#everyone has plenty of outfits but these are just the mains

[maslosstuff]

Some of Heidi’s wardrobe

[deliciousangelfestival]

We're Not Okay - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x veterinarian!Female Reader

Summary: Two people, each carrying their own trauma, find themselves in a place where they can begin to heal their wounds and mend their hearts together.

Words Count: 3,400

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“This is the first time I’ve heard a fox's voice,” said your father, Toni, as he shivered, pulling his jacket suit tighter around himself. The cold air bit at both of you as snow threatened to fall. Toni, at 50 years old, stood taller than you, his grey hair contrasting against the bleak sky.

He kept close behind as you worked at the conservation center, his eyes darting downward to ensure his pristine Italian leather shoes avoided mud or puddles. Unlike him, you wore a rugged outdoor outfit, complete with sturdy boots, befitting your role as a veterinarian and co-owner of the conservation—a job you’d been committed to since leaving home at seventeen.

“You could have waited in the visitor’s room,” you said, glancing over your shoulder while examining the fox.

“I can’t,” he replied, his voice tinged with anxiousness.

You let out a long sigh, turning your attention back to the fox—a sleek creature with bright orange fur streaked with hints of white, its ears flicking nervously as you checked for injuries. Its amber eyes watched you warily, a mix of fear and exhaustion evident.

Once your work was done, you exited the cage with Toni following closely. Both of you headed toward the main house, the crunch of gravel underfoot breaking the tense silence.

Toni’s eyes caught something unusual. “Wow. What’s that?” He pointed toward a cage set apart from the rest.

“Wait…! Don’t go near—” you shouted, but it was too late. Toni had already stepped closer.

“AHH!” He fell to the ground, his face pale and eyes wide. He trembled as he stared at the creature inside.

The white wolf looked directly at him, its majestic fur glistening like freshly fallen snow. Though intimidating with its piercing blue eyes and muscular build, it limped, favoring one injured leg.

You rushed over and dragged your father away from the cage. “I can’t even get close to him,” you muttered, exasperated.

Toni stood, brushing the dirt from his customized jacket, his face a mixture of frustration and fear. “I’ve been spat on, peed on, and now nearly eaten by the animals here.”

“Why are you even here if you hate it so much?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just like my two older brothers. They come here, disrupt my work, and complain.”

“Ew… this place stinks. How do you stand it?” your first brother had sneered on his last visit.

“This owl is interesting. Do you sell them? I know plenty of people who’d pay,” the second one had added.

“GET OUT!” you’d yelled, seething with fury.

All the men in your family despised the outdoors. City people, through and through, they were consumed with managing their nightclub empire—a world you had rejected wholeheartedly. That life, everything they represented, was what drove you away to this sanctuary of yours.

Toni shifted nervously, glancing at you with rare vulnerability. It was an odd sight—the formidable nightclub owner and fierce businessman, now reduced to unease in your presence.

“Here’s the thing. I need… No.” He shook his head and corrected himself, “We need your help.”

“Me?” You arched an eyebrow. “How?” The question dripped with skepticism. You, a conservationist and veterinarian, had severed ties with their business long ago.

“Because of COVID-19, many businesses have been hit hard, including ours,” Toni said, his shoulders sagging.

You crossed your arms tighter, a flicker of resentment surfacing. After you’d left home, you’d turned a blind eye to everything related to their business. “Well, good. I hope that place burns to the ground.”

Toni’s face fell. “I know you hate it, but it’s my livelihood.” He sighed deeply. “Business is bad. There’s a chance it’ll go bankrupt.”

“Then sell it,” you said with a dismissive wave. “Most men your age are enjoying retirement.”

“Bah! No. I’m still in my prime!” He straightened his back defensively.

“Get to the point. What do you want?” you demanded.

“There’s someone willing to invest. But… there’s a catch,” Toni admitted, his eyes pleading. “Do you know Barnes?”

“Hmm… Yeah. The family that donates a lot to wildlife causes, including this place.”

“That’s right.” Toni nodded eagerly.

“So Barnes wants to invest in your nightclub?” You were incredulous. “Why?”

“That’s how Barnes gets richer—diversifying. And they’ve chosen our business. But there’s a condition.” Toni’s expression grew grave.

A pit formed in your stomach. Whatever it was, you knew it couldn’t be good.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

“The Barneses want to send their oldest grandchild here,” said Toni, his voice low as if dreading your reaction.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling slowly. “This isn’t a daycare or rehab facility for humans.”

“I know, I know.” He raised his hands defensively. “That’s what I’ve been telling them. But they won’t budge. If I don’t bring their grandchild here, they won’t invest in the nightclub.”

“Ridiculous!” you snapped, your eyes narrowing. “Why drag me into this? The animals here are victims, and this place is their sanctuary, not some personal favor zone.”

“I knew you’d hate it,” Toni said, shifting uncomfortably. “But I thought you might change your mind after hearing me out.”

You crossed your arms, skeptically raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m all ears. What kind of offer could possibly make me reconsider?”

“This… isn’t easy for me,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “But I’ll give you what you’ve wanted for a long time. I’ll remove you from the family registry.”

Your eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Wow. You must really need this investment.”

Toni nodded, his shoulders slumping, revealing the weight of his desperation. “But you don’t…” His voice faltered, as if hoping you’d ask for anything else instead of severing family ties completely.

“Fine.” The single word was delivered coolly as you turned on your heel, walking away without looking back. Toni’s face fell, his hope visibly deflated.

“Do you really hate me that much?” he called out, his voice cracking slightly. “That you want nothing to do with us?”

You stopped mid-step, your back still to him. “I do.” The words were blunt and final, hitting him like a physical blow.

A silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint rustling of the wind. “Because of you, I’m reminded of that incident,” you said quietly, more to yourself than him, before walking away, leaving him standing there, hurt and alone.

That night, sleep eluded you. Memories from your childhood swirled in your mind, refusing to let you rest. Growing up as the child of a nightclub owner was no fairytale. Your home was a chaotic tangle of bright lights and dark secrets. You’d seen things a child shouldn’t—dangerous deals, late-night arguments, drunken patrons—and it left scars.

The confusion was only magnified by two stepmothers and two stepbrothers. Making a family tree in school was always a nightmare. That business stole away what innocence you had left. That was why you fled, finding solace in the simplicity and quiet resilience of animals.

"Owooooooo," A wolf’s howl pierced the still night air, low and haunting.

The sound sent a chill down your spine but also pulled you from your thoughts. Grabbing your jacket, you decided to check on the white wolf.

The wolf’s enclosure was isolated from the others. Previously placed near the fox, it had made every nearby animal skittish and restless, so it was moved here. The wolf stood under the pale moonlight, its white fur glistening like freshly fallen snow, every movement tinged with raw strength despite the noticeable limp in its gait. It tilted its head back and howled again, a mournful, soul-stirring sound.

You stepped closer to the cage, your breath fogging in the cold air. The white wolf’s piercing blue eyes locked onto you, unblinking. When it first arrived, it had been painfully thin, its ribs visible under its fur, and its injured leg had been in dire condition. Despite its weakened state, it had always reacted with hostility—growling, baring its sharp teeth whenever you approached.

You stopped just outside the cage’s boundary. “Can’t sleep?” you asked softly. “Me neither.”

The wolf let out another long, mournful howl, as if acknowledging your words. Its gaze was intense, wary, but something flickered in its eyes—pain, maybe even recognition.

“You’ve been hurt a lot,” you murmured, your voice low and steady. The wolf’s ears twitched, a small but telling sign that it was listening, though its muscles remained taut, ready to spring at the first hint of danger. You leaned against the cold metal bars, feeling the chill seep through your jacket. The wolf’s intense gaze never wavered, its blue eyes seeming to pierce right through you, mirroring a pain you recognized all too well. This raw, unfiltered connection made the air feel heavier, the silence more profound.

This was why you worked here. It wasn’t just about caring for wounded animals; it was about caring for yourself. The conservation was a sanctuary, not only for those with fur and feathers but for a heart battered by memories of your past.

Every injured creature, every frightened animal you helped heal, was a step toward mending yourself. You’d left a life that was full of noise, chaos, and hollow family ties that never really felt like home. Here, there was simplicity in purpose and purity in your connection with these beings—no lies, no hidden motives, only survival, trust, and the instinctual drive to heal.

When you saw the wolf growl and lash out in fear or defiance, you understood. Its isolation mirrored your own self-imposed solitude. You, too, had learned to push others away to protect yourself. In mending its wounds, in helping it trust again, you hoped to do the same for yourself. Piece by piece. Scar by scar.

You sighed, your breath visible in the cold air. “It’s going to be okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than the wolf. It didn’t respond, of course, but its ears twitched again. You let yourself believe that, maybe, it understood on some level. Maybe, just like you, it wanted to believe that healing was possible—even after so much pain.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

The inside of the luxurious jeep exuded opulence—soft leather seats, dark wood paneling, and the faint scent of expensive cologne mingling with polished leather. In the spacious backseat sat two men.

One of them, Jimmy Barnes, carried himself with a commanding presence. His gray hair was impeccably styled, and lines of experience etched his face, giving him the aura of a leader used to control. Everything about him, from the sharp cut of his suit to his steely gaze, spoke of power and purpose.

Beside him, his eldest son, James Buchanan Barnes—known as Bucky—stared blankly out the window. The passing landscape rolled by, ignored and unremarked upon, as the silence between father and son stretched uncomfortably. The trip had already dragged on for four hours, and not a single word had passed between them.

Jimmy shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. He glanced at Bucky, his eyes softening momentarily before hardening again as he struggled to maintain composure. He drew a breath and spoke, his voice firm but tinged with an edge of weariness.

“Bucky.”

There was no response. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the blur of trees outside, as if he hadn’t heard anything at all.

Jimmy clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the cane resting against his knee. He let out a deep sigh, exhaling the frustration he’d been holding. “Bucky,” he repeated, more gently this time. Still nothing. Jimmy's shoulders sagged slightly, a rare crack in his usually impenetrable facade.

Bucky, his firstborn from his marriage to his late first wife, hadn’t spoken a word in years. As a child, something had happened—something that had stolen his voice and left scars too deep for therapists and experts to reach.

Every attempt to coax him out of his silence had met with failure. Over time, Bucky had also developed acute anxiety around people, making even the simplest social interactions a nightmare. Recently, though, they’d discovered a sliver of hope: Bucky seemed calmer, even a little more at ease, around animals.

Jimmy’s thoughts drifted back to his meeting with Toni. What had started as a business discussion quickly shifted when Toni mentioned his daughter—a veterinarian with her own conservation center. The idea had taken root then and there.

This might be what Bucky needed. It was a desperate measure, but Jimmy would go to any length to see his son improve—for Bucky’s sake, and for the sake of their family legacy.

Jimmy shifted again, leaning closer to Bucky, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “We’re going somewhere different today,” he said, trying to inject warmth into his tone. “You’ll like it. Animals, open air… it’s good.”

Bucky didn’t move, but a slight tension in his shoulders betrayed that he’d heard. The silence lingered heavily between them, but Jimmy took it as a small victory. He leaned back, looking out his own window, his expression hardening once more. He needed this to work. Bucky had to get better—for himself, for the company, and for the legacy he would one day inherit.

The jeep rolled on, carrying them both toward an uncertain future.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

When Jimmy and Bucky arrived, the scene was more than just a simple visit; it was practically an event. The luxurious jeep pulled up, its polished exterior gleaming even in the muted light. Two men stepped out, flanked by a small team of guards who maintained a cautious but respectful distance. You observed the scene with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Guards? It felt excessive.

Toni walked over with a strained smile, clearly trying to mask his nerves. He gestured toward the older man with an air of forced calm. “This is Jimmy Barnes,” Toni said, his voice firm but tinged with unease. “Jimmy, this is my daughter.”

You extended a hand politely, meeting Jimmy’s piercing gaze. His handshake was strong, controlled—a man used to holding power. “Pleasure to meet you,” you said, maintaining eye contact.

Jimmy nodded once, his expression unreadable. “Thank you for having us,” he replied. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Of course,” you said, feeling the weight of his words. There was a formality in his tone, but a glimmer of desperation lingered beneath. You turned your attention to the younger man beside him. “And you must be Bucky.” You spoke gently, but Bucky didn’t respond. He barely seemed to register your presence, his gaze fixed on the ground or wandering elsewhere.

Jimmy’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He shifted his weight, a sign of his frustration, though he kept his voice even. “Bucky,” he said again, a touch softer this time. There was no answer. Only the quiet rustling of leaves in the wind.

You looked at Jimmy, feeling the tension simmering beneath the surface. “He can take his time,” you offered quietly, hoping to ease the pressure. “There’s no rush here.”

Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Thank you,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s… difficult. You understand.”

“I do,” you nodded, choosing your words carefully. “We all need space to find our way. Animals teach me that every day.”

Bucky, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, took a few hesitant steps toward the enclosures. You and Jimmy watched as he moved, his posture guarded but curious.

“He’s calmer around animals,” Jimmy said, almost to himself. There was a mix of hope and despair in his voice. “People make it… harder.”

You nodded, choosing to focus on Bucky. “I’ve seen it happen before,” you said quietly. “Sometimes, animals understand what we can’t.”

Jimmy studied you for a moment, as if weighing your words. “I hope you’re right,” he said finally, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his otherwise controlled exterior. “This has to work.”

“It’s a journey,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “There are no guarantees. But we’ll do our best.”

As Bucky moved closer to the enclosures, something strange happened—the animals turned their attention to him. Every single one of them stopped what they were doing and sat down, as if sensing something unseen. You blinked in surprise, feeling a chill run down your spine. This wasn’t normal behavior.

The white wolf, isolated from the rest due to its intimidating presence, suddenly stood. Its pristine fur gleamed in the sunlight as it limped toward Bucky. You held your breath, instinctively stepping forward in case something went wrong. But Bucky extended a hand, slow and gentle. The wolf hesitated for a brief moment before closing the distance, nudging Bucky’s hand with its nose. Your eyes widened. This was the first time the white wolf had willingly approached anyone. Even you—who spent countless hours caring for it—had never been received this way. It always kept its distance, aloof and wary.

Jimmy watched the scene unfold, his eyes brightening with a mix of hope and disbelief. He turned to you, his voice low but firm. “I have a feeling this place can help him.” There was a pause, heavy with meaning. “If it does, I’ll donate a substantial sum to support your work here.”

“Thank… thank you,” you managed, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. You inclined your head, feeling the weight of his words settle on your shoulders.

Jimmy nodded and began to walk back to the car, the guards moving in step with him. Toni lingered for a moment. He stepped closer, his expression softened as he took your hand. “Please,” he whispered, his grip warm but trembling slightly. “Help me this time.”

You bit your lip, uncertainty swirling within you. “I’m still not sure about this.”

Toni’s eyes met yours, a mixture of hope and desperation. “You can do this. You’ve always managed to handle things on your own.” He gave you a thumbs up, a strained but genuine smile on his lips, before turning to follow Jimmy.

You watched him go, your heart tightening. “No, I’m not,” you whispered to yourself, your shoulders sagging as the weight of the situation pressed down. Outwardly, you might appear strong and unshakable, but inside, the scars of the past left you vulnerable and weary. Every act of strength was a battle, every decision a reminder of what you had to protect.

When the car disappeared from view, you turned your attention back to Bucky.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

You and Bucky stood in awkward silence after the initial introductions. The air was heavy, almost stifling, as you struggled to find the right words. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on a point somewhere past your shoulder, his expression distant and unreadable. Finally, you sighed softly, deciding to break the silence.

“Come on,” you said gently, gesturing for him to follow. “Let me show you your room.”

Bucky fell into step behind you, his movements quiet but tense. As you walked, you explained, “We keep things pretty simple around here. Meals are communal. Everyone—workers, volunteers—we all eat together.” You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “You don’t have to join if you’re not ready. No pressure.”

Bucky’s only response was a brief nod. It was mechanical, almost detached, but at least it was acknowledgment. You offered a small smile, even though he wasn’t looking at you. “There’s food available whenever you want it,” you continued softly. “And if you need anything, just let me know.”

He said nothing, his eyes wandering to the walls as if searching for an escape. You let out a quiet breath, your heart heavy. You knew this kind of pain—it mirrored the animals you cared for here. The ones who recoiled from touch, who couldn’t trust, who flinched at the slightest movement. Healing took time. It required patience, and you were prepared to give him both. You just hoped he’d let you.

When night fell, the dining room filled with the usual chatter of workers and volunteers unwinding from the day. You scanned the room but didn’t see Bucky. It wasn’t surprising—socializing with strangers was probably overwhelming for him. Silently, you prepared a tray of food and carried it to his room, setting it carefully in front of the door. You didn’t knock. You didn’t want to intrude. Instead, you walked away quietly, hoping he would eat when he was ready.

As you settled into your own bed later that night, a strange unease crept over you. The quiet felt oppressive—too quiet. Usually, the white wolf’s mournful howls punctuated the stillness, a sound you’d grown oddly comforted by. Tonight, there was nothing. It gnawed at you, pulling you from bed and urging you out into the night.

Your steps quickened as you made your way toward the white wolf’s enclosure. The moon cast pale light over the grounds, and there, standing face to face with the wolf, was Bucky.

Neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other, as if sharing an unspoken language that only they could understand. The wolf’s icy-blue eyes were locked onto Bucky, unblinking, while Bucky’s expression was raw, a mixture of pain and something else you couldn’t quite name—recognition, perhaps.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. “Hi…” you said softly, taking slow, cautious steps forward. You didn’t want to startle either of them.

Bucky flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping toward you. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a split second, you saw fear flash across his face. He turned and bolted, his footsteps muffled by the grass. As he disappeared into the shadows, the white wolf turned its attention to you. It let out a low, warning growl, its body tense and protective.

'What was that?' You froze, raising your hands slowly in a gesture of peace. “It’s okay,” you murmured, though your pulse raced. The wolf’s eyes never left you, its growl deepening. You felt like an intruder—like you’d interrupted something sacred.

What had just happened? Why did it feel like you were the outsider, the third party in whatever silent connection Bucky and the wolf shared?

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[bloodandoranges]

Things the main BG3 characters love (Halsin included)

I came from the era of tumblr and fanfic where EVERYONE was writing imagines so this is sort of in the same breath…

Karlach / Shadowheart / Lae’zel / Wyll / Astarion / Gale / Halsin / 18+ though there’s not a ton of mention of spice

Karlach

She loves to touch you, any way she can. Holding your hand, playing with your hair, carrying you around… as long as she can feel you, she is content.

In camp, you sit in her lap as you eat and wind down from adventures, and strong, gentle hands run over your body… not in a lustful way — not usually — just adoring you.

Thought sometimes, she’ll slip her hand under your bed shirt, clawed fingers gently tracing over your side until you gasp and excuse yourself for bed…which Karlach eagerly follows.

Laezel

Lae’zel has never been fond of public displays of her affections; but alone? She loves to kiss you, to feel your hot breath against her face before your lips meet, fingers tangling through hair…

You feel lucky and privileged to see this tender side of her. The soft pecks in the mornings are just as special, as the two awaken from sleepy hazes, lazily smiles on your faces. She presses tender kisses over your neck and shoulders…occasionally, trailing down your chest, over your thighs… she loves your fingers tugging her hair, the way her name falls from your lips.

Shadowheart

(I apologize as she’s my baby girl but also the only one I haven’t seen a ton of romance stuff for but I tried with what I know!)

Whenever you hand Shadowheart a flower? Her heart skips a beat, cheeks instantly flush…simple gestures like that; a kiss given, a hand squeezed, all make her once dark heart flutter. She loves to be doted on, to know she’s utterly adored by her lover. Of course…she loves to dote on you too.

Quality time is important to her, she takes you on dates or private walks all the time…and sometimes? She takes you in the bushes.

Wyll

There is nothing he loves more than singing to you; more specifically? Writing songs for you…of course, he writes you sweet letters all the time, doting and adoring…but his songs? They’re always full of passion, something you can both dance to. He twirls you around the campsite, humming as he beams at you…eyes full of utter devotion.

He loves to pull you apart with his tongue, with his sweet words, and sometimes settled with your legs over his shoulders…

Astarion

He loves to praise you, to absolutely worship the ground beneath your feet. No god could ever compare to his love… Not that he’d really ever tell you that, of course. But it’s clear in his affectionate touches, the way he dotes over you. You are his world.

Of course, that extends to the bedroom. To be able to bring you to bliss; to have the choice? It’s everything to him…and he definitely doesn’t mind when you return the favour.

Gale

He loves to give things to you. Grand displays of affection are a daily occurrence with him. Bouquets of flowers too big to hold, a (magic) luxurious bed after a particularly rough day, cooking extravagant meals - when the only ingredients left /aren’t/ a single mushroom and an apple.

When you move in to his tower in Waterdeep? he takes you shopping, making the tower just as much yours as it is his, buying you extravagant outfits and trinkets and anything your heart desires; all while reminding you that you are worth far more than he could ever give you.

Of course, you give him plenty in return…

Halsin

You are sure no one on this earth could be more affectionate than Halsin. He loves to bask in the sunshine with you, often lazing around as a bear…enjoying just being with you. He loves showing you new things, teaching you and even learning with you… you bring light into his once shadowed head.

Though, there is nothing he loves more than a good old romp in the grass with you.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

When it comes to cold weather, the main rule (regardless of gender or presentation) is: when in doubt, choose warmth and safety over style. 

Some basics: 

Layering is your best friend: Start with moisture-wicking base layers to keep sweat off your skin. Follow with insulating layers (like fleece or wool), and finish with a weather-resistant outer layer (like a puffer jacket or waterproof coat) to protect against wind, snow or rain.

Keep your sensitive areas warm: Make sure your hands, feet, and head are covered! Gloves, warm socks and a beanie can prevent cold-related discomfort or injuries. 

Waterproof: If you're facing snow or rain, make sure your clothes are waterproof. Wet clothes lose their insulating ability, so staying dry is a big part of staying warm! 

Reflective Gear: If you’re out in the dark or in poor visibility conditions, consider adding reflective elements to your outfit for safety.

People can react differently to temperatures. A temperature that feels super cold to you could feel comfortable to someone else, depending on what you’re used to (and some other factors). As a very basic rule, we can say: Gloves, beanies, and other cold-weather accessories typically become necessary when temperatures drop below 40°F (4°C). In more severe cold (below 32°F (0°C)), it’s even more important to wear them to protect yourself from frostbite and maintain body warmth. But it goes even in milder weather: if you feel uncomfortable or if it’s windy or damp, it’s a good idea to add these items for extra comfort.

With all that being said: Clothes are not just for safety and temperature control, they also help you express yourself - and that doesn’t suddenly change in winter. 

Dressing for cold weather doesn’t have to mean sacrificing your personal look. Whether you want to present more feminine, more masculine, or more androgynous, here are some tips to help you layer up and feel like yourself: 

(Note that these are suggestions, not hard rules. Style is highly subjective as everyone has different tastes, preferences, body types, fashion inspirations, budgets, cultural influences etc. I could suggest something here that you’d feel super uncomfortable in - if so, that’s not a sign you’re “doing it wrong”! Cherry-pick what feels right and ignore the rest) 

If You Want to Present More Feminine

Base Layers: If you want to wear skirts or dresses in winter, start with thermal leggings or tights! These can be nicely paired with cozy, long-sleeved tops or lightweight thermal shirts. (But also keep in mind that plenty of women, cis or trans, do not wear dresses all the time! Nothing wrong with choosing jeans!) 

Outer Layers: There are plenty of styles to choose from that have a feminine touch, such as a belted trench coat, a pea coat, or a long wool coat. Shawls are also excellent for adding a touch of style while keeping you warm! 

Footwear: Knee-high or thigh-high boots lined with faux fur or fleece can keep your legs warm and add a polished look to your outfit. Ankle boots with thicker socks are also a good alternative.

Accessories: Scarves, gloves, and beanies can be both practical and stylish. Knit hats or earmuffs can add a soft, cozy vibe to your look.

Style Tip: Go for a mix of fabrics like wool, faux fur, and knitwear to create texture and warmth.

If You Want to Present More Masculine: 

- Base Layers: Start with thermal undershirts or moisture-wicking base layers. Consider long underwear for added insulation beneath your pants.

- Outer Layers: There’s plenty of outerwear to choose from, like a puffer jacket, parka, or wool overcoat! (Faux) Leather or bomber jackets layered over sweaters can also add a masculine edge while keeping you warm.

- Footwear: You might want to opt for sturdy boots, such as work boots, Chelsea boots, or combat boots. Thicker socks can keep your feet warm.

- Accessories: Don’t skip out on scarves, beanies, or gloves for being “too feminine”. They can actually be great for adding a more rugged feel to your outfit! You just gotta find a color and style that fits you well. 

Style Tip: Focus on layering in a way that adds structure. Sweaters, button-ups, and jackets work great together for a sharp, put-together look. Play with dark, neutral tones and thick fabrics like wool or denim for extra warmth and style.

If You Want to Present Androgynous

- Base Layers: Neutral-colored thermal tops or turtlenecks can serve as great foundational pieces. You may want to pair these with straight-leg or loose-fitting pants that allow room for layering underneath.

- Outer Layers: Oversized coats, puffer jackets, or long trench coats can work well for an androgynous look. Try layering with oversized sweaters or fleece pullovers for extra warmth.

- Footwear: You could go for sneakers, lace-up boots, or loafers paired with warm, thick socks. But really, any pair of shoes can work for an unisex outfit. 

- Accessories: Neutral-colored scarves, simple beanies, and fingerless gloves can add to an androgynous look. Minimalist accessories like oversized scarves or gender-neutral caps are both practical and stylish.

Style Tip: Aim for a balanced mix of structured and relaxed pieces. Try loose layers on top with more fitted pants, or vice versa, to create an effortless, warm, and non-gendered appearance.

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[cowboykento]

Come on Barbie, Let's Go Party!

characters: nanami kento x fem!reader x gojo satoru (nanami x reader is the main pair/relationship.)

warnings: slight dub-con (everyone is a little drunk), alcohol consumption, threesome, face fucking, hair pulling, degradation (they call reader a slut (usually affectionately) a lot), dialogue heavy, other nicknames used (princess, angel, sweetheart, sweet thing, little girl, etc.), no protection used bc i didn’t even think about it (be safer than this irl!!!). let me know if i missed anything big here.

word count: 2.5k

minors and blank blogs dni or i'll block you :3

You were shocked Kento had agreed to go to Gojo’s halloween party, although it hadn’t been without effort on your part. You’d first mentioned the idea almost as soon as Gojo had asked you—an intentional move on his part, he knew the only way to get Nanami there was through you—but Kento had said no. 

That didn’t dissuade you, however, and after showing him countless pictures of cute couple’s costumes that you knew the two of you could pull off incredibly well. It had been the Barbie and Ken costumes that had finally won him over in the end. Well, more truthfully it was the outfit you’d shown him for your Barbie costume that sealed the deal. 

It wasn’t a conventional costume, or really even a costume at all by itself. You’d picked out a cute, two-piece pink dress, a white headband to match, and some frilly pink and white stockings. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Kento knew that you knew how to win him over, but that didn’t convince him enough not to finally agree.

Now that you guys were at the party, you could tell Nanami is restless to go home, and has been since you’d arrived. Nobody could deny that the two of you were the most attractive couple there, but Kento knows all eyes are really on you and your short skirt and pretty top that showed off the perfect amount of skin. 

The more depraved part of Kento thinks he should have left marks along your throat and collarbone for everyone to see, and you probably would have let him, too. Instead, he’s forced to stand dormantly and do everything in his power not to pull you away from Satoru’s wolfish smile and charming words. 

Truthfully, Kento isn’t having a bad time at all. In fact, he’s enjoying himself much more than he thought he would—only because he can shamelessly ogle you as you talk to everyone and could drink free booze, but he’s still having a good time nonetheless.

You’re plenty drunk yourself, anyone with a set of eyes could tell, but Nanami knows better than anyone. You’re being careless—more than you can afford to be with the skimpy little outfit you’d chosen. Part of him, the more jealous and unreasonable part of him thinks maybe you were doing it on purpose, just to rile him up, but he tries to quell those thoughts and blame it on the liquor. 

What he refuses to blame on the alcohol, however, is the way Satoru looks at you. Sure, he’s guilty of exactly the same thing, but you’re his. You’re not Satoru’s, and Kento can feel his blood boiling with the way Gojo eyes you up like he doesn’t know fully well that you’re taken. 

Eventually, Kento makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as you smile brightly at him, thrilled to see him like you’d forgotten he had come with you. 

“Ken!” you shout, smile nearly reaching your ears as you stand shakily on your tiptoes to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. 

“Hey, angel,” he replies, voice much softer than yours but just as full of affection. “Are you having fun?”

You nod quickly, “Mhm! We were just about to play a game! You should play with us!”

Kento frowns—he’d been hoping you’d be just about ready to leave by now, but alas it seems like you’re having the time of your life. 

“I don’t know, princess,” he starts hesitantly before suddenly a new weight has landed on his shoulders.

“C’mon Nanamin!” Gojo shouts, “It’ll be fun!”

Kento shrugs Gojo off, “Yeah, I’m not sure I want to be involved in anything you consider fun, Gojo.”

Before Gojo has a chance to be offended, you’re batting your eyelashes up at your boyfriend, “Aww, but Ken, what if I say it’ll be fun? Please?”

Nanami’s jaw clenches. You know as well as he does that he’ll never be able to deny you when you look up at him all pretty. He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs, trying to ignore your and Satoru’s anticipation as you wait for his reply.

“Fine, I’ll play.”

****

About four rounds of shots and a game that’s devolved into something unrecognizable and Kento’s never wished he had more willpower to tell you no than he does now. 

You’re sitting pretty on Kento’s lap, have been since he agreed to play, and he’d be lying if he said he isn’t turned on right now. Your skirt, which was already so short you had to be careful how you moved, had ridden up just enough that the only thing keeping everyone else at the party from seeing your panties was Kento’s hand placed on your thighs. Unfortunately for him, that also means he can feel every time you rub your thighs together when he would whisper something into your ear. He isn’t even trying to get you worked up, but it was working nonetheless, and he knows it.

“You wanna feel good, sweetheart?” Kento whispers, fingers dancing along the hem of your skirt.

You turn in towards Nanami more, trying to hide yourself from everyone else as you clench your thighs together in a desperate attempt to feel any relief between your legs. At this point, the only people left at the party are Satoru, Suguru, Shoku, and Haibara, and they’ve all turned into their own conversations, ignoring you and Nanami. 

You look up at him, your eyes wide and a bit watery—Kento isn’t sure how he let you get this drunk, but he’s far from sober himself at this point and doesn’t have the mind to think about anything other than making you feel good. You nod desperately, hanging on to the front of his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.

His fingers reach farther up your thighs as he kisses along your neck. It takes the little shreds of dignity and control you have left in you not to moan out. His thick, demanding fingers reach your panties, his thumb ghosting over your throbbing clit. 

“Kento,” you groan into his ear, “need you so bad, need to feel good, please.”

“I know princess, I know. But you gotta keep quiet for me, yeah? Don’t want all of our friends to hear you being a little slut at Satoru’s party, do you?”

You shake your head as Kento continues thumbing at your soaked-through panties, making your head spin with pleasure. 

“You’re so wet for me, sweet thing. You’ve got no shame, do you, princess? That’s okay, I’ll take care of you even if you’re a slut.”

You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips, and instantly Kento’s actions halt.

“Be good,” he pinches your thigh, warning you. “If you make another sound, I’ll have to stop. Understand?”

“Mhm, I’ll be good, promise.”

Kento kisses your temple, as he continues circling your clit, “That’s my girl.”

You can’t help but grind down into the little bit of pressure Kento’s providing, so desperate for your release and mind so foggy from lust and alcohol.

“So close, Ken, ‘m so close,” you whimper as quietly as possible.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he replies huskily, slipping a thick finger into your wet heat. “Cum for me, baby.”

Your orgasm shakes your body, jolts of electricity pulsing throughout you as you bite down on your lip to hold back the moan that tries to rip through you. 

You’re panting as Kento puts your panties back into place and presses a kiss to your shaking lips. 

“You finally ready to leave, princess?”

“You better be,” Satoru’s voice interrupts. “Been waiting for the two of you to be done so I can start cleaning up. Thought Nanamin would have a little more decency, but I guess even he can’t help himself around a pretty thing like you.”

Neither you nor Kento had noticed that everyone else had filtered out of Satoru’s apartment, but now instead of pleasure you feel a hot flash of embarrassment rush through your body. 

“Are you jealous, Satoru?” Nanami’s voice cuts through the awkwardness shockingly. You turn to him, eyes wide and misunderstanding his boldness. 

Satoru takes a step toward the two of you, gently grabbing your chin to force your gaze to fall on him, rather than Kento. 

“Mmm, I just might be. She’s real pretty like this, isn’t she?” Satoru teases, looking over your head and  at Nanami like you’re not even there. 

“Of course,” Nanami replies, something in his voice challenging Satoru. He grabs a fistful of your hair, not too roughly but enough to force tears to prick at the corners of your eyes as he turns you back towards him. “What do you think, princess? I think Satoru wants me to share you. My sweet little girl. Don’t know if he’s worth sharing you with.”

Nanami’s expression is hard to read, especially with the traces of alcohol still in your body, but it’s not hard to feel the swell of his dick underneath you, stretching against the fabric of his pants. 

“Do you wanna give Satoru a turn with you, baby?”

Your eyes are wide and wet, and Nanami’s grip pulling at your roots is only making thinking straight that much more difficult. Still, you whisper out a shy, “Y- yeah.”

He pulls your head back to kiss your neck harshly, sucking a dark bruise into the skin. 

“Knew you were a little slut. Good thing you’re so pretty and perfect,” he speaks into your neck. “I’ll let Satoru have a turn with you, but remember who you belong to, princess.”

He presses another kiss to your lips before releasing his hold on you and letting Satoru pull you back towards him. 

“He’s right, you really are a slutty little girl, letting him finger fuck you right here on my couch at my party,” Gojo teases, pulling you off Nanami’s lap and onto his. “How sweet of Nanami to warm up your little pussy for me.”

You moan loudly at his words as he flips your skirt up, fully revealing the pretty pink panties you’d picked out just to match your costume. 

“Oh, you’re such a doll. All dressed up just for my party? Almost like you knew we’d slut you out right here. Or maybe that’s what you wanted this whole time? What do you think, Nanamin?” 

Nanami has since pulled his dick out of the confines of his costume pants, fisting it slowly to the sight of you hovering over Gojo, “Seems just about right to me. Is that what you wanted, princess? For me to share you? To get your slutty little pussy fucked right in front of everyone? Could’ve just asked, sweetheart, didn’t have to be a tease.”

“Please,” you whimper to Gojo as he unzips his own pants, pulling your panties to the side and lining himself up with your quivering cunt. “Please, want it so bad.” 

Gojo clicks his tongue, “You’ve taught her well, Nanami. She begs so pretty for me.” He turns his attention back toward you, hitting his dick against your sensitive clit a few times before pushing into your tight heat. 

Both you and Satoru moan loudly as he enters you. He doesn’t take any time at all before bucking his hips up into you fiercely, and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan, throwing your head back as Satoru pounds into your cunt. 

“Shit,” he moans, “Fuck, this pussy is so fucking good.” 

You hear Kento moan from where he sits, and the thought of him watching you get fucked by Satoru is only turning you on more. You want to put on a show for him, to make him so jealous he comes and steals you away from Satoru and takes his turn fucking you. 

Instead, Kento stands and grabs a fistful of your hair once again, pulling your head back to look up at him. Your body is alight as Nanami tells you to open your mouth before he spits directly onto your tongue, staking his claim to you as you swallow. 

“Turn her around, Satoru,” he commands, “I’m gonna fuck her slutty little throat.” 

Satoru is quick to oblige, the thought of you taking both of their dicks turning everyone on even more. He takes no time in returning to his brutal pace, fucking up into your pussy and chasing his own orgasm desperately. 

“Open wide for me, sweetheart,” Nanami tells you, pressing the tip of his dick against your lips before you comply, taking as much of his length in as you can manage. You hold onto Nanami for balance, Satoru’s thrusts pushing you to take even more of Kento’s dick in your mouth, forcing tears to fall down your cheeks. 

Kento groans loudly, his grip on your hair firm as he fucks himself into your tight throat. His pace isn’t quite as fierce as Satoru’s but it’s overwhelming nonetheless. 

“Fuck, princess, tight little pussy’s sucking me right in. I’m so close, want me to fill you up nice and good?” Satoru pants. 

“You better fucking not,” Nanami replies sharply, his hand squeezes your hair even tighter and you yelp. “That pussy doesn’t take anyone’s cum except mine.” 

Satoru moans even louder at that, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his orgasm. You’re close too, the coil in your tummy tightening so much that you think a wayward gust of air on your clit would send you hurtling into bliss. 

You look up at Kento with tears in your eyes, his big thumb brushing them away as they fall down your cheeks. 

“Are you close, angel?” He coos sweetly. “Look so gorgeous like this, letting both of us stuff you full. Cum for me, sweetheart, go ahead.” 

It only takes two more thrusts from Satoru to finally send you over the edge, your vision whiting out as you cream around Satoru’s dick. You gargle around Nanami’s cock as you cum, the vibrations only getting him that much closer. 

Satoru pulls out shortly after you finish, and you only have a second to be confused before you feel his hot seed shoot all over your back, his voice pitching as he lets out a loud, whiny moan. 

Kento continues fucking your throat, his pace picking up as he chases his climax, “So perfect for me, sweetheart. Fuck, gonna swallow everything I have to give you, won’t you?”

You do your best to nod, and that’s all it takes for Nanami to shoot hot ropes of cum down your throat, groaning loudly and pulling your hair, forcing you to take him all the way to the base. 

When the last of him is spent, Nanami pulls out of your throat tiredly and flops onto the couch next to you and Satoru. None of you can remember a time in your life you’d cum that hard before, the overwhelming pleasure enough to wake you mostly out of your drunkenness. 

You curl into Nanami, your breath still ragged and your bones reduced to nothingness. Nanami rubs a hand along your back as he catches his own breath, and Satoru gets up to fetch water and a washcloth. 

You tilt your head up to look at Kento with glassy, worn out eyes and a tired smile, “And you said you didn’t even wanna come to this ‘stupid party.’” 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. You’re lucky you’re irresistible, you little minx. Made this night interesting for all of us.”

i literally wrote this at work i don't even know what came over me. did not plan this or even think about it before words started pouring out of me. didn't even plan on including nanami hair pulling but what is a girl to do after the new episode ??? n e ways hope you all enjoyed as much as i do :3

commissions open!

[myths-tournaments]

Awful Characters Semi-finals (1/2)

Propaganda under the cut!

IANTHE TRIDENTARIUS

Her number one hobby is ruining every person's that she knows life. Her second hobby is being soooo slutty about it despite looking like a literal wet rat. Her third hobby is having an extremely unhealthy relationship with her twin. Her other hobbies include cannibalism, wearing a maid outfit, being extremely convinced she is the main character, the badboy sexy love interest and the villain. 'Why', you may ask. Well, the answer is, for shits and giggles #justgirlythings i, aswell as literally everybody else in the fandom have gone through the pipeline from hating her to desperately wanting to fuck her. expect for i still fucking hope she dies and doesn't come back for good. (that would literally solve all of everybody's problems) as god intended (EXPECT FOR. one of her hobbies literally is gaslighting god) She is fucking horrible i will love her until i die and even after that

parks and recs jean ralphio voice she's the woooorst!! The moment she learns she has to kill someone to become a Lyctor (aka a more special necromancer), she doesn't hesitate to kill and cannibalize the guy who has been her cavalier since childhood… cavalier who she also totally bullied as kids, she was allowed to choose one guest for her and her twin sister's birthday party each year, and she would always pick whoever she thought her cavalier didn't want to see there! While other characters are shown to regret the process of becoming a Lyctor (which involves someone close to them dying)/were forced into it because of circumstances, Ianthe has absolutely no regrets, she believes she did what she had to do

The author once said of Ianthe: "I don't think she's been nice to anyone, if she has I'll go back and change it." She killed and ate the soul of someone she has known all her life so that she could become a necromantic saint and tormented him plenty before that. General negging, ganging up against him, always inviting people he didn't like to their birthday parties. She doesn't regret killing him. I think she is repulsed by the idea that his digested soul is affecting hers. She helped her crush lobotomise herself so she would be in Ianthe's debt, and later lied and said she didn't see the corpse of a woman her crush killed under her bed (why did she do that? I do not know). She has a bone arm because her original arm was cut off, she hated the replacement so her crush cut THAT off and grew her a new one out of just bones. She had it gilded and only after that did she decide to help her crush deal with the person who had been repeatedly trying to kill her. She wants so badly to be the main character but people keep interrupting her villain monologues.

she has her own content warning tag

She's such a bitch to everyone all the time, she causes nothing but problems, she tries to do a villain speech but fumbles it because her tummy hurt, she is the awfulgirl of all time

AZULA

Azula explicitly considers herself a monster. She says needlessly cruel things to her brother and friends. She kills the show's twelve-year-old protagonist and masterminds the idea of burning down the entire Earth Kingdom to force them to submit to Fire Nation rule. I have absolutely seen people get called abuse apologists for thinking she's a cool character. But she's also a (canonically) mentally ill fourteen-year-old who was raised by her father to see her ability to be weaponized as her only value. Her mother, arguably the only adult in her life who could have had a positive impact, had a strained relationship with her because she was more difficult than her brother, and then disappeared when she was nine. Her uncle, who was her brother's main healthy role model, took absolutely no interest in her. She watched her father belittle her brother for years and eventually throw him away when he failed to meet his expectations, so that was a threat she was always facing. She really had no chance. And she also has moments that suggest she wants some sort of meaningful connection with another person. She lets her brother take credit for killing the Avatar so he can come back from exile, even though it means she'll be bumped back in the order of succession and offers him advice that seems genuine. Her spiral into a mental breakdown starts when her friends betray her. She's just a much more interesting and multifaceted than a lot of the fandom gives her credit for.

[gloomwitchwrites]

High Stakes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: canon-typical swearing, mando’a lanaguge, yearning, denial of feelings, placing bets, light dom/sub (with bratty behavior), possessive behavior, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 7k

When your employer loses a bet to Jabba the Hutt's favorite contract killer, Boba Fett, you are suddenly placed in his control. But you and Boba are not enemies. The two of you have known each other for a while now, and this only pushes the two of you closer together.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart mesh’ika – little beauty mesh’la – beautiful

The artificial air kicks in and its refreshing coldness brushes against your neck. You sigh heavily, appreciating the luxury that few establishments have in Mos Espa. Not even Jabba’s Palace can boast to having such a feature.

Glancing over your shoulder, the rest of the room begins to melt into smoky shadow. The large shutters over the windows start to shift downward to ward off the light and heat from Tatooine’s twin suns. They stop two-thirds of the way, allowing for natural light but shrouding Tranquil Sands in shadow. The small lamps at each of the tables turn on, giving the place an intimate glow. In the far corner, the band changes up their song, and spice smoke from hookah pipes fills the air.

It might be the middle of the day, but Tranquil Sands is full. It always is.

Need a drink? Tranquil Sands has a full-service bar.

Want to spend all your money gambling? Tranquil Sands has all the best tables.

Do you desire more carnal pleasures? Tranquil Sands can provide.

Or are you simply wanting a place to rest your head? At Tranquil Sands, there are plenty of beds.

Tranquil Sands has it all.

And you are its bookkeeper.

Lady Sheku, a beautiful Twi’lek female with peachy skin, is the owner of Tranquil Sands. You’ve been keeping her books for several years. The two of you have grown close over time, forming a subtle friendship built on mutual respect.

Trust is important for something like this. You work closely tracking every credit and form of currency that enters or exits this establishment. It’s not just to ensure that proper dues are paid out to Jabba, but to be as transparent as possible for when—not if—the Empire comes knocking.

“Is everything in order?” asks a sultry voice.

You spin around just as Lady Sheku approaches. The Twi’lek is gorgeous, and she doesn’t even try. Many with money on Tatooine show it off, but Lady Sheku is all gentle elegance.

“As it always is,” you reply, knowing exactly what she’s referring to.

Today is payment day. Today is the day that Jabba the Hutt receives the protection dues from Tranquil Sands. But it isn’t Jabba who fetches it, nor is it his loathsome second Bib Fortuna. It’s Jabba the Hutt’s favorite bounty hunter, Boba Fett, that comes calling.

He is always on time. Never misses a single payment.

“You look lovely today,” murmurs Lady Sheku, her brow rising slightly as she admires your outfit.

When out on the floor, you have to look like you belong, not like you sit in a backroom all day hunched over ledgers. Yet you also cannot look like any of the workers. That might give some guests the wrong impression, and the last thing you need is a misunderstanding out in the open. You’ve opted for black, a color none of the workers wear. They prefer brighter colors, and the ones for pleasure purchases are even brighter with golden bangles and necklaces. You’ve gone completely bare other than the thin black fabric that hangs on your body.

“Thank you,” you reply.

Lady Sheku leans in, her voice dropping even lower. “It can’t be because a certain bounty hunter is coming today?”

“No,” you answer automatically, but it’s not entirely a lie.

Boba Fett is sweet on you, and everyone knows it. You are the one who interacts with him, who hands over the credits, who makes sure Jabba is paid and satisfied. Boba Fett is the man between, and yet he is enticing. A flavor of spice you cannot seem to shake.

But no matter how much attention he gives you; it simply isn’t possible. The two of you cannot be together. Boba Fett is a bounty hunter. He wears Mandalorian armor. He works for Jabba the Hutt. Everyone knows how deadly Boba is, that he’d rather vaporize his bounties than bring them in alive. A man like that makes enemies, and you’d be first on the list if they plan on targeting him.

“Liar,” teases Lady Sheku, waving her hand dismissively.

As if speaking his name summons him, Boba Fett enters through the front doors. For a moment, all conversation ceases, even the music seems distant. His helmeted head swivels, scanning the room. When it lands on you, everything stutters before hurtling forward. He takes one step, then another, and then he’s moving toward you with purpose embedded into every slap of his boots against the marble.

“Boba Fett,” greets Lady Sheku, her head dipping slightly with acknowledgement. You do the same, knowing it’s better to show respect to one of Jabba’s favorite contract killers.

When your gaze returns to him, the T-shaped visor is aimed at you. Though you cannot see his eyes, you feel his stare. It brands your skin, peeling back the flesh to reveal your deepest secrets.

“Everything is in order,” you say, keeping your tone neutral. “The credits are in the back if you’ll follow me.” You shift and raise an arm, indicating the backroom you and Boba always meet in to make the exchange.

Boba shifts in your direction but Lady Sheku raises a hand. “A moment. Please.”

He pauses, and you drop your hand back to your side slowly, unsure of why Lady Sheku is delaying the proceedings.

“I have a proposal for you. An offer, if you will.” Lady Sheku’s shoulders shake a bit as she straightens her spine. Boba says nothing but inclines his head. “You never partake in anything we offer here at Tranquil Sands. As the proprietor of this fine establishment, I’d like to know what I can do to make you a loyal customer.”

You keep your face completely blank even as your mind races. Why is Lady Sheku asking this now? There isn’t any reason to delay. All the credits are there. In fact, there is plenty, so why make him wait? Why make you wait?

Boba Fett considers Lady Sheku’s question for a moment before he answers. “What I want isn’t on the menu.”

What I want isn’t on the menu.

When Boba says this, his helmet is turned in your direction, the T-shaped visor pinning you to the spot. Lady Sheku grins, her gaze subtly shifting between you and Boba.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” shrugs Lady Sheku. “For a price.”

Is she really selling you to him? You’re not a slave. You’re an employee.

You’re about to protest, the words forming on the tip of your tongue, but Lady Sheku gives you a look that silences you completely.

Trust me, it says.

Boba inclines his head. “I’m listening.”

“Wonderful!” Lady Sheku claps her hands together. “Let’s make a game of it. Shall we?” Placing one hand on Boba Fett’s upper arm, she guides him over to the gambling corner. Boba allows himself to be led and you follow right behind him, tension tight in your stomach.

“A wager,” says Lady Sheku. “If I win, you pay a portion of the protection money. If you win, you can have the woman you want for the evening. She will be…yours. Completely.”

“Lady—” you begin but Boba cuts in.

“What game?” he asks.

“Cards.” Lady Sheku gestures toward one of the tables.

“Sabacc?”

“Afraid, Boba?” teases Lady Sheku.

“Hardly. Let’s play.”

The two of them sit down at the nearest table. You stand there in shock, your feet unable to move. A droid dealer approaches, shuffling the cards, and still, you do not move. Others begin to press in, watching on as cards are dealt.

You want to rage, to curse everyone and everything, and yet, at your core, you’re not entirely angry. Lady Sheku has stepped over the line, crossed into territory that is blurry and wrong, but she’s not doing it for her own gain.

Everyone knows how sweet Boba is on you, how he always stands close whenever he’s near you, or how he compliments you at every visit. Even when he goes to the backroom with you, Boba is a complete gentleman. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t disrespect your boundaries. None of that accounts for all the gifts that arrive at Tranquil Sands’ doors. The ones for you never have a name on them, but it’s easy to guess who they’re from.

Something solidifies in your soul, and you take a step forward. A crowd has gathered, eager eyes watching on as the owner of Tranquil Sands and Jabba’s favorite bounty hunter face off over a few rounds of Sabacc.

The air is stagnant, and your gaze is glued to the floor.

Should you look? Should you watch on? Or should you let it be?

Even if Boba wins, you know he’d never hurt you. He has it in him to be cruel and sadistic, but he’s never raised a hand to you. He’s never taken what you haven’t freely offered. In this, if he wins, will Boba remain the same? Do you even want to know?

Kriff it, you think, shoving through the crowd, coming up behind Boba. Just as you squeeze between a Zabrak and Weequay, the crowd gasps. Boba leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, legs spread wide. Lady Sheku appears disappointed but you know her tells.

She glances up, winks, and then stands, sighing loudly. Your gaze falls to the table. Boba’s winning hand stares back at you tauntingly.

“You’ve won, Boba.” Lady Sheku inclines her head, hands spreading wide before her. The crowd around the table begins to disperse, their interest disappearing quickly. “My assistant will make sure you receive Jabba’s payment and then she’s all yours.”

Boba starts to stand and you shoot Lady Sheku a look. The Twi’lek shrugs casually. You’re welcome, she silently mouths before greeting a new wave of customers.

With Boba Fett looming over you, it’s hard not to notice his height and broad shoulders. The Mandalorian armor he wears is worn and dented, the paint chipped and peeling in some places. Yet it only adds to his aura, his sense of strength and power. His helmeted head dips as if he can kiss you through it. For a moment, your face rises as if to meet him, but you back out at the last second.

“This way,” you choke out, taking a step back, gesturing toward the other end of the room.

Boba leans away but he doesn’t create any distance other than that. It isn’t until you start walking that Boba moves, keeping pace with you. At the doors to Lady Sheku’s office, you scan your card and enter with Boba following behind.

“I’d offer you something to drink but this will only take a minute,” you say over your shoulder.

At the massive safe, you enter the code, retrieving the credits in their locked box. Turning around, you set the box down on the table, opening the lid to reveal the credits inside.

“Everything appear satisfactory?” you ask.

Boba doesn’t say anything. It’s infuriating because you don’t know if he’s looking at you or the credits behind that bucket.

“It’s all there. You can count if you—”

“You’re mine,” says Boba, like it’s an indisputable fact.

You take a deep breath, hands balling into fists at your sides. “For the evening,” you amend.

Boba glances down at the credits. He shuts the lid, reengaging the lock. His head tilts and his hand ascends, one finger pressing to the side of his helmet.

“I’ll need a pick up,” he says to someone that clearly isn’t you.

Boba does not pick up the credit case. Instead, he steps around the desk until he’s standing next to you. Reaching out, the back of his gloved hand brushes over bare skin. You feel the ridge of knuckles through the leather.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly.

You nod because you don’t trust yourself to form proper words. Boba’s touch is like a stun wand. Electric but lethal. You are struck, ripped apart, and pieced together. It hurts, not because he’s touching you but because this will end, and the two of you will return to your lives. He is not meant for you. This cannot be more than just the evening.

Lady Sheku meant well by losing, but this might be too much.

Boba drops his hand and plucks the credit case from the desk. “When we return, you’ll sit with me. In my lap.”

His tone is assertive. Boba isn’t asking, and that stirs something inside you. While you like this, you also want to push back. But you’re not quick enough in your response. Boba points in your direction, chastising before you even get a word out.

The two of you stare each other down before Boba curls his finger in and presents his open palm. It’s an invitation instead of an order. While Lady Sheku needs to mind her business, Boba is the man that haunts your dreams. Every interaction with him is a memory that sticks to you like syrup.

Slowly, you extend your own hand, slipping it into his offered palm.

Boba’s hold is gentle as his fingers encase your hand. You allow yourself to be led from the room, to be escorted to a large booth tucked into a private corner. From here, Boba can see the rest of Tranquil Sands. It’s private yet strategic, a habit of any good bounty hunter.

Placing the container of credits on the table, Boba takes a seat in the booth. The cushions are soft and wide. The table in front of it is low to the ground. Boba never let’s go of your hand. He keeps you close, drawing you into his lap.

You fit perfectly there, and the naturalness is startling.

Boba keeps one arm around your lower back for support, his broad hand planted firmly on the curve where your hip and upper thigh meet. You’re tucked against him, leaning into the crook of his arm, one hand resting on his armored chest. With his other hand, Boba guides your legs over his thighs.

“Are you comfortable?” he asks, that same hand running up your thigh, parting fabric until he’s touching bare skin.

“Yes,” you reply softly, a shiver running through you from the contact.

Boba’s answer is a gentle grunt as his hand on your thigh tightens. It’s a possessive hold, and you don’t entirely mind. Around you, patrons move about. Many don’t even glance your way, entirely preoccupied with their own endeavors.

It isn’t long before two Gamorreans enter Tranquil Sands. Between them is a woman in an all-black body suit with cape and cowl. The only visible part of her are her eyes which glow a subtle shade of purple.

“Boba,” she says on her approach.

Boba Fett only nods toward the container of credits. She is swift, fetching the credits and leaving without another glance at you or Boba.

After a few moments of silence, Boba adjusts, and it only draws you closer to him. “Are you upset with me, cyar’ika?”

The question surprises you. “Why would I be upset?”

“Why would you not be? Didn’t ask what you wanted.”

You snort. “Did you even consider what I wanted?”

The answer comes automatically. “No. I want you. And I saw an opportunity,” he says. “But you know that.”

You do know. You’ve known for over a year now and so does everyone else. Whenever Boba walks in, Lady Sheku and all the workers immediately look at you with amusement on their faces. Boba might not be overt in his attentions, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t gone unnoticed.

“What’s your plan, Boba? To lure me in? To convince me I should be yours?” You’re pushing him, feeling bold, but how could you not be? You’re in his lap, almost straddling him, and Boba’s hands are everywhere even though they’ve hardly moved at all.

Boba inclines his head. “You’re already mine. Always have been.”

“You don’t own me,” you murmur.

Boba’s silence is deafening, and you have no idea what it means. You desperately wish you could see his face, to look into his eyes and glimpse even a semblance of understanding. That silence is all there is because the matter is done the moment the doors of Tranquil Sands open.

Boba is all business after. He shifts you out of his lap, having you sit beside him instead like a pretty thing on display. But Boba keeps one hand on your inner thigh as he conversers, never removing it even when you adjust against the cushions.

Strangely, Boba never removes his helmet. Whenever he comes to retrieve Jabba’s payment, Boba almost always removes his helmet in front of you. But that has always been in a private setting behind closed doors. This is out in the open.

He orders food and drink, offering it to his guests as much as he offers it to you, and yet taking none for himself. You remain quiet, listening attentively but mostly staying out of it. Boba doesn’t ask for your input, and the various individuals seem to understand that you are off limits.

It isn’t until Tatooine’s suns begin to descend that Boba shifts gears.

“We’re going upstairs.”

Upstairs. The only thing upstairs are rooms. Rooms to sleep. To rest. To—

Your heart thunders in your chest. Excitement rushes in along with an underlying nervousness you can’t entirely place. It’s not geared toward Boba. He’d never hurt you, never push himself on you. No. This nervousness is a questioning of whether or not he’ll accept your advances if you give them.

It's a silly thing to question. Boba likes you. He’s smitten, willing to pay an entire month’s worth of protection money just to have the chance to be with you.

Boba stands and presents his hand. You take it, and he helps you to your feet, but he doesn’t drag you to the lift. He stays right there, towering over you, his free hand grasping your waist.

“What is it?” you ask, gaze roaming over the room in one quick sweep before returning to Boba.

“Do you want this?”

You blink, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Boba?”

“Do you want this?” he repeats. “With me?”

When you don’t answer right away, Boba gently squeezes your waist. “Give the word and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Boba—”

“If you wish to leave, tell me now.”

You swallow. “Does this mean I can’t go if I change my mind?”

Boba’s chest heaves. “No. You can always go. You can always walk away. I won’t stop you.”

Even though Boba played Sabacc with Lady Sheku in order to possess you, he is still giving you a choice. This is up to you. Boba has already made it clear what he wants. All you need to do is accept him, or walk away.

“I don’t want to go,” you breathe, knowing with these words you’ve changed your future forever.

There is no going back. No reversal. You are confirming what you already know and what he’s suspected. You want him.

Boba’s hand slips away from your waist only to travel downward to grasp the back of your thigh. This one touch makes you inhale sharply, and the soft chuckle Boba makes sends heat straight to your core.

“My mesh’ika,” he croons.

Boba keeps using these words you don’t know. You can take a guess as to their meaning. He’s used them before but only in private. Only when you’ve allowed him a passing touch before you depart.

Now, with his hand massaging the back of your thigh, the meaning is clear to you. And this place is far too public for such affection.

“Upstairs,” he murmurs, his voice so soft you’re surprised the voice receiver in the helmet even picks it up.

Boba’s hand disappears from your thigh, leaving an emptiness behind. You long to draw him back to you and indulge in his touch.

The ascent to the room is sluggish, and yet with a blink, you’re at the door. You cling to Boba’s armor-clad arm as the door slides open, and Boba guides you into the dark. The moment the two of you cross the threshold, a lamp near the window clicks on.

This is one of Tranquil Sands’ suites.

You enter into a small sitting area with a lounge sofa and low table. The curtains are closed, keeping out the light of Tatooine’s suns. To the right are sliding double doors. They stand open, revealing a large bed. The door to the bathroom is through there but you cannot see it from where you’re standing.

Boba releases your hand, and you are reluctant to let him go. He presses a few buttons on the control panel near the door. More lights turn on. It is dim—almost intimate—and all you want to do is reach out to him.

This is just for the evening. Only for the night. Then it’ll be over. You will return to your books, and Boba will be the vicious bounty hunter he has always been. He will come for Jabba’s payment, and you will hand it over, never meeting until the time to return rolls around again.

Hesitantly, you stride forward into the middle of the room. With hands clasped in front of you, you turn in Boba’s direction, only to find him within arm’s reach.

The two of you stare at each other, not speaking, hardly breathing.

With an aching slowness, Boba reaches up with both hands, clasping the sides of his helmet. You hear the hiss of the seal releasing, and then it’s gone, revealing his face. This is not a surprise. It’s no gut-punch. Boba’s face is one you’ve seen before, but this is not a business exchange. This is personal.

Boba moves past you and gently sets his helmet down on the table. He is right there, and when he straightens to undo his leather gloves, your hand finds his bicep, resting where there is no armor. His dark eyes swivel towards you, and you have the urge to run your fingers through his hair. It looks so soft and inviting—just long enough to give it a little tug.

He removes one glove and then the other, tossing them onto the table next to his helmet. Your eyes track every movement, the casualness of Boba’s undressing a mesmerizing dance. You cannot look away.

“You’re staring, cyar’ika,” muses Boba, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You cough, and discreetly check for drool. “Want me to stop?” you shrug. “I can do that?”

“No.” Boba’s tone startles you, but it is his hand on the back of your neck that truly makes your stomach flip. He drags you against him, and your hands instinctually rise, pressing against his chestplate.

His dark gaze is sharp. Piercing. “Draw me a bath, cyar’ika.” Your lips part and Boba’s gaze drops momentarily before returning to your eyes. His grip on the back of your neck tightens a bit before releasing.

“Go,” he says, voice husky and rough. “Before I get dirt on that pretty dress.”

Heat rushes up your spine and flares hot in your cheeks. Pressing a hand to your burning face, you quickly enter the bathroom. Built into the wall is a massive tub. It’s all smooth, clean lines and easily fits two.

“Kriffing hell,” you murmur at the ceiling. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart.

Shaking your hands out at your sides to release some of the giddy nervousness, you reach for the small panel in the wall. Hot water begins to emerge from the faucet. Pressing a few more buttons bring forth an aromatic aroma, and the water starts to turn sudsy.

It looks inviting. Entirely heavenly.

Water is a heavily sought-after resource on Tatooine, but Lady Sheku has connections, often transporting water in from off world. It’s expensive but it supplements what can be purchased on Tatooine.

You pause, hearing soft footsteps. Turning, your eyes widen, and the heat that you banished from your cheeks returns. You quickly look away as Boba’s nude body brushes past you and steps over the edge of the tub to slide into the water.

Boba sighs heavily, and the sound goes straight to your sex. It’s contentment and satisfaction, and you want to know if that’s what he sounds like when he’s buried deep.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” you say, keeping your gaze averted. But as you turn to leave, Boba reaches out, his wet hand grasping your wrist.

“You’ll stay,” he commands, releasing your wrist to tap the side of the tub. “Right here. Where I can look at you.”

Slowly, you ease down on the edge of the tub. It’s not entirely uncomfortable. It is wide and flat, large enough for you to sit without sliding onto the floor and into Boba’s lap. You place one hand behind you, and one on your knee to keep balance. Boba submerges himself a bit more, the water coming up to the middle of his chest.

“You look lovely today,” he murmurs, gaze roaming up and down your body in appreciation.

“Thank you,” you reply. “Am I not lovely to you every time you see me?”

Boba smirks. “You are. And even when I don’t see you.”

“Oh,” you whisper, fingers playing with one of the gauzy, black strands of fabric.

It’s loose enough that the material spreads out and hangs toward the floor, revealing plenty of bare leg. Boba’s hand is nearby but not touching. Yet his fingers flex like he wants to touch you but is resisting the urge to do so.

“Join me,” he rasps, those fidgeting fingers forming a fist.

“Is it a command or an ask?” It doesn’t really matter if he’s asking or demanding. Sliding into that warm water with him is a desire you don’t want to resist. Will you straddle his lap, sitting face to face? Or will Boba want you to recline against him, back pressed against his chest?

Boba’s dark gaze is unmoving when he speaks. “It’s what you wish it to be.”

You swallow and sit up straighter. “Look away.”

Boba laughs, and runs his hands through his hair. It sticks up at an odd angle and you giggle.

“Fine,” he agrees, glancing at the wall, whistling to himself.

Slowly, you stand. You partially give Boba your back as you slip one strap over your shoulder and then the other. You loosen the band at your waist, and then the dress is on the ground, a dark pool of fabric at your feet.

Glancing over your shoulder, you find Boba still turned away, but he’s stiff, almost rigid. That is when you notice your reflection. It is blurry, mostly an outline, but it’s clear that you’re nude.

Turning quickly, you cover your breasts and step into the tub at an odd angle to hide yourself. It’s silly, since you’re already taking this leap, but it’s natural to want to hide yourself. This is new. Different. While you’ve always liked him, this is beyond anything the two of you have engaged in.

A few stolen kisses in a backroom means nothing compared to this.

As you start to sink down, Boba’s head turns. Your gazes lock, and then he’s reaching for you, bringing you against him. He does bring you to a straddling position. Boba guides you around until you’re sitting in his lap, back pressed against his chest and head resting on his shoulder.

The water hardly covers your breasts.

“I want to see all of you,” he murmurs in your ear even as his hands run up and down your thighs, waist, and hips under the water.

The motion stirs the water, revealing your breasts to him. Boba groans against your throat as one of your hands reaches back to rub the back of his neck. While keeping one hand on your thigh, Boba gently cups one breast, lightly pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger.

Your breasts have never been overly sensitive, but Boba’s touch is immense. All-consuming. You’ve never reacted to anyone’s touch like this.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. Boba’s hand beneath the water grasps the inside of your thigh and squeezes. “All mine.”

Boba’s lips trail over your neck and then the curve of your jaw near your ear. You turn your head just enough to look at him, and all trepidation you might have held vanishes. This man is enamored. In rapture.

“Let me kiss you, cyar’ika.”

But you do not let him. Instead of saying yes, instead of agreeing, you’re the one who responds with action. Your lips connect with Boba’s, and it seems to surprise him. At first his lips do not react, but then he’s answering back, kissing deeper. Seeking. Wanting to taste.

You open for him, and Boba moans, his hand upon your breast sliding upward to grasp the front of your throat in a possessive hold.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, cyar’ika?” murmurs Boba against your lips. “Do you know how much I’ve craved you?”

“I thought we were bathing,” you reply, and he smiles. It’s so sweet. Soft. Something you’ve never seen on his face.

“You’re right,” he croons. “We are.”

You’ve never been cleaner. Boba keeps you reclined against him as he scrubs and strokes every inch of your body. He is gentle the entire time, pebbling your throat and lips with soft kisses that has your pussy clenching around nothing.

When you’re refreshed, Boba hands over control, and you are just as thorough. You adjust positions, straddling him. Boba wiggles further into the water, leaning back entirely, one arm splayed across the back of the tub while the other rests under the water where it rests on your thigh.

Boba never looks away. His gaze is always on you. There is a dreamy, happy quality to it, like he can’t believe you are truly here with him.

“You’re clean,” you say, twisting out the excess water from the handcloth. You set it aside just as Boba releases the valve for the water to drain.

You start to stand but Boba grabs your waist, drawing you back into his lap. Words begin to form on your lips, but Boba is quick, silencing whatever you wanted to say with a kiss.

“Can I take you to bed?” he asks, drawing back enough to stare into your face.

The water is quickly disappearing, and the sudden rush of air prickles your skin.

“You can have whatever you want,” you answer, and Boba’s grip on your waist tightens.

“And what if I want you on your back, hm?” he prompts. “Would you spread you legs for me?” He leans in for another kiss. This one is chaste. Quick. “Would you let me in, cyar’ika?”

Would you let me in, cyar’ika?

You have to bite back a moan. You’ll give this man anything.

“Dry me off and find out.”

With a swiftness that has you grabbing on to the back of Boba’s neck, he manages to lift you and step onto the bathroom floor in open fluid movement. He holds you in the air like that, and you pretend not to notice his hard as it presses against your inner thigh.

Slowly, Boba eases you to the ground, but he doesn’t let go. Keeping one arm around your waist, Boba snags a towel from the shelf. It is clean and white. Freshly laundered. He drapes it over your shoulders and you find the edges, bringing it in. Boba grabs another for himself.

You start with your ears and throat, then the rest of your body before drying your hair enough that it’s slightly damp. Boba is much faster than you, and he does nothing to help, only watches. Admires. It’s far too intimate, and you keep glancing away, smiling like a kriffing idiot.

“What?” you laugh, and Boba returns the smile.

He gently grabs hold of the towel and you release it to him, leaving you completely bare. The towel falls from his hands, and then Boba is grasping your hips, walking you backward into the dimly lit bedroom.

Boba comes to a halt when the backs of your legs hit the edge of the bed. Keeping one hand on your hip, his other hand grasps the side of your throat, titling your head back a bit as his mouth meets yours in a searing kiss.

Heat is everywhere. It burns beneath your skin, soaring outward until you’re pushing up onto your toes in an attempt to draw closer. Boba is all eagerness. All hunger. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pause for air. He is devouring and you want to be consumed by him.

“I want to taste you,” he says between kisses.

When he leans in for more, you pull back, giggling. “You are.”

“No,” he replies, voice growing husky. “I want to taste you here.”

On here, Boba slips his hand between your legs, fingers gently parting your sex to revealing your slickness. The moment his fingers make contact, Boba growls, and it is a needy sound.

“That is what I want,” he reiterates, and you will not tell him no.

“I told you, Boba. You can have whatever you want.”

Boba withdraws his hand from between your legs. “On your back, love.”

You ease down onto the bed and then lean back on your elbows as you scoot away from the edge. Boba’s fingers brush against the tops of your knees before sliding between, easing your legs apart, guiding them wide so that he can move between them.

His rough, calloused hands are soft brands against your inner thighs. They slide upward toward your sex, only to purposefully pass over it instead to grasp waist and stomach.

Boba adjusts, leaning onto one elbow, his other hand roaming across your skin.

He studies the curve of your hip, the softness of your belly, the places where you think there is too much and not enough. Boba worships it all, leaving nothing untouched.

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod.

Boba’s thumb hovers at your entrance where your slickness pools. He draws some up to your clit. Presses. Swirls. It’s a sharp tug. A sudden burst.

You gasp, back arching slightly as Boba continues to play with that sensitive bump. His fingers aren’t even inside you. And you are falling apart, fingers clawing at his shoulders, hips flexing into his touch as your body clenches. The moan is choked, suppressed. Boba grins against your thigh.

“Good. That’s it, cyar’ika,” he purrs, wrist rotating, his middle finger sliding through your wetness.

He finally adds a finger, begins pumping. Your hips buck, and Boba meets with a thrust of his hand. His thumb on your clit is relentless and it isn’t long before you’re clenching again, this time mewling softly, trying hard to relax but failing completely.

That is when Boba descends. That is when he finally takes his taste.

Boba parts your pussy with a slow swipe of his tongue. He swirls up, teasing your clit with just the tip, and that is enough to make your shake, for your back to come off the bed. Without thought, your hands seek him. One slides through his hair, tangling, twisting, anchoring yourself as your hips roll against his mouth, riding his face.

Boba sucks your clit into his mouth and it’s over. You hear yourself but it seems so distant, like you’re falling into a deep hole. Your thighs clench like you’re trying to trap his head between them, but Boba is strong. Insistent. He keeps spread, forcing you wide again to take his tongue without resistance.

You say his name until your voice grows hoarse and you skin is tingling in the afterglow of pleasure.

Around you, the bed sinks as Boba shifts forward, pushing off his knees, crawling over you until the two of you are face to face. Your chest heaves as you gaze up at the man you’ve always held at a distance. Boba’s lips are slightly parted. In the small slashes of light, you glimpse the glossy shine on his lips.

You reach up and run your thumb across that mess only for Boba to suck that digit into his mouth, wiping you clean of yourself.

Boba is so close, and you arch your neck, seeking his mouth. He gives you what you’re seeking, and everything in you melts, becoming one with his warmth. Your hands slide up his chest and then back down, nails grazing over his skin.

He breaks the kiss, panting. “I need you.”

“You can have me.” It’s a wonder that you’re even able to speak.

Pushing up onto one elbow, Boba grasps your wrists, and then you’re rolling on to your stomach, Boba’s weight heavy at your back. Your arms are above your head, pinned there. With a quick adjustment, Boba shifts your wrists to one hand while the other runs up and down your back in a gentle caress.

“Mesh’la,” he murmurs, and you shiver.

Slowly, Boba releases your wrists, but you do not move them. You hold them above your head, awaiting Boba’s next move. Both hands join, moving lower and lower until his hands are full of you. He squeezes your ass and mutters something under his breath that you’re unable to hear.

Boba’s hands fall to your hips. They adjust, bringing them up off the bed a bit. But Boba does not part your legs. Instead, he tests your entrance with a single finger.

Grunting, he withdraws, and then reaches up, snagging one of the pillows.

“Lift your hips,” he commands. You comply, and Boba slips the pillow beneath your lower abdomen. “Better,” he growls, hands returning to your ass.

The bed sinks as he shifts, and again, Boba does not part your legs. He adjusts the pillow some more, arching your hips a bit higher. His hands slide down to the backs of your thighs, pausing near your pussy. With a little pressure, Boba spreads you a bit, but it’s not nearly as much as you expected.

You push up onto your forearm, twisting a bit to look over your shoulder.

Boba’s gaze meets yours just as the head of his cock finds your entrance. He holds himself there, and then thrusts forward.

You cry out, not from pain but from pure pleasure. The stretch is intolerable but so kriffing good you nearly come undone right then.

Boba retreats, and then returns, each roll of his hips giving you more and more of his cock.

“You’re so kriffing tight, cyar’ika,” he groans, feeding you more until your toes curl from the intrusion.

Boba pauses when he bottoms out, holding himself there as his hands slide up and down your back in a soothing caress.

“How do you feel?” The question is one of genuine concern.

You’re no longer leaning on your forearm. You’ve collapsed, cheek pressed against the bed. “Good, Boba. I’m good.”

Boba rolls his hips again, and the slow drag has you clenching. The whimper that accompanies it arrives unbidden, but it is only one of many.

His thrusts begin slow before becoming steady, each one a claiming. Boba drapes himself over you, his forehead resting against the back of your head, and his hands planted on either side of you. Boba uses that as leverage to drive into you over and over.

You are pinned beneath him, taking everything, and it is delicious. You don’t want him to stop. You want to be claimed. To be possessed. To be known by him.

Boba’s breath is hot against your neck, and the words he mutters are of a language you don’t know. He might be cursing you, praising you, or praying to gods you know nothing about.

It isn’t until Boba’s thrusts become quick and erratic that his mind seems to return to you. Keeping one hand anchored to the bed, Boba uses his other hand to tangle his fingers in your hair. Without hurting you, he turns your head just enough to look into your eyes.

“Let me come inside you, cyar’ika.”

“Boba,” you groan as he grinds his hips against you.

“Please,” he begs.

Boba slows his thrusts, awaiting your answer.

You start nodding, but Boba shakes his head like it isn’t enough. “I need words. I need to hear you say it.”

He lightly tugs on your hair and you moan your answer loudly. “Yes.”

Boba’s grip on your hair releases, and your head drops back to the bed. In his end, Boba is relentless, a pounding pace that drives you into the bed. Your fingers claw at the bedding, everything in your clenching and unclenching, your clip rubbing against the pillow until your own release bursts like stardust.

Boba groans against your throat, and then he stills, pressing down with all his weight, burying himself to the hilt. You don’t even care how messy this will be. You only care about how his arms start to go around you. How he completely drapes himself across you like a blanket. How he whispers your name between kisses to the space between your shoulder blades.

Adjusting some of his weight off of you, Boba grasps the front of your throat, and then you’re looking at each other.

“How many more times can I have you tonight?” he muses, lips curling into a smile.

“We should take what we can. Before we depart. Return to our lives,” you answer.

“You think I’m letting you go, cyar’ika?” counters Boba.

You shift to see him better. “Isn’t that what has to happen?”

 Boba’s mouth forms in a wide grin. “No. You might return to your books, but when I come calling, I expect to be treated like this.” He lightly thrusts, and you whimper. He’s growing hard again. Needy.

“Boba,” you groan, arching into him.

He kisses your shoulder. Kisses the dip and then your throat. “I’m never letting you go, cyar’ika.”

taglist:

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[twisted-tales-of-all]

Stray Kids Reacts to their Partner's Death Scene

Plot: You're an actor, and you've landed a role where your character ends up dying - a first in your career. You watch the movie with your boyfriend and gauge their reaction. Pairing: Stray Kids x gender-ambiguous!actor!Reader Total Word Count: 1.4K Tropes: idol!AU, actor!AU, established relationship, reactions Contains: death of reader's character, various shows of anger, pouting, hurt/comfort(?), cuddles and/or implication of cuddles, teasing A/N: Follow up to the ATEEZ version, which you can find here. Special thanks to connected storyteller Haru (@umbralhelwolf) for suggesting/requesting these ideas a while back.

Bangchan - Head over heels for his lover, he'd ask so many questions about the film as soon as you get the role. But, no matter how much he knows, he'll sit with you and watch intently. He's likely to make small comments on design and direction if he likes it, even if only slightly. Oh boy, when you're on screen, though. Heart-eyes, that bright twinkle, an ear-to-ear smile - man is in love with everything about you. And that's exactly why you didn't tell him that your character gets killed towards the end. Even if you're the main character's best friend and all of the audience is attached to you, you don't have the plot armor to live through the movie. When your boyfriend figures this out, he jumps to his feet with his head on a swivel between you and the screen. Laughing at his reaction, you pause the movie and let him rant about the betrayal of killing off the most loved side character, with small interjections about how believable your acting has become.

Lee Know - Mostly just enjoying a new slasher movie, he forgets that you're in it until he sees your first on-screen appearance around midway through the film. Suddenly, you watch his interest pique, like a dog hearing the word 'treat' or a cat hearing the can opener. Although he doesn't speak much during the movie, you know him well enough to read his body language. Seeing how much he clings to your character, you almost feel guilty as their death nears. In a dramatic chase, your character accidentally falls into a trap set for the killer, giving the killer a perfect opportunity to kill them off. Even if the death happens off-screen, Minho's reaction to your desperate screams for help hurts you. He tenses, knuckles white as he balls his hands into fists. You rub his back to keep him calm, and he resists reacting until the ending credits roll. He pouts about killing off his favorite character, especially making it someone else's fault entirely. He'll insist on rewriting it and doing it the "right" way, but you both know he's only joking around as an excuse to compliment your skills.

Changbin - Excited that you asked him to come with you to the premiere in theatres, Changbin dons a nice outfit that matches yours and follows your lead. It's the first big-name movie you star in, so he's excited to experience it with you, especially since you have a bigger role in a satirical horror film. He has no idea what to expect, so he has big reactions all night. By your death, he caught onto the theme of killing off the main characters - in stark contrast to normally killing off the side characters in other horror films - so he expected the death and chose to zone in on your acting. The death, however, isn't where his reactions are best; the ending, where everyone revives after the curse breaks, gets a strong reaction out of him. He finds your zombified acting adorable and lovingly teases you about it for days.

Hyunjin - Jumpy baby only agreed to watch your film in the safety of a blanket burrito, armed with snacks that wouldn't cause a mess when jumpscares inevitably startle him. Although there are plenty of classicly-timed scares in your slasher, he never adjusts. Half the time, he doesn't even know when you're on screen since he's hiding his eyes so often, but when he sees you, he calms down a bit. It's funny since you're a villain, but it's nice to know that your presence calms him - no matter the situation. Teaming up with the killer gets you through most of the film, but the others eventually figure out your stance and bait the killer into getting you. Hyunjin, only loosely following the plot, feels betrayed by the group and insists that they could've approached your character better than simply presenting them with death. He also picks apart the killer's lack of loyalty - as if the character isn't a total psychopath. After the movie, he urges you to choose a softer script next time, as he wants to enjoy your acting more without the threat of your character's death.

Han - As a fan of horror movies, he predicts your death from the moment he figures out that you play the main character's love interest. Although you pout about him analyzing your film, he insists that he'll still love seeing the movie, even if he knows what happens. As you continue watching, you find Jisung leaning forward whenever you're on screen. This is especially true during your death scene, as he interlaces his fingers and uses them to cover his face, leaving room for his eyes regardless. He doesn't want to watch you die but admits that your acting is too good to look away. After you're erased from the remainder of the movie, he chooses to talk about your acting instead of watching the movie as closely as before. Through his compliments, he admits that you might be made for roles involving death, as he found that scene to be one of his favorites.

Felix - Although he's excited, the jumpscares require cuddles. He encouraged you to try a new genre when you felt a bit off about work, so he's glad that you had fun filming horror, but his excitement and anxiety melt together as he sits down to watch. Luckily, the film doesn't play with too many jumpscares, so he can watch in your arms without much issue. When your death scene approaches, you feel his grip around your arm tighten. He uses your arms as a barrier, shielding his eyes from the scene. Reaching for the remote to pause, he pouts about not warning him about the plot point.

"Your acting is too realistic for me to watch something like that!"

He'll scold and ask whether the plan was to make him cry. If you bring up his sadder parts in music videos, he'll insist that his acting isn't as good as yours so it isn't the same. His reaction will wordlessly beg for cuddles for the remainder of the night - which, of course, you easily comply with.

Seungmin - As he sits down, he jokes about how it can't be too scary if you have the second lead - poking fun at you like normal. Brushing him off with a quick response, you play the movie and ensure subtitles are on. As the movie progresses, you find your boyfriend holding your hand in his lap, squeezing during scares or intense moments. You can't help but smirk at how scared he seems after his claim before the movie started. When you're backed into a corner by the killer, the suspense has Seungmin on edge; it almost feels like he'll crush your hand with his. He doesn't react much outwardly, but after the movie, he talks about having to join you in movies next time, saying that you'll be a lead couple in a romance film. He never says it outright, but all of his comments are his roundabout admission that he loves your acting - especially when he comments on how he would've thought you really died if you weren't there with him. You make sure to comment on the fact that you nearly lost a hand watching with him, making him more dangerous than the movie's filming.

I.N. - He's seen your acting plenty of times, and he always compares you to big-name actors. He is your biggest fan, so of course you bring him to the opening night of the first film where you play the main character. You didn't tell him anything about it and even hid the trailer away from him, so he didn't know he'd be walking into a paranormal thriller. However, he expected to be okay - you're the main character, after all, so you have plot armor. So he thought. After a dozen or so close calls, the end of the movie nears. In the final scene, the creature drives everyone insane, resulting in the main character driving themselves into a ravine. Although uncertain of the outcome, he turns to you with wide eyes, clearly asking for an explanation. When you leave the theatre, he rants about how they can kill off the main character, wondering how they plan to make a sequel or anything related to the film. You assure him that you might not have died, but he continues ranting about them killing you off, not stopping until you interrupt him and distract him with a kiss.

[mahou-furbies]

Closing thoughts on Magia Record Scene 0

Scene 0 has finally ended! Or the translation I've been following has been completed. To those who don't know, it tells the Madoka Magica story, but the point of view of a new character Mabayu, who for some reason keeps her memory through Homura's time loops and can move while time is stopped. And since we all know how the Madoka plot goes (right?), the main story here is the mystery of Mabayu having lost her memory of why she is already a magical girl.

(spoilers)

First things first, the whole premise conflicts with what I think is one of the core points of the Madoka Magica drama, that is, how Homura had to do her thankless time looping job all alone and became increasingly isolated because of it. But here it's "revealed" that she had a buddy all along, with whom she became very close friends and who is eventually cast as the reason why Homura is able to keep going on in the first place. The whole thing considerably waters down her devotion to Madoka, when most of the story is about how she bonds with Mabayu. And then there's also the inherent awkwardness of inserting a brand new nobody to the story you already know, to whom the characters you've known for a decade become the side cast.

Then again, that is the premise, so you just have to make peace with it if you want to enjoy the story at all. And in fact I like Mabayu a lot, so I'll take it, though I'll have to consider everything a non-canon super AU (even within the canon's actual AUs). There was also the other problem though that some of the stuff was kind of fanservicey, and not in the horny way but in the superficial "let's put the whole cast in maid outfits for no particular reason" way. But I was a fan of some of it, like Nagisa being un-witched in one time loop, so fine.

I don't know how much this is about what the story actually is and how much should be blamed on me not paying enough attention, but in the end I think there's still plenty of holes in the story. Like we learned how Mabayu became a magical girl and what how her personal magic power works, but I didn't understand how her memory doesn't reset through the time loops and why she can move when Homura stops the time. Also the way she erased other characters' memories was inconsistent, she had to cut Sayaka's memory all over again in each loop, but when she cut Mami's, the effect was carried to the next loop. And I guess it was explained how the final resolution worked (duh) but I don't think I quite understood.

That's a lot of complaints but I did have a decent time with this actually, and that is because I really like Mabayu. She's the kind of character I'd really like to see more in magical girl stories: low energy, kind of lazy and self serving, passive and loner but not in an edgy way, and it was interesting to see her grow to be more heroic. She also has a lovely voice, and it turns out the same actor also did Ha-chan whose voice is also great. She also had really good dynamics with the main cast, and I especially like growing friendship between her and Homura, they had good banter with Homura being super serious all the time, and their growing friendship was touching. And she had some interesting stuff going on with Sayaka and Mami too.

And while I complained about the whole premise being about rewriting canon, I also think there were some worthwhile additions. For example in this version Mami used to recruit other girls to become magical girls with Mabayu, and the guilt from that is a major reason for her breakdown when she learns the truth about witches. On one hand I prefer the version of a seemingly strong character actually being weak and emotionally unstable, like she's been through a lot and doesn't need a more noble reason for her breakdown, but I think the Scene 0 version is also interesting.

Ultimately the ending left me somewhat sour with how inconclusive it was. Mabayu cut herself from everyone's memories (including her own), but it feels like there's a ton of stuff about her that's not resolved. Like she's still able to move during Homura's stopped time and doesn't understand why, she's still a magical girl even if she doesn't remember it, becoming friends with Mami again doesn't lead much anywhere if she's going to die to Charlotte in a few days… If the idea is the bittersweet knowledge that Mabayu made a difference in the Homura-Madoka story but nobody can remember it, it doesn't work for me since I didn't really get what her contribution was. Or I guess it was pretty clear how important Mabayu's presence was for keeping Homura sane through all the failed time loops but that was like my number one issue with the premise, so maybe I'm just incompatible with the whole story to begin with.

Still I had a good time following this as the translations came out, I was eager to see where the plot would go and watching a short video every few days didn't require that much from me. Though I do think the story was too long for its own good and especially the early loops could have been condensed.

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Two

FROTTAGE / SEXUAL FRUSTRATION / VIRGINITY

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After a conscious decision to stop dating, your friend invites you to fight night where more than one person catches your eye.

Rating: 12A?

Warnings: Mentions of dating/bad relationships, allusions to a non-monogamous relationship, language, drinking, teeny bit of masturbation, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.4k

Notes: When @absurdthirst announced their Kinktober 2023 list, I actually got inspired to start writing and I’m now taking the plunge by posting them online. It’s been a few years since I wrote smut so bear with me. If there is anything spoken in italics, it’s Santiago or Francisco speaking in Spanish, I didn’t want to just Google translate and butcher it. My brain also didn’t do this in numerical order hence why there is no Day 01 though this story seemed more of a fitting start.

I may not complete the entire list so be ready for sporadic updates, enjoy!

The story of how you ended up in an open relationship with four, rather handsome guys was a simple one.

You were lonely and horny but also indecisive.

Your notable chastity came after a series of shitty relationships and dates with men. After being ghosted, catfished and caught up in a quick partnership with a toxic dom, you had pretty much given up on the male species. Except, once a few months had passed, the sexual urge came back, you couldn’t fathom the strength to go out and find people but there is only so much a toy can do.

“A cage fight? What are we going to do at a cage fight?”

“I don’t know,” your friend spoke with a tone that indicated she knew something you didn’t. “But there will be plenty of men.”

You roll your eyes, she was desperate to get you back out there, she also knew you well enough to know fighting your sexual nature was soon going to become a struggle and she couldn’t handle the idea of another crap hook up for you.

“Fine.”

That evening you found yourself outside of town, in front of a sorry looking hanger with your friend waiting for the rest of the group, watching the slim picking choices of men. 

“If I wanted a frat boy, I could have just gone to that one bar.”

Your friend scoffed, “Frat boys are not the only option here.”

They weren’t but they seemed to be the better option. 

Every other man you saw, you wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. Amongst the Frat boys was portly bikers who could barely remain on their bikes, those who you could only describe as rednecks and guys so terrifying, the idea of approaching them didn’t even come to the forefront of your mind.

“How long do you think the girls are going to be?”

“Fashionably late,” she shrugs.

“There’s a strong possibility they’ll miss their guy.”

You have flashbacks to when you went to a concert and they arrived so late, they only made it in time for the main act. The pair of you had sworn never to attend anything with them unless you had your tickets and could make your way to the venue without them. Tonight, you were both a little worried about how they’d be when they turned up and in an event like this, they’d stand out in the crowd.

You hugged your frame, bobbing up and down on the balls of your feet.

“Could we just get them to message when they’re here?”

“We’ll give them another 20 minutes.”

The flurry of people thickened and you stood to one side to allow everyone to pass without having to go around you. You were watching the time pass by on your phone when your friend’s announcement interrupted you.

“They’re here.”

“Thank fuck.”

You raise your head, about to look passed the incoming audience when you caught sight of someone.

He has his head ducked low underneath a baseball cap, his outfit in shades of navy and grey, hands stuffed in tight jeans pockets. Under the brim, his brown eyes flicked up to yours like he knew he was being watched. A smile came to his lips, brightening his five o’clock shadow, the moment between you was brief.

He carried on walking and you kept your eyes in front, swallowing as you felt his gaze still on you.

“Are you ok?” Your friend queried.

“I’m fine.”

The temperature rises in your cheeks.

“Uh-huh.”

In the venue, the group of you squeezed into a middle row on one side of the cage. The rest of the girls had already arrived a little bit ‘squiffy’ as they put it and on the second round of drinks, you’d offered to head to the overcrowded bar.

You had spent the evening rejecting offers from all sort of men, the cheesiest chat up lines plugged to you in every kind of way - ‘when do you get in the ring’, ‘what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this’ etcetera, etcetera. Your mystery man was nowhere to be seen and you think he was just a figment of your imagination.

Pushing your way through the throng, you manage to grab onto the trim of the makeshift bar and haul yourself forward. You lean your weight on your elbows and wait patiently for one of the bar staff to finish serving another drunkard.

“So, what’s a little girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The way they said ‘little girl’ made your skin crawl, even the guy next to you clocked your discomfort.

“Out with friends and would rather be left alone, thank you.”

“Aw, come on, I just want to talk.”

“I’d rather not, I’ve had plenty of men try and talk to me tonight and I told them the exact same thing. Please leave me alone.”

There was movement behind you but you thought it best not to make eye contact. You felt the air pass your shoulder as the guy next to you threw up a hand and caught the other man’s wrist that was inches away from your body.

“Hey, she’s already asked you nicely to leave her alone.”

Oh god, was a fight going to start because of you?

The growing tension had your heart pounding and your knuckles became white as you held your nerve.

“Who are you, her boyfriend?”

“If I was, would it stop you harassing her?”

The man behind you mumbled something incoherently before squirming out of the guy’s grip and staggering away.

“Thank you,” you finally look his way, giving him a smile.

He smiled, giving you a gestured nod, “You’re welcome.”

Even in this light, he had baby blue eyes and delicate freckles along his cheek bones. His upper body was wide, holding it’s own against wave after wave of people coming in to wait along the bar.

“You have some pretty quick reflexes, are you sure you’re not meant to be in that cage?”

He laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, not my kind of thing. How about you? That look could have knocked him dead.”

“There’d be a lot bodies on the floor if it worked,” you quip. “I’m here as chaperone to the group of forlorn looking girls waiting for their man.”

His smile broaden, digging dimples into his cheeks.

“And who might that be?”

“Benny Miller,” you shrug.

You’ve been invited to watch him fight but actually have no fucking idea what he looks like, the girls have just been swooning about his ridiculous six pack.

“Really? He’s going to be thrilled.”

“You think?”

“I’m his brother, of course I know.”

You cock your head, eyebrows arching, maybe you could understand the fascination with this fighter if his brother is anything to go by.

“Oh god, how many Millers are there?”

His laugh is contagious.

“Only the two of us. If you count brothers in arms, there’s four.”

You should have guessed with those reflexes he was some sort of military.

Just as you’re about to speak, a bar man appears and he allows you to order your round first, five shots should come quickly. Juggling to get a grip of five tiny plastic glasses in two hands, you flash him another smile.

“Thanks…” You falter, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Will.”

You introduce yourself and thank him again before slipping into the stream of people, excusing and apologising to anyone who got in your way.

“You were gone a while,” you friend said inquisitively after taking a shot of sour cherry flavoured liquor.

You hum, “I got harassed at the bar and Benny Miller’s brother stepped in as my knight in shining armour.”

She laughs, checking quickly to see if the other girls heard.

“What is with you tonight? First that guy at the entrance, now the brother.”

“His name is Will and I haven’t seen that other guy since.”

It was nice to know he wasn’t imaginary.

There were a few rounds before Benny’s, the girls squealing and looking away as two guys beat the living daylight out of each other. They shouldn’t have been there, too much blood, too much violence and too much sweat from the crowd washing over them and it wasn’t like they could talk either.

The break came and as the other girls insisted on another drink, you politely excused yourself to breath some cool outside air.

You refused the offer of a cigarette when you stepped out the doors, eyes flitting to see if there was an empty bench or some patch of grass where you could escape the huddle of people congregating. Wandering around, you found yourself at the side entrance of the hanger, a lone person leaning a brick low barring wall.

There couldn’t be any harm sitting with him, he seemed harmless enough.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man glanced over, brown curls flicking from under his cap.

“Go ahead.”

You side, jumping to rest your ass before taking a massive swing of water from the fountain you’d discovered on your way out.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

“No offence but you don’t seem one for violence.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You look too sweet and innocent,” he shrugged.

You hum, “Who says I’m innocent?”

He laughs, dropping his head before taking a swig of beer, eyes in front of him.

“I apologise.”

“That’s ok, I get what you’re saying, it’s been pretty brutal so far.”

His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, “I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, for the sake of the girls I’m with, I hope Benny Miller don’t get the shit beaten out of him.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t.”

He sounded so sure and that’s when your brain made the connection to what Will said earlier.

“You’re one of his brothers in arms, aren’t you?”

The man leaned back, placing one hand on his thigh, the little target tattoo on his hand stretching. He faced you now with a furrowed brow and parted lips, his eyes dark as you could see his mind working out how you knew.

“I bumped into Will at the bar.”

His expression seemed to soften.

“He told you about me?”

“Not specifically,” you winced, trying not to hurt his feelings. “We just got talking.”

The corners of his lips twitched, “He did mention meeting a pretty girl at the bar.”

You had to look away, your cheeks and chest immediately on fire, a spark that travelled your lower belly, spreading with desire. Will said you were pretty and he just clarified the comment, your friend was right, what is with you tonight?

He was just about to speak until the heavy swing of the door made you jump, he barely moved an inch.

“You better get you ass in here, Benny will lose his shit if you ain’t there to walk him in.”

For a brief moment, you couldn’t see who was attached to the voice but it was smooth.

They step out from behind the door and you saw the edge of a blue bomber jacket and the navy peak of a cap, his soft slopping nose and the five o’clock shadow along his sharp jawline.

Oh no.

It was if he caught something out of the corner of his eye, like he saw his friend and wondered why there was another person sat next to him, who was the other person sat next to him. His one eyebrow was arched, his lip straight until he recognised the face.

“Didn’t I catch your eye earlier?”

“I’m sure it was the other way round,” you remark wittily.

He smiled, nodding, “Agree to disagree.”

“If you say so.”

“Are you going to chat up all my guys tonight?”

He points between you and the other guy.

“I think you’ll find they keep chatting to me.”

He laughs, nodding again.

Both of the men shared a look, understanding each other though no word was exchanged, it was annoying yet somewhat enticing.

You wished you could know what they were thinking.

“Come on, Fish, he’s going on in a couple of minutes.”

He got up from the wall, abandoning the empty cup but he glanced one last time at you.

“Fish?”

“Nickname,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s Frankie to everyone else.”

You tell him your name and he smiles, nodding as he walked away. Frankie pats the other man on the back, stating ‘hermano’ and sauntering away, readjusting his cap before he disappeared into the venue.

Slipping off the wall, you went to say goodbye before he gestured for you to come through the back.

“Thanks.”

The door slammed behind him and he followed you, body unbelievably close, his breath mixing with the heat contained in the hanger.

“So, do I get to know your name?”

Glancing over your shoulder, he still has that soft smile, eyes roaming what was in front of him that caused goosebumps to arrive on your skin.

“No.”

You walked passed rows of lockers and tired wooden benches before he stopped, letting you walk a little further.

“Go to your left and follow the corridor to the double doors.”

You nod, “See you in there?”

His smile grew, “Sure.”

Following his instructions, the corridor felt like it went on for miles, the music muffled through the brickwork, the only sound your shoes squeaking on tiles. You were trying to wrap your head around what was going on, how had you met three guys in one night who all knew each other and seemed, to you anyway, to be caught in your gravitational pull? Or was your friend right, were you just that ridiculously horny after months of your own hand or toys?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before joining civilisation again.

“They wanted to get closer,” your friend said, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t we technically in the splash zone now?”

“D’you think they’re bothered?”

She was right, the rest of the girls were far too gone to even worry about being covered in sweat, beer and possibly blood, all you prayed for is none of them got ahead of themselves and flashed the fighter at the worst time.

After Benny’s name got introduced over the speakers and the match started, you finally saw the other three from the group, distorted opposite by the wire hexagons that followed the cage. Even they were sensible enough to sit several rows back, they cheered and backed Benny the whole way through and when the opportunity arose, fleetingly looked to you.

A heat washed over your body.

“They said this is the way!”

The girls were giggling, tottering up the corridor as fast as they could in heels. You and your other friend held back, mostly to ensure you weren’t connected to the fangirls who were trying to find a battered and bruised man.

You pretended you didn’t know where the locker room was though you were there moments earlier, you couldn’t face the queries from your friend.

“He��ll be in here,” a friend beckons everyone over.

“And I’m out,” you hold your hands up. “I’m not sneaking into the boys locker room.”

“Really? I thought you’d quite like a photographic memory for tonight.”

You shake you head, “I have the internet for that.”

She laughs, nudging your hip.

“I’m just going to see how this all plays out.”

“Sure.”

She pushes you away and you stagger to an empty space on the wall, leaning against it and allowing the cold to spread across you back. Tipping your head back, you close your eyes, taking a breath.

“Don’t want to join your friends.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence.

“Do you always hang round in the shadows?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“I’d rather not be associated with,” you wave a hand. “Their actions.”

He moves to the wall opposite you, copying your stance, his smile curling as he can hear the chaos in the distance.

“You know it’s a shame,” he looked at you through the corner of his eyes. “He would have liked to have met you.”

You scowl, tilting your head.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Will and Fish are quite enamoured with you.”

“And you?”

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing to your head. You were nervous to hear his answer, tongue sweeping over your dry lips and all he could do was smile, breaking eye contact.

“I don’t think you could handle me.”

You hum, “I like a challenge.”

He pursed his lips, cocking his head to one side.

“You look too sweet for me, honey.”

The way he said ‘honey’ was intoxicating, smooth with a hint of his Spanish pronunciation, it made your heart flutter. You push yourself off the wall and take a few steps over to him, folding your arms across your chest, standing tall.

You look him up and down, your expression scrunching, you’d seen someone like him before not exactly like him but they all appear the same.

“Maybe that’s just what you need… A good girl who’ll do as she’s told.”

He turned to face you, eyes almost black and you swallowed. His smile crocked into a smirk, he noticed the falter in your otherwise firm stance. Moving his body close, he leaned forward, hands placed to his hips. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Then give me your phone.”

You do as you’re told, unlocking the screen as you hand it over.

Taking it in one hand, he gives you space and taps away before giving it back. You check the details on the phone.

Santiago Garcia is a new contact.

“Give us a message if you need anything.”

You blinked at the screen then up at him, his face had softened.

“I’ll hold you to that, Santiago.”

He winked and walked away, out of your vision, he shooed the girls away.

—

“So, did ask her?”

The guys had driven to a late night diner after the match, part of Benny’s post match routine was stuffing his face with a load of carbs.

“Not quite,” Santiago took a bite of a fry. “I gave her my number.”

Benny practically made a raspberry noise like a child.

Santiago shook his head, throwing his hands up, “The balls in her court.”

“You should have just asked her.”

Frankie took a swig of his coffee, “This isn’t the kind of thing you just walk up and ask, she would have run a fucking mile.”

Benny pointed with his fork, “This is why I should have done it.”

Frankie burst into laughter, Santiago and Will shaking their heads, he has no fucking idea.

“What?”

“There’s no way she would have taken the offer from you,” Will was trying to contain his laughter, cheeks turning a faint hue of pink. “I trust Pope, the balls in her court now.”

Benny ladled the last of his food onto his fork, “Do you think she’ll bite?”

Santiago was praying to every god that you did even though he was far from religious. This is the first time back since he felt anything, it was unusual that he found himself vying for attention with the other boys.

This was new territory for him and he’s done a lot of shit.

He thinks back to the conversation with you, he didn’t expect what came out of your mouth and it was like the lure of a siren to a sailor. It’s why he reconsidered you as an option. Sure, you cracked a little when he got close yet who wouldn’t and that’s when he guessed you may have seen it before.

His fingers have been twitching to check his phone all night.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.”

And you were laying in bed contemplating whether it was too early to message him.

After the fight, you thought you’d just go home and crash, you thought wrong.

Stripping off, you decided to take a shower to get rid of the grime from the night. You had an idea you were wet, you just didn’t realise how much your arousal had pooled. There was so many factors you could blame - several matches where two sweaty, semi dressed men were in close proximity to each other, three men’s eyes watching you and your eyes met, Santiago centimetres from your face.

The water fell soothing down your skin and you settled two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently. Closing your eyes, you pictured the fine details, the blonde of Will’s hair, the wideness of Frankie’s hand, the musk of Santiago’s aftershave.

You dragged your fingers along your folds, gasping as you sunk them into your burning cunt.

It was embarrassing how quickly you came to the thought of them, you hands reaching for the cool tiles of your bathroom as your legs threatened to give way. Your breath was shaking, your body vibrating as the warmth travelled up your spine.

“Fuck.”

A message popped up on your phone from your friend, hoping that you had a good night, the winking face emoji a hint to the boys. Messaging now seemed desperate, your teeth grazed you lip.

Rolling over, you prayed that sleep would take you.

You decided against messaging Santiago in the morning, you were groggy and unmotivated with suggestions of a possible meet up would fall on deaf ears. It was in the afternoon, after some good food and a walk in the fresh air that you felt ready.

‘And when you say anything, what did you have in mind?’

That was the question that lead you to the bar tonight.

As it was a dive bar, or so you and your friends believed, you didn’t wear anything fancy however it didn’t mean you under dressed. You wore a dress that accentuated the curves of your body, hiding it with an oversized jacket and trainers. Taking a breath, you pushed through the doors, the vision of Santiago stood at the bar ordering.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m fashionably late,” you retort, taking a note out of your friends’ books.

He laughed, “What are you drinking?”

He bought you a drink and you went to join the boys at the table, finally being introduced to Benny.

“I was kind of insulted you didn’t want to meet me but I’ll forgive you.”

The five of you talked about everything and anything, you learned that Frankie was a pilot, Santiago chased cartels for years after being in the military because he couldn’t stand still and the Miller brothers spent their youth on a family farm. After food and another round, Benny decided that it was the perfect time to get the conversation rolling on to why you were here.

“Are we gonna do this or not?”

He was straight to the point.

“Christ, Benny,” Will could have kicked him under the table. “Always thinking with that dick of yours.”

You guessed the implication would be something sexual, you got that from Santiago last night but his text gave you nothing, actually the whole evening gave you nothing. It was just nice to be in the company of four very different yet very attractive men who hadn’t push any boundaries.

Frankie lifted his cap and ran his fingers through brown curls, his focus pulling to Santiago.

“You want to start? You’re better with words.”

It’s also more his kind of thing, is what he left out, but it wasn’t easy.

Your eyes flicked to every man around the table. Frankie couldn’t make eye contact, Benny glanced between you and Santiago while Will seemed to be the calmest of the lot.

“We got talking yesterday about a girl we saw at the fight and it turns out we were talking about the same one. Now, the guys haven’t really done this before, I’ve shared before but not quite like this —“

“Wait, did you just say shared?”

It was alarmingly hot all of the sudden.

“Yes, I did,” he rubbed the scar along his neck.

Frankie chuckled to himself, “I guess there is no easy way of saying it.”

Santiago could see your mind working overtime, the knot in your brows tightening. Your lips opened before you stopped and thought over your words again.

“Do you guys want a five way?”

You wouldn’t complain if they did.

Benny and Santiago’s brows seemingly raised.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Will lowered his tone, closing in on you so his frame blocked the rest of the bar from your vision. “We’re thinking more, we share you out evenly, four ways.”

You blink, tongue running over your dry lips, just the thought alone had settled between your thighs.

“So, a different guy every night?”

“If you want,” Benny chimed in.

Santiago shrugged, “I was thinking more of a weekly schedule.”

That would make sense.

Your mind was processing the concept, it could be good, yet it could also be bad, catastrophically bad. That’s what happened with that dom, they made all these promises, that they’d buy you all these rewards and gifts if you did what they wanted, they never came. They had you running round in circles, doing a load of shit you thought you wanted to do when in actuality, you didn’t. They manipulated you until you finally said no and then they gaslighted you into thinking it was all your fault when it never was.

Could these guys do that too?

“What are you thinking, querida?” Frankie broke through the silence.

“Just the string of bad relationships that came before this,” you take a swig of your drink, catching his puppy dog eyes. “Not that I’m saying this is a bad idea, it’s just…”

You chose your words carefully.

“I’d need to see the terms and conditions.”

He nodded, “That’s fair.”

“I’ll get the papers to you in the morning,” Santiago joked.

“I better not see any spelling mistakes or the deal’s off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Will’s my copywriter.”

You tried to keep the upper hand but you broke, the smile cracking on your lips.

“Sooo, is that a yes?”

Benny’s eyes were darting from person to person, this conversation was too cryptic for him, he wanted a firm answer.

“It’s a maybe.”

He pouted, nodding, “I’m taking that as a positive, celebratory shots on me.”

The rest of the boys groaned as he slipped out of the booth towards the bar, Will apologising for his brother’s enthusiasm given the fact you didn’t give a solid ‘yes’. You thought you’d pretty much ruled men out and then suddenly the universe had gifted you four of them.

Maybe this was the end of that dry spell, the possibility of your sexual awakening and more and honestly, you didn’t mind at all.

[earthtoharlow]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

jackharlow added to their story

THATGIRLSTACEY

liked by cassie, haileybieber, lala, kimkardashian, joiechavis, oliviaculpo, jaydacheaves and 684,380 others

thatgirlstacey: woke up this morning grateful that I’m no one’s sloppy seconds

view all 7,457 comments

user: IKTR!!!

user: thread lightly

user: you weren’t even Jack’s first choice

user: in 5 days you will start to cough…

user: not everyone can say the same 🤭🤭

user: but you still woke up with no man

user: woke up a loser tho

urbanwyatt added to their story!

YOURINSTA

liked by latto777, flomillishit, druski,urbanwyatt, normani, zendaya, and 996,054 others

yourinsta: Ariel and I just minding our business 🫣

view all 8,568 comments

user: as you should

user: these outfits tho

druski: don’t worry ill tell you all the tea ☕️

user: you’re always going to win

user: yeah ignore her weird ass

saweetie: auntie misses her baby Ariel!!

user: Stacey was trying to take both your men

user: ok but y’all look so cozyyyy

champagnepapi: my girls

THESHADEROOM

liked by 678,456 users

theshaderoom: Stacey James speaks out for the first time since she reportedly jumped Y/N Y/L backstage after Y/N was doing a performance in Miami, and since Urban Wyatt leaked her DMs to him. James claims it’s not directed towards anyone in particular but if the shoe fits…🤫 what y’all think roomies?

view all 19,567 comments

user: Unfuckablewith!!!

user: Y/N chocked her out so bad that she’s started doing spoken word 🤣🤣

user: wanting to fuck your ex’s best friend is crazy

user: leave her alone she’s just a girl

user: I’m actually scared for Y/N and Urban, Stacey sounds like a supervillain 😭

user: I know she got chocked out but I’m still on her side

user: spoken like a true Virgo !!!

BALLERALERT

liked by 956,086 users

BallerAlert: Y/N Y/L opens about Co-Parenting with Drake, moving back to Kentucky, and THAT fight

On Co-Parenting with Drake: “No matter what’s going on between us, Ariel is our main priority. We have a nice little system. He’s a great father.” Y/N later mentions that despite them taking a break right now that her love for him runs deep. “I love that man and always will. I’m so lucky to still have him in my life.”

Moving to Kentucky: “I love Kentucky and always have. Urban, who is my best friend, convinced me to move in with him along with Ariel. I’m having the best time, truly don’t know where I’d be without him.” Y/N says everyone needs to mind their business when it comes to their opinion on their friendship. “I love Urban, we’re locked in for real. So everyone mind their business, I’m allowed to hug my friend. He’s family to me.

Fighting: “I can’t say much because you know the courts are dealing with it but I’m a lady, I don’t fight. But I refuse to let anyone jump me or speak ill on my family. I don’t like that shady shit, speak up or shut up.

When asked if she still has feelings for Jack Harlow:

“No Comment.”

view all 12,085 comments

user: I miss her with Drake!

user: we gotta get her away from Jack

user: I still think she’s still fooling around with Urban

user: y/n said stay and get your ass beat or stay and get your ass best !!!

user: maybe she’s fucking urban and drake

user: I wish the Harlow family would leave her alone

user: how can she still love Jack…..

user: just insane someone save her

THESHADEROOM

liked by 867,086 users

theshaderoom: OOP looks like this divorce is getting messy!!! According to TMZ, Jack and Stacey have been arguing for weeks about where their daughter, Willow is going to live once the divorce is finalized!

Jack claims that Willow has no family out in California, where Stacey is from. And states that Willow grew up in Kentucky and would hate to disrupt her life by moving her across the country.

Stacey James calls bullshi— saying that she has plenty of family members and friends out in California and that she’s been there ever since the divorce!

We hope this gets resolved soon! What y’all think roommates?

view all 14,986 comments

user: I feel horrible for their daughter

user: I’m team Stacey !!!

user: Jack too busy worried about what Y/N is doing than taking care of his daughter!!!

user: at this point just call CPS

user: watch them get back together

user: Jack no one wants to live in kentucky!!

user: they only get along when it comes to harassing Y/N

user: sick of this couple tbh

JACKHARLOW

liked by tmz, neelamthadhani, druski, justinbieber, kimkardashian, joeywagner, 2forwoyne and 645,368 others

jackharlow: Does praying work? Might have to run that one time

view all 8,467 comments

user: God can’t come to the phone rn

user: yes but ain’t no point for you to even try cause you going to hell

neelamthadhani: God’s got you

user: sponsored by PHOCUS #ad

user: literally only feel bad for Willow

druski: I don’t even think god can help you right now brother

user: welp you know someone got themselves into some shit when they wanna start praying

***

AN: messy messy messy 🤭 sorry this took so long but tell me your thoughts let’s gossip xx

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @mace23477 @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @comehomeimissyou @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @xxkoolkatxx @khiyah @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts

[cursedonyx]

HL Cast in a Muggle Nursing Home

Time has passed, as it does so well, and our sweethearts have all ended up in the same nursing home in the late 1900s/early 2000s for the sake of convenience. Why a muggle nursing home? Why not?

Sebastian Sallow

Still a troublemaker through and through. Sebastian’s charm has only increased with age, and it only takes a wink and a smile before whatever tomfoolery he got into is forgiven. He has no concept of curfew (has he ever?) and will regularly wander off either alone or with Ominis to see if they can get into mischief or visit the local library (or pub). He will absolutely use his advanced age to excuse whatever nonsense he gets up to, but he’s still sharp as a tack and perfectly lucid. He really enjoys quieter moments as well, settling in his favourite chair with a good book, though the muggle TV holds a lot of fascination for him. He loves watching The Bill, and he once stole a muggle policeman’s hat, though his absolute favourite thing to watch is cartoons, particularly Tom and Jerry.

He doesn’t have family to visit him, he never had children, but he’s more than okay with that. He’s got his friends and his partner, and that’s all that matters to him.

Ominis Gaunt

Extremely proud, he refuses even the slightest help, and gets very angry if the staff don’t respect this. He would quite literally rather die than have someone help him shower or feed him, and he has on occasion used the Confundus charm on staff that won’t leave him alone. Aside from this, he is unendingly polite to the staff and generally keeps out of trouble, unless he feels things have gotten too quiet. Then, it’s a whisper in Sebastian’s ear, and the pair of them cause no end of bother, reliving their school days with abject glee. His favourite muggle invention over the last century is absolutely personal audio players, and he’s got a little mp3 player stuffed full of audiobooks and dramas. Make sure he’s got plenty of tea and a good stack of sandwiches, pop him in a patch of sunlight, and he’ll happily stay there all day, listening to his books.

Similarly to Sebastian, Ominis never had children, but he’s content with this decision. Considering what happened with Voldemort, he’s even more convinced that he did the right thing by not breeding. He and his wife are perfectly happy together as they are. Besides, the other's grandchildren/great-grandchildren get on his nerves, and he'll hide away if they visit.

Garreth Weasley

Loves a spongebath, our Garreth. He’s definitely the type to pretend he’s more helpless than he actually is just so he can flirt with the staff. He has absolutely dropped something on purpose and asked for someone to pick it up for him just so he can smirk at the view as they bend over. He’s energetic for his age and has visitors from his family at least twice or thrice a week, who always try and convince him to come and live with one of them instead. The main reason he’s here instead of at home is so he can keep Leander company. Garreth’s not able to experiment with potions so much in a muggle nursing home, so he’s swapped his passion for potions into culinary experiments. He’s a surprisingly talented chef, and when he’s allowed in the kitchen, everyone enjoys a magnificent meal. He keeps up a friendly rivalry with Sebastian and Ominis (house pride and all that), but over the decades they’ve all become extremely good friends.

Leander Prewett

Leander’s grown in confidence over the years into quite a suave person. Of course, it's not a patch on Ominis’ charm but he’s no longer interested in imitating people to try and seem impressive – he’s just happy with who he is. He’s developed a bit of an eccentric fashion sense and his wardrobe is huge. Poppy can often be found raiding his closets looking for something he doesn’t wear anymore so she can make outfits for her pets. He’s still reserved in some ways, and his favourite thing to do is potter about in the garden (usually wearing his favourite feather boa and some 1991 novelty glasses that he picked up somewhere). He does sneakily grow some magical plants among the usual muggle ones, and it always makes him chuckle when the staff think they’re hallucinating the big bush by the window moving by itself. If the weather’s not right for gardening, he’s tinkering with muggle items, and Garreth’s great-grandson, Arthur, is more than happy to show him a thing or two.

Natsai Onai

Natty is the kind of granny everyone loves to sit by as she tells the most fantastical stories. She’s filled out quite a lot over the years, and she gives the warmest hugs. Natty’s more often than not surrounded by all the grandchildren of all the residents that have them, including her own, who call her ‘Nana Nats,’ much to her delight. She’s a published author, writing about her adventures at Hogwarts and as an Auror as though they were fantasy detective stories. Though she’s quite well off because of this, she stays here with her friends and uses her money to always make sure there are sweets for the grandchildren and presents for her friends and the staff. In quieter moments, she’s either cozied up with Amit or taking tea with the girls, gossiping and pouring over muggle magazines about knitting and crochet. She adores making jumpers for everyone for Christmas.

Poppy Sweeting

Poppy is just as obsessed with animals as she has been all her life, and she’s constantly rescuing birds that fell out of their nests, squirrels with injured paws, hedgehogs that need a good clean, not to mention the veritable army of stray cats that know they’ll get fed if they come to this particular nursing home. The staff have long given up trying to stop this, and Poppy’s bedroom looks kind of like what would happen if Snow White sang for three hours straight. She frequently frightens the life out of the staff when they find her halfway up a tree in her slippers and poncho, trying to see baby birds in their nests.

When she’s not hoarding every wild animal under the sun, Poppy can most often be found trying to use the internet to learn more about animals, or watching nature documentaries by Sir David Attenborough (something she and Ominis share a fondness for). She enjoys helping Garreth in the kitchen when he’s allowed, especially if he’s baking, but that’s mainly so she can lick the bowl.

She leaves cat hair everywhere.

Amit Thakkar

Amit is a kindly old grandpa who knows more about space and the cosmos than perhaps anyone else alive, and he’s written several books on the subject that are popular in both wizarding and muggle communities, though he is best known as one of the country’s leading Magical Historians. He delights in sharing this knowledge with anyone who will listen, and he’s usually got a pocketful of Indian sweeties to share with anyone who endures his lectures for longer than ten minutes. He likes to keep active and loves going out for walks with Natty when they’re both feeling up to it before enjoying a hot chocolate and retiring for a nap.

Imelda Reyes

Imelda achieved her dream of becoming an International Quidditch Star, and even now, seventy years later, she will not shut up about it. Her trophies are proudly displayed in her room along with banners and posters that she’s had to charm to stop the muggle staff noticing anything weird, and if asked, she poutingly tells them she used to be a Rugby star, which is also true. Imelda played Rugby in between playing quidditch, and she was very, very good at it. She adores the sport and watches it religiously on the muggle TV, deriding football as a ‘game for ninnies.’ Any Rugby matches happening nearby, no matter who’s playing, she’s going to nab herself some tickets and go. Poppy frequently tags along to these, and these two little old ladies cause no end of mayhem once there. They’ve even been on the news a few times by accident.

Masterlist

[vieramars]

Making this its own post bc it wasn't getting seen as a reblog

Re: a very niche oddly specific fluffy TMA au

So I'm in a swing dance club and I started thinking about what if the characters of the magnus archives were all in a swing dance club. Absolutely no regard for canon, just all the characters hanging out having a time.

Half the characters do not know how to dance. Some are really good at it. Elias is the club leader who thought having a position of authority would be fun but now he's stuck managing a room full of chaos gremlins with fear powers.

Half the playlist is mechs songs. Nikola insists on doing live music every few meets.

Jon watches tons of videos on swing moves in order to learn them and is constantly watching his feet to make sure he's doing the steps right. He's a follow and almost exclusively dances with Martin. Even though he helped form the club he perpetually has new awkward member energy. Still, once he's had plenty of time to practice a move, he can do it perfectly nine times out of ten.

Martin is a much more confident dancer than someone who'd just met him would think. He's a lead and his musicality is on point. He's really good at songs with tempo changes, and his favorite move is probably swing kicks.

Tim and Sasha are terrifying on the dance floor. Sasha's the lead and every dance she's trying to beat her own record for how many times she can spin Tim consecutively. They prefer open position and every other move is a basket turn. 

Michael showed up one day and just became part of the club by being there, then later invited Helen along. Both of them like to dance with pretty much everyone, and both of them love sliding doors. Sometimes involving actual distortion doors. Their dance moves are reality bending and they always have the flashiest outfits. Michael is ambidancetrous (comfortable leading or following) and Helen is a lead.

Agnes wears very thick gloves so that she can dance with people without burning their hands. To avoid accidents she's also very good at no-contact moves. Sometimes she brings Jack over for club meetings. She's a lead and her favorite move is sugar pushes though she also likes line dances and does the best charleston out of the whole group.

Daisy and Basira are inseparable. But they are both leads. Rather than dancing with other people they just solo jazz and line dance together.

No matter who she's dancing with or what moves they're doing Nikola is killing it. Her favorite dances are steal dances where everyone's rapidly switching partners. She's always the fastest to find a new partner and get back into step. She does everything with a flourish and is an expert at dips of any kind.

Melanie and Georgie are just vibing. Probably the calmest dancers in the room despite being far from the calmest people. Georgie can dance the entire length of the meeting without taking a break.

Gerry mostly only dances with Michael, Mike, or Tim because they can match his energy the best. He loves fast-paced songs and complicated moves, and can absolutely fuck it UP at the shim sham.

Mike Crew also really likes fast-paced dances and loves spinning his partner until they might as well be in the vast for how dizzy they are. Dancing with him comes with a spin at your own risk disclaimer.

Oliver is more of a slow song enjoyer, and he joins Jon and Nikola in the live music performances. While Agnes is the best at many variations of the charleston, Oliver is the best at the cowboy charleston specifically, and he can do it while playing a fiddle.

Peter Lukas REFUSES to dance except for rarely when Elias convinces him to, in which case they have a vibe that's somewhere between overly formal ballroom dancing and Morticia and Gomez doing the most. 

Jane Prentiss is mostly here for the snacks and the vibes but she joins in for warm-ups and line dances. The only person she'll dance together with is Agnes cause they both prefer the least amount of physical contact possible.

Annabelle Cane is the main dance instructor and she's a phenomenal teacher. She knows all the moves by heart and she's rocking the roaring 20s aesthetic. If she's leading a line dance, everyone's in perfect sync.

If I missed anyone lmk, this is all coming directly out of my brain so some characters might've gotten lost in the stream of consciousness. I'm open to asks about dance pairs, who leads/follows in that pair, and what songs they would pick if they had the floor 👀

By the way, dance pairs do not equal ships! I do ship a few of these pairs (and it makes sense to me for couples to gravitate towards dancing together), but anyone can dance with anyone!

[dbarn]

For anyone interested in Zootopia 2 who hasn't seen this elsewhere:

Disney's big expo, D23, opens tomorrow today. Everyone was expecting Z2 news, but some early pictures are coming out showing a big display.

(Note that these pictures are not mine -- I've pilfered them from /r/Zootopia, and the watermarks indicate Cinepop, but I wasn't able to find a post for these.)

Here's the "official" logo. Notice the scales on the tail of the number 2. Intriguing!

Here's a good angle of the display. A walrus, Nick and Judy in new outfits, and plenty of seafood- and nautical-based businesses. That's because...

This is apparently part of the Marshlands, which have been referred to in passing but not explored yet. I'm getting a New Orleans-type vibe from this. Just behind Judy is a sign for "blowhole decongestant", featuring a cartoon whale, which may indicate that there will be whales and/or dolphins in the new film.

Here's another angle of the scene. Hey, what's that right above the "O" in the watermark? Looks like a snake. Not coincidentally, I'm sure, from this distance it looks pretty similar to the design of Kaa from Jungle Book, or perhaps Sir Hiss from Robin Hood. That would provide a neat bookend for Nick's own Robin Hood-like design. The snake is an interesting inclusion, since the original film made no mention of sentient reptiles or amphibians.

And last, but not least, here's a closeup of the main character figures. They aren't in uniform, which has led to speculation already: are they on vacation? Conducting an undercover investigation? Have they been promoted to detectives? (Also, there's been a minor firestorm over whether Judy's paw resting on Nick's head is sporting a ring, or whether that's just an artifact of potato-quality pictures. BUT REMEMBER THE THING A FEW WEEKS AGO ABOUT NICK AND JUDY WEDDING RINGS BEING OFFERED IN JAPAN???)

EDIT: additional pictures have established that Judy is not wearing a ring.

Personally, I've been trying to decode this sign.

NO (wha?) AFTER SUNSET WITHOUT PERMIT

Mall curs? Hall cubs?

Anyway, I'm really excited about this and can't wait to hear more from the expo tomorrow.

[naturepointstheway]

2008 Wellington Non-Replica Cats here we go

Gather around, everyone, while I pull out my souvenir programme from 2008 Cats I still have from this production way back yonks ago. Feel free to partake in some snacks! There will be plenty of photos from the brochure, hence putting them under a "read more".

Okay, so looking through this production's cast list, I see that there were pretty much the whole cast you'd expect (we had a Plato rather than Admetus, for example), plus some OCs sprinkled in there as well, which I like! The Growltiger sequence was clearly still in there, as there's a Griddlebone for example. One thing I really love is that they cast a very old (I think retired, or close to) actor as Old Deuteronomy which makes sense to me, because he is supposed to be an old cat (I think the actor was in his mid-sixties at least). Ditto for Gus as well, also of a similar age to the actor who played Old Deut, which I love for this cast, and also it makes sense for them to be played by older people, considering they are supposed to be on the older side of life.

There was a separate Quaxo character from Mistoffelees as well, and also kept the Exotica character from the 1998 movie as well.

OCs created (names only, sadly) include Victor, Johnny, Isis, Savannah, Rocket, Anoushka, and Garbo.

Okay enough rambles, on to the photos I took on my phone from the brochure!

Yes, that is Munkustrap, and honestly love his wig--very wild, very maine coon ears in there. Interesting they gave him leopard spots--maybe Jenny gave him those for him to wear for the night? I actually don't mind they gave him some leopard spots here, as it makes him look a lot more like Tugger as well, selling that whole Munk and Tugger are brothers thing even more.

Speaking of our favourite rock star cat...

That leather costume. Umph. My poor bisexual heart. I love the extra floof at his ankles (I think those are leg warmers). This Tugger, from what I remember, gave me very John Partridge's Tugger vibes, which I wholly approve of. Victoria has called shotgun for the space between his legs, and an OC (I think) cat is clawing her way up his thigh which, mood. Yes. Electra is the one that did the screaming at the end of his song (the one stretching up to him, wearing that white-ish unitard.

Griddlebone and Growltiger (I think)!

This Macavity fucks, and I remember his costumed was sparkly as fuck. Practically was in a sparkle-off competition with Mistoffelees in terms of sparkly costumes. I can absolutely see why Bomba wanted this Macavity inside her NOW.

Here's the one and only Grizabella; my favourite costume out of this non-replica Cats, I have to say.

Found a Teazer lurking at the beginning of the brochure, and I love her makeup, which is definitely very much based on the 1998 film Teazer's makeup. I love it!

I think this is supposed to be Misto, and they're adorable, especially with the makeup (which is why I'm pegging them as likely to be our favourite magical sparkly boy, as that looks very similar to Jacob's makeup in the 1998 movie.)

A Mungo has been spotted, looking cute as all get out. He absolutely uses his cute face to fool people into thinking he would never, ever steal or cause a ruckus no way he absolutely knows nothing about that Ming vase or the winter vest he stole from the humans' drawers. That was definitely another cat that looked just like him and just happened (impossible as it seems) to have a name very similar to his.

Old Deut looks very cuddly I want to snuggle him.

Munkustrap would like to have the spotlight for a bit in the middle of Bustopher's song. For some reason I keep thinking the cat next to him over his right shoulder is wearing a superhero outfit, and now all I can think of is either Teazer or Jerrie (looks like one of them) trying to convince Munkustrap they cause ruckus because they're superheroes dammit! Munk is having the fucking time of his life and I'm here for it! Let the stressed out junkyard dad have some fun and this song absolutely Brings Joy for him. Bless this Munk.

First page of a two-page spread from what seems to be The Naming of Cats. One of my favourite things is how some of the wigs are very based on the original Broadway wigs and I'm a thousand percent HERE for this. I LOVE wild wigs that you sometimes see in other productions too, especially in bootlegs from earlier productions from the eighties/early nineties. I see one of the psychic twins (Tanto I believe) with their unmistakeable wig, and a sparkly Misto behind whom I THINK is Jemima (1980s style wig), and Victoria is also very easy to recognise here too with her white wig and unitard.

Second page of the two-page spread from what is likely Naming of Cats. I can very easily spot Tugger right at the back at top left corner, and there's a Jenny over near the right top corner too (very bright orange stripes. We're talking neon here!)

First page of a two-page spread from the Jellicle Ball, everyone looking fab there; I believe I spotted a Tugger again (yep there he is at the far left), a Victoria, and what might be Quaxo right at the back there in the tuxedo costume.

Second page of a two-page spread from the Jellicle Ball, and oh hi Misto there you are looking all cryptid and mysterious way up on your lonesome in the back. I think I finally spotted Alonzo at the bottom right corner (his patterns suggest he could be Alonzo) too.

Aaand that's all! Hope you enjoyed this little journey through my very old souvenir programme from a non-replica Cats performance in Wellington, NZ in 2008. May your conjuring turns never falter and may you always meditate on your secret third name.

Name...

name...

name...

[lovebytz]

I finished the first drafts of my inner senshi designs!

I am super open for questions and constructive critique!

I will be reblogging this onto the ITNOTM blog but if you have comments please comment on this post or send asks to my main ( @lovebytz )

First of all, Sailor Moon 🌙

She’s the princess of the moon (not that she knows that yet) and her design is meant to reflect that! It’s frilly, it’s girly, and it shows how cheerful and kind Sailor Moon is, even if she’s a little childish

Like Sailor Mars, Sailor Moon uses lots of long range attacks. Her role on the team is to purify or dispel the enemies after they’ve been subdued, but she still fights with everyone else!

This was the first one I drew so it’s rougher than the others, but I really love her

Also, I have received feedback on the striped tights so I will work on them in the second pass

—————

Second to join the team, Sailor Mercury 🫧

Sailor Mercury is the tactical and intelligent supporter of the group. What she lacks in offensive abilities she makes up for with careful planning and lots of bubble spray! Before she can become the best support she can be though, she needs to learn to communicate with her team

I used a lot of square shapes with soft edges to show that Mercury is kind and dependable! Her formal outfit is also meant to reflect her status as a supportive role.

When everyone’s done fighting she’s quick to mend their wounds as best she can. What kind of aspiring doctor would she be if she didn’t?

I’m honestly in love with her design, but of course I’m open to critique if you see anything I could improve!

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Next up is Sailor Mars 🔥, the level-headed long range!

In between her duties as a Shinto priestess and her work at her prestigious Catholic school, Mars fights the forces threatening the Earth with her new friends! She uses long range attacks to subdue the enemy so Jupiter and Venus can get up close and personal. Even if she bickers with Sailor Moon and Sailor Jupiter, she loves her teammates like her own family.

My version of Mars is based on her manga depiction and she still has her punch! She uses sharp angles to convey her strength, but plenty of squares to demonstrate that she’s got a sound mind on her shoulders.

I did want her to look classy in her outfit, but I don’t know if I achieved that. She’s going to get a second go for sure.

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Strong yet graceful, it’s Sailor Jupiter 🌹

Using both long range magic and up close attacks, Sailor Jupiter is a bit of an all rounder! While her nature based attacks may look weak, she packs plenty of power! From flowers to lightning, she can bring and foe down! And don’t forget her physical strength either!

Sailor Jupiter is meant to look a bit like a prince, showing her determination to care for and protect her friends. One thing I wanted to highlight about her is her soft side, which I don’t see very often in Sailor Jupiter designs. She’s strong yes, but there’s a lot more to her than that!

I think she came out really cute, she looks like someone who would be a great friend.

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Last but not least, the leader Sailor Venus 💌

She may not show it very well, but Sailor Venus is determined to protect her friends. They matter more to her than the Earth itself. However, she shoulders too many responsibilities. If she’s going to be a good leader, she needs to accept the help of the people she holds dear. Especially since she’s hiding something very important…

With the White Moon Sword and her Love-Me Chain, Venus gets up close and personal with the enemy! She may take some damage, but she delivers it right back. She’s a loyal knight through and through and that is reflected in her design.

Sailor Venus got the most changes! I wanted to reflect her new backstory and character arc while making her color palette more cohesive. However, I think I overcomplicated her design. She could probably use a second or third pass to get her just right.

Also! She’s supposed to have a similar silhouette to Sailor Moon to demonstrate their close bond.

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And that’s the inner senshi! I would love to hear your feedback. Please remember to either comment on the post or send an ask to my main, not the ITNOTM askbox

Tysm!