#i get she’s light skinned and enjoys feeling different but I’m very done and I have no where to go

[whimsycore]

Not me realizing how desparately I need to move out after the night my mother asked someone how her adult freedoms where going and then asked me when I said “what freedoms” she made it about me driving and not her being a literal tyrant

[sintiva]

— abby anderson!

abby has been plaguing every bit of my mind. mmm — i decided to rewatch tlou2 only to see abby.

‘nnnnnn now i’m thinking of her preparing to leave jackson. she’s frantic,, almost. three weeks of separation makes her dream and yearn for you. she hasn’t even left yet. you’re two steps away from her, under the covers of the bed. naked, afro a mess. your forehead’s slick with sweat, and if you move the wrong way, your whole body feels numb. your thighs stick together; she’s making it her goal to engrave her touches into you so they last the duration of her excursion. so when you think about her you have fresh material that’ll keep your panties wet. it pays to slowly enjoy the moments that don’t occur as often, and abby’s taking her time with you this evening.

she exasperatedly sits on the bed and falls back, discarding the plans isaac gave her, the papers scatter — a mere reflection of her thoughts. she can’t focus on plans and cleaning her guns, she’s too busy focusing on the mess you made on the strap. you’re still perked up and teasing her while she lays in bed. you stalk her movements, swift like a cat. if you had a tail it’d be up in the air swaying side to side. her eyes fixate on your upside down form as you hover a few inches above her, boobs resting on her hair “‘think i want some more abs, but from the side this time.” you bat your lashes and make the mistake of rising up to your knees. she giggles, “easy, cowgirl-“ as you fall over with a soft thud to the sheets, stomach jerking, your clit’s still thumping, pussy still throbbing eliciting a soft whine. you feel the shape of her still fucking deep inside of you. that’s the condition she fucks you in to every time, but tonight just feels different. it’s a trance she wants to stay stuck in, it’s sticky and sweet, sweeter than honey — it’s you. sex with you makes life seem so simple. stress dissipates, orders are meaningless. the thought of leaving looms over her head. a dark, gray, spatial cloud follows her every step, stress and worry boom faintly in her ears like a storm. she feels her stomach twisting.

leaving Jackson sucks so bad. when she leaves, you make her feel bad about it too— as if it was her decision to leave you to go and romance clikers and all those other demons. juxtaposed to, innocent, pretty, light hearted, her pretty angel — you! she’s thinking about the moments you two have shared since she stepped into the room this evening.

your moans have been on rewind. she thinks about how she’s made had you cum over and over again on her fingers, on her tongue, on her dick. soft, and opaque, pink with a soft white substance coating its base and the black straps of it as she dug it so deep inside of you curating that mess.

“‘’m cummin’ ’” you’d mumbled, thighs quivering shut, “keep em open, mama, you look so pretty ‘n daddy won’t be back for a while, so let her enjoy it.” she still can’t believe she said that crazy shit.

“‘mmabbs , we’re not done yet right?.” you whine in her ear and she shoots up. every organ in her body ignites with lust. every nerve ticks with impatience. her fingers itch. situational lust, every situation where you have her like this. when you beg and insist for her to do as she pleases. your voice cups her ears and whisper endless affirmations. it’s dreamy. it all feels like a dream, but this is very much real.

she’s thinking of how you look when she grips your throat. your little pleas, dry; high pitched. your throat’ll vibrate, your eyes’ll roll to the back of your head and your precious fingers’ll grip onto her arms. they move up to feel the muscles, the ridges and dips of her skin. your pussy gets sloppier the harder she chokes you. pinned down to the matress so you can’t get away. it’s a fun feeling. you feel how hot she is against your body. when your lips meet yours their so soft, saccharine. they fall into a frown, you want her take up all your space, you want her to fill you up. you’re hearing, vision, and mind feel have fallen victim to a delicate haze.

“look at me, baby.” she lightly smacks your cheeks. the palm of her hand lightly plays at your cheeks till your eyes crack open. your turn your head to look back at her as she taps you deeply from the side. “i am.” you whine. tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your legs tremble the harder abby’s thrust pick up. she picks up your right leg and grinds her hips up into you. your fingers dig into the blue velvet blanket she laid you on. the squelching gets louder and louder. she fucks you till your mouth drops open and whiny profanities wisp out. “you want it like this, mama?” she asks, kissing your cheeks as one deep sigh rolls out of your mouth. she’s pounding into that one spot over and over, “mmhm, jus’ like that.”, you’re creamin’ all on her shit now. you’re fingers dig into her skin, and it take so much out of her to fuck you how you need it. you like it rough, you never say that, but the sounds your pussy makes tells everything. “you’re making a mess, does it feel that good?” she teases and nips your neck. she sucks on the back of your neck until dark red marks decorate her beautiful brown canvas.

“yes…nghh— right there.” you drool it out and your legs spasm for the nth time. you slowly cum on her dick. grinding until you lost all feelings in your hip. she’d pop it out and tap it against your ass. “good girl. you should feel real tired, you gonna let me do some work now?” she rolls over and pins you with her body. “only of we can do it till bed time when you finish.” abby giggles, your concept of bed time doesn’t reflect hers, “yeah? and what’s your definition of “bedtime”?”

[crypticpuffin]

behold..... the first section of the first chapter of my fic. I got discouraged with it lately but I'm gonna try and keep going with it if I can anyways. read the excerpt below the cut!

Chapter 1

Lambert touched the console nearest to her, allowing the ever-present hum of the ship to vibrate through her space-weary bones. Just the knowledge that they were on their way back home made the feeling somewhat soothing; a promise of safe passage, maybe, or just a reminder that there was nothing to worry about.

She knew she was being ridiculous when she worried about what ifs– she’d always been a worrier, and everyone had always told her to relax, to just let it go. But Joan Lambert had never been very good at letting things go.

Are you scared, little lamb?

“Lambert?”

Upon hearing her crewmate’s voice, she retracted her hand from the console– it was stupid, but something about being alone with someone else (another woman, her brain specified unhelpfully) often made her feel a bit insecure and even nervous. Ellen Ripley was unfortunately no exception. She turned around to face the ship’s third officer, feeling suddenly self-conscious of her appearance. Cryosleep had left her feeling used up and vaguely sick– she was sure that much was evident on her face.

“Yes?” Lambert asked, forcing out the word through the thick buzzing of her thoughts.

If Ripley noticed anything was amiss, thankfully, she didn’t show it.

“Family dinner in five– Dallas’ orders,” she stated simply, but with a little quirk of her lip at the word family. Always that effortless way about her– like other people didn’t scare her. Like nothing scared her.

If Lambert let herself feel it, she might’ve envied her crewmate’s seeming fearlessness; but jealousy was an ugly thing, and besides, Ripley had done nothing to earn any ill will on her part. She was just trying to get by and get home, like all of them. Instead, Lambert let herself feel only a discomfort settle over her skin at the other woman’s words, like an invisible itch she didn’t dare touch.

“Okay, thanks,” she replied, smiling as effortlessly as she could pretend to. She wanted to turn around and drown in her thoughts again, let them pull her under and fill her marrow with that familiar white noise, but Ripley wasn’t leaving. In fact, she was knitting her eyebrows together just slightly; a small tug of concern, maybe, like she’d seen Lambert’s facade for what it was. Shit.

She hated that other women made her feel like this sometimes, especially beautiful women like Ripley– around them, she felt exposed, different. She had transitioned very early in life, but that didn’t mean there weren’t days that that acid doubt didn’t eat away at her, that burning fear that spoke in her mother’s voice and asked her:

Why do you think you could ever fool them?

Most of the time, it was just more static in the incessant din of her head; but sometimes she might have sworn that she could hear that voice as if her mother was standing right behind her, as if her ghost had persisted through the cold vastness of space just to haunt her.

“Are you all right, Lambert?”

She blinked her heavy thoughts away, letting them sink into the pit of her stomach like stones to the sea floor.

“Yeah,” she answered, managing a breathless chuckle as she said it. “I’m fine.” Sensing this might not be enough to dispel her crewmate’s concerns, she went on, “Just still waking up from the cryosleep. Always leaves me kinda disoriented, I guess.”

Ripley nodded with a little smile.

“Yeah, I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” she agrees, and Lambert thinks she can see a small light in her dark eyes, as if she was enjoying the conversation. She doesn’t know what to make of that. “If it helps, Brett managed to throw up afterwards.”

That got an almost involuntary laugh out of her. “Why do you think that would make me feel better?”

She shrugged, but her smile hadn’t faded in the slightest. “I mean, it’s just kind of impressive. After all that time, what did he even have to throw up?”

Lambert’s mouth fell open before a few incredulous, but genuine notes of laughter tumbled out of it. “You’re disgusting, oh my god. Why would you even talk about that?”

Ripley’s smile turned into something more sly, but no less warm.

“I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to make you laugh.”

Lambert almost choked on thin air. What?

Before she could even attempt to formulate a response to that, Ripley was already flashing her an almost professional smile– almost, because it didn’t reach the amused warmth in her eyes at all– and turning to make her way over to the mess hall, where the others were probably waiting. 

As Lambert watched her go, she began to notice that the buzzing in her head had subsided; in its place, she could feel a soft humming, vibrating through her whole body, seeping through her skin and swirling in her ears like music sometimes did.

She didn’t know how to put a name to the sensation… but maybe, if she was brave enough, she could find out.

[lexabitxh]

C | Arcángel

summary: God’s righteous angle meets Cas.

perspective: third person

word count: 522

“Who are you?”

The arcángel had questioned her. He has never seen her before; there was something different and disturbing about it.

“What are you?!”

He questioned once again, this time his voice much more demanding and aggressive.

She looked down at Castiel, spreading her white wings, her skin glowing like the moon, as her eyes turned white.

“I am, Y/n. Arcángel and Gauardian of reality. I am everything that was, is and will be.” She said.

Castiel’s expression changed from aggressive to concerned. “I’ve never seen you before. Why make an appearance now?” He asked. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” He added.

Castiel stood there before her, watching her take a step closer towards him. Y/n’s expression had changed to serious, putting the fear of God in him, as she had come face to face with him. “Are you questioning your beliefs, Castiel?” She asked.

Cass could feel a knot form in his throat as he was slightly worried. He has come across a lot, but never had he came across an angel he has never known.

“Allow me to show you who I truly am”

She said, touching his forehead as she had shown him glimpse of her true form and everything she has done for centuries since the dawn of time. Once she had shown him, she pulled away and stared at him.

“You…”

She nodded. “I was there to help God created light and darkness” she explained. “I was there to help create the sky and dry lands. The seas and plants. The sun, moon, and stars. I was there for it all.” She told him. “I stood beside him through it all. Until this very moment” she added.

Castiel felt a wave of anger. He pushed her up against the wall, holding her by her blouse. “Why has he abounded us!? Why hasn’t he shown himself to us!?” He yelled. Y/n stared at him, her green eyes soften with peace.

“Without faith there is no God. One must believe in order to please him, because anyone who approaches him must believe that he exists, and that he rewards those who seek him.” She told him.

“Castiel, your time will come when you’ll be able to meet him” she assured. “But as of now, you have a mission here on earth” she told him. “And I’ve been sent here to help you.”

Cass couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but she had restored his hope. He let go of her and backed away as he looked anywhere but her eyes. “I’m sorry… it’s just-” “Don’t apologize, Castiel. It’s all forgiven” she smiled.

“Now, would you kindly show me around? My stay on earth is extended and I’ve heard you’ve adapted well here” she said. Cass smiled a little, “Well I can introduce you to my friends and show you what it means to be a hunter”

Cass was slowly, but surely growing a connection with the arcángel. And with time, he’d grow feelings he never thought would be possible.

A/n: hii, I normally post on Wattpad, but it seems like I’m getting a lot more attention on here. However, if you’d love to head over to Wattpad, my username is lydia29_ . Hope you enjoyed this oneshot. Also, if you know the reference to her powers, you’re a true one.

[roeroe-world]

the quiet girl. (a different world)

starring: normani kordei as effie woods, gary dourdan as shazza zulu

set in 1992.

warning: detailed smut, use of profanity

Effie stayed to herself during most of her time at Hillman College. She happened to be the pretty, quiet girl whom minded her business. Always dressed to the nines, rarely ever in sweats and if so she styled them perfectly. Many guys would hit on her yet she turned them down, not seeming to be interested in anybody attending Hillman.

Money definitely ran in the family due to the designer items she would often sport. Her hair and nails were always done. She gave off high class, high maintenance and if you wanted to talk to her… you needed to come correct.

Her aura and mystique nature caught the attention of one particular man. She wasn’t exactly his type but something about her left him enthralled, curious. He thought she was one of the most beautiful women on this campus.

From the way she carried herself, the stride of her walk, it was a clear indication that she took care of herself.

The young woman possessed gorgeous glowing dark skin that left him mesmerized. His intense gaze would follow her wherever she would go, trying to figure out the perfect time to speak to her. Honestly, she made him a little nervous which was a first. No woman possessed the power of making him nervous. Not even Freddie.

Though, finally, today, he built the courage to approach her. “Hey, I’m Shazza. Shazza Zulu.” His sultry low gaze remaining amongst her captivating beauty while he introduced himself, holding out a hand for her to shake it.

Her doe brown eyes glancing up from her textbook to meet his low pair, noticing him piercing a hole into her being. It creeped her out a bit but she excused his actions considering the fact that he’s a very attractive man. She found his deep voice alluring.

“Effie, Effie Woods.” Her tone is soft, exuding grace. “Pleasure meeting you.” The feeling of her palm against his makes him smirk.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Their hands disconnected moments after. “I’ve been seeing you around campus for awhile now and today I decided why not come over here to speak after all this time.” Truthfully, it had been months.

Analyzing his attire, she nods not really possessing much to say. All she knows is that he’s fine but she didn’t like his get up. He dressed pretty strange. From his attire and dreads she might’ve guessed he was a hippie. He was different, she liked that.

“I was wondering if I could take you out…?” His light green eyes scanning her frame, landing on her exposed cleavage before falling upon her red stained plump lips then her swirling brown irises.

Effie nearly shivered at his actions, feeling herself grow hot. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Of course.” She replies, a grin etched across her glowing canvas, pulling out a piece of paper to jot her number down before handing it to him, standing to her feet. “Call me.” Looking the male up and down once more, Effie struts off into the opposite direction.

She left his head turning, watching the woman as she walked off. “Mm..” He grunts, enjoying the view. The moment she’s no longer in his peripheral, a grin creeps upon his facial features at the piece of paper in his hand.

Little did they know, Ron had been watching the pair the entire time with his jaw agape. The conversation was brief but he was close enough to hear everything. He observed Effie, noticing how she maintained her undivided attention on Shazza. Ron had been trying to spit game at Effie for the longest yet she turned him down every time. She wouldn’t even look at him for longer than thirty seconds.

Though, all it took was for Shazza to introduce himself and ask her out for the young woman to give up her number in an instant.

“Yo, man…” He began, waltzing in Shazza’s direction in pure shock. “I’ve been trying to get with that for the longest.” Shazza remains silent, his naturally low green eyes focusing on Ron. “How’d you do it?”

Deeply chuckling, Shazza slowly stands to his feet, preparing to walk away. “First I would stop referring to her as ‘that’. She isn’t an object.” Before Ron could respond, he saunters past him smoothly.

Looking dumbfounded, Ron glances around in slight embarrassment before kissing his teeth. “She isn’t an object.” He mocks the male, attempting to imitate his baritone and waltzing off.

————

Weeks flew by and sparks were flying, Shazza and Effie found themselves going on more dates after their eventful first one. At first, she feared he wouldn’t be her cup of tea but she had nothing to fear. They both equally enjoyed one another’s company. Even when they weren’t on dates, they would just hang out.

His perspective on life intrigued her. Truly, everything about Shazza intrigued Effie. They possessed completely two different backgrounds yet that’s one of the reasons why they were so close.

Hanging out with him changed her for the better. She became more social and not only just social, more open-minded. He broadened her world, helping her to see things for more than what they were. He was different than any other man she was ever romantically involved with.

Financially, he isn’t wealthy. But he was rich in spirit and soul. He wasn’t a snob. That’s all that mattered.

“What is this place?” Observing the grass and a nearby pond, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. It seems as if he’d brought her to a forest of some sort. The sky began to grow dark. Plus, she isn’t much of a fan of nature. The bugs, the mud, wasn’t exactly her cup of tea.

“My spot.” He disconnects their hands to saunter backward while holding out his arms with a grin. “Surprise.” His grin hadn’t fallen even after seeing the look on her face.

“Do you not see what I’m wearing?”

The young woman happened to be dressed in a designer outfit as per usual. Though, it was pretty much loungewear, it still cost a grip.

“My outfit is gonna get dirty out here.” She whines earning a deep chuckle.

“Can’t be afraid to get dirty every now and then, Effie.”

Shazza began to walk ahead of the beauty, leading her further into the grassy area. She fights her smile at his multilayered response, mindlessly following him.

It wouldn’t be long before the pair were seated on the grass, watching the pond as the two would take turns tossing nearby rocks into the body of water. “Do you think there’s anything in there?” He shrugs before observing the woman taking off her shoes and boldly sitting her bare pedicured feet into the warm water, wiggling her red painted toes.

“Wait.” Effie immediately positions her undivided attention onto the male next to her being. “I think I saw something moving.” A splash is heard as she snatches her feet out of the water frantically.

“What? Where?”

Laughter passes his throat, tossing his head backward while she glanced around in confusion. “What’s so funny, Shazza?”

“I was just kidding.” Sending a playful slap to his shoulder, she couldn’t help but to join him. He grasps both of her feet, sitting them on his lap as he began to wash and caress the pair using the pond water.

Silence falls between the pair and Effie found herself scanning the side of his canvas. His cheekbones sat perfectly high. Facial hair trimmed and not too messy. His dreads fell perfectly above his shoulders. “If this is your spot… why’d you bring me here? This should be your own personal, sacred place.” He turns his head to face her. Their eyes immediately connecting. Don’t even get her started on his eyes.

He was the most captivating man she’d ever set her eyes upon.

“You’re right, I didn’t have to bring you here. But I did. Why? Because I wanted you to see what I see.”

“And what’s that?” Their eye contact intensifying by the minute.

“The beauty of nature…” He starts, observing their surroundings passionately. “Not many people appreciate it as they should. Nature provides us with a lot of the resources we need. The air we breathe, the food we eat. You know what I mean, you’re a smart girl.”

Effie remains silent, eyeing his being closely. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of him since he began talking. “Aren’t you?”

She snaps out of her daze, “Huh?” He sends her a look, raising a brow. “Oh yeah, I’m smart. Very smart.” Chuckling nervously, she looks away and onto the pond in front of them. “But yeah… I totally understand what you’re saying. Nature can be a beautiful thing.” Now he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, staring her down intensely.

The glow of the moon began to shine against her deeply melanated skin. His top row of pearly whites embedded into bottom lip at the sight.

“Moments ago, you were complaining about getting dirty.”

“So?” She began to grow defensive.

“I’m just throwing that out there. I just… find it funny.”

“Can I throw something out there while we’re just throwing things around?” Although she was serious, Shazza couldn’t help but to laugh slightly at her choice of words. “Yes, you can.”

“This may sound weird but…” She began. No longer caring, “You give me brain orgasms, y’know like—” He immediately stops what he’s doing to stare in her direction. “You stimulate me mentally… that’s what I, um, meant.” Suddenly, his hands slides from her feet to her exposed bottom legs.

“Do I stimulate you anywhere else, Effie?”

Effie nearly gulps at his inquiry and actions, trying to avoid eye contact but he gently forced her chin in his direction. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” The energy between the couple instantly shifted. It was sexually charged.

It was very obvious that the two possessed sexual tension. They’d only gone as far as kissing for the most part. But during their time together, there was a lot of pent up sexual energy.

The couple began to stare into one another’s irises, not exchanging a word. He’d asked a question he already knew the answer to, Shazza just desired to hear her say it. He noticed she wasn’t too big on expressing her emotions, she bottled up a lot of things… but he was going to change all of that tonight.

He wasn’t going to act upon anything unless she spoke up.

“I asked you a question.” He starts. “I expect you to answer.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she boldly replies, “I can show you better than I can tell you.”

“What are you waiting for then?”

His inquiry caught her off guard. Nonetheless, she takes matters into her own hands and climbs onto his lap before connecting their lips into a passionate yet loving union. Just from their kiss, they could tell they wouldn’t just be fucking… they were bound to make love.

Effie’s lips moved along with his smoothly, taking their sweet time. They had all night to do whatever they desired to do to one another. Having sex in an unknown place and in some grass is not exactly what Effie envisioned their first time together would be. But it was happening. Tonight was the night.

Lifting up her waist, Shazza gave her a hand in taking off her lacy underwear. Smirking, he places them into his pocket. “I’ll be keeping these.” Giggling, she helps him get undressed, their lips never tearing apart.

Her flowy dress coming over her head, messing up her hair which was left in its natural state. Shazza helped her embrace her 3c curls so she wore them out more often. No makeup, no clothes, no extra anything, there she was… completely bare and he loved it.

“You’re so perfect.” Her eyes fluttered lovingly in his direction at his compliment as his bare masculine hands caressed her soft back, pushing his love inside earning a loud moan. He called for the most high to not let him come so quick at the sensation she possessed. Wet, tight, and warm. She felt amazing wrapped around him.

Mouth agape, she bounces on him slowly yet still adjusting to his size. He was big. Bigger than she imagined. But he felt so good.

“Oh, Shazza…” His name falls off of her tongue in a high-pitched tone as the curve of his long, thick phallus jabbed at her spot. His lips meeting the crook of her neck to plant sensual kisses. “Fuck…” She curses, her eyebrows furrowing together in bliss, hands tightening around his shoulders.

A plethora of moans escapes her throat, tossing her head backward. The pace of her hips growing increasingly faster. “Oh, shit.” Shazza groans while fucking her from underneath the moaning young woman, head planted in her neck as his hands slid to her backside.

The sounds she produced and the mess she was leaving on his lap nearly left him speechless. He found himself glancing at the sight of where their bodies met, top row of pearly whites digging into his bottom lip. Her love faces were heavenly. The way she rode him into ecstasy was so effortless.

“You’re doing so good, love.” He praises her, her large breasts bouncing in his face. “How are you feeling? Am I making you feel good?” His questions left her whining out a, “…yes..” in between her moans and cries.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Talk to me.” Shazza’s head was no longer buried into the crook of her neck. They were face to face, giving one another lustful looks full of hunger. He wanted her to be vocal so he was going to make her, whether she liked it or not.

Swiftly, he lifts both of her legs and holds the pair around his arms, widening them to go deeper as if he isn’t deep enough. Effie was no longer in control, Shazza took the upper hand. His strokes growing rough yet passionate, he wanted her to feel every vein and every stroke. He wanted her to feel the passion of his love inside her, physically and emotionally.

“Unh, unh, unh,” She moans with each stroke, eyeballs rolling to the back of her head. “Ah, so fucking good, baby. You feel so fucking good inside of me.” Shazza was slightly taken off guard by her dirty talk. “Don’t stop…” He never would’ve imagined the quietest girl at Hillman being so slutty for him.

It turned him on beyond measures.

“Fuck…” Sweat beads trailing upon his captivating canvas. “I won’t.” Amongst finding her spot, he kept pounding into that gumminess. A squeal passes her throat as she tries to hold it but she couldn’t, squirting onto his lap and pelvic area uncontrollably.

“Shazza…” A knowing grin creeps upon his pink lips at the sight, the high-pitched screams of his name meeting his eardrums. “It’s okay. Baby, let it all out. You’re doing so good. Taking me so well. So wet…” The gushiness and the smacking noises of their love making were intensifying. Their eyes connecting yet again, feeling the intensity of their sexcapades. Mouths agape in bliss.

Hearing her scream his name. The consistency of her squirting. The wetness she possessed left him hooked. At this point, they were hooked on each other.

Shazza’s pace quickened and Effie found herself bouncing up and down on top of him, faster than hydraulics just like how their orgasm was approaching. “Wanna feel you come inside of me, please…” She repeated the word ‘please’, indicating how fucked out she was.

Effie was dickmatized, completely drunk off of his dick. Babbling, nearly drooling as she used him as her toy. He allowed her to do so, enjoying this side of her.

She was no longer the quiet, innocent— actually she probably never was. It just took the right person for her open up and lay it all out on the table. Effie did just that. “Gonna cum, oh, yes…” The young woman pants, loving the feeling of her insides being dug in. Shazza watches her, maintaining the same exact pace.

“I want you to come for me, beautiful. Let it all out.” He practically moans as she tightens around his thick phallus, his orgasm approaching. “That’s it. Shit…” They began to caress one another’s back, peering into each other’s low eyes.

“I love you, ah, I love you, Shazza!” She shouts to the top of her lungs, legs shaking while her juices came pouring out of her. “I love you, fuck…” Without warning, the couple released themselves, holding one another tightly. Their bodies shook in unison, riding their highs.

The moon above was their only source of light, faintly shining amongst the couple as silence fell between the two. Both covered in each other’s sweat and Effie’s nectar, neither didn’t mind. None of their surroundings mattered, bringing themselves back to reality.

“I meant it when I said I loved you.” She speaks her truth, rebirthing herself.

These past couple of weeks— more like months were more than just the two hanging out. She was really growing to like him then soon that intense feeling of infatuation transitioned into love. She fell for him and she couldn’t hide it anymore.

Shazza brought her to climax without sex. He had her on edge even when he didn’t touch her. During their time together, she’d grown to realize she was sapiosexual. Despite that, she’d really fallen in love with Shazza.

“I meant it when I said I loved you too.” After his reply, he sends a loving peck to her lips. A bright smile fell upon her canvas, beginning to play with his beautiful dreadlocks and stare in his direction lovingly.

Neither of them moved a muscle due to the couple being much too tired to.

[theodorecanaryhood]

The tale of the Robin who never loved

Jason Todd x Male Reader (including swearing and sex)

Happy pride 🏳️‍🌈

A dark abandoned warehouse filled with the screams of Jason Todd, the second Robin. The angry teenager who got too cocky.

Joker had just about done all methods of torture on the young man, laughing hysterically the whole time. Fear and sadness was all Jason could feel right now.

Jason never loved his whole life, his parents were just as bad as most of the scum who roamed the streets at night in Gotham. Jason lived in the streets, then being adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason found it hard to love the man he now calls Dad, feeling like he was only adopted into the Wayne line to replace his older brother, Dick. Not there because Bruce loved and cared for him.

So, here it was now in present day Gotham City, with Jason, or rather currently Red Hood, dishing what he was given all his life.

His unhealthy amount of anger was fostered by a pair of personas, until the day it was finally released on anyone who crossed him the wrong way.

Jason was not a happy man nor was he an empathetic man, at least not to those he didn’t care much for. He, of course, would make it very obvious. If Jason didn’t like you, there was no changing it, he did not like you.

Half the time there was no reason behind it, he just didn’t want to be open to new people. So used dislike as an excuse.

One particular humid night on patrol, humidity, heat and anger are never a good mix FYI, Jason was just not in the mood to give in. Patrol was rough, and criminals would be on the receiving end unfortunately.

The night club was loud tonight as the music blared, so loud the floor vibrated violently. Though no one cared, alcohol mixed with lights. People were never caring to complain the nightclub music hurt their ears.

Jason in particular stood out as he sat alone at the bar, drinking neat whiskey, more neat whiskey, shots, neat whiskey.

Was he drinking to forget? Feel better? Sleep better?

Jason didn’t know at this point as he poured the booze down his throat, waiting for the affects to kick in. One thing from the pit, was his tolerance got better, would drink way more than the average man and still had no affect. Drunkenness was not easy to come by.

The music was a good choice as Jason just listened and hummed along, to himself and just enjoyed the feel and the beat.

‘Hey handsome’ a woman smiled as she approached Jason.

Not unattractive to be fair as she stood a good height, roughly about 5’6, blonde curly hair, night dress. Great legs and soft skin. Big, blue eyes, not overdone with the fake tan and makeup.

‘Hi’ Jason side smiled, the woman placed her hand on Jason’s bicep, having a good feel.

‘I’m Elena, wanna dance with me?’ She asked, not letting go of Jason’s arm.

‘Sorry, Elena, I’m not really a dancer’ he replied politely, trying to pull his arm out of her grip.

Jason had his admirers but never cared much to let it go anywhere. To be fair, Jason knew his type, he just never met anyone from that.

‘It’s ok, we can have some drinks and see where the night goes’ Elena continued, flicking her hair behind her shoulder.

‘We can have a drink, I really don’t mind. Could use company’ Jason agreed, Elena getting happy as she sat next to him.

The two spoke for a while as they got past the first name basis, talking about music interests, different types of cocktails they liked.

‘So, you wanna have that dance now?’ Elena asked after a minute of talking about random music choice.

‘Still not a dancer, sorry’ Jason reminded, Elena smiled as she shrugged.

‘No problem hotness, we can go back to my place and have a different kind of dance’ Elena laughed.

‘You are a very beautiful woman Elena, but you’re really not my type’ Jason responded as politely as possible.

Elena looked at Jason annoyed as she sighed, looking him the eyes.

‘What would make me your type?’ She asked, Jason chuckled a little.

‘My type is toned, dark haired, nice eyes, great smile, male’ Jason informed, Elena clocked on and nodded.

‘Got it’ she said, sliding off the chair and walking away with her drink.

Jason laughed a little as he started on his next drink. Not paying attention to anything as he found humour in the situation he was just in.

That’s when he knocked someone’s arm and spilt their drink all over them, Jason’s eyes shot wide as he turned to them.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry, so sorry’ Jason apologised profusely to the male figure standing next to him.

‘It’s ok, really I didn’t look where I was going’ you said, seeing as Jason stared at you.

Call it enough and it’ll happen as Jason looked at you, toned, nice eyes, great smile, dark hair and male. Shit.

‘Let me buy you another drink’ Jason said as he urged you to stay next to him.

‘It’s ok’ you placed a hand on his shoulder, Jason insisting.

‘No really, it’s only polite, I knocked your drink out of your hand the least I should do is buy you another’ Jason kept insisting as he got the bartender over.

‘Hey, can I get another…uh’ Jason looked at you, you laughed.

‘God father’

‘Right, another one please’ Jason said to the bartender as he paid for the drink.

‘Feel like I should take you out to dinner’ you chuckled to Jason as he handed you the drink.

Jason looked at you with his eyebrows raised, smiling a little.

‘I mean, you brought me a drink so I should get you dinner’

Jason kicked the bar stool next to him to invite you to sit down, which you did.

The two of you sat for ages as you laughed and talked about life, having quite a deep conversation. You couldn’t deny this handsome stranger was quite intriguing.

‘I’m Jason Todd by the way, just realised I haven’t told you my name’ Jason held out his hand.

‘Y/n y/l/n’ you shook his hand with a bright smile.

The night got late as you looked down to see it was almost 1 in the morning, you didn’t even register how late it had gotten.

‘Crap, is that the time?’ You said looking at your phone screen.

‘Curfew?’ Jason asked jokingly as you smiled, nodding.

‘Something like that, was telling my roommate I wouldn’t be out too late tonight’ you stood up as Jason looked a little upset.

‘Well, if I give you my number will I get that dinner you promised?’ Jason asked, holding your hand.

‘Yeah, here’ you pulled a marker from behind the counter and wrote on Jason’s arm, your number of course.

‘Don’t wash that arm till you save my number’ you winked as you have Jason a kiss on the cheek.

Jason was almost floating the whole way home as he kept thinking about you, literally all he thought about for the 15 minute walk was you.

Your laugh, your smile…everything about you, Jason just wanted to go see you now.

‘What the hell?’ Jason said to himself as he got to his front door, wondering why he was like this all of a sudden.

First date was great, you gave Jason what he promised. Second date, Jason promised to kiss you spontaneously. And he did.

Jason stood with you under an archway as he took your hand in his, pulling you in and giving you a deep kiss. The kiss almost made you stop breathing as your heart stopped too, for about 30 seconds.

The kiss was all Jason could think about for the next couple of days, he couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. How good it made him feel.

It had been so long since Jason had kissed a guy he was sure he’d do something wrong, but you were so laid back. It took the pressure off.

Jason stood staring at himself in the mirror as he adjusted his shirt collar, he sprayed himself again. Thinking about how the next part was coming.

You entered Jason’s apartment after he kissed you at the door, all Jason wanted to do was kiss you. All the time.

There was a nice candlelit dinner with some light music on in the background, though no one paid attention to the music.

Jason couldn’t help the aching twitch in his pants as he looked at you, holding your hand from the other side of the table.

You weren’t doing much better either as all you could concentrate on right now was the same thing, the twitch.

Jason stood up as he took your hands in his and stood you up, kissing you passionately all of a sudden. A kiss you welcomed.

You pulled Jason in and pressed yourself up against his body, a body you’d been dying to see.

Jason slid your shirt off as you didn’t even register he’d unbuttoned it, you unbuttoning Jason’s. Running your hand down his torso, looking down and almost gasping.

‘Wow, you’re ripped’ you smiled.

A sigh of relief came from Jason as he pulled you in for another kiss, a relief that you never once commented on the scar filled body.

Jason lifted you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist, taking you to his room. Throwing you on his bed.

Jason pulled your pants down, your underwear and greeted your throbbing, hard dick with his mouth.

You threw your head back into the pillow as you moaned out, a breath escaped from your mouth in sheer joy.

Jason worked on your shaft like a pro as you moaned out, Jason held your hips in place as he went to work.

The bliss from his new found hobby was a feeling you didn’t know you could have, Jason holding you down so he could do all the work.

Jason came up to your face as he gave you another deep kiss, his tongue tasted of your pleasure. Though he wasn’t ready for you to finish yet.

He rolled you onto your stomach as he pulled your legs apart, Jason’s tongue tearing into your hole. Giving kisses to your ass cheeks, along with bites.

Jason was so hard it was hurting him but he wasn’t ready until you were, he wanted you to tell him how much you needed him. Jason was polite like that.

Jason dug his fingertips into your cheeks while his tongue devoured the hole, you gasping in pleasure.

‘Jason, I want you’ you breathed out, you felt Jason smile while his face was against you.

‘You sure?’ Jason asked, you grabbed at Jason’s leg, urging him to come closer.

You rolled on your back and kissed Jason deeply again, his lips were something special. You’d never had kisses like his before.

His kisses were hungry almost as Jason would grab and pull you close, yet he was also light when kissing, he would lightly peck before getting deeper.

‘Holy, wow’ you gasped as Jason took off his underwear.

There it was, Jason’s prize for your patience, his hard and throbbing dick, at least at a good 9/10 inches.

‘Come here baby’ Jason said sweetly, pulling you closer to him.

Jason lay you on your back while he kissed you, laying in between your spread open legs. Jason was lined up and ready.

You guys had spoken about protection already, you telling Jason you’re allergic to latex, so Jason took the responsibility to get latex free condoms.

Jason slid into you slowly, you buried your face into his shoulder, taking deep breaths. Jason entered and stayed there for a few seconds.

‘You ok babe?’ He asked you, you nodding as you breathed your way through it.

‘Yeah, feels amazing’ you smiled, Jason pecked your nose.

‘You want poppers?’ He asked sweetly, you shook your head.

‘No, just fuck me’ you urged as Jason began to move slowly.

Slow and small thrusts to start as No to brag, but Jason was aware he was quite big in the genital department, so he usually had to take his time when having sex with someone new.

‘Oh God, that feels amazing’ you breathed out, Jason smiled as he saw your face. Biting your lip, closing your eyes while your head was back in the pillow.

‘My sweet Angel’ Jason whispered as he picked up a quicker pace.

It had been a while for Jason so he was aware to take it slow, not to finish too quickly. Also, he was enjoying the view of you.

‘Jason, oh God’ you couldn’t find words as Jason began to move faster. Testing how fast he could go with you.

The more Jason sped up the more you loved it, so Jason began going quicker to a point where he was slapping against you.

‘I wanna sit on you’ you said as you urged Jason to roll on his back.

You slid back onto Jason’s dick while he lay down, you sitting on top.

You slid up and down slow for about a minute, running your hands up and down Jason’s arms and chest, then you began to go quicker.

‘Fuck, baby, y/n’ Jason almost shouted as you began to bounce quicker, allowing Jason to go balls deep inside you.

Jason took his hands away from your waist as he put one hand under his head, laying back. The other hand resting in your thigh.

Your hips moving as you began to jerk yourself, Jason taking his time to let you finish first.

‘Oh God I’m so close’ you moaned as you lay down on your back, your seed spilling everywhere. On Jason’s chest, the bed.

Jason chuckled as he started to pick up a quicker pace, you sat back up straight, feeling Jason inside you still.

‘Oh fuck, fuck’ Jason growled as he began to feel himself getting closer and closer.

‘Come in me’ you called out, neglecting the fact that the neighbours could hear you two.

Jason lifted his hips off the bed slowly and sharply as he got the end. Throwing his head back into the pillow.

You lay next to Jason as he caught his breath, while you kissed at his neck and shoulder.

‘I really need to clean up’ Jason smiled as he kissed your head, rolling out of bed.

Time went on and the two of you became more and more inseparable, after about 6 months Jason asked if you wanted to move your stuff to his apartment. You of course, accepting.

‘I really want to suck your dick’ Jason randomly said to you while you were cooking dinner, you smiled a little.

Jason lifted you off your feet and rested you on the counter, pulling your pants down as he went to work. Swallowing the load that came out.

‘Save the energy for dessert babe’ you smiled, Jason slapping your ass, pressing himself into you.

The two of you just had so much fun together and Jason was not even surprised or scared the first time you told him you loved him. He just wrapped you up in a hug, telling you he feels the same.

There was more to the relationship than just spurts if sex in the day, night and other times. Mean, you and Jason had sex nearly every night.

The other parts of the relationship was Jason surprising you to a trip away, Bruce’s beach house, a weekend getaway trip, a shopping trip. There really wasn’t anything Jason hadn’t surprised you with.

You introduced Jason to all the local Gay bars, you took him on his first pride March. Most precious to Jason, you just loved him hard. Probably the hardest anyone has ever loved him.

Jason Todd, the Robin who never loved, had changed dramatically and was mad at himself for so long going without you, for himself refusing to love and be loved. You helped him as he was now able to not only love you, but himself.

[jokerislandgirl32]

what sort of cosmetics does violet enjoy? does she get her nails done a lot?

Hi anon! Thank you for the ask! This is such a fun idea to think about! Admittedly, I’m the person that wears no makeup, literally…I can’t wear eye makeup, I don’t like the feeling of lip or face makeup, and I freak out if nail polish chips….so no makeup for me! But that doesn’t mean I can’t experiment with makeup through Violet! See below the cut for the detailed explanation!

The makeup Violet typically enjoys/uses are various eye makeups, tinted lip balms, and nail polish. Violet has tried face makeup like foundation and blush before, but this makeup just doesn’t make sense to her. She is not uncomfortable with the way the skin on her face looks, she’s actually very comfortable with her complexion, so she does not see the need or necessity to wear such face makeup.

But the eye makeup is a different story. Once Violet stopped wearing glasses as a teenager, which was after she got Lasik surgery to correct her vision, Violet began to experiment with purple hued eye make up. She embraced the fact that she had such dark blue/nearly Violet eyes like her mother, and she wanted to emphasize this fact. So…she got purple eye shadow and purple eye liner and started experimenting to find the perfect combinations to highlight her blue violet eyes.

When doing her eye makeup Violet has a few different styles she will gravitate towards, depending on the day/events of the day to come. On a regular day she likes to keep the makeup more light and low key (with the first image being her usual go to look):

(Image Links: One, Two, and Three)

But if Violet is performing for Donita, or she is going to a special event with Zach, she will go for more vibrant shades and styles:

(Image Links: One, Two, and Three)

Violet has used mascara at times, but she sometimes dislikes the feeling of it on her lashes, so this is more of a maybe for her in regards to eye makeup.

For lip makeup, as I mentioned, I do not feel like Violet is a huge lipstick or lipgloss wearer. I think she feels like these products are sticky, so she prefers a smoother lip color option, namely tinted lip balms. Violet’s favorite shade is light pink, something that simply enhances her natural lip color:

(Image Links: One, Two)

For the nails, Violet either likes to have her nails painted, or she will leave them natural and have them cut and trimmed nicely. Her preferred nail polish colors are various shades of purple, pink, silver, or pearl/cream colors. Such as the examples below:

Image Links (One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, and Eight)

Violet is the girl that will file her nails everyday to make sure they are not unsightly or uneven. As a piano player, Violet likes to keep her nails short because, for her, it makes the process of playing much easier. She also cannot stand if the polish chips, so she often will repaint her nails when this happens or she’ll leave then natural for a bit then repaint them later.

Violet is not one to go out and get her nails done, she feels very self conscious about going to a nail salon. Yes, she has the funds to do so, aka Zach’s credit cards, but she feels like this is something that a snooty person would do. She never wants to become such a person because that’s not in her nature, so she sticks to doing her nails at home.

When she was younger, Violet and her cousin Paige did each other’s nails. Once she goes to work for Zach, Violet will either do her nails herself, have the Zachbots help her, or Donita, Dabio, and Zach have done/helped her with her nails at times.

I hope this answer your question anon! Thanks for the ask!

[juststoriesintheend]

Epilogue

Chapter Pairing(s): Osha Aniseya x f!Reader; Master Sol x f!Reader

Chapter Content: angst, canonical character deaths, grief/grieving

Word Count: 1,403

《 [series masterlist] 》 《 I 》 《 II 》 《 III 》

“Since when are you a medic?” You watch her curiously over the rim of your cup.

Osha barely suppresses rolling her eyes. “I know enough to take your vitals.”

That’s hardly an answer, but you don’t push for more. You’d rather enjoy the silence this task requires anyway. There is much to think about. Feelings you thought would never truly see the light of day have been brought to the surface of your subconscious and forcibly acknowledged. The pain of the past and the uncertainty of the future clouds your mind. It’s awful.

You keep thinking about what bits of the previous night you can remember - skin and tongues wet with spit and come, Osha’s body, her voice, the sound of her orgasm and the taste of it in your mouth… You stop that thought before it can go any farther, but you can’t stop it from affecting your body in the here and now. Osha glances at you from the corner of her eyes and if the way you squirm makes her think anything specific, she doesn’t say it. But you feel so embarrassed you could die.

What have you done? What have you allowed yourself to do? You know logically that this isn’t your fault, nor is it Osha’s. There was no way to know that a tumble down a sand dune would infect you with the blinding need for pleasure at all costs, just like there was no way for Osha to have done anything differently. She saved your life. You just wish you hadn’t enjoyed it so much.

“You okay?” Osha looks small in this light, almost as if her stature has shrunk since last night (when she stood over you with her belt in her hands and-).

“Fine,” you reply with a nod. You can’t bring yourself to smile, not even to ease the tension.

It’s just that you’re about as far from ‘fine’ as you can possibly get. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. No self-respecting Jedi would ever lose themselves to such blind sexual passion, not even if they were more liberally minded and chose not to abstain as part of their practice. No self-respecting Jedi would let a former Padawan five years their junior fuck them into oblivion. And no self-respecting Jedi would then wake from their stupor and feel torn between their duties to the Order and the desires of their heart.

Neither would any self-respecting Jedi feel all those deep and intricate feelings, and still manage to feel the bite of affection for that Padawan’s Master. Sol’s been gone for you don’t even know how long, or where he is, and it hurts to feel his absence when you otherwise feel so emotionally stripped bare.

What is wrong with you?

“Look, I know that what we did was… it wasn’t what you would have wanted. But I couldn’t think of any other way to save you.”

Why does it hurt so much to see how deeply the admission cuts for her? Because you know it’s your own fault?

“Hey.” Your hand finds hers. It’s the first time in six years you’ve been in your right mind and also able to touch her. Like you once did. “I’m not upset. You saved my life.”

Osha smiles, and it’s the same sad smile she gave you when she told you she was leaving the Order. The memory hurts more than a saber to your own throat might. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good friend.”

The agonizing realization strikes you then that you want to kiss her sorrow away, to breathe new life into her the way she did for you. That she’s not just pretty, but beautiful, all grown up and brave and so, so strong. She’s not the eighteen year old who left the Order anymore. She’s so much more than that.

“You’re the best friend I could have ever asked for.” Your thumb rubs gently over the back of her hand; it’s the only kiss you trust yourself to give her. “I’m glad it was you.” And it’s terrifying how true that sentiment really is.

Osha knows you, though. She always has. She sees the things you’ve never been able to speak aloud, and she sees them all now, even through the burning sting of her tears. “But it can’t be anything more,” she concludes with all the finality of a true Jedi.

You find yourself crying too as you shake your head. “No. It can’t.”

You never tell her this, not even in the moments after landing on Coruscant or the heartbeats before departing for your quarters because you know it wouldn’t be fair to either of you, but you think you could have loved her if you’d given yourself the chance. Maybe even as much as you love Sol now. It’s for the best that you’ll never know for sure.

The Temple feels empty without him, like it did in the first year after Osha left. You’ve grown so accustomed to sensing his presence through the Force, even if he was far away from you, that to not feel at all is destabilizing. Like how it was with Osha. But it’s more than that.

Master Paan is dead. Yord is dead. So is Jecki. And now Sol…

Master Vernestra has spoken with the Council in your place and asked for a more permanent leave of absence from your usual duties. You would have gone yourself, but the last time you tried you broke down sobbing in the lift.

This is the attachment your Master always warned you about. She tried so hard to teach you how to be a good Jedi, but even in the wake of her death you manage to fail her. Perhaps you’re not the Jedi you thought you were. Perhaps you never were.

You think of Sol. His smile comes to mind, then his eyes. The gentle timbre of his voice, the calm and patient wisdom he always carried with him. You think of Sol, and then you think of the things that Master Vernestra said when she came to tell you why the Khofar team wasn’t coming back, and it feels like a Wookiee’s punching you in the throat. You can’t breathe.

You can’t fucking breathe.

The nerve endings in your legs are ablaze and you reach for the nearest solid, sturdy thing to keep yourself balanced, but you miss. And you fall. And when you lift your head and peer through the gauzy curtain of your tears, you see the overturned chair and the leg of the table and the shattered pieces of the incense pot Sol gave you for your birthday two years ago. And everything feels so hot and tight and wrong inside your head, it’s like you’re back on Savareen and your body’s fighting for its life, but this time there’s no antidote. There’s no Osha to fuck you back to life. There’s no magic potion to stop your heart from giving out. There’s no brilliant, burning sun to light up your life anymore.

Some fucked up part of you feels angry, like there’s someone to blame for all of this. Maybe it was Osha and her cowardice that’s led you here. Or the idiotic blush of love that’s been fogging your mind for the past eight years. Maybe it was Master Paan’s fault for taking you on as her Padawan when she should have known all along you weren’t meant for this life. Maybe it’s Sol’s fault. Maybe it’s yours. Maybe it’s the Force in all its fucked up glory trying to place roadblock after roadblock in your path, frantically trying to reroute you as you barrel into the unknown like a moron.

You don’t realize you’ve been screaming until you find yourself being shaken into the present. There’s a lovely streak of white and green, and a steadying voice that urges you to take a breath, and you try so hard, but fail so spectacularly. How can you breathe when they’re not here? How can you breathe when Sol isn’t waiting in his room to meditate with you? How can you breathe when your Master isn’t here to guide you through her own death? How can you breathe without Osha? Force help you, where is Osha??

“Breathe deeply,” Master Vernestra instructs even as you cling to her desperately. “It will pass.”

But you’re not sure it ever will.

taglist: @wolffegirlsunite @thatlittlered @evyiione @padawancat97

if you'd like to be updated whenever i post, you can sign up here! and if you want a continuation of the story, please let me know!

[cartierdreamx]

Hacked into you - 2 (AU)

Hi!!! OMG, I am so sorry for the long wait for part 2, I just started uni and I’ve been so caught up with that, with my other works of writing and just life in general, slightly sorry for the teasing in this chapter (I’m not hehe) but I really do hope you enjoy, this isn’t my best work but I needed to get this chapter done with some progress. Anyways, I hope you enjoy <333 Also, I might start taking requests for Jenna and Jenna’s characters to keep me occupied with writing somethings in between writing these chapters, if anyone is interested.  

READ PART 1 

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive??? (it’s a whole lot of flirting hehe)

*I plan to write smut in this story and it does have some dark themes like violence involved, the game itself was rated MA15+ where I am from (might be different depending which country you are in) so my fic will be 18+ because I am involving more adult themes, if you do choose to proceed, please keep that in mind*

The Alcohol Talking - 2 

She smirks at me, I want to say something but the lights, the noises and everyone’s eyes on me has me in a standstill. SHE has me in a standstill.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR NEWEST MEMBER OF DEDSEC Y/N”

The cheers boosted and fuelled my adrenaline, not only does the crowd raise my heartrate but there was something else, I could feel my blood heating up my internals, the redness caressing my skin. I can’t quite pinpoint the source, that was until she came to talk to me. The crowd disperses into sections of the beach, some drinking, some dancing, and some off in the water for a swim. Me? I stayed on the sand behind people to admire the view, the beauty of the scenes. We were right beside the golden gate bridge, the bridge is magnificent, that paired with the illuminating skyline of the city, it was breath taking.

“Like the view?” Jenna says

“Hm? Oh- yes, sorry, it’s beautiful.” The view wasn’t the only thing that was beautiful, Jenna, Jenna’s beauty spoke a thousand words to me. The only thing that was left of her identity was her beauty.

“Don’t be sorry love, I’m Jenna” She smiles.

“It’s very nice to meet you ma’am”.

“Ma’am?” She giggles, “you act as if I’m 40 with kids and a 9 to 5”

I smile and huff back at her “it’s a habit of mine, I should knock it, but I love it too much”.

She laughs at me, “I get that, I love giving thumbs up to everyone, any moment I get, I can. So, do you drink?”

“Yes ma’am, socially most of the time, but occasionally if I feel like it I’ll drink at home.”

“I get that and I’m the same, here take this” she hands me a sweet vodka based drink.

“Thank you, kind lady” I take a sip, and my tastebuds welcome the sweetness, because it is vodka there is a hint of a bitter taste, but its bearable.

Jenna and I talk more but honestly, I can’t focus much on her words, how can I? Her beauty spoke louder than her voice, it was as if heaven’s angels crafted her themselves.

“You know, the city lights sparkle nice in your eyes y/n”

“hm?”

She giggles. “well you’ve been staring at me for so long all I can see are reflections in your eyes”

Shit. With the constant drinks in my hand, it didn’t cross my mind that I’ve barely spoken words, I was content just letting her blab on about anything.

“Speechless, aren’t you y/n? yeah figures, I have that effect”

Is she flirting with me? Or is it the alcohol talking? Either way, I can feel my blood rising, making me heat up even more, but I know my cheeks are red too.

“Woahhh okay Jenna, bold of you to assume I’m speechless over you, could just be the alcohol talking”

“Yeah? Well, your cheeks says otherwise”

Fuck. She was right, she does have me speechless, but I can’t let her know that. With the constant joyous screaming and loud music around and the soft waves crashing onto the sand, I needed something to focus on, and that something was her. Granted, even if we were in a calmer environment I’d still be focused on her. In a room full of art, I’d still be focused on her.

“It’s the a-a-alcohol” Seriously? y/n stuttering, stuttering in front of Jenna?

“Stuttering? Wow, I really do have you speechless” She steps closer to me.

I couldn’t say another word, even if I wanted to, my throat was blocked, almost as if she has me under her trance.

“Do I make you nervous, y/n” She takes a step even closer to me, so close now I can feel her body heat, everything about her, everything about me, well I mean yeah, she’s stuck with me this entire night, might just be cause I’m fresh meat, I’d like to think it’s because she wanted to get close to me though.

I let out a gasp.

“Maybe”

One more step towards me and now our bodies were practically touching, she places her hand on my waist.

“Good”

We both take a step back, sit down on the sand and start laughing.

“Fuckkkkkkkk, hahahahaha”

“You know Jenna, if you wanted to kiss me you could’ve just said that”

“Who said I did?”

“Everything you just did”.

“Okay, but, like you just said, just the a-a-alcohol talking” she says mocking me.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Mhmhm maybe, but you like it”.

I did, it made me giggle on the inside, but it made my heart burn even more, not the heartburn, but heart burn. Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it is just the alcohol talking, but everyone second that goes by and she’s still here with me, the feelings grow stronger.

“Did you wanna get some food?”

“Yes please, I haven’t eaten anything all day”.

“And you drank alcohol, that’s a recipe for disaster”.

“Tell me about it, my head is spinning, but the mission made me nervous”.

“That’s fair, but honestly, you were in the second we saw you for the first time, you’re the missing piece we need, the breath of fresh air”.

“That’s sweet of you to say, but let’s get going or else I will start eating this sand”.

“Bahaha okay lil lady, let’s go”.

“Little? Jenna you’re shorter and smaller than me”.

“Touché”.

We both get up slowly, making sure not to fall, or fall on top of each other. The party is still going on, not surprising though, I’ve heard these Dedsec initiation parties go on for hours, until the sun peaks the horizon, if you asked me I’d say it’s about 3am, it’s scenic and peaceful, tranquillity is what I feel when looking out to the city skyline, sonder. Jenna and I both agree that we need something greasy to satisfy our drunken hunger, though by now the alcohol has faded away and we’re both just tired and hungry.

“Come on, I’ll call the uber.”

“Coming!”

As soon as I turn around to follow her, a man dashes into me and knocks me off my feet.

“Fuck! Dude, watch it”. I yell.

I look to see who it is, and my stomach drops when my eyes focus on the face. Dusan Nemec. Dusan. Fucking. Nemec.

[hauntingkiki]

so! a little background/story about me; i’m in two choirs, and i’ve been doing choir for three years now, almost four, and on 5/7/24, we had an awards ceremony concert and I GOT AWARDED!!

so, this story is a little bit inspired about me getting said award and i hope you guys enjoy!:D

(also this is very catholic/religious so if this isn’t your ally then don’t read it!:3 and i apologize if i get anything wrong in this!! i wasn’t born into a catholic/religious household so im not very religious myself so again, i apologize if i get anything wrong! but please feel free to let me know if i messed up anywhere for future requests!)

Congrats, Newbie

Jack Merridew x Choir! Reader

Lord of the Flies

2nd POV

you pulled uncomfortably at the long, black cloak that dropped at your ankles, the frilly white ruffles ticked your neck awkwardly. sweat built up under your armpits and on your palms, making you lift your arms up to somewhat dry your underarms and wipe your hands on your shorts that were under your robe. you turned to one of the girls in your section, jerking your hands up and down with a slight head tilt. “does my uniform look okay?” you asked her softly, dropping your hands back at your side.

she hummed in thought, tapping her chin before fixing your black cap before adjusting the f/c rosary that hung from your neck. she pulled her hands away from your body, eyeing you up and down with furrowed brows. she turned to one of the nearby tenors, tapping his shoulder, she pointed over to you with a quirked brow, muttering to the tall boy.

you shuttered when you made eye contact with the light, icy blue eyes of the tenor which flickered around your frame before going back to your e/c eyes.

his bright, orange curls fought with his black cap that was centered perfectly atop his head. he had pasty skin, dark brown freckles coating every inch of his skin, some dark reds and the same brown color on his lips. he wore the same black robe and black cap like everyone else, but his uniform was slightly different. he had a golden cross stitched into the left side of his robe, indicating he was the leader of this group.

the group you were in.

you noticed his cloak shifting slightly at his waist, faint cracking snapped in the quite air. you put it together that he was popping his knuckles, a nervous habit you noticed he did during rehearsals, warm ups, and performances.

once he was done cracking his fingers, he lifted his hands out from under the black robe and he quickly dusted you off, making sure to not touch you in any weird way. “you should fix your makeup.” he quickly circled a finger in your face before grabbing your rosary and huffing on it, wiping his white button up sleeve across the metal to make it shine slightly more. “it’s creasing.”

your eyes fluttered wide, stumbling over your words, you struggled to find the right sentence. “how much time to i have?” you asked, slipping away from the ginger.

“you have ten minutes.”

“thank you!”

you jogged over to your makeup bag and snatched it, making your way over to a mirror not too far from where everyone else was. you zipped the bag open, hastily moving your makeup around before grabbing your powder and your brush. looking in the mirror, you opened the container before pausing with a slightly ajar mouth.

your makeup wasn’t creased.

you shook your head softly, cursing under your breath, as you gripped the brush tightly, your knuckles turning white.

“-and for our final chorus of the day; we’re going to have jack merridew and his choir sing; Hail Redeemer Kind Divine.”

your heart skipped a beat, snapping the container shut before dropping them back into the bag and running away from the mirror, you sucked in a breath as you watched merridew lead the choral onto the risers.

thankfully, he was busy giving a speech about the piece and what it meant to him, so you quickly ran over to the alto section just before they walked out from behind the curtains.

merridew turned and faced the risers once he was finished with his speech and applause echoed through the chapel. his brows knitted together when he locked eyes with you, the two of you holding eye contact while he walked to his spot on the fourth row. he only broke contact when the clinician coughed, gaining everyone’s attention as the hall fell silent.

the clinician turned to the pianists, waving her hands around before the piano started to play. the clinician; sister jane, turned back to the choir, muttering ‘one, two, three and-‘ before waving her hands around wildly with a loud inhale which made you all gasp before a beautiful harmony of voices boomed through the church hall.

“Hail, Redeemer King Divine!

Priest and Lamb, the throne is thine,

King whose reign shall never cease,

Prince of everlasting peace.”

you slowly glanced around your section as you all sung, smiling softly as you made eye contact with the other altos before turning back to sister jane as she continued to conduct.

“Angels, Saints and nations sing

'Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

you glanced over to the right to look at the guys who were in the middle, your face flushed from any color as you locked eyes with those piercing blue eyes again. you didn’t know what do you in that moment, all you could do was keep singing and deal with it after the song.

“King whose name creation thrills,

Rule our minds, our hearts, our wills, Till in peace each nation rings

With thy praises, King of Kings.”

you swallowed thickly, a small pause in the piece which allowed you to turn away from merridew’s harsh gaze before everyone started to sing again.

“Angles, Saints and nations sing

'Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

you crackled your knuckles from under your robe, fiddling with your thumbs as the song continued on.

“King most holy, King of truth,

Guide the lowly, guide the youth;

Christ thou King of glory bright,

Be to us eternal light.”

sister jane smiled as she conducted, leading the huge group of children and teens through the chorus once again.

“Angles, Saints and nations sing

���Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

you weren’t going to lie if you found the song kind of annoying. to be true, everyone in your choir-besides merridew-found all the songs your group sang were annoying. even some of the other kids from advanced groups thought some of the songs you all sang were annoying, but no one would say that to the directors.

“Shepherd-King. o’er mountains steep,

Homeward bring the wondering sheep;

Shelter in one royal fold

States and kingdoms, new and old.”

but today.

today was the day for 6 lucky people in every choir to move up to a higher level. obviously, everyone wanted to move up, but you had to put the work and effort into your piece in oder to move up.

“Angles, Saints and nations sing

‘Praised be Jesus Christ our King;

and of course, this only happens once a year.

Lord of life, earth, sky and sea,

King of love on Calvary.”

sister jane brought her hands closer together to create a decrescendo from everyone, signaling a cutoff when she seemed satisfied with the volume control. she smiled brightly over at everyone, dropping her hands at her side.

everyone in the crowd cheered and clapped, some of the older chorus members whistling loudly.

sister jane turned towards the crowd, bowing and extending an arm back towards you guys as you all bowed slightly.

the head priest made his way over towards the front of the stage, white slip of paper in hand as he tapped the mic, chuckling awkwardly as he cleared his throat, opening the paper as his eyes flickered from the 6 names listed down at the huge crowd in front of him. “let’s make this quick, shall we?” he joked, a few of the nuns chuckling.

you bit your lip, holding back a holler as your eyes scanned the room, locking back with jacks piercing eyes.

a faint smile was on his lips, also biting back a laugh at the failed attempt of a joke.

one of jacks friends; simon, stood behind him, his hands placed atop of the ginger’s shoulders. simon slightly leaned forward and smiled brightly at you, waving a finger in your direction which you returned with a closed eyed smile.

“okay.” the priest sighed, adjusting his attire before speaking again. “our six chorus singers who are moving up are…roger crawford, david shore, jackson hill, linsey shore, y/n l/n, and millie harrington.”

claps erupted through the hall again, the choir leaving the stage and soon everyone was out of the chapel and chatting out in the hallway, waiting for rides or wondering off.

you stood by the tall doors, waiting for your parents to arrive to pick you up. you gasped with a stumble, catching yourself with the door as you looked towards the culprit who punched you in the arm.

“congrats on the move up, y/n.” roger beamed slightly, rocking on his heels as he offered his right hand towards you.

you stared at him for a moment, snapping out of it before shaking his hand, faintly smiling. “oh! thanks, you too.”

he smiled, letting go of your hand. “we should probably get acquainted with one another; that way we’re not alone when we get into the new choir.” he suggested, tilting his head side to side.

you nodded, rubbing your neck. “yeah, that’ll be a good idea.”

roger smiled, turning to his left when he spotted auburn curls in the crowd heading over to the two of you.

jack made his way over to both of you, patting roger on the shoulder. “congrats, roger.” he smiled, slowly glancing over towards you. “and…congrats to you too, y/n.”

your eyes fluttered wide, your cheeks flushed a soft pink. you nodded, stuttering faintly. “t-thank you, merridew.”

simon appeared out of no where, throwing his arms around jack’s shoulders. “please! call him jack.” he reassured, smiling warmly towards you. “after all, we’re going to be friends, yeah?”

you nodded. “yeah, yeah we are.” you muttered.

simon beamed before waving his hands around as if to brush that conversation away. “anyways, jack, roger, maurice, and i are gonna hang out to-“ he pinched his pointer and thumb together, bringing them up to his lips whilst clicking his tongue. he quickly dropped his hand and went quite when one of the nuns walked past. once she was out of sight, he turned back to you with a smile. “you wanna tag along?”

your eyes sparkled, surprised that the top four boys in your choir were this rebellious. you expected the four of them to eat dessert before dinner or to skip brushing their teeth in the mornings before heading to school, but this was something completely different and you were all for it.

“of course.”

i hope you guys enjoy!:3 maybe i’ll do a part 2 of them all hanging out if you guys are interested???

[anika-ann]

Hello bestie! 🩵

For the Dirty A-Z headcanon game:

K - Kissing

O - Outdoor sex

W - Water

With any couple of your choice, you know I love them all. 😘

My GOD, the things this ask did to me 😭 Hello, indeed 💕 and thank you for participating in this ask game!

So, since you let me choose, I wanted to give y'all a peek at how Spectre and Steve's relationship will develop, but then I thought of the other pairing I love indeed and I-

Bosorka and rytier; Knight Steve and his witch!reader 😭 from the story Pomiluj me... I felt inspired✨

So. Three parts to this answer:

A playlist at the end of this ask

Lengthy answer below

AND a 2k drabble posted 🤭✨

See what you did, miss, ma'am!

Since some parts are obviously lemony (18+), I shall put it under cut)

Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

What I feel needs to be said is that any our Knight Steve loves kissing🥺😏 He loves having his mouth on his witchy lover. He kisses soft and light a lot too, but he loves to devour, getting lost in her taste and the scent of her skin, and especially likes to kiss her until he feels and tastes the change in the air, the way it grows heady and sweet, intoxicating – it’s enough to drive him insane with desire and he is all for it. He’s left marks before, but it was not intentional – when he realized, he was part startled and part so damn smug😏

He likes to feel her hands on him and when it comes to lips, it’s not much different, and lips on lips is enough to fall for her all over again. However, he especially enjoys her lips on his ear, when she whispers in old language, words he hasn’t learned yet but sound like the most gorgeous filth, loves to hear her breath hitch, voice crack when he hits just the spot; on his sternum, because that is just so sweet, you kiss him there when you lie together, a soft kiss right over his heart; on his back, between his shoulder blades, on days when she coaxes him to stay longer, not to guilt trip him (he guilts himself enough, thank you very much), but on days when she seems insatiable, lips trailing higher, to the side of his neck, hands wandering and he rarely ever says no to that (he still has duties he takes very seriously, even if it tears his heart apart and it quite literally hurts to get up an dress into pants); he loves the sight of you kissing down his treasure aril for sure; and lastly, you have a sweet habit of kissing his hands, a compliment to their softer side despite their strength💕🥺

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

Going to connect these two, because pool, bath and shower sex is not quite an option for this couple… a lake though, a slow river, well. Now we’re talking. That's what the drabble will be about 👀

Knight Steve would say most definitely no to outdoor-aka-water, because witch or not, she is still his lady, and it is enough that he’s loving her, as in is her lover, without properly wedding her, so anywhere where people could see his beautiful lady naked and--- no. However. When there’s no one in sight and the probability is insane ow they will appear… he is only human and she is. So. Damn. Beautiful. And the forest is so much of her home that it might as well be inside, yes?

I’m thinking that the first time it happened, rain caught them unexpectedly. Steve, the gentleman, the Knight he is, rushed to give her his cloak at least as she was left standing, genuinely shocked by the sudden downpour. But before he can reach her, she turns around and he sees her practically glow with awe and glee, chuckling and giggling in a way he had never seen before, smiling so wide, chest expanding with generous breaths and she tipped her head back, revelling in feeling of the rain on her skin, soaking her clothes and… Steve had never seen anything more enticing, anything so gorgeously alive. So he approached her, cloak still in hands, now soaked too the bone too, water dripping down his beard and longer hair and they looked at each other for a few beats, before he dropped the cloak and cradled her face and kiss her; had had planned a light kiss, a wordless you’re beautiful, but the moment their lips met, they started devouring, hands grasping, grabbing, shedding the completely unnecessary and completely useless heavy clothes (even if they cling to her breasts so nicely, accentuating the stiffened peaks he ran his fingers over and over before stripping you) and… well.

I'm 🫠🫠🥺 ANYWAY. EHM. Spotify link and list of youtube links for those without spotify below.

Thank you for asking, love 😭💕

Faun - Sonnereigen Faun - Gold and Seide Vesna - Pomiluj mě Ekaterina Shelehova - Savage Daughter Eivør - Trøllabundin John Lunn, Eivør, Danny Saul - Blood Will Prevail Faun - Aufbrunch Faun - Walpurgisnacht Čechomor - Zlocin (Crime) (can't find my fav version that's on spotify) Vesna - Běžela jsem lesem Vesna - Bílá laň (that version but with THIS gorgeous visual 😭) Vesna - Voda

[bloop-im-a-frog-now]

If The Gods Were Kind — cave pt.2

Hullo!!! Welcome to part 2 of the world-building part. We now get to meet Cleo, Bdubs and Impulse! Ain’t that fun? I love writing dialog, usually, but most of the dialog here comes from the CCs videos (god forbid we have all three hours of the session and so I have to look for scraps in other POVs). Anyway, enjoy!

Master Post 

— —

Content warnings: Internalized ableism

After stabilizing himself, he dug a sort of staircase, mining every coal and iron he found on his way. It was difficult mining, it took a lot of energy out of his arms, and had to roll his shoulders and take breaks before continuing. It was even harder going up and down, he had to use everything to help him get up and to get down as gently as he could.

Eventually, he took a look at his communicator, trying to see if it could help him with navigation. On the top right-hand corner, there were coordinates he didn’t see the first time he opened it. He was close to Y 8. Maybe he should go higher, closer to the surface. 

While digging up, he almost jumped into lava, and tried to understand what redstone would do. He smelt his iron and managed to craft some shoes and leggings. He came across some gold and wondered what other gemstones were hidden in these caves. As he mined more coal and different types of rocks, he heard faint voices. He looked around him, but saw no one. Maybe they were trapped in the stone. 

“Hello?” he called. 

The voices yelled, of joy or surprise, he wasn’t sure. Scar walked back and saw a name tag deep in the stone. “ZombieCleo” one read, but he could hear another voice. 

“Hellooo?” he called again.

“Hey! Where are you?” a more accented feminine voice asked. 

“Um, not sure,” he looked around.

“Here, wait, let me mine to you.”

“Cleo! What if they wanna kill us?” another voice said, displeased and with a much more different accent.

“I’m not gonna kill you,” Scar tried to reassure, “I’m actually very lost.”

He mined where he could hear the voices clearly. The closer he got, the more prominent were the name tags. One was “BdoubleO100”, going back and forth to ZombieCleo and hiding out of his view. Finally, a path cleared, and his eyes landed on a zombie with fiery orange hair. 

“Well, hello there,” Scar greeted. He hoped this zombie wouldn’t bite him. He could still feel a gnawing sensation on his shoulder. He ate a pork chop.

“Hi,” she said, hesitantly. 

They had a flower crown around her head, red flowers, blue flowers, purple flowers. It was mostly keeping their long curly hair out of her face, or Scar figured that was its purpose. She was wearing a deep blue crop top, which complimented their blueish skin and fitted her plump and compact figure. Their shorts were ripped at the seams and had thigh-high striped socks with walking boots. 

“It’s nice to see a face around here,” Scar said conversationally. “Very easy to get lonely.”

She hummed. “Good thing I found Bdubs early on.”

He blinked, not quite sure if he understood what they said (it was hard to understand her with their accent, but he’d manage), and raised an eyebrow. “Deebubs?”

“Bee-dubz,” she articulated and pointed at the BdoubleO100 name tag, still hidden from his view. He tested the name, whispering it and trying to match Cleo’s pronunciation. “That guy over there.”

“Cleo! You can still hide!” someone said in a harsh whisper. She rolled their eyes.

“If he wanted to kill me, he would’ve done so by now.” Cleo crossed their arms, giving a death glare to Bdubs’ hiding spot.

Scar raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not here to kill anyone.”

She hummed, giving him an unimpressed look. “Good.” She glanced behind her. “Bdubs, come out of hiding, no need to be so paranoid.”

Bdubs shuffled out of his hiding spot. He had cream buzz cut hair, contrasting his darker brownish skin tone, though Scar saw the beginning of dark roots at his scalp. The iron chest plate didn’t cover the long blue sleeves, the same light blue as Cleo’s skin, but framed his barrel-chested and solid body. He had wide eyes and only seemed to be an inch taller than his companion beside him, and Scar was pretty certain he had a good head over Cleo. 

“I have my reasons!” he proclaimed. 

Cleo rolled their eyes and scoffed. Scar couldn’t hold in his nervous laughter and smiled at the interaction. 

“You wanna join us?” Cleo asked him, jerking her head to their partner. Bdubs made a protest noise and Scar hummed, intrigued.

“Sure. What’re you guys doing, exactly?”

“Just mining. Trying to find diamonds and survive the night.”

He gave them a skeptical look, eyebrow raised. “Mining to survive the night? Wouldn’t it be better to find a shelter and sleep?”

“That’s what I said!” protested Bdubs. Cleo scoffed once again. 

“We wouldn’t have survived, and I would rather sleep in a bed, thank you very much. A woman deserves comfort.”

Scar couldn’t help but agree. How he would love to lay his back on a soft and comfortable bed, ignoring the ache in his hips and calves. At least, he hoped it would dim the ache. He switched his walking stick sides, shifting his weight, gripping the handle tightly when he felt it wobble.

Bdubs squinted his eyes at Scar’s movements, but didn’t say anything. Or was he looking at Scar’s messy bandage on his shoulder, if he could even call it that? Or even the scars scattered around his body? Bdubs instead came closer to Cleo’s side.

“We should bring you to our main mining spot!” he suggested. Cleo glanced at him and a small smirk formed on their lips.

“Yeah, that way, you’ll meet Impulse too.”

Scar gave them both a bewildered look. “There’s more people?”

“Well, it would be stupid to think we’re the only ones here, in this big world.”

Scar didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t go further into the clearing because of the blue transparent wall blocking the way. But he felt it was important information. 

“I-I mean, where I was, there was just a barrier, and I was in a sorta valley. Pretty closed off from everyone,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

Cleo shrugged. “Fair assumption, then.”

“Hey, we should add you to our contact list!” Scar perked up at that, remembering the second message on his communicator.

Cleo nodded. “Yeah, actually, that’s a great idea. This mine can be quite big, we don’t know when someone will get lost.”

Scar grinned, taking his communicator out of his pocket. “Alright, but how exactly do I add you guys to my contact list?”

“Oh wait, here, lemme—” Bdubs snatched Scar’s communicator, tongue poking out, “—aaaand here we go! Now you have me and Cleo as contacts.”

“Awesome,” Scar said in amazement, looking at his communicator. The contact list and messages were pulled up in a different window. He could still see “Taking Inventory: Achieved”, but instead of indicating he had no contacts, it showed both Cleo’s and Bdubs’ names. He tried to see what other achievements he accomplished, using the arrow to scroll down the list. He had at least ten achievements and felt pride blooming in his chest, ignoring the ache that spread from his eyes to his temples.

Cleo and Bdubs guided him to their main mining spot. His two new companions whispered to each other. Scar could still hear what they were saying, but didn’t bother listening. After all, it was rude listening in on a conversation that didn’t include you. The tunnels twisted and turned, and he could feel his legs almost giving out on him, trembling and incapable of supporting his body weight. He had to continue. 

He ate a pork chop, hoping it would give him more energy to soldier on, and leaned more on his barely-holding-it-together stick. Maybe he should have more than a walking stick. But wouldn’t that be more inconvenient? The handle almost fell off, but Scar gripped it tight to keep it in place. Cleo and Bdubs stopped in their tracks. He blinked at them and realized he was quite far from them. 

“Are you okay?” Bdubs asked. Scar knew the man was concerned about him. Scar sensed that Bdubs suspected something was up. Whether it was his shoulder or the falling apart walking stick, he wasn’t sure. He smiled widely and stood taller.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

Cleo looked skeptical. “What happened?”

He wasn’t sure if she was talking about the wounds, his mysterious scars, or him clutching his stick like his life depended on it. Which it did, he didn’t know how he would’ve been able to stand up without something supporting him. Strangely enough, the wounds on his shoulder didn’t sting him like they did when he mined.

“I ran into some monsters and couldn’t defend myself properly.”

Cleo squinted their eyes. That wasn’t what they meant, he realized. 

“Oh gosh, quick, c’mere.”

Bdubs waved at him to come closer. He tried his best, somewhat still clumsy with his walking stick, even after all that mining. Maybe it was the way his legs were trembling underneath him, or how the ache between his hips and calves got stronger. 

When he was close to a chest, a crafting table and a furnace, he saw someone else in the corner of his eye. Bdubs forced him to sit on the ground, a cleaned cloth and water in his hands. Scar let out an “oof” when his butt hit the ground, quite harshly.

“There was someone else down there,” Scar pointed out, squirming to find a comfortable position to sit as Bdubs rummaged in the chest.

Cleo looked down at the hole. “Yeah, that’s Impulse, still trying to find diamonds. Doubt we’re gonna find any here, though.”

He hummed. So this was Impulse. Diamonds might be more important than he first thought, if everyone around him was trying to find them. Cleo began mining close to them. He wanted to ask them if she was also mining for diamonds until Bdubs put the wet cloth on his bite wound. He winced and held in his scream, inhaling sharply instead. 

“Sorry, this’ll sting for a while.” Scar let out a breathy laugh, a sarcastic reply sitting on his tongue, but kept the words in. He shifted against the side of the tunnel, trying to sit in a position that wouldn’t remind him of the soreness in his calves and hips. He kept shifting when Bdubs looked up and then looked at his shoulder. “That’s some serious damage you got there—Scar, was it?”

He blinked. Why did Bdubs look up? Did he have a name tag on top of his head? He nodded. 

“Did you also get shot?” Bdubs clicked his tongue, as if disappointed in him. 

“The skeleton caught me by surprise!” Scar protested. 

“You’re lucky this didn’t get infected,” his new medic said instead. 

He sighed. He was glad he wasn’t the only person in this world, glad there were people he could rely on. 

Someone came closer to them, and his appearance became clearer the more he approached the minimal light torches could provide. His black shirt drooped nicely over his ample and burly body, the lowercase “i” framing his stomach. The brown leggings seemed to be the only sort of armor on his person, sneakers in his feet. 

Scar wondered if the leggings were made out of leather, at least they were matching the man’s short hair color. He was around the same height as Scar, maybe even broader than him, which made him think if they were in a fist fight, the man would more likely win. His face supported a five o’clock shadow, masking his pale rosy skin, and a disappointed look. The name tag “impulseSV” hovered over his head.

Bdubs finished patching him up, and Scar stayed seated, knowing it would take him a while to get up, and he really didn’t want to deal with that.

“Did you find any?” Bdubs asked.

Impulse shook his head. He went to Cleo’s tunnel.

“Any luck?” he called.

“Nope!” was the reply. 

Scar leaned his head back against the rocks, eyeing them curiously. “What’s so special about diamonds, anyway?”

Impulse turned to him with an offended gasp. Scar gulped. If this was the reaction he was gonna get, he wouldn’t have asked in the first place. 

“Diamonds are the strongest material in this world. You can make a diamond sword, diamond armor—”

“A jukebox,” Bdubs interrupted enthusiastically. 

Impulse gaped at him and let out a chuckle. “Yes, a jukebox.”

“That’s why we want to find some diamonds,” Bdubs winked at Scar. Scar tilted his head, a bit confused. “We found this record.”

Bdubs took out a disc. It had a green circle in the center, and looked used, as if someone kept using it constantly and threw it away mindlessly. He reached for the disc, which Bdubs gladly gave to him, and touched the rough and bumpy surface. He gave it back to the blond man.

“We really need to find those diamonds.”

Bdubs smirked. “That’s the spirit! You can come help me if you want.”

Scar shrugged. “Sure.”

Scar used the rocks that stood out and the stick to stand up, his body protesting from the awakened slumber. He almost fell because the instant he placed more of his weight on the stick, the handle slipped. Impulse reached out to help him, Bdubs sent him a concerned look, but Scar waved them off, gripping the handle around the stick tighter—it was killing his back but he didn’t have any option. He could take care of himself. 

“Dude, your cane is falling apart,” Impulse said, pointing at his stick.

Scar looked at it, and grimaced. He sent them a nervous smile.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any wool or something similar, now, would you?”

Bdubs scratched his chin in deep thought, and searched in the chest. He sighed, dejectedly.

“No, sorry.” He looked at Impulse, who was searching in his inventory. 

“I have one big chunk of wool,” he said slowly, “but, I also have leather and some longer sticks.”

Scar beamed at them. “D’you think you can do something with that?”

Impulse chuckled lightly. “I can try, just gimme a sec.”

Impulse took out the materials from his inventory and started tinkering. Scar and Bdubs watched him closely as he took the long stick, placed it beside Scar to measure its height (Scar was holding on to the side of the mine and Bdubs’ bicep), and assembled the materials together. He separated the wool into long strings, and wrapped a small stick in leather, putting some fluffy wool in it. Scar got lost in the intricate movements, squinting to follow them and understand them, only to ultimately be confused. 

Impulse inspected the newly made walking stick and gave it to Scar with a smile.

“There ya go, buddy, a sturdy cane just for you.”

Scar gasped in amazement, admiring the cane (it seemed Impulse knew more about it than him), the handle covered in leather that was soft to the touch and didn’t threaten to fall off. 

“Thank you so much,” Scar choked. 

Impulse patted him behind the back. “Anytime.”

Scar tested the sturdiness of the cane, and once he was satisfied, he took a deep breath and gave Bdubs a wide smile.

“Well, Bdubs,” he extended his hand, letting Bdubs walk in front of him, “lead the way, my friend.”

“I’ll join Cleo,” Impulse called out as the other two went further in the cave.

A long time passed as they kept mining, further away from the main spot. Scar had to take many breaks, even if his cane was better than his last one, it was quite the feat to constantly mine. Bdubs reassured him he wasn’t a burden and continued the search without him from time to time, always coming back with some goodies and wild stories. 

Eventually, Scar got a full set of iron armor and even made a clock. He didn’t know you could make a clock with gold and redstone, but it was very impressive to see how accurate it was. It was quite bland, very few details and mostly gold. In the half-circle, the sun and moon were in sync with the actual sky outside. The sun rose in the corner of the hollow half-circle. Bdubs asked for the clock many times, and eventually, Scar gave in and said that Bdubs was the timekeeper. The short man grinned, pleased with his new role. 

“This mine is a bust,” Scar complained after they searched for more diamonds. 

“This mine is a bust. Cleo was right, we’ll never find diamonds here. Let’s regroup.”

As they reached the meeting spot, Cleo was tapping their foot impatiently and Impulse was mining up in the ceiling. Scar had a gut feeling it wasn’t a good idea to do that, and conveyed the thought. Impulse stopped promptly, and Bdubs started to complain loudly to them, stomping around and checking the clock every so often. 

Scar decided to leave them be for a while and explored the cave a bit deeper. With his stone pickaxe almost ruined and his shoulders aching from the mining trip he did with Bdubs, he mined a random spot, mostly to stimulate his tired mind and to have something to do with his hands. 

That was until he saw sky blue gemstones in a stone. Diamond ore. He gasped and tried letting the others know of his discovery, changing his stone pickaxe to his iron one. He mostly sounded like he was getting attacked, alarming the rest rather than joining him out of joy.

“What’s wrong, Scar?” Cleo asked, the first who arrived. She gasped as he mined the last diamond ore, grimacing through the soreness of his shoulders and forcing them to move above his head, cane placed on the side. 

“What, what is it?!” Bdubs demanded. Scar gave them a diamond each, and grabbed his cane, a big grin on his face. 

Impulse gasped. “You found diamonds?!”

“I found diamonds!”

His communicator buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at it. Beside Cleo’s and Bdubs’ name was green text. He showed it to the others, too tired to comprehend the letters on the screen.

“What does that mean?”

Cleo went closer to the screen while Bdubs squinted at it. Cleo snapped their fingers.

“Right, you didn’t know that. Once you gain contacts, you can see their achievements. I’m so used to feel mine buzzing that I’ve sorta ignored it.”

Bdubs nodded intensively and shifted his eyes at each one of them. “Anyone wants to sacrifice their diamond for the jukebox?”

There was a deep silence, and Impulse laughed. “Nobody wants to sacrifice their first diamond.”

“I’ll do it,” Cleo and Scar offered. 

“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll sacrifice mine,” Bdubs waved them off, walking to the crafting table with a skip in his steps.

As they got out of the hole Scar dug (Cleo and Impulse had to help him get out), Impulse nudged Scar’s shoulder.

“Hey, pretty sure I don’t have your contact.”

“Oh right, here,” Scar handed his communicator to Impulse and he put his name on Scar’s communicator and Scar’s name on his. 

“We should listen to the disc on the surface,” Cleo suggested.

“Oh, what a great idea!” Bdubs exclaimed. “We can then vibe to it!”

Scar wondered if “vibe” was a word Bdubs invented.

“What does ‘vibe’ mean, exactly?”

Bdubs grinned and cleared his throat. “Well, you see,” Bdubs gloated, “‘vibe’ is what younglings use for, um.” Bdubs frowned, pausing. “I think it means sharing the same mood, but I’m not even sure where it came from.” 

Cleo patted his back solemnly, and Impulse shook his head. Scar quirked an eyebrow. 

“You also don’t remember anything?”

They all shook their heads. “We’re not really sure why,” Impulse hesitated, looking at the side.

“We’ve just kinda accepted it,” Cleo shrugged.

A long silence fell upon them. Bdubs clasped his hands together, shaking everyone out of the silence.

“Let’s not dwell on this for long, hm?” Bdubs gave them each a stern look. “Let’s focus on going to the surface.”

“Is there a way out?” Scar asked, looking around, leaning more on his cane, so glad to feel steady and the smooth leather on his palm and for the awkward silence to dissipate.

Impulse patted his shoulder, almost making him trip on his tired feet. “Don’t worry, I have a great sense of navigation.”

Scar chuckled nervously and followed them to the surface.

<- Prev _ Master Post _ Next ->

[strawbattyshortcake]

Shakes in the Night

Read on AO3 Can't Help Where I Come From (1/2) Words: 2,923 Summary: Try as he might, Astarion just can't get away from his family. Triel'dra does what she can to help. A restless night at the Last Light Inn, an unwelcome reunion at the Elfsong Tavern (Astarion x Tav, Acts 2 & 3) Chapter 2: Corpses on Ice ->

No, no not again. 

Astarion grits his teeth against the pain, somehow just as real as the night it had happened. 

He knows, beneath the memory playing out behind his eyelids, that this is not real. He is in a bed at the Last Light Inn, his travelling companions around him for one last night in relative comfort before setting out on the road for Baldur’s Gate. 

They killed a demigod today, he’d say they deserve it. 

But no, he can never rest, can he? The shadows are always calling, Cazador always waiting in the recesses of his mind, needle in hand. He feels each cut,  can hear the condescending tuts whenever a spasm of pain overcame him, and Cazador had to begin an alleged stanza anew. 

He knows better now, knows what it is. The infernal runes fill him with a sense of revulsion and hope all at once.  It’s valuable, something Cazador needs, and that’s leverage— but he remembers what the devil had said about hope, and that his master’s claim on him goes as deep as his soul makes his skin crawl. 

A groan slips free as the echo of Cazador’s knife carves another shape he was never going to be able to read into his shoulder. 

A sound catches him, something real, and drags him from his poisoned reverie. He can feel it waiting for him, as it always does. The moment he lets himself drift, Cazador will pick up where he left off, ready with more patronising chastisements for failing to keep still. 

There it is again. A floorboard creaks, once, then again. Someone trying not to sneak up on him, and he knows even before he hears her voice that it’s Triel’dra. 

“Astarion?” she creeps up carefully, mindful of stabbing distance lest she startle him. 

He mumbles something to acknowledge her. 

“You were… thrashing, again.” 

He rolls over and is greeted by her mismatched eyes, the one she was born with gleaming in the dark, bright as a cat’s. 

“It was…?” She cocks her head, gestures over her shoulder. 

He mumbles an assenting sound. “No helping it, I’m afraid. I could get up, read, sew, doesn’t matter. As soon as I go back to my trance, it will continue. Best to just let it play out and be done with it.” 

The bright-eyed shadow sways, almost playfully. “Are you hungry?”

Astarion raises an eyebrow. “A pity feeding? Really?”

There’s a breathy sound as she laughs, and sits down where he shifts to make room for her. “Kethric’s revenants were inedible. You must be starving.” 

“We’re going to be on the road all day tomorrow.” 

“Exactly. I am very good at travelling long distances. You have been very vocal about your opinions on walking.” 

“Cheeky little—”  Astarion can’t keep the grin from his face as he pounces. It’s a well practised movement that sweeps her into bed, pinned beneath him, but it feels different. 

She’s beautiful in the darkness, this being of shadow and moonlight smiling up at him in a way he still can’t believe is real. 

He kisses her. 

Triel’dra’s arms drape over his shoulders as she returns the kiss. She enjoys this, and it’s… sweet. Gentle and unhurried and never more than what it is, never leading anywhere. Never a prelude to more. 

She kisses him on the cheek almost absently as they sit together, pulls him aside to drink the blood splattered across her face after a battle. Frantic, desperate kisses as she heals him when he’s downed. She always pauses a moment— a question, a chance to refuse. 

He’s still waiting for her to come to her senses. 

She offers him her throat, instead. 

This is its own kind of seduction, he supposes, but it never stirs up those same feelings, the revulsion and shame, losing himself as he slips into habit. He doesn’t have a script for this, never did this with any of his victims. 

This is new; this is theirs.  

Astarion kisses his way down her jaw, along her neck as she lays her head back to offer it to him, sighing, breath hitching at his attention. He has this down to an art: where to bite and as gently as possible, how much he can take, when to stop so the wound will close well. They have to be quiet not to wake the others, so she swallows a gasp as he breaks the skin, her fingers through his hair. 

It truly is a gift. Something she gives freely, because she cares for him, impossible as it seems. She shares her strength, her warmth, her life, and he endeavours to make it as sweet as he can, in return. Something intimate they share, not just to spite the phantom Cazador that lives inside him, to prove that he can.  

Astarion breaks away, careful of the wounds on her neck, careful to let them stabilise before he laps up the drops left behind. “My sweet, sweet little love,” he whispers, breathless, feeling practically alive, pulling back to look at her, to stroke her silver hair. She looks up at him fondly, heavy eyelids fluttering. He takes just enough to sate himself,  but that’s still enough to exhaust her. “Thank you.” 

Triel rolls over to make room for him beside her, and curled up on his chest they just fit together in the single bed. That’s the other way feeding is like sex: she likes to be held afterwards, clinging like a little bat, and he’s happy enough to let her. It’s the least he can do. 

She’ll go back to her own bed, soon enough, before the others wake. But for now, Triel’dra’s head rests where his still heart must be, the slow rise and fall of her chest lulling him back to his reverie. 

Where Cazador and his needle are waiting. 

He wants to scream. Wants to scream, and gnash his teeth, and spit curses, but he can’t because he didn’t. He trembled, and sobbed and whimpered, and he’d be lying if he said it was just the memory of the fear he’s feeling. It’s still there, same as it ever was. 

“Asta!”

Triel’dra is calling him, her voice hushed but urgent. He’s aware of her in his reverie, of both the past and the present, of Cazador’s disdain in one ear and Triel’s concern in the other. She’s shaking him, gently. 

Loathed as he is, he focuses on Cazador, fights to grit his teeth and get the ordeal over with. He’s congratulating himself on his prose now, the lying bastard. 

“Astarion, wake up!” 

There’s nothing else in the room, no rushed panic as people clamber for arms, no screaming. He thinks he can dimly hear Karlach snoring in the distance; nothing is amiss.  Still, Triel’dra is so persistent, he opens his eyes. He groans, the phantom pain receding. “Hmm. Yes, darling?” 

“It just keeps going?” She hovers above him, propped on her elbow, precariously close to the edge of the bed. “I have had an idea. May I see your back?”

“No!” He startles himself with that. It comes out reflexively, before thought, and something within him recoils, centuries of hardwon lessons telling him: yes, always yes. 

But Triel’dra’s expression doesn’t change, save perhaps an apologetic dip of her eyebrows. “Of course,” she whispers, no less warmth in her voice than before.  “I am sorry to have woken you.” And with that, she carefully shimmies back down into the sheets, adjusts herself to snuggle back around him. 

That instinctual knot in his chest loosens. Of course, he knows Triel’dra would never force him to do anything. But knowing and believing are different, and it’s only after realising he truly can say no that he begins to contemplate a maybe. 

“Why?”

“The marks on your back. They are essentially a wheel and spoke pattern. I think, perhaps… Could I show you? May I touch?”

Hesitantly, Astarion shifts aside, turns over so his scars are towards her. He trusts her, but he’s taught as a bowstring, the word stop ready on his lips. 

Warm hands rutch his shirt up towards his shoulders, and ever so gently, she traces a line, feather light, across a long line from one side of the pattern to the other. 

“She lays a bridge thread, first…” Triel’dra’s voice is soft and melodic. “Then she puts down anchor lines…” Triel traces what must be long lines of scar tissue, he remembers three that stretch towards the small of his back. Astarion shivers, and she pauses. 

“Go on.” He says. He’s reminding himself to breathe, something fearful flutters in his ribcage, but he doesn’t want her to stop. 

It’s when she begins to spiral between the spokes, laying traces of her fingers over the runes, that he realises what she’s drawing. 

“What is it with you and spiders?” He manages a weak laugh, hoping it hides the tremor. 

“The Spider Queen,” Triel begins, and he can just imagine the look of distaste she makes. “Is a tyrant who demands cruelty and betrayal of her followers and the antithesis of all that is good and holy. Spiders are fascinating creatures. Actual spiders, mind you, not Lolth’s monstrosities.” 

She’s mentioned the distinction before. Astarion isn’t sure where that line is, only that she has strong feelings about it and he isn’t going to argue with a drow about Spiders. 

She begins to trace the same pattern, back again the way she came. It tickles, gently, and as she goes his breath comes easier beneath her hands, though he’s trying to ignore the hot sensation prickingling at the corners of his eyes. 

He’s intimately familiar with pain and humiliation. Tenderness is still overwhelming. 

“This is what I imagine when I trance,” she continues, dreamily, lulling herself along with him. “A spider building her web, strand by strand. And then she eats it and starts again. Over, and over… Dextrous and beautiful and clever, with their thread,” she trails off almost shyly, and then, so softly he nearly misses it, she says, “like you.”  

Astarion’s heart is purely ornamental, but something in his chest swells and catches in his throat and it shows in his voice. “Why are you doing this?” 

“I thought it might help? To have something tangible to focus on.” 

That’s not what he was asking. 

What are you getting from this? 

“It does,” he says instead, and pleased, she continues, encouraging him back into his reverie. 

Fear and helplessness still turn his stomach. It still burns as Cazador slices the shapes into his flesh, the panicked instinct is still there, to run, to get away, maddening as he’s held in place by terror and compulsion. But the pain is tempered. Beneath it, alongside the agony, he feels Triel’s fingertips, warm and gentle, and realer than the knife. As his master hacks ugly deals with the hells into his skin, he imagines instead the delicate orbweaver lace. 

Along with the horror there’s another feeling that’s hard to name. 

Cazador’s pretentious diatribe continues, but Astarion isn’t listening. Triel is humming under her breath, that same hymn she likes, the one to her drow goddess of freedom, and moonlight, and love. 

There’s a lump in his throat and tears on his cheeks, but he’s not sure if it’s in spite of her help or because of it, not sure which is harder to endure. Suffering is at least familiar. Either way, it’s… it’s different. Evidence that things can be changed, that the lurking ghost of Cazador in his mind is not all-powerful. 

Astarion isn’t sure how long it goes on, how long she sits with him, but at some point, the memory must fade or conclude because there is, at last, sweet restful nothing.  ***

Something is wrong. 

Astarion rolls over, reaching for where Triel should be, curled beside him in the nest of blankets and pillows they’ve made on the tent floor. She sleeps more soundly than he trances; it’s near-impossible for her to leave without him knowing. 

The camp is quiet, the tent dark, the rush of the Chionthar soft in the distance. 

The vampire furrows his brow, rubs at his eyes, and gets to his feet, pushing aside the flap of his tent to peer out into the campsite. 

Astarion freezes. Icy cold floods his veins as the warmth of Triel’s blood drains away, his stomach plummeting. 

Cazador Szarr stands between him and the dying campfire. Astarion doesn’t need to count to know that there are six pairs of red eyes gleaming in the darkness behind him. 

Triel’dra’s body hangs limply where Cazador clutches her neck, eyes dull, blood long since still where it’s poured from her open throat. 

The dagger she keeps under her pillow is stuck where it fell in the blood-soaked dirt. 

“There you are, my lost son.” He smiles in a way that promises retribution. “All is set right. The under-elf won’t keep you from your family any longer.” With that, he tosses Triel’dra’s lifeless form aside, easily as a child’s toy, and his siblings descend upon it like a pack of starving wolves. 

Astarion wants to scream, wants to run. Wants to lunge at Cazador or wrest what’s left of Triel from his siblings’ jaws, but he’s rooted to the spot, eyes wide, voice gone, even as Cazador strides closer. 

Revulsion fills him but he can’t flinch away as his master reaches forward to lay a claiming hand upon his cheek, to fist his hand in Astarion’s hair and drag his face up to look at him, red eyes sharp as his teeth and filled with indignant rage. “Come along, boy. Time to go home.” 

*** 

Astarion awakes with a jolt, eyes wide, sheets plastered to his cooling body with cold sweat when he moves. He reaches frantically to the other side of the bed, and feels his stomach turn when they find nothing but empty mattress beside him. 

Finally, panting for air he doesn’t need, he wakes fully, and takes in his surroundings. The Last Light Inn is still dark and quiet, moonlight pooled across the dingey floors where windows and holes in the ceiling let it through. 

The bed beside him is empty, but there’s a lump at his feet that stretches and pads towards him. Evidently, Triel had left her familiar on biscuit duty, because Erelae slinks over once he’s stopped flailing and climbs on to his lap to purr and knead at his stomach with her paws. 

Triel is safe. Triel must be safe, because if something had happened to her, the cat wouldn’t be here. Also, because of course she’s fine, it was a stupid dream. He’s not even supposed to have those. All of a sudden he sleeps, like a child who hasn’t learned how to quiet their mind yet. 

Too much time connected to non-elves, he concludes. Or to Triel’dra. That she does this to herself voluntarily on a nightly basis is insane, and her useless Lady of Dreams has never once made it worth her while. 

He slumps back into bed with an irritable sigh, trying to ignore the persistent little fey creature nuzzling at him and purring. He raises a hand, absently, and the cat rams her little head against it, demanding scratches. 

This is ridiculous. He just needs to go back to his reverie. Triel is fine. It was nothing but a figment of his imagination. The room is undisturbed, everyone still asleep. He doesn’t need to check on her. 

He doesn’t. 

Astarion gets up, which pushes the cat aside with an indignant chirp, and gets to his feet, Erelae silent behind him as he sneaks over to the other beds. 

He finds her safe and sound asleep in a puddle of moonlight, surprisingly on top of her bed rather than under it. It had taken them a long time to convince her that she would be more comfortable that way, even if it did leave her out in the open. Her breaths are deep and slow, on her side beneath her cloak and one of the inn’s threadbare sheets.

The hilt of a dagger is poking out between the mattress and headboard, where she could grab it in a flash if need be. 

He smiles, despite the residual adrenalin flooding his system, a potent mix of fondness and terror that he’s beginning to find familiar. He wants to reach out, like he needs to make sure she’s real, but doesn't want to wake her. 

Her familiar has no such compunctions and the silver tabby leaps onto the bed.

Triel’dra stared down an avatar of Death today without flinching. Now, she opens her arms just enough for the cat to wriggle into her embrace, mumbling contentedly in her sleep as she snuggles her purring familiar close. 

Gods, this is what it is to care for someone, isn’t it? This tender agony, this fear. 

Still he sees two things, at once, the real and the phantasmal. Triel’dra sleeping peacefully in a warm bed, Triel’dra’s blood pooled in the dirt at Cazador’s feet while he can do nothing but watch. 

As lovely as it was to pretend, the thing slashed into his skin is not a spider’s web. They are, as they always were, the jagged mess of infernal runes. A piece of a contract with an archfiend, eternal and binding. 

He is going to make Cazador regret giving him something so powerful, and assuming he’d be too meek, to stupid to use it. 

Astarion has the means now, and he will never be helpless again. 

[Next]

[dulcewrites]

You guys know how interested I am in fashion when it comes to my fics. I’ve done a couple of fashion post about myrah in fcc. But I’m also interested in the fashion transitions both Helaena and Alicent go through as they ease into their new roles as queen consort and queen mother respectively (in fcc).

As stated before, I see Myrah, once she married and officially a mainstay at court, ushering in the Burgundian type of clothing popular in the Vale. A style that was more than likely also worn a lot in KL when Aemma was around. Houppelandes, brocade fabric, elaborate sleeves, and fun headwear like: headbands, ribbon in the hair, barbettes, and different types of hennins. this is also coupled with the style she gets from the different cultures in her life (dornish, Myrish, summer islander). But I think the Vale style would be more of a hit amongst the stuffy court crowd

Now onto how this compares to Helaena and Alicent.

Alicent is dressed like this when we first see her post time jump. There is a slight change in her pre driftmark versus post driftmark fits. Pre - she plays a bit more with her sillouttes, specifically her necklines and sleeves. Post - we get high neck lines, more intricate details. She’s leaning into the established queen and pious figure look.

Imo Alicent not only adopted green as a sign of her loyalties to her home, but green specifically this deep emerald shade, is very mature. Alicent became queen at 15 (viserys and otto you’re going to hell), and becomes the green queen around 17/18. We see her trying to act more grown up bc of it. I think she never transitioned out of that feeling, even as an actual adult. She is a teenage essentially stuck in an adult woman’s body

In reponse to Alicent, ladies at court adopt this style. A more conservative, almost stiff look. Either opting for other mature colors (deep blues, browns, purples etc. lots jewel tones) and or just green as well.

As Alicent takes a more behind the scenes role and transitions into queen mother/grandmother, she changes silhouettes more and even *gasp* plays with prints. Still more rich colors. I think she would even go back to the fun sleeves and capes like before her more conservative looks. She feels less restrained to the color green or the tighter sillouettes bc the thing she feared so much (losing her children) is behind her.

There would be a shift in color palettes and styles as Helaena becomes the new hbic (affectionately). While Alicent wanted to lean into how she is feeling at the moment, creating an air of power/isolation or piety with her styling, I think Helaena would take a different approach.

Her transition into a fashion it girl is a bit more organic (???) than her mother’s. Simply because Helaena is more of a ‘oooh that’s pretty I’m just gonna wear it’ type of person while Alicent wanted to curate a certain image for herself, at least in the beginning for the both of them. Helaena is far more youthful and whimsical. She’s not afraid of showing a bit of skin, and enjoys unique patterns/prints

The top looks are more day to day, while the bottom when she really wants to show up and show out. Helaena by nature is not a flashy person so those moments are few and far between. I don’t mind the dresses she wears in the show, especially the blue coronation one. But something about the lack of visible waistlines reads as matronly to me sometimes. So, I see her trying out shorter bodices. For the most part, she keeps the pastel, and girly colors she likes.

I added the pic we got from on set for s2 bc I think it also works with what I mean about her looking more her age in dresses that arent just straight up and down. The more dimension the better. I don’t see fcc Helaena wearing darker colors like this often tho. Random tinhat but I think in s2 we are going to see Helaena adopt darker colors after ***. A bit contrast to the light ones we see her wearing most of the time.

Anyway, as usual, the court ladies follow suit. Older noble women would not opt for the lower cut dresses, but still follow the light colors and higher waist lines. Younger girls are living for this. As Helaena gets more comfortable, she understands the power in what she does. She gets championed as beloved for her gentle nature in the book. So, I like the idea of as she gets more politically minded she understands how the playfulness of her clothing lends itself to that, and she leans into it.

[4056-isa]

Exercise #1

Exercise #1

Isabela Torres (330449)

When I think of a special place for me is the garden of my house, specifically the part of the pergola, it has been my favorite part of my house since we moved there many years ago, it is a really big space where we have a grill, some sofas and a lot of plants, I imagine myself there at around five o’clock, the light at this time is really beautiful, because it’s still really sunny but the sun is starting to go down so I get to see the sun go down between buildings and the mountains, something I also like is that that space has changed shape and decoration a lot, at first we had a hammock and I would spend all my time on it, just chilling there while it started to get hotter as the sun started to hit.

when I think of my garden I don’t think I’m alone, I imagine myself with my mother and mu two dogs there, I think that’s also my mother’s favorite place on our house, because she spends even more time there than I do, and at the time we are there there’s no noice, just the birds chirping and not so often the sound of the city, some cars honking, some buses passing by, but mostly I imagine there is music there, either coming from my headphones or from my mom’s phone while she’s painting.

Some smells I can remember coming from the garden are either meat getting coked at the grill by my father, which always brings me back to when I was a kid, and I would help him with that and then we would go and sit at the table and share with my whole family. I also have the memory of one of my neighbors who would bake every day, not only my garden but my whole house would end up smelling like freshly baked bread.

I am a very physical person so I go around touching everything that crosses my path so this is the things I remember the most, we have  different walls which I don’t like because the rocky textures on them have actually ripped my skin so I don’t get near those walls, but I really like the texture of the rug we have there, it’s really soft and it’s really comfortable, that is until one of my dogs want to play, another texture I really like comes from the cushions we have on the sofa, they have a soft texture with some metal circles I don’t know why but I love the soft texture with the sudden feeling of something cold, besides they are very fluffy.

One thing I can say for sure is that this is the most comfortable place I have ever been, not only that but it also evokes a really nice feeling for me, because it remainds me of my childhood and for me honestly this is one good place where you can either have your friends, your family or you can be alone just enjoyng your day, one of my favorite memories I have there is when we were in the middle of the pandemic, where everyone was forced to stay inside I remember me, my two sisters and my mother all sitting outside all of us painting different things, enjoying eachothers company, eating snacks, drinking iced coffee made by me and watching a mexican soap opera, then we all went back to our normal lives and we haven’t done that in a while… It would be nice.

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

C B X R N

Headcanon Game - A to Z (NSFW)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

((Plug her up Aaron, you know you want to.

It's a thing, she's very willing and happy to keep what you've spilled in her inside. (If that's your thing.) For her it likely has more to do with being 'claimed'.

But, she has no aversion to being cummed ON rather than in. She's gonna chastise you if you get it on her glasses though.

It's not an obsession, she's not partial to any sort of play or the taste of cum. But she's not put off by it either. If you seem to be pleased when she swallows, she'll swallow. If you don't care, she'll just do whatever she feels like.))

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

((Her best qualities are her legs and possibly her eyes. Kira isn't particularly busty. (Average B cup) and she doesn't exactly pack a dump truck. Though her butt is a fairly nice feature as well. She's more graceful and slender, her legs are shapely and usually well shaved and smooth. And most outfits she wears outline this. You'll find her in alot of hosiery and shorts or skirts. Her eyes are also a strange color. Amber, almost golden. It's a very unique color and she gets compliments on them often. And Kira enjoys compliments, so they gotta be a favored feature.

On others? Toned backs and shoulders are a particular favorite. She prefers more broad men. Or dear god if you have defined forearms and roll up your sleeves casually? That's gooooood shit. Smiles are also nice, she will blush at sweet smiles directed at her.))

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

((Hmm, I don't have any pictures or reference art at the ready lol. But I can describe her enough for you.

From feet to waist, Kira has pretty normal feet. Size 8, calloused from walking so much in wasteland verses. But she keeps them clean and as moisturized as she can manage. Her toenails are painted different colors when she can find polish and thinner. Her legs are long and slender, pale from her lack of sun and pretty consistent in color. She has a light pink scar above her knee on her left leg from when she was shot once. Her legs widen into her hips and butt which aren't what one would call generous, but they are plump enough. Shapely and toned from all the running and squats she does, but nothing crazy.

Bush wise, she doesn't shave but trims so to speak. Usually with scissors and as close as she can manage to the skin without nicking. Her hair is thick enough on her head, shaving down there would only prove itchy and uncomfortably pokey when reaching stubble stage. Nor is she diligent enough to shave often enough to avoid the stubble stage. She's got better things to do! Her hair is reddish brown, somewhat coarse. Outer labia covers most inner parts. You have to spread her to find what you're looking for. Nothing beyond that is really all that unusual or extraordinary. She wouldn't really be able to describe it to you besides knowing that it's perfectly normal according to anatomy texts lol. Just a tiny bit higher, I'll include that she has a navel piercing. Was done in a fit of rebellion against her mother back in the day.))

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

((Oh sure, when with partners she trusts, Kira is game for most anything her partner wants to try or likes. (Besides the obvious 'gross stuff' that most people don't care for.) Experimenting can be fun, and you'd be surprised that there's more to Kira's interests than she lets on.

Risk taking? Yeah, she's up for risk. Publicity? She's into the idea of getting caught, and if you're confident enough, you can probably even convince her to be watched. Pregnancy? As we have somewhat discussed, if you push past Kira's fear of being a bad mother, you can fill her up as much as you like. Being bruised or cut? While Kira isn't fond of too much pain during sex, she can take more damage than a normal person before calling it quits. Though... she is INTO spanking and biting and clawing and such. Breath play? She's very into it. Being held down and used is a fantasy that she has that she's partially ashamed of. Doing it by the throat and giving her that high is a bonus to her. Etc etc.))

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

((Besides the obvious of v.ore, s.cat, water s.p.orts, bugs, etc etc? (Those are too extreme even for a people pleaser like her.)

Mmm, Kira is not comfortable with sharing partners. She's fairly monogamous. She's a little too self conscious and has too low of self esteem to be in open relationships. Kira is prone to jealousy. If you cheat on her, she is not above cruelty. She will hurt you in anyway she can if only to avoid her own feelings of devastation.))