#his bite is definitely worse than his bark

[malifiquemakes]

Little guy, big attitude.

[evieelyzabethh]

"lacy"

⭒"i see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear"⭒ Arcane characters when jealous {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞ slight angst but they all have a happy ending, kissing, and the usual stuff (slightly pervy Jayce)

♞Vi♞

♞Making Vi jealous is a terrible game. She is about that action and absolutely loves to fight, nothing beats that flow of adrenaline as she chases someone down to bash their face in. I feel like she would also get a bit mean. Jealousy is a nasty thing, it bites, and she bites back harder. The pit it creates in her stomach tries to swallow her whole and sometimes she wants to bring you down with her

♞She doesn't understand why you would want or need the attention of anyone else when you have her. Chiefly at the beginning of your relationship, it would cause a rift, intention or not. Vi doesn't have a proper education, she’s constantly guilt ridden about her childhood and her sister, she's broke, and an absolute hot mess. She's already constantly questioning why you're with her in the first place and the last thing she needs is some random coming up and flirting with you and you even bothering to dignify their presence with a response.

♞She would go dead silent, brushing you off for what feels like weeks, stewing in her increasingly negative thoughts. She doesn't even think you're cheating, but she feels like it's only a moment of time before you realize there's something better out there. Always the one to make the wrong decision, she pushes you away for a bit. She's very short with you, brushing off your attempts to make peace, playing a mean game to see if you're gonna give up on her so she can use it against you. This is definitely her biggest red flag.

It's dark and rainy out, rain pelting at the ground, seeping and sliding into its cracks to rehydrate the already soft foundation. It was supposed to be a calm night out at the Last Drop involving a few drinks to get Vi out of her current terrible mood, bookended by an unstable walk home as you both barely support each other under your weight and constant fit of giggles. Instead, Vi was a few paces ahead of you, hands shoved into her pockets, her head down rather than putting her hood up to keep her head dry from the rain. Every time you approach her, she slightly leans away. At first you thought it was an accident, maybe she was trying to avoid stepping on a rock or into a puddle, but after the umpteenth time it happens, the message becomes clear. She's avoiding you. As argumentative as she is, you may even be worse. "What the fuck is your, problem?", you bark, the alcohol in your veins curving the embarrassment of passersby clearly tuning into the argument they think is about to break out. "You've said some choice things and have been awfully rude these past few days, and I really don't appreciate it, Violet." But she doesn't have it in her to make a big scene. It's definitely the alcohol, because she's genuinely scared that if she starts a screaming match with you right now, she'll cry. She turns to you swiftly, hair dripping wet, stray dye rolling down her cheeks and down the slope of her nose. You had just dyed it together a few days ago, back before she decided to be mad at you for who knows what reason. "Look at me", she grabs your chin before you even get the chance to break eye contact with her. Petty, pissed, and unable to jerk your face out of her grip without giving yourself whiplash, you close your eyes. This pisses her off even more. "What, you don't have any more charity work left in you? You can giggle with what-his-face for hours, but you can't even look at your girlfriend?" That gets you to open your eyes, at first confused as to what the hell she was talking about then glittering with amusement that causes her to immediately let go and continue her fast paced walk back home. She isn't far enough to escape your light voice, cheery with the realization that you finally broke her down and occupied with what you think is the silliest thing in the world. "Oh, my gods, you're jealous about that guy from last night! Vi, you're so ridiculous, I don't even remember his name." And she is still teeming with anger, but that anger will dissipate soon after that last admission. Once you sober up, you don't find it as funny, but she's at your every beck and call trying to convince you it won't happen again.

♞After a little while together, she feels more stable in the relationship. Trust, she still gets jealous, but it usually looks like a smirk on her face before she pulls you into a heated kiss in front of whoever is bothering her. She makes a real show of it too, prying open your mouth to slip her tongue inside, her hands squeezing your sides and hiking up your dress, knee pressed firmly in between your legs. She continues long after the person leaves, before shrugging and sarcastically wondering where they possibly could've gone off to. You often scold her for this. You've never been to jail, and you'd hate to go for a public indecency charge.

★Ekko★

★Ekko doesn't really get jealous, like out of everyone I think he would get the least jealous so most of this section would be about his complete lack of jealousy. He doesn't believe in getting into relationships without trust first and it's because of this confident trust that he wouldn't get jealous. If anything, he wouldn't be jealous as in feeling like your relationship was in danger but jealous when it comes to your time. Like he would get slightly pouty if he felt like you were spending too much time with your friends, and it was significantly cutting out of your time together. Even then, he wouldn't really act on it.

★Ekko would be a "I don't care what my girlfriend wears, I can fight" kinda guy. Especially because he likes picking out your outfits, he does it with the intention of showing off the goods. He likes looking at you, he knows the world likes looking at you, he sees it as doing a favor to society. He is the first to tell you your tits look scrumptious in that top.

★Same concept with you being approached or flirted with. If they have the gall to do it in his direct presence, he has a great many words to say about it, but if he's watching it go down, he likes to watch it happen. He'll get involved as soon as he gets the feeling you are uncomfortable, but for the most part he sits amused a few feet away laughing at the glances you give him as the conversation goes on.

★I feel like if anyone was to get jealous, it would be you. Ekko spends a lot of time with a lot of different people which leaves space for certain people to not know that he's spoken for. I think he would be less aware of this than you. You are always at the forefront of his mind; he cannot fathom giving his attention to other people. Especially because he talks about you so often, he makes it quite clear that he is not single and when people choose to ignore that fact, he doesn't notice.

Warm light flitters into your shared room through half open blinds that reveal the orange and yellow that the blue sky had faded into. Ekko had just gotten home eager to strip down into some old, tattered tee shirt and some boxer shirts. Instead, he was met with a slightly agitated girlfriend, and he notices this immediately. He gives you space at first, greeting you at the door and asking you how you were and listening to your expectedly short answer. He only lasts a few minutes of this passive aggression before sliding beside you on the couch, sliding his arm around you and pulling you in close. You reluctantly lean in, trying to ignore how inviting he smells and how warm he feels. "Baby," he draws out, scooping you completely into his arms to straddling your thighs over his waist, his large palms remaining on your upper thigh. He's trying to whittle down your resolve and it is working. "Don't you wanna tell me what's wrong?" You rolled your eyes. "I've already told you what's wrong." He thinks it's cute that you're jealous. He likes the way your arms cross over your puffed chest, and you furrow your brow to try and appear serious but all you look like to him is a rabbit about to thump its foot. "And I have already told you, I am completely yours." It's cheesy and he knows it and he amps it up by scattering kiss all over your face, even as you try to evade his touch. "I don't doubt that, it's just..." He derails your sentences as his kisses move lower and his hands get more adventurous, exploring your upper thigh and the curve of your ass and the small of your back from underneath your shirt. "Hey!", you snap, "I'm being serious, Ekko." He pauses, withdrawing his hands to the fat of your hips and, reluctantly, his lips from your neck. "I'm listening, baby." "I've told you I don't know how many times that I do not like that girl. She is all over you." His mouth opens to try and protest, but you cut him off. "I can literally smell her perfume on you." He gets slightly defensive at this. "You don't think I'm cheating on you, do you?" A look of hurt flashes across his eyes. "Of course, I don't, Ekko. I'm not questioning you; I'm questioning her. I know she knows we're together and she just doesn't care, and you don't shut it down. Why else do you think she kept you out this late? What were you two doing?" Nothing. A whole lot of nothing, actually. The girl you were referring to, Thalara, had been a topic of conversation before. She was new to the commune, which landed her the benefit of the doubt with you, but it's been months now and she still hasn't laid off. Ekko, ever trusting of his people, never assumed malintent, but you saw right through her. You cup his head in between your hands, looking him in his eyes to make sure that the message is clear. "I love you, and I'm not mad at you, but she's pissing me off. You need to make it very clear that she needs to leave you alone or I will send the message for you." And you meant that. He makes it very clear to her the next day that he has absolutely no interest and comes back to you the next day beaming in accomplishment.

★Jealous you turns him on so incredibly much. Whatever you say goes, he is not one to turn you down when you're in a jealous mood.

❂Jayce❂

❂I feel like you would both get jealous, but he would get far more jealous than you do. While he is far from someone who would tell you to change what you're wearing, he does try and tag along with you when you're wearing something low cut. Like babe, what do you mean you don't want him to join girls night? Are you sure you're not cold?? You must be cold; your ass is hanging out, why won't you take his jacket?? Please take his jacket!!! Because of this he walks behind you, making it much harder for those undeserving to stare at you like he does.

❂While he loves showing you off at fancy events, ain't shit funny if you look too good. If you're lucky enough to make it out the house on time (he insists on helping you zip up but then gets confused which way zippers go), being there is a struggle. He likes staring at you and did not have the forethought to think other people would enjoy staring at you too. Let someone make a comment too, he is glued to your hip for the rest of the night.

He waits anxiously for the stupid gala to be over. Had he been more of a drinker, he would've been content to have a few glasses of the fancy champagne they brought around, but he hates the ethanol aftertaste it leaves behind and that is the last thing he needed after already feeling nauseous. He was trying so hard for you, he knew he had to give you your space, and he knew you were excited to go out to his Hextech showcase to show your support. He's being bitter and he hates it, he hates biting his tongue while watching you giggle with a councilman and the fact that he feels like a petulant child watching some other kid play with his toy He's been getting better with his jealousy, honest! That's why he's self-aware enough to know that his urge to go after you, sling you over his shoulder, and carry you home himself is childsh and silly and that you would chastise him over it as he looked at you like a kicked puppy. Gods, this was stupid. But he puts a smile on his face anyway, making his way over to you from the balcony he was just standing on, and sliding his hand on your shoulder. You look over at him, startled for a second, but relax when you see his amber eyes and slightly gapped smile. And then you say the magic words. "Oh, I was just about to go looking for you. Are you ready to go?" He cannot say yes fast enough. After he has you all to himself, he is insatiable, kissing you deeply as soon as you step foot in the carriage taking you home, losing balance and nearly sending you both toppling onto the floor of the moving vehicle. The seats are awkward and not long enough to properly lay you down, but he's too desperate to care about the discomfort, his hand cradling the back of your neck to make sure you are as comfortable as you can be. He's ruthless, the force of his kisses knocking the breath out of you and you can never catch up. You're almost dizzy, his desperate whispers nearly going through one ear and out the other. "You love me, right? Me and only me? You don't need anyone else.", and he's trying to find your zipper again, but his hands are clumsy and cold, and it only serves to arch your back further into him, not that he's complaining. When you do come to your senses, you giggle, running your nails through his hair as he looks up at you with wide eyes. "How long have you been holding that in." He looks at you sheepishly, fighting the urge to hide his embarrassment in the crook of your neck. "All night." You shake your head at his ridiculousness, pulling him in for a slower kiss, properly savoring the moment, before pulled away to peck his nose. "You are the only one for me, handsome, I don't know how many times I have to say it." He shrugs his broad shoulders. "A few more times wouldn't hurt." You roll your eyes and ask if he wants a collar, and he does not look as adverse as you expected.

❂He is so incredibly unhinged when it comes to jealousy. He doesn't act on it, but his mind goes to wild places. In a modern AU, if you dare not reply to a text in ten minutes he's asking, "What position he got you in?" Even worse, he knows he's being senseless, it's his way of asking for reassurance in a joking way. It's so absurd, you don't take him seriously which slightly frustrates him because he wants you to reaffirm him on what he already knows.

❂He gets really pouty when jealous too. He'll usually try and thrust himself into his work to occupy his mind and get it back to a rational place. Viktor calls you immediately because he ends up talking to him about it and he thinks the entire ordeal is unreasonable and doesn't have time to be asked at the ass crack of dawn "I know she loves me, but what if (insert insane scenario here)." He is a chronic overthinker and sometimes you just have to shut his brain off.

☽Viktor☾

☽Viktor is another one who doesn't get super jealous, but when he does, it usually stems from insecurities surrounding his leg. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes, especially as his condition gets worse, he gets frustrated that he can't do the things as easy as he used to be able to. However, he is entirely too proud to admit it or act on it. You probably wouldn't even notice, to be honest, and he wouldn't want you to.

☽I think he would absolutely throw himself into work when jealous. He's already at the lab damn near day and night, but unlike usual when he'll try for conversation here and there and be more lively, he's throwing himself into it out of necessity. It is one of his pride and joys, when his ego takes a hit, work is his refuge. This, of course, hardly ever works because he does not get good work done when it's being forced. He'll usually end up staring at the photo he keeps of you at your desk and feel lonely.

☽He'll invite you around to his lab more, though he is uncharacteristically stiff and rigid. He's trying too hard to focus but he just can't. His leg is tapping furiously beneath the table, he's biting the inside of his cheek, his hand is running through his hair every couple minutes. Things just aren't computing like how he wants them to and he hates it. His pride is a double-edged sword here, jealously is Jayce's thing. He thinks he is leagues above it and he gets frustrated with himself when he feels that green sickness in his heart.

☽He would be the type to address it head on. Once again, he's very analytical. He will tell you what exactly got him upset, why exactly it upset him, be very clear that he isn't blaming or upset at you, and silently hope you go overboard with affection for the next few weeks for the sake of his ego. After he does, he likes to ignore it even happened. Him? Jealous? You must have him confused with another ridiculously attractive, impaired, Czech-accented man. Jealous isn't even in his very extensive vocabulary, he has no idea when or why you dreamed of this completely fictitious scenario. He wouldn't try and gaslight you that it never happened, but he is petty enough to get selective hearing when it comes to mentions of it

For the first time since...ever, Viktor is home before the sun goes down. To say it catches you off guard is an understatement, so unused to the doorknob jiggling before the wee hours of the morning, you had a knife in your hand before you heard his keys in the door. You had been making dinner, and the smell alone makes his heart skip a beat. He hardly ever gets a warm dinner and for a minute, he deeply regrets being in his lab all the time. He slides off his shoes and loosens his tie as he pads over to you in the kitchen, wrapping one hand around your waist and the other gripping the counter for support. "You're home early.", you chirp, turning around to face him to peck his lips. "I was just making dinner, you want a taste?" Though he would never say no to that, you already have the spoon to his lips with a hand under to catch anything that might fall before he can even answer. He indulges, of course, and as the warm liquid soothes his throat, he hates that lab even more. Soup is one thing; but warm soup is to die for. "It's delicious, tchotchke." You smile as you turn back around. "Any reason you're home so early." He looks back the new ceiling fan you called Jayce over to put up and lets out a sardonic chuckle. He understands why you called him; he'd need to get on a ladder to put it up and have to abandon his cane for however long it took to hold the thing up and take care of the wiring. He wouldn't be able to balance himself and if he came down, the fan was coming down with him, probably on top of him. And yet, he still would've rather done it himself than you call Jayce to do it. "Yes, but it's admittedly a very stupid reason." You cannot fathom this. You remove the pot from the stove and onto a folded cloth on your counter and desert the stove. "Did something happen?" And he can't handle the look of concern on your face over something he knows to be trivial. "It's just that..." when he realizes he can't put it off any longer, he sighs. "I got jealous of Jayce." Had it not been for the serious look on your face, you would've burst into laughter. Those words had never fallen out of his mouth in that order before. "I know it's absurd, but it started when he put the fan up and it bothered me more than it should. I don't like that there are some things I can't do around the house, and it's been this way my whole life, but it's different with him. He's just always "the guy" and I hate the thought of him being "the guy" to you. It's irrational and a leap in logic, I know, but I hate it." And even better than pity, you just smile at him. In a way it's better that you want to laugh at him, he wants to laugh at him too. The thought of Jayce replacing him is maybe even more of an impossibility for you than it is for him. "So, next time I should just call a guy." He chuckles. "Yes, please."

☼Mel☼

☼I feel like she would be very calm about her jealousy, but also have a slight inclination to anger, albeit a silent one. She doesn't fear the betrayal of a potential cheating, but rather the embarrassment. If she were to see you get too chummy with someone, rather than approach you, she would watch from afar to see what you'd do. This is also a big reason why she usually doesn't take action herself; you never disappoint her when it comes to letting people know you're taken.

☼She is a bit clingier when jealous, but more than that she would insist on doing more couple things together. If she feels it is not known enough, she will make it known that the two of you are together. This often means gifts like expensive jewelry that only she could afford you, a new outfit that conveniently matches with one of hers, or even just letting you borrow bags or earrings of hers. It's her way of scenting you almost. She's too classy to try and "stake her claim" in a more showy way, so she does it in a more inconspicuous way.

Waking up alone wasn't something you were completely unused to. Mel was a very busy woman, and you were content with the nights you had together and rare mornings. These mornings were made extra bearable when you woke to a box on your nightstand, wrapped in a silk ribbon with a note in your girlfriend's handwriting slipped under the bow. 'From my heart, to my darling', it read, a lipstick mark beneath where she had signed her name with an elegant flick of her wrist. Perhaps just as eager to be opened as you were to open it, the ribbon fell loose as you gently picked up the box. It was too small to be a dress and too large to be a ring but large enough to contain maybe a fancy watch or a necklace, but judging by her unusually clingy demeanor last night, you had a feeling you could pretty accurately guess what was inside the ornate jewelry box. Unsurprisingly, within it lay a gold and pearl necklace, pearls that must’ve been rare due to their black hue rather than their usually pale pearlescent coloring.  The chain felt light in your hand, the heaviest part sinking into your palm as you stared at. Your first initial and an M. No matter which way it was taken, the M to be her first name or her last, the possessive message was clear, not that you minded. Mels smile was bright when she saw you for the first time that day, and even brighter when she saw what decorated your neck. She excused herself from the councilmember she was talking to before walking over to you, practically gliding on air. She takes your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist then your knuckles then pulls you by your hand into her. "I take it you're enjoying your gift?" Your hand still in hers, she spins you, taking you in at all angles for the first time that day. "It's beautiful, but I can't help but wonder what inspired the decision." She knows you know exactly how she works, and she doesn't mind admitting she's jealous. "Am I wrong to give my pretty girl a gift?", she says, mocking the comment you received last night. She rolls her eyes and her face gives away her impending rant. "Am I wrong to give a pretty girl a compliment? I still can't believe he said that to you last night. He only did it to piss me off, you know." You bite your lip to hide your laughter, but it eventually slips from you. "I hope I'm more entertaining than Salo was last night." She can't even feign annoyance, not with the sound of your laughter filling her ears and her name around your neck. She laughs herself, with how much the two of you talk shit about the man, you'd think anything he did could never affect her, but she had been biting her tongue since last night. "Shall I list to you all the ways you're better than Salo?" She waves the idea off nonchalantly. "No, my darling, I should hope I never need an ego boost that desperately."

☼You would definitely get jealous far more often than she does. She's gorgeous, smart, well spoken, rich and affluent, and perfection embodied in a person, there is much to be jealous of. Especially as someone who is on the council where part of the job is being great at sweet talk, I feel like you would get your feelings hurt sometimes. You catch more flies with honey, and she may be the sweetest honey there is. She does tease you for your jealousy though, she finds it utterly adorable.

☼She wouldn't allow you to be jealous long. She is very good at reading you and your emotions, she seems to always know exactly how you're feeling. You couldn't even hide it from her if you tried, she'll always find a way to corner you and help you talk your feelings through. She tries very hard to make sure that you can never question who she loves the most.  

[balteredsworld]

my mistake. gregory house

🩺🥼 | you should've known better, but you don't. you were pathetically in love with house.

masterlist: greg house n all

warnings! age gap, office (?) romance, angst, fellow!reader, doc!reader, stageplay style format, lyrics sprinkled

you bite back tears.

house. (mockingly) are you gonna cry?

you. no, something counterfeit's dead. nothing to cry about.

he's staring at you with half squinted eyes, scoffing without reprieve, somehow colder than ice.

house. right... the fact that you have to say that proves there's something to cry about. so, what is it? what did you think it was?

you look away, blinking like you were guilty. a patronizing look's settled on house's face now. gears turning in eyes when he realizes you were stupid enough to get lovestruck in between casual banter and sex, and nights spent in the nook of this godforsaken office talking; tittering about more and less.

he drawls out in theatrical mortification.

house. oh god. i must really be that good. never realized i could dick you down into being lovestruck. oops!

his voice echoes in your head.

idiot, it's just sex.

house doesn't need to spell it out for you. you gave into an illusion that isn't, that wouldn't, and that couldn't. it was a girlish fantasy to think you could have it with him. yet, you clung onto some sliver of hope that he could transter his aptitude to his feelings and articulate those gentlemanly gestures into spoken words, and not fleeting silent declarations that were destined for the abyss. you suppose that the two of you will follow that fate. must be the law of entropy, or some other law of physics that house had mentioned in passing in your briefings.

you nod numbly, tongue retaliating without second thought. you could match him if he wanted. house isn't the be-all and end-all he pretends to be.

you. yeah, you fucked me so good i almost said three words.

house throws his head back, dissatisfied.

house. that's not an answer.

your brow shoots up, accusingly.

you. oh! you want an answer! i thought you'd already come up with that on your own minutes ago.

you know he wants a definite answer, unsatisfied being kept in the unknown. only, you know he only wants you to say what he already knows. he just wants the confirmation like a stupid autopsy.

you. what do you want me to say house? i don't know what you want me to say.

he barks.

house. you caught feelings! i don't know what you want me to do with that!

you. acknowledge them, house! like a normal fucking human being!

house sighs, licking his lips in careful consideration.

house. i'm too old for you. baseline feelings are just baseline. what you want is all the domestic crap that you know i can't give you. you're a doctor. i'd be a mistake.

you. then be my mistake! if you're so convinced you'll break my heart, break my heart. prove your hypothesis.

he blinks. your words hang heavy, waiting for something to come out of his lips. anything to put you out of your misery, but he doesn't.

you. (barely in a whisper) i'm offering my heart to you.

house. you...

you. be my mistake, house.

you eye him desperately, slowly faltering.

you. please.

but again, he doesn't say anything, merely standing with gaping eyes. you stay a moment longer, before you resign yourself pathetically.

house. you'll make me worse.

your brows crinkle.

you. what?

house. (slowly) you'll make me worse. you'll make me care, caring's for idiots. it's ordinary.

you blink, looking at him incredulously.

house. i can't be worse, l/n. i'm already bad. if i start caring, i'll be making myself a worse doctor. i can't be worse. i need to diagnose.

you. you're scared to jump ship because you'll do a bad job?

your words and tone are like his. you echo him down to the furrow of your brow. house sees that alarmingly.

you. you think that caring makes you ordinary? house, there's nothing ordinary about you! you're this god-like hotshot doctor who's always right, even if you're a jerk, you're right.

his eyes soften.

house. (musing) all the more reason to listen to me.

you. take a chance, house. otherwise tell me you don't care. say that i'm pathetic and we can forget about this.

house doesn't say anything, eyes steeling in contemplation. you wait, but he doesn't move. they were right. house isn't willing to sacrifice and compromise his objectivity for you. you'd read him wrong.

you swallow.

you. i understand.

you turn to leave, swallowing your nerve for the sake of your dignity. you'd thought that all those looks meant something, that sex wasn't just sex. but you're an idiot. you could say that for him.

it doesn't take a medical license to know that. even one of the fools in the er would know.

house leans on his table. the lamp casts a handsome shadow on his face, making his grey stubble glitter slightly. there's a totally grave look on his face. it's easier to be mean, but he holds his tongue for you.

house. i can't give you what you want.

you spare him a look, already by the door.

you. i don't want anything. just you.

somehow, you find the strength to chuckle, albeit weakly. it does nothing to lift the discomfort between the two of you.

you. but hey, it's just sex, right?

you try to appreciate his effort. he's never just mean, it's a shiny veneer he designed to shoo people away. underneath that, he's the most considerate man you've ever met.

but you can't. it would be easier if he was just plain mean, because at least you didn't have to know that he was lying to himself.

house. i... i'm sorry.

you. (solemnly) don't be. see you tomorrow.

instead of a silly apology, you rather him just call you pathetic. but you can't always get what you want, just like how house can't let himself say the words he's been saying to you with those infuriating eyes of his. but the two of you were destined to the same abyss those silent declarations vanished to.

it was never nothing, but the pain in his leg would never let him say that. he's convinced himself that he'll drag you to misery, so he watches you leave to see you in the morning like you'd been nothing more.

you end up his mistake either way.

[mylifesjustacarousel]

sleeping beauty

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: you and book have kept your relationship a secret for quite some time, or at least you think… what happens when a certain someone finds out?

type: fluff, then angst, then fluff

CW: suggestive moments

WC: 1.9K

requests are open!

“What if someone sees us, James?”

“Don’t worry, no one ever comes over here this late at night, my love.” he whispered, leading you over to a small patch of grass to sit down. The Enchanted Lake was your not-so-secret, secret meeting spot. It was busy during the day with students swimming and lounging around, but it was like a graveyard at night. Hook sat down on the ground, grabbing your hand and pulling you down onto his lap.

You grinned, resting your arms on his shoulders. “Okay, but if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

He put his hand to his heart, a dramatically pained look on his face. “Ouch, hurtful. I thought you loved me.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you beyond words, J.”

Hook rest his forehead against yours, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

The two of you had been dating for a few months, but nobody knew about it. He was a villain, you were a royal. Your relationship was the definition of a bad idea. So, it was safer, mostly for you, if the two of you kept your relationship a secret. If the rest of the VKs found out, they would make your life absolutely miserable. You didn’t mind keeping a secret, but there were definitely days where you wished that you could be with him in public.

“I missed you today, darling.”

“You wouldn’t have to miss me if we didn’t have to keep hiding around. We could be together, whenever we wanted…” You pressed gentle kisses to his neck, trying to be convincing. It worked… sometimes.

“And let Uli make your life awful? I don’t think so. I love my friends, but I love you more.”

You huffed, pulling away from him. “She doesn’t scare me, James. Her bark is much worse than her bite.”

“Listen, y/n.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that your chests were pressed together. “You know how much I love you, and I would love nothing more than to show my girl off. But, she would kill you if she had the choice, and I would not be able to forgive myself if something bad happened to you. Okay?”

Unfortunately, he did have a point. No matter how frustrated or upset you got, you knew that he was trying to be protective. “Okay, okay. Fine.” you mumbled, “But, someone is going to find out eventually.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, my beauty.”

“Uli is going to love this.” Maleficent smirked, looking at the two boys, Hades and Morgie, standing behind her. They had followed Hook to the Enchanted Lake after noticing that Hook disappeared at the same time almost every single night for the past few months. “Do we have to tell Uliana? I have Honors Enchanting with y/n, she’s really nice-”

“Morgie, honey, shut up.” she growled, nudging him with her shoulder. “We’ve seen enough. Let’s go, boys.” She snapped her fingers, walking away with the two boys following behind her.

Uliana was sat in her lair when the group of three walked in. She sat up, “So? What did you find out?”

“He’s dating y/n! That one royal who hangs out with the nice cupcake girl!” Morgie exclaimed, earning a shove from Maleficent. “They go to the Enchanted Lake. It’s sickening, seeing them be all… lovey dovey.”

“Hey!” Hades grumbled.

“I didn’t say that we’re sickening. Why do you always have to-”

“Shut up!” Uliana got up, going over to them. “Thank you, Morgie. You.” She pointed to Maleficent. “Do you still have that spell book? I need you to conjure up something for Hook’s little beauty.”

“Like what? Turn her into a monster? Make birds peck her eyes out? Ooh, prick her with a thousand thorns?”

Uliana’s eyes lit up. “That’s it. Hook wants a beauty? We’ll give him one. A sleeping beauty.”

“I’ve got just the thing. She won’t know what hit her.”

“Bye, Bridget! Let’s get together tomorrow to study, yeah?” you asked. “You’ve got it. Hey! Do you wanna come over tonight and help me bake?”

“I would love to, B, but I have a date-” you froze. No one can know. “I have a date with my textbooks! You know how hard those Enchanting exams are.” you laughed nervously, hoping she wouldn’t catch your fault.

Bridget just gave you a smile, unaware of your slip up. “Yeah, of course! I’ll see you tomorrow then!” She gave you a tight squeeze before parting ways.

You started to walk to your dorm building to get ready for your date with Hook that was later that evening. When you arrived to your room, there was a note waiting for you on your bed, along with a single red rose. You picked up the note to read it.

For you, my beauty. I can’t wait to see you tonight - J

You picked up the rose, cursing to yourself as you pricked your finger on one of the many thorns. Within seconds, your body felt heavy and your eyelids were begging for you to shut them. You hesitated before laying down on your bed, and within seconds you were sound asleep, unaware of anything happening around you.

Hook was waiting for you at the Enchanted Lake. Ten minutes went by, then half an hour. He started to get worried, pacing around nervously. It wasn’t like you to be late, in fact, you were the type to always arrive early because “being on time is being late.”

When an hour went by and you still weren’t there, Hook went off to go find you. Thoughts were racing through his head, and they weren’t good ones. He made his way to your dorm room and banged on your door. “Y/n? Are you there?”

No response.

He huffed, looking around to make sure that no one saw him before going into your room. Hook let out a sigh of relief when he saw you peacefully sleeping on your bed. You must’ve been tired and just… fell asleep.

“Baby girl?” He whispered. Sitting on the edge of your bed, he gently shook your shoulder. “You know I’m not upset, right?”

No response.

Hook shook your shoulder harder. “Darling, this isn’t funny anymore.” He looked around, seeing a piece of paper at the end of your bed. He picked it up, and suddenly all of the puzzle pieces came together.

Uliana.

He tossed the note aside, storming out of your room. How did she find out? You two had been beyond careful. “I’m going to kill her.” Hook grumbled.

“You think this is some silly little joke, Uli?” Hook shouted as he stormed into the lair. Uliana cackled. “Oh, Hook, did you think I wouldn’t find out? Who do you think you are? Sneaking off with a royal every night? You’re pathetic!”

“I’m pathetic? You put a spell on my girlfriend because you don’t like when other people are happy!”

“Actually the spell was me.” Maleficent said, joining the two. “Yeah, I caught you two on one of your little dates. How about next time, you pick somewhere a little more secretive, genius?”

He lunged at Maleficent. “I’m going to kill you, you witch!”

Uliana rolled her eyes, pushing him back easily with her tentacle. “Come on, James-y, we’re just having some fun. You used to love terrorizing people. She ruined you.”

“No, I think she actually changed me, and for the better. I love her, more than your cold heart could ever comprehend. Why are you so afraid of love?” he asked.

“Afraid of love? Oh please,” she scoffed, “I don’t need love when everyone fears me, Hook.”

“How do I fix it? How? How do I break the spell?” he asked, almost begging.

Maleficent snickered. “You love her sooo much, you’ll figure it out. Eventually.”

“Now, shoo. You’re no longer needed here. Oh, by the way, this isn’t over.” Uliana said.

Hook made his way back to your dorm, silently racking his brain on how to break the spell. He wasn’t the smartest, but he had to figure out something. “Stupid Uliana, stupid Mali…” he grumbled.

“Hook? James Hook? What’re you doing here?” a voice asked. He turned around, locking eyes with Bridget. “What do you want?” he sneered.

“Um, I went to y/n’s room to see how her studying was doing? She said she had a date with…” She trailed off, mentally putting the pieces together. “She had a date with you! You two are together? That’s sweet!”

Hook rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay! Yes, we are together. Yes, it is sweet. But, it doesn’t really matter, because she was put under a sleeping spell and I don’t know how to break it-” he rambled on. Bridget giggled a bit, watching him pace around.

“Do you think this is funny, you prissy pink princess?” he snapped, getting in her face.

“No, no! You don’t know how to break a sleeping spell?” she asked.

“You don’t know how to break a sleeping spell?” he mocked, “Of course I don’t know how to break a sleeping spell! Who do I look like?”

Bridget giggled again, taking his arm and leading him back to your room, where you were still peacefully asleep. “True loves kiss. Everybody knows that. Okay, um, I’ll leave you to it. Tell her to meet up with me tomorrow.” She gave him a wave before skipping off.

He sighed, sitting down next to you. “If this doesn’t work, I’m killing that girl,” he mumbled, referring to Bridget. He moved your hair out of your face, just admiring your soft features for a few seconds. He truly thought that you were the most perfect girl ever.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, a wave of nervousness hitting him as he pulled away. What if it didn’t work? What if he wasn’t your one true love? He sat there, his heart dropping into his stomach when you still were asleep after a few seconds.

You suddenly sat up, your eyes shooting open. “What happened?” you asked, looking around with confusion. Hook tackled you in a hug, peppering kisses all over your face. “Oh my god, I missed you! I missed you so much!”

“Where did I go?” You leaned into his touch, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s a long story. I’m just… I love you so much, darling, and I don’t want to hide you anymore. I love you. I love you. I love you. You are my true love, and I am so sorry for ever taking you for granted.”

“Did I die or something?” you joked, looking up at him. There was nothing but sincerity in his deep brown eyes. “I love you too, J… Does this mean that you’ll finally wear the sweater that I made for you?”

“No, but I’ll tell people that you made a sweater for me.”

“I’ll take it!” You kissed him sweetly, running your fingers through his hair.

“By the way, Bridget told me to tell you to meet up with her tomorrow.” he mumbled against your lips. You pulled away, your brow raised. “You talked to Bridget? Are you okay? Do you have a fever?” You pressed the back of your hand to his forehead.

Hook rolled his eyes, slapping your hand away. “Like I said, it’s a long story. Now, where were we?” He pulled you into another kiss, reaching over to turn your lamp off that was sitting on your nightstand.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i’m sorry if it seemed really rushed, i was racking my brain trying to figure out the plot

[butchreg]

puppy ! regressor caitlyn kiramman headcanons !!

requested by anon. i see caitlyn as more of a bunny or kitty regressor but why can't she be a puppy too ? also i've decided that i'll turn anons back on once i've gotten through all the requests that i have. if another meanie tries something again i might turn them back off but :3.

as typical for me this post contains he/him vi ! if that's not your thing that's okay but hate / transphobia will be blocked. arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

she's a pretty quiet pup but she follows vi around wherever he goes. she's not exactly the most threatening pup, her bark is worse than her bite but vi lets her think she's his guard dog.

puppy ! caitlyn who wears a collar with a tag that says "if lost return to mama" with vi's contact information and she's soo proud of it ! she loves the way her tags jangle as she walks, she'll stim that way sometimes !

everyone knows she's vi's puppy, sometimes people will give him little treats or toys to give to caitlyn, and people are always asking him about her. he's always happy to chat about his pup !

she's a very obedient pup, definitely a good girl, keeping her nose out of trouble. she's always there when jayce or vi calls. imagine vi coming home from a long day, patting his knees and calling for caitlyn. "yoohooo, where's caiti?" caitlyn comes running immediately, tags jangling as she runs towards vi, jumping up on him excitedly, licking his face like a real puppy would. this makes vi giggle, gently pushing her away because her licks tickle.

caitlyn will only get loud if she's left alone for too long, especially when she misses vi. she's a very loyal girl and after all she's only little, a few hours feels even longer when you're so small. she starts out with a few soft whimpers, maybe a few experimental yips. before long though she's howling, sobs wracking her body. she only stops when she's tired herself out, sobs and howls subsiding back to small whimpers. vi is heartbroken when he comes back to find cait curled up asleep on the floor, eyes swollen from crying. he pampers his baby, apologizing over and over again when she wakes up.

vi getting jinx to make caitlyn a custom dog bed which excites her so much !!! jinx pretends to be annoyed and uncomfortable when caitlyn hugs her but she can't contain a smile. vi taking so many pictures of cait in her little bed, cait so deeply regressed all she can do is babble and yip quietly.

vi and jayce getting the brilliant idea of teaching puppy ! cait tricks... it would be so chaotic Flop Duo cheering and yelling every time she does anything, feeding her too many treats because they can't get over what a cutie she is.

vi tying a little bow to caitlyn's collar, kissing her head telling her what a pretty little puppy she is.

caitlyn isn't the most playful pup, she's very laid back and calm, but she Loves squeaky toys. if someone is to squeak one around her she gets a bit rowdy until she has it in her mouth. she may even try to tug it out of their hands, though vi scolds her gently for this.

caitlyn being one of those silly puppies who does Not stop chewing on her squeaky toy even after it's sound has gotten super annoying for everyone else. being autistic she struggles to pick up on this, especially when she's so engrossed in her toy.

adding a picture of what i think her ears look like :3 i imagine her tail to have a bow as well.

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

dating headcanons

main 4 + butters

— ♡

stan

— definitely the type to bully you but loves you to death

— constantly posting you on social media

— you need him? he’s already there actually he’s been hiding in your walls

— gets super in his head a lot, requires a lot of reassurance & affection

— SUPER FUCKING PROTECTIVE

— some dude’s making you uncomfortable? his hand’s on your shoulder and he’s ready to beat the shit out of him

— the silent but deadly type

— basically no one fucks w his s/o

— but super duper soft

— sticky as fuck

— you thought kenny was a physical touch kinda guy? stan is 10 times worse

— constantly holding your hand or lacing your pinkies together

— prefers quiet nights in over nights out 100%

— movie nights are his absolute fav he loves the cliche holding hands in popcorn thing

— a bit of an alcoholic but never an angry drunk, he’ll be constantly up your ass blubbering about how much he loves you

— “your eyes are so pretty and your face is so pretty and i love your hair like that and how do you smell so good”

kyle

— if he were an anime character he’d be a tsundere for sure

— dislikes pda but in private he has no problem being affectionate

— is super awkward around you, doesn’t really know how to talk to you or how to act

— also prefers quiet nights in but in a totally different way

— would much rather read a book with your legs in his lap than watch a movie

— one phone call away tho don’t get him wrong

— if you need him he’s immediately on his way no questions asked

— very very very very protective

— also the type to hover behind you but the second you give him the go ahead he’s running his mouth

— all bark but also a super gnarly bite

— also super jealous and kind of insecure

— you’re his first real relationship so he’s always scared someone’s gonna steal you away

— the type to give you massages and ask you about your day

— domestic housewife fs, always cooking for you and making sure your house is clean

— always leaves sweet notes for you to wake up to but will never acknowledge them

— overall such a sweetheart, would do anything for you but is a stickler on saying the l word

— thinks it loses its sparkle if it’s said too much

kenny

— sticky horny bastard

— always cuddled up to you or holding your hand or kissing you

— big fan of pda

— if he’s not touching you and he’s in your presence someone’s getting hurt

— loves partying but also loves quality time with you

— would totally go out if you wanted but also would curl up in bed with you if you weren’t feeling it

— always eager to please you

— he’s like a dog, at your beck and call, awaiting your orders

— but don’t touch his s/o or he’ll go nuts

— not really the jealous type but definitely the possessive type

— like he doesn’t get worked up about someone hitting on you, he knows you’re fine as fuck, but the second someone tries to touch you his arms are around you and he’s kissing you

— very much a gentleman

— he makes very misogynistic comments about your body but ultimately you’re a queen and you should never have to lift a finger

— always worshipping the ground you walk on

— definitely a stoner

— giggles at everything you do when he’s high and 100% smokes you out every chance he gets

— he just loves you so much he’d literally combust

eric

— isn’t really one for affection, private or public

— definitely runs his mouth to you

— but the second you get upset he’s crying begging you to stop being mad rubbing your feet

— a messy bitch for sure

— always stirring up drama in the friend group and sitting back watching it all go down with you

— would definitely scheme with you about starting beef

— views you as his queen but treats you as an equal (which is huge for him because everyone is below him)

— hates seeing you cry and would easily tell off whichever son of a bitch did it

— but also wouldn’t hesitate to bully you to the verge of tears

— makes up for it by offering you some of his cheesy poofs

— unspoken acts of affection for sure

— hates going out

— he’d much rather watch a comedy movie and shit on the plot with you

— the type to act like he hates you around his friends but the second you’re in a private setting he’s reminding you that he loves you

— possessive, jealous, protective, the big 3

— kind of like a chihuahua, all bark no bite

— probably also low key an alcoholic but never drunk to the point of being a lovey dovey bitch

butters

— the sweetest boyfriend ever

— panics every time you cry or are upset in any way

— even if he’s grounded he’ll still find a way to talk to you

— if there’s a screen there’s a way

— doesn’t really fall into any category

— kind of just exists, way too happy that you’re dating him to notice anything else

— the type to post you on every social media platform he has

— would shout from the rooftops about how much he loves you

— very acts of service

— would do anything you asked as long as you were happy

— gives you back rubs every night

— sleeps with his head on your chest because he loves to listen to your heartbeat

— physical touch too

— loves holding your hand and caressing your cheeks

— stares at you for hours like “wow i can’t believe my s/o is this perfect”

— makes sure your needs are taken care of before his

— constantly texting you to remind you that he loves you and that you’re perfect in every way

— good morning and goodnight paragraphs even if you live together

— loves you to the moon and back and wants everyone to know it

[inoreuct]

been thinking about asura zoro lately.

possibly a prince sanji au where sora’s kicked her shitstain of an ex-husband out of the kingdom and his siblings are going through behavioural therapy,,,

at any rate, sanji’s wandering across the grounds one afternoon and he sees someone sitting beneath his favourite apple tree in the middle of the field. he thinks it’s yonji at first, but no— the hair’s too short and the wrong shade of green. less neon than his brother’s electric lime and more like… moss.

the man has one leg propped up with his arm resting on his knee, an apple clutched loosely in his hand. he turns as the grass rustles with sanji’s steps and sanji notes the vertical scar over his left eye that cuts through his brow and down his cheek. “you’re in my spot.”

“hm,” the man says, completely unbothered. he lifts the apple to take a bite and his open robe shifts with the wind, the hilts of the three swords tucked into his sash knocking gently against each other.

sanji narrows his eyes. “move.”

a slow, lazy grin. “no.”

“you—!” the prince is just about ready to boot this guy in the ass. “you do realise who i am, don’t you?”

“no,” the man repeats, shrugging a shoulder and peering down at his apple before taking another bite.

that gives sanji pause. everybody knows who he is. it’s inescapable— queen sora’s kindest son, with the golden hair and a heart to match. ocean eyes and the hands of a chef and legs steadier than any sailor’s. he has a duty to fulfil and an image to uphold, and it’s—

well. it’s just that sometimes, he thinks that he wasn’t made for this life at all— that he was meant to be out there, on the ocean, skipping over the waves with the wind in his hair and the sun on his brow, feeling the grit of sand between his teeth. he has satisfied himself with the comforts of royal life, with the orchards and the kitchens, but something pulls at him still. it tugs his heart towards the coast and whispers for him to shed the courtly graces he wears as tangibly as the cloak over his shoulders.

sanji is quiet as he reaches up, swallowing over the soft click of the clasp before red velvet falls into his hand. he drops it to the grass and lets it pool, puts one palm on the ground before settling against worn, rough bark and letting the pattern press into the skin of his spine.

“it’s peaceful here.” the man’s voice is low, slipping beneath the soft sigh of wind. “quiet.”

“it hadn’t always been,” sanji says, before he can stop himself. he has no reason to be doing this— to be saying anything at all, much less sitting down. he should be yelling for the guards and then taking this guy out himself. he’s a stranger who’d somehow made it onto royal grounds, through the extensive defences they had; one with three swords and scars, sanji reminds himself as he eyes the gnarly line of pearly tissue running diagonally down the man’s chest. he’s, by all definitions, a threat.

and yet, sanji hasn’t felt anything at all. no hostility, no fear— just… stillness, if he had to put a word to it. a sort of calm.

“the king… he was cruel,” he continues softly. “he treated my siblings and i like lab rats to be used. my mother was nothing more than a pretty thing to fill a space beside him. this palace, this kingdom used to be filled with war and pain and noise.” sanji chances a glance up to find the man already looking at him, and he quickly looks away. “sometimes, he’d come back from war stinking of blood and death. even worse was when he’d bring my siblings with him. he forced them to fight, see— didn’t even give them a choice, because of his experiments.”

the words are bitter as he spits them out, and sanji feels his hair bunch when he tilts his head back against the tree and blows out a breath. “i was always the failure.” the grass is damp with dew as he rubs a few blades between his fingers. “the weak one. the useless one. and i was the one who dragged him outside the city gates and told him that if i ever saw him again i’d take his head.”

he’s no longer as angry about it, he thinks. sanji has spent enough of his life being angry. the thought just carries a muted tone now, satisfied and a little victorious but also resigned— sometimes he looks at fathers in the squares and the markets, carrying their children on their shoulders and indulging them in the smallest of things, overpriced candy and tag on the dusty cobblestones, and his eyes burn. he should have had that. he never did, and he never will.

sanji lets his eyebrows flash up, swallowing against the tightness in his chest. “i don’t know why i’m telling you all this, anyway,” he says with a light, forced laugh. “i don’t even know who the hell you are.”

“nobody important,” the man hums. “not yet. but one day i’ll be the greatest swordsman in the world.”

the prince believes it. he feels something now, at least— a presence of sorts, like pressure from all sides, present but not pushing. just there. “i think… i want to get out of here.”

again, he doesn’t know why he says it. he has the urge to slap a hand over his mouth as soon as he does, in fact. because everything’s fine now, everything’s finally going well; judge is gone, his siblings are safe, his mother is safe, and he should be happy. he is happy. he gets to cook all he wants and he’s—

he’s not. he’s not happy. he wants to go, wants to— to grab a boat and disappear, sail to the edge of the horizon and then beyond. it aches in his chest like someone’s squeezing his heart, fingertips digging into tough muscle, and he rubs the heel of his hand through the fine weave of his shirt.

the man bites into his apple again, and the crisp crunch cuts through the still air. sanji lets his eyes slip shut.

“where do you want to go?” the man asks.

sanji laughs, a soundless exhale. “the all blue. it’s an ocean with every kind of fish you could imagine and then some. i want to open a restaurant. a place of my own where nobody will ever go hungry.”

a pause, and then the man turns to look at him. “do you know why i’m here?”

“no.” sanji cracks an eye open, sighing impatiently. “why?”

“the change. all this place has known for years was turmoil and war and chaos. and then suddenly… it all went silent.” he eyes sanji unreadably. “somebody took notice.”

somebody, huh? if sanji’s dealing with a religious nutcase, he might just burst into laughter. or knock this guy out. maybe both. “you believe in god, then?”

“no,” the man says flatly. “and even if one did exist, they didn’t help you then. they won’t help you now.”

the blonds’s eyes narrow as he sits up straight and slowly raises an eyebrow. “if that’s supposed to be a threat, mosshead, i’m not scared of you.”

“mosshead?!” the other splutters, the first sign of real human emotion sanji’s seen on him, and sanji laughs.

“it fits!”

“it’s—”

“blasphemous? disrespectful?” sanji teases, somehow more at ease than he’s felt in ages. he doesn’t know who this man is, and who he is doesn’t matter— he’s free to run his mouth, and he damn well will.

“you should be scared of me, you know,” the man says, voice gritty, and sanji smirks.

“why so?”

and— oh.

that presence from before increases exponentially, until he feels sweat bead beneath his collar. dirt gathers beneath his fingernails as he scrabbles backwards, instinctive, throat bobbing as he counts three, four, six arms, and three heads, and three grey eyes glinting like watered steel. wind whips through the clearing, shaking the branches of the tree— sanji reminds himself to close his mouth as he sits beneath the rustling, as black tendrils of shadow snake through the air, swelling around the man’s silhouette, silky and molten. it’s not just that overwhelming, omnipresent aura; he’s got to be two heads taller than a normal man at least.

sanji’s breath is stuck in his throat. and then he looks down; that half-eaten apple is still there, shiny and red. the man’s swords — nine of them, now — clatter gently by his hips, and his earrings jingle with something that almost sounds like gentle laughter, and his hair is still impossibly green.

“…is this supposed to be intimidating?” he offers, climbing to his feet with a bored cock of his hip. “i mean, it’s impressive and all, mossy, don’t get me wrong, but—”

the man’s form snaps back to normal in an instant, leaving him with an almost comical look of disbelief on his face. “you’re fuckin’ crazy.”

“i’m traumatised,” sanji corrects, cackling. “after my bastard of a sperm donor, i doubt i could be scared of much else. besides, you haven’t done anything but talk to me. that’s a lot more kindness than most people can say they’ve shown.”

he watches the emotions flash across the man’s face like a play-by-play until his strong features finally settle on something not dissimilar to determination. “we’re going.”

“huh?” the sudden subject change throws him. “where?”

“the all blue,” is the impatient answer as the stranger crosses his arms. “didn’t you say you wanted to go?”

“yes, but—” sanji makes a series of exasperated noises as he tries to find his words. “i can’t just— go! i have responsibilities, i need to—”

“you need to be free,” the man grunts, and sanji stops short. “can’t keep a bird caged and expect it to be happy.”

the prince bites his lip, heart pounding. this is crazy. this is insane, it’s how kidnappings happen, he shouldn’t even he considering this. “…if, even if we were to go— how would we get there? how would we even find it?”

“we’ll figure it out?” the man pins him with a look that says duh, like it’s no big deal. “i know a witch who’s a navigator, she owes me a favour. and a guy who works in a shipyard. it’ll work.” he looks like he’s about to start tapping his foot, but then his expression softens. “one day,” he says, eyes skating across sanji’s face. “we go for one day, sunrise to sundown, and if you don’t like it i’ll bring you right back.”

sanji’s chest aches. his breath trembles against his teeth. “why?”

his stranger swallows, gaze tilting down as his fingers drift to the hilt of the white sword by his side, like it’s a comfort. “you aren’t scared of me.” his eye is a flash of silver as he looks up again, bottled starlight and iron. “maybe that’s more kindness than i’m usually shown, too.”

maybe sanji’s losing his mind. maybe he’d lost it a long time ago. because he finds himself nodding slowly and breathing, “okay.”

a sharp, sure nod. “we leave tomorrow. settle your affairs and meet me down by the beach at dawn.”

“alright.”

sanji watches the man turn and amble away, in no apparent, rush, before a thought strikes him. “wait!”

green hair shifts in the sunlight as he twists back around, one scarred palm by his ear. “hah?”

“what’s your name?” sanji yells across the clearing, and the smile that’s sent his way is blinding.

“meet me and i’ll tell you, curls!” the man yells back, and then he’s gone. just— disappears, like he’d been a figment of imagination.

an apple core tips against sanji’s ankle, pale and clean.

(sora takes one look at his face when he asks and lets him go.

“you’d always been restless,” she tells him gently, as she helps him pack his things into a burlap satchel and sets his spice tins carefully into their case. she says he’d been loud even as a baby, wailing right out of the womb with eyes the blue of cornflowers and summer skies and the water, riotous and gentle and vast like his heart.

she sends him off with a kiss to his forehead, hands cupping his face as she smiles against his skin, and this time sanji welcomes the burn in his eyes.

he finds zoro by the beach like something out of a fairytale, skin bronzed in the light of a new day, glowing with the orange dancing off the waves. he has a boat waiting, barely big enough for two, wrist draped over his sword hilts as he yawns and scratches at his head, and sanji grins so hard his face hurts.

his palms on the lip of sealed wood have his heart pounding hard enough to feel it against his ribs, his shoes sinking into the sand as they push the dinghy out to sea and jump on, and he shoves his hand in the water just because he can.

“zoro,” the man says abruptly, two extra shadows framing him in the sunrise like a mirage, and sanji’s lips curl up at the edge. “that’s my name.”

“okay, mossy,” he sing-songs, and bites down a laughing scream when zoro rocks the boat so hard he nearly falls out.

he does tell zoro his name, when he decides that he’ll stay. they’re still on their little boat; it’s sunset now, and the green-haired man is taking up all the space in his other form, stretched out with his hands folded behind his head. “i’m sanji, by the way,” he offers, offhand, and watches zoro crack an eye open to grunt in acknowledgment.

he pretends not to see the soft smile that the other man flips over to hide. zoro hardly ends up using it anyway, the brute.

sanji really doesn’t mind.)

[deadghosy]

More platonic Sebastian but with male mc? Im dying for a brotherly bond. Mc owning a shop in hogsmead now and we need to know Seb’s and Ominis’s reactions.

PLATONIC SEBASTIAN X MALE MC HEADCANNONS

Brotherly hang outs at hogmeade. He makes sure you get your order correct before he orders his own food.

The type of brotherly friend to dust your cloaks before you head out of the dorm. He does not want his newest brother friend looking like he came out of a wild dumpster.

He teaches you spells his knows. He likes the feeling of him being a wonderful teacher while you are his student. Makes him feel prideful.

Protective as he would hold his chin up high when someone tries to aggravate you. He’s simply pushing them away, his bark is far more worse than his bite. But it could be level out in a nice balance.

Sebastian having his arm wrapped your shoulder in a friendly matter when he gets to see you after an exhausting class lecture. Hell, he even gives you head noogies. He finds it amusing when you scold him for messing up your hair.

Imagine this, imagine you are tired after a trial and come to the common room to only sleep on the couch. Sebastian walks in looking for you only to see that you are sleeping on the couch. His eyes soften, taking off his cloak he puts it on you. Softly kissing your forehead. “Goodnight Y/N..”

It’s a soft moment for him to show how much he cares for you. It doesn’t matter if you want to return his cloak, what matters is that you are with him with every step.

Playful teases if you are shorter than him. He calls you an elf everytime you try to reach for things. Ominis may try to stop him, but Sebastian can’t help but love the glare you give him.

Definitely always waits for you before entering the great hall. Ominis started to notice the attachment between you and him. Sebastian crosses his arms with knitted brows wondering where you are at only for you to show up minutes later. Sebastian smiles and puts his arm around your shoulder and guides you two to the Slytherin table. He’s ready to hear about your day.

But learning that you have a shop in hogmeade made Sebastian drop his jaw a bit before regaining his composure while Ominis seemed joyous and smiled at the fact you have a shop in the village. Sebastian would most definitely visit you there a lot to see how you are doing.

If you can’t handle a rude customer, don’t worry. Big brother Sebastian is ready to help you as he would be passive aggressive towards the person.

Say you got assigned into the same dorm as Ominis and Sebastian. Immediately Sebastian is running around in his mind inside. His favorite brother friend is staying in a dorm with him. He accidentally excluded Ominis in his mind as he helped you move in and told you small stories about the dormitories.

He most definitely tucks you in if you pass out on your bed.

He’s just a very affectionate person in secret. He’s cocky, sure. But he definitely has a soft spot for you mostly.

[giddyfenix]

Canines

Thing is, Etho had never been a dog person.

Dogs tended to be too loud, too clingy, too excitable—the tinier the worse. He didn't dislike them per se, except he kind of did.

He liked cats better. They were smarter, they knew themselves better, they had a level of spatial awareness even he couldn't comprehend. They were vigilant, but not obnoxious about it.

Where a dog would uselessly bark and go wild, a cat would sit and stare at the offender until it pissed itself. A dog would try hard, too hard, until its energy became useless in its overabundance. A cat would chase down a possible threat for fun, and it'd succeed.

Etho could appreciate cats and their values. The same could not be said for dogs.

Until Joel, that is.

He wasn’t trying to imply that Joel was a dog. Not necessarily. But the descriptors fitted and, for the first time, Etho found it all infuriatingly endearing. 

Maybe he was a bit more like a wolf, with sharper canines and predator instincts. Either that or a poodle. He just couldn’t seem to stay quiet. Or calm. Or content. At all.

“You suck,” Joel yelled at Bdubs.

Maybe closer to a poodle, Etho thought.

Joel turned to him. “Let’s go kill him,” he said.

Wolf. Maybe.

“We’re yellow, we can’t.”

“You’re no fun,” Joel whined.

Poodle. Definitely poodle.

He watched Joel huff and turn to leave and idly wondered if this was what dog owners felt, the thing that drove them to dogs in the first place.

He had never understood them, except he was starting to believe maybe he could, and that was both an interesting and concerning realization.

“Well, don't stay behind,” Joel said impatiently. He had stopped walking the second he realized Etho hadn't fallen into step behind him, almost like having him out of sight was an unfathomable problem rather than a minor inconvenience.

And look, he still wasn't trying to say Joel was a dog, but…

“Come on,” he said, tapping his foot. “Someone will touch you and I won't be around to bite them. Hurry up.” 

It was probably a joke, but his voice sounded just annoyed enough that Etho thought he should maybe believe him.

Etho just stared at Joel for a few seconds longer. He could perfectly picture Joel's bloodied teeth closed around someone's throat, and the sadistic grin that'd follow. So perhaps, and just perhaps, there was merit to the earlier wolf theory.

Joel walked back to Etho, scowling. “Come on,” he repeated, then proceeded to grab his wrist and pull him along.

He was a poodle that believed itself to be a wolf, Etho decided.

He let himself be pulled forward, and it was only when he saw Tango scurry away upon seeing them that it clicked.

No, he realized with dawning horror. Joel was a wolf with poodle tendencies. 

And Etho—proud cat person, proud of himself in general up to that very point in life—found that endearing. 

[homestuckreplay]

take me down to the pesterlog city where jade’s text is green and john gets all petty

(page 1394-1406)

It’s pesterlog time!!!! In a 12 page spread (1391-1402) there are seven pesterlog pages representing five characters. I feel like I am a medieval peasant attending my first palace banquet. The rich offerings of character moments and variety of colors on display is blowing my gruel-fed brain.

The art also kicks ass this update! Tbh I am going to make a post about the art more generally as I’ve noticed some big changes recently (and some slow changes that are very apparent when jumping back) so for today I’ll just say: look at this super cool art of John exploring LOWAS on page 1395. He’s so clearly questing in a way that the sprite just can’t represent. I would get this framed for my wall.

I’m delighted to get a longer conversation with CG, who I’ve named Reggie. They’re actually fun and creative with their trolling techniques here, and knowing what they look like means I get to imagine this little grey kid grinding their fangs as they tap away on their keyboard furious at a comparatively sweet and clueless guy. They look like a goofy nerd whose bark is way worse than their bite.

‘IT WOULD MAKE ME SICK TO MY HUMAN STOMACH IF I HAD ONE OF YOUR HUMAN STOMACHS’ is VERY funny. Reggie feels similar to the Felt and Midnight Crew in being so over-the-top in their violence that it loops back around to being funny. And John’s reactions are good too – he’s not upset at the trolling like Jade is, he’s hilarious and willing to turn Reggie’s snark back on them. Their willingness to play off each other definitely increases the ‘enemies to lovers’ feeling of this Valentine’s Day conversation.

It is interesting that Rose accepted GA’s offer to be friends (p.1093), and now Reggie is telling John that they’re friends in the future (p.1394). So suddenly the trolls, who act and look textbook malicious at first, are trying to play nice. Are the trolls setting this up in order to double cross the kids in the future? Or are the trolls trying to incorporate the kids into their group and get them to follow some sort of dark trolling agenda? Or are they also just outcast alien kids who troll people because they’re lonely and want some attention? Hard to say when we have only heard from three of them.

There is something amazing about PM’s sword previously being used for vengeance (p.844, 870) and this time when she tries to do similar, she’s interrupted by WV who convinces her to use it to open cans and share food instead. WV may be from the dark kingdom but he feels like a peacemaker between the light and dark sides, refusing to fight against either PM or AR. I mean he is literally followed around by the light of serenity. And now he sits between PM and AR and shares his food and Tab and they all become friends, which honestly, is amazing mayoral work. Solving disputes in the town already. I really think he could build a town just like Spades Slick did.

This view of Dave’s city is cool too, I love the color of the sky! He straight up lies by saying ‘i always keep birds in here its sort of my thing’ (p.1400) and calling it sincere, considering his earlier bird-free room (p.312). He is on way too many layers of irony to decode (i.e. he just says whatever bullshit comes to mind that might be funny with no regard for whether it’s true or false). Which is soooo great for getting to know his character (also he should stop saying slurs).

However, I can see why Dave is annoyed by Rose here. Like he does kind of bring this all on himself by being so ironic all the time and talking about how ‘cool’ his brother apparently is, but, it’s gotta be hard when he’s been telling Rose about fighting his brother on the roof and she’s dismissing that he went through a lot to get the beta to save her, when Jade had it literally handed to her. Rose doesn’t know the details so I’m not mad at her, but it still can’t be easy for Dave to hear that dismissal from a friend.

I do feel like Rose and Jade have this alliance in seeing themselves as the two who know what’s going on, with the combined power of Jade’s visions and Rose’s perceived high intelligence. This whole update is very gender roles but this does evoke page 838, where Rose is far more aware of Jade’s powers and the type of information she has access to than John or Dave are.

Meanwhile in Dave and John land...

TG: i should probably text him soon TG: see whats up TG: because TG: i love him

Straight up adorable. Don’t even pretend to me that there’s a shred of irony in this. I love how close these guys are. This is sort of the first declaration of love in Homestuck unless you count John’s telling Liv Tyler on his Armageddon poster that he loves her (p.223).

We specifically don’t get to see Rose’s conversation with a troll (yet), but I think we can assume she’s talking to GA, probably the only troll she respects enough to prioritize over Dave. We also don’t see where in the Medium Rose is; John assumes that she’s also in the Land of Wind and Shade, but according to Rose, ‘It’s hard to say for certain. But I think I like it here.’ (p.1402). If the Medium has four planets in between the light and dark (p.703) (holy shit half the story ago) then it makes sense for the players to all start on different planets and have to find each other, so we could be getting ANOTHER super aesthetically cool land within the next few weeks. Or teased repeatedly until the end of the act, who knows.

The puppets (including a wizard puppet) clinging to the totem lathe on page 1403 is a very good gag. Also, ‘eggy loking thign’ (p.240) spotted here in the menu?? Implying a limited set of Sburb entry items?? Also 2,000 starting build grist for Jade to use compared to 20 for Rose, and a bunch more gizmos and gadgets available to deploy, including a disc with a piece of green grist (?) and two devices shaped like captchalogue/strife cards; a further tease of what’s to come.

Finally, I’m so glad Hussie agrees with me that there’s no fucking way Jade knows how to clean a house. Even if she has absorbed gender roles and sees cleaning as a woman’s activity (p.1405) she definitely was not taught to do that and designed some kind of robot to do it for her.

[doberbutts]

Hi! I've met three dobes in my life so far and I definitely see the protective aspect. The dobe belonging to a friend did the whole 'BARK BARK person in the house!' routine. But she was doing her 'job' and I respect that. I think people fail to realise not every breed is going to fit what they want in a dog, and investing in a protective, guarding breed comes with adjustments that if they can't make they shouldn't own that particular dog.

What's funny too is that Fenris is hideously friendly. Like. I joke that his breeder sent me a golden retriever in a doberman suit because he is sooooooo so so social. His suspicion and his sharpness are forever at odds with his desire to be friends with everyone. He's not even mad about the decoy, he's happy because he gets to play his favorite game (BITING YOU BITING YOU BITING YOU) with someone he likes that's proven to know how to play this game and make it extra fun and not complain when he bites too hard.

But then he reminds me that he is really a doberman, when he says BOW WOW WOW at someone who lunges at me as I walk by, or someone who comes running from across the parking lot at us. Suspicious and vaguely threatening behavior is Not Friendly and so he matches that energy.

Maybe it's not what Dobermann had in mind. But I think this is an easier dog to live with than my barky lungey Skoll who wanted to maul every last person he saw. And I think in today's world, Fenris is an asset (people who perform vaguely threatening behavior back up when dog barks at them) while Skoll is a liability (he WILL bite someone for no reason).

But anyway. This like I said it what frustrates me when people say purebred people only care about aesthetic. I'm a purebred people. I have exclusively purebred dogs right now. And I want my doberman to be protective. I think it's a worse opinion to state that every breed has to be the same companion-only temperament (because then that truly just turns breed into aesthetic) than it is to say that the breed should act like the breed they are.

So someone that responds with "I don't want a protective dog" - sorry, then what you want isn't a doberman. Because even my incredibly friendly and social dog is still protective. He's very safe for strangers to touch and interact with- and people at club are always delighted when he decides to hop into someone's lap to lick all over their face when released from a stay- but also he sees someone approach my front door and issues a challenge. The decoy hits me on the arm and he latches on to the man's leg with a roar.

[limbuscompanysituations]

Would love to hear how the sinners are when they are hungover?

(Totes not asking because I am nursing my own hangover rn)

~🦭

I hope you have healed from your hangover, raccoon pal!

Faust: she is never hungover, pft. What? You think a genius such as her would ever succumb to something as silly as a hangover? She knows her limits. She is definitely not hungover, she's only a little slower than usual because she's deep in thought about some complicated experiment. And those five aspirins she took in one go are also part of that experiment. Stop asking silly questions.

Yi Sang: He threw up the moment he woke up. He threw up after taking painkillers. He drank a little bit of water and threw up again. Right now his face is greenish pale. Maybe they should take him to a medical office... The others try their best to keep him hydrated so he can heal from that pesky hangover. It still takes him an entire day to go back to normal.

Don Quixote: She never wakes up hungover. She's as loud as ever and it kills the other sinners who are nursing their own headaches. Couple hours after she woke up it finally hits her and she collapses somewhere and sleeps for six hours straight. Then she wakes up as thirsty as a camel.

Ryoshu: She's prone to great violence at the smallest noise. Everybody's walking on eggshells the moment they see she has a hangover. She doesn't smoke for a couple hours and is much quieter than the usual.

Ishmael: She's miserable the whole day, even after her headache has gotten much better. Her upset stomach doesn't let her eat much. She takes it easy.

Heathcliff: He's cursing people left and right, and just like Ryoshu, he's prone to violence at the smallest noises. It's all bark and no bite though, picking up his bat makes his headache worse for some reason. Completely forgets he needs to hydrate so it gets better and ends up spending a whole day hungover.

Meursault: Knows he has to hydrate, takes painkillers and controls what meals he will have through the day. Heals in a matter of a couple hours and is back to being a productive member of society. Everybody is jealous of him.

Hong Lu: He said that you only get hungover if you stop drinking and tried to take a shot of liquor at breakfast. The other sinners stopped him and made him sit down, eat a light meal, take painkillers and keep hydrated. He pouted through it all but resigned himself to his fate. Secretly loving being pampered a little bit, even if everybody is annoyed at him.

Outis: She's so cranky she sounds like an old woman... wait, she is an old woman. Everybody is annoyed at her and wants her to quit yapping, but she will yap at the slightest mistake. The sinners are secretly waiting for Ryoshu to get annoyed at her enough to cut her tongue or something. Nobody wants things to turn to violence, of course, because it's always a bother when it happens. However, for this one case, they will make an exception.

Sinclair: As unexpected as it is, he doesn't really have much trouble with hangovers. An aspirin, a bottle of water and a little peace and quiet and he will be back to his anxious usual self.

Rodion: It takes a lot for her to be hungover. When she finally hits that limit, the next day she will be quieter than usual and will keep asking everybody to talk less. She will also complain about how loud the entire bus is, and even ask Charon to turn the engine off for a second. She will steal the nearest person's aspirins and water and justify it by saying she needs them more.

Gregor: Oh he's so miserable. He leans back on his seat with his eyes shut tight, occasionally groaning when the bus goes through a lump on the road. He's absolutely out of it. Don't even try to make him get into a fight. He's taking double aspirins every hour or so and hasn't touched a cig the whole day. The water bottle is his best friend right now.

[bloodweep]

Warning these are NSFW

I’m also a trans man that is a-okay with pussy/cunt - I mainly write character x male reader but headcanons they are for everyone

“Ma don’t do this to me”

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ After some time together ࿐ྂ

‗ ❍ He gets excited over you very easily, he normally did; but now it’s worse, your scent invades his senses all the time; torturing him slowly

‗ ❍ The hugs getting longer, tighter and clingier

‗ ❍ Chests pressed together, his nose behind your ears nuzzling, if you hear a low guttural sound leave him ignore it; it will make it worse

‗ ❍ his hands began to wander, no longer staying around your midsection, moving to your hips, so dangerously close to your ass

‗ ❍ eventually he would have you caged to a tree, his forearm pressing into the bark, ignoring the scratching form on his skin, his muscles bunching and flexing by your head - this would happen more often now, this position, caging you in, loaning over you, yet he didn’t force anything

‗ ❍ GODS I know he would have the biggest muscles of his brother, so fucking big and bulky

‗ ❍ in this position he would show his fangs more, his tail flicking lazily behind him

‗ ❍ UGH he would definitely lean over you, his head tilting down into your space to speak, whispering to you so your conversation can be private

‗ ❍ this position is what caused the first kiss, he was so close, you both were sharing each others breaths, he exhaled you inhaled; back and forth

‗ ❍ finally his eyes lidded he looked over you; waiting, he may be demanding, cocky, grabby but he wouldn’t force this

‗ ❍ once he’s gotten the okay he press his lips to yours, a low growl from his throat

‗ ❍ his free hand would grip your hip, yanking you flush against his hips grinding against you with each kiss

‗ ❍ you definitely gotten fucked against the tree more than once

‗ ❍ oh BOY is he a munch, can eat pussy for hours if you let him, face buried into your cunt, lapping and sucking, his fangs scrapping against your cunt

‗ ❍ he’s most certainly snarled and nipped at your direction when you pull him away before shoving his face back into your cunt

‗ ❍ would eat your pussy for breakfast , lunch and dinner and even dessert

‗ ❍ has definitely been yelled out for leaving a gang scratches on your cunt

‗ ❍ a giver more than a receiver

‗ ❍ loves doggy

‗ ❍ “oh mamas” is definitely what he growls out as he fucks into you

‗ ❍ will enjoy having your pussy juices coat his face and neck as he fucks you, will get grumpy and nippy if you try to clean it off, he wants to smell like you and feel claimed

‗ ❍ I can see this man LOVING anal, the first time he’s giving the okay he nearly combusts, he loves your ass so much and being able to fuck it sends him into space

‗ ❍ would love to eat your cunt while stretching your ass open

‗ ❍ enjoys to overstimulate you until you’re crying, he just wants to feel your legs around his head crushing

‗ ❍ reverse cowgirl position too so he can keep his hands all over your ass

‗ ❍ into biting, he wouldn’t know how to ask to mark you up, but once you’ve pulled his head into your neck, he would certainly leave little marks there - marks your thighs too

‗ ❍ loves scratches, he wants your mark on him all the time

‗ ❍ he’s SO into muzzles, muzzle him up and yank on it to control him

‗ ❍ he would definitely hold you up into the air and fuck into you, showing off how strong he is, how good of a mate he is to you

‗ ❍ wants you to squirt on his face and chest all the time, enjoys your scent and wants everyone to know that

‗ ❍ he’s broken many of his and your beds from fucking you so hard, but it never stopped him from making sure you finished before making you a new one - at this point you suggest to fuck on the floor but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable on the bed

‗ ❍ He’s the one to be fucking into you, reaching up and gripping the headboard - which the area would break off in his hand from how tight he is holding it

‗ ❍ he’s a fucking dirty clothes sniffer (you cannot tell me he would bury his nose into your underwear and inhale, that man is a fucking dog)

‗ ❍ Throatfucking, drives him crazy when he can fuck into your throat, his hand gripping around the bulge in your throat

‗ ❍ size difference, sends him wild when he can see his dick through your stomach

‗ ❍ Somnophilia - receiving, loves waking up to you riding him, or your sitting down on his face

‗ ❍ breath play - receiving, suffocate him with your thighs, cunt, gripping his neck when you ride him

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

Tagging: @n3rdy247

I apologize they are so short, might add to them but this is all I could think of right now!

Added a gif I made because fuck him and his goggles does stuff to me

[polysucks]

Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont: Broken Men and the Paths to Redemption An analysis of how Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont’s treatment of Daenarys Stormborn and the Stark sisters reveals their overlapping sense of duty and morality

An Essay by Polysocial

Word count: 1,849 Time to read: 6 - 15 min CW for the usual asoiaf themes, the defense of Sandor Clegane and the depiction of Jorah Mormont as a fuckin groomer. Also the victimization of the underage women in ASOIAF. Also bad jokes. and I repeat myself alot. i have no beta im just a loser with a word processing program, a liberal american education, and too much time on my hands. You've been warned.

Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont are two men defined by their flaws, shaped by their circumstances, and searching for atonement for two extremely different reasons. Though their lives and choices are distinctly different, both wrestle with their own personal definitions of loyalty, self-worth, and the complexities of their relationships with the women they intend to protect. Their opposing paths shed quite a bit of light on the nuances of obligation, devotion, and the struggle to find meaning in a world that often seems devoid of it and the goreghe does an excellent job exploring the vast array of tones and shades in the beauty and the beast trope he is so evidently fond of.

Sandor Clegane: The Hound’s Bitter Sense of Duty

The Hound is a man defined by violence not only by his own design as a defense mechanism but also perpetuated by how he is treated before he even has a chance to open his mouth. From a young age, he was conditioned to believe his intrinsic value as a person lay in his ability to serve others through the only thing he knows holds worth in providing—brutality and violence. The Clegane family name, elevated to nobility through merciless service to the Lannisters, set the foundation for Sandor’s cynical worldview. His scars—both physical and emotional—are a demonstration of his brother Gregor’s cruelty and the dehumanizing system they are forced to exist in that values strength over compassion.

Though Sandor rejects the concept of honor (especially when it pertains to him), deeming it a hollow façade for the selfishness of the powerful (I mean, he’s got a point), his actions often contradict his words. His protectiveness toward Sansa and Arya Stark respectively and independently exposes a deeply buried and guarded sense of morality. He serves neither out of duty nor personal gain (It could be argued that he “kidnapped” Arya and took her to the Twins for personal gain, but I ain’t going there rn) but because he recognizes their vulnerability and sees in them a reflection of the innocence he never had the chance to love and cherish before it was ripped from him. This reluctant politesse, however, clashes with his belief in his own worthlessness, creating a tragic tension within his character.

Sandor’s relationship with Arya starkly demonstrates this complexity. Though he often threatens her with violence, his bark is worse than his bite [beat for applause]. His threats serve as a disguise, a way to maintain control and protect Arya in a dangerous world. The threats he does act on, however, such as knocking her unconscious during the Red Wedding, are harsh but motivated by a twisted sense of care. Sandor views himself as a necessary evil, someone who must act as a shield against greater horrors (one that was never offered to him), even if Arya herself resists his help. His dynamic with Arya mirrors his own self-perception: gruff and crude on the surface, but marked by an underlying love and genteel that he cannot fully suppress—no matter how hard he tries.

Jorah Mormont: Privilege and Self-Inflicted Exile

Jorah Mormont’s life is a stark contrast to Sandor’s [dodges tomatoes]. Born into privilege as the heir to Bear Island of the north, Jorah squandered the opportunities granted to him. His downfall—selling poachers into slavery to fund an extravagant lifestyle—was a choice born of greed and desperation, not necessity. Unlike Sandor, who was forced into servitude by circumstance, Jorah’s exile and subsequent loyalty to Daenerys Targaryen are the consequences of his own failures and choices he made with personal goals in mind.

At first, Jorah’s service to Daenerys is self-serving, a way to reclaim the honor he lost (it’s not even about his family name either like bro ur dad is so disappointed in you and here u go worshipping a fuckin pregnant teenager--). Yet as his love [crowd boos] for her grows, his devotion becomes what he considers selfless, albeit still flawed. His betrayal when he serves as a spy for King Robert emphasizes the infirmity of his moral compass. Jorah’s love [crowd starts waving pitchforks] for Daenerys is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, blinding him to the boundaries of their relationship and leading him to undermine her independence and strength in significant ways. Where Sandor sees himself as unworthy of redemption, Jorah clings to the hope that his obsession with displaying loyalty will earn him forgiveness and worthiness.

The Lens of Obsession: Jorah’s Idealization vs. Sandor’s Humanity

Okay hear me out another reason Jorah Mormont and Sandor Clegane are two sides of the same sword [Limp Bizkit – Break Stuff plays ominously from a JBL pill speaker in the crowd] in how they perceive and treat the women in their lives. Jorah’s devotion to Daenerys Targaryen is tinged with an unsettling obsession that often prioritizes her physical beauty over her strength and accomplishments. While Jorah admires Daenerys’s power, he punctuates his observations about her with a fixation on her body and appearance. He deifies her, placing her on a pedestal as though she is more goddess than human— this idealization showcases his incapability to see her as a whole person. (I mean, you could argue that he doesn’t see a single woman as a whole person. He talked mad shit about his wife who died in labor, and then his bitch wife who left him bc she didn’t like the north and bc he only liked her for her tits in the first place). His love for Daenerys, while (one can argue) is genuine, is also possessive, defined by his desire to be the one who protects and supports her—whether or not she wants or needs that from him.

Jorah’s fixation on Daenerys’s beauty exposes the imbalance in their dynamic. While she emerges as a formidable leader, determined to reclaim her birthright and liberate the oppressed (yas queen slay the masters go off), Jorah’s gaze often reduces her to an object of adoration and lust. This dynamic is further complicated by Daenerys’s repeated rejection of his advances. (I mean I can say a whole lot about dany’s sexuality and how she lets her most trusted hand maidens finger her to completion but wont return the Old Man’s advances. AS SHE SHOULD!!!!!! She deserves that. At least ur handmaidens love you girly. And they give a fuck about your pleasure, bc we all know Jorah would just hit it and quit it I bet he doesn’t even know women can have orgasms what a loser) She values him as an advisor and ally but does not reciprocate his romantic (AHEM! Sexual!) feelings. Jorah’s inability to fully accept this boundary leads to moments where his actions undercut her autonomy, as he seeks to align her decisions with his own desires.

In stark contrast (THIS IS MY TED TALK I WILL REPEAT PUNS IF I WANT!!!!), Sandor Clegane never idealizes or deifies Sansa or Arya Stark. He treats them as vulnerable young people in need of protection, not objects of desire or symbols of purity. Even when drunk and speaking bluntly about Sansa’s coming of age, Sandor’s observation is neither predatory nor obsessive.

“You look almost a woman… face, teats, and you’re taller, too, almost… ah, you’re still a stupid little bird, aren’t you?” – Sandor, ACOK: Sansa II

Sansa, from her own perspective, notes that Sandor’s demeanor, though rough, is not threatening. Despite his intimidating presence and harsh words, he is surprisingly gentle with her, displaying a rare restraint that compares dramatically with the violent world around them.

Sandor’s treatment of Sansa and Arya reflects a vital difference in how he views not only women, but the people around him. He sees them as human beings, shaped by their circumstances and vulnerabilities, rather than as ideals to be worshipped or possessed. For Sandor, Sansa represents innocence and a longing for the kindness he never experienced, while Arya embodies resilience and defiance. He respects their autonomy, even as he takes on the role of their protector. Unlike Jorah, who seeks validation and redemption through Daenerys’s love, Sandor does not expect gratitude or recognition from the Stark girls, nor does he ever once make that claim. His acts of protection stem from a sense of morality, not a need to earn their approval or affection.

Jorah’s idealization of Daenerys ultimately reflects his own insecurities and selfish desires. (UNHAND THE UNDERAGE GIRL!!!!) Sandor does not see himself as a hero, and he does not attempt to force his guidance upon the Stark girls. His loyalty is unspoken, and his protectiveness is practical rather than symbolic.

Ultimately, the difference lies in perspective: Jorah loves an idea of Daenerys that is inseparable from her beauty and his longing for her, while Sandor simply recognizes the humanity of Sansa and Arya. Where Jorah seeks to possess, Sandor seeks only to ensure survival.

Parallels: Redemption Through Relationships

Despite their differences, both men find paths to salvation through their relationships with Sansa, Arya, and Daenerys. For Sandor, protecting Sansa and Arya offers a chance to defy the cruelty of the world that shaped him. His actions reveal a taste of honor he claims to disdain, even as he refuses to believe in his own worth. For Jorah, serving Daenerys becomes a way to atone for his past mistakes, his love [Fred Durst is hyping the crowd up for my subsequent ass kicking] for her driving him to act in ways that he considers selfless, but are clear to the readers (though probably not to dany, as all we see of Jorah is from her perspective) is objectively self-serving.

Yet, their redemptive arcs are far from straightforward. Sandor’s rough treatment of Arya and his constant growling threats mask a reluctant kindness, while Jorah’s devotion to Daenerys often borders on possessiveness, revealing his inability to fully respect her independence. Both men are broken, their flaws and virtues intertwined, but their journeys show that even the most damaged individuals can find moments of greatness. (which if you have talked to me at alllllllll in dms you will know that this is like. My overarching opinion about this series and how the geurge depicts humanity through flawed characters as a moral and ethical grey area. There is no “good vs evil” there is no black and white thinking.)

Conclusion: The Trained Dog and the Devoted Bear

Sandor Clegane and Jorah Mormont embody the complexity of loyalty and redemption in a world rife with moral ambiguity. Sandor, the trained dog, snarls and snaps but ultimately protects those he cares for, his actions speaking louder than his words. Jorah, the devoted bear, offers his unwavering loyalty to Daenerys, though his love often blinds him to the ways he undermines her autonomy. Both men, shaped by their pasts, find meaning and redemption through their relationships, even if those opportunities remain incomplete. In the end, their stories remind us that even in the darkest corners of the human soul, there is a capacity for change and a longing for something better.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 4)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.4k words

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, no foreplay or lube (because it's fiction), mentions of being cheated on, pining and some angst, Keeley is determined to get Roy laid

@agentstarkid is always the best at letting me ramble and plan ❤️

Series Masterlist

Wednesday morning, Roy stood on the pitch, watching the Greyhounds amble out of the tunnel for training. He snuck a glance at his phone; still no new messages. He thought back to that morning in your bed. Yeah, he’d put in his number on your phone correctly, he was sure of it. You’d had a good time that night. You definitely came- multiple times, in fact. And you looked almost disappointed when he had to leave to be a responsible baby-sitter for his idiot team.

So why the fuck hadn’t you texted him?

“Mornin’, Coach!” Jamie chirped, his stupid pink headband giving Roy a headache. “Alright?”

Before Roy could open his mouth for some expletive-laced response, the mobile in his hand buzzed. Unable to help himself, he quickly opened the incoming message.

There you were.

Gorgeous as ever in a dark pair of leggings and a Ferrari t-shirt, you leaned against your beautiful car, cocky grin and mischievous eyes threatening to give Roy a hardon. The attached message made things worse:

She’s purring 😼

“Whoa there, Grandad.”

Realizing that Jamie was still over his shoulder, Roy stuffed his phone into his pocket with a scowl. “Go get warmed up, Tartt.”

Jamie’s eyes were bright with amusement. “You made her purr?” he scoffed. “The fuck did you do to her, Roy? And please, draw me a diagram or some shit.”

Roy’s face was bright red; whether from annoyance, embarrassment, or arousal he wasn’t quite sure. “Her fucking car,” he muttered.

“You fucked her in her racecar?” Jamie looked like a child who’d been visited by Father Christmas. “You are a god, Roy Kent-”

Roy threw his head back with a loud groan. “She’s talking about her car,” he barked. “Purring means it sounds good or whatever.” He pointed towards the pitch. “Now fucking go on before I have you tie a string around your prick again and give the other end to the mascot.”

With Jamie still laughing but finally gone, Roy snuck another glance at his phone, that horny little voice in his head telling him not to care if he popped a boner in front of the whole team. To his surprise, there was already another text waiting for him.

The car, I mean. You’ll have to make something else purr yourself, Kent.

Fuck. He bit his lip and tucked his phone away, wondering how the hell he was going to focus on training, or anything really, after reading that text.

You were going to be the death of him.

~

Eying Roy carefully over her salad, Keeley opened her mouth. “So how was your night with the Empress?” Her deepened, teasing voice had Roy scowling.

“Fuck are you on about?” He narrowed his eyes at the blonde who was perched on his desk after insisting they have lunch together. “I walked her to the hotel, apologized for the way the guys were all over, and went the fuck to bed. It was well past my bedtime.” He took a particularly aggressive bite of his own salad.

“Well, that’s disappointing.” Keeley pouted. “I think someone like you’d be good for her.”

Roy sighed and slammed his salad onto his desk. This conversation clearly wasn’t ending anytime soon. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

A moment passed in silence as Keeley pursed her lips and studied Roy’s sullen face. “Well… about a year ago she had this beautiful, vile boyfriend. A model. Built like a Greek god or something. They were very hot and heavy, very public, for about three years. Aaaaaand he cheated on her. Quite publicly.” Keeley’s expression was heavy with sympathy. “Ever since, she hasn’t been seen with the same guy for more than two weeks.”

Color flooded Roy’s face. “And why the fuck d’you think I’d be good for her or whatever?”

Keeley reached out and touched Roy’s cheek, smugly noting how unusually warm it felt. “You’re a good guy, Roy. A damn good boyfriend. Probably the best one I ever had.” She shrugged and withdrew her hand. “She could use some of that.”

Roy stared at his salad. No wonder you were keeping him at arm’s length, leaving things up in the air about seeing each other again. He was just another fun time you were using to help you get over some other prick.

He hated how badly he wanted to let you use him.

“Who the fuck did he cheat with anyway?” Roy spat, ignoring the knots in his stomach. “Liz Hurly in the 90s?” His mouth moved ahead of his brain. “Because I can’t think of anyone who’d be worth losing- I mean, she’s just so fucking badass and gorgeous-”

“That, that right there!” Keeley lit up, pointing at Roy’s red face with her fork. “That’s why I think you’d be so nice for her. Look at you, already gushing over her. It’s kind of cute.” She tilted her head, reminding Roy of the poodle his great-aunt Natalie used to keep. “And I think it’s mutual,” she added slowly. “The couple of times you two’ve been in the same room, it’s obvious. There’s an attraction there. And I mean, you’re both legends in your sport, you’re both fit, you’re both full of white-hot passion-”

Roy rolled his eyes. “You trying to set me up on a date, or are you trying to cast a commercial?”

Keeley grinned. “Alright but think about how hot the two of you would look in a magazine- The Empress and the Greyhound.”

Pretending he didn’t love the sound of that, Roy picked a piece of shredded carrot out of his salad and tossed it at Keeley’s open mouth. “Eat your fucking lunch.”

~

You probably weren’t supposed to be in this hallway. You had promised to meet Keeley and Rebecca in the owner’s box, fully intent on drinking your weight in champagne while cheering on the Greyhounds. But you found yourself wandering down an empty hallway, wondering which way it was to the changing rooms, despite your inner voice scolding you about how you were getting far too comfortable with finding Roy Kent in your bed and reminding you not to start any bad habits with that gorgeous man who you had texted far too often this week.

“Oi.”

Heart skipping a beat, you turned around. All thoughts of not hooking up with Roy Kent again were immediately silenced when you caught sight of those trackpants, already starting to look tight as he quirked an eyebrow at you. It was kind of stupid of you to think you’d be able see him without your thoughts turning dirty, because there you were, face to face with the man and practically drooling in more ways than one.

“Roy Kent,” you greeted, at least appearing cool with your little smirk.

Roy’s eyes scanned your body slowly, unabashedly, taking in your tight red pants and low-cut tank top, all the way up to your Ferrari cap. Almost as if he knew you’d picked out this outfit hoping he’d see it. “Thought you were supposed to give me a heads up next time.”

You shrugged as you closed the distance between the two of you, barely resisting the urge to totally press your body to his. “Wasn’t sure if I’d see you this trip,” you admitted.

“What, already tired of sharing your hotel whiskey with me?” Despite his teasing voice, his furrowed eyebrows exposed his disappointment.

That sweet disappointment had you tugging at his open jacket with a little pout. “No hotel whiskey this time,” you purred. “Only here for the afternoon. I’m flying out after the match.”

“What’s with the quick turnaround?”

You smiled, wishing you could reach up and ease the wrinkle between his brows, instead choosing to use your grip on his jacket to tug him a smidge closer. “I was just here to meet with Rebecca. Keeley heard someone was selling a few shares, and Becca’s hoping I’ll scoop them up. She’s wining and dining me during the match today.”

His confidence returned, a smirk forming on those lips you wanted to feel on every inch of your body. “What, you think if you become an owner, you can boss me around?”

Completely ignoring that gnawing feeling deep in your gut telling you to turn around, to walk away from this beautiful man and find a less secluded hallway, you giggled and let one hand wander to his bicep. “Roy Kent, I don’t need to be an owner to tell you what to do.”

“Oh really?” His eyes darkened as he took another look up and down your body, lingering on all of his favorite parts. “Prove it.”

You stood on tiptoe, bringing your lips to his ear, savoring his shiver as you whispered, “Fuck me.”

In no time his hand was scandalously low on your back as he steered you to a nearby door, practically shoving you inside. Once the door was closed and locked behind you, Roy set to work making sure the boot room was empty- no Will Kitman hiding in some corner, too scared to move from his post- locking every door and shutting every set of blinds he could find. Roy Kent was a rather selfish man when it came to you; he wanted the delicious sounds of your moans and whimpers all to himself.

Satisfied that the two of you had the most privacy possible in a stadium packed with athletes, fans, and the press, Roy pulled you to himself, roughly pressing his mouth to yours, wasting no time before sliding his tongue inside. Somewhere in the kiss, your cap fell to the floor. Sighing into his open mouth, you wrapped your arms around his neck, wondering how you ever thought you’d be able to come to Nelson Road and resist him when he on his home turf.

He walked you backwards until your back hit a counter and let his hands wander down to the button of your red jeans. “Don’t have much time,” he mumbled, lips roving to your jaw. “Gotta be quick, alright?”

Eyes fluttering shut, you nodded, desperate for anything he’d give you. “Quick,” you breathed, already feeling yourself turn to putty under his rough hands.

Roy made quick work of your jeans, tugging them down your ankles, along with the pretty panties you’d picked just for him. Eyes on your glistening sex, he wiggled down his trackpants, revealing how hard he already was. Gripping your hips, he helped you hop onto the counter, where you spread your legs for him. He pressed his forehead to yours as he slowly slid himself into your entrance, bringing himself to a stop at the first whine that slipped past your lips.

“I know,” he cooed, bringing down one hand to soothingly rub your clit as he resumed inching into you. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well, taking me so fucking well.”

Your breath caught in your throat, this time from his words more than the burning feeling of his cock stretching you. Baby. You hated when men called you that, men who hadn’t been around long enough to call you such a sweet, gentle name. It was an instant turn-off. Too loving, too intimate.

But when Roy Kent said it? It sounded like heaven.

The feeling of him filling you up brought your thoughts back to the moment. He froze, letting you have a moment to get used to the sensation- as if you could ever get used to being fucked by Roy Kent.  You wrapped your legs around his waist and brought your lips to his, letting your rough kiss give him permission to move again.

He started with slow, dragging strokes, watching your face with an intense gaze as you gripped his arms. You threw your head back against the wall, the pain giving way to familiar pleasure, especially with the way Roy expertly massaged your clit.

Feeling the needy way your cunt clenched around him, Roy picked up his pace, roughly thrusting into you. When a loud moan escaped your lips, he instinctively brought his free hand to your mouth, shaking his head.

“Gotta keep quiet, baby,” he growled. He could practically feel your pussy throb at the word. “Think you could do that for me?” When you nodded, he removed his hand and brought it to your clothed breast, squeezing it roughly through your top. “Good girl.”

Fuck. Was he trying to make you moan again?

Desperate for something to occupy your mouth, you latched your lips to his jaw, pressing slobbery kisses there as Roy drove into you, biting his lower lip to hold in his own moans. When his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you, you whined against his skin and began sucking on the spot. Part of you scolded yourself; you were definitely going to leave a mark on his jaw. But the part of you that was drunk off of Roy’s cock hoped you left him with a reminder of this romp.

His garbled moan told you that he was close, so fucking close. Determined to be a gentleman, he quickened his strokes on your clit, bringing his free hand to your hip to attempt to hold you as still as possible so he could absolutely pound into you.

“Roy,” you whimpered against his jaw as that coil in your tummy wound tighter and tighter. You felt yourself start to spasm around his cock.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he whispered, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Come for me, baby. Fucking come for me. I need it. Need you.”

His words made you snap. You gripped his biceps as if your life depended on it, and your teeth sunk into that spot on his jaw you’d been sucking to muffle the moan you felt sure the entire building could hear. He fucked you through your orgasm, wishing more than anything that he had time to make you come over and over again instead of having to savor this one like the treasure it was.

Your body spasmed beautifully against his until you looked up at him through your eyelashes, eyes glossy, completely fucked out. The sight only had him pounding harder, determined to give you something to remember him by before the two of you parted ways.

“Fuck,” he hissed, releasing your clit so he could grab your face and tilt it towards his. “Want me to fucking come for you?”

All you could do was nod and capture his lips with yours, your kiss sloppy and wet, tongues wrestling, teeth knocking carelessly. Your legs pulled him deeper, your fucked out mind desperate for him to fill you up.

Finally regaining some control of your still very horny mind, you brought your lips to his ear. “Roy,” you cooed, giving a little nibble to his lobe. “Come for me, baby.”

That fucking did it.

Roy’s whole body jerked as his cock spasmed and emptied inside you, your name softly falling from his lips like it was the only word he knew. Your eyes rolled back at the overstimulation, grateful that you were sitting because your knees were beyond weak, even weaker than your resolve had been when you’d first laid eyes on Roy in the hallway.

It felt much too soon when the two of you collapsed in each other’s arms, panting quietly. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, intoxicated by the scent of sex and Roy; fuck you wished you were staying in Richmond tonight. But the part of you that knew you were starting to get needy for Roy Kent was grateful you were leaving as soon as the match ended. This was getting far too easy.

With a quiet groan, Roy pulled out of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, almost as an apology for having to rush things. As much as he needed to be inside you, he regretted that it was so sloppy, so hasty. If there was anything he wanted to take his time with, it was you.

He offered you his hand and helped you off the counter, which you couldn’t bring yourself to look at, fearful that you’d left a puddle behind. The two of you quickly fixed yourselves, pulling up pants and fixing hair. Roy bent down and picked up your hat, handing it to you with an almost bashful look on his flushed face.

“That was…” He raised his eyebrows, question marks in his eyes.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you put your hat back on, grateful that it would hide some of the mess Roy had made of your hair. “Yeah.” You ran your hands down your body, smoothing out your clothes. Fuck, you felt ready to pass out. Or ready to ask Roy to fill you up again.

“C’mere.” Roy grabbed your hand and pulled you to himself, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You better stay overnight next time,” he murmured, his thumb stroking a small piece of your exposed skin. “Because I want to take my time with you, got it?” He kissed your lips deeply. “Fucking Empress deserves to be treated properly.”

If the fucking hadn’t weakened your knees, Roy’s words sure would have. All you could do was kiss him back, wishing you had more time and wishing that you weren’t wishing that. Roy Kent had a reputation. Models, actresses, an heiress or two. And now, thanks to you, he could add F1 Driver to his resumé. Back at Silverstone, you figured he’d be fun, another nice little distraction, good for the weekend and maybe another hookup in Richmond if you ever came to a match. You’d promised yourself you weren’t stupid enough to actually fall for the footballer whose Chelsea kit still hung in the back of your closet somewhere.

But you also weren’t expecting those brown eyes to have that look as he gazed down at you.

“I better go,” you murmured, equally desperate to stay and get as far away as possible. “Becca and Keeley’ll be sending a search party soon.”

“Right.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Enjoy the match, yeah?”

You offered him a ghost of a smile as you tiptoed out of the boot room, trying to look as if you were supposed to be there, not that you’d snuck in for a quick fuck with the manager.

As you strode down the hall, walking quickly to get to the owners’ box before the girls could begin to wonder where you were, it dawned on you. This being a quick trip, you had no change of clothes. Meaning you were now stuck with a soaking pair of panties that would slowly fill with everything Roy had just given you. As annoyed as part of you was, knowing it was going to be an uncomfortable as hell football match and flight, some dirty little part of you couldn’t help but feel turned on at the thought.

Fuck. You liked shagging Roy Kent a lot more than you should.

Taglist: @hotdoglamp @daydreamgoddess14 @klaine-92 @gibby31 @anonurs @taytaylala12 @unholyhuntress @thatonedogwithablog @seacactusplant @e-mmygrey @jane-dough

[afairytalestray]

OK so on Saturday I got to go to Milan to see the Cats Il Sistina tour and HOLY GOD IT WAS AWESOME. I'm glad I studied the character designs in advance because a lot of the costumes are really different. I'm not typically a huge fan of nonreplicas but Il Sistina may well change that!

I've compiled my thoughts on the show here! Nb, I do not speak Italian so I'm not sure how close to the original lyrics the translation is 😅

There were no green goggles, but the Cats did come in through the audience. I had an aisle seat and Cassandra walked right past me! She was right there and so beautiful omg.

I've gotta get in right at the start that Simone Ragozzino is my new all-time favourite Mungojerrie. The most ever! A little guy. He got most of the acrobatics that Tumblebrutus usually does - apparently Simone used to be an acrobat/gymnast so that makes sense. He and Rumpleteazer were sufficiently chaotic but also clearly valued and beloved members of the tribe. Idk man Simone just got it. Tumble-jerrie ftw. 

The cathedral from "round the cathedral" was changed to a Colosseum reference which I loved 😍

I'm obsessed with Demeter’s makeup from this tour actually. I'm personally not the biggest fan of cryptid-style makeup and looks in Cats in general, but I feel like Deme was balancing just on the edge and it really worked and I loved it. Maybe it was Viviana Salvo's acting as well - she was fabulous at toeing that line between stunning and unnerving!

Tugger and Munkustrap were super close! Munk was less annoyed by Tugger’s antics than normal and they did this thing at one point where Tugger was holding onto Munk who leant fully backwards off the edge of the stage - it was like a trust exercise and I was a fan. Their rendition of Old Deuteronomy was lovely and their voices worked so good together! Tugger was definitely Munkustrap’s second in command of the tribe. I wish Tugger was a bit more Tugger in appearance, he seemed very yellow with not a lot of detail on his costume, but the personality was hundo p present and accounted for. He did the "bite is worse than your bark" line in Jellicle Songs and legit barked at the end.

Jennyanydots was fabulous! Instead of a big coat she literally wore a giant ball of wool, and one of the props was giant knitting needles and the start of what might have been a giant scarf - it took 6 of the Cats to carry it. It actually worked super well for Milan, which is known for fashion and fabrics - there's even a giant sewing needle sculpture outside Cadorna Station! It was probably a happy coincidence but I enjoyed it!

Victoria's role was changed quite a bit, her solo was totally different and the pas de deux was gone. There also kinda just... wasn't the big small first touch Vic and Grizabella moment, which I was sad about, but if Griz's big moment wasn't "TOUCH MEEEEEE" in the translation, I'm not so bothered by it. I wish Vic had a bit bigger of a role because I love her, but she was killing it whenever she was on stage.

We are all stan pink Jemima, she had such a lovely voice too. Her and Alonzo were playing with a tennis ball during the interval and it was adorable.

My beloved Coricopat and Tantomile were lying in the Mouth of Truth prop after Moments of Happiness; they had their usual role of translating Old Doots through Jemima so I thought their placement here was deliberate! They weren't always fully in sync which I kinda liked, it was like they were allowed to be their own characters rather than just "the twins". I definitely got the impression that Tantomile was the older sister which hella backs up my hcs about her!

Gus was absolutely WILD. He comes in after Jellylorum has done her whole first part of the song in this raggedy old tradiotional Sherlock Holmes-style beige plaid coat instead of being there but kinda out of it the whole time. At first he wasnt keen on replaying any of his roles, but then all the others were like please please please and he relented. I think they were calling him (or his role) Romero? Idk if that's an Italian reference I just don't get? They did Pekes and Pollicles (one of the above had been changed to chihuahuas!) and then the bold Rumpus/Romero appeared... in a red satin bath robe and holding a sabre??? I need to look up this reference! Dude didn't just intimidate the pollicles, he straight up cut a couple of them down with his sword! Grandpa woke up and chose violence 😂

There was no trash train in Skimbleshanks 😭😭 there were giant glowstick things that changed colours though. Skimble and Bustopher were played by the same actor which is a combo I haven't seen before. Skimble was definitely still everyone's favourite train dad, all the characters were totally hyped for his song. HE DID TAP LIKE IN 2019. It was really cool how they did it, all the music stopped and he started a call and response tap dance with some of the other characters. The background showed an animated video of going through a train tunnel, like from the perspective of a train driver! The tap was gradually speeding up and became the sound effects of a train setting off and moving through the tunnel. I'm not explaining this super well but it was SO cool.

The Macavity Fight was quite different. There wasn't him disguised as Old Deuteronomy and then unmasked. What happened was he showed up and caused some shenanigans and then disappeared. There were about 4 of him around, so it looked like he was teleporting around the stage and audience! Bombalurina and Demeter performed his song which was absolutely fantastic (seriously how do these actresses actually manage to dance like that and sing at the same time?? Goddesses), after that he showed up again and the full cast was involved in the fight. Munkustrap still got the good choreography, but the whole tribe was involved trying to protect Old Deuteronomy. Tugger was definitely a protector in this production, he was very involved. Jerrie got KO'd a good few times, and Macavity absolutely destroyed poor Jenny! It felt like all of them were trying to protect their family and I really liked that. Despite that, Macavity was still able to win and successfully kidnap Old Doots!

"Mungojerrie, RUMPLETEAZER, Griddlebone" they let my girl do crime again!

Mistoffelees and Quaxo were besties, and Misto was REALLY enjoying Tugger's song I'm just saying. Delighted to announce Il Sistina Misto was a fruity little guy. He didn't get the terrible bore line, sad face, that went to Quaxo, but tbh idk how they translated that so it could be totally different! At one point Alonzo was holding him back at the start of Tugger’s song! We then saw a sponge-like Misto who picked up behaviours from the others around him, like he wasn't too sure of himself. This is actually one of my favourite Misto hcs so i was so chuffed to see it so clearly. He then helped Alonzo rein George (at least I think it was George!) in from going mental fanboy at Tugger. He was originally curious about Griz but then adjusted to hissing upon seeing the others. This fully went forward into his song. They did some big choreo changes. It was significantly less dance-heavy than traditional Misto performances and had a stronger focus on him being magic. There was a levitating box that they spent a lot of time with - Magician's Assistant Cass got in, but then she didn't disappear? She just popped back out again after the box had been rotated a few times. Some of the Kittens were waving their hands under the box to prove there was nothing holding it up and looking amazed which was adorable though. There was also a bit where Misto put some cards into a hat, the hat got passed down a line of Cats and then at the end they just sort of flew out? Like idk maybe they changed the lyrics where they're describing different magic tricks and it all makes sense! I THOUGHT THE CONJURING TURNS WERE GONE, but they were just moved to the very end of the song and cut down quite a bit.

Ok BUT LISTEN, à la 2019, the poor boy tried and failed twice to bring back Old Deuteronomy and then just sort of flopped in the corner all defeated but then BOYFRIEND TUGGER HELD HIS HANDS AND GOT RIGHT UP CLOSE AND WAS LIKE I BELIEVE IN YOU BABE and omg for real those actors knew EXACTLY what they were doing Tuggoff nation RISE. I'm always a red-sheet-turned-cape stan but I can definitely get behind the sparkly tail coat and playing card bowtie. He also had this handkerchief that he threw up in the air and it became a magic wand. I have no idea how and it was very silly so obviously I loved it. Although I wasn't massively into the choreo changes (ballet dancer Misto 5eva), Pierpaolo Scida was a magnificent Misto and I adored him - he was so cute! The little background actions and looks he did were so in character with how he interpreted Misto! Also he was beautiful you can't change my mind.

Malika was such an intense Grizabella - 10/10. She was proud but so vulnerable. She walked right past me when she first came in and lads, she did the whole show in these massive stilettos - absolute queen. At one point it literally rained on her on stage! During her first Memory, Old Deut was really watching her, and at the end of it he approached her, but she ran off when she saw him. I thought it was a super cool character moment, like she knew she wanted to be accepted, but wasn't quite ready for it. Even after the big Memory and Old Deuteronomy declared her the Jellicle Choice, Victoria approached her, but she was still too scared to let her, and it was Jemima who finally was able to reach her and bring her in. At the end she just kinda disappeared off stage - there were no flying tyres or magic stairs in the circus tent!

During the bit after the bows some of the cats were out in the audience and Tugger scared the absolute crap out of this one woman by poking his head in between her and the person sitting next to her. Iconic. Also during the latter part of the interval the audience was allowed to come up to the edge of the stage where some of the actors were goofing about in character. This mf pretended to cough up a hairball and now I have it on video. I also got some close ups of Teazer and the beautiful Bomba!

The Italian Junkyard was fabulous! It was mostly roman landmarks like Piazza Navona and Bocca della Verità, but there was also Michelangelo's David (which I'm pretty sure is in Florence) above the orchestra! There was also a giant marble foot, an Italian-style water fountain, and a broken column. My favourite prop was the bench, it's elevated at the back left of the stage and the cast were using it like a slide to enter the stage! Also it seemed to be Misto’s preferred location to lounge.

In conclusion, I will never get over this.