#frisky lads

[bobbie-robron]

All I want is something for us to look forward to. Don’t we deserve that?

06-Aug-2019, episode 1

[thegnomelord]

Soap and #12 with cismale reader. I was thinking they have mutual feelings for each other but not in a relationship yet, and some obliviousness mixed in for drama lol

Sure mate, though it ended up more drama than oblivious idiots in love lol. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: "What, did you think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" "Let's be real, you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

CW:NSFW, Sub Soap, Top male reader, back alley sex, semi-public sex, mild fighting, miscommunication, Soap being a jealous hoe(again)

You and Soap have a . . . thing. You're not quite sure what to call it; You're just comrades, friends, who go out for drinks after every mission and end up messily making out in the back of a bar only to get kicked out when you two inevitably get frisky and near an indecent exposure charge. But it's fine, because it gives you the excuse to go to base and fuck on the bed, or the floor, or the table, or against the wall, or any other semi-flat surface.

But you're just friends. . . or, that's what tell yourself every time your heart pitifully clenches in your chest when Soap smiles, when he laughs and pats your shoulder, when he moans your name so sweetly as you pound into him, when he looks at you as if his world starts and ends with you; because what would a bloke like Soap want with you other than sex? So you try to drown the ache for him by going out with other people, but it's never the same— not in the way they sound, in the way they move, in the way you feel.

Johnny, on the other hand, thinks you're his and his alone.

"I'm telling yea lads," Johnny says as he knocks back a beer, a lovey dovey look in his eyes like he's a lovesick puppy. "Ah've locked him down this time." He grins, and Ghost swears if he has to listen one more time about how big your cock is or how Johnny can still feel you from last time— he'll shoot you both.

"Uhuh," Gaz rolls his eyes, amused at his antics but also happy that he's finally found someone. "Yeah, su-" Something catches Gaz's eyes and he turns his head, the color draining from his face. "-ummmm."

Ghost's eyes quickly flicker over to where he's looking, "Look at that," Ghost gives a rough snort, "Locked your man down so good he's swappin' spit without you."

Soap's immediately sober as a nun, his neck audibly cracking when he swings around to look at you. The sight of you making out with a random girl across the bar has Soap's thoughts turning in his head like rusted cogs, the world almost slowing down to force him to feel all the emotions his brain spits out; Surprise comes first, like being drenched in ice cold water, disgust making his blood feel like tar at the thought of you touching someone else the same way you touch him, hot anger barreling straight through it to make fingers twitch for the trigger of a gun.

But it's the meek hurt that forces his legs to move, striding across the bar like he's on a war path. A rough hand on your shoulder makes you break off the kiss, your world spinning like a kaleidoscope from the booze and sudden force turning you around. Your eyes finally settle on familiar blue ones, but they're cold like the deepest part of the arctic. "Johnny?" You ask.

His name on your lips only makes his scowl deeper, a bruising grip on your arm as he tugs you, "We need tae talk," He spits, glaring at the poor girl you'd been making out with like she's riddled with plague.

You're not given even a second to argue before he's yanking you out the back exit into the alley between the bar and another building. A second later he's roughly slamming you into the brick wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs with a forearm against your throat and ignoring as you choke softly. "Thae fock's wrong wit' yea!" He snarls into your face, more animal than man.

Rapidly depleting oxygen forces your brain to flood your veins with adrenaline and suddenly you're moving, harshly elbowing him in the stomach and ramming him into the stone wall behind him you swear the rock cracks. "Me? What's wrong with you?"

He tries to push against you, your arms scrambling for a solid hold until you end up in a stand still, "What's wrong-" He shoves his face into yours, nearly breaking your nose while hissing like a feral cat, "-is thaet ye're shacking up with some tramp."

"So what!" You demand, a low grunt leaving your lips as you attempt to keep him pinned when he squirms like an eel, "We're just casual-" You force out those words, trying to ignore the stab to the chest your heart gives.

"Casual?" He scoffs and with a swift jerk of his head smashes his skull into yours. You stumble away, black spots dancing in your vision and that's all he needs to grab and switch your positions, pinning you to the wall. "What? D'yea think all those times I kissed you were for shits and giggles?" He demands, a bit of a traitorous hurt making his his voice crack, face pinched in pain.

"Let's be real-" Copper and iron invade your tastebuds, drawing attention to the slow stream of blood trickling from your nose, "-you had a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public."

You feel his body tense, but keep your eyes open as you expect him to punch you, to kick you, to do something to prove what you have is just temporary; pointless bliss.

"Then how'bout ah give yea a clearer message-" He leans in to lick trail of blood on your face before capturing your lips in a kiss that's more teeth than anything else. You wretch your hand free to tangle your fingers in his short hair, bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces, reciprocating with just as much intensity as you bite his bottom lip until his blood floods your mouths. "Got it through yer thick skull now?" He asks, pulling back just a bit to stare into your eyes.

You don't know what 'it' is, but the kiss and the roughness makes heat burn through your veins, one quick flicker of your eyes confirming he's sporting the same problem in his pants as you are. "Think I'll need more convincing."

Soap yelps when you turn him around, pinning his chest to the cold wall as your hands slide down to his belt. You stall for a second to give him a way out, but he just growls, "Get on with it," So you quickly undo his pants, shoving his jeans and boxers just down beneath the swell of his arse.

"Slut," You chuckle when you catch sight of the black plug nestled between his cheeks, the skin near it still glistening with lube from how messily he'd prepped himself, "Needed me so bad did you?" You ask as you pull the plug out, putting it into your pocket as you push the head of your cock against his fluttering opening.

"'s cause ah love yea, fockin' git." He growls, his words making your brain crash.

"Repeat that," You say, softer, kinder than you usually operate, pressing against him until you're covering his back completely. "Say that again."

He notices your change, the ice in his eyes melting away enough to let him tug your head closer to kiss you, "I love you." The way he says it, like a prayer, like a sweet caress, has your heart melting into a puddle. A dingy back alley shouldn't be the place where you confess your love, but right now it feels like Paris.

"Love you too," You kiss him back and slide into him in one slow stroke, greedily swallowing down his sounds. You let him adjust before setting a hard pace like you know he loves, cock head scraping against his prostate with every thrust. "Really, really love you." You breathe out, watching his eyes lose focus as he lets out little 'ah, ah, ah's every time your hips meet.

"Bonnie, bonnie lad please-" He whines, resting his face against the dirty wall as he moans without shame, forgetting that anyone could walk in on you two and more than likely hear you across the single layer brick wall. "Fock, c'mon, give it to me."

"Yeah, gonna take care of you-" Your hand slides down to rub his cock, squeezing his base every time you bottom out and playing with his head when you draw your hips back so you can plunge back inside him, lust and love lighting up every synapse in your body. "Just say you love me again."

Johnny's eyes close as he falls into a barely comprehensible rambling of 'love you, love you, love you', his body shaking with a building heat in his stomach, precum rapidly lubing the glide of your hand as you fuck him in a harsh pace until with a sharp yell against his shoulder you cum inside him, Johnny following suit as he paints the dirty wall white with his cum.

You feel him collapse against you and have just enough strength left to support you both, though the wall does the brunt of the work. You breathe the same air as you try to get your bearings, both hearts beating in the same speed and rhythm, and Johnny whines when you attempt to shift, hole clenching greedily around you like his body doesn't want you to seperate.

"You know," You say when you've managed to catch your breath, nuzzling into the back of his neck, "There are easier ways to say you love me without biting my head off." You chuckle, as if your heart isn't beating a thousand miles per hour at the knowledge Soap loves you.

He swats at your head, "Oh awa' an bile yer heid." He growls such harsh words before kissing you softly, sharing a silent promise with you.

[manikas-whims]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

— a masterlist for all the LOVE AND DEEPSPACE headcanons, imagines and fanfics that i plan to write

— will be updated regularly

1. how the LADS men will react when they find out you're on your period

⭐ XAVIER

❄️ ZAYNE

🌊 RAFAYEL

2. will the LADS men peel an orange for you?

3. LADS men when you suggest the sit-ups kiss challenge

4. LADS men's reactions when they hear a little kid say he'll marry you when he grows up 🥺

5. LADS men react to you taking in a kitten

6. Fake Dating the LADS men but you start catching feelings - [PART 1] [PART 2]

7. LADS men when you fall asleep on their shoulder

8. LADS men dating a famous reader

9. LADS men when you start dating someone, who later on mistreats you

10. LADS men with a Latin Reader

11. LADS men and the type of thirst traps they don’t post

12. Xavier & Rafayel with a long-haired Reader

13. Xavier NSFW/Smut Headcanons

14. Sylus’s reaction to you dating someone who later on mistreats you

15: Would Sylus peel an orange for you?

16. Skincare with the LADS Men

XAVIER

1. “will you be able to calm down if i tie your hands together?”

2. An Elusive Alliance (feat. Rafayel) - friendship between the boys

3. “no one's here. you can yell or scream if you're tired.”

4. 13th Day

5. fake marriages don’t come with separate beds

6. A Frisky Morning

7. the inevitable farewell

8. Slow Dance

RAFAYEL

1. An Elusive Alliance (feat. Xavier) - friendship between the boys

header by @saradika ; divider by @cafekitsune

(under construction)

[random-thot-generator]

Reverse Trope Prompt: (see end notes after reading. No peeking!)

Full list here

Ghost x reader

sfw -bit of angst, profanity, a frisky drunk bird but nothing explicit

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

"Looks like LT's pulled 'imself another winner."

Gaz glances over his shoulder, sniffs, then turns back with a cynical curl to his lip. Lifting his pint glass, he slants a knowing look at his fellow sergeant. "He's lost the bloody plot, if ya ask me. Hooks up with every bird he gets his hands on, now." He shakes his head. "'S bloody mental, mate. What the hell is he thinkin'?"

Soap grunts, mouth twisting in disgust as he focuses on his lieutenant and the cackling drunk bird splayed across his lap. "Canna say. Dinnae ken wha's gotten into 'im. Feckin' mad, lettin' a bonnie, good lass go t'chase after sloppy-drunk tarts like tha' one."

"You lads ready for another round?"

Both men flinch at the sound of your voice and glance up at you with guilty expressions. They know you had to have heard what they were saying. Gaz drops his gaze as he nods and pushes his glass across the bar, while Soap tilts his head to study you. You meet his searching blue eyes while you refill Gaz's pint, knowing what's coming. You breathe out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter, Johnny?"

His brows pinch together in a perturbed frown. "Does it no' bother yeh, 'im flauntin' those mingin' slags right in yer face?"

"Jesus, Soap!" Gaz hisses, elbowing him. "Shut ya bloody gob." He then turns his attention back to you, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry, luv. He's got no filter when he drinks too much."

"Oi! I dinnae need yeh t'make excuses fer meh," Soap fusses, still scowling when he looks back to you. "'M sorry, hen. Dinnae mean t'upset yeh. Jus' think it's no' right, 'im scrapin' yeh off the way 'e did, then comin' in 'ere where yeh work, messin' about with other birds, like 'e does. 'S disrespectful."

Your eyes drift to Ghost, grimacing at the way the woman in his lap is pawing at him, before dropping your eyes to glare at the bar top. "It doesn't matter," you mutter, wiping down the bar with more force than is necessary. "We're over, so he can do what he wants with whoever he wants. I think him breaking things off between us was probably for the best, don't you?"

The two sergeants exchange a look.

Soap huffs and slumps on his bar stool, mumbling into his pint, "Yeh're too good fer 'im, anyway." He knocks the last of his stout back with an angry sneer.

Gaz nods in agreement, his eyes sympathetic when he adds, "Ya can do better, luv. Deserve someone who'll treat ya right."

You try to smile, but it's fake, brittle. "Seriously, it's alright. I'm over it. Really."

You can tell that neither of them believes you.

Your call for last orders goes out a few minutes later, and the few customers left in the pub begin to drift towards the door. Gaz and Soap are settling up their tabs when Ghost steps up behind them, the giggling drunk bird tucked under his arm. His dark eyes slide over you, like you're not even there.

"'M headin' out, lads. I'll see the two'uh ya back at base. Gonna take 'er 'ome," he tells the sergeants, nodding down at the bleary-eyed bird glued to his side.

Gaz give a curt nod, avoiding eye contact. Soap makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Aye. Jus' keep rubbin' 'er nose in it," he mutters, then sniffs, shaking his head. "Steamin' Jaysus."

Ghost tenses, eyes narrowing over his face mask. "Ya gotta problem, sergeant?"

Just as Soap's mouth opens to reply, you clear your throat, breaking the tense moment. "How 'bout a bag of crisps to soak up all that alcohol, Johnny? My treat."

His head swivels around to look at you, the scowl slowly melting off his face when he sees your worried expression. He blows out a breath. "Aye. Thanks, bon." He side-eyes Ghost, then looks away. "See ya later, LT," he mumbles.

The drunk bird makes a whining noise, tugging at Ghost's jacket. "C'mon, luv. Leh's gooo. 'M ready t'get home." She then gives him a drunken, lewd grin, pressing up against him. "Ya can help me get these tights off, yeah?" she whispers to him, waggling her eyebrows.

Ghost grunts a laugh, seemingly amused. "Cheeky muppet. Olright. Let's get outta here."

You busy yourself with wiping down the bar as Ghost leads the tottering woman out the door, then toss your towel down once he's gone. Snagging two bags of crisps for the sergeants, you hand one to each of them.

"Here ya go," you murmur. "Need me to call a taxi for ya?"

"No thanks, luv," Gaz replies softly, sliding off his stool. "I already ordered us an Uber. Let's go, Soap."

Soap stands, his crisps clutched in his hand. He's scowling, shaking his head. "'E's a bloody eejit," he mutters.

You finally wave goodbye to the two sergeants, locking up behind them once you usher them out the door. Blowing out a tired breath, you lean back against it and stare down at your trainers.

"God, I'm glad this night is over," you mumble to yourself, then heave another sigh before heading back to the bar, ready to close up for the night and get out of there.

The drive home is short, just a couple blocks away, but it still gives you too much time to think. This is by far the worst break-up you've ever been through. None of your work mates or friends can seem to go a day without mentioning it. Even worse, Simon's mates won't let it go, either.

You appreciate their support, but seriously wish that Soap and Gaz would stop bringing Simon up, altogether. It's hard enough watching the big lug flirting with birds right under your nose. You don't need Soap pointing it out to you, or Gaz giving you those sad, pitying looks all night.

You try to shake off your negative thoughts as you park and walk to your flat. It's sweet that the lads are trying to be there for you, but you hope that they'll just let it go soon. Maybe you should just tell them you're seeing someone else. It might help put their minds at ease, get them to back off a little bit.

Once inside your flat, you toe off your trainers and turn on the lights, then pad into the kitchen. Putting some leftovers in the microwave, you shuffle off to take a quick shower while it's heating, hoping the hot water will soothe away some of your stress.

As you're toweling off, you hear your front door open and then close. Hurrying to get dressed, you open the bathroom door, the smell of yesterday's shepherd's pie hitting your nose. You hear the clatter of plates and utensils coming from the kitchen as you pace down the short hallway and peek around the corner. You stop when you reach the doorway, leaning your shoulder against the jamb and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Took you awhile to get here. Thought you might've decided to stay the night with that bird, after all."

Simon sets the leftover shepherd's pie he just took out of the microwave on the table, smirking. Tossing down the potholders, he comes to you, his big arms wrapping around your body to pull you close before his head dips to give you a kiss.

"Took forever t'get 'er outta the bloody truck an' into 'er flat. 'Ad t'fight 'er off'uh me the whole way there, too, the handsy git." He rumbles out a low chuckle. "She was right pissed when I left without helpin' 'er outta those tights."

You huff, cutting him a snarky look. "Yeah, I bet." You frown, sliding your hands down his chest. "I wish we didn't have to do this, Si. I don't like seeing other women all over my man, and I hate lying to everyone, especially Johnny and Kyle."

He sighs, lifting a hand to cradle your face. "I know, sweet'art, but it won't be f'much longer. Cap says Nik's almost got all of our documents an' passports in order. When it's time, we'll loop Gaz an' Johnny in. My next mission out, Ghost will be reported KIA, an' once he's laid t'rest, it'll finally be over. No more sneakin' around, no more lyin'. We'll 'ave new identities, a new life." He hugs you tighter. "An' I can finally provide my missus wiff a proper 'ome."

"Si..."

His eyes go lazy and warm as he slides his hand down to cover your belly. "Gotta 'ave a proper 'ome, love. 'S why we're doin' this. Wanna be free an' clear a'fore the li'l nipper gets 'ere. Yeah?"

You gaze up into your husband's eyes, a hopeful smile spreading across your face. You plant a kiss on his smirking lips and nod.

"Yeah."

-

End notes - *shrugs* I didn't want to spoil the ending. 😉

reverse trope: Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Whistle while you work

Synopsis - sometimes all a little lass needs is to just holler the lyrics of an angry female-empowering country music, but a certain beloved Scot just can’t help but be worried he screwed up

cw: swearing, medical and military workplace inaccuracies, playful language, suggestive content, heavy flirting, slight miscommunication trope(this hurts me more than this hurts you believe me), nicknames, use of Scottish and southern(Georgia/texas) accent that some readers may find corny or displeasurable

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x southern!medic!reader

Author’s note: I know I said I was busy but I heard “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood come on the radio and it’s been an ear worm that sticking to my brain like flies on a horse. But once again I’m here to remind you that I’m taking southern notes from Georgia and Texas because I was raised in one and I visit family quite often in the other. I am completely open to constructive criticism but if you have nothing nice to say then you just scroll past it costs you absolutely nothing to mind your business. Italicized is singing btw.

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

Soap had begun to have a routine with you. He could often come visit you after shift hours or you would come along on missions and be his first pit stop at base. It was a beautiful little arrangement that the F1F begun to adore. You were the warm fire to warm their cold hearts or the blazing hearth to whip them into shape if they got rowdy. So it was a little jarring to him when he strolled into your clinic and heard an angry drawl.

“Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp. And she’s probably gettin’ frisky.”

Your voice had him weak at the knees but there was something off in your pitch. A grit, an anger, a frustration. He suddenly began retracing his steps, trying to find a failure placed upon his behalf.

“Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'Cause she can't shoot whiskey.”

“Bonnie?” the man called out to you, his reaction was controlled but his heart thumped against his chest trying to break out. When you didn’t respond he decided to stay by the doors out of your vision to figure out what was the issue, studying you.

“Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know”

Your hips began to sway against the rising tune and even in your scrubs, there was a clear muscle memory when it came to the rhythm of the song. Soap quickly exited and left to go to the common room to find the rest of the F1F playing poker

“There’s loverboy, we were wondering how long it would take for you and-“

“Firstly, she’s my friend Capt’n you know that. Secondly, Somethin’s a mattah with Bonnie.” Soap cut Price off quickly not caring for niceties.

“why because she’s running a little late?” Gaz spoke while checking his turn. It was comical how they knew you by your nicknames from Soap rather than your god given name.

“Aye ‘nd she’s singin’ this song of ‘ers and it’s got me all worried. I mean I know that I’ve been a wee bit busy lately but I’ve made sure to make me rounds and when I came to her place she was swinging hips and I ken to know when somethin’s a mattah with me Bonnie-“ Simon’s head turned to his friend with interest as Gaz cut the rambling man short.

“Calm down mate. We cannot understand you when you go back to the ancestral plane with that tongue of yours” Gaz spoke. Price waved him off to let the Scott breathe.

“She’s up tae high doh.” Soap rushed out, his brows knit together trying to piece together what could’ve happened.

“In English, lad” Price spoke up. However somebody came to his rescue.

“The phrase is meant to be used to describe when somebody is pent up, flustered. It’s a Scottish saying.” Ghost answered with a deep baritone. Everyone was surprised but secretly noted the phrase for whenever they had to go solo with the Mohawk man.

“So go talk to her” Price responded to Soap with a look that said he was ordering, then he offered a small gift of liquid courage

Soap refused the drink and made his way back over to the infirmary. His brain scrambling to find an answer.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats”

Your belted notes rung through the doors and hit his ears. He vowed he would find out the issue and fix it just so he wouldn’t have to hear the pain in your voice. He came around the corner as you stood in front of a table, organizing your different surgery and procedural tools. He spotted the AirPod beneath your trucker hat (since wearing a traditional cowboy hat was too distracting in the work place even during the quiet shifts. )

“I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires-“

Soap swallowed all his worry as he grabbed an AirPod out and spoke but you beat him to the punch.

“Who in all of god givens creation just ordered a free fuckin’- Oh sweetheart Johnny it’s you.” Your fire calmed just as quick as it kindled.

“hey lassie I was getting worried about you” Soap said. His heart and maybe something else throbbed at your honey tone. One day he’d finally act upon those feelings but today he needed to worry about something else. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“Are you saying I’m throwin’ a hissy fit?”

“Noo jist haud on there Lassie. I jist was-“

“Heavens to Betsy! You do think I’m havin’ a hissy fit, why you oughta know that I was the best little-“

As you two went on back and forth, the distance between your bodies got smaller and smaller. Two wide eyed grins plastered across your face. He cut you off with a smirk

“Oh I’m sure you were the.. how do you say it again? Oh right” Johnny leaned in closer and his voice dropped, “the best little girl this side of the Mississippi. Ain’t that right, hen?”

“I know damn well you did not just call me a hen from a damn barn house-“ you went to speak again but got cut off as your throat hitched, soap’s mouth just by your ear and his tone got unrealistically deeper and more dominant. A careful hand grazing your hip.

“Shut yer pus for a moment, hen. Tell me what’s a matter. What’s got you so up tae high doh.” The male spoke.

You were silent for once. All the cogs in your brain just stopped. Everything was quiet, if you had perfect hearing you could hear Johnny’s poor heart banging to get out of his chest in anxiety from him boldly caressing your waist.

“Aww come on lassie, need me to buy a wrench for that brain of yours”

“I misplaced my sewing needle. Well I did or one of the stupid nurses did but I can’t find it and I won’t find it till the cows come home” you huffed.

“The one from your nana?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“No need for the ‘tude. May I look?”

“Sure. It’s no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond” you said softly as he gently moved you aside to look at the table below. His trained eye spotting a glint on the ground. He reached over to pick it up and show it to you.

“Bless your heart! Good god Johnny, oh my sweet I could kiss you!” You cried out with the biggest grin. You leaned forward and kissed him softly on his cheek. His stubble gently scratching your soft, plump lips. His cheeks barely flushed as his smirk transformed into a smile and a small chuckle left his throat. He took a moment to memorize the feeling of your lips for later.

If that’s all it took to make his little Bonnie proud. He’d search every haystack for your needle in a heartbeat. You were his everything, he’d wait until the right moment to tell you. Especially when he was pretty sure the rest of the team was right around the corner listening to them. He’ll confront them later, for now he wants to stay in this moment with you. Watching his sweet hen, praising him. Grinning as she danced around with the needle he found, and even maybe hid.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Slang translations

Noo jist haud on - Now just hold on there

Heavens to Betsy - southern expression of surprise

Hen- a woman (Scottish term of endearment)

Bonnie - a beautiful woman, Scottish term of endearment typically paired with Bonnie lass

Lass/Lassie- beautiful woman, term of endearment

Shut yer pus - Scottish way of saying hush up, not literally referring to genitalia

Does a bear shit in the woods - kinda like a sarcastic response of “duh.” Whenever you’re asked a question. Hard concept to explain but I hope it’s not just me who got this from their southern mama

no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond - comparison of size

Author’s note: AAAAAAAA I DID IT. I wrote my first fic. Oh my god. I’m so tired but I hope everyone loves this as much as I did. Please go listen to the song as well. It’s “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood

General Taglist (comment to be added) : @glossythor @banana-beans-police

also thank you for the support for the series: @fruitsa1ad

[ordowrites]

OMG YOU WRITE FOR WANDERER!!

Can you do C, D, J, K, O and V please??

HELLO YES I DO A BELOVED HE IS V SMOOCHABLE EVEN IF HE WOULD DO THE STABBY (it would be worth it)

cw: nsfw, minors dni! some breeding / pregnancy mentions, yandere themes, pet play - ish, GN reader (referred to as partner and pet in this)

(for continuity, I'll just call him Wanderer in this but it can be for any iteration!)

(ask game)

C um - Anything to do with cum, basically

SO here's the fun thing - I like to play around with the idea that he does not actually have a dick, so he doesn't produce semen! (trans!scara propaganda on this blog). However, this lad would be a fun of using dragon dildos - you know those ones that produce fake cum? Yeah, he loves using those. The upside is the fact that he can choose the size, consistency and whatnot.

He does have a slight cum eating fetish, so if his partner has a dick, he takes his time to enjoy it. With partners who have a vagina, he just adores watching it drip from their cunt and shoves it right back in.

(bonus is no surprise kids, but can puppets have children?)

D irty secret - Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

SO he has a few - this man is kind of an obsessive lover. He is a bit of hyperfixated lover and one who always wants to feel close to the person who has his affections and attention - so he'll steal stuff of theirs. Not to wear, but to have. Maybe even get off to. Whether it's normal clothes, underwear, or just things from his partners house.

(A dirty fantasy of his is that he'd love to keep his lover locked up in a home, so they could never leave him. But is it really a dirty secret if he's expressed it once or twice? But don't worry, he won't do anything to warrant such...actions.)

This likely doesn't qualify but he definitely stalks his partner quite often - only to see how they're doing, of course. Anyone who looks at his partner slightly wrong just seems to go missing.

J ack off - Masturbation headcanon

He doesn't masturbate often - he doesn't really ever feel the desire to. But he loves watching his partner get themselves off. For Scaramouche (or the Wanderer), it's an enjoyable and interesting experience. Often times, this is how sex starts for himself and his partner.

He'll tell them what toys to use, how to use them - sometimes he'll mimic their actions on his own body. If he's feeling particularly spicy and mean, he'll tie his partner up and make them watch as he gets himself off while taunting them.

K ink - One or more of their kinks

For someone who was an experiment for Dottore, Wanderer actually has a small medical kink. Something about the cold metal table, metal bondage, and the complete fear and helplessness.

He also likes choking, marking his partner up with bites where they can't be hidden, and some humiliation.

Also - he'll never quite admit this out loud, but the Wanderer has a fetish for clothed and outdoor sex. Something about breaking rules, nearly being caught, and knowing his partner just can't keep their voice down when they're begging for him to fuck them or for release. Tsk.

O ral - Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

He actually likes to receive more than give, oddly enough - for someone who doesn't masturbate, he certainly likes to be on the receiving end of oral. There's just something about his partner with their arms bound behind their back, on their knees and in between his legs while they rut against his leg to get themself off. Oh - and add a collar and leash he can pull on, of course.

(he's also very good at giving oral, but oral is a nice reward to give to well behaved pets, you know? they have to ask him nicely for him to consider it, and hell, he'll do it on a whim if he's feeling particularly nice or frisky)

V olume - How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Oh, the Wanderer tries to be as quiet as possible - but in private, he's very noisy. Loud moans, gasps, and grunts. He tends to curse more often, too - especially if he's close to orgasm. Sure, the Wanderer teases his partner for being noisy themself, but the man sure is loud.

[bansheeboyy]

He thought the love potion was real cute and fun, making the ladies more flirty and bold, as evidenced by the plethora lipstick marks on his face and chest. A dab or two on his neck, just like the apothecary said, and the chicks around him got a lot more frisky.

A bit of harmless fun, he thought. That is…until he accidentally spilled the bottle down his shirtless front in the changing rooms after soccer practice for his university team.

“Oh fuck.” He cursed, trying to wipe the oily potion off his skin but only succeeding in massaging it deeper.

Like sharks smelling blood in the water his teammates sidled up to him, pupils dilated, with grins on their faces, all in various states of undress.

“Fellas chill. I-I know it smells good, it’s just my new cologne- ah!”

They pounced before he could attempt to run, soft lips latching onto his neck, his chest, countless strong hands pinning his half-naked form back against the lockers. They kissed and nibbled and sucked and chomped on his tender flesh, two of his teammates sucking on his nipples like limpets, groping all the while, his pecs, his arms, wrestling for the honour to kiss their new one true love.

“Holy fuck.” Caleb breathed, unable to fight the sensations of his erogenous zones being so thoroughly licked and massaged and caressed by his sweaty, half-naked teammates. His hair was tousled and gripped as his moaning peers desecrated his flesh. With a collective grunt they ripped the towel from around his waist and discarded it like the annoyance it was, freeing Caleb’s flopping semi as the overwhelming foreplay became insurmountable.

Caleb let out a conflicted gasp of pleasure as his entire growing member was engulfed by the warm, wet mouth of his team captain, who promptly started to suck the reluctant erection into full fruition. The potion-user’s face crumpled into panicked ecstasy as the sucking continued, his head rhythmically slamming into the hot, unyielding back of the captain’s throat; a searing violin riff amongst a symphony of pleasure and titillation.

“Oh fuck!” Caleb moaned, unable to stop himself, and his teammates only grew more masterful, playful, teasing and commanding in response to their love’s pleasure. They were doing a good job.

By the time Caleb’s shrieking first orgasm was dredged out of him he was covered in love bites, spank marks, the outlines of teeth, and was positively drenched in both sweat and salvia.

The mass of nude male forms collapsed to the changing room floor as he finished blasting his load down captain Mulaney’s throat, and Caleb had the pitiful hope that this meant they were finished. Alas, his pack of love dogs wanted him in a better position.

Someone was tickling his inner thighs with devilish prowess, already coaxing his flaccid penis back into erection, and another was sucking on his toes. Another still was slithering his massaging fingers into Caleb’s ass crack, making the lad yelp like a cartoon character. His balls were currently held in someone’s warm mouth, and they were humming all the while, anything to make their love feel as much pleasure as possible.

This carried on, every conceivable spot on the poor lad’s body being erotically tortured. He trembled with the pleasure of it, drowning in a sea of bodies. His naked form was held in an almost zero-gravity stasis, buoyed by the effortless strength of countless young men lifting and pushing and gripping him into whatever position best exposed him to their titillating touch. If he lifted his arms to try and pull himself up, a man colonised the newly exposed flesh of his armpit with kisses and teasing fingers; if he tried to position his legs in an attempt to stand an eager mouth would dive into his crack, work its demonically pleasurable magic and make his knees buckle. He was trapped.

By the time the potion had worn off Caleb had been driven to screeching, howling orgasm more times than he could count, many of which from prostate stimulation alone. A veritable swimming pool of his cum sat on his stomach, and the various loads of his teammates coated other areas. His cock throbbed in glorious agony, having beaten its record of most orgasms in a day by at least double.

The potency of such a high dose must have shortened the longevity because they couldn’t have been there longer than an hour and a half, as the next team training on the field hadn’t returned yet. Thank god. If another group of horny, sweaty jocks had barged into the changing room and been hit by the demonic pheromones Caleb wasn’t sure he’d have survived.

All in all, not too bad a way to go, though.

Horniness waning, the team got up and headed to the showers, the effects of the potion curbing any stray thoughts of how weird this had been. Luckily for Caleb. Maybe it was a good team building exercise, he thought as he limped to the showers before an uncharmed person noticed his…sticky situation.

It was certainly good cardio at least.

[misty-moth]

I wrote an Arthur scene for #12 Days of Arthur

Hi @oigimi and @scummy-writes 👋👀

Day 6: Courtship (at least… my loose interpretation)

Arthur x reader, ~370 words of flirting

Arthur had returned to the bedroom, a fresh scent radiating from his warmed skin. His hair was still a bit fluffier from bathing just a moment ago and only trousers hung from his hips. Finding exactly who he wanted to see most, he leisurely crossed the room, watching as a comb glided through your hair.

“Luv, I don't suppose you've seen my favorite shirt?” Arthur’s voice was close behind you, but you remained casually turned to him. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he assumed (correctly) that an impish grin adorned your face.

“Oh? Did you need help finding our shirt? Hmm…” his kisses began trailing down your neck, only stopping as he found the missing item covering your shoulders.

“I love a mystery far more than the next man, but I think I’m more curious as to why it went missing than where it ran off to,” he murmured into your neck, his hands wandering over the cloth. “I could have sworn I’ve bought our little crook a gorgeous blouse or two.”

Your hands continued brushing your hair, though far more clumsily as you did your best to ignore the frisky hands slowly exposing more of your bare thighs. “You know, in the future, it’s customary for the lady to procure their boyfriend’s hoodie. It’s a very treasured tradition.” You sighed, “But since this time period is tragically hoodie-less, I’ve graciously allowed a substitute.”

Arthur twirled you around then, an inquisitive look quickly followed by a teasing smirk. “Is that right? I don’t suppose the poor lads-of-tomorrow walk about with only trousers to their name?”

You shook your head. “Not usually, no. Although…” your thumbs latched through his belt loops. You pulled his hips to yours, and your palms slowly trailed up his torso before meeting his gaze again. “I think you could pull it off.”

He chuckled in a low tone, his deft hands tugging on your buttons. “What are the odds of my little thief stealing my trousers, too? I think I’ll need them this morning just as little as she’ll need that shirt.”

“Easily arranged. And who knows? Maybe she’ll let you borrow our shirt after.”

Writing Masterlist

Border

[southpawlynx]

For pride, using a quote from an Elder Scrolls in-game book, Ahzirr Traajijazeri, and my ESO character, Musha-dar.

"Find a wanton lass or a frisky lad, or several, in whatever combination your wise loins direct, and do not under any circumstances play hard to get. Our struggle against the colossal forces of oppression can wait. "

--Ahzirr Traajijazeri

[hasmashdoneanythingwrong]

To Ritsuka and Mash I offer this modified quote from a book in the Elder Scroll’s series:

“Life is short. If you have not made love recently, please, stop what you’re doing, and take care of that with all haste. Find a wanton lass or a frisky lad, or several, in whatever combination your wise loins direct, and do not under any circumstances play hard to get. Our struggle against the colossal forces of The Foreign God can wait.”

[nixhtlite]

Dominic Harrison (YUNGBLUD) x gn! Reader

buzzin' all night long

cw- alcohol consumption, slight nsfw scene

Dominic offered you to join him at a party with a few of his other friends and some family, after working so hard of some recent projects it’s always nice to wind down with some time spent with close ones. You saw many familiar and unfamiliar faces there, some friends he has yet to introduce you to, and some others like Adam(Guitarist) , Tom (Photographer) even Gavin (Manager). who you enjoyed talking to whenever you can.

You guys were sitting around a rather big booth, glasses practically ready to fall over. Dominic was practically off the walls as he was running around, his hands on all of you guys, yelling how happy he was. He was always quite the sight to see despite the alcohol making your vision blurry.

It took a minute before you got dom to come and sit with you even for just a bit, although if he didn’t get the chance to hop around he’s going to at least be all cuddly with you as he sits. “Oi yer practically gonna suffocate em Dom!” Adam spoke as his Scottish accent flowed rather smoothly out with his words.

“Nah nah i’m- i’m okay hh-dam” you said oblivious to the fact you butchered Adam’s name but that’s besides the point. You held Dominic close to you as he was pecking kissing all over you. “Seeeee they like it!” He said getting up close to Adam as if he was trying to prove a point. Tom of course was taking pictures of the scenes that played out to not only remember the moment but also to post on dominic’s Instagram and Twitter.

“You guys are pogy as hell, slow down on the drinks will ya?!” Tom teased aloud before dominic quickly retaliated “you slow down on the drinks Tom! We’re doin just fine ova here ain’t we y/n?” You shot a thumbs up as you ironically guzzled down a swig of your drink which only made Tom let out a sigh. Adam no matter how good he hides it, he’s practically fuckfaced. Gavin and Tom were probably the only slightly sane ones there, sure they had a bit to drink but no where near the amount compared to the three of you.

A bit of time passed before Gavin had to drag each of you out which Tom of course totally captured on camera. The drive back to the house you all stayed at was…something. Tom swore he saw you and Dom almost getting frisky in the backseat before calling you two out, Adam of course had to yell out “Eww! Get a room you two!“ as he purposefully bumped himself into Dom who of course ran into you, he tried to play off the face his face was practically smooshed into yours as an opportunity to turn it into a kiss.

As painful as it was to watch him try to play it off, you’re too drunk to call him out on how weird he looked trying to do such a thing, but you of course reciprocate the kiss. Though this didn’t stop Dom from immediately turning around and calling Adam a wanker for pushing him.

The drive eventually came to an end, though despite Gavin’s best efforts to drag you two out, you both practically shoo’d him away as you two stayed in the back of the car which…led to very intimate action between the two of you let’s say that. He always has such a warm touch and you can’t quite distinguish what is being felt from how buzzed you are.

His hands all up in your hair, your hands over his body as you take off his shirt as he begins to do the same with you. Tom and Gavin had Adam to deal with inside and are totally not using it as an excuse so they don’t have to walk out to see you two going at it. Though the most they saw was the very convenient movement of the car going back and forth. Gavin proceeded to scold you two the next day as he also had to go through the very painful and unfortunate process of disinfecting the backseats. He was not a happy lad for a good while until he finally let it go, though as Dominic’s manager he had that Stern upset tone for a bit which made you think he was *really* upset but it didn’t take much for him to forgive you two, just maybe less drinks next time.

[kwillow]

Also kinda funny thing, my oc is also kinda girl crazy like Ambroy lmao she likes girlies as she grows up (dragons kidnapping maidens much you need a tower to hold a pretty woman in?) but she's respectful never bothers his staff she knows he'd kick off but absolutely would check out other woman with him at events he's like ooh she's not bad. And she's like oh yea that dress compliments all the right places. And he's what. Harlot wench whore cease. And she'd laugh and assure him oh what chance does she have against such a gorgeous refined man such as himself so dazzling everyone in the room keeps looking at him they know they can't rival him.

Slightly NSFW following up on devoted anons whore daughter lmao I'm gonna do a few spaces then put it so hopefully you don't have to see if you don't want to

But also sometimes has girls in her room and Ambroy probably gets jealous lmao. She is a thot affectionately likes girls will love on girls likes one little bastard unicorn man. Would tease if he's getting huffy like aw my golden treasure don't be so jealous, you can come sit on my face too if you want. Cause she's a whore she's nasty she knows vulgarity and it's probably a bit flustering tbh like ma'am I do not wanna know what you're doing to those girls! I can imagine him shoving her face away lightly smacking at her lmao or who knows maybe he's into it just a little

Oh that's fun, hahaha!

I mean, she's better than he is for keeping her hands off his staff - er, at least when he was younger, he would get frisky with the female servants at times, to the point where his father refused to let him have personal female attendants. When he's older, though, he learns to maintain more professional boundaries... though not so professional that he would think better of having his maids wear ludicrously low-cut dresses, it seems.

He's enough of a lad that he'd enjoy having someone to check out ladies with, but you're right that too many compliments towards others would make him flip to "okay shut up about her what about how pretty I am"

Such language direct at him would fluster him for sure. He's certainly no angel (haha) or prude; he can be shockingly vulgar himself, but he's more used to being the pursuer than the pursued. There's also the matter of her being physically larger than him - he's used to being much taller than most people and especially women, so having someone who can look down at him and say such things, well, it's not a power dynamic he's used to. Is that to say he wouldn't secretly be kind of into it? Well... his aasimar version has a secret shameful attraction to the monstrous feminine, so, one could extrapolate certain things from that. What things - perhaps I shouldn't say on a good wholesome website like Tumblr.

(Oh and no worries about salacious stuff when it comes to my characters, I don’t bring such things up on my accounts often just because I prefer to write and draw my guys to be amusing and terrible rather than arousing, but it is a factor in their lives, and it doesn’t bother me.)

A lot of mythological creatures seem to have a particular fixation on girls, don't they? (Pardon the meme, couldn't help myself.)

Oh also completely forgot but important she has a forked tongue not immune to wiggly forked tongue which she has superb control over so she will stick her tongue out at him and move the forks to make a <3 shape at him with her tongue cause I think it's funny

That's super cute. I'm sure he'd be jealous that his tongue is weird but can't do anything cool like that.

[hermannco]

I loved the designs you did for cane and able in codotverse, reminds me of wendell and wild from the new stop motion movie!

what inspos went behind your designs if you are okay with telling

I've had those designs stashed for years

if anything Wendell and Wild GOT INSPIRED BY ME!!!! /j

Lmao thank you

I'm about to info dump and dont take anything I say as Canon, this is me hyperfxating and having LITERALLY too much information in my brain about to random ass motherfuckers.

Okay so, fun things. About Inspo.

ABOUT CAIN: Normal Cain. Soft, grandpa man.

2008 Cain. (From a HoM comic I am not too fond of except...)

Fucking sharp lunatic with his hair going EVERYWHERE. Constantly UNHINGED.

And so I decided to strike right on the middle bcs I always enjoyed the idea of this motherfucker flipping like a switch, also because he is an older brother, and he cleans the house and does the crops and tells stories and helps with the animals and maintains the house, and is fuzzy and very classic focused. But you know, he will also murder Abel in a split second and he gets a JOY doing it. Most of the time. But also enough to live with him normally and still have dinners and get mad when someone else hurts him.

His front hair flop also comes from the fact that he has to hide the "MARK OF CAIN" TM. The one that hits you 7 times worse if you hurt him. He has no control of what that shit does tho.

Also fun fact, the houses are located in Kentucky (Unless they are teleporting) and stuck in the 70s aesthetically LMAO.

So I sharpened the old man, still gave him kind eyes. I unbrokened his nose, because is impossible to break it without you dying, so this man is SURPRISINGLY DELICATE when it comes to fights.

A well groomed beard that can be easily messed up. And big CAINines.

The clothes are just classic Cain clothes but pushin a little bit more of the military ww1 aesthetic he is placed with.

The long and short, Grandpa please go to bed.

ABOUT ABEL:

Younger frisky freer brother.

A lot of Abel is based of Harveydont's Abel work. In all honestly we both worked on these bozos over the years.

Regardless here is the explanation for his look at least on my end.

He has always been a fancy little lad, a lot more pristine than his brother. A lot of the thought behind Abel is how he does a lot less of heavy work such as gardening or house renovating, but does things such as cooking and sweeping and organizing. Which is why he can always afford to be dressed to the nines.

Always seems to dress BETTER and be well more mannered. But while nicer he is also a trickster. So He can't be a circle.

Anyway, this picture also has done its millage.

This is the ORIGINAL sketch for Abel by Joe Orlando. I think my man nailed it first try. There has been A LOT of Cains over the years, but Abel always... ALWAYS relatively looks like this. And I have NO ROOM to complain.

As you can visibly see he hasn't changed much... I just put a knife to him and sharpened his features, as well give him bigger eyes than Cain bcs 1) makes him also look unhinged 2) Can also look more innocent.

Also his mutton chops are cleaner, in general his look is more put together and softer. He is supposed to be PRISTINE. The ring on his hand is because CANNONICALLY, Abel wears the gayest shit in the comics and I something he could fiddle with when nervous. (Mesh shirt while cooking, you know, gay club look just while cooking, iconic. Speak your truth, king.)

Also I made their skin darker bcs I am tan to darker color and I Was like, lol I can't be stopped now!

I hope this helps.

[qlmb]

Tinie Tempah is fronting a Channel 4 MOTORING show - Is TV this dry?

I'm seeing this man live. Yes, in concert. This year. I am absolutely excited to see him perform because I have been a fan of Tinie Tempah for years now, ever since I was 6 years old and blasting "Frisky" or "Pass Out" as loud as possible.

However, today's news on TVZone is that the "Disturbing London", multi-award winning, chart-topping, international superstar act.... is fronting a Channel 4 show about cars.

Whilst I have no issue with a Top Gear rival from Channel 4... (atleast, im assuming that is the audience they want to try and rival) It is the issue of out of everybody, why Tinie? After Tinie's first few series run of his own.... property show..... that was, also, on Channel 4, wouldn't this be abit jarring? It reminds me of the joke I made in 2021 whilst reviewing Tinie's property programme that it's like if Snoop Dogg started hosting Location Location Location, but let's not put it past them, I don't want to start predicting the future.

Tinie Tempah is a great lad. He's funny, witty and very understanding. Not a single bit of his ego has inflated the man as he is still open and humble... however. After building the rap image, it's tough to see him go from a hardcore rap career, all the way to showing his knowledge about cars and motors, whilst F1 analyst and stunt driver Naomi Schiff looks at the cars from the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s making a comeback too. It'll be a tough watch for sure, but I would be very curious on how this all pours out! Tinie, as I've said, is a great host, just abit weird to see the man talk so deeply about cars from a time lonnnngggg ago.

It's made me raise another question too, is TV hosting dying?

As we witness Tinie Tempah seamlessly transition from hardcore rap to vintage car enthusiast, it raises an intriguing question: Is TV hosting on the brink of extinction, desperately gasping for its final breath?

In the golden age of television, we marveled at the art of hosting. The eloquent voices, the impeccable suits, the ability to effortlessly juggle interviews (Davina, we love you for the scandalous "tell us everything" Big Brother UK interviews), and the occasional cheesy joke—these were the qualities we admired in hosts. But now, it seems anyone with a pulse and a Twitter account can call themselves a TV host.

Gone are the days of the erudite and sophisticated master of ceremonies. Instead, we're bombarded with hosts who seem more interested in garnering social media followers than actually, well, hosting. Isn't it abit off how Will Best is now going to be a huge TV face due to his role of Big Brother host? Not to mention, we are now seeing channels comission shows featuring people from social media, admittedly, some YouTubers can pull it off. Daniel Howell's UNTOLD documentary is one you should watch.

But wait, there's more! Brace yourself for the upcoming BBC One show, "The Mundane Chronicles," a riveting program where ordinary people are transformed into hosts overnight. Picture this: a checkout clerk named Steve is thrust into the limelight, hosting a primetime talk show. As he stumbles through interviews, his guests desperately search for an escape route. It's a train wreck you can't look away from, like watching a sloth attempt to perform brain surgery.

If that's not bizarre enough, let's delve into the realm of reality TV. In "Survival of the Fluffiest," contestants compete in a battle of wits and fur as they try to outwit each other in a cuddly showdown. Hosted by an animatronic teddy bear, this show blurs the line between entertainment and sheer lunacy. But hey, who needs substance when you can have stuffed animals battling it out for the crown? Why are you tuning out? No, you don't get it! Listen, steam all the full boxset and the spinoff and the gossip show for free on Channel 4! Stream it first, why aren't you STREAMING?

So, as Tinie Tempah delves into the world of vintage cars, we can't help but wonder: Is TV hosting a dying art? With hosts more interested in viral moments than meaningful conversations, perhaps it's time to bid adieu to the days of genuine talent and welcome the era of unfiltered mediocrity. No more iconic faces in the future, but more random, one-hit wonder TikTokers. After all, who needs a skilled host when you can have a YouTube sensation teaching us how to fold socks?

[alex-dontknow]

The Agony That He Carries

Characters used: Azriel and Zayes (OCs)

Type: Drabble, Hurt No Comfort

Necessary Warnings: Major Character Death, semi-explicit detail.

This fic is exactly 444 words... I like that—

this is just a long drabble of the future of two of my OCs... it obviously doesn't end all that well. Poor lads.

also got inspired by those blasted poem tiktoks—

"Do you hear that?"

A gentle, tremulous voice was barely audible over the racket of thunder and the incessant ticking of the clock tower above. The soldier felt something throb within, banging desperately for escape. Was it anger? Anguish? Exasperation?

Of course he could hear it. How could he not? The voice was referring to the click-tick of the secondhand of the clock, and they were right beneath it. Each stroke sent ravaging chills through the soldier's body as it ticked closer to o'clock. If he had the capability, he would scream at the voice for being so ignorant, shout for being so mindless and moronic and so willingly blindsighted. With their circumstance, how can it ask such an inane question?

Regardless, the soldier nodded.

"... Time... it never stops... constantly linear with no repeats or hiccups..."

The soldier had to bite his tongue to hold himself from snapping at the voice, who only grew quieter and huskier as it rambled on.

"... And it never lets go. That's the agony that it carries... it'll never stop holding onto you, until you're no longer there for it to cling on to..."

The voice laughed, a frisky, pensive chuckle that barely hinted the pain beneath.

"Will you hold on to me? When time lets me go, will you grab me by the wrist and not let me be lost?"

The soldier dug his hand into the other's, pale sullied skin intertwined with bronze with mahogany red blending both colours together on a war-torn canvas. Tight fingers grasped others that weakened and became ashen.

"Will you let me go, dear raven?"

The soldier shook his head. He couldn't quite tell rain from tears.

He looked down at the voice—the face—equally doused in mahogany as his eyes—fading tones of a dulled hazel—reflected the soldier's own hues of gold and green.

It was the soldier's turn to speak now, fingers clenched tight around his friend's limpened hand.

"Lieutenant," he choked, "my friend, my Orion— please don't go."

The bell above chimed its dronous cacophony, forever thwarting the words this soldier desperately wanted to say.

One chime to feel the tightness around his fingers loosen eternally.

Twice to see those beautiful, sublime eyes slip closed.

Thrice to smell the dreadful stench of post-mortem soreness arise.

The fourth to taste the bitter, unforgiving savour of grievous remorse.

Finally the fifth chime—the loudest to the raven—to hear that final, ultimate gasp of withering life dissipate into silence.

The raven laid his head atop his lost one's hand, an eternal omen of time's permanence and mercilessness.

As rain and tears became separate, Azriel let his anguish consume him.

[nerdychick13]

Greetings from Casa Amor! It’s me, Finesse, catching a spare moment to write these few thoughts before I return to my handsome bedmate, his three equally dashing companions, and of course the gals from the villa.

Let’s start things off with when I arrived at Casa Amor. It’s so cute here. Very festive and tropical like a vacation away from vacation. But the best part were the lovely lads I met when I entered. Andy was a dear to meet me first. I just love how sweet he is. He has a cute face and such a sexy six-pack. I also love that he’s good with animals because I’m a huge animal lover myself. Then I met Francis, the self-proclaimed hippie. I got so many good vibrations from him. I love his chill demeanor. I need more chill in the villa, honestly. His ombré hair is gorgeous but his smile is even better! Next I met Hamish, the estate agent. He could sell water to a fish with a face like that. His chat could use a bit of workshopping, bless him. Finally, up on the roof terrace was Marshall, Ozzy’s identical twin! You all want to know who I think is more handsome? Well after much consideration for three whole minutes of conversation with him, I can honestly say the more handsome twin from Newcastle is … OZZY!! 🥳

I know. All that build up and you’re loyal to your villa boy. Ozzy has a certain quite confidence, a humility, and maturity that Marshall lacks. Marshall tries to tell jokes but they land like a brick in the NBA Finals. He also bad mouthed Ozzy. Ozzy never once spoke a word out of turn about his brother but in my first conversation with Marshall, he feels the need to degrade his brother. That isn’t classy at all and immediately put me off him. The kissing game we played in Casa was quite fun (any excuse to snog four handsome men, right!) and I chose to share my bed with Francis that night. The next morning they all decided to make me brunch! It was so hard to choose between Hamish’s bacony fry-up (I do love a dirty fry-up) and Andy’s pancakes. Ultimately though I chose Andy’s pancakes with mixed berries and whipped cream. He’s so charming, in another circumstance I’d repurpose that fruit and whipped cream for another dish at my table 😏. Sorry, Casa Amor has me a bit frisky as it were. I learned a lot about the Casa lads in the Kiss and Tell challenge. Hamish cheated once or twice and can’t remember (or won’t say) just how many times or what the situation was. I don’t trust him, but then he insulted me by saying “I’d rather put my eggs in the other girls’ baskets.” Of all the gall! Well he needn’t come looking to me to carry him back to the villa. Francis chose to share how his girlfriend peed on his jellyfish sting. I could have lived without knowing that fact. Andy posed for a nude calendar for charity. My, oh my do I need this calendar. We must support causes we care about (yes that’s what matters here). I didn’t pay much attention to Marshall. I can’t get past how he spoke about Ozzy. Moving swiftly on…

Amy, Chloe, & Grace were quite shocked to see me. I couldn’t forgive Amy for kissing Zeph, not yet. I have to make her work for my trust again. We had an absolute blast in the Sexy Charades challenge. Francis, Andy, and Chloe made perfect partners for each round. Marshall seems to think we should be together because of our twin-ness. I highly disagree. I don’t care for him as a person and I don’t want him in my bed. Francis, on the other hand, is caring, gentle, attentive, passionate, and very skilled in female pleasure. At the risk of over sharing, I’ll close this chapter by saying he left me with a very satisfying ending to my second day in Casa Amor.

Oh! I found a mysterious note in my suitcase. I wonder who thought to leave me something so sweet? I do so hope it was Ozzy. He & I are so compatible, patient, and attracted to each other. I’m getting proper melty over him! Oh my days, my heart aches for Ozzy but at least Francis is good company until I can return to my love.

With hugs & kisses from Casa,

Finesse