?”

“Not if you can get somewhere else first,” the demon reassured, but the soul barely heard him.

“My family, they haven’t seen me since… And they never will?”

“Oi!” The demon jerked them around. “You got family in Heaven? Friends?”

“Yes?”

“Perfect. I can get you to them.”

The confidence of that promise slapped the soul out of their stupor. “What? How? You’re a demon!”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly on my home turf. I’ve been sneaking around for a long time. I know how to get in and out of that place, and I can bring you with me.”

For the first time in a century, the soul found a glimmer of hope in those words. Something other than hollow misery and wallowing. “Really?”

“Sure can. You won’t be awake for the trip, but we can leave right now if you want.”

They nodded vigorously. “Yes! As soon as we can.”

The demon hopped off the stump like he had springs in those boots, and the soul followed with joy. Someone was going to help them—someone was going to pay attention to them at last, after more than a century of nothing.

“Oh, one last thing,” the demon said. “Just one, quick question I need to ask you.”

“Anything,” they said.

He smiled again, in that easy, friendly way, and put out a hand to shake. And maybe it was just their imagination, but the forgotten soul could have sworn his eyes flashed red.

“Do we have a deal?”

[hanayori89]

No Woman Beyond (Epilogue)

*DISCLAIMER* This is the official ending of this fanfic and also the PG-13 version. The next post will be the alternative smutty ending so this is totally the readers prerogative. Thanks for reading my work! I hope you enjoyed this little fairytale of the Hero of Time and the contest of his heart (Which was none other than you dear reader ;)*

Applause was rampant throughout the audience. 

After your waltz with Link, you both unwillingly broke away. The taste of each other fresh on both of your lips. You whisked your glances towards each other, awaiting the announcer to rally the crowd. 

Which from the looks of things would be no easy feat. 

There were girls sobbing over the hero's declaration of true love. Men winced from the immense scolds of lonely housewives throughout the crowd.

"How come YOU never kiss me like that?" 

"You didn't even say things like that on our wedding day!"

"Seems like Link is also the hero of romance. Someone needs to show these men how to treat their wives!"

Link gave you an unsteady glance. "How did I save Hyrule, only to destroy it again?" You couldn't help but chuckle and slip your hand within his. Hollers and accolades were still making rounds throughout the crowd. Some grotesque profanities were being yelled by sore losers. Then there were also some shouts of encouragement...

"Thank Hylia! If you two didn't kiss, I would have come up there and shoved your heads together!" You traced the rowdy, feminine voice to Malon. She sat on Epona, clapping midair. "Kiss again!" She began to chant as others started to join in. 

Link began to furiously blush as he sheepishly turned towards you. He pulled you into him once again. A feeling you decided you could never tire of. The announcer stood in the background, clearing his throat. "It seems the hero has made his decision."

Link didn't bother to answer as he drew you into his lips once more. Your kiss was the ultimate hero's welcome. Something that had motivated him to prevail along his journey. You both parted in reverence as you heard Zelda begin to give a statement. You glanced up for a moment to see the same sadness from earlier in the bathroom. It settled like an unwelcomed guest amongst her pleasing features. She would never get to experience what you would. It all seemed so unfair. Everyone deserved to know love.

Zelda made her way to both of you, turning towards Link. "I know what it is you think hero and I do not want your pity. For the love of my kingdom invigorates me. I will say this; I do hope in part the goddesses shall bless me with a marriage that has the tenderness and temerity you both displayed today. " Link simply nodded, bowing at Zelda. So, he had noticed the same despondent princess you had seen. You had never thought of it from Link's perspective. He fought to save Hyrule so we all may have peace and the quality of life we deserve. Yet Zelda can never possess what he fought hard to give everyone else. Link, at the very least, got to return to reap the fruits of his labor. Zelda will never reap those fruits, as her labor is never ending. 

Then Zelda turned her attention towards you, giving you a gentle once over. Her eyes seemed to rest on the three spiritual stones that were pinned to your hair. "You would do the hero and Hyrule proud. You have my blessing. Let us hope that the goddesses never thrust upon him another cruel task. Such as the one he has just endured." 

"Princess," you began but were met by Zelda's hard gaze. "I mean, Zelda. I understand that my love does not come without hardship. Whatever the goddesses have in store; I shall be there to fight alongside my husband." Link's grip on your hand tightened. Comforting caresses of circles were being thumbed on the back of your hand. He gave you a stern expression, "I will not allow you to fight alongside me. I will not allow you to be subjected to such danger." 

"And you should be subjected to it alone? You seem to forget the whole kingdom was subjected to it. What difference does it make if I help you fight? You've seen I have been honing my skills." Defensiveness began to seep through your tone. "As long as I breathe you will never fight alone, Link."

Link continued to caress delicate circles on the back of your hand, in an attempt to calm you. "You have improved immensely. I am so proud of not only your skill, but the fact you took initiative. But just because you can wield fire doesn't mean you should have to walk amongst the flames." 

Zelda chuckled, "It seems you two have a lot to discuss. I offer my congratulations. May destiny deliver happiness and longevity amongst the dearly betrothed. And of course..." a wry smile appeared on her face. "An heir. May the goddesses proclaim!" With a swift bow to us both, she sauntered away to begin making her rounds amongst the audience. 

You turned to look at Link, his eyes already on you. "You sure you don't want to go chase Zelda? Malon? Aren't you already engaged to Princess Ruto? Now is your chance, hero."

Link erupted in laughter, pulling you back into his brawny body. The way you were meant to be. He held your face in between his hands, pressing his nose lovingly against yours. 

"Please, don't call me hero. I'm just Link. Your Link. Now and forever. And if anyone is a hero, it would be you. Whether you realize it or not, you have saved me so many times. You are the reason I was able to save Hyrule. I couldn't have done it without you." He twirled his fingers in some of your loose tendrils of h/c hair. His mouth so close to yours, his breath tickled your lips. 

"There is no one I want to chase, but you. My wife, "he made sure to emphasize wife. Hearing it sent a jolt through you.

"There isn't a woman in Hyrule or beyond that I could love the way I love you."

    **The End**

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