#froggy x red

[smolandweirdwriter]

Who's your fave ship (canon or noncanon) in TLOS and why? 🎙️

of the canon, I'd have to say red & froggy or jack & goldilocks. non-canon, not sure. red and goldie had some interesting tension so...?

[two-frogs-screaming]

wip (rgb color wheel)

[randomanimaticse]

SHATTERED - Sonic Prime x reader

Chapter 1 | INCEPTION I

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

As an explosion went off in a mountain in the distance, Sonic ran through green hill collecting some rings, hurrying to the mountain, where his friends are fighting robotnik, he ran past big and froggy making him spin around.

Sonic went back and stopped Big from spinning, "Sorry, Big! Sorry, Froggy! Can't chat-- gotta go help our friends!" Sonic said running in place and ran off.

"No problem, Sonic!" Big said as froggy croaked.

"Home is where your friends are, as they say" It cuts to a memory of Sonic and his friends having a picnic, "And that's green hill!" Then of Sonic watching Amy admire a palm tree. "Where the best beaches," then of Tails flying next to a coconut. "Palm trees," Then of big holding a bunch of chili dogs making Sonic happy "And chili dogs, are just the tip of the iceberg!"

Then it cuts to Tails, Amy, Knuckles, and Malachite flying on the Tornado. "We've saved this place a million times, from this doofus." Then to Robotnik turning around to face the camera doing his evil laugh.

It cuts to shadow destroying a rock seemingly looking for something. "And then there's Shadow, it's complicated. More on him later."

Then to Sonic and his friend looking into the distance. "The fact is, we never lose. 'Cause when you've got a crew like mine," Sonic says as he runs up the mountain. "There's nothing that can stop you!"

"HEY GUYS! I MADE IT!"

"You're late!"

The team of mobians glared at the speedy blue hedgehog at his tardiness, said blue hedgehog shrugging his shoulders sheepishly with a grin and short chuckle.

"Sonic!?"

Dr. Eggman spun away from the shiny crystal embedded into the rock at the annoying voice of his enemy, the surrounding Badniks also following his gaze.

"Eggman!" Sonic smirked.

"Just in time to watch me claim the Paradox Prism and transform your disgustingly green world into something more... me." his hands lifted up to his side in an evil stance, staring at the mobian team, or sonic more specifically, through the glass prism, letting out his infamous cackle.

Dropping from the entrance of the cave, Sonic landed with a bored expression, his hand cupping his mouth as he gave an overly faked...

"Yaawwn..."

The mobian team dropped behind him as they all, Sonic included, settled into a fighting position.

"Yep, I yawned you, egghead!"

At the mockery, Eggman growled in a fit of rage, ordering his Badniks to attack the team with a pointed finger.

Both sides got into action, the mobian team easily overpowering and defeating each of Eggman's robots as they came their way.

Sonic destroyed a few bots before spin dashing at a Caterkiller, resulting in the worm bashing him away, the hedgehog losing a few rings and soaring back through the air with a "Whoa!"

"Sonic!" 

A furry orange fox with two tails, using them to helicopter through the air, quickly caught him by his wrists, staring down at Sonic with a frown, clearly still upset at his delayed entrance.

"Yo, Tails!"

Sonic replied with a grin, swinging his legs back as Tails launched him forward in the air, spin attacking at two Buzz Bombers and speeding beside a red echidna with large, spiky gloves, the echidna eyeing the hedgehog with a scowl.

"Knuckles!" Sonic cheered, kicking away a Badnik, the echidna rolling his eyes and turning away from him, "You okay, buddy?"

"Nothing flusters me, Sonic," Knuckles grabbed a Buzz Bomber as it flew into him, throwing it into another incoming Badnik without so much as a sweat, both he and Sonic watching as both robots exploded.

"Except when you're late."

Sonic only shook his head with a hand on his hip at Knuckles as he ran off, not noticing the same Caterkiller from before coming up behind him, quickly getting saved by a flying white bat as she came up behind him and kicked the worm away.

"Oh, thanks Rouge!" he waved at her.

"Don't mention it... literally."

From another end of the cave, a pink hedgehog drove her hammer into a Burrobot, shoving it off as the head landed elsewhere, hopping from the ledge to the head, smiling as a flock of Flickies flew out from inside the bot.

"Amy!" Sonic leaned against the head with a smirk as he greeted her.

"Sonic! Where have you been?"

"You know, the usual... got a little side tracked."

Amy playfully rolled her eyes at his response as Sonic spins up a wall and destroys a few Buzz Bombers, striking one in the direction of a (F/C) lynx of the incoming badnik, slashing the robot in half with their claws.

"Malachite!" he ran in their direction, throwing a loose arm over their shoulders and pulling their faces close.

They huffed out at the sudden half embrace, their enhanced hearing is never well enough to catch when the speedy hedgehog comes their way, letting a small smile pass.

"Sonic," they countered, "What is this? A role call?"

"What? Can't call out my friends' names mid-battle?" he poked at them, standing back to back with them as a swarm of Badniks surrounded them.

Sonic punched and kicked at them while Malachite cut and slit through them, the bots exploding. 

"Get that rock out of the ground!" 

Dr. Eggman furiously shouted out, the Burrobots retreating from fighting to the rock that held the paradox prism in place, drilling at it as fast as they could despite the electric shocks that would knock them back, really getting nothing done regardless.

"Want something done..." Eggman grumbled, climbing up into his mech, "Do it yourself."

"Sonic, we don't know what the prism is capable of!" Tails warned his hedgehog friend as he rolled his way, beating the Badniks, "Be careful."

Sonic rolled his eyes and darted off, Tails groaning at his carelessness.

"If Eggman wants it, it can't be good!"

"Yup, got it." Sonic replied casually as he ran Eggman's way.

The villain controlled his giant robot from inside, its claws taking hold of the prism and pulling up, Eggman letting out another of his evil laughs.

"Sonic, seriously!"

"Step away from the rock, Eggman."

"Huh, not this time, you fool!"

Narrowing his eyes, anger and the desperate need to defeat the villain overcoming his senses more than anything, Sonic sped up faster towards the prism as Eggman began pulling it out of its rock, rolling up in a ball.

"Sonic, wait!" Tails called out.

"Sonic, no!"

The groups cries fell on deaf ears as Sonic collided with the prism, the force of the breaking pushing them all back, flying in the air.

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

"One day I'll destroy that hedgehog, and the world will be a brighter place for it, lit by neon."

"As long as I'm around, you'll always have a wingman!"

"The forest is the most beautiful place on Earth."

"I don't need the details, just tell me who to smash."

"You may not like the way I do things, but I get things done!"

"Don't worry, I've always got your back!"

"Hey I may be the one who can bring everyone together, but there's only one one hedgehog they'll follow into battle."

"Heh heh! I don't need an army when I got a friend like you, Sonic!"

"Listen to your friends, you might need it one day."

"I will rule the world, and no rodents are going to stop me!"

"We'd follow you anywhere, Sonic."

"Nothing could break our friendship, Sonic."

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

Sonic stands up and groans "That's a sonic boom of a headache." He starts walking forward "Wh-Where am I? Huh?" There was a truck coming straight for him. "Aah!" He yelled before getting hit in the face by the truck.

As he climbed on top of the truck he looked around confused, "Uh" when he heard something behind of him, he turned around to see what it was, it was presumably a train and he ducked before he got hit in the face again. "Close one."

The truck shook and Sonic fell off of it onto a conveyor belt, he got up looking around still confused, but then he fell off of the conveyor belt before he could say anything. Before Sonic could get up again, he got swept up by a broom machine before getting thrown to the side.

"Why can't I remember how I got here?" Sonic said as he got back on his feet. "Think, Sonic, think, whoa what is up with my shoes?" He said examining them "Huh, I haven't seen anything like this since I ate truck stop chili dogs."

"Tails? Amy? Malachite? Heck, I'll even take Knuckles at this point" He said walking towards a mobian on one of the conveyor belts. "Uh, pardon me, what do you call this place?" He asked the mobian who was ignoring him. "Are you ignoring me? You're ignoring me. Why are you ignoring me? Why is everyone ignoring me?" He asked flailing his arms around.

"Can anybody give me a straight answer around here? And you're busy staring at nothing. Okay"

Sonic covered his ears because of a loud blaring sound "Welcome to New Yoke City. You're welcome. Never heard of it. Must be far from home."

"Where are the mountains, the beaches, the palm trees?" He looked to the side and saw a familiar purple cat. "Big! Froggy!" Sonic said as he hugged big. "Whoa, uh."

"Am I glad to see familiar faces! I thought I was losing my rings, if you know what I mean." He said while big was looking around for any robots. "What is going on here? Are you wearing pants?"

"Unidentified citizen. Alert! Alert!" A robotic voice said.

"Big! Don't go!"

"You are in violation of city ordinance 27 B/6"

"Sorry, I don't speak robot."

"By the authority of the Chaos Council, stand down or be disassembled."

"Chaos Council, sounds important. Give me directions, and I'll take it from there." Sonic said as he tried to run. "Wha-? Whoaa!" He exclaimed unable to control his running.

Sonic turned to an alley pressed up against the wall, trying to take sharp turns, "Whoa! what is up with my shoes?" He said before crashing into a wall. "Ugh! I'm not used to all these walls, and where are my rings?" He said checking for his rings, before almost getting hit by laser bullets.

He dodged the lasers that were being shot at him and spin dashed the robots "Robots without flickies? Now that's new." Sonic said before dodging more laser bullets and speeding away.

Running into the streets almost hitting a truck and then another truck, and then another and it was coming straight for him, but he ducked underneath it. "This is not working. I gotta get off the ground!" He said wall jumping onto a train.

Still trying to dodge the laser bullets while on the train, he notices a building being contructed and gets an idea. Sonic threw himself over to where the building was being constructed and slid through the building. Stopping on the edge trying to dodge the bullets. When the floor was close enough, he jumped off the ledge. Destroying the robots that were chasing him.

He landed on his feet panting not knowing he was being watched. "Smog, concrete, evil robots, it's like everything I hate in one place!" Sonic said looking around "Where am I?"

"Oh, no!" He gasps, looking at something familiar and speeding to the right. "Please be wrong. Please be wrong!" He stammered running up a building into the sky turning to look at the place he was in.

Sonic looked right, "the Loop-de-Loop." Then left "Hedgehog's Pass." Then right again, "and that should be Tails' lab! Aw, tails, what happened?"

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

BEFORE PRISM SHATTER

Tails is in the Tornado, turning to where the fight is. "Come on Egghead, show me what you got!" Sonic shouted.

Dr. Robotnik laughs "That's the spirit, rodent -- the spirit of a loser!"

"Takes one to know one. Ha!"

"Why do I feel like Eggman's keeping us off the main stage?" Amy asked.

"Eggman's got us fighting the badniks so he can have Sonic all to him self." Knuckles replied.

"Come on! Let's crash his show!" Malachite responded, cutting and slicing through the robots.

"One scrambled egg, coming up!" Sonic said spin dashing the robot.

"Hmm I don't like this, Dr. Eggman's too smart not to realize how terribly positioned he is." Tails said looking at his gadget "It's like he's --" tails sharply gasps. "He's not in there."

"Quaking in your tiny shoes at the might of my Eggcrusher? It's understandable I'm rather astounding."

"In your dreams! You bring it, I break it, Eggman. That's the game, and I'm still the undefeated numero uno." Sonic said doing a lot of poses.

"Then put your quills where your mouth is, unless you're scared!"

Tails shot some laser bullets at the robot "It's a trap, Sonic! It's a trap!"

"I don't see a trap, though I guess by definition I wouldn't see a trap if there was one."

Dr. Robotnik laughs

"Something funny egghead?"

"You are! Watching you try to think with that two-cent brain of yours is hilarious!"

"Sonic! You gotta listen! It's a trap!" Tails yelled.

"You're as stupid as your mutant, two-tail fox friend is ugly"

"Oh, you're really asking for it." Sonic barked

"Yes.. I am!" Robotnik marveled.

"You can mess with me, Eggman, but no one messes with my best friend." Sonic said running towards the robot.

"Sonic, no!" Tails yelled.

Sonic spin dashed the robot making a huge explosion once it hit the ground. Some mobians fall back due to the pressure. Big drops his fishing rod and catches froggy. The mountain cracks and reveals more cracked rock.

"Whoa! Didn't know I had that in me. That's what you get for messing with my friends, Egghead" Sonic said as he looked in the robot, but Robotnik wasn't there. "Huh? where's Eggman? He must have ejected. Well, looks like we win again. Tails! He's not even in here. Lame right?" He exclaimed to his two-tailed fox friend.

"Too chicken to face in us in person. Whatevs! Couldn't have done it without ya, buddy!" Sonic yelled, watching tails fly away in his plane. "Huh."

"Whoa, Tails looks upset" Knuckles stated.

"And tails never gets upset." Amy said with worry.

Malachite nodded in agreement

Robotnik laughs evilly from far away "It worked! Without the power of that blue buffoon, we would've had to dig for months! Thank you for the earthquake Sonic, and thank me for my plan, which went off spectacularly!"

"And it worked too!" Cubot added.

"Of course it worked I just said that!" Robotnik yelled. "Ugh, let's go papa wants his prism" He ordered, throwing his walkie-talkie to Orbot. As he walked away Orbot and Cubot fist bumped.

Sonic ran over to tails' lab putting in the code '1992' before opening and walking the lab. "Yo! How's my genius friend?" He asked tails. "Hey Sonic," Tails sighed. "I brought you some comics." Sonic stated. "Thanks Sonic you can put them over there"

Sonic chuckles, "How about a little break from the big brain stuff?"

"I can't. Something's not right. I gotta figure out what Eggman is up to."

Sonic frowns and walks over to Tails, and turns his chair around to face him. "Sorry, Tails. I didn't mean to upset you. In fact, I've never seen you so upset. I just kinda got into the moment and.."

"Sonic, it's cool. Really. But thanks. I appreciate it." There was a moment of silence before Tails started speaking again. "Don't you think that Eggman wasn't in the Eggcrusher?"

"Uh, not really. I mean, he is a total chicken. But I did find a hunk of junk in the cockpit where his big butt shoulda been."

"Hunk of junk, huh? Wonder if that was all part of the trap? Tell me you didn't toss it in the barge of badnik parts."

"Uh." Sonic speeds away and comes back with it in his hands "Junk speedy delivery! You smash it, we dash it" Sonic beamed "Whoa, lemme see that! It wasn't a trap, it was a trick. You've never created a blast that destructive. I think that this device was some sort of speed amplifier. Long story short, he used your speed against you!" Tails explained.

"The fox is on to something."

"Huh?"

"Rouge?" Both Sonic and Tails asked.

"How did you get in here?" Sonic inquired.

"He played you for a fool, Blue." She remarked

"Pfft! Please!" Sonic replied putting a hand on his hip.

"What would he need a massive explosion in that area for?"

"Well.. I have a hunch" Rouge said as she spread her wings and jumped down off of the ledge she was sitting on to fly. "You see, I've been searching for years for a super rare and shiny gem called the paradox prism." She explained flying towards tails' tool board stopping a few inches away from it.

"Paradox Prism?" Sonic ask

"Legend speaks of an untold power, and it's buried deep within the Green Hill bedrock. My guess is that he used your power against you to try to find it." She replied.

"Fascinating. But what I really want to know is, how did you get in here?" Sonic inquired.

Rouge looked at him in disbelief. "You left the door open." She said pointing to a wide open garage door. Gather your crew and meet me at the top of the Loop-de-Loop. Let's find out what Eggman is up to."

At the top of the mountain, Robotnik was there "At last. The Paradox Prism! So close. It was only a rumor for so long, and now inches from my grasp. Countless times I have tried to modernize this hunk of earth only to be defied by that simpleton Sonic." Robotnik hissed

"Now, it's finally going to happen. And it's all the sweeter because the blue baboon handed me this prize.." He clapped his hands "without realizing it. So, thank you, Sonic. For now I stand at the summit of--"

"Of the mountain." Orbot interrupted.

"..of a new age! The age of--"

"Pretty lights?" Cubot asked interrupting Robotnik.

"..the age of the Eggman Empire!"

"Ooh, fancy!" Both Orbot and Cubot said.

"And now.." Robotnik screamed as he fell into the entrance he made. "Why didn't you idiots tell me how big that first step was?" He shouted before getting back in his robot.

"Sorry, boss" Orbot replied.

Robotnik began to walk down the path. "Where is it? I know you're in here somewhere." He said as his flashlight made the prism shine bright and reflect throughout the cave. He chuckled when he saw it, but then it turned into wicked laughter.

"I think Rouge is right. Eggman picked that spot for a reason. Why else would he hide a power amplifier in his own Eggcrusher?" Tails spoke.

"So, we start at the scene of the crime." Knuckles stated

"Exactly. Lets go investigate and see if anything might lead us to this Paradox Prism you guys are talking about" Amy added.

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

NOW

"Paradox Prism. Right. That's what Eggman was after. How?" Sonic asked falling on his face. "No, no, no. I didn't leave Green Hill. This is Green Hill. He did it. I don't know how he did it, but he did it. Eggman won."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

This took a long time, oh my gosh. But the first chapter is out! (Finally)

I like calling Robotnik by his actual last name for some reason, don't ask me why.

I had to rewrite from the part where Sonic asks "Paradox Prism?" To when Knuckles said "So, we start at the scene of the crime." That was such a hassle.

Also since this chapter is done, I will now focus more on requests, and the next chapter will take a while since i'm only 17 minutes into the episode.

[mmogurl]

Daddy Issues Part 4: Comfort

18+ | 3.2k | Homelander X Reader |  protective homelander, reader’s back story is a little dark, reader might be a bit of a nympho, mentions of suicide, rape, assault, alcoholism, emotional child abuse. This was supposed to be the last chapter, but the story has officially been extended by at least another chapter or maybe one more if I’m feeling froggy. Enjoy!

Part 1: Savior | Part 2: Baseline | Part 3: Spoiled | Part 4: Comfort

Tags: @screaming-potato

As Homelander busies himself putting out the fire, you attempt to undress for bed, but since the tent is not high enough for you to stand in, you find the task much more complicated than it should be. It’s a strained process of getting on your back and awkwardly pulling your designer jeans off, especially as they get stuck around your calves and you flounder like a fish to get them fully past your ankles. You’ve literally never had to take your pants off like this and you consider it a downside to camping.

Other than the lack of height, the tent is rather spacious, pleasant even. You sit up, sliding your hoodie over your head and fold it briefly before tossing it to the corner. Looking down at your chest, you beam when you see the Journey logo on your t-shirt. You’ve never actually been to one of their shows, but you still really love the band. In fact, it’s one of the few good memories you have of your mother: listening to music together. It’s one thing she had good taste in at least.

In nothing but your shirt, bra, and underwear, you snuggle down into the bed Homelander has prepared that takes up most of the tent’s floor. There’s some kind of padding beneath you that is way more comfortable than it has a right to be considering you’re sleeping on the surface of dirt and grass. He’s lined it with an unraveled sleeping bag, large enough for two to lay on, with another placed on top to use as a blanket. It’s clear he has no intention of sleeping separately from you, even when in the close confines of this shelter.

It’s already quite dark by the time Homelander unzips the outside flap to the tent and comes inside. He drops a few bags of supplies to the side and turns on a solar powered lantern. You squint as your eyes adjust and he begins to disrobe, wondering briefly if he turned the light on just to torture you. He unfastens the bib of his supesuit, pulling it down to the side to reveal the zipper underneath. You can barely concentrate on the small talk he offers as he removes the jacket and places it in a neat pile besides his already folded cape.

“I think our first camping trip was a success, don’t you?”

“Mmhm,” you reply close-mouthed, already biting your lip as he takes off his belt, unbuttoning the top of his tight blue pants.

You can’t take it anymore and turn away from him, trying to calm yourself as you feel the blush rising in your cheeks, your heart pounding. Sure, he slept in those damn red briefs every night, but usually he came into the bedroom already wearing them. You never got to watch him strip though and you can’t help but be overwhelmed by the desire you’re feeling as a result.

It’s not like these thoughts are helpful, since you already tried to broach the topic of your relationship earlier and Homelander dodged you, opting instead to talk about his past. You’re grateful he opened up to you, but still feel tormented by your feelings for him. Considering the two of you are already going through the motions of living as a happy couple, it feels strange to not be romantically involved.

You hear the rustle of sleek fabric as Homelander slides into the makeshift bed, close, but still a too-safe distance away. “Did you have a good time tonight?” he asks, his tone with a hint of worry as though he’s afraid you didn’t.

Braving the vision of his bare body that no doubt awaits, you turn back to face him. He’s propped himself up on his pillow, his weight on his elbow as he looks you over for signs of negativity. Thankfully, he’s mostly covered with just his waist up exposed. It’s still difficult not to gulp as he continues to talk.

“Were the hot dogs too burnt? Maybe I should get a grate for the pit. Make it like a grill…” he’s rambling on about his ideas, looking off to the side as he considers the possibilities.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s as nervous as you are or if he’s just oblivious. It’s sometimes hard to tell with Homelander.

Clearing your throat in an attempt to focus your sex starved brain onto the matter at hand, you interrupt him. “Yeah they were a little burnt, but it’s OK. It’s not like I’ve ever cooked a hot dog over an open fire before. So, I’m not complaining.” You shift between the blankets, rolling onto your back as you cross your hands beneath your head.

Homelander lets out a sigh and your turn your head to see that he’s mimicked your position. He’s looks at the ceiling of the tent, folding one hand under his head and resting the other on his stomach. He glances back at you, giving a small hum in response, as if he were lost in thought for a moment.

“Yeah, it’ll be better next time. We just need a little practice,” he says with an unsure grin, turning his attention back to the ceiling. It’s quiet for several moments and it seems like the conversation is going to die, until he finally adds, “You know. I’m glad you’re here… with me.”

You give him a touched smile, surprised by his direct display of affection. You’re used to reading between the lines with Homelander, judging how he feels mostly by his actions when there is a lack of meaningful words. Even though you know he appreciates your company, especially given he is so desperate for it, it’s a nice change to hear him actually admit it out loud.

“Yeah, me too,” you say feeling at a loss for words. “This was a cool idea.”

His features seem to relax considerably when you return the gesture with gratitude. You can’t help but get distracted by the cold glow of the lantern reflecting in and accentuating his already blue eyes, but you don’t miss when they travel down your form. His glance flicking down your shoulder and to your side, then hanging longer than usual at the tease of your thighs peering out from under the sleeping bag.

When he sees you take notice, he tries to play off his leer with concern. “Are you cold?” he questions, his voice coming off casual.

You raise your brow knowingly, but let is slide. “Nah,” you reply with a smirk. “These bags are surprisingly warm. They’re almost too hot.” You glance down at your legs and decide to kick the blanket off further. “Besides, I always sleep like this.”

His eyes darken as he takes in the expanse of your bare legs. Homelander swallows, trying to keep his cool, but failing miserably as his gaze lingers persistently on your newly exposed skin.

“Always, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, the corner of his mouth twitching.

You had hoped to get his attention, sure, but now you can’t take the oppressive way he is staring at you. You’re not sure if it’s creeping you out or turning you on - it’s probably a combination of both. You try to think of a way to make things feel less awkward and manage to murmur out something anything but.

“Besides, at least I have a shirt on… You’re a pair of briefs away from being completely naked.” It sounds better in your head, than when you actually say it. Shit! Your squirm internally, realizing you’ve just backed yourself further into a corner. If this were any other situation, you’d gladly take the opportunity to jump his bones, but this is different. He is different.

Homelander scoffs with a look of incredulity. “I-I’m never cold,” he tries to assert with false bravado, but his tone falters under your gaze. He stumbles over his next words, trying to maintain his usual cockiness. “I’m a supe… A-and my body generates a lot of heat.” He mutters, trying to excuse his propensity to wear minimal clothing in bed.

“So, that’s why it always gets so damn hot,” you consider openly, distracted momentarily by the revelation. It seemed every night since you started staying with Homelander, you woke up sweating, having to kick the covers off completely from the sweltering heat. “Hmm,” she muses, “Well at least we won’t need a space heater in here.”

“No need for that,” he mutters, his tone lower than before.

The drop in octave is a subtle warning that forces your attention back to him, but not quickly enough. In a flurry of movement, the sleeping bags ruffle loudly as Homelander pounces on top of you. His eyes are wild, almost feral, as they rove over your body, his hands pinning your arms to the ground.

“I can keep you warm, beautiful,” his voice is smooth and strangely confident considering how cringe the line had been. You’re pretty sure from the way he was stammering just moments ago, that it’s an act though. You can’t possibly mind, given the close proximity of his body and how good he feels weighing down on you.

But the reality of what’s happening begins to dawn on you, your eyes growing wide as he traps you beneath him. Why is he making a move now after he’s ignored the temptation of you for so long? And why does it feel so forced and wrong? It should feel perfect given everything else the two of you have shared so far.

You find protest and confusion are the first emotions that war to the surface. “U-Uh… Homelander?” you say stupidly, unable to even focus with the feel of his bare legs against yours and his cock stiffening against your thigh. “W-what are you doing?”

Homelander’s chest rumbles with a low growl when you question him, as if your words pissed him off. “What does it look like?” he snaps back, his voice dripping with annoyance.

He tightens his grip on your forearms, his knees forcing your legs further apart so he can settle his hips against yours. He’s untethered, unlike his usual calculated persona, and there’s an element of desperation marking his features.

His eyes are dark now, the sky blue color drowning in dilated pupils. “I’m doing what I should have done weeks ago.”

“W-wait…” you find yourself babbling. “Shouldn’t we- Shouldn’t we talk about this first?” You gulp, the spit getting stuck in your throat as your try to swallow. You plead with him, your lip trembling slightly with the implications of what this will mean for your fledgling relationship.

He starts lifting up your shirt with a devious grin plastered across his face and you’re instantly torn between so many warring emotions. Lust and the deprivation of release that sex had provided you with is hugely present, but there’s also a remorse, a shame hanging heavy on your conscience. It would be so easy to let go and indulge in what he was offering, but….

“I don’t want to fuck this up!” you bark out suddenly, almost confusing yourself by the sound of it.

Homelander’s smirk falters for a moment, his eyes slightly narrowing in response. His hand pauses in the act of lifting your shirt any further, and he looks positively morose.

He pulls away completely then, retreating back to his own space and leaving you cold in the absence of his heat. Homelander regards you with a cross expression, urging you to clarify.

“What do you even meant by that?” he asks, the lurid aggression now gone from his voice, replaced with sharp accusation. “I thought you wanted this.”

“I do,” you say feeling stupid for sounding so contrary. “But, you haven’t shown any interest in me all month. Then all of a sudden you jump my bones? Why did you change your mind so suddenly about us?”

Homelander lets out a weary sigh, folding his arms against his chest as he looks away. He’s clearly not enjoying this change of mood, but he does offer a response.

“Nothing’s changed suddenly,” he grumbles with bitter emphasis. “I’ve wanted you for weeks now, you have no idea…” he admits sullenly, his eyes shifting back to you.

“It’s just…” he trails off with a groan. “It’s a little harder for me than you might think. And I didn’t want you to think…” He stops himself short, letting a huff through his nose before continuing in a much softer tone. “To think that I just wanted you… for that…”

You stare at him bewildered for a moment, almost amused by his petulant manner. It takes a moment to even understand what he’s getting at, but then you finally grasp what he means.

“Ohhhh,” you say sounding like an astonished stoner. “You mean, you didn’t want me to think you were just interested in sex?”

He is clearly a little embarrassed now, his cheeks flushing and his eyes looking off to the side again in avoidance. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here in this tent, having this conversation with you.

Reluctantly, he mutters out, “Yeah…”

You feel a pang in your heart, trying to hold back the reaction you want to give which undoubtedly would involve tearing up as you let out an ‘Awwww.’ It’s so fucking adorable how impossibly awkward he is, how he’s always trying even when it seems like he’s being shitty and inconsiderate.

Your body acts on its own accord, getting to your knees as you crawl towards him, hesitant if only for the lack of clothes between your bodies. In the past, you’d have been so forward with him, not even hesitating if he came on to you. Now you find yourself afraid to make the wrong move.

You place your hands on each of his knees, looking at him as the memories flood back. The whole point in Homelander taking you in had been to rehabilitate you in a away. ‘You need someone to save you from yourself’ as he had so aptly put it on that life changing night. It was no wonder he was now torn by the idea of fucking you.

“And you don’t want to be a part of the problem?” you ask, feeling like you’ve got a pretty good grasp on the issue at hand now.

Homelander tries poorly to maintain a look of stoicism, glancing almost neurotically at your hands traveling up his thighs. He reaches down to grab your wrists, keeping them from moving any further as though trying to isolate himself from your touch.

“Yeah, something like that,” he replies, trying to brush it off.

You offer him a smile as the warmth of his thoughtfulness fills you with content satisfaction. Never before has anyone been this considerate of your well being and even though you had your doubts about essentially being held hostage by Homelander’s good intentions, you are are now incredibly grateful that he cared enough to try.

Slipping your wrist out from his loose grip, you rear up on your knees, placing a hand tenderly on his cheek. “Thank you,” is all you can even think of to say, because it’s all that keeps running through your head. How appreciative you are for this experience, a connection you didn’t think was possible with another person.

Homelander leans into your touch as though starved for affection, his cheeks hot under your gentle touch. A reverent look settles in his eyes as he processes what you’ve said, and he pulls you onto his lap with an urgent need. His arms wrap around your waist, holding your tightly against him, acting as though he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

You’re startled at first by the closeness and strength of his embrace, but you relax quickly. Cradling his head against your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, soothing him because it just feels like he really needs that right now.

“Look, we don’t have to rush,” you find yourself reassuring him in a calming voice. You can sense his desperation, the need to be held, nurtured, and cared for. They’re not unlike your own cravings. “To be honest… This with you… Feels much better than all of the empty sex I’ve had combined.” You utter a nervous laugh, hoping he gets what you mean and won’t judge you. “Let’s just.. Let it happen naturally. Hm?”

He nods his head slightly, his face nuzzling to the side so he can respond. “Yeah… Just,” he begins to speak in a quiet voice. “Just promise me something.”

You lean back slightly so you can look down at him, “What is it?”

One of his hands roams to your hip, his grip flexing as he pulls you closer. “Don’t go running back to your old life. Don’t leave me.”

You can’t help but melt, grasping his dear face in your hands at the heartbreaking sound of his familiar loneliness. It was an aching sadness you knew all too well. “Oh my sweet boy,” you say without hesitation. “I would never leave you…” Never is a strong word, but you’re pretty sure you actually mean it. After all, nobody has ever taken such good care of you in your entire life. Not your parents, not friends, certainly not boyfriends. There was a pull between you and this man that you felt certain couldn’t be severed.

“Besides,” you add with a sardonically pointed laugh. “You already said the first night you took me in, that you’d hunt me down if I tried to run away.”

Finally, he cheers up when he hears your acceptance of his overzealous behavior. The corners of his mouth ticking up in a smirk as he shifts backwards, making some space between you both. “Damn right I will,” he barks out with a scoff, the scared little boy retreating once more as his prideful counterpart steps forth.

You can’t help but crack up at how quickly he falls back into line with his typical arrogant behavior, but at least now you see it for what it truly is.

“Do you wanna try and get some sleep?” you ask as a small yawn escapes you. Suddenly the thought of finally getting to feel those arms holding you tightly all night, the safety and security of it, sounds really appealing. “We could get some cuddle time in.”

Homelander chuckles when you mention cuddling, his eyebrows rise as he relishes the idea. “I’m down for that, he says with a sly grin on his face. “As long as I get to be the big spoon.”

“Aww, c’mon!” you feign complaint as you drop down from his lap and lay down with your back towards him. “I wanted to be the big spoon!”

“Too bad, princess,” Homelander hums as he crawls up behind you. He drapes himself against you, pulling you closer until your back is pressed flush to his broad chest. You fit nicely against him, like two lost puzzle pieces that have finally come together to complete a full picture.

You make a pouty little sound as you wiggle your back into him, nestling your head into your pillow as you get comfortable. As you settle, he responds with a huff of contentment, his hand snaking around your waist and trapping you in place securely. You feel protected, shielded, from everything bad in his arms. Drifting off, you can’t help but muse, that even though he might not realize it, Homelander really is a hero. Your hero.

Holy shit, guys.. This was officially the fluffiest fluff from the land of fluffington. What the fuck did I just write? I think my Daemon fic has been so raunchy as of late, that I had to make up for it with all of this sweet as apple pie Homelander fluff. Oh well, you guys love it! :)

[seeingivy]

sweet nothing

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: talks of grief, references to hidden inventory arc, satoru just being in love, megs + tsumiki babies

an: giving love to one of the best songs on midnights. also idk where I procured this emo at like 1 in the afternoon but here we are

--

You give him the book after the two of you settle Megumi and Tsumiki into bed, in the few minutes of peace you and Satoru get before you both nestle into your shared bed. You hike your knees to your chest as he picks it up, a confused look meeting yours when he reads the title. 

“On Grief and Giving?” 

“I took Miki and Megs to the bookstore today and I thought you might like it.” 

“A book about grief? I’m not grieving.” 

You look over at him - sparkling blue eyes rimmed with red, the usual sparkiness in his voice gone for the past few days, and no smothering, smushy cheek kisses every morning. You scoot over and he opens his arm up, tucking you into his side. 

You whisper the words against his neck, your hands placed on his body, tracing out the lines of his biceps. 

“He doesn’t have to be dead for you to be grieving him, Satoru. The person we knew is dead and the reaction is all the same.” you whisper. 

Satoru frowns, his hand going back and forth on your lower back. You know he hates it, when you try to talk about it. When anyone does. 

“Just read a few pages. See if it’s your thing or not, okay?” 

He looks into your eyes for a few seconds before nodding, pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. And when you leave to drop Tsumiki and Megumi off at school the next day, he reads the first page and promptly stops. 

Grief stays the same size. Life begins to grow around it. 

He thinks it’s stupid. 

--

from y/n 

you: don’t forget to bring strawberries home for froggy cake please!! 

satoru: okay love. anything else? 

you: that big fat ass 

satoru: got it :D 

you: you ruined it. 

Tomorrow marks two years since Tsumiki and Megumi have been staying with you. And of course, in your ultimate corniness, you’ve convinced all three of them to make a cake with you. And because you can never say no to Tsumiki and Megumi’s suggestions, you’re making a strawberry froggy cake. Because Tsumiki wants to try to make a little frog with frosting and Megumi just wants to eat the strawberries off the cake. 

He makes a mental note to drop by the store on the way home from his meeting with the higher ups and then his parents. Maybe buy some balloons or flowers or something to accompany the strawberries you asked for. He knows you said it was supposed to be a lowkey thing, just the four of you eating the cake together, but your annoyance doesn’t beat your surprised face, so he must. 

Satoru stops by the coffee shop first, making it a clear point to be late to his meeting with the higher ups for a very stupid reason, and gets a sugary caramel latte. He can hear your voice in his mind - berating him for picking something so sweet - but persists anyway. 

And as he leans against the counter, waiting for the cup with Satoru scribbled on the side, he takes in the shop, watching the people going around. He had never been too big on people watching, but it’s Tsumiki's favorite pass time at the park, pointing out people's silly outfits or how close and far they’re sitting away from each other. 

He spots two little girls, making little beaded bracelets in the far corner while their moms both nurse a warm cup of coffee in their hands. They have their hands wrapped around the porcelain, like they’re sequestering the heat from the glass. 

On the left, a young couple, nervously twiddling their fingers and cracking their knuckles as they make conversation - cheeks glazed pink and wobbly voices marking their conversation. They’re both dressed nicer than usual, clearly trying to impress each other. 

And in the far corner, leaning against the chair, is Suguru Getou. 

He nearly sprints to the other side of the shop when he sees him. Short hair, a man bun tucked neatly at the back with weirdly misshapen bangs and brown eyes. He can feel his heart racing, pounding even and the perspiration growing on his clenched fists as he moves closer. 

And when he reaches their table, standing way too close and looking straight into his eyes, he realizes that this is not Suguru Getou. Instead, a kid that bears far too much resemblance to him. But his eyes are rounder, his nose isn’t as pointy, and he is not a murderer. 

Satoru takes off and runs straight out the store, forgetting about his cup of coffee that’s getting cold in the pickup area.

--   

Yaga and the higher-ups' voices drone out in the back, as Satoru wracks his head. 

Why did he think that kid was Suguru? Suguru is dead. 

And it only now occurs to him, that for all intents and purposes, he really does think he’s dead. But he knows he isn't because Satoru let him walk free. Because he had to clench his fists and swallow hard to walk away the last time he saw him. 

But the man he knows is dead. Your voice is echoing in his head. 

“Satoru, are you paying attention?” 

“I mean, not really.” 

They all pinch their noses and groan, starting the lecture he’s sure they were giving him all over again. And it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before. 

We want you to take more missions, there aren’t that many special grade sorcerers available. We want you to spend more time teaching, you're not doing enough. A long list of we want, we want, we want. 

And when the higher-ups trail out of the meeting, disdainful looks on their faces, he turns back to Yaga, who frowns at him. The question is on his tongue. He can’t bring himself to ask it. 

Do you ever think you ask too much of me?

He understands. He tries to. That he is the strongest sorcerer, that there’s no one like him. That he may have infinity, but he knows they forget the inner parts of him aren’t untouchable. That he’s still a person, that he’s still soft. 

Tsumiki’s shiny report cards make him beam with joy, fighting with Megumi keeps him up at night, and getting to hold you at night is the only thing that keeps him grounded sometimes. 

That sometimes the smell of blood never leaves his nose no matter how hard he scrubs in the shower, that when he sees a boy who looks like Suguru, the wound he thought he patched over feels like it’s freshly bleeding. 

But that doesn’t matter, because…

“You should be taking more missions. People are getting spread really thin.” Yaga says, clearing the dust off his desk. 

…Because he’s the strongest. 

--

As he drags his feet to the Gojo estate, he can’t help but survey the crowd as he walks there. Three girls with the same hair color as Getou, two boys with the same eye color, five people the exact same height, but none of them are Suguru Getou. 

When he reaches his parents house, pulling out the long black chairs he uncomfortably sat in for hours as a kid, his mind wanders even farther when they start talking. 

This time, he’s imagining. Daydreaming. What it would be like if he wasn’t the one gifted with the limitless and infinity. If jujutsu sorcery didn’t exist. 

That he’d have more time, be more free to do what he wanted. Make chocolate pancakes with you every morning, before the two of you walk together to drop off Megumi and Tsumiki to school. You’d work normal jobs - maybe he’d still be a teacher, a normal one - while you would do something that was entirely too impressive. Like saving lives or writing books or working at a non-profit. 

You would both go to Tsumiki’s first school dance together and take so many pictures that she’d walk away all embarrassed, red in the face. He’d go to every single one of Megumi’s baseball games, you’d both be the parents that are way too decked out, way too enthusiastic about their kid. 

Satoru would help you collect vinyls and when Tsumiki and Megumi were long gone and the two of you would put them on and dance in the kitchen humming. You’ll get wrinkles at the same time and your hair would gray so the two of you would look like pale-haired ghosts together. 

He zones back into what his parents were saying, their bored eyes glazed on him. And he doesn’t pay attention, because it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before. 

They want him to be around more, because he should know how to take over the estate. They want him to meet with other clans, so he can help them with other deals. A long list of they want, they want, they want. 

And he walks out, he wonders if his parents want the life he imagined for himself, the way he wants it for Megumi and Tsumiki. If that was the life Suguru would have lived, if things were different. 

--

When he makes it home, the sun is sinking into the sky against the house, the sky an array of golden hues. And when he pushes his key into the lock, he’s met with one smiling face and two grumpy faces. 

You march over, flicking Satoru’s cheek as he moves closer to you, grabbing onto your hands. 

“Those strawberries better be hidden in your pants or something.” 

He feels his face pale as he remembers that in the loop of things he’s been thinking about all day, he forgot to get the strawberries for froggy cake. And the balloons and flowers and everything else he wanted to give the three of you. 

“Satoru. We really wanted strawberry froggy cake.” you whine, reaching up to rest your hands on his face, squishing hard. 

He reaches for your wrists, pulling them down from his face and looking down at your joined hands. 

“Oh well, I’ll just go grab them with Megumi or something.” 

He watches you pad back into the kitchen, not even phased by his shortcoming, as you place a hand in Tsumiki’s hair. She’s very focused on frosting her little frog in the center of the cake, her eyebrows knit in concentration. He makes his way in, leaning over the counter as he intently watches the three of you. 

“What if we all go to the store and pick up strawberries?” you say, a hand resting in Megumi’s hair. 

Megumi directs off of you and to Satoru, glaring at him. 

“Did you seriously forget the one thing we wanted you to get?” 

“Megs, don’t be mean. It’s always fun to go to the store together!” you respond. 

“I’ll let you pick out anything you want, kid.” Satoru mentions. 

Megumi gives him a satisfied smile, hopping off his seat to go yank his shoes on. Tsumiki follows suit and you give Satoru a glowing smile as you drag the three of them out, hands intertwined as you go to the store. 

--

And at the end of the day, in the few minutes of peace the two of you get before the next day, Satoru’s staring at you, memorizing the curve of your nose and the shape of your eyes, and the way your hair falls against your face. 

You bring a hand up, cupping the side of his face as you whisper in the dark. 

“You okay, Toru?” 

“What do you want from me?” 

He watches you frown and pull back, your hand shaking against his face. 

“Are you mad at me, Satoru?” 

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, bringing you back closer. He’s resting his forehead against yours, savoring the warmth that gathers in the back of your neck on his hands. 

“No. No, no. I just…I want to know what you want from me.” 

He watches you scrunch your forehead, as you ponder the question. 

“I mean. I’d really like it if you didn’t leave the toilet seat up all the time.” 

He cracks a smile, rolling his eyes at you, as he reaches for your hand to bring your knuckles up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss, noticing the sweet smile that spreads across your face when he does, and drops your hand. 

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N.” 

“I mean. I’m not sure what you mean. It’s just small things, Toru. Like we should go on walks together sometimes in the evening, I think that would be nice. And we should watch all the Harry Potter movies together, like do a marathon and not sleep in between. And I’d really like a big diamond ring, circular cut, six pronged with a golden band.” 

Your hands, still resting against his face, are now meshed in with a spray of salty tears and a whimpering Satoru. You instinctively bring him forward, tucking his neck into your face as he cries into your shoulders. 

His tears are coating your neck as you run your hand through the white tresses of hair, whispering against his forehead. Imploring for what’s wrong. He doesn’t respond and the tears subside after a few minutes, his frame still shaking in your hold. 

“I’m not that attached to a golden wedding band, Satoru. I can do silver.” 

He laughs, pulling his face away from your neck to run his hands through your hair. 

“Gold is okay. I like gold.” 

“What’s wrong, Satoru? Tell me.” 

“Nothing. I just- that’s really all you want from me?” 

“I mean, yeah. What else would I want?” 

Satoru leans forward, pressing his lips against yours as he nearly cries into your face again, hanging off the ends of your lips. And you’re not sure what it means, what any of it means, but you let him - cry into your arms, hold you through the night, and make you breakfast the next morning. 

In truth, Satoru cherishes the fact that everyone may ask the world of him, but all you’ve ever wanted from him are sweet, sweet nothings. 

When you wake up the next morning, padding into the kitchen to make breakfast, you’re met with a box of strawberries, a sticky-note pressed on top. I love you, written in Satoru’s scribbly handwriting. 

Life has grown around Satoru’s grief. And it looks like you.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog  @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[theragethatisdesire]

HELLO FROGGY >:P you knew id be here im youre lovely little bunny…i wanna submit my own prompt for your huge milestone event!!

“youre fucking eren jaeger? are you kidding me?”

do with that as you wish rage!! ILY

hiiiiiii my flower ummm firstly this prompt made giggle secondly i found it a bit challenging so i decided to go digging through my wips and ..... i discovered the morning-after drabble for ti penso eren!!! which ik you just said eren and it doesn't say your prompt exactly but also like. the energy is there. and it's really funny. SO YOU GET A VERY SPECIAL ARCHIVAL RAGE PIECE THAT'S ALSO QUITE LONG COMPARED TO WHAT I THINK THE REST OF THE DRABBLES WILL BE........ i hope it will suffice <3<3<3 i love you???

"you're fucking eren?" x ti penso! eren<3 this is a little continuation of this

-

“How are we doing today, folks?” A perky waitress approaches your table, smiling down at all of you. You pity her, really; no one at your table is exactly in the mood to return her level of enthusiasm.

Logically, you know how you’ve ended up sandwiched between Eren and Armin, trying to ignore the daggers Mikasa’s shooting at you across the table, but in the haze of your hangover and the intoxicating presence of Eren beside you, you can’t imagine what you did to deserve this fate. A memory flashes behind your eyes of Eren pinning you to the wall, licking up your neck. Oh yeah, that.

You and Eren had eventually managed to untangle yourselves from the bed when Connie and Armin had joined the raucous banging on the door, and you’d each miraculously found an old tshirt and a pair of Jean’s sweatpants to wear. Your face had burned when you met Mikasa’s withering glare, Jean’s look of horror when he caught sight of his sheets rumpled on the floor. Armin had corralled everyone into brunch of all things, deciding on behalf of the group that the rarity of seeing each other outweighed the painful awkwardness of the situation. Connie had whined and stomped his feet, demanding Ubereats on account of his hangover, but after some convincing, you’d all been dragged along to the restaurant a block from Jean’s apartment. Your foot, still wearing your heels from the night before that do not compliment the pair of Jean’s pajamas you’re wearing, jiggles incessantly under the table.

“Um, hi. We’re good, thanks,” Armin breaks the silence to answer the poor girl, looking down at his menu with pink cheeks.

“We need mimosas,” Connie says affirmatively, even though alcohol is likely the last thing that will aid this situation, “two carafes, and keep ‘em coming.”

“Connie,” Mikasa says sharply, “do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Hair of the dog,” Eren suggests, nodding at the waitress. “Make it three.”

“Shut up,” Mikasa snaps at him. Eren balks, you don’t dare to look at him even as you snicker. “I told you two–”

“I am an adult, Mika,” for the first time all morning, you snap and finally interrupt her scolding. “Do we really need to do this over brunch?”

“Did you really need to do that in my bed?” Jean makes a disgusted face. Eren rolls his eyes, stretching his arms only to land one around your shoulders; god, you wish he wouldn’t do that, add fuel to the fire.

“Sheets can be washed.”

“I’m burning them,” Jean deadpans, eyes narrowing at Eren’s arm around you. You want to die. You want to shrink into a little hole in the ground and die.

“I got laid too, if anyone cares,” Connie mutters. Armin cocks an eyebrow.

“Before or after you puked in the kitchen sink?”

“Before,” Connie answers, unphased, “in that hall bathroom–”

“Can my apartment please stop being the sex apartment?” Jean groans, letting his head fall into his hands.

“Oh, like you two weren’t fucking each other silly back at our place,” you counter, pointing an accusing finger between Jean and Mikasa. Jean’s face turns bright red, and Eren’s eyes fix on Jean, narrowing into something lethal. Mikasa opens her mouth to snap back, but the waitress has returned, three mimosa carafes and six glasses on her tray. On second thought, maybe you do need a morning pick-me-up. 

All of you, despite your protests, fill your glasses to the brim. Eren pours yours for you, smiling down at you adoringly as if you were on a lovely date, not a one-night-stand-turned-hellish-morning.

“Want more?” He asks, holding the carafe towards your near-full glass. You shake your head, mouth pressed into a flat line, not missing Jean’s gagging across the table.

“Whipped already, Jaeger?” Connie teases.

“After last night? Absolutely,” Eren says with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, wrapping his arm tighter and snuggling you into his side. Your face burns even hotter, and you smack his chest.

“Shut up, Eren!” You and Mikasa speak at the same time. Mikasa grants you a small smile at your synchronicity; it isn’t much, but it’s a start, and you venture into what’s hopefully a safe realm of conversation that will keep Eren preoccupied.

“So Mika, are you excited for Eren to move to the city?”

Your attempt at peace doesn’t go the way you’d hoped; Mikasa’s brows knit into a frown, and she turns to Eren, who’s blushing madly. “What?”

“When are you moving to the city?” Armin asks, nose scrunched in confusion. You’re just as confused as they are, turning to face Eren.

“But you said this morning–”

“I am in a few weeks,” Eren says, sounding very much like he’s just spitballing, “I just need to talk to Zeke–”

“What about my music?” Connie looks aghast, hands flying out to the side.

“Dude, I can still rep you from the city, and Zeke might not even want to move. He’s all wrapped up with Pieck anyway.”

“When were you planning on telling me you were moving?” Mikasa narrows her eyes, glaring at Eren accusingly. You realize you’ve put your foot in your mouth, exposed what may have been no more than a passing thought in Eren’s head. You haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours, but you can read Eren well enough to tell that he’s impulsive, maybe to a fault.

“Did you need to get laid so bad that you got one whiff of pussy and decided to pack up and move?” Jean looks amused, and you want to slap him. Thankfully, Mikasas does it for you, thumping him between the eyebrows. “Ow!”

“Don’t be crude.”

“Maybe.” Eren, for his part, simply smirks, tightens his grip on you. Your heart flutters despite your embarrassment; even if he had lied to get you back into bed for an attempted round two, it was a flattering thought. “It would be good for the business, though.”

“Come to think of it,” Armin rubs his chin, “it really would. There’s a lot more musicians that need representation in the city than back home.”

“You rep musicians?” You raise your eyebrows, surprised. You had assumed the family business was something boring, and you realize you never thought to ask. Eren shrugs.

“Sort of. We’re still getting it off the ground.”

“He reps me!” Connie waves excitedly at you.

“Impressive,” you give him a little once-over, seeing him in an entirely different light. In the sober eyes of the morning, he’s still beautiful, hair rumpled and messy and eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, but beautiful. You force your gaze away from him only to be met with Mikasa’s eyes, flitting between both of you, a curious look on her face. “What?”

“Nothing,” she hums, sipping her mimosa but not dropping the knowing smile spreading across her face.

[theyanderespecialist]

The Deal (Scenario) Yanderes Asmodeus/Fizzarolli X GN Blitzo Reader (Helluva Boss)

[Hello, I am finally getting around to this one! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter! It is after Fizz quits and How Ozzie and Fizz's relationship changes. Maybe a little of that episode! So good luck! I hope that you all enjoy this. 

Disclaimer: You take the place of a Gender Neutral Listener 

Disclaimer 2: Fizz and Ozzie are a canon couple, they are not yandere in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously. Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine. Just do not be illegal or gross about it. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon.

(Yanderes Asmodeus/Fizzarolli) 

(No One's POV) 

Fizz had a crush on (Name) when they were kids. They were just such sweet Imps. Then the accident happened and a huge misunderstanding came from it. For over a decade he has hated one of the loves of his life. He mourned that he could have been with (Name). When Fizz learned the truth, that (Name) had wanted to see. That they do care. It made his heart ache. Also, it reminded him that they were dating Stolas kind of. That left him bitter and angry. 

He gets ready for his date with Ozzie and then hears Ozzie come in. 

"Why are you upset Froggy?" Ozzie asks him. 

"well you know how I used to have feelings for (Name)...?" Fizz asks. "After they saved me... These feelings reared their head again... I love you so much Oz... It is just hard." 

Ozzie pulls Fizz close. "It is okay Fizzy," Ozzie says. "I can tell why you love them, they are quite something." 

Fizz stops and looks at him. "Oz? Are you attracted to them?" Fizz asks curiously. 

"Yes, they are physically attractive, but it is more so that they saved you~ That they would never have hurt you like that, seeing them shoot your stalker~ That was kind of hot~," Ozzie says and kisses down Fizz's neck. "If you want, we could have them~ Keep them as our lovers ~" 

"We could?" Fizz asks, this was the best situation that they could get in. 

"We could, I still have to give them one of my crystals," Ozzie says. "Maybe we can even make a deal with them~ Make them ours, and ours alone~" 

Fizz grins, that would be the best of both worlds. He would have (Name) and Ozzie, both of them being the loves of his life and he would never EVER let go of (Name) again. They belong to them~ 

-Small Time Skip;  Brought to you by: Ozzie being an Evil Little Fuck-

(Name) was eating cheese and having a good time. When their phone rings, they answer it. "Hello?" They ask around a mouthful of cheese. "What do you need?" 

"(Name)!" An excited Fizz says. "Since we are friends again, I thought I could have you over for dinner. You know, just me, you, and Ozzie." 

"Okay?" (Name) draws out. "I mean I will not say no to a free meal, just is it you cooking or the lusty king? Last time I checked you burn water when cooking." 

Fizz blushes. "Yes, Ozzie will be cooking," He confirms. 

"Okay then, I won't say no to a good meal, and my daughter is out with Tex and the Queen Bee. She won't be back until Monday." (Name) says and starts to put on their shoes. "So I guess I am all yours!" 

Fizz smirks happily, Yes, (Name). You are all Mine~ "That is great, we will pick you up in a few." 

"Okie doki!" (Name) says and eats the last bit of cheese. 

They wonder what prompted this. They shrug, whatever a free meal is a free meal. Soon Ozzie and Fizz are there and (Name) gets in with them. They drove down to Lust, (Name) talked to Fizz, they could tell that he was nervous. Was it because he was on edge because of the dinner? It was his idea, not (Name's). 

They got up to the penthouse and there was a candlelit dinner. Wait what was going on? 

"Were you guys planning a romantic date before inviting me?" (Name) asks. 

"Kind of. The romantic date is for you, (Name)." Fizz says and (Name's) face goes a bright red. Oh boy! 

"Hehe, oh that is a lot!" They laugh. "What does that mean, you two want a threesome." 

Ozzie pulls out a chair for (Name) and they sit down. 

"thank you." 

"Anything for you," Ozzie says. 

Fizz pulls out a box that looks oddly enough like an engagement box. 

"We both want you, (Name)," Fizz says. "We do, really bad, but we know at this time you are bonded to Stolas, Ozzie can break that bind and then you will be free. To be with us." 

(Name) takes the box and opens it, there is a crystal to have access to the human world. "Oh... Frick." They could not even swear, this is a lot. 

They also have feelings for Stolas. 

"Stolas cannot love you like we can," Ozzie says. "He is using you for his gain, he made a contract with you, so you will have to fuck him." 

(Name) bites their lip. 

"But we," Fizz adds. "We love you so much, I always have loved you, from since we were kids. You are just the perfect most wonderful darling." 

"Fizz is right, why be with Stolas, who is not good enough for you, who does not appreciate you and does not stand by your side?" Ozzie asks, both were manipulating (Name's) emotional state. 

"I-" 

"Let us love you." fizz says and kisses them. "Let us show you how much you mean to us~" 

(Name) felt their eyes tear up and they slowly kissed back Fizz. Fuck it was always what they wanted. 

Fizz pulls away, this is it (Name) is almost their Darling. 

"So what do you say, baby?" Ozzie asks. 

"Alright." (Name) agrees it felt nice for someone to say they wanted them, and not ask for anything in return. (Name) felt loved and it made them feel good. 

(Name) made the deal and they did not know that they just swore themselves to the Sin of Lust and His Imp lover, forever! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another Chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 28

WARNINGS: mentions of violence

You desperately search for a convincing excuse to give her as Professor Umbridge stomps toward you and the twins, but in all your panic you can't come up with anything. You know you've been caught.

Just before Umbridge reaches you, Fred and George simultaneously step in front of you... as if to protect you. Do they fear Umbridge will try to do you physical harm? You think it's silly at first, but then you remember all of the rumors going around the school about what she did to Harry after he challenged her...

"Don't punish y/n," the twins quickly say. "It was our idea."

"I don't care who's idea it was!" Umbridge barks. Her entire head is as red as a tomato. "Especially when she promised me that you three troublemakers were going to class!"

It's true. You had lied straight to her froggy face, but you weren't sorry for it.

You stand on the tips of your toes so that you can make eye contact with Professor Umbridge. "I didn't promise anything," you say matter-of- factly.

"Don't talk back to me!" Umbridge roars, and you can tell Fred and George are struggling to hold in a laugh. Umbridge points a chubby finger in your direction and spits, "Detention!"

As Umbridge smooths her skirt, you and the twins wait for her to elaborate, but she does not.

"O-only for me?" you eventually ask with a tone of uncertainty.

Professor Umbridge displays her knowing, evil little smile. "Yes. My office, tonight at five o'clock sharp."

"Why not punish us, too?" Fred says, upset.

"Because the... disciplining will be more effective if you aren't together. Twenty points from Gryffindor and thirty points from Slytherin." And with that, Umbridge turns around and walks back in the direction of the Quidditch field entrance.

"Oh, boy, if it was legal..." George makes an aggressive, strangling motion with his hands.

You sigh. "I probably won't even have time for dinner."

"I'm sure she's aware of that," Fred growls. He begins to pace back and forth, obviously thinking hard. Then Fred stops and, as if they both suddenly conjured the exact same thought, the twins look at each other. You watch wearily as they silently communicate, leaving you out of the conversation. Fred squints slowly. George hesitates for a moment and then shakes his head. Fred's brow furrows in intense concern. George shakes his head again, this time with more surety. Fred raises an eyebrow questioningly...

You sigh once more and brush past the twins. You start to head back to the castle.

"Wait, y/n," Fred says softly, gently grabbing your hand. "There's still a long while until your detention."

"Yeah, but that long while is another class I should be getting to." You give his hand an affectionate squeeze, and then you walk away sadly towards the castle.

[agendabymooner]

she's beauty, she's grace ! sergio 'checo' p. x ofc (miss philippines!ofc)

summary: the red bull driver sergio perez has married a long-time fan - who also happened to be the miss universe 2018 winner AND the mother to his two kids, carmella 'mella' ayala.

content warning: possible use of explicit language, established relationship, miss universe!ofc, fluff, dad!checo and mom!ofc, mentions checo and his proud bf moment, video clips + tweets and posts, what is proper grammar, mentions of characters from jenson button x ofc work and seb vettel x ofc piece (no storyline involved)

note: i used this face claim because i was one of those people that were screaming "PHILIPPINES" at the tv hoping that catriona gray would win. don't ask me why i made a checo one. there's something about that man that had my internals screaming for a moment so i've been at this thing for HOURS. i should probably update my masterlist soon before i start packing my shit and going 😭🤠 enjoy xx

masterlist

MISS U(niverse), CHECO ❤️ | MELLA TALKS ABOUT BEING CELEBRATED IN MEXICO BY HER BOYFRIEND'S FAMILY | CARMELLA AYALA HOMECOMING 2019 w/ VICE GANDA by abscbn

HOST: VICE (GANDA) GUEST: CARMELLA AYALA

[translation: mi rana pequeño = my little frog]

tagged schecoperez

liked by carlossainzjr, danielricciardo, christianhorner

user1 my little frog 😭

user2 WHICH ONE IS A HARRIE?!

carmayalaprz bitzy but he's at the hotel rn 😅 he's taking a break from chiquito

user2 even froggys need a break too 😩🙌

schecoperez what do you mean mr. bitzy's at the hotel 🧐

carmayalaprz what do you mean by that love? 😄😊

schecoperez 😊

maxverstappen1 uh oh. i wouldn't play this game with carma if i were you checo 🤔

redbullracing i agree with max on this one

christianhorner i don't really mind being introduced to bopit and bitzy every time 😕 liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz i hope gp's the same because there's gonna be a lot of that soon 😅

danielricciardo how much plushies does he have for the trip rn?

carmayalaprz without cece's? about seven. apparently the whole pack either come or be left at home but we all know the chances of one being left alone in the cold dark place

danielricciardo i can barely imagine ribb being left alone at home- can you just imagine that poor frog crying for his friend?

carmayalaprz i can never 😔

tagged schecoperez, artsforyouth, artsforkids

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, adaabbott

adaabbott ah yes! the efficient cardboard crafting camp! my favourite activities yet! liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz i had my biggest proud wife and mom moment just watching serg and silas make those houses 🥰

adaabbott haha! i can imagine! poppet and jens definitely tried their best working together!

user1 silas and sergio perez are the most iconic duo since sebastian and michael 😍

user2 i love how hands-on you and checo are when it comes to your little ones!

carmayalaprz thank you so much! us parents are trying despite the busy schedules, you know? 💖

danielricciardo i hope you guys brought earplugs. god knows how much of a screamer silas is 😭

schecoperez daniel for the last time he didn't intentionally try to break your eardrums 🤠

carmayalaprz try babysitting them, you'll get used to it eventually

danielricciardo maybe next time, yes?

user3 danny would probably add more to the noise if anything ngl 😭

schecoperez am i ever glad to take your and silas' attentions away from the stupid frogs 😄 liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz don't say that about those frogs 🤠 i was shedding blood and tears swiping my card after passing by that store

schecoperez maybe next time let's not go to a mall with a build a bear store 🤔

carmayalaprz i agree. we might have pavlov'd our son with the build-a-bear stores we come across to

maxverstappen1 so i should return the froggy i bought him then...?

redbullracing you know the right answer to that max.

the perez kids

silas milo ayala perez

cecilia morgana ayala perez

[falloutjuli]

Back on my shitposting Bullshit. This posts theme is something I had already done on my older writing blog and I always love making headcanons so here it is for JJBA. (Jodio not included yet)

 Feel free to drop in my ask box if you miss any character and wanna hear what I think or for literally anything else. (Please remeber to not send in too many charcters, Ill set the limit for now at 6)

Anyways, I hope yall get a kick out of my funky ideas. 

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

1-8 JoJo’s x Reader - Playing Animal Crossing Together

Wordcount:

Short summary: My personal headcanons on the JoJo’s playing Animal Crossing with references to you and their friends.

Warnings: None. Only wholesomeness here., except for Joseph srynotsry

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

Jonathan:

Loves it, huge fan of the tiny wholesome animal game.

Speedwagon showed it to him, knowing Jonathan would love it.

Jonathan puts a big effort into keeping his island pretty, villagers happy, filling the museum, sending gifts and letters to his friends and you.

Most wholesome player you'll ever encounter, that happily trades anything he has.

Loves to buy furniture and clothing for you to surprise you with it.

 🌟

Joseph:

Wasn’t that big into it until he discovered the custom pattern function.

Now he's a menace, using loads of cursed patterns to paint his island in and give his villagers ugly shirts.

His own character wears a "Pussy Master" shirt.

Will visit Caesar’s and your island just to mess with you and gift your villagers ugly clothing and furniture.

Avid time skipper.

Biggest troll you two know and yet you love him.

  🌟

Jotaro:

Not interested, didn't know what it was until he saw you having fun with it.

He asked Kakyoin what the game is, and he happily showed Jotaro.

Jotaro eventually surprises you with a friend request on your switch.

He doesn't do much around his island, just places some stuff here and there.

Is absolutely obsessed over aquatic Villagers and filling the fish part of the museum to take pictures there with you.

  🌟

Josuke:

Organized Town, pretty layout, casual player that takes his time to slowly work towards everything.

Will make his house gaming themed.

One part of the island is dedicated to recreating the cafe and fill it with references to you and his other friends.

Eager to get his friendship up with all his villagers, loves to give them gift and talks to them daily.

Loves the Nookmile tickets/ Kapp'n trips and goes on them whenever he can.

  🌟

Giorno:

Froggy Chair obsessed.

Owns the Sanrio Amiibo cards and decorates with it.

Also has all the villager amiibo cards and everyone is welcome to borrow them to get their favorites on their respective islands.

Loves the museum and eagerly works on filling it, gifting anything he already has to you.

Cute natural island theme with loads of plants and occasional duplicated statues spread around.

Made a cute park for you that has lots of hybrid flowers and cutesy furniture.

Loves all villagers, but his favorites are the frogs.

  🌟

Jolyne:

Surprisingly organized in a sense?

Like you, Ermes, FF and her share a group chat where everyone posts their newest decoration updates, what villagers moved in and might move out, turnip prices.

You trade furniture for the catalog and help each other's museum, teamwork makes the dream work.

Loads of pictures of you four hanging out in the coffeeshop.

One room in her house is dedicated to you and filled with references to your relationship.

Anasui is banned from all islands, and you designed a custom pattern with his face and a red X on it that all of you have next to your airport.

  🌟

Johnny:

Johnny wasn't big into it at first and then got completely hooked.

Only Horse and Mouse villagers.

Western themed all the way. Kentucky state flag as his island flag.

Loves Gyroids and has multiple in each room.

Gyro and he trade furniture and ignore the museum completely. They are only interested in decorating their homes and island to have it perfect.

Made it big with turnips but refuses to explain to Gyro how it works.

  🌟

Gappy:

Was confused at first why you liked the game so much.

Yasuho and you made him his sailor outfit and buy him some furniture to start him up with.

You two explain the whole concept roughly to him and then let him play.

You never expected him to figure it out super quickly and making loads of money with turnips.

His house was upgraded faster than yours and Yasuho’s, he began making his own custom paths, made an orchard on his island.

He quickly takes a huge liking to the game and loves everything about it.

He leaves the island largely as it is, the only stuff he really decorates are his house, the orchard (reminiscent of the Higashikata one) and the little area with his villagers.

The rooms in his house are all dedicated to a person that he then decorates accordingly to. (You, Yasuho, Holly, the Higashikata Family etc)

[littlemisspascal]

Rockford & Roan

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC 'Roan'

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You meet Tim Rockford in the true crime section of the library of all places.

Rating: T 

Warnings: Language, reference of self-harming + assault, meet cute, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford

Author Note: Elements of X-Men and Sherlock/Elementary mashed together because my brain said so. I've got more of these two (plus another Pedro Boy *cough* Thief *cough*) outlined if y'all are interested in seeing more of this world. It was a lot of fun attempting this new guy 😊

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Part 2

The Session

You cross your legs, trying to get comfortable, immediately grimacing when the plush leather couch squeaks as a result. Your psychologist’s office smells overwhelmingly of lavender from the burning candle on her desk. Dr. Odair insists the smell has a calming effect to combat anxiety, but you remain unconvinced. You’re unconvinced about a lot of the advice these mandatory sessions offer, actually.

“How’s your search going?” Dr. Odair asks, pen poised above a fresh sheet of paper. “Have you connected with anyone?”

According to the internet, Dr. Charlotte Odair is one of the leading experts on empaths, telepaths, and other similar mind-gifts in the world. She’s also renowned for helping discharged military personnel integrate back into civilian society which meant you didn’t have much of a choice seeing anybody else.

Most people’s emotions are a finicky and erratic mess, shifting and fluctuating depending on the countless number of influences stemming from one’s surroundings. Some feelings are easy to identify at once, others are too obscure or complex to be named. The latter are the ones which overwhelm you. The ones which bury beneath your skin, an itch you can’t scratch no matter how harshly your nails dig into your arms, deeper and deeper until they’re stained red. 

Dr. Odair’s emotions resemble crystalline waters, transparent and blatant. There’s no second-guessing with her, no hidden tricks. She’s been trained, masterfully so, to carefully bind her feelings to her will.

“Yeah, it’s been going great,” you answer, then nod down at your feet where a small, golden brown dog lies with his chin on his paws. “Connected with Banjo here over the weekend. We’re a total match for each other.”

She fixes you with a look over the thick rims of her glasses. “Is that so?”

Compared to humans, animals have a much smaller range of emotions. They broadcast exactly what they want like a neon sign, whether that be food, shelter, or a good petting. And if their desires are met, the hum of their contentment is a far more pleasant tune than most songs on the radio nowadays.

You’d actually been looking to get a cat when you went to the pet shelter, dismissing dogs as too needy and energetic for your liking, but fate had other plans. One look at the little mutt, with his tangled fur and deep, froggy bark, and you were signing the adoption paperwork within minutes. And still, even after that unexpected love at first sight moment, Banjo continues to surprise you with how easily he adapts to your routine, standing by your side like he always belonged there.

You tell Dr. Odair as much, but there’s no response even though you know she’s absorbing every word out of your mouth, turning them over in her head, analyzing each syllable. Her mood remains almost frustratingly steady, giving no indication as to what she’s thinking. That look remains though, blue eyes narrowing even further. 

“You never said my match had to be another human.” Your hands tighten around Banjo’s leash, hoping she doesn’t catch the defensive edge your voice has taken. 

Her pen starts to scribble a note across the paper, too similar to a doctor’s chicken scratch for you to read upside down. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing towards the flickering candle. Damn it. 

“Miss Roan,” Dr. Odair begins, and you taste blood on your tongue, “I know it’s annoying, being forced to attend these sessions every week, but the fact of the matter is, empaths aren’t meant to live alone. Especially not after what you’ve endured. Finding someone to match with is what your empathy needs to finally settle down.”

She makes it sound so easy, like the rest of the world doesn’t have any issues with mind-gifts and the lack of privacy that comes with them. Like there isn’t a set of laws specifically written for people who can read thoughts with a single touch or predict the future through dreams because their gifts aren’t as flashy, as visible, and thus in the eyes of the government that makes them the scariest threat of all.

On the battlefield things were different. The laws of polite society didn’t apply, not out there amongst the pools of blood and ceaseless gunfire. Your mind-gift was a tool to take advantage of, capable of numbing pain away faster than drugs and boosting the troop’s morale to a near fever-pitch. There was no time to stop and assess the damage you were self-inflicting unintentionally by overworking your empathy. Nobody who cared enough about you as a person to recognize the warning signs—not even your own self.

It was a miracle, as your commanding captain would later put it, when enemy forces staged a midnight raid on the camp and a man pinned you to the floor, radiating nothing but vulgar lust, that your lapse of control only resulted in putting every hostile within a mile radius to sleep instead of killing them instantly. 

A miracle for the unit maybe, but for you it marked the abrupt conclusion of your military career. Loss of control of one’s gifts stipulated their immediate release from serving, even if in your case it saved lives. Your discharge papers were officially signed and filed by the higher-ups before you regained consciousness three days later with a pounding headache from hell. Your mind-gift, once seen as a helpful aid to win battles, was now a time bomb dumped into the hands of Dr. Odair to deactivate. 

And what is her brilliant solution? Matching. Or, as it used to be called back in the olden days when gifts were thought to be divinely bestowed instead of being entirely unpredictable mutations in one’s genetic code, soulbonding. A powerful connection forged between two individuals, locking their gifts together and intertwining their lives until death splits them apart. 

Movies and fairytales will describe matching as the ultimate manifestation of true love, but love’s got nothing to do with it. Matching is a direct result of a human’s innate instinct to survive. It most commonly occurs when one or both members of the potential pairing possess dangerous gifts likely to cause harm to themselves. Supposedly, the bond is instantaneous once the two meet, causing their gifts to settle down, easier to control. Balancing each other out as if they were two halves of the same whole.

Sounds wonderful. In theory, at least. The biggest problem with matching is it can’t be done with just any random person. It can’t be forced either, not even between established couples. The bond happens solely on the choice of the gifts, not the will of the people involved. The hows and whys and other intricate details of the fateful decision-making process remain a mystery, one perhaps beyond mankind’s ability to ever solve, but regardless, it’s hard to argue against the overwhelmingly positive end results. To date, every recorded pair has admitted their match stabilized their gifts and saved their lives from an early death.

So until your mind-gift figures out who it wants, all you can do is walk the streets of Fox Leap, searching for just the right stranger in a sea of wrong strangers, empathy buzzing like a live wire pressed against your brain with each disappointing encounter.

“I am looking.” You’re being honest, despite what the dropping of your eyes to the floor might suggest. It’s too difficult to meet her gaze, afraid of the pity you might find shining through her carefully maintained facade. “I’m just not sure they want to be found.”

The Meeting

You meet Tim Rockford in the true crime section of the library of all places.

Fox Leap Central Library has essentially become your second home ever since you sought shelter from the rain one miserably gray afternoon two weeks after moving there. It’s one of the few places in the city that doesn’t make you feel like ants are crawling along your spinal cord, designed with dozens of cozy spaces to curl up with a good book and cup of coffee and zone out for a couple of blissful hours.

Your eyes are drifting over the colorful covers of fantasy books offering to transport you to alternate universes full of mythical beasts when you feel it. A flash of anger, stronger and more intense than anything you’ve ever felt, illuminating your mind-gift identical to a streak of lightning tearing through the darkness of night.

The emotion fades just as fast as it made itself known, but your empathy bays like a bloodhound picking up a scent trail, urging you to follow it to the source. Your fingers twitch at your side. Not with the desire to scratch, you realize with surprise, but to soothe. You haven’t felt this kind of compulsion since you’d been on the frontlines, taking away the pain from bullet-stricken soldiers, but that had been your purpose back then, a duty expected to fulfill. 

This…This is a purely selfish want.

You bite your lip, glance down at Banjo, tail wagging as if to say what are we waiting for?, and then surrender to the temptation.

Three aisles down stands the library’s only other occupant in sight: a tall, broad-shouldered man in a white shirt and tan trench coat with dark, unkempt hair like he’s been running his fingers through it lately. He’s rubbing at his stubbled jawline, brown eyes glaring beneath furrowed brows at a book on serial killers. 

He’s the perfect example of tall, dark and handsome but it’s not his looks that has your pulse quickening, a flutter of something dangerously akin to hope beginning to stir. If Dr. Odair’s emotions are a crystalline pool, then this man’s are an ocean in the midst of a storm. Turbulent on the surface, rough and irritable, concealing unexpectedly mesmerizing depths luring your mind-gift to dive deeper and deeper–

“Psychic or empath?” the man asks without looking away from the shelf, a slight raspiness to his voice that has your stomach flip-flopping before full awareness of his question even registers.

Startled back into your own head, you can only manage an eloquent, “Huh?”

He finally turns, piercing you with his gaze, intense yet not unkind. The storm afflicting his temperament lessens some, followed by a series of feather-light curious touches along the edges of your mind-gift.

You suck in a breath, expecting the stinging bolt of displeasure that usually follows when someone interacts with your empathy. Whether they’re being delicate or not, it’s never fun to have the most sensitive part of yourself poked and prodded and toyed with. But there are no symptoms of a headache in the seconds that follow. Only a strange sort of thrill at the connection. A sense of rightness.

And there’s that damn fluttering again…

Once again, you find yourself caught off-guard, unsure how the roles have swapped so quickly from you seeking to comfort a stranger to now you being comforted by him.

“Empath,” he says after another beat, answering his own question with a confidence that’s neither tentative nor arrogant. It sounds like a regular fact of life. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, and you’re an empath. 

“Y-yeah, that’s right.” You nod your head, hands trembling where they are clutching Banjo’s leash. God, you don’t understand what’s wrong with you, why his stare has such a strong effect on your galloping heartbeat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

The man looks down at Banjo then, taking in his snaggletoothed grin and perked ears with a soft smile of his own. “Cocker, poodle, schnauzer—interesting ancestry. I bet you have quite the story to tell.”

How did he–? You shake your head, getting your thoughts in some semblance of an order now that you’re no longer the sole focus of his attention. “This is Banjo. I adopted him from the shelter last weekend. We’re still getting to know each other.”

“Oh, good,” his soft grin widens, revealing a dimple in the side of his cheek. “It won’t take long to catch up then. How do you feel about takeout?”

You blink, frowning because huh? Is he just asking your opinion or is he asking something…more? It’s been so long since you’ve been asked on a date, you’re not even sure what the common etiquette is anymore. Isn’t everything arranged online nowadays? Swiping left or right and all that app rubbish?

“My schedule is unpredictable which leaves little time for cooking or grocery shopping, so at least three days a week I order takeout,” he continues, seemingly oblivious to your increasing confusion. “I also have frequent bouts of chronic insomnia, sometimes I’m up for days without any sleep.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

The question comes out sounding ruder than it had in your head, but if he’s offended by it the man shows no outward sign. “I figured if I were in your shoes, I’d want to know upfront the annoying traits of who I’ve matched with.”

“Who I’ve–?” you choke on the words, eyes widening.

Oh, you think faintly, a strange clarity sweeping over you, at last connecting the dots that seem so incredibly obvious now. What better reprieve for an overwhelmed mind-gift than an underwater safe haven muffling the chaos of the city. It’s you.

The Offer

“Rockford,” the man—your match—says, extending a hand to shake, warm and calloused. “Tim Rockford.”

You introduce yourself, probably looking a bit unhinged with how wide you’re grinning but you can’t help it. You finally found your match. The urge to run to Dr. Odair’s office and jump on her sofa, screaming he’s actually fucking real! at the top of your lungs is near irresistible.  

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Rockford says. “I had a feeling our paths would cross soon once I settled into my new place. An apartment a couple blocks from here. Three bedrooms. One for me, one for my office, and the other is yours if you’re interested.”

Your eyebrows lift incredulously. “Seriously?”

“A good roommate is hard to find these days,” Rockford responds easily, shrugging. “Who better to live with than my match?”

You think about sharing a space with someone else. Someone who's human that you can have a two-way conversation with over meals, who doesn’t react to your mind-gift with repulsion or contempt. He makes a good point; good roommates are hard to find. A yes sits on the tip of your tongue, held back by a little voice in the back of your head insisting it’s too good to be true. He’ll grow tired of you eventually. Get sick of you dipping in and out of his head like a parasite. You should say no. There’s too much of a high potential you’ll wind up hurt and alone again. It’s too risky.

But, another voice chimes in, deep down beside the fragile hope, if it worked out for all the other matched pairs, then aren’t the odds in your favor? 

“You barely know me,” is what ends up coming out of your mouth, a weak extending of a shovel for him to dig himself out of his offer.

He hums a thoughtful note, head tilting to one side, and your shoulders start to instinctively tense up in preparation of rapid backpedaling. A sudden wave washes over your mind-gift, though, steady reassurance drowning your budding fears.

“I know you’ve recently been discharged from the military,” he begins calmly, that same matter-of-fact tone from before. “I know you’re new to the city, not by personal choice but because you must attend mandatory sessions with a psychologist who resides here and has an excellent reputation with patients sharing your similar background. You’ve begun dreading the appointments—possibly because of trust issues, more likely because until you meet your match there’s very little she can do for your empathy and that frustrates you. And I know you adopted Banjo hoping he would pass as a substitute for me, but while he’s been helpful providing companionship, your mind-gift has continued causing you pain up until our meeting.” A pause for a quiet breath. “I think we have quite a solid foundation already, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Roan?”

“I–you–what?” You blink dumbly at him, brain function short-circuiting. Seriously, what? “How on earth…?”

“We all have our gifts."

And maybe it’s because he doesn’t elaborate further, meeting your quizzical stare evenly, still emanating steady reassurance, that makes it surprisingly easy for you to make a decision. You want to know this man. Not just his likes and dislikes, no, you want to know his happiness, his hurt, all the miserable shades of his sadness and every sharp pang of his rage. You want to look at him the way he looks at you: confident and steadfast. Unique to him in all the world.

If the stories are true and he’s going to be a part of your life for a long, long time, then you have the distinct feeling you’re going to need every one of those precious seconds to understand the infinite depths of Tim Rockford.

So, you nod your head. “Okay,” you tell him, lips curling at the corners into another wide grin when you detect how pleased he is with your agreement. “Let’s give it a try.”

“Meet me there tomorrow afternoon,” he says, grabbing the book he’d been burning holes into earlier with his glare. “445D Albatross Lane. Bright yellow door, can’t miss it.”

Then, turning on his heel in one fluid movement, he heads for the front desk, leaving you to process how a single meeting has just shifted your entire world on its axis.

[prolix-yuy]

In honor of your Bangathon, I spun the wheel 🤣

So we have froggy style with *drum roll* none other than our warm, feral racoon man Dieter Bravo. And we just need that sultry foul mouth.

I'm so excited for all the drabble that are going to come of this.

Lovely Britt! It is the penultimate day of the Bangathon and I've thrown all my rules out the window. Dieter double feature, absolutely obliterating my word count, and I'm having way too much fun with it. Let's get froggy with our raccoon boy!

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Position: Froggy Style

Word Count: 2656 (it's 12:45am, there are no gods, no one can save me)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering (f receiving), PiV sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, public sex, sex parties, mentions of fetish play.

Notes: This idea came to me in a dream and I had to write it, word count be damned! Technically I'm spoiling the ending with just the pairing, but I'm sure you would have guessed it instantly either way. Let's go!

“This is a little too Eyes Wide Shut for me,” you tell your friend Ana as she urges you through the front door of a Hollywood mansion. Your voice is muffled by the mask you wear, black lace molded to look like a cat. Only your eyes are visible, held on with a thick ribbon tied behind your head. Ana is sporting a rabbit mask, maybe a little on the nose for the occasion but you could appreciate the honesty. 

“Then why did you accept my invitation?” she asks, all smug grace and poise in the skimpy red dress she matched to her disguise. You’re more akin to a kitten, steps uncertain and timid as you take in the room and all its inhabitants. 

It had been too tempting, one of Ana’s fellow actors inviting her out to a “masquerade.” When she saw your eyes widen, heat rising in your cheeks, she made a phone call and extended your own invitation. It would have been rude to deny. But now, co-mingling with people who would never know you in the outside world, it all feels like a bad idea.  

Men and women alike are masked, some more on display than others. One fox woman is in barely-there lingerie, a falcon man in low-slung gray sweatpants and nothing else. Your skin tingles in anticipation, the long black dress hugging your form a comfort against the tickle of eyes. 

“If you get cold feet, just leave before the selection,” Ana says, stepping away from you to grab a couple glasses of champagne. You’re about to question how you’ll drink it when you see golden straws circling the lip.

“They thought of everything,” you murmur, eliciting a chuckle from her. 

“Anything catch your eye?” she says salaciously, and you bat her away before surveying the room. Many wolves and lions, a few birds of prey, some dog masks that look suspiciously close to fetish gear. Bodies of all types, but nothing that stood out enough to make you salivate.

“We’ll see,” you say as a chime sounds and the crowd moves deeper into the house. Ana walks next to you, head turning to take in the potentials. You keep yours tilted up, admiring the fresco on the ceiling and trying to ground yourself.

“It’s a pretty good replica, but the real thing is better,” says a deep male voice next to your shoulder. 

“The blue is really vibrant,” you reply, “Looks like they followed traditional techniques.” 

“Only the best for our esteemed hosts,” he muses, making a smile come to your hidden lips.

“Not a fan?” you tease, an entryway coming into view.

“I would never say an unkind word about those that invite me in their home,” the man says with faux adoration, “but yes, they're extremely tacky and most of their art is fake.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laugh, turning to see who’s speaking but no one is directly behind you anymore. He must have melted into the crowd. You’re about to ask Ana if she saw him when you come to a bottleneck, two darkly dressed attendants speaking to each guest.

“Are you open to being chosen tonight?” the bright-eyed woman to your right says, holding out a red string bracelet. You swallow hard.

“Yes.”

She affixes the string around your wrist, letting you enter the open courtyard. Silver stars twinkle in the indigo sky, braziers lit around the room offering warmth and golden light. A group of guests, mostly male-presenting, gather in the middle of the courtyard. Around the peripheries, mixed company lounge on crisp white couches in various poses of seduction. You settle on one, letting Ana wander away. 

Once guests stopped filing in, another chime sounds and the group begins thinning out. Some remain, nodding to companions or conversing. The majority wander the perimeter, extending hands or sitting beside their choices. 

Anxiety wells in your throat. What was someone supposed to choose you for? You’re among the Hollywood twelves, smuggled in by your connections. What would they want with your cheap dress and cheaper tastes? What could they judge from a glance?

Suddenly, there’s a hand extended before you. 

“Would you care to be chosen, gatita?”

The voice is familiar, the same man from before. Putting visuals to him is more powerful than you thought. He’s in silk pajamas, white and tan with beautiful renditions of bare-branched trees poking up from red and green brush. You even spy some hunting dogs pointing at invisible prey. Covering his face is a brass-colored raccoon mask, tied with red ribbon. His eyes are dark pools behind it, a halo of wild chocolate curls framing the edges. As much as you want to laugh at the raccoon mask, something about it on this man curls excitement in your stomach. It reminds you less of cute animal videos you send to your friends, more of glittering eyes in the dead of night, and the fear of a vicious bite. 

You extend your hand, and his palm is soft and large under yours. “Can it be…private?” you ask, already glimpsing the bold undressing of some guests, others watching on. 

“As the lady wishes,” he concedes, leading you away from the crowd. As you ascend a set of stairs, you converse again.

“Why do the hosts have so much fake artwork?” 

He snorts, keeping your hand in his.

“Because it’s expected. Big house has to be full of priceless art. But you can’t have priceless art in every house, so you compromise. Say it’s on loan, from a museum, from a friend. A grand lie they all pretend to believe.”

“And what’s in your house?” you ask, reaching the top of the stairs. He pauses, eyes roaming you appreciatively. 

“Knew I picked a clever one,” he says, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. “Only originals. My own.” He leads you around a catwalk and down a hall with several doors.

“So you’re an artist?” you ask, stroking your thumb along his. It makes him squeeze your hand back. 

“Among other things,” he murmurs before stopping in front of a door with a tag hanging off the handle. Pocketing it, he enters the bedroom, locking the door behind you. 

It’s too lavish, an abundance of velvet and ruffles that makes you smirk at the raccoon’s earlier comments. He steps in and stands at the foot of the bed, waiting for you to follow. The bravery you’d mustered earlier evaporates when the door shuts, and now you hover by the edge of the bed.

“Gatita, if this isn’t what you want, I’ll leave. It’s only fun if we’re both having it.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head, stepping closer. His hands come up to smooth over your arms, moving to cup the back of your neck. Tugging you into his broad chest, his fingers find your zip and pull it ever so slightly.

“Would you like to know what I want to do to you?” he breathes in your ear, and you manage a weak yes before he starts unzipping your dress tooth by tooth.

“I’m going to remove this dress, and tease your nipples through your bra before taking it off - one handed, of course. Then I’ll lay you back and pleasure your pretty pussy with my fingers until you’re begging for my cock. Once you’re ready to explode I’ll join you in the bed and put you on all fours so I can hit deep and hard inside you. Make you cum on my dick once, then do it again. Maybe even get you to squirt if you’ve never done that. After all that, if you’re very good for me, I’ll keep making you cum all night. How does that sound?”

Could you actually orgasm from his voice alone? You sincerely worry you will as your dress slips to the floor, leaving you in your prettiest lingerie pressed against his intoxicating silks. 

“What about the masks?” you manage to get out, the stiff covering starting to itch against your overheated face.

“Let’s leave them on for now. The mystery is half the fun,” he says, hands sliding up to cup your breasts and thumb lightly at your peaked nipples. You gasp, letting your head roll back. 

“Oh, gatita, I’ll make you feel so good tonight.”

True to his word, the raccoon touches and teases you within an inch of your sanity, talented fingers caressing every erogenous zone until you’re aching and shaking with need. You swear if he even circles your clit once you’ll cum so hard you’ll need an ambulance. Want and desire burns hot in your veins, hands searching for his skin and only getting small touches. The caress of your fingers along the open expanse of his chest. Fingers entwining as he presses you down into the mattress. The skin across his lower back. He keeps just far enough away to tease, but always close enough to work you to dizzying heights. 

“Please,” you whimper after the umpteenth time he’s worked you up and stopped before you could crest. Tilting his head, he leaves another featherlight touch over your clit.

“Ask me for it,” he gruffs out, voice even deeper with desire. “Ask me to fuck you. Ask me to be inside you.” 

The words tumble out of your lips. “Please fuck me, please, any way you want. I need to feel you inside me, need to cum around you. You’ll feel so good, I’ll make you feel so good…” You could beg for hours more but he’s turning you over and moving you up the bed, settling on his knees behind you. Tugging your hips, he lifts you to crouch, hands on the bed and feet planted under bent knees. The position is new to you, but the control you feel like this, hearing the condom wrapper rip and the pops of the last few buttons on his shirt, is thick in your veins.

“Tilt your hips,” he orders, and you arch your back to offer your needy cunt to him. He stretched you well on his fingers, but just the snug fit of his head pressing inside you widens your eyes.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you gasp, earning a soothing stroke over your hips.

“Sure know how to make my cock even harder, gatita. Say it again.”

You whine through your teeth as he sinks further in, stroking two fingers over your clit.

‘“Fuck, you’re so big, my pussy’s full of you, I don’t know how it’s gonna fit inside me but fuck, I want it.” The end rushes out as he shallowly fucks into you, letting you adjust to his girth.

“Oh gatita, don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” he promises, rolling his hips even deeper. Your arms shake with the effort of holding yourself up, mask hot and sticky with sweat as you pant into the fabric. You want nothing more than to rip it off and let him devour you, whoever he may be. 

Finally, he’s fully seated and you’re delirious with how stuffed you are. One slow stroke out makes you grip the sheets, waiting for him to fill you again.

He's not making you wait any longer. The pace is firm, steady to start, working you around his cock and soaking him with your arousal. Your calves begin to burn but you pay no mind, instead using the leverage to push back against him. He groans at this, helping guide your hips with his hot touch.

“Fuck, your pussy is goddamn divine, squeezing me so tight. I’m gonna make you cum around me and then I’ll give you what you deserve.” Your head spins as he speeds up, every thrust angled right into your g-spot with mind-blowing accuracy. Gathering slick from your dripping cunt, he circles your clit steadily as you clamp down on him, the precipice of your orgasm right at your fingertips.

“Oh fuck I’m cumming,” you squeak before your knees give out, arms buckling as you tumble into the pillows with every nerve ending singing his praises. He’s firm behind you, murmuring how good of a girl you are, how good you’re cumming on him, how hard he has to try not to cum yet. The praise melts you down into barely perceiving a world outside the pleasures of your body.

Once the aftershocks subside, your cunt even tighter around his throbbing cock, the man speaks.

“That was so good, gatita. Now hold on.” At that he begins well and truly fucking you, deep and fast with snarls dripped onto your skin. You half expect to feel a bite, but only his fingers dig in to your thighs to keep you pressed tight against him. You let him use your pussy, content just to feel him pulse inside, when his fingers return to your clit.

“Did you think I was done with this?” he pants, teasing the sensitive bud from overstimulation back to drenching pleasure as he coaxes another orgasm to the surface. “Together this time, on five, four, three…”

You can’t believe this man is going to orchestrate your orgasm, but just as he’s nearing one you feel the telltale tingle erupt into molten fire filling your lungs with a wild shout. He’s shouting too, buried in your cunt and shuddering. It takes long minutes for you both to catch your breaths, white spots dancing around the edge of your vision. Finally he eases out, tugging your knees back to lay you down. You welcome the change, body relaxing as you hear him throw out the condom and return with tissues.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you say, still a little loopy from all the endorphins flooding your brain. The raccoon man chuckles as you turn and sit up, admiring him standing in those designer pajamas, bottoms pulled up but top still open. Your mind wanders to kissing every inch of his chest, sucking a hickey into his collarbone. A small fear in your chest, unknown even to you, falls away.

“I’d like to take the mask off,” you say, looking up at the raccoon man. His hands falter, coming to his waist and tapping nervously. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, trepidation in his voice. You nod.

“It’s okay, I’m a nobody,” you say, hands on the ribbon behind your head.

“I’m not,” he says quietly, stilling your motions. He’s turning away from you, tense and anxious. You know the feeling.

“You don’t have to. I won’t ask you to. But I'm okay with you knowing me.” You tug at the ribbons and let the cat mask fall away. You skin can finally breathe, making you sigh in relief. The raccoon’s eyes snap to you, and all the hard lines of his body soften.

“You’re...more beautiful than I hoped,” he says, awe in his voice. It makes your skin heat up again, a shy smile fighting on your face. It was kind of sweet, the idea that this stranger would know you for only this night, and that it could be your secret. Even your face would be his and his alone. 

Then his hands lift to the back of his head, and the racoon mask comes away in his palms. 

A blink. Then two. Then shock paints your face. 

Did Dieter fucking Bravo just ruin your pussy?

But he’s kneeling on the bed and kissing you breathless, tearing the rest of his clothes off, and you remember the night’s still very young. 

Maybe you could share a few more secrets.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[madame-fear]

*ೃ༄ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 .ೃ࿐

— ☆ amira speaks: requested by my precious wifey @gothy-froggy, enjoy your reading, babe !! ♡♡♡ — summary : [ — ✧ request ] Being a princess and having your House revisiting King's Landing after a long time, you decide to finally spend some time with your childhood best friend, Aemond. As you're about to get unwantedly betrothed to some tedious Prince, you see the opportunity to ask him for a small, yet drastic favour. — word count : 5.2k

— pairing : aemond targaryen x princess!reader — genre : fluff

Years after not having visited King's Landing for a quite a long time, your House finally returned on a short trip as to provide support to House Targaryen, and tying their alliances together even stronger than they already are.

The entire trip through the Royal Carriage from your castle to King's Landing, you spent it anxiously fidgeting with your hands, feeling the way your heart rapidly pounded tightly against your chest. Mostly, you were nervous because you would be able to finally meet once again with your childhood best friend: Aemond Targaryen.

At a younger age, your House travelled to King's Landing several times, and all those times, you were taken with your parents. During those short visits, you managed to make friends with Aemond, mostly because just like him, you were rather quiet and timid — so your parents thought you could like, and befriend each other; taking every opportunity they saw fit as to pair you up with him, and you'd somehow end up talking and spending time together.

With the passing of time, your relationship leisurely bloomed, turning into a rather beautiful close friendship. You were always the one that he reached out to whenever he needed to release his thoughts with someone, and even, you were the one that tenderly comforted Aemond when he lost his eye and deeply grieved it. The one he could trust like no other person, and the one he most cherished with the entirety of his being.

Longing for your best friend everytime you were far away — like it was currently the case —, you always managed to talk to one another through letters sent by ravens, keeping in touch with whatever thing happened in your lives.

Fortunately, after some long, dreadful years, you would finally be able to meet the One Eyed Prince in person. Nervousness consummed you, and at the same time, said nerves were mixed with a delightful sensation of enthusiasm. Visiting him was some sort of gratyifing reward to you, especially, after sickening yourself with the thought that your father was choosing to betroth you to a particular Prince from a House your family had allies with, and you quite didn't like; receiving a bad feeling from him, and not wanting to be stuck in an unwanted marriage that would only serve to produce heirs.

As you arrived with the Royal Carriage to King's Landing, your House was greeted by some Royal Guards, whom all escorted you inside of the Red Keep, guiding you to the Throne's Room, where you'd be able to meet Queen Alicent Hightower and her children since King Viserys was, unfortunately, too sick to properly receive you once again in King's Landing. Throughout your entire walk to the Throne's Room, nearly approaching it, the strange mix of nerves and enthusiasm got the best of you, making you continously fidget with your fingers.

Entering to the Throne's Room, your family immediatly curtsied out of respect for the Queen, and her children. As you bowed down to curtsy along your own House, your eyes remained fixed on Aemond's eye, whom fervidly gazed back at you with a slight smirk on the corner of his lips; his hands hidden behind his back.

“House (L/N),” Alicent greeted warmly, smiling fondly at your House. “It's a true pleasure to receive your presence once again in King's Landing.” she continued, as you bowed your head down at her in gratitude while returning the wide grin. As the Queen focused on chatting with your mother and father, Aemond didn't take too long on hastily making his way towards you after not seeing you in person for years, his hand remaining behind his back.

“Aemond.” you greeted, trying to contain your keen grin that came a long a slight rosy tint on your cheeks. It seemed that he grew even more attractive and tall than the last time you had seen him in person. “Princess (y/n).” the One Eyed Prince greeted back, with a smile. One of his hands appeared from behind his back, taking yours in a delicate manner, and raising it to his lips. “Long time no see.” he continued, as he placed a soft kiss on your knuckles, and his eye was intensely fixed on you. “Indeed, it has been quite a long time of not seeing one another. I hope you missed me.” you joked, widely smiling at him.

A breathless chuckle escaped his lips at your playful self. “Of course. I think about you everyday.” at his words, the blush that faintly crept on your face seemed to intensify, becoming warmer. Before you could answer, Aemond once again spoke. “Would you like to take a walk with me through the gardens?” he inquired, with his hand still gently holding yours. “I am certain you'd be delighted to admire the sight of the vast flowers in the gardens, and we could talk about how our lives have been.” his proposal seemed quite enticing, you couldn't deny him.

The Prince let go of your hand, only to offer you his arm so you would take it to stroll together. Without a second thought, you ringed your arm around his, staring at him with a broad grin. “I'd love to.” you replied. And soon, you were guided by him to the gardens of the Red Keep. It was a silent walk, yet, enjoyable; as his warm presence soothed you.

Arriving to the gardens, your eyes scanned the entire place. It was truly a ravishing sight to admire, with vast flowers all over the garden shining brightly under the vivid sunrays. The joyful chirping sound of the birds was continously heard, as you walked together side-by-side, a slight grin remained on the corner of your lips.

“Do you like the view?” aemond inquired, lowering his sight to stare at you, as you dumbfoundedly admired the sight. Lifting your gaze to stare at him, you nodded. “It is truly beautiful, Aemond. Thank you for taking me here.” you thanked, and he briefly bowed down his head in response, warmly smiling at you. The One Eyed prince was grateful you liked the place, as he loved having you by his side in such a tranquil environment.

“I knew you'd enjoy the walk, issa prūmia.” he retorted, continuing to walk you around the garden. The way Aemond nicknamed you in High Valyrian made your heart feel intensely warm, but you disguised the fluster of hearing him call you endearing nicknames by simply focusing on the sweet scented flowers, gliding your fingertips leisurely around the flower petals.

A brief moment of silence was made, delightfully strolling together and admiring the recently bloomed flowers, as your arm was still looped around his own. Much like you, Aemond was also rather enthusiastic of finally meeting you in person after several years of simply exchanging letters, but he knew how to hide it well.

“How has your life been, (y/n)?” deciding to break the silence, you darted your gaze towards him, as he delicately took a small, crimson coloured flower from the gardens on his hands and twirled it. A sigh escaped from you, releasing a breathless chuckle from your lips, shaking your head with deception. “Not bad, but it does not mean I'm enjoying it.”

Curiously, he raised an eyebrow, descending his stare towards you with concern, and extended the small flower he held on his hand for you to take it. “May I ask why?” delicately taking the flower from him as he asked, you raised it to your sight, admiring the precious several shades of red it contained. “My father is planning to marry to a Prince from a House that is allies with our own, but there's something about him I don't quite like.” you spoke softly, yet vehemently, walking in a slow manner along him. “I'm not certain what it is, but I am not fond of him. I have the feeling, I'll be miserably stuck in an unhappy marriage, and the mere thought of it makes me terribly sick.”

Aemond couldn't protest anything about your objections of betrothing a Prince your father chose. Even if he tried to keep his feelings as hidden as possible, much like you, the thought of you betrothing an iniquitous man made a certain feeling of outrage grow inside of his chest. You deserved much better than a vile, spoiled Prince — but what could he do about it?

“How unfortunate. But I am sure you will find your way out of it, as betrothals are merely political conveniences to unite Houses.” a certain glowering look was seen on his eyes as he spoke, trying to hide the disapproval of your father's decision thst simply indignated him. You hummed in response, daintly twirling the small flower he gave you.

“Yes. And that's why, I want to ask you to do me a favour, Aemond.” his face seemed intrigued at whatever you'd ask him, attentively hearing you. “Hm? Yes, and what would that favour be?” he questioned, continuing to walk across the vast gardens, beautifully gleaming with the sunrays. A sudden mix of nervousness and courage spreaded across your chest, trying to rearrange your thoughts, and explain him the favour you needed him to do.

“My father has not yet officially betrothed me, he's still in the search of future Lord Husbands for me.” you continued, with a shaky sigh rolling off from you. His eye was fixed on you, notoriously curious and eager to know more. You took a deep courageous breath, unaware of what type of response to expect at the favour you'll ask him.

“Hence, I wish you to ask my father for my hand in betrothal, in order to avoid marrying a cocky, abusive Prince, and stay by the side of someone I truly trust.” luckily, those words managed to slip off your lips rather easily without stammering for a bit. But your nerves increased when both of you abruptly stopped walking, feeling his intense stare.

Nibbling on your bit discreetly, you raised your eyes anxiously, making eye contact with him. Even if you couldn't realise Aemond was bothered by the favour you asked him or not — making said nerves tighten your chest —, the Targaryen prince was truly doing his best to keep his tumultous feelings of excitement at hearing your statement.

Aemond continously tried denying himself the fact that, perhaps, he took a particular fondness for you that went beyond mere childhood friendship, but... he certainly wasn't wrong about it. The mere thought of getting to betroth you made Aemond tremendously joyful behind his usually stoic expression, even if he thought it was simply to make you a favour, and not because you were genuinely wishing to betroth him.

Noticing his lack of response, the panic began taking over you, unlooping your arm from his as he towered your own size by solely standing next to you; his eye gazing down at you, mesmerised. “I'm... S-Sorry if you do not–” before you could finish your sentence, nervously stuttering, the One Eyed prince was quick in interrupting you by taking a gentle hold of your hands.

“Do not apologise.” his voice was soft, yet vehement, trying to make you realise he really wasn't bothered. Deeply breathing, he prepared himself for his own response. “I would be honoured to fulfill such favour with great delight.” your eyes stared at his own with surprise, but... It was a nice, unexpected surprise; one that made a deep sigh of relief roll of from you. Leaning closer to your face with his own, his rosy lips were placed on top of your forehead, planting a lasting kiss on that zone that made your cheeks blush with a warm, notorious shade of crimson.

Relief washed over you, his fingertips caressing your own hand in comfort; your eyes fluttered shut giving into the feeling. After placing a kiss on your forehead, he rested his chin on top of your head, intoxicating yourself with his scent.

“Allow me to handle the situation. Before your return to your castle, I will speak to your father about our betrothal.” he whispered sweetly, as you began to hide your face on his chest.

It felt like a dream, but it was a reality. The thought of betrothing Aemond made your heart warm with a comforting sense of peace, even if you asked him to do so merely as a favour to yourself. But the true feelings were unbeknownst for both of you.

A few moons later had passed after asking Aemond to do you a favour, and spare yourself from your father's bad decision when it came to marrying you with someone. Much to your delight, your father approved of Aemond's proposal of betrothing you, and becoming your husband. After all, it would benefit both your Houses to strengthen the union.

Said betrothal gave you the opportunity to spend more time together, since King's Landing would be your new home as Aemond's future Wife and you had to get used to the new place. Craving for each other's warm presence, it wasn't difficult for you to get used to being by one another's side the entirety of the passing days until your wedding ceremony.

And being the proud man Aemond is, spending time with him included meeting his dragon, Vhagar. Next to you, Vhagar was his most beloved treasure; and his two most beloved treasures had to meet each other for the first time, of course.

Even if it took you some minutes to calm your fright at the sight of such grand, old menacing dragon, noticing Vhagar took a quick liking to you by curiously smelling and licking your face made a sense of relief wash over your anxiety; feeling a bit more confident to pet it's snout and scales without being too scared of her burning you to ashes.

Aemond proudly admired the interaction, occasionally teaching you some High Valyrian words to properly communicate with Vhagar. After succesfully bonding with Vhagar and having her approval, the next challenge came: riding a dragon for the very first time. It took you some time to accept that idea, but after some intense insisting, you gave up, and allowed Aemond to take you out on a ride on Vhagar's back.

And here you were, currently flying up on the bright skies with the One Eyed prince. Your arms were tightly wrapped around Aemond's body as if you were fearing for your fear life, with your cheek pressed against his back and your eyes closed, trying not to stare. A smirk was drawn across the corner of his lips at noticing how nervous you were of riding Vhagar, as his gloved hands took a tight grip on the dragon's reins.

“I can assure you, my love, you won't be falling. I would not allow that to happen, ever.” he assured in a gentle tone. His platinum hair swayed along the cool breeze, as well as your own. Gripping on him tightly, you nodded. “I-I know, it's just...” you began, taking some courage, and beginning to leisurely flutter your eyes open.

You were both nearer to the clouds than you imagined. The grand dragon flew over the ocean, shadowing it thanks to her size. “I have never flown a dragon before, obviously.” in response, he chuckled at your response. “And you'll have to get used to it, because this is only the first to our many dragon rides together.” aemond teased, making you scoff playfully.

Slowly, as time passed with your eyes being open and admiring the view, the fear you previously felt at being at such heights washed away, turning into a sense of liberty. Especially, at having the opportunity to live this moment, and many more, with Aemond only. The provider of your comfort, your friend, your betrothed, and... one and true love.

Your cheek remained pressed against his, as your body slowly relaxed from being previously stiff. Aemond could feel the way your body stopped being tense from behind of him, making his smile grow broader with pride. Obviously, you weren't aware of it, but his pale cheeks were tinted into a delicate shade of pink at the feeling of your warm presence against his body, riding a dragon together for the first time.

“Aemond?” you murmured quietly, as your view was slightly covered with some strands of hair that swayed along the wind. “Yes, issa jorraelagon?” he replied, continuing to guide Vhagar above the ocean, trying to provide you with a thrilling view. A few seconds of silence was made amongst the two of you, only being heard the gusts of wind, and the flapping motion of the dragon's wings.

“I... Love you. I always have, more than you could possibly imagine. And I wish nothing, but to be on top of the world by your side, as my husband.” those words seemed to roll with too much peace, and tranquility, your eyes going back to being closed shut; this time, with a vast sense of comforting joy. It seemed casual, as if you had said that statement a thousand of times before.

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at hearing your words, not having expected for his feelings to be returned. Even if he wasn't usually a very expressive person, he couldn't deny he held deep feelings for you, that he couldn't possibly share for anyone else; the type of love that would bring him to do absolutely anything merely to protect, or show you his affection. His smile grew stupidly wider, accompanied by a crimson fluster staining his delicate features.

“And I have always loved you as well, my beloved (y/n).” his voice tone remained tranquil, but his face was tainted with great sense of satisfaction at being loved back by you. “We will be together on top of the world soon, my love. You and I, together... as Husband and Wife.” he continued, feeling at ease of finally saying those words to you, without feeling hesitant due to the possibility of rejection.

His heart throbbed with content, delighted at the thought that his marriage with you would not be merely because of a favour. It was a strange new feeling of love for him, but one he craved for to feel from you.

Gods, Aemond could not wait until he finally landed Vhagar back on her dragonpit, and he was able to kiss those beauteous lips of yours that he had always yearned to feel against of his very own.

♡ taglist : ♡

@tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dragon430 @chompchompluke

[mythos321]

Part 2 of my WoF x Persona Au!

Chapter Two:Leap Through Fire!

As Clay emerged from the flames of his Persona, he now wore a black tailcoat over a high necked waistcoat and black pants, which hid most of his muscular body, with the white bird like mask upon his face once again, now worn with pride, as His Persona continued its introduction from before.

“I am The Dark Son of Gaia, Obsidian, I am the soul of the rebel within you! If you so desire, I shall grant you the power to relieve yourself of this crisis”

“Give me your power, and destroy them all, Obsidian!” Clay said with a strengthened resolve and confident aura around him, as he destroyed what was left of the guards, and Clay grabbed Tsunami and threw her onto his back and began to hold her there with his wings.

“Wh-What’s going on!” Tsunami shouted on top of him, still haven’t fully taken in whatever is happening

“I don’t know! But it feels amazing! Let’s get the hell out of here now!” Clay yelled as he ran out of the cell door and saw the cowering Shadow Whirlpool

“H-how could you! who do you think you are stepping to The King!” Before He could finish, Tsunami jumped off of Clays back and socked the so called king in his froggy eyes

“Yeah! you like that you son of a Batfish?!” Tsunami yelled, as Clay then picked the “King” up by his tail and threw him into the back of cell they were previously in with zero effort, then burning the lock with his fire so it wouldn’t budge

“Get back here! you can’t do this to me!” King Whirlpool shouted helplessly as Tsunami hopped back onto Clays back, and the duo ran off.

“So, what was that anyway?! that strange serpent(?) thing, and clothes, why are you wearing clothes now?! fancy ones at that!” Tsunami kept questioning, and Clay couldn’t even hope to give her an answer, as it was all as confusing for her as it was for him…though also a lot more fun.

as they kept running however, Clays attire suddenly changed back to normal, the duo both looked completely bewildered while still keeping on the run, until they finally found a large gate and without thinking, Clay tried to run into it, and though they made it momentarily budge, the gate stayed up, and instead Clay was left with a mild pain as Tsunami herself fell off from his back after the impact

“Maybe if we slam it the same time it could break down?” Clay asked Tsunami, who seemed to be in a sudden massive pain, which Clay saw was mostly in the area of her wing joints

“Your wings…did Whirlpool do something to them?…it’s not my fault right?”

“As if that bastard could, and no, it ain’t because of you…but, I don’t wanna talk about it…” Tsunami seemed to become surprisingly depressed in a quick time, and Clay decided not to push on the obviously painful subject.

“I understand, I’ll keep carrying you then, and we can find another way.” Clay offered, and put Tsunami back on him, with her clearly still in pain at her wings lower joints.

As the two continued through the dungeon area, Clay nearly walked into a hallway when it suddenly bursted with flames.

“Shit, that’s not good! how the hell do we get out now!”

“…Do you trust me?”

“I mean, a little? I don’t see how that factors right now”

“Just get under me, and I’ll wrap you with my wings for the next part, hold em tightly u like a blanket if you have to!”

“Wait…are you going to launch yourself through the fire?!? are you insane! you’ll turn into a crispy mess and I’ll end cooked alive!”

“Just trust me! I can easily get us through this!”

“…alright, just….don’t get us killed, okay?” Tsunami said, as Clay covered her under his wings, and he launched through the fiery pathway, going 3 quarters through before rolling them through the end

“Three moons, we’re actually okay!”

“Told ya!” Clay stated as his body quickly cooled off from the leap through fire

“Wait, did your persona give you some fire immunity or something?”

“Not at all! I was just kinda born with it!”

“Wait, you were born from a blood red egg! That’s badass!”

“Thanks!

“…huh, guess so! y’know you’re way better than I thought you’d be…can I be honest? I completely thought you’d book it back there, at the cell, before you summoned that ghost thing, so, thanks for not leaving me to die!”

“Bah, you’d have done the same for me!” Clay gave Tsunami a smile, as she seemed to glow on part of her scales, and Clay now looked a little confused and curipus

“Oh, forgot other tribes don’t know those, um, that was aquatic for- eh, it doesn’t matter much.” Tsunami seemed to let whatever she said, as the two then saw a group of shadows approaching, and Clay jumped into a small hiding spot for them both, until the guards finally went away, and they continued their trek through the dungeon area.

“Damn it, if we don’t find a way out of here soon, I feel like we’ll be done for!” Tsunami voiced her frustration, as the two suddenly heard a clanking sound near one of the cells up ahead, almost like something, or someone, was trying to get their attention

As the two slowly made their way to the cell, Tsunami noticed multiple prisoners in various cells, all various young seawings that seemed to be void of consciousness, just standing in their cells, void of any emotion. The worst part of it all, was Tsunami could almost recognize each face as they passed through.

“Hey, everything alright?” Clay asked as he saw Tsunamis discomfort

“It’s…it’s nothing, I’ll tell you in a second I guess, let’s just find out what the hell is over there.”

As the duo creeped upon the final cell, they kept their guard up in case it was some sort of trap.

“Hey, you two! you’re the ones who started rushing through the castle dungeon right?” said the voice in the cell as Clay and Tsunami continued to etch towards them, before jumping forward and looking straight ahead…and seeing no one.

“huh? where are they? Shit, was it actually a trap!” Tsunami wondered out loud, even though she was clearly in no condition to fight it wasn’t gonna stop her from trying if she has to.

“Hey! Big Guy, Jacket Gal, I’m down here!” The two heard the voice once again, and looked down to see a small seawing like creature, wearing something similar to bandit clothing, and physically looked about 4 and a half years old, but was only the size of a 2 year old Dragonet. The strangest part though were his dark green eyes, which not only had what appeared to be traces of gold apart of them, but also shaped similarly to a cats!

“Woah! what’s with your eyes!” Tsunami blurted out

“You’re not castle soldiers right?” The Green Dragonet asked, more scared in tone

“As if we’d ever work with this shitheel! We’re trying to get the hell out of here! If anything, you look more like an enemy! you ever got creepy eyes like Whirlpool!” Tsunami stated

“How can I be an enemy you dunce! I’m locked in a cell!” The Seawing pointed out, now a mix of scared and angry

“Hey, don’t worry. You want us to help you out right?” Clay comforted them, though slightly thrown off initially by their eyes, he could tell they’re a kid just like him or Tsunami, though younger by a year or two.

“YES! please! They threw my key away, so I really need your help out!” The Seawing pleaded, and Clay tried to figure out a way to get them out

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

Clay heard Obsidian in his mind once again, and after a moment of concentration managed to bring it forth, momentarily freaking out Tsunami yet making the young Seawing excite

“You have a persona! great! just have it take off the door!” The Seawing instructed

“…you may want to back away for this one” Clay stated, as an image came forth in his mind, and he pointed towards the doors lock. Obsidians head then began to morph, changing into that of a shotgun, and blasted off not only the lock, but most of the cell, leaving The Seawing shocked yet intrigued while Tsunami was baffled at what Clays persona just did.

“I’m sorry, did that thing just turn its face into a shotgun?!” Tsunami asked, as The Younger Seawing jumped through the hole in the door

“Must be a power of your Persona! Truly impressive for someone I can tell is just starting out!”

“…So, what’s up with the eyes?” Clay asked, now that The young Seawing was free

“I’m not sure, far as my memory goes, I’ve always had these golden greens!” The Seawing State stated, clearly proud of them

“No, he meant why are they like a cats.” Tsunami stated. “Also knowing why you’re so small would be nice.”

“That’s none of your business!…well, now that I’m free, what do you say to a partnership? you helped me out, and now I’ll help you out!” The Seawing offered, holding out his hand to shake

“Sounds good to me.” Clay shook the young Seawings hand, and they shot each other a smile.

“Turtle.” The Young Seawing told his name

“Moose.” Clay said back, making Turtle and Tsunami both look confused

“Wait, um, no, my name is-” before Turtle could explain, Clay began snickering

“Oh my moons, I’m just messing with you two, I know how Seawing names work.” Clay kept laughing, as the three now continued through the dungeon, finding a drawbridge over a large abyss with a statue of Whirlpool next to it.

Clay was about to suggest flying, until he realized 2 things. First was that since Whirlpool himself was a dragon, why would he imagine a drawbridge if he himself could fly over it, meaning it may be another trap. The second was that Tsunamis wings were not in good shape to put the strain of flying on them. Clay then looked towards Turtle for answers, with which he delivered

“Well, Clay, since you seem to know things better than Jacket Gal over there, I’ll mainly show you how to go about something like this.” Turtle said, with Tsunami looking angry at the insult. “As you’ll seen soon enough, this statues mouth contains a secret button! press on that, and you’ll make this drawbridge lower in no time!”

Clay did as Turtle instructed, and the drawbridge lowered itself just as they hoped.

“How the hell were we supposed to know that?!?” Tsunami questioned

“Pff, you’re such an amateur, Jacket Gal, now let’s keep going!” Turtle stated, and the 3 ran across the drawbridge, only for them to suddenly be surrounded by castle soldiers, and Clay suddenly went back into his Phantom Thief attire

“SHIT ITS THEM.” Tsunami shouted, clearly frightened as she grabbed a random candlestick to defend with

“You really are amateur! as if that would do anything to them! Just stay still and don’t get hurt.” Turtle said as he jumped off of Tsunami and next to Clay. “Say, you can fight right? Let’s do this!” Turtle then concentrated, as he then became surrounded by a beam of green light.

“Come forth, Honu!” Turtle shouted, as he manifested a giant emerald colored being that seemed to be partly turtle and partly dragon like in its appearance, with a large powerful golden brown shell upon its back that also sprouted a set of long dragon wings. It also powerful arms that had flippers partially stick out from the forearms and legs. and held in its claws a gigantic fishhook with a sharp edge to it. It wore a slightly open coat fitted with long shoulder pads fitted with a green cape with golden edges, and its head was similar to a seawings, but with long white horns similar to that of its hook replacing the normal seawing horns. To top it all off was a pair of black pants held by a massive belt buckle shaped similar to a Turtle.

“This’d be light work for even one of us! but with us both? It couldn’t be easier!” Turtle declared as he and Clay prepared to face the shadows.

[kermit-ydafrog]

Hi! My name is Kermity Da Frog!

Or Kermity for short

And welcome to my Blog!

In this blog I tend to post random stuff and give out advices

(No I am not a professional Therapist just here to help if I can)

Anyways! Here are some Stuff about me!

Name: Kemity Da Frog

Nickname: Froggy or Kermity

Age: 🐸

Address: 🌅

I take Reader x Characters!(Writing, Headcannons, Drawing etc)

Request: Open

Ask: Open

Fandoms I'm in/interested in/Like/Write For/Draw For:

Gacha Life/Club/Life 2(OC Drawing request)

Creepypasta

Amanda The Adventurer

Pokemon

Countryballs(ONLY COUNTYBALLS I'M NOT A FAN OF COUNTRY HUMANS/ONLY DRAWINGS)

Among Us(Imposter V4, CG5 Among Us & Among Us Logic)

Rainbow Friends

Chucky(DRAWINGS ONLY)

Helluva Boss

Hazbin Hotel

Cookie Run(@sugarcreambiteskingdom)

FNF

Cult Of The Lamb

Gravity Falls

MLP

Baldi Basic

FNAF(Platonic because they all kids :3)

Bendy The Ink Machine

Bugsnax

Inside Out(DRAWINGS ONLY)

Minecraft

Welcome Home

Willy Wonderland

Stardew Valley

TF2

The Stanley Parable

The Amazing Digital Circus

Sprunki ( @sprunkiblog )

Rules for requesting:

Red = DNI

Green = Is okay

Pedophiles

Any Reader x Child(EVEN IF WE AGE THEM UP IS NOT OKAY)

Incest

Homophobic (As long as you respect the people in the LGBTQ but doesn't support it your fine your not homophobic I'm chill with you)

Any Reader x Child is automatically PLATONIC

People being disrespectful to others

NSFW(Sexually...)(Blood, Gore and Angst is fine with me)

My Other Blogs(If interested in)

@radiodustblog (Roleplay)

@static-angel143 (Roleplay)

@sugarcreambiteskingdom (Cookie Run stuff)

@9-deadly-rings-series (HH/HB OC storyline)

To those people who's sending me in my inbox about saving Palestine/gaza

Masterlist

Anon List

[iolaussharpe-24]

Hypothetically speaking... if I could improve my Wednesday doll, or make another Jenna Ortega character (I'm thinking maybe Astrid Deetz or Tara Carpenter or something.) how could I do it?

Like with everything, I have thoughts.

One thing I've been thinking a lot about is the face sculpt. Yes, even after I went nuts looking for the one I eventually got and am currently using. I saw another sculpt that I really liked, and through that I found another one.

Here's the lineup:

My Froggy Stuff made a Wednesday with this Barbie, Fashionista 188. She cut, dyed, and styled the hair, colored the eyes, darkened the eyeshadow, and added freckles for the likeness and I'm pretty sure I've seen other people use this same doll to do custom Wednesdays.

I made mine with this Pink Passport Barbie. She's not perfect, you could argue that she's not even good, but I did what I could and I'm not posting a picture of her for discussion. Yall have heard my spiel.

However, I recently discovered the Claudette face mold and I really like it, but I don't see one with a skin tone that really matches what I'm going for. The closest I found was the black Holiday Barbie from 2016. The rest with this sculpt I found were either way too dark or way too pale.

I'm gonna start looking for this one (secondhand of course, cause that's how I get the majority of my dolls) but I won't know if she'll work or not until I see her in person. I got the BMR 1959 doll with this face recently, and that's when I noticed it kind of gave me the vibes I've been after even if my doll doesn't.

While looking at the Claudette sculpt, I discovered this one and... I love it. It's like a softer version of the other one, and I think that works really well. It's like the perfect middle ground between the two other sculpts on this post.

So much. But I don't know if she's the right pick either which kind of breaks my heart. This is Barbie Looks number 1 with the Lina face sculpt. The one that I think may be best out of all the ones with the sculpt that I've seen.

I love this sculpt a lot. She's so pretty and I've actually brought it up before because Barbie Looks 19 is one that I've been imagining as a Morticia for my dollhouse.

I think I'd like to use yarn to reroot one of these dolls if I could, because I think that would just be a nice texture and, if this hypothetical doll were going to just be an improved Wednesday, I think yarn fibers would result in really small braids. That's what I gathered from Hextian's Wednesday Addams video anyway.

(Roughly 12:27 if you want to skip straight to it.)

Another reason is that I think it would be easier to style. I've handled material like it before and it stood on end when I moved it before slowly falling flat much later. One of my biggest issues when trying to style doll hair, is that it slides out of whatever I'm trying to do with it before I can get anywhere near finished with it.

I've said before that I like Integrity Toys type bodies because I think that they have some more realistic details than most Barbie bodies while still being poseable (Barbie bodies with some of those details I'm talking about only have the five points.)

Most of those Integrity Toys type bodies are really tall though, and I'm trying to be accurate so... that wouldn't work. Best pick would be a petite Barbie body or maybe a Poppy Parker (but that's really not that small so the petite is preferable). Jenna is only about 5 '1 after all.

But, I want to point out that I love the hands that go with those bodies. They're so much more realistic than Barbie hands are. Even the basic ones. Another note to make is that I'd want to paint the nails. Probably black since so many of Jenna Ortega's movies and shows are really freaking dark. (Wednesday, You, X, Scream, The Babysitter: Killer Queen, etc.) Maybe red.

I'd want to do the lipstick too. Similar to the nails. Though, I will be the first to admit that she doesn't really wear a lot of bold lip colors. They usually look pretty natural.

So... what do you guys think?