#gold spine hoops.

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2022

2 DECEMBER 2022 || The Princess of Wales visited Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts and then took part in walkabout to greet the crowds gathered on her third day while on a trip to Boston for the Earthshot Awards along with Prince William.

Catherine opted for -

Bespoke Miles Long Sleeves Houndstooth Dress by Emilia Wickstead

Bespoke version of Gold Spine Hoop earrings Lenique Louis

'Harlow' Double Flap Small Satchel Bag from Mulberry

'Gianvito 105' Pumps in 'Black Suede' by Gianvito Rossi

[verrixstudios]

More Treasure Planet x Wings of Fire progress!!

Silver, Captain Amelia, and Delbert!!

I know their colors stray from ideal palettes to the tribes I gave them, but shhhh

[ID: Wings of Fire dragons based on characters from Treasure Planet. Each dragon has its respective character reference next to it, and the dragons colors and almost directly taken from the reference photos. A few colors are altered shades, but still close.

The top dragon is a heavy set mudwing with a wide stance and a blocky head. He is based on John Silver.His wings are upward but curled over in a semi-open spread. His right limbs, both legs and wing, are mechanical cyborg replacements. These limbs are heavily referenced to the characters in-movie limbs. His horns are sawed off halfway and given a gold cap cover, similar to his gold hoop earring. His tail is scarred near the end as if it had been torn or bitten off. On top of his head is a dark captain hat.

To the left on the bottom is a vastly lankier dragon, a hybrid icewing/sand wing based on Captain Amelia. Her face is angular and her wings are folded at her sides, showing the frill that follows along her spine, coupled with small quilts at her neck and the end of her tail. She has a large captains hat in comparison to her head, which has a golden hem.

The bottom right is an almost bland-looking mudwing who is dwarfed in comparison to the first. he is based on Dr. Delbert Doppler. His stance is less wide than Silver’s, his wings held semi upright as well though the ends are more tilted downward and closer to his body. Round glasses sit on his blocky snout, and he has rounded spikes that almost resemble sideburns. he has more back spines than Silver, and they gather and grow larger near the end of his tail. He has ears that are round and curled halfway similar to his referenced character.

:END ID]

[sleepymarimo]

𝕤𝕚𝕥. 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕪. 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖!

read cw! summary: he thinks you'd make a pretty puppy pairing: zoro x afab!reader cw: mdni, established relationship, shibari, drunk sex, light pet (puppy) play, wakamezake (drinking alcohol from partner's body), some praise and degradation, light spit kink?, a little humiliation, creampie regarding shibari, this is the specifc tie used (sfw, on a model!) an: ohhh my goodness i loved writing this. may have awakened something... also man!!! i keep saying i'll make them shorter but i just lose track. wc: 2.5k for kinktober '23!

the whole collar thing started as a joke at first. an innocent dare bloomed from an alcohol powered girl's night.

a simple, black leather band adorned with a gold tag and brandishing the initials 'RZ'.

he'd rolled his eye when he first saw it, clicking his tongue with annoyance and poorly hidden satisfaction while he rolled the tag between his calloused fingers. "s'you're my bitch then? that it?"

it was your turn to click your tongue, then you gave a soft huff. "nuh uh, i'm a good girl."

something flashes in his eyes and he smirks, giving a brief grunt in acknowledgement. it's the start of a new dynamic, one that he'd come to revel in.

which brings you to now.

opening the hatch to the observation room, you were met with the sight and scent of booze. there's a soft clinking sound in the air as well, light and playing a familiar chime that sent a chill down your spine.

zoro leans against the wall, his gaze steady and set on you. the smirk he wears is predatory, laced with anticipation and excitement- this has been on his mind for a while.

you can't tell how many bottles he'd had, but judging by the way he let some of it dribble down his chin while he kept eye contact with you, you'd say it was a decent amount.

and that oh so sweet chime?

in his free hand, he twirls your collar on his index finger. it hula-hoops around his digit, the tag clinking and occasionally giving off a pretty flash as the cool metal was hit by the moonlight. 

his voice cuts through the heavy air, dark and rich and dripping with authority.

"oi, puppy dog." he nods his head in the direction of an open workout bench, where a coil of jade colored silk rope taunts you in the most tantalizing way. "sit."

you're stripped of your clothes and sat on the bench before he has a chance to draw in a breath. he utters a quick 'good girl' from his sake slick lips, which are curved into a smirk.

another swig and a few steps, then he's in front of you. he tosses the empty bottle and it lands somewhere with a thud, his hands fumbling with the clasp of the collar before he places it snugly around your neck.

his fingers trace over the gold tag, a low hum of approval rumbling in his chest.

then his focus gets turned towards the ropes. he looks at you for a second before winding it around  your body. he's on a mission, his face hardened. the swordsman takes his time, dedicating himself to the sinfulness of this delicate craft.

you're surprised at how well he ties you up, the smooth silk of the ropes making goosebumps rise on your skin. his touch lingers, never really leaving your flesh as he wraps the rope around you in an intricate design that makes you wonder where he learned such a thing. luckily, you find that you don't have much time to think about it.

your hands are already bound behind your back when he runs the rope around your inner thigh, making you squirm.

he briefly stills, his tone is commanding and sharp, almost a growl. "stay." he emphasizes his point by pulling on the rope until it dug into your soft skin. "got it?"

"okay." you whimper, the light chime of your tag ringing in the air. heat rushes to your cheeks as he finishes his ties, taking a few steps back and admiring his work.

your first instinct is to test the strength of the ropes, your arms and shoulders wriggling under the soft material in a hopefully discreet manner. however, the swordsman's gaze in inescapable. even your small squirms catch his attention, his arms crossing over his chest as he tilted his head.

he just radiates smugness, the corner of his lips quirking into a barely noticeable smirk.

what a pretty fuckin' picture...

"y'gotta stay real still f'me, puppy." he warns with a stern expression, retrieving yet another bottle of sake. "be a good girl."

the bottle clinks as he places it beside the workout bench, mischief dancing in his onyx eyes. he peels off his shirt, his scar laden physique presented to you in its full glory. your arms struggle against the silk ropes, against the urge to trace your fingers over every contour of his chest and shoulders.

he notices and can't stop himself from giving you a cocky smile, deciding to push you further by stepping closer until you were eye level with his barrel of a chest. "y'look like you're gonna start slobberin', puppy dog." he chides, clearly satisfied.

one of his large hands picks up the bottle and his teeth dig into the cork, while his free hand cups your chin with an aggressive tenderness that only he was capable of. with a single tug he pops the sake open, spitting the soft wooden stopper onto the floor.

he licks his lips, a ritual of sorts, before starting to fill his mouth with his precious booze. his thumb starts to stroke your cheek, an unspoken command in itself. open up.

the swordsman wasn't wrong to say that you were practically slobbering for him. you tilt your head back and open your mouth with a silent 'ah', your pink tongue glistening and ready for him.

his head turns and then he's looming over you. the floral and fruity notes of the sake hit your tastebuds as he slowly spits it into your waiting mouth, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. he makes sure to keep his gazed fixed on you, hand applying some pressure on your jaw when you dared to look away.

when it's all done and you swallow, he makes sure to close the gap between the two of you.

his tongue caresses yours, sloppy and messy from how much he'd been drinking as he relishes the combined taste of the sake and your saliva. it's commanding and alluring, the sound of the rolling waves seeming to be outdone by the soft and wet sounds of your lips against his.

then it's over as he rises to his full height, a glint of predaciousness flashing in his eyes.

you can only follow his gaze as he kneels before you, able to get a good look at your bound form. one of his hands, rough and warm, kneads the flesh of your outer thigh. "need ya to keep 'em shut." he gruffly orders.

doing just that, you obediently squish your thighs together and look at him expectantly. something swells in his chest at the sight of your puppy dog eyes, so eager to please him. well wasn't he just the luckiest damn swordsman? he rewards you with a grin and pleased growl.

he raises the bottle up until it's just over your shoulder, before he starts to pour it down your body.

a waterfall of sake cascades down your skin, trickling downward and making you glisten in the moonlight. the ropes darken to a deep, rich forest green as they soak up some of the alcohol. against the hot air, the sake feels cool against your flesh and your head tilts back, jaw falling open with a light gasp.

then he starts drinking.

his lips are on you, starting on your neck before lapping all the way down your torso. he inhales sharply, shifting between lewd slurps and broad strokes of his tongue. the bitter sake was oh so perfect against your sweet skin. you were positive that if he had a tail, it would be wagging.

sake and saliva coat your bound form. warm and wet and sticky. you keep your pretty thighs closed how he had told you to- like he'd commanded you to. "atta girl." he praises, licking a trail from your collarbone to your sake slick tits.

his hot tongue circles one of your nipples, slurping at a few drops that had drippled there. he sucks at your hardened nub, making sure to sip at the sake that attempted to dribble past him.

meanwhile, his free hand traces the edges of the silk ropes, teasingly tugging on them. he fucking loves this. the power, the sake, and you.

he's drunk enough to not care about the low groans spilling past his lips, your skin buzzing with anticipation.

you shiver at the sensation of his tongue swirling around your sensitive peak, writhing slightly against the silk ropes which were now soaked with booze. "zo'..."

he growls, his teeth grazing your nipple before he reminds you of his earlier command, tone containing an underlying current of warning. "oi. stay."

once the bottle runs dry, once there's nothing left for him to lap at, he pulls back and rolls his shoulders. he tosses the glass somewhere a bit too harshly, not giving a shit about how it shatters against the wooden floor. he kneels down a bit further and runs his hands along your outer thighs again.

when you look down, you see exactly why he decided to use you as a human fountain.

the sake he couldn't lick up ends up pooling at the apex of your thighs, a lake of liquor that he plans on drinking dry.

he dives right in, head between your thighs as his hands roughly pushed them shut. his tongue laps away at the sake, before he starts guzzling it down. the sounds are absolutely lewd- wet and raw and hungry.

it takes a while before he slurps it all, his lips and chin coated with booze. even when you're sure that there's none left, he still licks at the meat of your thighs. a few bites and kisses, then he's looking up at you with dilated pupils.

for a second, his expression is unreadable. then, like a flipping switch, he gets to it.

before you know it you're roughly pushed back onto the workout bench, your legs spread open as he licks a stripe up your cunt with the flat of his tongue, intent on catching any lingering drops of sake. he leaves a sloppy kiss on your clit as his hands busy themselves with tugging off his trousers.

you barely have time to gasp when he spits a sticky glob of drool right onto your entrance and hooks your thighs over his, sliding his cock inside you with one thrust. his name tumbles past your lips like a prayer, low and rough.

your arms struggle against the silk bindings and you can only moan and whimper as he pistons into you like a beast in heat, the squelch of your cunt vulgarly echoing throughout the observation room. "good fuckin' girl, puppy." he bites back a groan, his chest rumbling. "fuck..."

he shifts between short, hard strokes, to full and teasing ones, occasionally impaling you on his cock and grinding his hips against yours to make you feel extra full. his uncoordinated and harsh movements are a testament to the amount of alcohol lingering in his veins.

regardless, his cock manages to hit you in all the right places.

it isn't long before a delightful pressure begins to bloom in your lower tummy. your muscles tense and relax, out of your control as you try your best to get in a full breath of air. your collar suddenly feels tighter, your chest trembling as you fall into a downward spiral.

you weakly call his name and he gives a rough "hm?" in response, too entranced by your slopping wet cunt to stop bucking into you.

"m'been good!" you mewl, wishing you could wrap your arms around him. "i want my treat!"

his efforts double, a smirk quirking at the corner of his lips. with a darkening gaze, he leans over you and drunkenly assesses every detail of your sweet face.

"oh yeah? you want your treat? needy little bitch, ain't cha?" he all but growls, cupping your ass and forcing you to meet his thrusts. your words are babbled as your hips are lifted off of the bench, and his expression shifts to one of sadistic amusement. "huh? you gonna bark f'me, puppy?"

you only whimper, panting as you await your impending orgasm. but he’s mean. he’s so damn mean and you can’t say it doesn’t make you pulse around him.

he halts his movements, going still inside you. “c’mon, puppy dog.” his grip tightens, not even allowing you to grind against him. “speak.”

oh fuck him.

you swallow and feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment, but your need to cream all over his hard cock far outweighed any pride you had remaining in your system. swollen, drool slick lips part and your eyes screw shut.

then you bark.

you give a few shaky, high pitched woofs and feel your dignity flying out the window. the bastard draws it out, more than content with the scene before him. you're such a good and obedient puppy dog... man's best fucktoy, if he said so himself.

he relents, then you feel yourself getting pounded into so hard it takes your breath away.

your yapping quickly turns into moaning, sharp pants and whines as you feel the ropes of pleasure squeezing you tighter and tighter.

"good girl." he coos in a light tone, mocking you with glee. zoro brings a hand up to your tummy, giving his good little puppy a belly rub before pushing down on your navel and dishing out his last command. "cum."

your pussy clamps down on him, milking him for everything he's worth. you can't even squirm, the silk ropes feeling more like a prison as you struggled against them in a mindless haze. breaths are harder to take, coming in quickly and erratically while tears dotted your lashes.

in the midst of it all, your pretty little dog tag clinks and clinks, acting as a humiliating reminder of how much his teasing turned you on.

the swordsman throws his head back, feeling the muscles of his abdomen starting to twitch. he picks up his pace and his mind goes blank at how deliciously you're squeezing him. the alcohol makes him slightly sluggish as he leans forward and attempts to drive himself even deeper into you.

after a few more growled curses, he shoots three heavy shots of his cum into your cunt, filling you to the brim.

the room is still for a while, the two of you panting heavily and catching yourselves as the scent of sex and sake thickly swirl in the air. he licks his canines before looking down on you, continuing to gently rub your tummy. "y'really lookin' like a dog now, princess."

coming down from your high, you click your tongue and ignore the rush of heat flooding into your cheeks as he continues to snicker and release you from the confines of the ropes. "m'not a bitch..." you mumble defiantly, hoping to regain some of your pride.

he grins at your displeasure, at how he can so easily pull a reaction from you, before hooking an arm around your waist and pressing you into his side. his free hand reaches for yet another sake bottle, his teasing and cocky words mumbled into the glass. "guess i'm in the doghouse, huh?"

taglist: @queen-of-elves, @who-the-hockeysticks, @sxhy-town, @flower-hua

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable, Part 6-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: Sorry it's a little late but it took me forever to get the pace right and I didn't re-watch the episode so it's all from memory. Thanks for all the love!

Warnings: Hints to sensuality, swearing, body image issues, self-esteem issues, allusions to homophobia.

Words: 7.8k

Taglist: @badbishsblog , @kasslucilfer, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog

Series Masterlist

The only sounds that filled the room were the rustling of clothes as we all got dressed in our respective areas. While I was slipping on my gold hoops, I could not shake the feeling that something was off, kind of like in a horror movie where the main family is weird, but they haven’t done anything to justify suspicion. Every time I tried to remember something, it made my temples throb.

My stomach churned at the fact that I couldn’t remember anything, and my thoughts were all jumbled up. Did Marie or Jordan remember anything? The thought of asking them made me gulp and I fingered the dark-wash jeans in my lap.

They’ll think I can’t handle my liquor or that I always black out, I mused bitterly.

“I think this is yours.” Jordan’s voice nearly made me jump but I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized she was talking to Marie.

Marie glanced over at her and muttered her thanks once Jordan tossed her a bra. I faced the front again, unfolded my jeans, and gasped.

“What is it?” Marie asked.

I gulped. “Um, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Jordan commented.

How did she sound so casual?

No, I couldn’t say it, it was way too embarrassing. These jeans were no ordinary dark wash mid-rise pair; they fit my hips like a glove, made my legs ten percent longer, and my butt twenty percent perkier. When I found them on a shopping trip with Coco, we dubbed them the Look At Me jeans and they never failed to garner attention. So, I could only wear them when I really wanted to feel good about myself and I wondered what possessed me to wear them last night.  

“Seriously, it’s fine,” I tried to assure them as I started pulling the fitted denim over my legs.

The process was going well until I reached my upper thighs and they refused to go higher. I huffed, flopping back onto the bed, sucking my stomach as far as possible, and tugging on the belt loops.

After some strategic shimmying, they finally slid up just below my belly button and I zipped them up triumphantly. Every time I wore them, I forgot how hard it was to get in and out of them.

How had I gotten out of them last night?

The thought made my face burn, and I snatched my royal purple halter top from the floor. As I slipped it over my head, I could not stop my thoughts from wandering as to how we even ended up here. For one thing, Marie and Jordan couldn’t stand each other and I was always trying to play the mediator between them. Again, how did that turn into…this? When did they stop hating each other?

This whole situation felt the same as when I was trying to think of a word, and it was on the tip of my tongue. But no matter how much I thought, the word never came to me. I had a feeling they somehow made up and the thought of them making up made me hopeful and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Even if they did makeup, why was I involved?

I tugged the top down and the buttery soft material stopped at the middle of my ribs. Then, I swept my braids to one shoulder and grabbed the thick straps to tie it. Despite the numerous times I wore this top, my fingers kept fumbling with the material. I huffed as I willed my fingers to cooperate and hoped that no one noticed my struggling.

After a few seconds of trying, a soft, warm pair of fingers brushed up against mine.

“Here, let me help you,” Marie offered.

All I could do was nod and my hands fell into my lap. Every time Marie’s hands grazed the back of my neck, tingles ran up and down my spine.

Stop it, Y/N, my mind hissed at me.

Hopefully, she thought I was shivering.

“Done,” she softly announced.

“Thanks,” I replied, fastening my strappy black Gianvito Rossi pumps.

Once she got back to her side of the bed, she commented, “I didn’t know you had a tattoo there.”

I slapped one of my hands on the back of my neck and stood. “Huh?”

Jordan whistled. “Freshie has ink? Let me see.”

She crossed over to the front of the bed and started pulling at my hand as I tried to back away.

“Jordan, stop, it’s not even that impressive,” I whined.

“Just one little peek, I won’t untie it,” they promised. “Besides, it’s unfair if only Marie got to see.”

Jordan made a good point and I reluctantly turned around and twisted my braids up on top of my head. I shivered when Jordan gently lifted the straps and almost collapsed when their warm breath brushed my skin.

“It looks…nice,” Jordan admitted. “When did you get it?”

“Over the summer, when my dad went to Thailand for a business trip, I went with him and found this cool tattoo parlor near where he was shooting. One night, I stopped by and told the artist I wanted something pretty but hard to find,” I explained.

When Jordan let go of the top, I faced her for the first time. She kind of looked like a puppy, very innocent and hopeful. I never saw that expression on their face before and wondered what it meant.

“Um, this might sound kind of bad but, I don’t remember anything from last night,” Marie admitted.

I whirled around to her. “Me either!” “I didn’t want to say anything but, yeah,” Jordan agreed.

“So, we all blacked out?” Marie asked.

“Maybe; I wonder if anyone else remembers anything,” I mentioned. “By the way, where’s my phone?”

“Oh.” Marie grabbed something from the floor and handed it to me. “Here.”

I tried to turn it on, but the screen was black. “It’s dead, my phone’s never dead.”

“Really?” Marie asked.

I nodded and shoved my phone into my back pocket. “I like to be able to leave when I want or reach anyone I lose while I’m out.”

“Or post about it anywhere,” Jordan added.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s always saying how important it is to maintain a following,” I defended, but my tone was not as light as I meant.

“I’m just saying that this whole thing is weird. I never blackout no matter what,” Jordan insisted.

“Did we all get drugged or something?” Marie pondered.

“Why would someone drug all three of us just for us to…” I glanced at the bed.

“So, we did…” Marie trailed off and I glanced up at her, noting her soft smile at Jordan.

I didn’t need to look at Jordan to know she had a similar expression on her face, but it didn’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach. No, I needed that feeling because whatever happened last night was a mistake. They obviously had something going on and I didn’t need to be in the middle. But why did the way they looked at each other make me feel light and miserable?

 The tension in the air was thick and I needed to breathe.

Then, a dull ache panged behind my eyes, and I winced as I cupped my forehead with my hand. “I need coffee, water, a shower, and eggs; not necessarily in that order.”

A few moments later, I was sandwiched between Marie and Jordan, in their masculine form, on a couch in Dusty’s backyard. The Vought Water that ran down my throat was so refreshing that I almost cried. It was cool outside even though the sun was high in the sky. I should have felt cold, but Jordan and Marie were both radiators.

Cate and Andre sat on a couch across from us, both looking a mix of concerned and awkward.

“So, do you guys remember anything from last night?” Jordan asked.

Andre shook his head. “I don’t even know how we got to Dusty’s.”

“It looked like a great party, though,” Cate commented, glancing around at all the discarded beer and liquor bottles scattered through the yard and all the vandalism around Dusty’s house.

“Has anyone checked socials?” I asked.

“You haven’t?” Andre asked, eyebrows raised.

I shook my head. “My phone’s dead.”

Cate handed me hers and I immediately went onto TikTok. Her For You page was flooded with videos from last night. Apparently, Emma had been in her giant form, chugging beers at the pool for a while. Then, there was one of Coco and me doing our “Sweetest Pie” dance in the middle of a dance circle. The next one was Cate cheering Andre on as he did a keg stand.

Then, there was one of Cate, Andre, Jordan, Marie, Coco, and me playing an intense game of flip cup, featuring Coco roasting Andre. Finally, there was one of me and Jordan making out in the middle of the dancefloor. My face burned as I watched myself grab at them desperately and their hands roamed all over me. My finger slipped to the next video where I was now between Jordan and Marie, grinding on the former while the latter stuck her tongue down my throat. Towards the end of the video, Jordan pushed some of my braids to the side and started nibbling on my neck.

My hand subconsciously wandered to the bite marks on my neck.  

“Whoa,” Marie whispered.

Jordan drank some more water, and I returned the phone to Cate.

“You three make a great throuple,” Andre encouraged.

“Shut up,” Jordan admonished.

I flinched at his tone and turned away.

“Okay, so, a lot happened last night and none of us remember,” Marie began, “what’s the last thing anyone remembers?”

Everyone paused for a moment.

“I remember walking out on the Tek Knight interview because I was upset with my dad but…I don’t know why,” Andre said.

“I remember the Tek Knight interview too and…it feels like something else happened but, I can’t remember,” Jordan agreed.

Cate nodded and I admitted that I could hardly think and couldn’t remember anything.

“It’s like someone put us through a time loop or something,” Marie commented.

Jordan perked up at that. “Do any of you know what day it is?”

“Friday,” Cate said with a shrug.

“Thursday?” Andre guessed.

“It’s Saturday; we’ve lost two days!” Jordan exclaimed.

I sipped some more water and nodded. “It’s like the Lotus Casino from Percy Jackson.”

At that, all their eyes were on me, and I shrank back a little.

“What? They’re good books.”

“It’s a little random, Y/N,” Andre pointed out.

“Well, it’s an accurate observation. In the book, people are trapped in the casino because it’s so great, but they don’t realize how much time has passed. Some people were there for years.”

“Anyway, do you think you can see what might have happened?” Marie asked.

I shook my head. “No matter how I think about it, I can’t look into the past.”

Cate suddenly looked somber as she glanced at her phone. “Well, I think I might have an idea who might’ve done this. Look who was at the party last night.”

She held her phone out for all of us to see. On it was a video of some Phi Epsilon guys playing beer pong. One of those Phi Epsilon brothers was Rufus. My stomach sunk at his smug image.

“Shit,” Andre muttered.

“But why would he do anything to us after Marie---” Jordan cut himself off and glanced at her.

“After Marie what?” Cate asked.

Once Marie explained what happened, Cate and Andre seemed stunned, but Andre immediately smiled.

“Now, that’s badass,” he complimented.

Marie smiled. “Thanks.”

“And it could be a reason for him to get revenge,” Cate observed.

“But why would he go after all of us if that’s the case?” I wondered.

Cate pursed her lips. “Well, drugging someone wouldn’t be something out of character for him.”

That’s when Cate shared everything that happened between her and Rufus last year. By the end, Andre and Jordan looked prepared to beat Rufus’ face in while Marie and I comforted Cate.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” I expressed.

“Did you ever report it?” Marie asked.

Cate shook her head. “Like anyone would’ve believed me. Besides, I felt so ashamed that I wanted to pretend it never happened.”

“We can’t let him get away with this,” Jordan argued.

“And what should we do besides beat what’s left of his ass?” Andre questioned.

“We can get him to admit what he did to Cate and us,” Marie offered.

“How?” I asked.

Jordan smirked. “I can come up with a few ways.”

Despite the new resolve in the group, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Besides all the warring feelings inside and the swarm of thoughts in my head, I had this gnawing feeling that we were missing something.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Marie asked, slowly setting a hand on my knee.

Immediately, I jumped. “Um, nothing, it’s just…I feel like we were doing something important.”

“We’re about to nail a psycho, that’s pretty important,” Andre said.

I shook my head. “No, something else…something before all this.”

Jordan nodded. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

Something was off in their tone that time but I couldn’t take too long to think about it. Seconds later, Coco marched up to us in a pair of white pumps. Her curls were piled on top of her head and her silver House of CB corset top and jeans highlighted her deep skin.

“There you are! I’ve been texting you for the last five minutes!” she huffed.

“Sorry, Coco, my phone’s dead,” I apologized.

Her eyes widened and then she blinked. “What? Never mind, we have to go, the initiate brunch is today.”

“Oh, right, I totally forgot.”

I slipped from under Marie’s hand and sauntered over to Coco. Even though she looked a little panicked and prepared to chew my ear off, she couldn’t have come at a better time.

Jordan stood. “Y/N, what about Rufus?”

He frowned at me, and I had to force myself not to react to his use of my real name.

“I’m sorry, I have to go to the initiate brunch but text me if you need anything,” I rushed.

“And shouldn’t we talk?” Marie added.

Coco’s slim but firm hand wrapped around my wrist, and she started tugging me away.

“We’ll talk later!” I called over my shoulder.

After a few minutes of walking, Coco turned to me and let go of my wrist.

“So, the Look At Me jeans worked,” she commented.

My eyes widened and I faced her. “You talked me into them?”

She frowned. “I don’t know if I would say that but, I helped you make the decision. Did you do too much last night?”

“No…maybe, I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Well, from what I remember, you did let loose, which you deserved, but I wasn’t with you the whole time…obviously.” Coco smiled as we continued walking. “Like I said, based on all those bite marks, they worked like a charm.”

I covered my neck and huffed. “Yeah, they did.”

“Okay, what’s up? You should be annoyingly happy but you look just like you did right before you gave a thirty-minute presentation in Brink’s class.”

The words were right on my tongue, but I couldn’t let them roll off. Coco and I were friends but, we weren’t as close as I was with Emma or Cate. I couldn’t tell her why I reacted every time Jordan or Marie grazed me or why I could barely look at either of them. No, it was way too much for our friendship.

“I just…I feel weird not remembering anything,” I explained. “Why were we at Dusty’s anyway?”

Coco raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t remember? We were all out celebrating our new initiates. We went to Alpha Tau first, then Whiskey Around because Lydia wanted their paloma, and then we ended up at Dusty’s.”

“Did the initiates come with us?” I asked.

“A few did but most of them were done by the time we went to Whiskey Around and Lydia got them rides back to their dorms.” Coco linked our arms together. “Come on, maybe some coffee and food will kickstart your brain.”

Neither ended up helping and for the first time, I wasn’t interested in what anyone was saying in the well-lit dining room table. As was customary, everyone wore breezy pastel or white dresses as servers occasionally refilled glassware and replaced empty dishes on the table. All I could think of was that video and how I was positive everyone at the table had seen it. That video had thousands of views and it was impossible that none of them had seen it.

Behind all their wide smiles and compliments on my blush pink knit Prada skirt set were fangs and vile words ready to be spewed. Sure, they were gushing with some initiates and sharing fun stories from years past, but it was only time before anyone confronted me on it.

“Y/N?”

I blinked and turned to see a pretty girl with chestnut skin and auburn Marley twists tied into a bun looking at me expectantly. “Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that your dancing is amazing. I mean, I knew it was when you and Coco taught Tiana, Erica, and me the ‘Fly Girl’ dance but you were something else at that party.” Her voice had a hint of a southern twang and her eyes seemed to sparkle.

“Thanks,” I said, sipping some more coffee.

She was one of the three black girls who was accepted into Si Chi. Once my phone charged, I immediately went on #RushTok and saw that the girls Coco and I pushed for were accepted. The one sitting next to me was Naomi Banks, a crim major from New Orleans.  Erica Tyler and Tiana Wilkes, a Hero Management and Counting major respectively, were seated across from us near Coco. Out of all our pledges, they had some of the most impressive applications and I had a feeling that I had to stop Coco from skewering Sasha with her arguments.

Plus, I found a video one of Justine’s friends made that featured her gobsmacked expression at her rejection letter on Bid Day. The face nearly made me tremble with glee.

At least a couple of good things happened during the haze.

Naomi tapped my shoulder. “It’s no wonder those two were all over you.”

I almost coughed on the coffee and covered my mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized.

I shook my head and set the porcelain cup down. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. In the future, be careful about mentioning anything from a night out with any of your new sisters.”

Naomi nodded and took a bite out of a piece of bacon. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem. Did you enjoy last night?”

“Yes! I got to get to know so many of the girls here and everyone seems really nice.” Naomi leaned closer to me. “Liliana over there said that Vince from Sigma Kappa asked her for my Snap. He’s pretty cute for a white boy.”

“Sigma Kappa is a top house and Vince is one of the more eligible ones.”

“That’s good. Obviously, I won’t go after him if you or anyone else is interested.”

I smiled at her. “I appreciate it, Naomi, but I think you’re good.”

“Oh, and were you serious when you said you’d help me with my Intro to Forensics class?”

“Of course, a Si Chi girl always helps a sister in need.”

Naomi sighed. “That’s great; the TA’s a real dick, no offense.”

“None taken.”

I covered my laugh by shoving another forkful of French toast in my mouth. The sugary morsel was almost enough to lift my spirits. In Naomi’s defense, Jordan was the toughest out of all the crim TAs to the point they were borderline sadistic.

“Jordan’s tough but, they’re insanely passionate and dedicated to their work. So, they expect everyone to be at their standard,” I explained.

“So, they were like that even when you had them?” Naomi asked.

I nodded. “They terrified me in both forms but, they were okay once I got to know them.”

“I don’t know if I want to get to know them; I just want to pass.”

“It’s okay, I’ll help you.”

Then, I started wondering how the Rufus investigation was going. Since I left Dusty’s, Cate was the only one to reach out, asking to check in. It was a little weird how I got antsy that it wasn’t Jordan or Marie especially when I had no idea what to say to them.

Sydney tapped a fork against a champagne flute, jerking me from my thoughts. She stood at the head of the table, wearing a lavender mini Chanel tweed set. Her hair was in a half updo and she stood with perfect posture.

“First, I would like to welcome all of our new initiates to Si Chi,” she chimed.

She allowed for about ten seconds of applause.

“It is an honor to have found such great women to continue the legacy of this house. When I first came here, I was petrified of not being able to meet any of the house standards. Then, I met my mentor, Isabel Perkins, and she helped me see that we don’t meet these standards on our own----we meet them with our sisters.”

That time, she allowed for fifteen seconds of applause.

“That’s why I hope that you will connect with all of your big sisters since all of them are still here because they continue to maintain the good name of our house, which brings me to the second thing I wanted to discuss.” Sydney paused. “Obviously, we are all glad that we found a match in our new sisters but know that your place here is not permanent. We Si Chi girls hold ourselves to high standards academically and socially and if there is a concern that one of our sisters, new or returning, does not meet those standards, we cannot guarantee her place in our house.”

I swallowed thickly at her words and wondered if she was piercing me with her gaze.

“That being said, this is a place of sisterhood and a safe place for all women and myself and the rest of leadership work diligently to keep it that way,” She continued. “Will the leadership team stand?”

With that, Lydia, Sasha, Alina, and I stood from our seats. For the first time, I felt like I was under a microscope in the Si Chi house and wished everyone stopped looking at me.

“These girls, no, these women are the ones I have entrusted to help continue this house and select our new sisters. Please feel free to say hi to them whenever you see them or let them know if you have any concerns,” she announced.

During that round of applause, my phone started buzzing on my chair. I tried to discreetly grab it but hesitated when I saw Jordan’s name on the caller ID. I quickly silenced it and smiled at the crowd of girls looking at me.

Then, the phone started buzzing again and I rejected it again.

“Looks important, Y/N,” Sasha mouthed.

I hoped I hid my glare with my grin well enough and when I sat down, the phone went off again. I huffed, snatched it, and hurried into the nearest hallway, muttering my apologies as I went. Of course, it was a video call and when I answered, Jordan’s face filled the screen.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Where the hell have you been?” Jordan demanded.

I glanced around for onlookers and continued further away from the dining room. “Could you keep it down? I’m still at brunch.”

“Still?” Marie asked in the background.

“Yes.”

“And you couldn’t answer my texts?” Jordan griped.

“I didn’t get anything,” I insisted.

Based on how hard their jaw clenched, I decided not to mention that my phone was on Do Not Disturb. I tried not to think too hard about how they got past it.

“Did you find anything on Rufus?” I asked.

“No, Rufus may have gotten us all to Dusty’s, but he didn’t do anything to our heads,” Jordan admitted.

“And, they’re going to stay away from everyone since Cate still doesn’t want to make the report,” Marie added.

I nodded and started pacing in the hall. Something was off about all this and I still couldn’t tell what it was.

“I know that face, you’re not saying something, freshie,” Jordan called.

Sometimes, I hated how observant they were.

“It’s just…something has felt off about this whole thing. I mean, yes, Rufus is the creep of all creeps but he’s also a moron. He wants things that are quick and easy and getting into all our heads without being noticed takes a lot of planning,” I reasoned.

“You’re right. So, whoever messed with us is smart and didn’t have to make contact with any of us to make us lose our memories,” Marie continued.

“Or if they did have to make contact, it’s someone we’re comfortable with,” Jordan remarked.

At his words, the greatest epiphany hit me. There was only one person in this entire school with that kind of capability and the thought that they did this made the French toast start to rise in my throat. I hoped that I was wrong, and I knew I couldn’t tell my theory to Jordan or Marie; not yet.

“Okay, did you find out anything else?” I asked.

Then, Marie explained the trackers that were implanted in all of us and I frowned.

“Don’t our phones already do that?” I argued.

“You can leave your phone anywhere,” Marie countered.

“Touché. So, how do I get it out of me without causing further damage?”

“Um, you can come by my dorm, or I can come by the house and get rid of it for you.”

“I can stop by yours. I want to catch up with Emma anyway, give me, like, an hour or two.”

“Sure.”

I was about to hang up when Jordan stopped me and seemed to step away from Marie for a second.

“Look, I know this morning was weird and you probably still feel really uncomfortable but, I just wanted to tell you that we’re okay,” he said.

I hesitated. “‘Okay’?”

“Yeah, like, last night doesn’t have to mean anything so, don’t worry about it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s all fine. I have to go.”

When I hung up, everything was blurry, and I leaned against the wall behind me. The tears were warm against my cheeks, and I did nothing to stop them. Last night meant nothing to Jordan and why would it? They’d had plenty of one-night stands and hookups, why would last night be any different? Why would I be any different? Marie probably felt the same and it was stupid to even think that there was some small glimmer of something.

Nothing was better, nothing would help me get back on track.

“Y/N?”

I straightened up at the sound of Sasha’s voice and swiped at my face. “Oh, hi.”

“That didn’t sound too good,” she expressed as she strutted closer to me.

With each step she took, her faux pitiful expression got more and more gleeful. I forced myself to stand as erect as I could.

“I appreciate the concern, Sasha, but it’s none of your business,” I defended.

My voice did not have nearly the bite it needed at the moment but all I wanted to do was get away from her. Even though she was shorter than me, it was like her presence took up the entirety of the hallway.

“Oh, but it is, you actually made it everyone’s business with those videos.”

The last word rolled off her tongue like dice and I thought her tongue poked out a little.

“I didn’t take or post them,” I hissed.

“But you know in this day and age you have to always be on the lookout; every Si Chi girl knows that, Y/N.”

I tried to push past her but she blocked me. “We should be getting back.”

“Oh, but we’re just getting started,” Sasha insisted. “You know, Sydney’s speech about sisters helping each other meet house standards really stuck with me. I’ve always seen you as a little sister, Y/N, one who thinks she knows everything and can’t stop messing up.”

“That’s funny, Sasha, because I thought you were my big sister who always needed my notes to pass any of her classes,” I rushed.

Sasha narrowed her eyes at me. “I think you need help meeting our social standards and I’m more than happy to assist. I know you thought that you were hot shit once you got in with the Top Five but, it sounds like you’re on your way out. Last night, Jordan and that new girl used you and spat you out.”

“Stop it, Sasha,” I whispered.

“I’m telling you the truth. If you’re not careful, there may not be a place for you in Si Chi anymore. I mean, everyone’s seen the videos and I would hate for anyone to feel uncomfortable here.”

She grinned wider than the Cheshire cat and I didn’t know whether I wanted to wipe the grin off her or disappear into a puddle of my tears. I didn’t get to decide as Sydney appeared from the other end of the hallway and made her way over to us.

“What’s going on here?” Sydney asked.

Sasha beamed at Sydney. “I was just telling Y/N how inspired I was about your speech and how I want to continue helping her meet our house standards.”

Sydney glanced at me. “Well, I appreciate your dedication to mentoring a younger sister, but Y/N is one of the brightest women to enter this house. I wish I could stick around and see what she’ll do next year.”

I tried not to gape at her. “Thanks, Sydney.”

“Of course.” Sydney turned to Sasha. “And I know that you understood that I meant what I said about this being a safe space for all women. While we do hold ourselves to a high caliber, we do not shove a sister who struggles. If we did, I can’t imagine what Amber or Hailey would have done if they knew half the things we did freshman year.”

“Y-yes, right,” Sasha sputtered.

“Anyway, we should get back and review the events for next week with the girls,” Sydney instructed.

Sasha nearly sped down the hallway while Sydney and I strolled after her. We didn’t say anything, but I could have burst from the gratitude I had for her.

A couple of hours later, Marie let me into her dorm, and I sulked at the fact that Emma wasn’t there.

“Where’d she go?” I asked.

“She found some clue about some weird dude we ran into after you left with Coco,” Marie commented. “I guess she decided to go after him.”

I nodded, partly infuriated since that sounded like something Emma would do. She could have at least texted me. I was hoping for some sort of buffer between Marie and me.

So, I sat down on Emma’s bed and played with a fluffy yellow pillow. Marie sat down across from me and looked down at her hands.

“Will it hurt?” I asked.

Marie looked up at me. “A little but I’ll try to make it stop as soon as I can.”

I nodded and dryly laughed. “Last night was really wild, huh?”

“Yeah…should we…talk about it?” she asked.

I shrugged and kept picking at the material on the pillow. “Only if you want to.”

“I know this is so weird but, you and Jordan have also been acting weird. They told me that last night was ‘okay’ and that we didn’t have to make it weird but it’s already weird!” she exclaimed.

“They told me the same thing,” I admitted.

“Do you agree with them?”

“Do you?”

“I asked you first.” She barely made eye contact with me and I started playing with the pillow.

“I don’t know…I don’t know how I feel about any of this,” I confessed.

“Do you regret it?” Marie asked.

“I can’t regret something I don’t remember.”

The words landed like a bomb and I wanted to take it all back. Marie flinched at my words and I wanted to make it better.

“I mean I…I think I’d have a better idea if I remembered. But I also think that you and Jordan should talk again,” I tried slowly.

She frowned. “Why?”

“I mean you two are close now and I know something happened earlier but I don’t know what but I feel as though I’m the biggest third wheel in the history of third wheels around you two.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, and I wanted to use my ability to figure out what would be the quickest way out of there.

“You’re not a third wheel,” Marie maintained. “I like it when you’re around and I like it when you’re with me and Jordan.”

“I like being around you too, but we’re friends and it’s only natural.”

Marie paused. “Oh. I mean, I like being friends but, yeah, never mind.”

“What is it?”

Marie shook her head. “Nothing. Let me get that tracker out of you.”

I nodded but I was dying to know what she was going to say. Did I totally mess up? Did I misstep again?

She knelt in front of me and touched my left shoulder. Marie’s brown eyes met mine in a silent question and I nodded. As soon as I did, she slipped my cardigan to the side and brushed her hand up and down my neck and shoulder until she sensed something.

“Found it,” she breathed.

I nodded.

“Just stay still, okay?”

“Okay.”

My knee started bouncing and before I could stop it, Marie placed her free hand on it but stayed focused on my shoulder. She traced her hand across my shoulder, dragging something in her path. Eventually, when she got a few inches away from my neck, something slipped out and I yelped at the sting.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” she questioned.

“No, it just stung,” I insisted as I covered the wound.

Marie held her palm towards me, and I narrowed my eyes at the tiny, bloodied tracker in her grasp. “Now you’re safer.”

“Thanks.”

She slipped a band-aid onto the wound and pulled my cardigan back in place. “How was brunch?”

“Good. We have three new black girls.” “That’s awesome!”

“Yeah. They all better survive Hell Week.”

Marie groaned. “Does that mean you’ll have more to do?”

“Kind of but it’s way easier than Rush Week.”

“Does that mean we’ll be able to hang out more? Class doesn’t count.”

“I hope so, I mean, if you want to.”

“I just told you I like being around you, of course I want to.”

Her smile somehow made me feel better, actually, her smile always did that. When I thought about it, I rarely saw Marie upset or frowning. She was always so bright and shiny, almost like Luke. All I knew was that I didn’t want to take her shine away.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied.

Then, I saw a brief premonition of my prime suspect. They smiled so sadly at me.

“I wish you hadn’t seen that,” they whispered.

When I blinked, Marie’s smile wavered a little.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, I just have to check on something,” I insisted.

“Oh, do you need any help?”

“No, I’ll text you if something comes up. Thanks for getting rid of the tracker!”

Cate’s dorm had the calmest energy out of all my friends. It might have had something to do with all the green accents, from the wallpaper to the various green pillows on her bed. Last year, she got really into color psychology, and I hoped that it worked as I sat across from her on her comfy rug.

“I saw that you got three new black sisters. Congratulations!” she cheered.

“Thanks. They’re all really cool, and I need them to make it through Hell Week,” I joked as well as I could.

She nodded and grabbed her bong from her coffee table. “With you as their big sister, they have hope.” She took a hit and extended it to me.

“No, thanks.”

She frowned. “You’re always open to smoking.”

“I had a couple of Bloody Marys at brunch, and I don’t want to risk crossfading.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but I needed to be as clear-headed as possible for this conversation. Cate’s big blue eyes eyed me for what felt like an eternity, but she shrugged and set the bong in front of her.

“Fair enough,” she conceded. “So, you, Marie, and Jordan, huh?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know…”

Cate’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t know? I saw the three of you together. Even though you were acting awkward as hell around them.”

“Well, I’m still processing everything that happened and the fact that I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s pretty obvious what happened, Y/N.”

Even though her voice had a teasing lilt, it felt like she was spitting in my face.

“I mean, I know what happened, but I hate how I don’t remember any of it. It’s been driving me nuts all day and I could barely focus on the Si Chi brunch.”

Cate straightened up. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to invalidate your experience.”

“And it sucks that this is my experience, you know. I mean, I don’t know how I feel about either of them and then I go and have sex with both of them? What kind of freak am I?”

“You’re not a freak, Y/N, and, you’re going to hate this, but it’s pretty obvious how you feel about both of them.”

 I cut my eyes to Cate. “It doesn’t feel obvious. I’m so confused, and I don’t know how to act around either of them anymore. It used to be easy to mess with Jordan but now I freeze up whenever their name pops up on my phone. And Marie is so nice an-and pretty and funny. Her powers are insane, and it makes sense that Vought scooped her up now.”

“You don’t sound confused to me, Y/N.”

“Really, because I feel confused all over!”

Cate held her hands up and pushed her bong aside. “Okay, that’s fair. You know, we’re doing a project in my advanced psych class about denial, and I’ve found that a lot of people in denial just go around in circles, driving themselves nuts because they won’t admit something.”

But there was nothing for me to admit. I was clear that Jordan and Marie had something going on and I didn’t want to be an interloper. Even though Marie said she liked having me around, I was positive it was just as a friend and to quell any fights between her and Jordan. But, their fighting wouldn’t be an issue anymore.

When I told Cate as much, she huffed. “How are you this smart but this dense?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been flirting with both for the past few weeks. All of you can’t seem to stop talking about the others and they’re both willing to kill for you. You obviously can’t stop thinking about them and I’m sure they’re the same.”

She looked at me as though I should know what she was saying but I felt lost. Then, I started thinking about how Marie’s smile made me feel like melting inside and how I instantly wanted to help her when her schedule got messed up or how I felt warm and fuzzy when Jordan got between me and Chad, and Thad.

“It’s impossible,” I whispered.

“What’s impossible?” Cate asked.

“I…I can’t like two people at the same time. I’m not in middle school anymore!”

“What’s so bad about liking multiple people?”

“Because you’re just supposed to pick one, Cate, everyone else has managed to do that. There’s something wrong with me.” “Hey,” Cate softly grabbed my hands, “there’s nothing wrong with you. If anything, it shows how much love you have to give.”

“That’s so cheesy.”

“But it’s true.” She smiled. “Why are you so afraid to say it?”

I hesitated. “Because then it would be real and if it’s real, that means that I could get hurt, twice.”

Then, Cate pulled me into her arms and slowly rocked. “Everyone’s afraid of being hurt but, it’s a part of life. It may not feel like it but if it does happen, you’ll get over it.”

“I know but, at the same time, I’m so scared. I mean, I didn’t see any of this coming and I see most things coming.”

Cate hummed in reply. The mix of vanilla and weed wafting off of her was enough to make me sleepy.

“Plus, I imagined my first time to be a little more romantic than a drunken night at Dusty’s.”

Cate paused and pushed me so that we were eye to eye. “What?”

I shrunk a little and looked down at my hands. “Please don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not giving you any look.”

“Yes, you are, all pitiful and shocked. Excuse me for having a Cher Horowitz approach to sex.”

Cate relaxed. “I’m sorry, I’m not judging, and I shouldn’t be surprised since you have all those standards.”

“Cate, have you seen how picky I am about shoes?”

“Yes but, I’m shocked it hasn’t come up before.”

I shrugged and picked at my deep purple lounge pants. Cate was not the first person to express that before, but it wasn’t my fault that I was raised to have standards and all the guys I’d been around were uninteresting at best and disgusting at worst.

“I didn’t always look like this,” I muttered. “Emma would probably lie and say that I was always a bombshell or something but it’s not true. I was fine in elementary but middle school was hell; I struggled with my weight, and I was taller than everyone else, and don’t get me started on being the only black girl in class.”

Cate didn’t say anything, and I continued.

“There was this one black boy, Matthew, who made making me miserable his mission. When I would run on the playground, he screamed ‘Earthquake, everyone run!’. Every day, he made sure I knew how ugly and fat I was, and I didn’t need it because my parents, mainly my mom, told me it too. The summer before high school, I was sick of it and started learning all the tricks on how to glow up; skin, hair, makeup, everything.” I sighed. “I did a little better in high school, but no one asked me out and I ended up going to prom with a group of friends, which was fun but I wished that I was one of the girls who received one of those grand promposals. When I got a vision of how great my future was going to be, it gave me hope that Matthew and everyone else was wrong.”

“They are wrong, and Matthew can go suck a dick,” Cate affirmed.

I chuckled. “Anyway, I still get nervous around guys, and the whole being attractive thing is new to me.”

“But you’re comfortable around Jordan and Marie.”

I nodded. “I am but I don’t understand it. I’ve never liked anyone who wasn’t a straight guy before, and I don’t know what any of it means.”

“It means that sexuality is a spectrum, and you lean towards the not straight side. You don’t have to know everything right now, Y/N, and I know it’s easier said than done with you but, life has surprises, and it wouldn’t be fun without them,” Cate encouraged.

“I hate surprises.”

“Well, get used to them.” I smiled but paused. “What if they don’t like me back?”

“I highly doubt that since I’ve seen how they both look at you. Honestly, being around you three can get a little uncomfortable,” she teased. “But, in a world where they reject you, you will always have me, and I will make their lives worse in ways that Matthew wouldn’t even dream of.”

Cate’s tone and smile were earnest, and it made me feel better about ranting. I was stunned that I told her my secret, but I guess she had one of those high trust faces that made anyone want to spill everything. For the first time in a long time, I felt relaxed, like I’d just finished the most intense shiatsu session ever. It was crazy but I felt like I was breathing better than before.

It was crazy what secrets could do to a person.

The thought made me gulp but I grinned at Cate and hugged her again.

“Thanks for listening,” I muttered.

“Of course. Thanks for finally being honest,” she returned.

I tried not to bristle in her grip as I pulled away. We both stood and slowly made our way towards the door.

“So, are you going to go with a grand gesture to tell Jordan and Marie how you feel or are you going to play it cool?” Cate teased.

“I’m not sure,” I started. “I still can’t get over what you said about how they’d kill for me. How could you tell?”

Cate paused. “I mean, they glare at anyone who looks your way in a flirty sense.”

“But that doesn’t mean they’d kill for me.”

“I think you’re overthinking things, Y/N.”

“Maybe.” I stopped in front of her door and faced her. “You know, it’s funny how you said that life’s full of surprises and that I should get used to them. Remember how you thought Rufus messed with our heads?”

“Yeah, because he did,” Cate said slowly.

“Actually, Jordan and Marie already interrogated him, and he probably got us all to Dusty’s but there’s no way he could have wiped all our memories without touching us,” I informed.

“Wow, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah, and Jordan brought up a good point. They said if someone had to touch us to wipe our memories, it would have to be someone we knew and were comfortable with. They’re right but I also know someone who could do it without touching anyone if her gloves are off.”

Cate paled as she listened, and I felt my anger rising from deep within my stomach. “Y/N, I can explain.”

“You can explain how you violated all of us?” I hissed.

“It wasn’t like that, please!”

She reached out to grab my arm and as she grasped it, I realized that she wasn’t wearing her leather gloves. My mouth opened but everything faded to black.

[themisimagines]

labyrinth

content: you and vyn attend a birthday party hosted in his honour but end up doing something rather more fun in a garden labyrinth. wink wink nudge nudge. again inspired by anna karenina (2012) film but also labyrinth (1986). maybe a companion to 'i could sleep inside the cold of you'. some spoilers for episode 10. total porn without plot. characters: vyn x fem!reader warnings: public sex, hunter-prey relationship, breeding kink, minor knife play

On your second last day in Svart, Vyn's father hosts a birthday party for Vyn – all to keep up appearances, of course. His father isn't present, and Vyn dislikes half, if not most of the people there. You've made your way through most of the evening by his side, and finally things have begun to wind down, the guests suitably drunk and starting to do unspeakable things, sure to forget everything by tomorrow. Vyn has told you to keep close – he doesn't trust half the people here, and your kidnap by his uncle is still fresh in the forefront of his mind.

Then the next moment, you find yourself wandering the grounds of a large garden maze, heart beating out of your chest as you run as fast as you can, trying to get to the heart of the labyrinth before you get caught. Every single twitch of the leaves and hedges beside you makes you jump. You've dropped pieces of clothing slowly to make a trail, so you don't get lost. Thank goodness they dressed you like an iced cake – layers upon layers of silk, lace, underskirt, petticoats, gloves, ornaments, brocade, outer layers, inner layers, not to mention the hoops used to prop up the voluminous skirts.

Just as you shed one of your outer layers, exposing your bare skin to the chill night air, a low whistle sounds behind you. Without looking, you decide to run, going further and further into the maze, not caring if you get lost now. But just as you see you've hit a dead end, you turn around, but Vyn is there, blocking the entrance.

Vyn stands in front of you, slowly approaching and twirling a decorative blade between his fingers. Even though you know he would never hurt you, there is a tantalising whisper of fear running up your spine, which is deliciously arousing.

'I found you,' he sing songs softly. In the moonlight, his eyes glint as he gets closer, the most delicious shade of honey gold. You love seeing him like this, like a cat who has gotten the cream, a mischievous boy reliving the childhood he never really got to have.

You consider making a dash for it, but he closes the distance and grips your wrists over your head tightly, breath skimming against your ear and neck as he whispers, 'Don't even try... I've hunted down my prey and I intend on enjoying every single moment...'

He turns you around and secures your wrists to a branch with his abandoned bowtie, manoeuvring expertly around your hooped skirts to run his hands up your bodice and corset, slicing open the corset ribbons and stripping your layers back. Standing there, unable to move, you feel especially vulnerable, feeling the cool metal of the blade just barely grazing your skin. Under his careful unwrapping, you are soon completely naked, bared to the moonlight.

'What a marvellous birthday present,' he whispers against your skin, pressing soft kisses throughout your back. 'Thank you.'

You can hear other people have entered the maze, laughing drunkenly from some distance away. Vyn sees you notice them, and chuckles in a low voice. 'You didn't manage to find the heart of the maze so you're all mine. If I choose to let anyone else watch me fuck you, then you can't do anything about it.'

'Pretty words,' you retort, squirming at the feeling of his gloved hands running over your body, squeezing at your tits, ghosting over your thighs, flicking at your clit. 'I bet if anyone actually dared to come over, you would have their head cut off or something.'

He growls at the thought and bites down hard on your neck, definitely leaving a bruise there. 'You're not wrong.'

Vyn pulls away and you whine at the lack of contact, turning around to see what he's up to, but without any warning, he lines his throbbing cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you, making you cry out in surprise.

The pace he's taking is breathless, cock sliding out fully before slamming into you, setting a desperate pace like he's trying to punish you, forcing small cries from your throat. You are pressed up tightly against the hedge, pain mingling with pleasure, twigs and branches scratching at your delicate skin, feeling like a thousand hands clawing at you, which somehow is a huge turn on.

'That's it,' Vyn purrs. 'Make those beautiful noises for me, darling. I want everyone to hear you.'

You try to bite your tongue just to defy him, but then he grabs your breasts in each hand, forcing you against him and bending your back impossibly as he fucks you fast and hard. Your nipples are in his clever fingers, and he is playing with them in the way that makes you want to scream, because it feels too good, and you are terribly overstimulated from everything. You squirm relentlessly on his cock and you hear him pant shallowly, quietly whispering about how wonderful you are over and over again under his breath, hips thrusting into you endlessly.

You're not content with letting him have his way completely, so you turn your head around to look at his face, which is dark with desire, completely focused on every single sensation as if he's a beast and you're his prey.

'Is that all you've got?' You challenge him.

Upon hearing that, he growls and stops to untie your hands, looking to punish you even further, but the moment you are free you tackle him onto the ground, knocking all the air out of his lungs and mounting him. His face is surprised, but he doesn't resist, and this time it's your turn to pin his arms above his head with his own bowtie as he watches you hungrily, not resisting although you know he could easily break free of your sloppy knots, wanting to see what you do next. It's a strange sight – you are completely nude, having been stripped so thoroughly by Vyn earlier, but he is almost fully clothed. It almost makes you feel like a wild woman who has hunted down her prey and is ready to enjoy the spoils.

You slide down onto his cock, relishing the feeling of fucking outdoors – being fucked from behind always feels so animalistic, but being on top tonight drives you wild, and you lift yourself off his cock and plunge back down, watching Vyn bite his lip and watch you move up and down, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, your thighs burning with exertion. 'Nghh-' you moan, feeling him hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. 'I love watching you like this,' you tease him breathlessly. 'Helpless beneath me, completely at my mercy...' You grind your hips in a circular motion, drawing your lovemaking out.

There are more voices approaching, they seem to be getting closer, but you're quite sure that they aren't about to find you anytime soon. Cries of pleasure ring out from other corners of the maze, other lovers having found secret spots to release their desires. You see Vyn's eyes glint as you tease him, a smile on the corner of his lips, rising to the challenge. He shifts his feet upwards, thighs grazing your buttocks, and you are just about to ask him what kind of tricks he's trying when his hips thrust upwards, sending you bouncing upwards, and seeing stars from how deeply his cock is buried inside you.

'I can hardly let my prey get away with everything,' Vyn bites down, cock ramming into you, leaving you breathless and begging him to slow down.

'Ah - Vyn - Ah - ah - mmmh!' You cry out, as he drives faster and faster, not letting you gather yourself for a single moment, thrusting so hard that you lose your balance and are pressed against him, hands scrabbling for purchase in the soil as he just uses you mercilessly, chasing his own release while pushing you closer and closer off the edge. 'Ready to scream for our audience?' He chuckles in a low voice. A pair of voices comes so close that you swear they are about to turn the corner, and the thought of getting caught is so deliciously tantalising that Vyn just has to thrust a few more times before you come undone around his cock, trying to stifle your cries in his neck, clenching and throbbing so hard that you see flashes at the side of your vision.

Vyn speeds up for his last few thrusts, and he whispers how good you are, how amazing your cunt feels around his cock, about how much he loves you, and surely you have another one in there for him, he wants to feel you come again. He has freed his own hands and one now snakes down to your clit, the other tearing your hand away from your mouth - 'Don't you dare hold back, I want everyone to hear that you're mine.' He rubs your clit as his cock grows and throbs inside your cunt and that pushes you over the edge again, crying out in earnest this time - 'Fuck yes, Vyn - oh!' and Vyn cums with a guttural groan, growling deeply and squeezing his eyes in pleasure.

The voices trail off, giggling to themselves. There is no way that they didn't hear their lovemaking, but also the hedges are so thick that they couldn't possibly have seen who it was. You collapse onto Vyn, and he embraces you in his arms, both of you panting heavily. He gives you his jacket, and drags over the remains of your dress to keep you warm. 'It would be a shame if you caught a cold,' he says. 'I would feel rather responsible.' You giggle against his chest, buried in layers of silk and tulle. You both look up at the sky, watching the stars and feeling so lucky to be in love.

[jules-writes-stories]

Into the Night

A Retelling of Hades & Persephone | Azriel x Eris | Azris Week | Day 7| Equinox

Cast of Characters |

Eris | Persephone Azriel | Hades Lady of Autumn | Demeter Helion | Helios Lucien | Hermes Rhys | Zeus The Archeron Sisters | The Fates Cassian as himself

The first two parts are below. Read the whole story on AO3.

I

Scarlet hair blew across a pale face, like blood on freshly fallen snow. Golden eyes were lights upon dark water, a windy smile. He wanted this fae of Forest and Flame, like nothing he’d ever wanted before. Ours, the shadows whispered.

Each day was the same. Azriel spied on the beautiful male gliding through Autumn’s citrine-ruby forests, watched him slip between stalks of grain and orchards, the scent of stone fruit and loam cloying in the setting sun. 

Somehow the shadows had found their way into this court of hearth and harvest, once in thrall to a wicked Fire Lord, whose wife rose up and took the throne. Now, she ruled as Autumn’s High Lady with her seven sons. And it was the eldest that Azriel desired for his own.

He’d told his brothers, Rhysand, High Lord of Night, and Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed, just how much he needed the prince of Autumn. “Not until the Equinox,” Rhys had insisted. And Azriel was a patient male, a spymaster and a shadowsinger. He could wait for what was his.

Even as the golden cord that bound him to his mate, woven by the Mother herself, dragged at the unruly beast that was his heart. 

II

Today was the Equinox, most High Holy Day in Autumn, and all of Prythian. When Day and Night aligned in perfect balance. It was the one night each year, when the magical boundaries and borders dropped between Prythian’s courts. All fae, High and lesser, Solar and Seasonal, united as one, beneath the Mother’s loving gaze. 

Eris Vanserra, heir of Autumn, prepared for this night of revelry, like any other. He wore green velvet and diaphanous silk that whispered of trysts in moonlit forests. Gold lined his pointed ears, a single hoop in one nostril. 

Warrior, prince, fae of fire—this was his kingdom. And tonight, he would find his pleasure and replenish the land, to give back to its plenty. The prince left for the Forest, his brothers close behind. Fae danced around pyres, in time with distant drumming, already buzzing on wine, the scent of sex, sweet and smoky, in the night. 

Eris felt alive and aroused, in need of something he could not place. Soon. The drumming paused as voices hushed. Crackling bonfires and the breeze in ancient treetops were the only sounds. 

Now.

His magic was rising. It snapped beneath his tongue, itched his palms. Tingled at his fingertips, and down his spine. Until there were full sparks, flames along skin, at the tips of his hair, wreathing his hands. It was life and death and sex, to forget one’s before and after—not to become or have been, but to be.

Now. 

As his magic settled, finally, pulsing through his veins, Eris looked up in awe, ready to receive the Mother’s love. And this was why the fireling was taken so completely off guard. For it was at this very moment, while all of Prythian’s eyes were on the heavens, that Hel’s shadows and darkness came.

 *          *          *

Now. It had to be this very moment. When the wards between their courts were unguarded. Azriel commanded the shadows to bank the bonfires with darkness. Fae cried out as the earth quaked, seeming to cleave open, as the Night Court male landed silently in the darkened Forest. 

The shadowsinger reached out and with strong, scarred hands, pulled the fireling, by his narrow waist, to his chest. Mine. 

The golden thread thrummed with pleasure at the contact, at the scent of embers and rain, of the male in his arms. Amber eyes took in hazel.

 “Who are you?” a voice, breathless, but unafraid, asked in the darkness. 

“I am the singer of shadows. I am yours,” Azriel whispered back, his breath against the skin of the male’s white cheek. And then, before the Autumn fae could panic or react, they were passing through folds of space and time. 

 *          *          *

Eris was lost in the darkness, his only anchor a pair of strong arms, a solid chest, the scent of mist and moonlight on cedar.  He was holding his breath, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Open your eyes,” a low voice rumbled, laced with amusement. The Autumn prince did, and what he saw, left him speechless. He clung to the leathers of a male, built like a warrior, with enormous, bat-like wings, spread against the night sky. And this male’s beauty was heartbreaking. His raven curls were perfectly tousled, as if the wind herself had run long fingers through them. Golden brown skin, high cheekbones, and hazel eyes lined with thick lashes. 

Eris pulled away with a jolt, baring his slightly elongated canines. Flames coiled along his hands. “Take me back to my home.” He growled, with all the authority of an Autumn prince.

But the winged male simply smirked and stared. His eyes moved slowly, starting at Eris’s red hair, the flushed tips of his pointed ears, then shifted with lazy dominance, downwards, lingering at molten eyes, a perfect nose, kissed with faint freckles, to the male’s pink, pouting mouth.

Heat coiled low in the fireling’s belly, at the base of his spine, arousal licking through his veins, even as he grew angry. Who was this male, to look at the heir of Autumn, with such possession? The fae prince bared his teeth again, flames growing hotter.

Hazel eyes, unphased, unhurried, continued to move down the prince’s lithe frame. They took in the long column of a pale neck. Broad, graceful shoulders and a narrow waist. Hips that would feel perfect in his hands. 

And then, the winged male, shrouded in shadows, said, “Eris, you are home.” 

I tagged anyone who asked/expressed interest, but please lmk if you ever want on/off my 🏷️

@c-starstuff-man0, @natashachelsea @chunkypossum, @fieldofdaisiies @jir67 @futurehunt @the-darkestminds @hellolordling @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @brekkershadowsinger @disney-acotar-hp @moonpatroclus @azrisweek @unanswered-stars @theartofmischief @lilah-asteria

[fox-guardian]

Cecil fursona? 👀

He seems like he’d be a possum, or something called a possum that absolutely is not a possum, but honestly anything goes

*CRACKS KNUCKLES* I'M GLAD YOU ASKED, I HAVE A FURSONA ALL PICKED OUT ALREADY ALJSDHAKJDHA

[ID: Two digital drawings of Cecil Palmer as an anthropomorphic indigo and purple cougar on a purple background. His paws, feet, cheeks, and hips have aqua crescent moons on them and the rest of his indigo fur is covered in rainbow stars, and his long tail is run through with rainbow stripes with an aqua and green stinger at the end. His irises are purple with white crescent moons as pupils and aqua sclera, and his paw pads and the inside of his mouth are aqua and green, and his claws are green.

The first image is from the chest up and shows him wearing Night Vale Radio headphones and speaking into a microphone. He is wearing a lilac denim vest with a large purple button with a green weed leaf and white text reading "Keep Night Vale Groovy" in all caps, with "groovy" in a 70s retro font. Under his vest, he's wearing a black t-shirt with "D.A.R.E." written on it in red, and the sleeves are torn off. He is smiling and gesturing with his paw hands.

The second image is full body and shows him standing on one foot with his hip popped out and his paw hands held up near his face with the backs facing the viewers, showing the crescent moons. He is smiling at the viewer with his tongue sticking out. He is wearing a pink and lilac cropped tank-top with an eye-shaped titty window, a short green and white striped ruched skirt, a bright yellow raincoat hanging off his shoulders, gold hoop earrings and a gold chain necklace with a green cactus pendant, and rainbow sequin platform sandals. His tail is curling out beside him. end ID]

~~~~

he is a cougar sparklecritter with khoshekh-like traits, meaning he's got the spine ridges and tendrils and all that jazz (sometimes) and of course, the stinger on the tail. i just think that since i headcanon cecil to be a lil older than carlos, him being a Literal Cougar is very funny to me and also he deserves the garish rainbow delight that is the sparklecritter vibe. i got excited to draw these because i already had them brewing, thank you SO MUCH for requesting this alshdajdha

[lavendermav]

MAROON | Tom Cruise (OS) | M

a/n: hiiii guys this is the first fic i've written ever so it is far from perfect and i have no idea what i'm doing, but thank you for being here!

Summary: You and Tom are getting ready for drinks with McQ, but he has something else in mind.

CW: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENT 18+ ONLY PLEASE | oral (f), fingering, very little plot

WC: 869

As you dug through your suitcase on the dresser, you felt your boyfriend, Tom, creep up behind you. He wrapped his hands around your waist, inhaling the scent of your perfume. “You look incredible tonight, darling,” he whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine. The maroon cocktail dress you wore was practically made for you, how it wrapped perfectly around your hips. “I bought it last week,” you replied while inserting a gold hoop earring into your ear. Tom’s large hands slid down and grazed your smooth thigh. “Baby, what are you doing?” you breathlessly ask as his hand moves inward, eliciting a soft gasp from your mouth.

Tom chuckled as his fingers toyed with the edge of your panties. “We’re supposed to meet McQ and Heather at the bar in twenty minutes,” you whine. His free hand slid up your dress, reaching your breast, his mouth nipping at your earlobe. “We don’t have time for this, Tom,” you whimpered softly. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” He coaxed. His fingers found their way under your lace panties and stroked your slit, causing you to squirm underneath his touch. “You’re very wet for me,” he whispered. You close your eyes as his other hand slips into the top of your dress and rolls his skilled fingers over your nipple. “Can’t we be a little late?” He asked, planting kisses around your neck, nipping at your skin.

Your head rolls back against his chest. “Tom, you should at least text him,” you suggest. Not taking his hand away from your entrance, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket that reads, “McQ, can we push it to 8? Y/N and I are running a little behind”. “Done,” Tom states as he lays his phone on the dresser and pulls you backward until you’re both propped against the California king bed. “You’re seriously going to undo all the work I just did getting ready?” You shake your head and smile. “Turn around,” Tom commands. You do as he says and feel the zipper on the back of your dress slowly slide down. Tom spins you around to face him as the dress pools around your heels, revealing your breasts. “Such a stunning girl,” he whispered as he guided you on the soft sheets, exposing your writhing body.

Your boyfriend hovered over you, his large hands exploring your skin. “Please, I want you!” You beg, watching him tease his fingers through the band of your panties. “Really? Because a few minutes ago, you were rushing us out the door,” Tom teased. “I take it back, Tom,” you writhe underneath him. “Needy, aren’t we?” He smiles as he pulls your panties down your legs, taking them off gently. “You started it,” you reply. Tom, remaining at your legs, offers a dark smirk as he throws the soaked panties aside. He removes his dress shirt, revealing his toned chest. “Don’t want to get that wrinkled,” he smiles. Tom plants one hand on each leg and leans his head down, peppering your thighs with painfully slow kisses.

“Please, baby, more,” you whine. “What do you want, darling?” Tom murmurs as he hums against your thighs. “You, please! Just fuck me!” You shout. Tom’s lips continue upward, reaching the crease of your thighs. “What a good girl, begging for me,” Tom affirmed. Within seconds, you became a moaning, writhing mess under his skilled mouth as he glided his tongue over your dripping core. A gentle moan escapes your lips. “Louder, sweetheart,” he hums against you, his words making you melt. Tom speeds up, delivering quick but thorough licks and sucking your sensitive clit. “Oh, fuck! Tom!” You moan. “That’s my good girl,” Tom affirms, his words sending shockwaves through your body. You tried to close your legs, but Tom would not allow it. “Uh-uh,” he says, locking his eyes on yours, eyes filled with nothing but pure lust. Tom made his way up your body, kissing every inch. Leaving a hand on your soaking core, he circles your clit as his mouth finds your neck. You moan his name, nearly at your breaking point.

Tom kisses up to your ear, teasing it with his teeth. “Does that feel good, angel?” You nod. His finger speeds up, causing you to shake. “Use your words, darling,” he whispers. “Yes, it feels so good when you touch and fuck me like that!” You reply, nails digging into the sheets. Tom sucks at the sweet spot on your neck, just below your earlobe, causing you to erupt all over his skilled fingers. “Fuck, Tom, right there!” You moan as he rubs two fingers up and down your core, guiding you through your orgasm. Tom falls next to you, stroking his hand through your hair. “You did so good, sweetheart,” Tom affirmed as he wiped the smudged mascara under your eyelids. “When we get back from the bar, you’re going to pay for that,” you warned as you came down from your high and pulled yourself together. “Pay for what? Making you cum all over my fingers?” He teased. “Ruining my makeup, Tom,” you chuckled. “I won’t hesitate to do it again.”

The man did love getting the last laugh.

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 5 - Cyvasse

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

While the men are hunting, court is held in the queen's private chambers and there is enough cake and gossip to fuel an entire afternoon.  

The cake, you enjoy, but the gossip is all the same. Suitors. Marriage. Betrothals. It's as though the men never left and, the name which far surpasses all others in its frequency, is Aemond.  

The sound of it seems to prick your ears from every direction and, for a moment, you wonder if he enjoys being the most eligible bachelor at court. Except you already know the answer to that. You've never seen him dance or flirt. In fact, the only time you've ever seen Aemond perform for his gaggle of starry-eyed admirers, is that day on the balcony. And you’re not sure if he did it for their benefit, or if it was just a natural result of arrogance and gloating. 

Laughing to yourself, you decide on the latter before reaching for your second raspberry tart. 

Your mother, however, has other ideas. She slides the plate from your grasp and, if that wasn’t bad enough, she also picks up the embroidery hoop which has been idling on your lap for the past twenty minutes.  

"This will need unplucking... again ,” she scolds, handing it back to you with a pair of scissors and a stern look. 

You refrain from rolling your eyes, looking instead at Maris and Cassandra who have almost finished their handkerchiefs. They never have to unpluck anything!  

Why can’t you be more attentive? It would save you so much time in the long run, and your poor thumb wouldn’t be facing another round of pin pricks. With that in mind, you quietly decide that one wonky cornflower will have to do, no matter how much your mother disapproves. 

Afterall, it's not as though you'll be giving this handkerchief as your favour, since you can’t think of a single person who will ask for it.   

So, instead of wasting more time, you wait until your mother is distracted by something Cassandra has said. Then you slip away, taking your hoop and a spool of thread as though you might continue elsewhere.  

Your real destination is the bookcase on the other side of the room, and it's been calling your name since you first arrived.

The closer you get, the easier you can see the dragons carved into the wood just like they are carved into everything else. The walls, the chairs, the stone fireplace. As though anyone in this room could ever forget you were in the lair of the dragons.  

Reaching the bookshelf, you’re excited to see every inch of space is piled high, and some of the volumes look as though they have never even been touched, their spines smooth and their gold embossed lettering in pristine condition.  

There are no new books in Storms End, and you itch to open one. Wanting to smell the fresh ink on crisp parchment and feel the pages beneath your fingertips. But you don’t. You'd hate to be the one who sullies that perfect leather, and these aren’t just anyone’s books, they’re the Queens. So, you reach for an older book, its cover curled at the edges, its pages stained and wrinkled from countless turns.  

Aegon’s Conquest.  

Flicking through the first few chapters, you wonder if Aemond has read it and curse yourself as soon as the thought enters your mind. Wasn't it enough for his name to be in every conversation? Did he really need to creep into your subconscious too? Though you suppose you couldn’t really blame Aemond for that, he wasn’t even here. Still, blaming him felt infinitely better than blaming yourself.  

Replacing the book back onto the shelf, you turn to the window. From here, you can see a perfect view over Blackwater Bay, and it could remind you of home if it wasn’t for the near constant stream of merchant ships. Most of them are small, with only one sail to propel them through the water. But one is much larger, and you count 15 sails in total as it leaves port, its tiny crew standing on deck. 

You wonder where they're going, who they carry, and just how exciting it would be to sail away to some strange and exotic place like Braavos or Volantis. 

When you can’t make out the people onboard the ship any longer, you turn your attention to the Cyvasse board. You’ve never seen one like this before, its pieces carved from ivory and jade instead of black and white.  

You reach to pick up the green dragon and its heavier than it looks, the stone perfectly smooth and the carving intricately detailed. It almost feels as though it might spark to life in the palm of your hand, which leads you to wonder just how small real dragons are when they’re born.  

You'd never thought much of dragons before but, here , they are everywhere. Carved, embroidered, painted and prowling the halls in black leather.  

Holding the piece closer to the window, the tiny green gems of its eyes glow brightly in the sunlight, and again you’re thinking of Aemond . You’ve never seen what lies beneath the black patch across his scar, but you know it's a gem and wonder of its colour. Green like the tiny dragon in your hand, or blue like his eye.  

Cursing yourself again for not only thinking of Aemond but knowing the precise shade of blue which makes up his eye, you place the dragon back on the board then reach to investigate another piece- 

"Do you play?” A voice startles you, and you glance over your shoulder to see Queen Alicent standing directly behind you. 

“Your Grace,” you gasp, turning to face her and offering a somewhat awkward curtsy.  

What was it about this family which always seemed to catch you by surprise?  

“I said, do you play?” 

“A little.” And not as well as you would like. Cyvasse partners were not frequent in the Hall of Storms End and, if they were, most people didn’t want to play with a girl.  

“Then sit,” she says, gesturing towards the ivory side of the board.  

For a moment, you don’t move. Was this really happening? Were you really going to play Cyvasse with the queen? The whole thing seemed so unlikely to the girl you were a few months ago, yet it was happening just the same.  

You force your legs to move, sitting opposite her but not without casting a weary look towards your family. But its only Maris who seems to notice what is happening and, when you smile, she does not return it. 

“Your sisters seem to have become quite close friends with Helaena,” the Queen says, drawing your attention back to her. 

“The Princess is very kind,” you reply sweetly, thinking your mother would be pleased with your answer. But more pleased to hear you had not gone on to say, ‘unlike your son.’  

The queen doesn’t reply and there’s a comfortable silence as you both arrange your Cyvasse pieces into your preferred starting positions.  

You know it will be your turn first, but you’re not sure what piece to play. You don't want to appear too aggressive or too careful. You want something surprising, thoughtful. Though you suppose none of that really matters, since your only real hope is that she won’t beat you too quickly.  

You move the Light Horse. 

“Are you enjoying your time in Kings Landing?” she asks, contemplating her own move for longer than you would have imagined. 

“It is... everything I expected it to be.” 

“Quite the political answer,” she says, sliding her Rabble two spaces forward.  

Your aunt always played her Rabble in the same way. As a result, your second move is a little quicker and the queens is too. You both play four more turns before there is a longer pause while she considers her options. 

“I noticed you looking at the books, you may borrow one, if you wish,” she says, falling into the trap you’ve been baiting. 

Your heart quickens, excited. “Thank you, your grace,” you say, sliding your Dragon to capture her Elephant.  

For her move, she claims a Trebuchet, and you bite your lip, frustrated by your mistake.  

“A good Cyvasse player must notice everything, ” she says and, maybe she’s talking about the game, but there’s something in her tone which causes you to meet her eye and wonder why she has noticed you .  

The room is filled with other ladies. Ones who crave her company, one’s who she’s known for years and most with stations far higher than yours. Still, you don’t ask her why. You play your next move and, more than thirty moves later, the Queen wins.  

You’re not surprised by her victory. It's been almost a year since your last game, which is a good enough excuse, yet you hate to lose just the same.   

“You play very well but you should practice more,” she says, and you enjoy her praise far more than you’d care to admit.  

"Thank you, your grace but my family does not play,” you reply, knowing instantly that Maris, who has not stopped staring, would hate you for saying this.  

If the queen wanted Cyvasse, then Maris would practice until her fingers bled, even if she despised every moment of the game. 

“Then meet me tomorrow, after breakfast, in the garden.”  

This is not a request, nor does she wait for an answer or even stay in the room. She’s done with court and leaves you and the rest of the ladies to finish the afternoon alone.  

Later, when you should be sleeping, Maris sneaks into your room, sitting at the bottom of your bed with her hair in rags. 

“What did you talk about with the Queen?” she asks, and you know she’s been desperate to ask you this all evening.  

“Nothing really, we just played.” 

“Urgh...” she falls back dramatically on the bed. “I’ve been trying to get her to notice me for weeks and you spend one afternoon with her and-” she sits back up, frowning, “it's not fair!” 

“You try too hard.” 

“Well , you don’t try at all.” 

She wasn’t wrong. If anything, you were trying to stay out of the way. But you supposed aloof was noticeable when everyone wanted centre stage. Perhaps if you were livelier, you’d be less visible. Like you were those first two weeks at court.  

“I envy you,” she says, reaching to brush away the hair which has fallen onto your cheek. “You are the third daughter which is even worse than being the second, but you don’t care. I wish I didn’t care.” 

“Then don’t,” you smile, taking her hands in yours and holding them tightly. “Starting now, no more caring about what anyone thinks.” 

She returns your smile, and you both know that what you’ve said is an impossible task for someone like Maris. She cares about everything and everyone. Still, neither of you say it.  

Instead, you scoot over in the bed and pull back the covers for her to climb in beside you. You haven't slept together like this since you were little girls, but the excitement you feel is just the same. Sometimes you would stay up all night, talking, telling stories and daring each other to sneak down the hall to bang on Septa Orella's door. Maris would never do it, but you could never resist.  

Blowing out the candle, you both snuggle into the quilt, lying face to face, arms tucked under pillows and eyes still not quite heavy enough for sleep.  

“There is one person I care about...” she whispers in the dark. 

“Who?” 

“Aemond, of course,” she says as if this is common knowledge, yet it is not common to you. 

"You don’t even know him,” you say, hating the tone in your voice. So judgemental, so accusatory.  

“What is there to know?” 

What is there to know about a man you care for? You scoff, its times like these when you realise just how different you are from her. 

“How about his manner? His interests? His passions?” Or the way he might mercilessly tease a person for the rest of their life. Which leads you to the terrible realisation that, if Maris marries Aemond, then you will never be rid of him.  

“You are quite the secret romantic,” she says, laughing softly. "Ladies do not marry men for their interests, and I do know him. He is a Prince of the realm and Helaena has told me he is the kindest and most gentle brother.” Her voice turns so whimsical at the last part that you can’t help but snort. 

“Helaena is hardly going to tell you that he is ungentlemanly, exasperating and completely incapable of-” you stop yourself.  

What exactly were you going to say next? Incapable of forgetting a certain day on the beach?  

You swallow your words, but Maris presses for more. "Incapable of what ?”  

“Smiling ,” you say quickly, except that isn't true. You've seen him smile plenty of times. Heard his infuriating laughter too. Yet Maris agrees with you.  

“You’re right, he never really seems to smile but I can hardly hold that against him.” 

“You don’t hold anything against anyone,” you remind her.  

“Well, you hold everything against everyone . You know we are all wondering why Ser Harrold does not ask you to dance anymore...” her tone is playful, as though she assumes the whole thing is by your design and you don’t refute her. 

“Ser Harrold is a fool.” 

You can practically hear the roll of her eyes. "Is there a single man you don’t despise?” 

“Of course,” you say, keeping your tone even and entirely serious. “I don’t despise, Lord Henry.” 

Maris giggles so loudly you’re certain she will wake the entire keep. “He is a cat!” 

“And much more amiable than the men at court,” you say, trying desperately to hold onto your own giggles. But Maris’ laughter is so infectious that you’re both forced to cover the quilt over your head to smother the sounds.  

When you come up for air, you don’t tell her you’re playing Cyvasse with the Queen in the morning. In fact, you don’t tell anyone, and for someone who is trying to steer clear of unwelcome company, you’re doing a terrible job.  

~~~~

Thank you for all your lovely comments, likes and reblogs on the previous chapters! <3

[triplesilverstar]

Day 1

Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Water creature Vash X Water creature F!Reader

CW: Imprisonment, pregnancy, underwater sex, smut, angst and smut, breeding, blood, injury, gunfire, water creature of some kind, mild smut, mentions of scars, penis in vaginal sex established relationship 

Word count: 2016

A/N: The first of the monster fics, this one was inspired by a lovely piece of artwork that you can find here. Enjoy!

Moving to the surface of the lake you let out a trill, looking up towards the full moon as you broke through before turning towards the shore. Silhouetted there you can see him, unlike you he doesn’t have to spend his entire life in water, using the feathery-like protrusions from your appendages to make your way to shore. 

As you approach you watch as he strips the human clothes from his body, a body very much human looking but you know his feathers are just beneath the surface of his scarred skin. Reaching the edge of where you can swim in the shallows you wait for him. Long fingers reach for his, smiling as some of his features change, no longer trying to fit in with the human world to hide.   

The fingernails of his remaining arm lengthen, the other lost when he’d come to your rescue when you had almost been swept up in a turbine at the other end of the lake. The teeth in his mouth shifted to points, his ears doing something similar, and as he entered the water the blue markings on his skin lit up, broken by his numerous scars. 

You know other females had spurned him because of his scars, you’d seen them and seen his resilience, been enamored by it because if he could survive all of that he would certainly come back to you. Just like he is right now. “Hello, beautiful” tumbles from his lips as he moves closer to you, hand reaching for you.

A happy trill leaves you as your own hand wraps around his “Hello handsome” whispered across your mental connection because to you he is handsome. Above the water, your voice is nothing but a series of warbles and clicks. His hair goes in all directions, the portion along the back of his neck dyed black and you tilt your head. Your other hand moves to his ear “This is new” giving the gold hoop a flick. 

“New human thing. I thought you’d like it too.” Close enough now, he presses his lips to yours letting out a trill of his own, far deeper than any sound you can make, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Mouth parting to let your tongues tangle together, you missed him, the taste of him, the smell of him. Feeling your own markings starting to resonate now that he was next to you in the water. Your free hand moved to pull his body closer to yours, rubbing your soft body against his. The hard muscles of his form a wonderful contrast to your own.

“I do” grinning against his lips as you both move out to deeper water, bodies moving and pressing against one another at every chance. Once far enough out, his hand leaves you, pressing against your back as he kisses you once more. Feeling his hard cock between the two of you trapped between your bellies, at least for now. Tonight's full moon is special. A breeding moon. The first time he’d had a chance to come to you during one since you’d accepted him as your mate, an annoyance when he had to pretend to fit in among the humans sent away on working trips he hissed when he had the chance to rejoin you in your watery home. But it was better to hide in plain sight while you were forced to hide in the waters of the world, your lake had once been connected to a river until the humans had built a dam. Trapping you while the rest of your female brethren kept moving, heading to a new area and while you remained behind.

At least Vash is still able to come to you, otherwise, you’d be miserable separated from him because of humans and what they do to the world around them. Their species part of the reason part of your own had returned to the waters that you had sprung from. A somber state of affairs as you try to keep your focus on him, his tender caresses and touches along your satiny form.

Between your bodies you feel him twitching, he knows as well as you do tonight you’ll be fertile waiting for him to provide you with the other half of what you need. A low growl ripped from his throat, hand descending through the water to grip your hip and position you where he wants you, nipping your lips with his sharp teeth as he breeches you. It’s not the first time the two of you have mated, feeling as he fills you to the point you think you might break, noises coming from both of you, pleasure dancing on the edge of your senses, most of them focused on everything else about him. In the water like this, your long legs move to wrap around his waist, helping to keep him inside you, a shuddering breath before both of you move as one down into the depths. 

The thin lines along your throat open, allowing you to breathe, pressing your mouth to his no longer just for pleasure but to keep oxygen flowing through his body as well. The deeper the two of you move into the depths the harder his body moves against yours, sliding in and out of your core making your insides twitch and spasm along his length. 

Deep enough in the water you writhe against one another, bodies pressed tightly together and he plunges his length as far inside of your body as he can, his warm cock burning inside of you. Both of you illuminating the water around from your resonating markings, a soft blue glow that makes his eyes seem even more blue. Breaking from your lips, he starts to snap his hips as much as he can against you and you feel your insides clamp down around him, parts of your body shifting to keep him inside of you. His movements grow erratic, markings flashing brighter as you feel his seed starting to fill you, a few bubbles popping past his lips before rising above the two of you. You can feel his body starting to weaken, needing air you move closer to him again pressing your lips to his to feed him more oxygen. His hand presses against the back of your neck, gently, while your own hands wander his shoulders. Waiting for him to recover before he provides you with more of his seed, he knows this will help with your lonely days when he’s gone away. Rearing your first child and teaching them the dangers of humans.  

Several rounds later, you slowly make your way back to the surface, a soft smile overtaking his face as he starts to breathe on his own above the shifting waves. Your legs still wrapped around his, keeping his member inside of you and his seed from floating away in the chill waters. 

Another quick kiss, slowly moving closer to the shallows yet the two of you are still joined. It sometimes seems so odd to you that both sexes of your species are so different, but maybe that’s because evolution needed one-half of your species to hide, so females returned to the water. Or at least that’s what you’d like to think. 

Back in the shallow water, Vash directs both of your bodies so he's resting under you, his head above water against a smooth rock supporting his back, your body pressing against him still joined as he slowly keeps pumping more of his seed into you knowing it may not have the same force as down in the depths. “You look pretty in the moonlight.” 

A soft trill at his compliment, folding your arms under you and against his chest so you can smile up at your mate. “You do too, Vash.” Making him laugh and claiming he’s not pretty. 

By the time dawn comes, he’s pained to leave you, rubbing his taloned hand along your belly where he knows your child will grow strong, safe and secure. “Stay safe. I’ll be back soon.” A kiss goodbye and you move back out into the water and return to the depths. 

You don’t know how it happened, you’d been careful, but the humans as always had no regard for the world they resided in. You’d ended up in a net trap, unable to move gasping as you were pulled to the surface thrashing. You remembered seeing the shocked human faces before you blacked out something sticking between some of your feathers. 

When you next came to, you were in a glass tank with several faces staring at you from the thin divide and a black object with a shiny lens. You simply move to the side of the tank as far away from them as you can go and lean against the corner you feel there, folding in on yourself. You know you’re crying, separated from your mate and your offspring growing inside of you, but the humans would never see your tears as they disappeared in the water as soon as they appeared. 

After a week you feel yourself growing weaker, the food they’ve been providing you is nowhere near enough to sustain you and your growing child. Loathed as you are to eat it, tasting the chemicals of whatever poisons they add trying to keep their food last longer. The humans are fascinated with you, from all the flashing lights and red dots on the black objects you see. Some of them have taken tubes of your blood, and you thought some of them commented on how fascinating it was that you were pregnant. Commenting you must be capable of reproducing on your own. Idiot humans. Maybe if they learned about the world instead of making assumptions they’d know better.

Now in the dark of night, the lights surrounding your prison you hear it. The sound of screams rending the air, and your head jerks within the water when you hear it. 

Your name. 

At the surface of the glass tank above you, you can see him, rushing to the top and banging your fist against the panel. Vash sees you under his feet, the fear on his face melting away, and you swear you see his lips move whispering your name once more. 

Before you scream. 

Watching as Vash falls to the ground, grasping his leg before forcing his body to stand and face them. A glint of light flashes by and you bang the glass hard as Vash falls once more, landing face-first above your prison. The water around you going pink, knowing you’re distressed.  

You screamed from your glass confines, hands outstretched towards his watching as his lifeblood dripped from his face, forming a puddle on top of the glass. Turning his head you catch his eye and see the light shining within those deep pools grow. His lips move, trying to reassure you, and you can hear more voices asking him what he’s doing there.

He doesn't answer them. Watching you and taking in your figure, watching his blue eyes move across your form. Those eyes are burning from within, rage and fury fueling him, and you notice the blood falling from his thigh as well. No! This is not what you want! They’re killing him. They’re killing you! They’re killing your child! You need to get out of here somehow!

His eyes soften for a moment as he stares at you, his lips moving to tell you it will be alright, pushing himself up on one arm and you watch as his body shifts. The human features morph into the ones you know well, and his feathers are forming sprouting from his body in a mass of wild abandon. 

Even through the glass, you hear him snarl at the humans that are approaching him, clearly taken aback at the apparent changes in your lover breaking the charade used to keep him safe. Your protector. “Free my mate! NOW!” His voice echoed around the room with enough force to make even the glass of your prison reverberate.

Dividers

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[miasmaghoul]

Rain spitting in Dew’s mouth, there really no subtle way to put it is there

No need for subtlety if you ask me!

Also I made this dom!Rain forcedfem because I am in a Mood(tm) and no one said I couldn't.

It's long! Enjoy!

Dewdrop swallows hard as he stares at himself in the mirror.

Sometimes he doesn't know why he lets Rain do this to him. Lets the water ghoul dress him in satin and lace, lets him paint his face and clip his hair back. It's the most degrading thing in the world, being made to feel like-

"How's my sweet girl doing?" Rain's lilting voice drifts through the door. Dew's dick throbs in his panties, a frission of combined excitement and shame skittering down his spine. Oh, right. That's why.

"Almost done," he huffs, palming himself through the soft fabric. His face is bright red in the mirror, and it matches Rain's choice of outfit for the night. A lacy red bralette and matching garter belt, red fishnets and an embarrassingly small pair of white satin panties. He's barely half hard, but Dew can see every bit of the way his cock is filling out. There's already a damp spot forming at the front, the satin practically see through.

He's gotten better at doing his makeup. The wings of eyeliner almost match, and there's only a couple little smudges of mascara on his eyelids. The lipstick Rain had chosen for tonight is baby pink and glossy, shining in the too-bright light of the hotel bathroom. Dew can't stop making ridiculous faces at himself to see it glint. His hair is tied back in a loose tail, as he was instructed. Nothing fancy tonight. Rain must have plans to fuck it up. Dew shivers at the thought.

There's one more piece to the outfit though, and for some reason it was the one Dew was stuck on.

"Don't make me wait, baby," Rain coos, and Dew whimpers under his breath.

It's just a necklace. That's all. He's worn them before when they play like this. It's no big deal. Just jewelry. Nothing more, Dew tells himself. But his hands still shake as he stares at it.

A length of red ribbon, smooth and satiny. No closure, intended to be tied around his neck. That part was fine. He was mostly struggling with the gold hoop at the center of it. The one that had the word 'SLUT' dangling from it in sparkling charms. "Bought it special, just for you," Rain had whispered in his ear, "I think it's perfect for you."

Dew turns from the mirror, takes a deep breath and ties the collar around his neck just tight enough that it takes effort to swallow. Rain will like that. He steps out of the bathroom, fingering the letters that sit at the hollow of his throat.

Dew has to give his eyes a moment to adjust - the room is dark, lit only by the ambient light filtering in through the open curtains. They're on a higher floor and Dewdrop can see stars speckling the night sky. Rain clicks on a lamp and Dew looks over at him.

"Look at you," Rain purrs. He sits across the room in a plush armchair, legs crossed, head tilted. Smirking as he sips from one of the wine glasses on the table. His icy blue eyes flash in the warm lamplight and Dew feels himself shiver. "My beautiful girl."

Dew groans and nods. Rain uncrosses his legs and pats his knee, canting his head. Dewdrop pads over and perches himself in Rain's lap, hoping the low light hides how flushed he is. No matter how many times they do this, the initiation is the hardest part. But soon Rain will have him floating and absent, and Dew knows his suffering will be well worth it.

"You like your present, princess?" Rain murmurs, setting his drink down. His fingers ghost over Dew's sharp collar bone, fiddling with the letters and making them clink together. Dew swallows and gives a stilted nod, breaths already starting to come quicker. Rain chuckles, leaning in to nose at the soft skin behind Dew's ear. "Use your words," he says, flicking his tongue over the lobe.

"Y-yes," Dew rasps. It's not entirely true, but he hopes Rain doesn't hear his hesitance. The ribbon is tight around his throat. That part, at least, he does like.

"Tell the truth, sweetheart," Rain says, nipping the shell of his ear with a fang. His fingers slip beneath the ribbon, tugging it even tighter. "Good girls don't tell lies."

Dew makes a strangled sound as his cock kicks against the satin. He nods fervently, licking at his lips. He wants to say yes, wants to tell Rain he means it, but the words stick in his throat. Rain tuts at him, and Dewdrop is immediately disappointed in himself.

"Kneel," Rain instructs, tugging at Dew's ponytail. He slides from the taller ghoul's lap with a whimper, looking up at him with sad eyes. He doesn't want Rain to be upset with him. He wants to be his good girl. Always. Rain runs his thumb along Dew's jaw. "You look so pretty down there. Open up for me, gorgeous."

Dew does without argument, tilting his head back when Rain tucks two fingers under his chin. He expects them to slip between his lips, for Rain to make him suck them, and Dew sighs at the loss of Rain's touch when he pulls back instead. He reaches for his wine glass and Dew swallows with his mouth open, an odd, wet sound.

"Thirsty, hmm?" It's not a real question, and Dew doesn't respond. He simply watches, mouth watering as Rain's tongue glides over the rim of the glass. The crimson liquid flows over his lips, dark and decadent, and Dew has to grip at his garters to keep his hands from shaking.

Rain puts the glass down and leans over, smiling. He slides two fingers into the collar again and Dew lets himself be pulled forward, his breaths coming faster and faster. Rain's other hand grips at his jaw once they're nose-to-nose, and Dew feels his eyes glaze over.

Rain opens his mouth and lets the wine pour free. It flows over Dew's tongue in warm rivulets, sharp and smooth, berries and oak. Tinged with petrichor. He keeps his throat closed, lets it pool at the back of his mouth as he shivers. Rain is staring into his eyes and Dew wants to get lost in them. Rain pulls back once the last drops have fallen from his tongue, but his grip on Dewdrop's jaw keeps him from swallowing.

"One more thing," he says, voice edged with something dark.

Rain spits into his already filled mouth, and Dewdrop feels like he's drowning. Rain releases his grip and Dew swallows greedily, panting hard. His body is electric, the edges of his mind going wonderfully fuzzy already.

"Tell me what you are, babydoll." Rain's fingers tug at the ribbon again, and Dew is only too happy to say what he wants to hear.

"I'm...I'm your slut," he slurs, feeling the wet spot on his straining panties grow.

"Good girl," Rain breathes, and Dew thinks he's never been so happy to degrade himself. Rain leans in and licks a droplet of splashed wine from Dewdrop's painted lip. "Now let me treat you like one."

[mamadoc]

The next chapter of my most popular story, Catch of a Lifetime, is posted. Lucy and Tim *finally* make it to their first date!

Here’s how it starts:

At 6:02 Lucy heard a knock on her door. She and Jackson had rushed home, and she barely had time to change her clothes and curl her hair, but she was ready.

“Sorry I’m late,” were the first words that fell from Tim’s mouth as the door started to open. It’s a good thing he was ready to say them, because once he saw Lucy, his mouth became dry, and all other thoughts were erased from his mind.

Lucy was wearing the green dress she had purchased a couple weeks prior when she had a girls’ day with her friend Rachel. It was a deep, emerald green satin dress with a v-neck that came down just to the edges of her breasts. The skirt dress extended down to her ankles where it flowed like water around her legs with a slit or two that occasionally allowed her muscular legs to show through. Her hair was curled into long, loose waves that she had partially pulled back. She accessorized with a simple gold St. Michael pendant that the West family had given to her, small gold hoop earrings, and her favorite oval moonstone ring.

“Come in,” she said. Then she laughed softly and said, “You’re not late, it probably took you those two minutes just to come up the elevator.”

“If you’re not early, you’re late,” he replied when his brain started functioning again.

“Ah. There’s the control freak again,” she sing-songed.

Tim rolled his eyes and decided to change the topic. “You look absolutely beautiful.” Then he suddenly remembered the flowers that were still in his hand. “These are for you.”

“Thanks,” she said. Lucy let her eyes wander up and down his frame. He was wearing black slacks with a matching black suit jacket. Underneath the jacket was a dark gray button-up shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned. As she leaned forward to take the flowers from him, she popped up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re looking very handsome yourself,” she said. Then she giggled for a moment. “Particularly since you running the bases at Dodger Stadium less than an hour ago.”

Tim smiled. “I try.”

Lucy grinned back at him. “I’m fairly certain it would be impossible for you to not look breathtakingly handsome regardless of what you wear,” she said as she was looking for a vase. Finding one that would work, she stretched, wiggling her fingers while up on her tiptoes to reach it.

Tim came behind her and easily took the vase out of the cupboard. “Hmm… Quite the compliment from a woman that has made me speechless more times than I can remember. You just seem to get more beautiful every time I see you.”

They moved together to the sink where Lucy filled the vase with water and trimmed the roses’ stems. “It is oddly satisfying to break your brain every once in a while.” Then she paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side. “Do you think that will wear off as we spend more time together? That I won’t be able to stun you the way I have?”

Tim was standing right behind Lucy with both hands on her waist. Lucy could feel the rumbling of his voice against her back and the warmth of his breath next to her ear when he spoke. She felt that familiar tingling feeling spreading from her waist to her entire body. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see, but I can’t imagine a situation in which I don’t think you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

Lucy turned her head just slightly toward him. “Even when I wake up after a sleepless night and my hair looks like a small animal made a nest in it?”

“I’m sure I’ll love that bedhead look of yours. Especially if I was the cause for the sleeplessness.” He whispered the last part into her ear and then started kissing down the column of her neck.

Lucy felt a shiver go down her spine. “Okay. What if we’re out on a hike, and I fall into a big mud puddle and tear by pants?”

“Still beautiful,” he mumbled into her collar bone as he continued to kiss her.

“What if I have a stomach bug, and I’m pale and sweaty and have spent hours bowing to the porcelain throne?”

“Then I sit there with you and hold back your hair. I’ll wash off your face and cool you off with a soft washcloth. And you’ll still be beautiful.” He had reached her shoulder and then started kissing back toward her neck.

“What if I’ve had a rough day at work, and I come home covered in scrapes and bruises?”

“Come home?” he repeated in a whisper right in her ear. “If you’re coming home to me, then I’ll be the luckiest guy in the world. I’ll kiss every scrape or bruise, and you’ll still be the prettiest woman I’ve ever met.”

Lucy put the last rose into the vase. The two dozen red roses towered over the tulips and daisies he had brought earlier, but they were each associated with equally happy moments for Lucy, and she loved having this physical reminder of the time they had spent together. She turned around to look at Tim. He kept his hands on her waist as she twisted. She smiled up at him, studied his face for a moment, and then asked him a question that had been on her mind for a full three weeks. “You could have almost any woman you wanted. Angela has mentioned a few times that hundreds of women have thrown themselves at you. Sooo… Why me? There’s nothing special or particularly interesting about me. There are plenty of thinner or fitter or more beautiful or smarter or more… basebally women out there. Why me?”

Tim looked deeply into her eyes, and then breathed out her name. “Lucy… The answer to that may take more time than we have, but I think you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He moved his hand to cup her cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. “You’re very interesting and special. Beautiful. Smart. Strong. Caring. Athletic. Kind…” With each word he planted a tiny kiss around her face. “And… Distracting,” he said with one last kiss on the tip of her nose. “We’ve gotta go. I love spending time with you here, but I have plans tonight.”

Lucy’s eyes fluttered back open as she felt him move away from her. He had practically kissed and complimented her into a trance. As her eyes started to focus again on the stunning man standing in front of her, she shook her head a couple times and took a deep breath. Blowing out the breath, she said, “Yeah. Right. Plans.” She stepped over to where she had set down her clutch purse. “Any chance you’re going to tell me what we’re doing now?”

“Not a chance in the world. Let’s go,” he said while putting gentle pressure on her lower back.

Read more here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51183676/chapters/137827918#workskin

[themanirealityshifter]

🔥🐉My Partner in WoF DR🐉🔥

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• { Dragon Form } •

• { Name: SunBeetle } • • { Nickname(s): Sun; Beetle; Sunny (yes, i know, there is a canon character named Sunny, but i think, just like humans, multiple different dragons can have the same name) } • • { Tribe(s): SilkWings and SandWings } • • { Age: 8 } •

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

• { Pronouns: He/It } • • { Gender Identity: TransMale (+ questioning) } • • { Romantic Orientation: Aroflux (+ questioning) } • • { Sexual Orientation: Aceflux (+ questioning) } • • { Other Orientation(s): Ambiamorous; Questioning alterous, queerplatonic, sensual, and aesthetic labels } •

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

• { Parent(s): BrittleBush and HoneyBee } • • { Sibling(s): None } • • { Other Family Member(s): Unnamed Family Members } • • { Partner(s): Stormbreaker } • • { Best Friend(s): All of Stormbreaker’s siblings; A couple of yet-to-be-scripted Dragons } • • { Friend(s): None (as of right now) } •

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

• { Description: Golden yellow scales with hints of deep orange on the spine, forelegs, and wings; Orange antennae, claws, and spikes; Sandy-brown undertones on the stomach, chest, and back of legs; Four bat-like wings; Scales are very shiny and polished; SilkWing-like body and snout; Looks like a SilkWing at first glance; Blue eyes } • • { Personality: Same as in CR } • • { Accessories: Sun earring on right ear; Several gold studs and hoop earrings on both ears; A good hoop nose piercing; A small pouch on back left leg } • • { Abilities: Flamesilk; Can speak Human; Fire-breath; Can go without food or water for a long time (a week at most); Shape-shifter; Poisonous tail-barb; and Animus magic } • • { Extra Personal Facts: Wingbuds had been bigger than usual and oddly shaped as a dragonet; Was born on Pyrrhia and has traveled to Pantala multiple times; Talons and forelegs are constantly seen spattered with paint or ink } •

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

• { Location: Pyrrhia (Rain-Night Kingdom) } • • { Diet: Pretty much anything except for poisonous things and Humans } • • { Pet(s): Sloth (named Eep) } • • { Extra Fact(s): Same as in WoF script } •

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

• { Human Form } •

• { Name: SunBeetle } • • { Nickname(s): Sun; Beetle; Sunny } • • { Species: Human } • • { Age: 21 } •

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• { Pronouns: He/It } • • { Gender Identity: TransGuy (+ questioning) } • • { Romantic Orientation: Aroflux (+ questioning) } • • { Sexual Orientation: Aceflux (+ questioning) } • • { Other Orientation(s): Ambiamorous; Questioning alterous, queerplatonic, sensual, and aesthetic labels } •

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

• { Parent(s): None (Was born a Dragon, so has no Human parents) } • • { Sibling(s): None (Was born a Dragon, so has no Human siblings) } • • { Other Family Member(s): None (Was born a Dragon, so has no Human family members) } • • { Partner(s): Stormbreaker } • • { Best Friend(s): All of Stormbreaker’s siblings; A couple of yet-to-be-scripted Humans } • • { Friend(s): None (as of right now) } •

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

• { Description: 6’3”; Blond hair in a fluffy mullet with the tips dyed maroon and blue; Bright blue eyes; Same body type as in CR, except a bit more masculine (cuz of the T); Top and bottom surgery scars; Round silver-rimmed glasses; Pale skin; A sun tattoo on the inside of left wrist; A SandWing-SilkWing-looking birthmark covering whole right shoulder blade } • • { Personality: Same as in CR } • • { Accessories: Three silver earrings in both ears, two holes in both ears having small silver hoops and left ear having a sun earring while the other just having another silver hoop; A black conch piercing in right ear; A silver hoop helix on left ear; A silver septum piercing; Two silver nose piercings; Silver stud snakebites; Several rings and bracelets } • • { Abilities: Shape-shifter; Can speak Dragon } •

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• { Location: Pyrhhia (Rain-Night Kingdom) } • • { Diet: Pretty much anything except for poisonous things and Dragons } • • { Extra Fact(s): Same thing for Human Form on WoF Script } •

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• { Partner in DR (Human Form)(Picrew Form) } •

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(posted with my boyfriend’s permission)

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2023

15 OCTOBER 2023 || The Princess of Wales attended the Rugby World Cup quarter final match between England and Fiji at the Stade de Marseille in France.

Catherine opted for -

↬ Textured Double Breasted Blazer in 'Ecru' by Zara

↬ 'Axon' Side Zip Wide Leg Pant in 'Black' by Roland Mouret

↬ Spine Small Hoop Earrings in Gold by Lenique Louis

↬ Red Rose Enamel Brooch from England Rugby

↬ Ballon Bleu De Watch from Cartier

↬ Mini Flap Bag in Black Lambskin by Chanel

↬ '100Point' Blade Heel Court Shoe in 'Black' by Russell and Bromley

[second-wife-playbook]

Things your muse can be identified by!

Colors:

violet, lavender, gold, silver, black, pink and yellow, dove gray, misty blues

Scents:

Cognac and brandy, dried flowers, old books and yellowed pages, clean soap, hothouse lilies, warm pine

Fashion:

Long skirts and sleeves, hand-me-down princesscore, comfortable dresses, cowgirl-getup, very Edwardian period accurate clothing

Objects:

Embroidery hoop (half-done), an tattered romance novel with a worn out spine, a box of secret treasures, an almost empty bottle of alcohol, a stained crystal glass with the dregs still in it, a jar of potpourri, a collection of essays (are they fanfics???)

Body Language:

Nervous, hands clasped, head bowed, eyes shifting from one side of the room to the other, staying close to the wall, trying to blend in with the curtains, a far-off look in their eyes, fingers tracing the faces in a classical painting, flinching, fidgeting

Aesthetic:

Gothic princesscore, melancholic walks in the garden, sitting at the bar with a long, wistful look on their face, tears dripping onto a hand mirror in their lap, running through the forest without direction, staring up at the sky with hope and anxiousness, curled up in an old high-back chair with a comforting book

Saw them do it: @grandma-susan @angie-long-legs

Tagging: @helluvaoutlaw @holyfurnace @keeperofquestions @lady-orabella

[willowser]

NO NO WILL DO NOT SHUT UP! PLEASE DO TELL MORE ABOUT PIRATE KIRISHIMA I'M INVESTED!

okay i just have to link to this art by nooepkt on twitter because it. is. everything to meeee ✨️

he's so handsome !! 🥺 and i have this vision that you meet by chance and it's not that you're wealthy or high-class by any means, but you know who you are and you hold yourself to a certain standard. a little proper, maybe, because there are so many in your little town that are drunks and thieves and you just try to make do as best you can. and i think you have dreams !! 🥺 of being a painter and seeing the world 🥺 lands and horizons you couldn't afford to ever look upon as a single young woman 🥺

and then here comes this man, right, some guardsman to the governor 😒 and you know these types !! all slimy and sleazy and more wicked than they appear — but this one, strangely, has a lot to say about your paintings. knows a lot about pastels and rococo, even mentions a french artist or two that you happen to admire. and you're floored !! because there aren't many you can talk about art with, that are cultured !!

oh, oh, and you're sketching out the fluffy waves of a calm shore and he moves to correct you, kindly informing you that,

"she ain't quiet like that, the sea," voice low and rough and right over your shoulder, drawing goosebumps up your spine. "a wild thing, alive with the spirits of dead men and the sirens that drug 'em down."

and it's because he's so close that, when you turn to look at him, you can see clearly the scar over his eye and the tattoos that trail down his neck and into his coat. and his hair is tied neatly back, but it's so — red, and the gold hoops in his ears gleam as the sun sets behind you both.

and then bells are being rung !! shots fired !! because a body has been found, stripped of his uniform, and one of the govenors ships is sailing out !! you're so caught up in the panic in town that you lose him for a second, but then you find him standing at the edge of the sea wall, freeing his wild hair before covering it with a tri-corn hat, winking at you once before diving over the edge.