#out of curiosity which design do you guys like best?

[nionom-art]

I decided to take a few more passes on my rainbow high doll’s design. The first image shows my two favorite designs from the second image (but cleaned up a bit- I adjusted the colors so that they would pop more).

I took a lot of inspiration from the 3 images I show below (the middle one is from Lisa Folawiyo, a Nigerian fashion designer- the other’s locations are shown in the images). I wound up really liking the middle model’s hairstyle so I stole it, haha.

I wanted to take heavy inspiration from current fashion trends from Nigeria- what do you guys think- are they too close in design to the images?

Anyways, I’m thinking I’m going to call her Melina- the name was recommended to me from an anon and I thought it fit her pretty well.

[kaeyeahsworld]

The Right Choice

content warning: mild abusive relationship, thoughts of cheating (but none actually) scumbag ex, mild violence, regret, big dick toji, eating out, female reader, fingering, orgasm, 18+, angst bcs I love writing it.

A/N: another tattoo artist Toji brain rot. Not proof read or edited pls don’t come after me, come after or for toji which ever works for u :D

It had been an entire year of your scumbag boyfriend setting up his own tattoo parlour right along side Toji’s.

Although in the initial days, your boyfriend’s place had done better compared to Toji’s simply because he was loud and obnoxious enough about his work, but when ultimately it came to finesse in the art Toji remained undefeated.

Toji’s calm but awkward manner with the clients made him an instant favourite in stark contrast to your boyfriend who only cared about the bucks.

With the tattoo parlours being almost beside each other, you often bumped into him. The first few times were just awkward but prolonged eye contacts, that went ahead to subtle smiles and Toji’s crinkling eyes, which at last proceeded to an awkward conversation.

“I see you around a lot. You work here?” He somehow mustered up the courage to ask you that, praying to the saints he hadn’t come off as creepy or overbearing.

Toji could never forget the first time he had laid his eyes upon you. It was late in the night while he was closing down, when he heard some voracious laughter coming off from Zack’s parlour. On the usual, he wouldn’t give two fucks if someone was even dying on Zack’s side but when curiosity got the best of him, he turned around and glimpsed at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

Only for the rose coloured glass to be broken when he got to know that you were dating Zack. The most narcissistic piece of douche Toji had ever come across.

He initially thought you might have been the same and somehow kept convincing himself to keep away, but none of that worked when you guys had started conversing.

You had met Zack at a concert and not knowing better started dating him and the year since then had been..well, bleak to say the least.

Zack was beyond your comprehension. He was everything you wished you were- loud, confident but the more you came closer to his world, the more distant you felt from him. The Zack that doted on you in the beginning and made out sloppily with this stinky breath was nowhere to be found these days. The Zack that was all up for late night video calls was now the same one who would leave you on delivered for 24 hours straight. Or should you say a different one. Still, you were a stubborn little one. Refusing to accept the reality of the situation.

To the add to the whole thing, was the guilt that was brought upon by your little crush on Toji. You would never cheat on your guy, but god Toji felt like he was everything you deserved and more.

His intense lingering gazes, his soft smiles, his gentle demeanour but the strength that had come with it. It gave you all the right shivers.

Ironically, the first time you guys spoke to each other was when you were trying to escape your boyfriend who was fighting with a customer about the design, when you had accidentally bumped into Toji.

Noticing the inked beauty peaking out on his forearm, you immediately realised that this was your favourite artists design.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah” Toji looked at you, trying to not let his heart eyes show,

“Is your tattoo Miyazaki’s work?” This question genuinely surprised Toji and gosh he prayed to the heavens to warn him if this is the part where he falls head over heels for you.

“Ya know him?”

“OF COURSE I DO??” You had screamed and almost pounced on his arm to admire the man’s work.

Toji had wondered then how your eyes would light up if you got to know he had trained under the said artist.

Fast forward past a few more of “accidental” bumps into each other, and some lighthearted conversations about everything and nothing under the sun, in a few moments and both of you could sense the undeniable attraction you had felt towards each other.

But neither of you ever crossed the line. You were a woman, taken, and he was a man who respected your choices no matter how strange or..shitty.

You couldn’t help but notice how different Toji was around you and when you were together with Zack.

The kind demeanour he held was immediately replaced by indifference whenever he would see you with your boyfriend who would pass on a snarky reply just to irk the said man.

Toji could easily give Zack 2 broken legs with how big he was, but one look into your doe eyes and he couldn’t even bring himself to look in your direction except throwing a finger off to the other guy.

But nothing could keep you away from each other especially during those lonely wistful nights.

You lying in your bed with your fuck ass boyfriend wasted somewhere, fingers plunging deep into your warm cunt and a heart full of regret, guilt and most of it all, lust for Toji. Nights that went away calling out his name in small whispers imagining his large hands that would envelope you and touch in all the right ways nobody ever could. Making you see stars and kissing you through the bliss.

Toji was no better. Stroking his cock in anguish, lusting after you like a beast in heat. Your plump lips, your sexy fucking hips that he would dip kisses all over, if you were his, your luscious skin that he would worship and mark, you were going to be the death of him.

But when the nights slipped away and dawn broke and as in when in you guys bumped into each other, it was the same all over. Hidden glances and lazy longing that would never translate into something more.

Until it had.

You shouldn’t have come to the parlour today. Things had been rocky between you and Zack for a few weeks now.

He had been smoking up all the money and refusing to take even the simplest of clients just out of sheer audacity and worst of all, paid no heed to your words more than ever.

Going to the parlour, at 2 am in the night after getting a call about the ruckus your boyfriend had caused and setting the damn curtains on fire, you immediately ran over only to come across the most drunk and high Zack had ever been, amidst scattered flames.

You knew from your experience to be better than to be around him when he intoxicated but the situation at hand was not helping. If only you hadn’t invested money out of blind stupidity into his tattoo parlour, maybe you would have been spared this ordeal today.

“Drag this bastard away miss OR we are gonna call the cops on y’all” said a stranger trying to control him.

“I’m so sorry about this”

“WHO…THE FUCK..lem..me gooo you little..bitch..”

“Baby listen to me, you aren’t in the right mind let’s get out of here..”

Zack had always been rough with you but never violent but it seemed like that was about to change tonight, when he grabbed you by your shirt collar and harshly dragged you towards him.

��ZACK! LET..ME GO!”

“Fuck youu..you” but before he could bring his face towards you, came a dangerous hit that probably bore into the drunkard’s skull.

“Hands away you sick fuck.” said the seething voice.

It was Toji. More than the pain, all you could think about was the relief that had washed over you on seeing Toji’ eyes that were ablaze with fury.

Before you could even say anything, he grabbed your wrist towards his motorbike and plopping helmets on both of you, drove away to your address.

He drove like the man he was at the moment- fast, angry and menacing. You clutched onto his waist for you dear life and that was the only thing, that calmed Toji a little bit.

You were here, he was here with you and you were safe and that was all he needed.

But in the half an hour that he drove both of you in utter silence, the events of the night slowly came crashing back to you.

Longing that turned into regret and that had now taken its ugly form of shame. Shame for who you were and who you had chosen to be with.

Sensing your hasty breaths on his back, Toji slowly parked his bike near the sea shore.

Even with unbearable longing like his, Toji had made it a point to never touch you. He would only do that when you were his completely mind, body and soul.

Tonight was the first time and he didn’t like it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to face Toji and when he slowly grabbed your chin to look at him, the sight before him tore his heart apart.

Tears welled up in your eyes and dripped down your soft cheeks like pearls, if Toji was a god he would be raging a war by now. But he was a mere mortal and all he could do was engulf you into him. Arms all around, caging you and protecting you, while you stained his jacket with your sobbing.

After the night had passed and somehow returning to your apartment with his help, you didn’t leave the confines of it for almost 2 weeks. Except for the occasional knocks from the said man or a get well soon bouquet, he had not spoken a word more to you, just as you hadn’t.

Both of you knew it was your decision in the end.

Almost as a sign, you got the news from your friends that Zack had ran away the same night as the police tried to catch a hold of him. Nobody knew where to and neither of them cared enough to find out.

The last checkpoint was having a conversation with Toji.

As you slowly approached his parlour, the ever so familiar but distant end of the tattoo street, one end of which was burnt ashes and the other end bustling with less customers compared to the usual, you awkwardly knocked on the clean glass door.

“Here inside” said Toji’s low baritone from the room within, as you noticed him deeply zoned in into his work on an old man and mistaking you for a customer.

You decided to wait outside in the waiting hall. It felt only right. It was only right to apologise for whatever had happened.

He had waited for you so patiently always, a steady wall that you had come to lean on unknowingly through the past few months and he never once asked anything in return. You loved him and you would wait for him just as long.

After being done and billing up the customer half an hour later, Toji peeked into the waiting hall to see who had checked in while he was working when his heart raced at the sight.

Here you were, in a soft white dress that had flown gently till your knees and straps falling agonisingly over your shoulder, looking like the sweetest angel and not to forget, with a small flower in hand. A delicate little rose and upon seeing Toji in all his black top and pants glory your heart welled up just as much as.

“Toji…I didn’t want to disturb you..so”

“You should have. You can always disturb me you know that right?”

He wanted to hug her. Touch her face, kiss her locks and smooch her lips. His restraint was a tight string waiting to break.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” His voice came off tighter than usual. With tears in your eyes and slowly offering him the small flower you found on your way here, you asked him

“Toji, can I get a tattoo?”

This took him by surprise. He didn’t know what he was expecting but tattooing you was definitely last on his list. Heaving a sigh, he gently took your fingers and the flower and moved you into the room with all his equipment.

Nobody had given him flowers before. The simple gesture had set in an ache for your being that he couldn’t ever define even if he wanted to.

If you wanted to do it his way, so be it.

“Where do you want your tattoo miss? Based on that I can tell you how painful—“

“My lower back”

“What—“ before he could even say anything, you were stripping down from your dress, locking the door while Toji’s mind was reeling.

2 weeks you had disappeared and now you were here in front of him , half naked.

“You favourite work of Miyazaki. Can you ink it on me Toji?” Of course he would. He could never say no to you. Not when you looked so sweet, sitting right in his chair looking up at him with heart eyes. Legs on display all for him. In nothing but soft lace panties.

“Fuck…darling, what are you doing to me..” he said as he slowly grabbed a delicate stencil of one of his favourite art, a pattern of the moon, the cherry blossoms and a ripple through it all.

Toji was an excellent artist but he never had to work with a raging boner before. His pants were bursting to the sight in front of him, you in a relaxed state ready to be marked. Almost a dream.

“Are you sure baby?”

“Yes. But one thing before that.”

“Hm?”

“Can you kiss me Toji?”

That was the last straw and before you could even say anything, Toji was at your lips, grabbing you by the back of your head and devouring you. You deserved slow and gentle and Toji swore to himself he would take all his time with you, but not at this moment.

Months worth of pent up lust and more so, love and the result of it, was kisses that took your breath away. Nipping away at your lower lip gently, as you opened your mouth he plunged his warm tongue into you, making you moan in ecstacy.

“Hmpph— To..jii..hm!” “Gosh baby do you know how many times I have dreamt of doing this to you huh? Your luscious fucking lips that you keep tinting up with that gloss..fuck..”

Littering kisses all around your neck, under your ears, licking across your collar bones, your whimpers were honey to his ears. Slowly wrapping your hands around his nape, you whispered to his lips

“Take me Toji. Make me yours, please.”

That was all you had to say.

Kissing you harder than ever, Toji grabbed your waist. “Turned around for me baby. Let me take care of you” with your back arching and on all fours on his chair, he ripped at your panties. You were a dripping mess and Toji was so close to coming in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“Toji..wait…it’s messy down there..stop—“

“Tell me girl. Did that fucker ever eat you out?” He asked venomously, slowly slipping in a finger into your sopping hole

“No-ughmm!!- he said it was too dir..ty..” his finger was so different from yours. Long and thick. If a finger alone was so delicious, you were sure you woud go crazy once his cock was in you.

“Proved himself to be a fucking moron once again. Well, you are all mine now. So let me treat your delicious cunt the right way baby yea?”

“Hmm—ahh!!” Dipping his face into your wet folds and antogonizingly licking up along them, eating you out from the back was Toji’s personal heaven. His nose bumping right into your sensitive clit and making you wetter by the second and now 2 of his fingers in your cunt, prodding you in all the right places sending shudders down your spine.

“Ride my face baby. Find your rhythm and make yourself feel good” Toji said and as he literally sucked and slurped at your folds and clit like a man starved. Spitting and licking and slightly pinching on your clit, in a few minutes, you were seeing stars that would normally take you so long.

“I’m cominggg Toji—!!!” Crying out and slumping over the chair.

Toji couldn’t get enough of you though. Marking you all over your back, letting red bruises blossom like petals, leaving you a sputtering mess.

He needed more. He needed you to cry his name out. Turning you around, he latched his lips onto your breast this time with a finger brushing on your clit lightly.

The wet muscle languidly brushing over your sensitive buds, teasing and biting and soothing it up again, you were so lost in pleasure, sure you would come from his attention to your breast alone.

“Faster toji..please..” “On your clit baby? Like this?” His gentle brushes had now turned into precise strokes and never in recent times had your dreamt of coming twice so quickly.

“Ahh!! Fuck!! Just like….that..I can’t! M gonna——cum..”

“Come for me good girl, let it all out… there ya go” and with the knot uncoiling, you came harder than ever.

“Such a good fucking girl for me” he whispered sinfully as he locked your lips in a gentle peck, making you ride out your high.

Little did Toji know that his sweet girl was minx in bed, all ready with her cunt clenching around for his cock. And he was all ready to give her the entire world, and of course his cock too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~••••~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: everytime I wrote Zack my brain kept going ‘gongaga’ send help.

A/N: just edited it a lil bit I’m so sorry for the all the typos 😭

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Kalim Al-Asim - Qasr Sultanate School Uniform Voice Lines

Qasr Sultanate Kalim does not have a vignette.

When Summoned: Hey, hey, you okay? Hold on, I'll make you some cold and delicious water!

Summon Line: Everyone says that the Wise Ruler of the Oasis was filled with curiosity, and was a generous spirit. His super fluffy beard was real neat, too～

Groooovy!!: I don't want some fake Jamil. I'm gonna become actual friends with the real guy!

Home: This uniform's pretty cool, too!

Swap Looks: Woah, my head feels so exposed!

Home Idle 1: I kinda really like this uniform, so maybe I'll make one for me to normally wear, too. What about you? Wouldn't it be great to match?

Home Idle 2: This kind of headwear is really popular in the Scalding Sands. It's said both the Wise Sultan and the Sorcerer of the Sands wore one like it.

Home Idle 3: In this dream, I was a part of the symphonic band club. Performing as a huge group was great and all, but it's just not the same without Lilia and Cater!

Home Idle - Login: The school in my dream was a pretty great place. Maybe I should ask my dad to actually make it here in the real world!

Home Idle - Groovy: I'm gonna do my best so me and Jamil can be friends in the real world, too! That's my goal: to be best of friends who can talk about anything with each other!

Home Tap 1: I wonder if we can get a statue of the Wise Sultan in a water fountain back at our dorm... Or maybe, we can just increase the number of fountains? Hmm, which should I do? I can't decide.

Home Tap 2: I hear the Wise Sultan really doted on his daughter. I really care about my family too.

Home Tap 3: Being here at Night Raven College was the first time I ever attended school. This might've been a dream, but it was kinda fun being at another school.

Home Tap 4: You're saying I was still pretty friendly even in my dream? Well, duh, it doesn't matter when, where, or how; you and me will always be friends!

Home Tap 5: You like my earrings? So, actually, it's designed to look like magic carpets! I really like them!

Home Tap - Groovy: I really liked how we kinda got to have a picnic out on those rugs and under the parasols. We should all do that again!

Duo: [KALIM]: Let's raise the roof, Rook! [ROOK]: As you wish, Kalim-kun!

Requested by Anonymous.

[musickgeek]

Happy (SDV Sebastian x Farmer!Reader)

945 words, unedited

Warnings: None

The first time you'd met Sebastian was the first Friday after your arrival in Pelican Town. You saw him bent over the pool table, lining up his shot. Your face got hot, and butterflies flew in your stomach. He looked so at peace, in his element. The small smile on his lips, and comfortable stance he took up. You were wondering how to introduce yourself, but Sam, who you'd met earlier in the day, waved you over. Nervous, you tried to walk over as casually as possible, brushing dirt and dust off your clothes. "Hey (Y/n), these are my friends Abigail, and Sebastian." Sebastian makes a shot, knocking a few of his balls into the pockets. Sam frowns, but quickly refocuses on introductions. He bumps Sebastian's shoulder with his own, almost teasing. "Sebastian, this is the new farmer girl." 

The dark haired boy looked at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Oh. You just moved in, right?" You nodded. "Cool." He pauses for a moment, as if thinking about it. "Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” You couldn't help the small laugh that came out. "I know it seems small and confining, but for me, some of the best memories of my life were made here with my grandfather." He nodded thoughtfully, accepting the answer. You found him to be so pretty, it almost embarrassed you. You'd just met the man for Yoba's sake! Oh well, you'd already decided you wanted to get to know him better.

~~~~~

You tried to speak to him every day, trying to figure out the things he liked. What do boys like him like? You came to an easy conclusion while in the mines. When you found a little piece of clear crystal. "You may think it's not much, but when in the right light," you moved it into the sun to show off how it glimmered, "it shows it's true worth." Just like him, you decided. And so your ventures into the mines became more frequent, finding colorful gems and crystals that Sebastian might like. 

You would walk in the house, scuffed up and dirty, but smiling widely. Robin would look at you strangely. You'd greet her cheerfully like you weren't bleeding and bruised before disappearing down the stairs to her sons room. She was confused for weeks until Sebastian asked her to build a shelf for him to display the fruits of your labor. 

~~~~~

"You know, I'm starting to think you're obsessed with me." He teased one Friday, you guys walking to the saloon together. "In your dreams!" It wasn't you fault, you thought. He was the one who plagued your mind with a late night motorcycle ride a few nights before. You found him working on his bike, and he suggested brining you along on time. You said you were scared, to which he promised to keep you safe. That moment played in your mind over and over like a broken record. You'd become a little clingier, and the fact that he'd noticed startled you. His phone chimed, luckily changing the subject. He frowned, and you asked what had happened.

"Sam isn't coming by tonight. He hurt himself on his skateboard earlier, and is stuck with Harvey tonight." Little did either of you know, it was a crafted lie designed by Sam and Abby to get you guys to hang out. "Do you know how to play pool?" 

"I get the idea, but I've never actually played. I don't know how to execute it, really." He gave his little smile that you adored. "Tonight is going to be interesting." He sped up, almost giddy at the idea of sharing his skills with you, leaving you to chase after him, laughing.

~~~~~

Your skin was on fire. His body had never been so close to yours. You could feel your face burning. You could feel his breath on your neck. His hand covered yours, his chest was pressed against your back. You could smell the woodsy scent of his room on him. To the other patrons, the act was innocent. He was just showing you how to line up a shot for pool. But to you, everything about this felt like carnal sin. You felt like you could pass out. The sound of the lively talk and music faded away, all you senses focused on him. Could he feel it too? You when for the shot, but were too distracted to make a hit. 

"You're even worse than Sam." He said, pulling away. "I'll just have to practice more." You insisted. "Oh, by the way, I found this for you." You pull the blue, teardrop shaped crystal out of your pocket. The shock on his face pleased you. He took it carefully, afraid of breaking it. "I really love this." 

"It's no big deal." You shrug. But he shakes his head, frowning deeply. "But it is, I know the lengths you have to go to for something like this, for any of the crystals you give me. You go down there all the time, risking your life just to give me some silly trinkets. I don't even understand why." Now you frown, feeling hurt. "I thought you liked them..." He realizes his mistake, and gets panicky. "No, I do, I really do! But...I like you more. Sometimes I wait at the rivers edge for you to come back. Just to know you're safe." 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. What was he saying? "I...I can handle myself, Seb. I promise. I do it because it makes you happy." He looks down, and smiles. You so badly wanted to kiss him. "(Y/n), you make me happy." 

[sapphire-writes]

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 4 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Dresses, sails, and thunderstorms oh my! You and Aemond are forced to work together and tensions rise.

word count: 6.4k

rating: Mature

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, angst, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, kissing

note: hope you enjoy my loves!!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected

You spent the days after you and Aemond’s conversation at the Wolf Den trying to avoid the Targaryen as much as possible. Which was much easier said than done. Both of you spent generous amounts of time helping Luke with Seasmoke, bickering with each other more than actually being helpful. 

“If you just let me do it-” you’d said, grabbing the paint roller from him.

Aemond had pursed his lips together in annoyance. “Like you could reach with those short legs-”

“Don’t talk about my legs!” you’d angrily hissed, “Don’t look at them, don’t think about them!”

“Believe me I’m not-”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You change your mind?” he’d asked, a sly grin on his face that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

“Get fucked,” you’d told him.

“Seems like you need it more than I do.”

Aemond had walked away from the interaction with paint splattered across his chest. 

Needless to say, the tension between you two was palpable. Even Baela had begun to notice it.

“You really hate him, huh?” she asks while holding up a dark blue dress and looking in the floor-length mirror.

You, Baela, and Helaena had traveled into the city for the day, shopping for dresses for the gala. Though Baela already has a dress picked out, she can’t stop eying the one she currently holds. You’ve been looking at dresses for the past half an hour, unsure of which you like best. 

Helaena’s the one who is truly enjoying herself, trying on various lengths, designs, and colors.

“Who?” you ask, picking out a gold dress. It’s nearly perfect, except for its ruffled collar with matching sleeves. You scrunch your nose with distaste, returning it to the hook.

“Aemond,” Baela says, dropping to an ottoman and pulling out her phone, “You seem to really bring out the worst in each other.”

“I don’t hate him,” you assure her, “He’s just….annoying.”

“Mhmm,” she says, scrolling through Instagram, “Can’t argue with that.”

You can feel your cheeks flush as you think back to your conversation with him at the Wolf Den. Was he seriously proposing a no-strings-attached situationship with you? And more importantly why? Though you can’t deny your curiosity. Floris Baratheon was clearly not happy that she wasn’t Aemond’s fuckbuddy anymore.

You’d run into her again a few days ago at the country club and the cheerful prom queen facade had been replaced with a much icier one. Clearly, she thought you and Aemond had something going on. Great. 

“Oh shit,” Baela says suddenly, eyes going wide.

“What?” you ask, still flicking through gowns.

“Nothing,” she says, pressing her phone against her chest. 

You tilt your head to the side as you turn to face her.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“Bae!”

You reach for her phone, trying to wrestle it from her grip. Helaena rounds the corner, a dress in her hands before seeing the scuffle and turning quickly away. You grab Baela’s phone, even as she continues to insist you shouldn’t look.

It’s Will Tyrell’s Instagram, a group picture on a boat. He looks good; shirtless, wearing a captain’s hat with his arm slung around a pretty blonde.

Fuck.

Baela’s eyes are apologetic. “I didn’t know he was seeing-”

“Whatever,” you tell her, giving her phone back, “It's fine, it's cool.”

“Are you sure?” Baela says, chewing her lip nervously, “Cause you just-”

“Bae,” you tell her, laughing slightly, “I had one conversation with the guy. I don’t own him.”

“Still,” she says, eyebrows concaving together, “Will is a nice guy. Nice guys don’t give their number out and then run off with CeCe Lannister-”

“Wait, that’s Cece?” you ask, “Cece rosebush burning Lannister?”

Helaena has reappeared, dressed in the gown she was previously holding, and rolls her eyes.

“Why do I keep hearing her name?” she grumbles, “You know, you say it again and she’ll appear. Like Beetlejuice.”

Baela holds the phone out and Helaena raises an eyebrow. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Baela says shaking her head, “No one disses my girl like this!”

“Please, there’s no way they’re a thing,” Helaena says, smoothing her dress and turning toward the mirror to admire herself, “Tyrell and Lannister just don’t match.”

Helaena’s dress is beautiful; a strapless, silvery blue color that falls just below her knee. 

“Cute,” Helaena says to herself, turning to the side to admire the curve of her ass, “Seriously, Y/N, shoot him a text.”

“You think I should?” you ask as Helaena bends over. Baela reaches over giving her ass a slap that makes Helaena yelp.

You shrug taking out your phone and sending a message. You watch the screen as the read receipt appears, along with three gray dots. You can’t help but smile, nibbling on your lower lip. 

“He’s typing,” you tell them, happiness swooping through your belly.

Helaena smirks. “Told you!”

Two hours. You’ve been left on read for two hours. 

God fucking dammit. 

Helaena’s smile is apologetic from the rearview mirror as she catches your eye. It’s the twelfth time you’ve checked. Those three little dots appeared and disappeared with no response from Will. 

“Guys are drama anyway,” Baela had said, “Who needs them.”

Easy for Baela to say. The girl hasn’t had a dry spell in years. But since your last one-night stand back at Honeyholt, you hadn’t hooked up with anyone else. And that was a while ago. Snow was on the ground. And you just couldn’t help but get your hopes up slightly with Will’s flirtation. No matter what the case, the rejection still stung. 

Baela could tell. She turns to you from the passenger side, peering over her sunglasses.

“Listen to me,” she begins, “You’re a bad bitch. If Will Tyrell can’t see that, then it's his loss.”

You roll your eyes.

“I know,” you tell her, “It’s fine, seriously. I barely know the guy.”

Baela goes to say something else when her phone begins to ring. She holds it up and you just make out the name Dad when she answers it.

“Yeah?” she says, her voice cold. You can hear the deep voice of Daemon Targaryen on the line as Baela removes her sunglasses, tossing them onto the dashboard. 

Helaena glances at Baela before turning the radio down. You’d been seriously vibing to Phoebe Bridgers. Baela brings a hand to her face, rubbing between her eyes. It’s a nervous habit of hers, one you often see when she’s got a big paper due or during finals season. 

“I don’t know, Dad,” she says with a sigh, “I’m…okay. Yes. I understand.” She bites her lip. “Of course I do. Yup. Yeah, bye.” You faintly hear Daemon’s voice say something along the lines of love you before Baela hangs up the phone. 

You don’t speak for a moment, driving in silence except for the low volume of Savior Complex humming through the speakers. 

“Everything okay?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah,” Baela says, running a hand through her curls, “Would you be cool grabbing dinner with Hel tonight while I go to Dragonstone?”

You reach out to touch her shoulder. “Of course.” 

“Ew no,” Helaena jokes, smiling at you through the rearview, “I actually can’t stand Y/N, you can’t leave me with her.”

“Hurtful!” you tell her, putting a hand on your chest in fake shock. Helaena snickers, but Baela barely cracks a smile.

“Rhaenyra wants dinner,” she tells you both, “With the whole family.”

A chill runs through you. While Baela had evaded dinner with her father due to the storm over a week ago, he clearly the kind of man who gets what he wants. 

“Well not the whole family,” Helaena argues playfully, “Cause that always goes oh so well.”

Baela groans, placing her feet on the seat, and holding her knees against her chest. 

“Trade places with me?” Baela begs her and Helaena shakes her head.

“Someone would notice cuz,” she says with an apologetic grimace, “Though maybe if I curled my hair?”

That earns a laugh from Baela, and she rubs her eyes. 

“This is gonna suck,” she moans.

“Probably,” Helaena agrees, and you smack her shoulder lightly, “But you’ll get through it. You always do Baela-boo.”

Baela drops her hands from her face, looking at Helaena. 

“Oh my god stop,” she says, though she’s smiling for real now.

“What?” Helaena asks innocently, “You don’t remember Baela-boo, and Rhaena-roo?”

“And don’t forget Helaena-hoo,” Baela says with a giggle, before turning to face you, “My mom…those were her nicknames for us. She thought she was so clever.”

“Which she was,” Helaena says, grinning, “Best nicknames ever. The boys were so jealous.”

“It was for the girls only,” Baela said, her smile full of emotion, “Laena-loo…Nyra-noo.” She clears her throat, looking down at her lap, “Silly.”

Baela Targaryen is one of the strongest people you know, in more ways than one. Your heart hurts watching how her lower lips wobbles as she plays with the rings on her fingers. 

“It’s adorable,” you tell her, smiling at your best friend fondly. Baela misses her mom so much, you can tell. 

“I think we can bring them back,” Helaena says with a nod, “Sure, we were nine when they were cool, but I think they hold up!”

Baela laughs and wipes a tear that’s fallen down her cheek. You squeeze her shoulder before giving her a hug, wrapping your arms around the passenger seat and her. It’s awkward, but Baela grabs your arm anyway, resting her chin on your forearm. 

“Oh, I love this song!” Helaena says, turning up the volume as the next song begins to play. 

You swing by Helaena’s house to drop off your dresses. She insists Alicent will want them dry-cleaned before the gala. After that, you decide to head down to the docks to see how the gang has been doing with Seasmoke that day. 

You hadn’t expected they would get a lot to get done in your absence. Rhaena had been tasked with babysitting the littles on Dragonstone while Rhaenyra and Daemon saw Jace off. He was headed on a solo sailing trip to the Vale and would return in a few weeks, just in time for the regatta.  Daeron had made his departure for Oldtown a few days ago, and Luke was clearly lost without his friend. 

“Get anything good done?” Baela hollered up to the boys from the dock. 

It looked like they were tidying up for the day, but Luke seemed agitated. Aegon was first to exit the ship, flashing a cheeky grin as he passed. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Luke says, running a hand through his curls, as he walks down the ramp. Aemond follows close behind, an exasperated expression on his face. You’ve been here two minutes and are already annoyed with him.

“What?”

“Jace ordered the sails from Iron Islands, but they arrived at Pyke and need to be checked out tonight before Greyjoy ships them here,” Luke tells you. 

“I’m not seeing the issue,” Helaena says, “Pyke’s a lot closer!”

Luke nods dramatically, tongue between his teeth. You think his right eye twitches.  

“I can’t go to Pyke because of the stupid dinner!” he says, face flushing, “Goddammit!”

“Hold up, calm down. It's okay, Aegon will go,” Helaena offers. 

Aegon frowns. “No, I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he answers, walking down the dock. 

Luke holds his arms out in frustration and Helaena looks ready to chase her elder brother off the dock. It’s like Aegon senses her glare, burning into the back of his head because he quickens his pace.

“Okay, then I’ll go,” Helaena offers, but Luke winces, “What?”

“Umm, no offense Hel…but I want someone who…you know…” he trails off, muttering something about ‘knowing how sails work.’

Helaena rolls her eyes before letting them land on Aemond. He tenses, standing up straighter, sensing the direction this is headed. 

“No,” he says immediately.

“Yes,” Helaena counters. 

“No.”

“Yes!” Helaena insists, “Aemond this is your fault, you fix it.” 

But Luke is shaking his head, eyes wide with panic.

“No way!” Luke argues, “He’ll sabotage me again, probably tear the-”

“Y/N will go with him!” Helaena offers, much to your surprise.

“What?” you and Aemond ask simultaneously. You shoot him an annoyed glare which he returns with one of his own.

“You’re unbiased, you’ll represent Luke and make sure Aemond’s not fucking around with anything,” Helaena says, “Come on it's perfect.”

Luke’s mouth twists into a frown, but he doesn’t disagree. You raise your eyebrows to your hairline. 

“Seriously?” you ask through clenched teeth. 

Helaena wets her lips nervously. “Look, Pyke isn’t that far. You can’t kill each other in that amount of time, I promise.”

“Oh, really? Can’t you come with us?” you beg, eyes wide. But Helaena shakes her head.

“Can’t, the bike only seats two,” she tells you with a shrug. 

Your heart drops into your stomach. “Bike?”

“This is your ride?” you ask, as Aemond leads you into the garage.

Of course, stupid Aemond drives a stupid motorcycle. The bike is huge, shiny, and black, gleaming in the streams of sunlight that come through the garage doors. 

“No, I’m stealing it,” he deadpans, holding out a helmet for you. 

“So funny,” you tell him, snatching the helmet from his hand. He’s got big hands; while he could hold the helmet in one of his hands, it takes both of your own. 

Aemond puts his own helmet on, straddling the bike before looking back at you.

“You getting on or what?” he snaps, patting the seat behind him.

“I’m going!” you tell him, hurrying to clip the helmet on your head. Your hands fumble with nerves, and you keep missing the clasp. You’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Straddling the back of Aemond Targaryen does not seem like the greatest idea for your first ride.  

Aemond groans, beckoning you forward with his hand. You scoot closer and he brings his hands to the clasps. You swallow, feeling his fingertips caress the skin under your chin as he secures the helmet. Your heart beats frantically in your chest as your eyes meet his. 

“You couldn’t figure that out?” Aemond insults and the spell is broken.

“Fuck off Targaryen,” you snap, getting on the back of the bike. 

The drive isn’t that long, but it scares the shit out of you. Aemond is a reckless driver. Though you wanted to remain cool, calm, and collected for the whole ordeal, you find yourself clinging to his back desperately, nails digging into his leather-clad pectorals as you press your face against him. He smells pretty good, an enticing mixture of cologne and the leather from his jacket. 

He weaves through traffic like a man who doesn’t fear death, going over the lines and in between cars. Several people honk at him, one man even leans out his car window to shout obscenities. By the time you reach Pyke you’re trembling like a leaf. 

Aemond turns off the bike, and you don’t release him. 

“Hello?” he asks, turning slightly.

“Don’t!” you squeak, eyes still shut, “Don’tdon’tdon’t-”

“We’ve stopped,” he assures you, “Don’t be a baby.”

You open your eyes slightly, and once you see that you’ve safely stopped, unwrap your arms from around him, standing on trembling legs. You unbuckle the helmet tossing it to the side, as Aemond gets off the bike, using his foot to flip the kickstand.

“You asshole!” you yell as he removes his helmet, running a hand through his hair. His grin is impish as he takes in your flustered expression.

“What?” he asks, placing the helmet on the seat of the bike.

“You’re insane!” you accuse, crossing your arms. 

“That’s unkind,” he muses, “You’ve hurt my feelings.”

“Do you even have feelings?” you quip and Aemond pokes his tongue against his cheek. You turn away from him, beginning to walk toward the small shop that lies next to a dock lined with sailboats. 

You can hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you. 

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumble and he chuckles behind you. 

Dalton Greyjoy greets you once you’re inside, the owner of Iron Sails in Pyke. A smaller location than Iron Islands. 

“The best in the west,” he boasts, grinning from ear to ear. His face is weathered from the sun and the sea. 

You and Aemond check over the sails three times, making sure everything is in order for them to be shipped to King’s Landing the following day. 

“Big beauty Seasmoke is,” Dalton muses, “You don’t see sails this size anymore.”

“Luke’s been working really hard,” you tell him, smiling politely, “He loves sailing.”

“That he does,” Dalton agrees, patting you on the hand. He pulls away, nervously glancing at Aemond. He’s been a little too friendly with you this afternoon, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. 

You’re actually thankful Aemond is here with you. Dalton clearly thinks you’re together, which is why his advances haven’t gone much further. Scary boyfriend privileges without the boyfriend part. You hope Aemond doesn’t notice but of course, that isn’t the case. He points it out as you’re leaving.

“He was awfully friendly,” he comments, handing you your helmet. You place it on your head. 

“Whatever,” you tell him, but before you can reach for the clasp, Aemond’s hands are there already. He clicks the strap into place adjusting it under your chin. Your cheeks burn and you blink rapidly at the kind gesture.

Aemond breaks away from your gaze looking up at the sky. The wind has begun to pick up and the air has a sudden chill to it.

“We better get going,” he says softly, “Storm’s coming.”

You barely make it back to King’s Landing when the rain begins to turn into a downpour. Aemond must have a remote control clicker for the five-car garage, because it opens automatically, sending warm light onto the driveway as you skid inside.

Even though the sky had just opened, you’re already soaked as Aemond shuts off the bike.

“Shit,” you curse, taking off the helmet.

The walkway is already flooding with water. Your eyes widen as lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

“There’s no way you’re making it to Driftmark,” Aemond muses, removing his own helmet.

Baela was supposed to swing by after dinner and grab you before returning to the island for the night. You reach for your phone, seeing a missed text from her and Helaena.

“What is it?” Aemond asks, stripping off his leather jacket. 

“Um, just Baela spending the night on Dragonstone,” you tell him.

Aemond shakes his head, “I’m sure she’s thrilled.”

“And Hel’s at Sara’s,” you finish. You watch him, neither of you moving.

“Come on,” he says, motioning with his head towards the door to the house. The garage doors begin to close behind you as you follow him inside. 

The house is dark and Aemond turns on a light in the kitchen as you enter.

“Mom?” he calls, “Aegon?” There is no reply. 

Aemond checks his own phone before shaking his head. 

“They’re not here?” you ask.

“Aegon’s god knows where,” Aemond grumbles, sliding his phone into his back pocket, “Mum’s out. Just us.”

Just us.

You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Aemond scratches the back of his neck, eyes falling to the floor. You glance around the room, eyes falling to the empty podium that once held the bust of Maegor Targaryen. 

Aemond moves to sit on the couch and you follow him. It’s large enough to fit several people and you sink into the cushions comfortably. Aemond leans back spreading his legs wide and placing his arms on the back of the couch. You can just spot his silver chain poking out from underneath his black t-shirt. He nearly catches you looking as he glances your way.

“Where’s your mom?” you ask, as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Helping with the auction stuff. She does a lot of volunteer work at the country club,” he tells you.

“That’s nice of her,” you tell him. 

“Mhmm,” he answers. 

It’s awkward, with nothing to bicker about. You find yourself wanting to fill the silence.

“Where do you go to school?” you ask, removing your shoes and tucking your feet up on the couch. 

“Citadel University,” he answers, to your surprise. Of course, he’s from CU, as all pretentious rich assholes are. 

“Figures,” you say with a snort, “You know what Honeyholt calls you?”

Aemond purses his lips, nodding for you to continue.

“Cunt university,” you snicker, even though it's not that clever. 

“I see why you go to Honeyholt,” he says smirking.

Your jaw drops.

“It’s a great school,” you argue.

“Sure,” he mockingly agrees, and your blood begins to boil.

“What are you studying anyway?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“Double major. History and philosophy,” he quips, “And yourself?”

“I’m undecided,” you tell him. 

“You’ve got lots to figure out,” he says, holding your gaze. Your face warms, butterflies gathering in your belly. 

Aemond doesn’t look away. His hand outstretched on the back of the couch suddenly seems too close like he could reach out and touch your arm with his fingertips. 

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, laughing a little as you say it, “What’s your deal anyway?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, tilting his head.

“This whole, thing,” you hold your hand up, referring to him, “The dick-sona.”

“Dick-sona?” he asks, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“What’s got you so fucked up?” you ask, “There must be a reason you’re so…”

“Forward?” he finishes your sentence for you. You hold his gaze. 

He’s thinking of the other night too. You can feel it. His proposition weighs heavy between you.

“Yes,” you agree.

“I just know what I want,” he tells you, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

You watch him, knowing there’s more to it that he’s not sharing. There’s a reason he’s being like this, keeping you and everyone else, at arm’s length. But you’re not going to push, no matter how curious you are. If Aemond Targaryen doesn’t want to share, that’s fine with you.

“Yeah,” you tell him, the back of your neck tingling, “So…”

“I can show you the guest room,” Aemond says suddenly, “I mean, who knows when the rain will let up. You’ll want to get some sleep if Baela’s coming for you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding, “That sounds good.”

You follow Aemond up the winding grand staircase, listening to the sound of rain pounding down on the windows. He leads you down the hall, opening a door revealing a large queen bed with a white comforter and several decorative pillows. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs, heading further down the hall.

He disappears through another door, coming out with a black shirt in his hands. He holds it out to you. 

“Here,” he says, “If you want to be more comfortable.”

You take it from him. “Thank you.”

He hums in response and you back into the room.

“There’s a bathroom too if you want to shower,” Aemond tells you as you nod. 

“Um goodnight,” you tell him, pressing your lips tightly together as you close the door. 

Holy shit.

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Stuck in King’s Landing. Alone. With Aemond. Your mind is racing, so you decide to take a long, cold shower to erase any dirty thoughts from your mind. 

It’s not like you can fuck him. Right? The guy doesn’t even like you. You check your phone once you’re done with your shower. Yup. You’re officially spending the night. And no text from Will. Left on read. AGAIN.

You slam your phone with a groan. Fuck it. Maybe sleeping with Aemond isn’t the worst idea. Maybe you do just need to get laid. Help each other out, as he said. You chew your lip nervously.

You hold the shirt up in front of your naked form. It’s huge, clearly his. You bring it to your nose, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and his cologne. It’s the same scent you smelled as you rode on his motorcycle, cheek pressed to his back. Expensive. Musky. Notes of amber. Fuck. 

You slide it over your head, and it falls in the middle of your thighs. No panties though. You sleep without them anyway so what’s it matter? You hop over to the bed, sit on top of it, and cradle one of the soft feather pillows in your lap. You can’t help but nervously chew your lip, thinking of Aemond down the hall. 

Screw this. 

You get up, tossing your pillow behind you, and head toward the door. Throwing it open you’re shocked to see Aemond already standing in front of it, hand raised as though he was going to knock. You release a startled squeak, stumbling backward on the balls of your feet. 

Aemond’s eye runs over your wet hair and scantily clad form, causing warmth to gather on your cheeks. You can’t help but do the same, eyes roaming the form-fitting white t-shirt he wears, down to the grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and back up to that fucking silver chain he wears. 

“Hey,” he says, wetting his lips, “I was just-”

You interrupt him with a chaste kiss on his lips. You pull away quickly, lips tingling. Aemond blinks as though he’s trying to process what just happened. Then, a smirk curls onto his handsome face, and he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle before reaching down, grabbing the back of your neck, and pulling you towards him. 

“I fucking knew it,” he growls.

He connects your lips, kissing you deeper this time; his tongue slipping through the seal of your lips with ease. Aemond’s hand remains firmly on the back of your neck, long fingers curling around your throat while the other reaches to slam the door shut as he backs you into the room. Then he’s on you, pawing at your waist, reaching down to cup the swell of your ass, and squeezing so hard you gasp into his mouth. 

He’s a good kisser, much to your disappointment (well not really, deep down). You had hoped he wouldn’t live up to the cocky attitude he wears like armor.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, between kisses, his voice rough and seductive, sending a rush of warmth between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you breathe against his lips, feeling the sharp point of his nose press against your cheek.

“Super sure?” he breathes, lips ghosting against yours. He tastes like peppermint, like winter in the city.

“Yes,” you repeat, lips hungrily chasing his own in a desperate kiss, “I want you to fuck me, Aemond.”

He groans as you say it, pushing you back against the bed until your knees bend and your back hits the mattress. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his slim waist as he climbs on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. His lips are so soft and warm, you nearly whimper just from making out with him like it's your first time again. 

You can feel him smiling against you as you drag your hands underneath his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen flex underneath your touch. He breaks away for a moment, holding himself above you with one hand, using the other to pull his t-shirt off his body, throwing it to a corner of the room. 

You move to remove your own shirt- well his shirt- tossing it in the same direction. Aemond eyes your breasts hungrily, wasting no time bringing his mouth to your taut right nipple, swirling his tongue over the bud and sucking. You can feel the cool metal of his chain dragging across your breast, the juxtaposition driving you crazy.

You moan, digging your nails into his shoulder, and dragging them down his back harshly. Aemond gasps slightly, releasing your nipple and moving to the other, beginning to palm at the abandoned breast. His hand travels lower, slender fingers dragging down your sternum, over your belly button, and down toward your wet center. You can feel how drenched you are already, the stickiness that has formed between your thighs. You lift your hips, desperate for some friction, anything. 

Aemond’s fingers part your slick folds, barely touching you, just enough to make you bite your lower lip in anticipation.

“Fuck,” he moans, jaw slacking, “You’re so wet.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as you throw your head back against the pillows. Aemond smirks, sliding down your body to seat himself between your legs. 

“All talk,” he muses, pushing your legs back against the mattress.

You’re spread out for him like a feast. He curls his fingers into the meat of your thighs, before bringing his mouth to your left one. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the smooth skin, sucking harshly. You’re tingling everywhere, from the top of your head all the way down to your toes as he moves to do the same to your opposite thigh. 

He kisses the delicate flesh where your thigh meets your hip, dragging his lower lip against it as he looks up at you. His violet eye is hooded, the pupil dilated with lust. Aemond grips your right thigh, pulling you toward his face with ease, his nose bumping against your clit, causing you to jolt. 

“Aemond,” you whimper, and he moans in response.

“Oh I like that,” he murmurs, letting his tongue dart out to taste between your folds, “Say it again.”

Your heart is beating erratically in your chest, fire erupting in your belly with every swipe of his tongue against your slick folds. 

“Aemond,” you whine once more, “Oh fuck.” He wraps his lips around your clit, suckling on the sensitive nub, tongue flicking out to caress it. His eye watches you the entire time, studying your way, the way you react to each gentle flutter of his tongue. 

Your toes curl and your legs tremble at his attention. Fuck. Holy shit this is good. His tongue dips lower, momentarily abandoning your clit to prod at your entrance. Aemond releases his grip on your thighs to bring his hands to cup under your ass. He lifts you off the bed slightly, angling your upwards and plunging his tongue inside you.

A strangled cry leaves your lips as he works the smooth, wet muscle against your clenching walls. He moans as you cry out, squeezing your asscheeks harshly as he moves his face up and down, grinding his nose against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. You’re nearly there, legs tingling with your impending orgasm, when he lowers you to the bed.

He replaces his tongue with his fingers, easing one slender digit into your throbbing core. Aemond finds your G-spot with impressive precision, stroking the rough patch in tandem with the movements of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” you squeak, abdominal muscles clenching as he slips a second finger into your tight, wet heat. He crooks his fingers, pulling his mouth away from your clit momentarily to watch them slide in and out. 

“You like that?” he asks roughly, chin glistening with your slick.

“Yes,” you answer, a broken cry, “Fuck just like that-”

“Just like this?” he teases, pressing his opposite palm on your lower abdomen as he taunts you, “Yeah, that’s good, huh?” 

The added stimulation on your g-spot makes your vision blur as he drops his head to mouth your clit once more. The noises leaving your mouth are uncontrollable at this point, and you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed because it feels too fucking good for you to care.

Your legs shudder and you tangle your hands in his hair as your walls clench around his fingers and you cry out as your orgasm washes over you. You feel a rush of wetness as you finish, hear the squelching of Aemond’s fingers and the low, throaty moan he releases as he continues his ministrations with his fingers and tongue so you can ride out your orgasm. 

When your limbs have stilled, Aemond eases his fingers out of you, crawling on top of you once more, kissing you ferociously. You can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants and you move quickly, mind clouded by lust, fingers dipping below his waistline and freeing it. It's hot and heavy against your hand and you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You’re kissing him still, fuck you like kissing him, so you can’t see how his cock looks. 

But you feel it, as you stroke down the shaft. It just keeps going. 

You blink, pulling away from his lips, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking harshly in the smooth skin of your throat. You glance between you and him, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. Long, pale, and slightly curved upwards. Aemond Targaryen is well endowed. Aemond Targaryen has a perfect fucking cock.

This stupid bastard. 

You almost want to roll your eyes in frustration but then he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and any thought of annoyance with the man on top of you fades from your mind. 

“I have a condom,” he murmurs through a moan as you continue to stroke him. 

“Do you want me to…” you begin, wanting to return the favor.

“Not tonight,” he tells you, kissing your lips, “Let me be inside you.”

“Yes,” you agree, bucking your hips desperately, “Please-”

Aemond sits back on his haunches, reaching for his discarded sweatpants. He smirks while removing a condom from the pocket. He tears the foil with his teeth, sliding it on his length. 

“Please?” he teases, imitating you slightly, “You want my cock that bad?”

You’re breathing heavily, and nod. Aemond leans forward, his arms forming a cage around you. He guides his cock toward your center, dragging the tip through your slick folds. 

“Say it,” he demands, voice low and commanding.

“Please…I want your cock,” you whimper, cheeks aflame.

Aemond grins.

“Fuck that’s good,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss as he presses into you.

The delicious stretch of his cock steals the breath from your lungs as you adjust to his size of him. Your walls spasm, pussy fluttering desperately as he sheathes himself completely in your tight, wet heat. And then he’s rolling his hips, dragging his cock out to the tip and slamming back into you and you lose your last thread of sanity. 

Aemond pounds into you with long, hard, even strokes. The bedframe shakes, and he reaches up, holding the headboard to support himself as he thrusts into you.

“So fucking good…” he moans, “Perfect fucking pussy…fuck I knew you’d be perfect..”

You moan at his words, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Aemond hooks his free arm under your lower back, lifting your lower body off the bed. He’s so deep inside of you, the curve of his cock sliding against your G-spot perfectly with each thrust. It’s hard and dirty and you’re living for every second of it, pleasurable tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. 

Aemond’s jaw is slacked, eyes glued to your tits bouncing with every harsh thrust he delivers. He slides his hand down from your back, releasing you down onto the bed and sliding your leg over his shoulder. The new angle has you spilling moans and whimpers with every thrust, causing an open-mouthed smile to appear on Aemond’s face.

Cocky bastard. And he was right. He is that fucking good. Especially as he brings his hand to play with your clit, the pads of his fingers working lazy circles around the sensitive button. 

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks, his tone tantalizing, “You know you want to. Be my good little girl, yeah?”

“Fuck fuck!” you cry, thighs trembling, pussy clenching around his thick cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as you fall apart for the second time with a cry, “Oh she’s a good girl after all, huh? Just needed to be fucked real good.”

“Oh shit!” you cry as he continues thrusting into you, the overstimulation making you see stars.

“Gods this perfect tight little pussy, fuck,” he moans, stuttering as he finishes into the condom. He kisses you as he cums, tangling his tongue with yours, dragging another moan from your throat.

Aemond stays inside you a moment, before unsheathing his cock. He rolls next to you, removing the condom and throwing it into the trashcan. He turns back over to you, pulling you against him. You’re dazed, blinking sleepily as his fingers stroke your upper arm. 

“You need to go to the bathroom,” he murmurs, “And have some water. Then we’ll lay.”

You turn your face to him.

“Didn’t think you’d be into aftercare,” you tell him.

“It’s important,” he answers immediately, “For the chemical balance in your brain.”

“Okay Bill Nye,” you tell him, rising from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

You return a few moments later, climbing back into bed with him. He’s gone under the covers and you snuggle up next to him. 

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends with benefits,” you tell him, cheek pressed against his chest. Aemond releases a hum, the vibrations moving through you.

“Why not?” Aemond asks, fingers playing with your hair.

“We’re not friends, for one,” you tell him, bringing your hand to the one of his that lays on his stomach. You stroke your pointer finger over the back of his hand, tracing the veins. “And you’re annoying and irritating.”

“So?” Aemond asks, as though the statement doesn’t bother him in the slightest, “I just fucked your brains out.”

You feel the heat returning to your cheeks.

“I assume you enjoy getting your brains fucked out?” he asks, moving his hand to lace his fingers through his.

It’s your turn to hum in response.

“Alright,” you tell him, sitting up, “But if we’re doing this, we need some ground rules.”

“Perfect,” he says sitting up, “I agree.”

But just then, your phone lights up on the nightstand. You frown, reaching for it. You can still hear the rain and thunder outside, so you assume it's not Baela or Helaena. Your eyes widen when you read it. 

“Oh shit.”

note: I just can't keep things uncomplicated can I?? its a curse

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @diannnnsss, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @atherverybest, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[starsenha]

[1] ABOUT THE BOY - what do y'all think?

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual mid-day crowd. At a table near the window, you and your friends lounged, the sunlight casting a warm glow over your designer outfits. It was your usual spot, strategically chosen with the best possible view of everyone in the cafeteria. 

You were dressed in a sleek black outfit that screamed elegance, and you sipped on your iced latte, casually scrolling through your phone. Besides you, Yizhuo was engrossed in a conversation with Heeseung about the latest Parda collection while Sunoo animatedly recounted a story to Lia about something funny that happened in class. 

Just then, the cafeteria doors swung open, and in walked Sunghoon and Jake. The two looked effortlessly cool, Sunghoon with his tall, lean frame and calm demeanor, and Jake with his warm smile. Your attention immediately detracted from your phone when you saw an unfamiliar face. You raised your eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. 

‘’Who’s that?’’ You said, leaning in sloghlty as your eyes were fixated on Sunghoon. 

The question was casual, but your friends knew better. When you asked about someone, it was never out of simple curiosity. Yizhuo followed your gaze, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Which one? Tall, dark and broody? Or the one with puppy eyes?"

"The tall one," you said, smirking like it as an evidence. "You know i have a type."

Lia, who had been scrolling thourgh her phone, glanced up. "Ah, that's Park Sunghoon. He just transferred, I think he sued to study in another city or something."

"Oh yeah, I heard about him," Heeseung chimned in. "Doesn't talk much."

"He's hot though," Yizhuo said, tilting her head while she looked at the man while they in line to take their food.

"Who's the guy with him?" you asked.

"That's Jake. Super sweet guy," Sunoo said. "Can't believe you don't know him, though; you're in the same major."

"Am I?" you said, frowning, "I've never noticed him before."

"That's because you only notice people who either annoy you or attract you," Yizhuo said, giggling. "Jake's too nice to annoy and, let's be real, too nice to attract your attention."

Lia analyzed how you looked at Sunghoon and smirked. "Oooh, you've got a new target don't you?"

You finally tore your gaze from Sunghoon, a slow, calculating smile spreading across your face. "Maybe, he looks interesting," you said, leaning back in your chair, your smirk widening.

"I give it two weeks before he's wrapped around your finger," yizhuo said, nudging you playfully.

"Two weeks?" Sunoo gasped dramatically. "You're underestimating her. One week, tops."

The group laughed and the converstaion drifted back to lighter topics. You couldn't help but glance back at Sunghoon, though. He was sitting at a table now with his Jake, completely unaware of your eyes on him. Until Jake noticed.

He galnced over to the side whete you and your friends were sitting and he froze for a moment. He had seen you in class and on campus, of course, everyone had. But now, you were looking directly at them, or rather, at Sunghoon. Your gaze was intense, as if you were sizing him up. You were known for being the hottest girl on campus, and Jake, like every other guy, couldn’t help but feel a little flustered under your eyes.

He nudged Sunghoon with his elbow, interrupting the story he was telling about some thing that happened to him in Europe. "Hoon, don't look now, but I think Kim Yn is checking you out," he said in a low voice, trying to sound casual.

Sunghoon, who had been halfway thourgh a bit of his sandwich, paused and raised an eyebrow. He glanced up from his plate, not overly concerned but curious enough to follow his friend's gaze.

"Kim Yn? The queen bee or whatever you guys call her?" he asked, nonchalant.

"Yeah, her. Dude, she’s like the hottest girl in school. You haven’t noticed her before?" Jake asked, a little flustered.

Sunghoon shrugged, finally allowing his eyes to casually drift over to where you were sitting. You were chatting with your friends, but occasionally, you'd glance back in his direction, that smirk still playing on your lips. He had to admit, you were stunning. Even from a distance, your presence was magnetic—confident, poised, like you knew exactly how much attention you commanded.

"Yeah, I've seen her around. She's cute."

"Cute?" Jake nearly chocked on his food. "Bro, she's hot, like out of this world hot," he laughed in disbelief. "Every guy would kill for even a smile from her."

Sunghoon smirked a little, but his interest didn't seem to go beyond casual acknowledgment. "Yeah, sure, she's hot," he leaned back in his chair. "But i don't think I'll be joining the fan club. She seems a bit...much."

Jake gave him an incredulous look. "Hoon, you don't get it. She's like, the ultimate catch here. Rich, beautiful, smart. Everyone wants to be her or to be with her."

Sunghoon shrugged again, more interested in finishing his lunch than getting caught up in the hype. "She’s just another person, Jake. And if she’s used to everyone falling at her feet, then I’m definitely not interested. Besides, I’ve got more important things to focus on."

Jake shook his head, still half in shock at how unfazed Sunghoon was. He couldn’t help but steal another glance at you, who was now fully engaged in a conversation with your friends, laughing at something one of them had said.

"Man, I don’t know how you do it. If she was looking at me like that, I’d probably forget my own name." Jake said, grinning.

He chuckled, finally patting Jake's back. "Well, maybe she's looking at the worn guy, then," he said in an amazing tone. Go ahead; I won't stop you."

Jake blushed and shook his head with a laugh. "As if I'd even have a change. You're the one she's interested in."

Before Sunghoon could even respond, a bunch of girls started coming to their table. Their table had become somewhat a focal point, as girls had gathered around, giggling and fawning over Sunghoon, trying to catch his attention, who just offered them a small smile but did not seem particularly interested.

You noticed the scene unfold. Your eyes narrowed slighlty as you took in the sight of the girls. It wasn't jealousy, you didn't do jealousy, it was more a kind of possessiveness. If there was anyone who should be hitting his attention, it was you.

You leaned back in your chair, tossing your hair over your shoulder, a confident smirk playing on your lips.

"Looks like our new boy's quite the attraction," you said casually to your friends.

Yizhuo glanced over and chuckled, already guessing what was about to happen. "Oh no, here we go. You're gonna make a move aren't you?"

You didn't even bother answering before rising from your chair with a sly smile. You friends exchanged amused looks, all too familiar with your style. You never went unnoticed, and they knew that, once you get your sights on something, there was no stopping you.

As you made your way across the cafeteria, head turned. Conversation hushed and students watched as you walked with purpose. The girls surround Sunghoon and Jake noticed your appaorch, and as soon as they saw you, they slowly began to step back. They knew better than to compete with you.

You arrived at the table, smirking. "Mind if I join you?" you said, your voice smooth and commanding.

The girls around the table scattered, offering weak smiles and hurried excuses as they left. Within seconds, it was just you, Sunghoon, and Jake at the table. Jake was practically gawking at you, unable to believe that the Kim Yn was standing in front of them, speaking to them. Sunghoon, on the other hand, looked up at her with mild interest but didn’t seem as flustered as the others.

"Sure, have a seat," Sunghoon said calmly.

You slid into the seat next to Sunghoon with practiced grace, your eyes locking onto his. Your smile was dazzling, enough to make any guy’s heart race—any guy except, apparently, Sunghoon.

"I couldn't help but notice you're new here," you started your tone light and flirting. "I'm Yn, by the way. It's only fair that I introduce myself since, well, everyone knows me."

"Sunghoon. Nice to meet you, yn," he said, nodding politely.

You leaned in slightly, your smile never wavering. "Likewise. I couldn’t help but notice those girls buzzing around you earlier. But let’s be honest, they’re not exactly the best the school has to offer. I thought I’d step in and save you."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by your boldness. "Thanks, bit i can handle myself," he said coolly.

Your eyes sparkled with intrigue. You weren't used to this—most guys would be tripping over themselves to impress you, yet here was Sunghoon, completely unfazed.

"Well, in that case, how about I give you a proper tour of the campus? I could show you the spots that aren’t on the map."

Jake, still in awe of the whole interaction, couldn’t help but glance between you two, his heart racing just from being in the middle of this exchange. Sunghoon, however, remained indifferent. He shook his head slightly, a small smile on his lips. "Thanks for the offer, but Jake’s already promised to show me around. We’ve got it covered."

For a moment, you were speechless. No one had ever turned you down like that, and certainly not so casually. You blinked, quickly recovering your composure, but the shock was evident in your eyes.

"Jake? Really?" you said, incredulous, trying to mask your surprise.

Sunghoon nodded, his expression calm. "Yeah, we’ve known each other for a while. He’s got it under control."

Jake was practically glowing with pride, unable to believe that Sunghoon had just chosen him over you. You, however, were still processing what had just happened. For the first time in a long time, someone had actually said no to you.

"Well, I guess I’ll have to see if you’re still so sure after you’ve seen what the school really has to offer." you said, regaining your composure quickly and smiling, a hint of challenge in your voice.

He gave you a polite nod, "I'm sure i'll manage, but thanks for the offer though," you stared at him for a moment longer, your mind spinning. This was new territory for you, and it only made Sunghoon more interesting. But you weren't about to let it show. Instead, you flashed him one last charming smile before standing up.

"I'll leave you to it then, have a nice rest of your day boys," With that, you turned on your heel, your confidence never wavering, and walked back to your friends.

m.list / next

taglist: @arimiu @eleanorheartschishiya @i03jae @beomsitez

[yizmiu]

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

003. off the clock | smau + written (519)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

Y/n was working on her new collection in peace, with NCT blasting through her airpods, unable to hear anything from the outside world.

Meaning she didn’t hear the now familiar loud footsteps walking down the stairs.

Jay sighed as Heeseung was walking slightly faster than him, speed walking his way to greet the girl.

“Hi!” Heeseung said with excitement as he was now in Y/n’s peripheral vision. She shrieked, “You scared me!” her pencil smudged her design as she got scared.

“Sorry,” Heeseung chuckled apologetically. “What are you working on?” He peeked at her sketchpad.

“Something for my new collection—Jay, I need your opinion.” She turned around to meet the others back. “What is it?” Jay turned around, pieces of fabric in his hands.

“What do you think about these sketches? I’m going for something new, a sort of casual but something odd to make it pop.” Y/n showed Jay sketches of finished outfits.

“I like it, the funky socks will definitely make heads turn.” Y/n smiled at his feedback, ever since the two were freshman deep down she’s always admired Jay’s work of art.

“What are you working on?” Y/n asked, she’s been hesitant on asking so, but her curiosity is finally getting the best of her today. You can’t blame her, he’s been coming into the studio after hours with Heeseung following behind.

“New pieces for the fall, Heeseung is my model for the collection.” He nods his head towards Heeseung. “Y’know, Y/n, if you ever decide you want to release clothes for males I am always open to model for you!” Heeseung suggested as he slightly leaned against Jay’s table.

“Thanks, but I’ll probably ask my guy friends.” Y/n chuckles. “And besides, aren’t you always streaming?”

“True…worth a try I guess.” Heeseung smiles at the girl.

Heeseung tried his best not to interrupt the girl as she worked, he was bored out of his mind just standing there as Jay was dressing him up like a doll for hours.

“Y/n, what do you think about this?” Jay asked. Heeseung was wearing a knitted sweater with a bunch of different patches of colors and little details here and there.

“This is new,” Y/n was debating whether she liked it or not. “I know, I’m debating whether or not I like it myself.” Jay sighed. “Mrs. Jeong said I needed to go out of my comfort zone.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Heeseung definitely makes it look good.” Y/n chuckled.

“Thank you, Y/n!” Heeseung exclaimed. “How’s your work going?” He asked, standing still as Jay adjusted the sweater on him.

“It’s good, I think I’m gonna head out though, It’s getting late and my friends are all hanging out at Seunghan and Soobin’s place.”

“Tell them we say hi.” Jay said as he picked out a needle from his pin cushion. “Of course.” Y/n said as she packed up her things.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/n put her backpack on and waved goodbye. “Goodnight!” Y/n smiled as she walked up the stairs.

m.list — previous — next

ᯇ ೀ jayjay note ; ALSO chat this is how i imagine the studio but cutesy light color

ᯇ ೀ taglist ( open ) ; @lilacnini @haechology @heegyuwrld @wonyoungsvirus @enhaz1 @sparklingsjy @skzeyeu @euncsace @hotsforikeu @simjyunnie @yenqa @eleanorheartschishiya @ahnneyong @teddywonss @parkwonbinluvr @k1ttylvr @doulcie @wonifullove @woninluv @ilyjxdz @dimplewonie @grah127 @missychief1404 @eclipse-777 @heelee-01 @aerivrs @amesification @txtbrainrot

[lilliththefan]

Okay, I’m gonna do smthn I have never done before on this platform and that is to toss my hat into my thoughts concerning Crowley. Specifically, about her Fall.

Just how she said “Call it a nebula”, call this little crackhead theory: The Booksnatcher Theory (aka: Stealing Books and what it could mean for Season 3)

[Disclaimer: this is just smthn I cooked up randomly so don’t look at it too closely lol. Also I’m not sure if another person has thought of this as well, I just wanted to look at it on a certain angle teehee]

THAT OUT OF THE WAY!!! Let’s start off with what we know about Crowley’s Fall objectively (and by objectively, I mean what Neil has to say about it)

So it’s canon (confirmed via Neil Gaiman himself) that Crowley isn’t the best source for his experience concerning The Fall. According to Crowley, they Fell for two reasons: asking questions and hanging out with the wrong people.

Another interesting thing Neil noted was that Crowley isn’t as good as he likes to maintain while also not being THAT bad as Heaven portrays him to be. So what does that mean?

It could mean that Crowley did something he hasn’t admitted to doing yet.

Which brings me to the title of this random theory I thought of while drinking some milk tea; what if he snatched a book? This book in particular.

If you can barely read the title, you’ll notice that it has the title of “Nebula” along with some (probably) volume numbers that would help identify the book. It was also noted by Crowley that she “wasn’t the original concept designer but that he worked very closely with Upstairs on it.” As some people have pointed out, this was a habit Crowley also did in Hell: taking credit for an idea that wasn’t technically theirs.

Crossing your fingers like this typically means one is asking for luck, OR more poignantly in this scenario, outright lying to another person but not to God as a way to negate the lie you just said. Other people have noted this gesture as well!

Essentially, the theory goes like this: What if Crowley borrowed the Nebula book without prior knowledge or permission and used it to start the star factory without proper clearance?

That basically meant that Crowley stole a Heavenly document for their own gain and created something without an overseer’s approval. Even if it was to satiate their love and curiosity of stars, it still paints him in a bad light while simultaneously not being “that bad” of an angel.

For this theory, Crowley’s angel identity doesn’t matter tbh, you’re free to explore that in your own headcanons. But what matters for this theory, it mainly hinges on the idea that he stole something and did something out of line. Which isn’t all too out of character for Crowley, as he mentioned pranking the cherubs with Beelzebub and threats of the Book of Life.

SPEAKING OF!!!

This brings me to the next part: Why does it matter if Crowley stole a book?

Because that means books can be stolen. And there is ONE particular Book that is currently a Chekov’s gun waiting to be fired.

NOW LET’S 👏 TALK 👏 THE 👏 METATRON 👏

Metatron overall is a VERY shady character, no surprise here. We know barely anything about the guy, which basically meant us (who are into angelology) had to go off of three main things: (1) he’s the Voice of God, (2) he was once human favored by God, and (3) he’s the Scribe to the Book of Life.

So here’s the thing about point 1 and point 2…

…okay so Metatron doesn’t ACTUALLY talk to God and he was never human in the first place, which means out of everything so far, point 3 is the only thing that still remains as true.

What does that mean, then? It means, in the context of this theory, the Metatron would probably be keeping that Book under lock and key in the best way possible: by controlling any single angel (former or current) that has shown instances of showing interest towards knowledge they shouldn’t have.

Which means that it makes sense to make Crowley Fall, if she has been known to steal books. Aziraphale could easily be put under the Metatron’s control due to conditioning. Hell (heh), even Michael backed down the moment Metatron revealed himself.

But there’s one surprising addition to the growing count of angels (and demon) who have an interest in books and that is Muriel.

Muriel was seen by Metatron as a purveyor of books, expressing excitement and curiosity toward humanity and their culture. That kind of curiosity could be dangerous to Metaton, especially if you consider that Muriel basically now knows a demon who has clearance to certain files.

So, in Metatron’s mind, the probability of Muriel stealing the Book of Life might be probable. Not saying it will happen, but the chance of it happening does exist.

It would be an interesting twist ngl, while also making total sense for Muriel. They’re a scrivener, it’s kinda in their nature to validate documents and books fall under that category. We even see them validate the contract between God and Satan during the events of the Book of Job, so it kinda feels like a normal progression for them; the underdog lowest ranking angel overseeing the most important artifact Heaven has.

Hence why the Metatron probably stationed them down on Earth. Not only as someone to look after the bookshop but also to keep them away from looking into Heaven’s libraries.

All in all, this lil theory hinges on the fact that books are important in the Good Omens-verse, from Agnes Nutter’s book of prophecies to the Book of Life. Which also kinda has some symbolism attached to it: Books contain knowledge, and knowledge is power.

And if Metatron has a monopoly on knowledge, less people would be less inclined to ask questions.

But see, that’s the thing.

The questions will always remain, regardless if you’re an angel or a demon. So now, I end this theory/tirade/meta of mine with my own inquiry: If you have a question no one wishes to reply to, how far will you go to get your answer?

P.S: So you know how the Metatron is the de-facto writer of the Book of Life in this scenario?

…yeah…

[tarttheart]

DESIGNATED DRIVER - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you spend a night out before Jamie picks you up and takes you home.

word count: 800+

warnings: language, alcohol consumption

It was Friday night. One of your good friends from work was leaving which could only mean it was going to be a long fucking night out on the town.

You messaged Jamie to let him know you would be home late and not to wait up because lord alone knew what time you would actually be done.

Jamie: text when you’re done yeh? I’ll come get ya

You: don’t worry about it, I’ll take a taxi.

You smiled and pocketed your phone appreciating the thought but not wanting to trouble your boyfriend who was going to be up at 4am to start his daily workout.

It was the third bar of the night and you were about nine drinks deep and making merry with your workmates. Everyone laughed at the odd tales another colleague’s girlfriend brought to the table and reminisced about all the crazy nights they had had prior to this one.

One more stop, one more stop. It was your last drink of the night and you watched on as the group played darts. It had been a long one and you were tired. What you would give to teleport home and snuggle up to Jamie. You smiled at the thought although you knew the last thing you wanted to do was wake him when you got into bed that night. Poor thing definitely needed his beauty sleep.

Jamie: surely you’re done soon?

You: go to sleep babe, I’ll be heading home soon.

Jamie: don’t move a fucking muscle, I’ll be there soon.

You supported one of your managers in his quest to stay upright while the rest of the group finished their game of darts before everyone made their way to the nearby kebab shop. While you were hungry, a kebab just did not seem appealing. There was no way you would feel comfortable taking a messy kebab into Jamie’s expensive car. Even though you knew he would tolerate it for you, you were also well aware that it would hurt his soul if you got anything dirty.

You stood with the group as everyone took their time finishing their kebabs on the side of the road.

“What are you waiting for?” One of them asked as you stood without any food and had made no effort to hail down a taxi yet.

“My boyfriend is coming to pick me.”

“Ooooooh,” one of your friends teased.

You blushed. While it was common knowledge that you had a boyfriend, his identity remained a mystery to most. He never joined the merriment given his strict workout regimen and you never brought it up because the last thing you wanted it to sound like was bragging. Yes, most of your mates were guys and they were not going to ask to be hooked up with a soccer player but it still was not something you were going to openly advertise.

“That’s a sick car,” one of the guys commented as the flashy car you know so well made its way down the street.

“Well, that’s my ride,” you said as casually as you could while waving Jamie down to the surprise of the group.

“Holy fucking shit,” another colleague swore, “is that Jamie Tartt?”

You got in and gave Jamie a little peck before waving your final goodbye to some of the shocked faces. You felt bad that one of your best friends from work was going to have to field the questions but not enough to dwell on it.

“Do you work with any girls?” Jamie asked and you knew it came from a place of curiosity and not jealousy. Okay, maybe a little bit of jealousy.

“I do, they’ve already left.”

“Right, right. Drank them under the table, did yeh? How much have you had to drink, love?”

You slowly counted up the rounds in your head before responding with a sheepish “11”.

Jamie shook his head and laughed. Your alcohol tolerance was one of those things that surprised most people and while you were slightly embarrassed by its implications, you were also proud of being able to hold your own in a male-dominated team. Being able to drink your weight in alcohol meant you had been quickly accepted as one of the team and it made a chunk of your job so much easier when you were able to become friendly with most of your colleagues over a pint or ten. Whether that was fair or not was debatable but you felt lucky to benefit from it.

Jamie grabbed the bottle of water in his console and forced it into your hands.

“Drink up, we don’t want you too hungover tomorrow.”

You nodded and took a big swig of water, enjoying how refreshing the plain beverage was after a night of alcohol.

“Missed you tonight,” you admitted.

Sure, it was fun having a big night out with good friends but it did not always measure up to cuddling with Jamie on the couch after dinner while you watched some TV.

“I missed you too, love,” he said, looking over with a smile as you watched him lovingly.

“Can’t wait to cuddle when we get home.”

“Me too.”

[ruthytwoshakes]

Howdy everyone!! I got super inspired by @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense class swap au and wanted to try my hand at it!

I really love these designs!! If people like them too I’ll make some full refs and make some more content with them. I probably will anyway because I have so many ideas.

Under the keep reading I added wayyy too much description if you’re interested. You are interested you will read I’m using my evil mind magic to make you want to read

(I’ll address them by their names to make it less confusing btw. Pyro and Spy are called Demonan and Soldier though. I’ll name them one day probably)

For Medic and Heavy I kinda swapped their backstories and personalities. Misha is an only child who comes from a family of, fucked up to say the least, doctors. He lost his medical license for stealing the entirety of a patient’s skin. Misha is much more of a hardass with a superiority complex. Cold and callous. He takes himself and his work very seriously,, thinks he is very scary. The other mercs don’t really give a shit, which infuriates him to no end. He cares about his teammates! somewhere deep down inside ,, like really far down. Probably. Really attached to his tools, names them like how the original Heavy names his guns. He’s pretty fluent with English.

Ludwig is much more silly and caring. He’s the youngest sibling out of his 3 sisters, and took this job because he feels obligated to pay back his family for protecting him and helping him go through college. He’s not sadistic per se, more just, really loves the blood, guts, and carnage of war, and has a very morbid curiosity. He often accompanies the Medic when he's doing operations, if he's not already the patient himself. Misha adores how fascinated he is by all of it, and gladly answers and questions he may have. Very loud and extroverted,, his laughs can be heard from miles away. He kinda scares the other mercs, but he’s trying his best to tone it down. He has a horde of pigeons that just ,, follow him around. He doesn’t really know where they came from. His favorite is named Euripides. He’s intermediate at English.

For Sniper and Scout I kinda kept their backstories the same, they just had different personalities and life circumstances that led to them taking their respective jobs. Jeremy is the older brother of 7 little sisters. His mother had him when she was 16 and going through college, leading Jeremy to have to grow up fast. He and his mom have always had to pick up odd jobs to help pay the bills. One of Jeremy’s bosses took him out onto a shooting range one day and noticed he was a natural. He encouraged him to take up predator/invasive species control to help pay the bills and helped him get started, Jeremy eventually saved up enough to move to the northwest. As he got more skilled, some shady people took note and offered him some more,,, lucrative opportunities. He’s a hick with a slight Boston accent, making him all the more awkward. Pretty introverted, the only friends he's ever had is his little siblings. He’s quick-witted when he wants to be, but usually stays quiet. He seems pretty cold tough, but will change really quickly around little kids. Drinks way too many energy drinks to compensate for his insomnia.

Mick is an only child and basically the Australian version of Scout. Which is a terrifying concept!! he scares me. He’s a pretty extroverted guy, but was still bullied for his scrawny appearance and a lack of mustache hairs when he was little, so he devoted himself to becoming the best track runner in Australia. Also he couldn’t win a fight against anyone and he tended to piss off a lot of people, so running was a necessity. He doesn’t have any siblings, but he has a lot of older friends who treat him like a little brother. He likes to paint in his free time. Took the job to help support his parents and to explore the world, or just New Mexico. Annoying jock bastard. He wears those tank tops with the holes at the sides that just go all the way down,, not even a shirt at that point. Still throws piss at people because I think its really fucking funny.

Nobody quite knows where Soldier came from, not even herself. All she knows is that she’s a General, and a damn good one at that. Although his team would like to suggest otherwise. She’s loud and erratic, missing quite a few cogs in her brain. Not lead poisoned like the original soldier, I’m leaning towards a lobotomy that really melted his brain, soupe de cerveau or somethinf. Even though she lost her mind, she kept her great commanding skills and leads the team in attacks. He can be found planning and strategizing for the next round, or hanging out with the other team’s Demo. A bit silly, a bit goofy. Comically patriotic like the original Soldier. Parleys-tu Français, DO YOU SPEAK FRRRENCH ??? Non tu ne le fais pas, you don’t? FUCK YOU

Tavish and pyros personalities are a kinda combined? I just took little bits from both of them and squashed them together. Tavish is a pyromaniac hailing from Scotland. There’s rumors that he was the cause of the fire storm that rained down on Scotland for about a week, but he’s never confirmed or denied this. His voice isn’t all that muffled, his Scottish dialect is just so thick that nobody can understand him, except for Ms Pauling and Engineer like usual. Tavish can be pretty unstable and hyperactive, but an overall happy-go-lucky guy. Drinks responsibly most of the time! Still depressed! Lots of Molotov cocktails. His favorite animal is the Pegasus, and his life's goal is to find and tame one some day.

Dell is the same personality wise, just more like spy. So a bit more stuck up lol. He also shares the same care that the original spy shows for his team, as long as it benefits him along the way. Dell comes from a long family line of Spy’s that all worked for the Mann brothers, they stole Australium for them and kept them safe from other entity's that wanted to have control over the Australium too. His goggles have all that super cool spy stuff in them, night vision, cameras, a radio. Jane helped him add some new features as of late, . I'm not sure how to incorporate Dell's fascination with trans-humanism into this Dell quite yet. Maybe something to do with his senses? Name’s Spy. Spy Gaming.

Jane is pretty much the same silly little guy,, but now with 11 phds! And he’s not lead poisoned anymore! Nobody’s quite sure where Jane comes from, every time he’s asked he always changes up his backstory. He tends to slack off more than the original soldier, "A good hard-working American always knows when to take breaks!" He's also built a variety of raccoon-themed machines that get into mischief around the base. He and the Pyro are good buddies! He likes reading their stories, and gently encouraging them to write more. He's pretty strict when it comes to safety, and will come down hard on his teammates for messing around. THAT IS NOT OSHA APPROVED HEAD-WEAR MAGGOT!

Demoman is more like Tavish backstory-wise in this. They’re a midwesterner with way too much free time who blew up their family’s corn field by accident when they were little, oh and their parents. Their bio family crawled out from the remains of the farm and took them in after they proved themselves, even with their lack of tentacles and wings. (yeah their parents are the Great Old Ones, cthulhu guys, for sillies :3 ) They still like to do creative stuff (but adult-ified because adults are insecure about having fun for some reason.) like adult coloring books, or oil painting, or having adult tea parties. Demoland is a book that they're writing, and will TOTALLY 100% work on this weekend. They hate eye contact and have never been seen without their bombsuit on, except for Scout, but he can comprehend these otherworldy horrors perfectly fine so idk maybe you have a skill issue or something.

Heavy is Medic

Medic is Heavy

Sniper is Scout

Scout is Sniper

Spy is Soldier

Demoman is Pyro

Engineer is Spy

Soldier is Engineer

Pyro is Demoman

notes: I was thinking of making Dell Jeremy's father, but I didn't want to change up Jeremy's facial features too much, so Spy remains. Mick has that neck-mic thingy that soap from COD has because I was scrolling through soapghost on pintrest help. Soldier wasn't actually a general, I was thinking he was just somebody who knew too much. But after she got the lobotomy, I'm thinking she did something similar to soldier and tried to get into the military, and failed. Ludwig is the biggest on the team, with Misha having a more agile body type. Still a bear!! Just a bit smaller. This art is a bit old because I've been working on this since MAY?!?!??? ough. Maybe I'll swap some side characters as well! Pauling with Bidwell, Saxton with Helen, if ya want you could give me some suggestions 👁 👁 This is all Merasmus's fault some how, babygirl messes up the timeline for the sillies, the funny haha even. I love her <3333 Also sorry if the info for Jeremy is incorrect, I just thought it would be neat idk a whole lot about hunting.

[pureblisswrites]

A guide to getting kidnapped and escaping 101

Chapter 1: The Schrödinger's Kat

Prologue

"Alright then. If that's what you want." He sighed again before his eyes went dark and he leaned in closer towards you. "I should warn you beforehand though, curiosity killed the cat."

"And satisfaction brought it back." You reply.

Pairing: afab! Psychologist! Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Crime, mafia au, eventual romance, slow burn, comedy (an attempt was made)

Summary: You are a fairly renowned psychologist and therapist but definitely not renowned enough to be getting kidnapped in the middle of the night. Is it one of your past patients with a criminal record? You don't know what the kidnapper wants but now you finally find out.

This story takes place in the same universe as "A guide to accidental murder and cover up 101" but with a different reader. I suggest you can read that too if these kind of stories are your type. But both can be read as standalones too.

"Going somewhere doc?"

"Um no?" You try to lie. It was like your brain had turned into mush now that you were face to face with this scary unknown man.

He sighed deeply at your poor attempt at lying. "Please follow me." He said to you politely and started going into the direction you had come from. He didn't even turn once to see if you were following or not. You could try to run away but you doubted it would be useful in any way. So your best bet for now was to follow him. You saw as he removed his blood stained gloves swiftly and just dropped them on a table in the hallway, seemingly not bothered at all by the fact that he was staining the table in the process too. After many turns and taking a fucking lift to the 3rd floor, you finally reached the apparent destination as he opened a door and stepped to the side. "After you." He bowed lightly.

You stepped in to see the huge room. From the walls to the furniture, everything was the darkest shade of black. It had a huge glass window through which you could see the view of the city. The room was designed like an office of a rich ceo or something. A black table in the middle. With chairs on both sides. And a bookcase on the wall parallel to the window. It definitely did not have the kind of books you'd read because you could see a thick file with the word 'contracts' stamped on it with red. Another one was labeled as '0325 blueprints' with a black sharpie in messy handwriting.

That was all your eyes could take in before he cleared his throat and gestured for you to sit on a chair and took a seat behind the desk. "I apologise for staining your shirt. I'll have your clothes delivered to you soon." He said while folding his jacket's sleeves till his elbows. And oh his hands are very veiny for some reason.

"Uh... my clothes?" You ask in perplexity. Talking about clothes though, you notice he's wearing a black jacket with a red rose on it over his plain black shirt. You are just grateful his clothes aren't splashed with blood now.

"Oh right. I'm sure you would have many questions." No shit sherlock. "Please ask away whatever you want. I'll try my best to answer as long as the questions are appropriate." Appropriate? What did he think you were gonna question him about? His love life? Egoistical bastard. You wanted to roll your eyes but you would rather not test him for now.

"So... who are you?" The most important question. And the first one you asked your clients, although you had their information files with you. Oh how you wished you could have his information file.

"You can call me Chris." He answered with a slight and what you could only call proud smile. Did this guy really think he gave you a good answer? This was not some introductions meeting, you wanted to know what he did. Guess you'll have to be straight forward with him. Afterall he did say you could ask anything.

"What... work do you do?" You make sure to not say anything he might find offensive. Because you should be worrying about such a thing after seeing him literally splattered with blood.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that. It's... confidential, let's just say." Yeah you kind of knew he wouldn't tell you about him possibly committing murders just yet.

"Fine. Why am I here?"

"To cure me." He says while fidgeting with the two silver chain bracelets he's wearing on his wrists.

"Of what?" You question with furrowed brows.

"Uh I- I think I might be, and I don't know for sure of course, um going crazy." He mumbled nervously, a contradiction from the way he appeared in front of his men.

Now that interested you. Okay so maybe you were writing a potentially illegal research paper on criminals and their psychology but you couldn't agree to this, right? You did have access to talk to a handful of criminals but always under the surveillance of a camera with guards there. You couldn't ask the questions you wanted to. Not without raising suspicions about if you, yourself were a bit crazy. Plus he didn't look too threatening now that he wasn't covered in blood. And what will he even get out of hurting or murdering you? Atleast he wasn't one of the psychopaths whom you had reported to be sent in an asylum and he screamed "I'll kill you one day" and a bunch of other stuff you didn't wish to remember again as he was dragged away by the guards. And it wasn't like this man was hard to look at. Yes pretty privilege and the halo effect were very much really. You were a mere human afterall.

"That still doesn't explain why I'm here." You knew exactly why you were here by now but hearing what he had to say wouldn't hurt.

"Aren't you a doctor specifically for that?" He asked as if you were dumb. Maybe he was thinking you were stupid. Which is great. You don't want him thinking or rather, knowing that you're too smart, too soon.

"So... you need help?" You ask as if you are still confused.

"Whatever way you wanna put it I guess." So he couldn't even accept the fact that he needed help yet. Great.

"And you couldn't come to the hospital I work at like a normal person for that?"

"What do you think?" He raises an eyebrow and you have to accept he looks ridiculously attractive while doing so. Get it together, you scold yourself. "Look I can't tell you what it is that I do. But I think you're smart enough to know it's not something that allows me to just walk into government owned institutions." Oh you knew.

"I don't see how that's my problem? You couldn't find a private therapist or something?" Now this is something you hadn't actually figured out yet. Surely just hiring a private psychologist would be lot easier than whatever he was doing.

"Unfortunately for you and fortuantely for me, I don't settle for anything less than the best. And no private people were as qualified as you." Oh?

"How do you even know that?" You ask, now in actual confusion.

"A friend of mine attended your seminar on psychodynamic theory last year and he was thoroughly impressed by you. He was actually the one who reccomended you." Okay what the fuck? Only top detectives and goverment officers were allowed to attend that event as you had to go through some truly disturbing and stomach churning cases to explain your points. How did he even have friends there?

"How lucky for me." You remark sarcastically.

"I know this might be a difficult situation for you to adjust to and I'm deeply sorry for that. But please understand that there was no other way." He explains while brushing his dark hair out of his face.

"Oh sure, as if you couldn't just, I don't know drop by my home for a few sessions? Why do I have to be held captive to help you!?" Now you have to put your 2 years of being in drama club in high school to good use. You have to let him think you are just so distressed by this situation, as any normal person would be.

"What? No, no. You're not 'held captive' as you put it. I just needed to get you under my protection if I wanted to do this." Just as you think this man can't surprise you anymore, he says something that makes no sense in the image you are trying to put together of him.

"Why?"

"You don't think I've got people who are just dying to know my secrets that no one else does and the ones you'll get to know soon enough? They can kidnap you and not with the intention of getting... 'help', but with the intention of hurting you, unlike me. And I can't let that happen just because I'm an idiot who thinks there's something wrong with me." As soon as you heard the sentence "that no else does and the ones you'll get to know" your brain was overflowing with serotonin. In a world where everything was already discovered and no one kept secrets from you anymore, this sounded like the best reward you could get after hearing people's mediocre stories about their trust issues because that one boy broke their heart in 5th grade.

"'Think'? I haven't even talked to you that much yet and I already know there's a lot wrong with you. You don't think you can just murder people or do whatever it is that you do and live with a healthy conscience do you?" The fact that he "thought" there was something wrong with him was laughable at the best and downright sad at the worst.

He sighed again. "Right. But I want you to know that I'm not gonna force you to do this. If you don't want to do this, you're free to go. I mean you'll definitely need atleast a month of protection by my men because I know the news of you being here would've already reached to my... rivals, let's just put it that way."

"That reminds me, care to tell me how long have I been here for?"

He looks at his expensive looking watch before answering. "Somewhere between 20 to 22 hours." So it hadn't even been a day yet and his 'rivals' already knew about you being here? Just who was this man? He was like a messily wrapped present flowing wtih intrigue and enigma. So there was only one right answer at this point right?

"Kat and Nemo." You say, finally telling him the decision you made a while ago.

"Huh?"

"My pets. Get them here as soon as you can. They haven't eaten all day today, Oh my God."

"So- wait- does- does that mean you're doing this?" He asks in disbelief.

"No I just want to leave my pets here." You roll your eyes. "Of course, are you really that dense? And while you're at it, get my phone and laptop too." You could finally talk to him freely now that he had said he wouldn't hurt you... you think.

"Oh sorry I just still can't believe you agreed and-" he says incredulously.

"I'm sure we can talk later after you get my pets here." You get up to go to whatever room it was you were in.

"Where are you going?" He questions, standing up too.

"Back to that dungeon." You turn back to look at him.

"It's not a dungeon okay. If you don't like it, you can have another room." He stands right in front you.

"Fine then let me stay in your room." Yes he was hot but that wasn't the reason okay. Atleast not the only one. Maybe you would be able to study him more if you spent more time with him. For research, of course.

"What?" He asked dumbfoundedly. You were sure if he was drinking something right now, he would've choked.

"You heard me."

"Alright then. If that's what you want." He sighed again before his eyes went dark and he leaned in very close towards you. "I should warn you beforehand though, curiosity killed the cat." He whispers to you. So afterall he wasn't as dumb to not figure out your motivations yet. Yeah you didn't really do good in the drama club anyways.

"And satisfaction brought it back." You reply.

"Unfortunately nothing that is killed ever comes back to life." He says as if he's experienced it himself.

"Schrödinger's cat." You reply and watch his brows furrow. Of course he wouldn't know what that means.

"What does that mean?" He squints his eyes.

"Maybe I'll tell you some day." You shrug.

He rolls his eyes at that. "I'll send the contract to your room. Read it before signing." Wow so now you'll have to sign a contract? As if things couldn't get any more weird.

You were willing to do anything to unwrap the messily wrapped present that 'Chris' was. And maybe that was the first mistake you made before making many others that will lead you somwhere you couldn't even imagine yet.

A/N: look who posted finally after a whole month. I'm sorry for being late lol.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Tags: @scuzmunkie @obeythemasters

[vigilskeep]

Out of curiosity, what direction would you have taken Cullen's character in Inquisition? Or would you have included him at all? :3

oh man well

first of all i’m not sure i’m the best person to answer the question because i am profoundly uninterested in cullen. even in dao, his most cohesive appearance by a mile, where he features in my favourite origin, he um... he sure is there! he serves his narrative purpose! i don’t know what else to say

more in the spirit of actually answering your question, i think dragon age inquisition is as fundamentally incapable of making good use of cullen as a game that would make cullen part of its main squad inherently must be. dragon age inquisition is not capable of breaking down what is wrong with the templars, which is why you get... i don’t know why people call it a redemption arc even in quotation marks. he just shows up. he still supports the templars, and would rather you go to them, who shouted you down in the street, than the mages, who by all appearances straight up invite you over. he has not had to face the consequences of his work in the templar order or his treatment of mages; for all intents and purposes, from his perspective, all he did wrong was not notice that his knight-commander was an anomaly who was crazy. he is fundamentally the exact same guy who told me to my face mages were not people, except he’s polite about it now, because this is dragon age inquisition and we all just need to shut up and come together to defeat the Real Problems. it is completely canonically possible for him to have taken part in two circle annulments, one of which he personally instigated. dragon age inquisition does not care!

so to take cullen in a decent direction for his character—if you insisted on bothering to include him in yet another game at all—you would have to be writing him in a different game than the one where the hero has no choice but to lead an organisation with cassandra and cullen at their side, where every challenge to that organisation’s divine purpose is laughed off. (meanwhile one seemingly humble elven apostate, who actually has entirely other concerns, is the only compulsory mage. no rebel aligned mages are even optional companions in the game.)

i am interested in what it would theoretically take to write a compelling ex templar character. my own inquisitor is an ex templar! dragon age is a series designed to challenge your ideas of what backgrounds allies can come from, and designed to throw in your face that, for better or worse, good or evil, everyone on every side is also a person who believes they have their own reasons to do what they do. but if you wanted the ex templar character to be cullen, you have to challenge the foundations of his beliefs as a templar. you have to make him... actually regret being a templar? criticise the templars for anything other than imperfect service to the chantry and impolite wording of their deadly prejudices? you might even want to consider centring his personal quest on, hey, the terrible things he’s done and believed, not on the harm to the poor little stoic self-sacrificing templars

sorry this is coming across a little aggressive. you see why i’m the wrong person for the job. i don’t like cullen and he was an antagonistic force in the previous two games who my characters felt personally threatened by. i don’t see why i have to swallow that he’s one of the good guys now without him facing a single consequence, much like cassandra, who was introduced interrogating my friend. (but hey, this religious army has good intentions!) and i certainly don’t see why you would not only do all that but make him the face of a ludicrously flat, wish fulfillment romance only available for women of the conventionally attractive races (available for circle mages! with a throwaway line about how she’s not like the other girls to address it!) to get straight married and settle down with a dog and a picket fence. (i’m not saying there is no place for wish fulfillment romances whose only stumbling block is cutesy awkwardness. but that’s not what dragon age is for! where’s the teeth! it’s representative of a wider tone change in dai that i deeply dislike and if i get onto it i’m going to make this post so long. and with this man?)

idk i think cullen should have been the rogue templar breaking rules to hunt wardens in awakening and sigrun should’ve got to cut his head off. the end. that’s my ideal. sorry again

[phlurrii]

Out of curiosity, how come you dislike Ash? A lot of people seem to really like him, so it’d be interesting to see another point of view! Feel free to ignore this ask if you’d like tho.

To preface, as I know I’ll see them, if you guys like ash? That’s freaking awesome. Hands down, there is nothing wrong with loving a goober >;3

So Ash Lovers don’t take personal offense to my opinion, because that’s all is it, an opinion that in no, way shape, or form actually affects you X3

Anywho onto said opinion I know I’ll get flamed for!

So Ash just had the personality go a dish rag to me, he’s the most basic, run of a mill, boy protagonist. In the earlier seasons he wasn’t afraid to throw hands and be interesting, but they mellowed him down to be as predictable, 2 note, and “hero will do hero thing” as possible.

Not to mention the constant memory loss. He’s never allowed to grow as a character, I couldn’t ever get invested in anything because bro would forget it all in 20 minutes… and unlike status quo shows, this one is literally about growing to be the very best that ever was XD They wanted their cake and to eat it too, which made it really unfulfilling and boring to me even as a kiddo. They juggled between making him over powered and nerfing him into the floor. I think I gave up completely after the Kalos Championship battle where they shoe horned that loss in.

Not to say I really followed the anime, it was fine, a few episodes here and there I liked… but I purposely stopped watching after that forced loss. I think Ash worked really well for what he was suppose to be, with a lot of his fans being those that grew up with him from a very young age. Which is what he was made to appeal too, but I got into Pokémon at 8-9 years old, so he had no appeal to me in design, motives, growth, or even pokemon choice. Coupled with a lukewarm personality, garishly predictable stupidity, and his flaws just becoming annoying? He’s just not for me.

He was better in the movies at least ;V

Also please no one hate on folks who do love him, he is objectively fine, just not my cup of tea ;]

[pinkestmenace]

I'm having Hero of Yore thoughts today. I still haven't drawn my versions of them, but I did make some moodboards for Aegle and Castor (and his mech Pollux)!

First up and associated with yellow is Aegle, the Brilliant Botanist. They were originally trained as a healer, but they're stubborn as a weed and might not have the best bedside manners. There's a stark contrast between their bright and sunny robes and their somewhat sinister personality and ever-shrouded face. But Aegle could do more than heal. In fact, they became mainly an elemental mage and were perfectly capable of causing damage. Hippocratic oath? That hadn't been invented yet! Dark magic? More like an interesting experiment! Teaching the sheltered Galacta Knight to question authority? Easy as pie!

Aegle went all in on magic and didn't like technology much. Although they had to adapt and reluctantly admit science can do great things while working with their 'esteemed colleague', Castor.

Their staff (which is topped with what looks like a golden gem apple) let them create and guide water into sharp icicles, grow ensnaring vines to trap enemies and create blinding light. They loved botany, especially poisonous or carnivorous plants, and they also enjoyed enchanting and summoning magic weapons. It was them, alongside Galacta Knight, who invented the Spears of the Heart.

Name origin: I named them Lumio at first, but I changed it because:

It just means 'light', so it wasn't very original.

My brain kept flagging that name as a 'he' behind my back even though I decided the character was nonbinary pretty much the second I came up with them. Yes, I know this is stupid. Yes, the name change fixed it instantly. I hate this.

Anyway, since I'm apparently a sucker for sprinkling mythology into everything they're Aegle (dazzling light) now, which is the name of both:

The daughter of Asclepius and Lampetia, god of medicine and daughter of Helios, god of the sun respectively.

One of the Hesperides, nymphs of the evening/sunset and the shine of sunlight, who guarded a tree with immortality granting golden apples alongside a many headed dragon called Ladon. I had to do it.

Relationships with the other HoY: The reluctant conflict resolver (to get their quiet back), liked to study elemental magic with Galacta Knight. Tolerated Castor's pro-tech antics, but quietly disagreed because magitech can't work without magic, now can it? Mostly cordial towards Olympea.

Next up and associated with blue is Castor, the Enigmatic Engineer, alongside his mech Pollux, the Mechanical Marvel. Together they would be the Stalwart Symbionts.

A hard worker, Castor relied heavily on science and machines. He built a name for himself as a stern and austere man who has an uncanny knack for engineering and little tolerance for silliness, sentimentality and lazing around. While he designed many weapons in the past (mostly out of professional curiosity) and felt little guilt over that, he later dedicated much of his time towards developing improved prosthetic limbs. (With some reluctance he had to admit enchanting them offers benefits like allowing fine motor control and helping the wearer feel what they're touching.) He rarely showed it, but helping people did make him feel fulfilled.

In the little time off he let himself have he liked to paint. Not that he would ever show anyone this little hobby, of course! Just like he rarely let anyone see him outside of the cockpit of his mech Pollux. It's not easy to be taken seriously when you are ultimately just a squishy little guy, after all.

He and his mech Pollux were inseparable. It had the ability to boost and its battle mode was outfitted with several weapons. (I, uh, still need to figure out which ones. But probably laser beams, bombs or rockets. Possibly rocket fists. Maybe a sword like Metal General?) While Pollux was hardly alive, it was no mere machine. In some ways it was even autonomous. Did it care about Castor? Much like how the Robobot Armours Kirby used retrieved the memory of Kirby every time he entered one, Pollux's AI and memory could be transferred between bodies too. Almost as if it's immortal in a way.

So. You know how you fight Metal General in Egg Engines? Somebody had to have built it, right? Who's to say Castor didn't make a prototype before he perfected Pollux, but could not give it a heart? Perhaps he couldn't bring himself to scrap it and repurposed it as a security robot. Only to die and leave his lesser creation to roam its post forevermore, chained by its rigid programming.

Name origin: The two of them are of course named after the mythological twins/half-brothers Castor and Pollux, who were remarkable horsemen and boxers, as well as the namesake of the constellation Gemini. As the mortal Castor lay dying, Pollux sacrificed part of his immortality to let Castor live, after which they alternated between Olympus and Hades.

Relationships with the other HoY: Didn't like 'Aeon' at all, at least at first, thought he's stuck up (envied his inborn power). Bickered about whether technology or magic is better with Aegle, gave in sometimes but secretly shook his head at them because magic enjoyers use technology all the time while saying their magic is better (hypocrites)! He got along with Olympea the best (she liked his gadgets). This was not awkward whatsoever.

Themes

Because the Ancients fell apart into a technological and a magical faction I knew I wanted the four Heroes of Yore to reflect that. So I made them rely on magic and technology to varying degrees. Two all in on opposing sides and two in between. I did think about having them map to the classes in Super Kirby Clash, but figured that was too restrictive. Besides, Galacta Knight doesn't map to those either (unless you consider him the Sword Hero parallel). So while they do share some traits —like their pink, yellow, green and blue colour schemes— I decided they didn't have to match perfectly. 'Sword Hero' is actually Galacta Knight with his lance and shield, 'Hammer Lord' prefers a club over a hammer and has other weapons including a glaive, 'Beam Mage' has elements of 'Doctor Healmore', instead of a dedicated healer we have a mech user (who shoots laserbeams), etc. If you squint there are some parallels to the Dream Land quartet, but I didn't make each of them map perfectly to one person either.

[lazodiac]

There seemingly won't be a Planeswalker's Guide to Thunder Junction, sad to say, so it's time to stop delaying this.

Outlaws of Thunder Junction is the most recent Magic the Gathering set to release, taking place on a "fresh" plane- a place that has no sentient, sapient life. Initially populated by the Atiin people, nomads from another plane that moved here when the Omenpaths opened up the multiverse, everyone who decided to come on down to the Junction and make a new life for themselves has given themselves a bit of that old west flare.

But the question is; where are all our new friends from? In a burst of intellectual curiosity and bad decision making, lets actually do our best to figure that out, starting with... (some ground rules: only the subject matter of the card art matters. Instants and Sorceries will try to divine where the spell and cast are from to the best of my abilities. Please note this is mostly arbitrary.)

WHITE

... cool way to start. Based on the artistry of the Eversaloon's entryway I'm calling Kaladesh, it has the appropriate spirals.

The original printing of this card is Innistrad so you might be tempted to say this lovely lady is from there, but the style of wings, the way she is channeling Thunder through her gun, and the general vibe of the art tells me this is Dominaria.

This delightful feller is endemic to Thunder Junction! The armor has an Esperite flare but I'm counting this as not from another plane.

Aven Interrupter is our first one that's like, actually obvious. Owl aven have only been seen on Arcavios so until told otherwise, this friend is from there!

While we're seemingly not getting a Planeswalker's Guide for Thunder Junction, it was mentioned on twitter that Felidar are native to the plane. The particular design of the cat and horns suggest creatures native to the American West as well.

This abomination (Affectionate) of a pun features a local oxen and a Thunderous wind whipper. As much as a magical spell can be, this is from Thunder Junction proper.

Another native creature to the plane. I love the fluffy beards on these critters.

Now look at this bad boy! There's absolutely no known place in Magic the Gathering that a rabbit person like this could exist... yet anyway! I'm thinking this guy is from Bloomburrow (as is the Mole person from Murders at Karlov Manor, incidentally).

While this is noted as a spirit, the fact that it's an animus suggests to me this is more of a living mirage than an actual person. Native to Thunder Junction.

Eriette is the weirdly sympathetic wicked witch of the Wilds of Eldraine storyline, so this stunningly beautiful piece of artwork is from that storybook plane.

There's no real defining characteristics on this card to really peg where it's from... except! IT was mentioned on Twitter that Spree cards were meant to evoke big Western films, and this one is The Magnificent Seven... which means this lone survivor's from Kamigawa, because it'd be funny (and the spooky aura radiating out of these guys feels like a Reckoner thing). Hey, I did say these would be arbitrary sometimes.

The incredibly cool horse(?) of Annie "Haseya" Flash, one of the main stars of the story. Fortune comes and goes as she pleases, but Annie always finds her when the chips are down. I love this creature, and love Annie. I choose to believe Fortune's from the Atiin homeplane and came with her.

There are not a lot of places Dwarves can be from in Magic the Gathering... this doesn't have the exact sort of filigree you'd expect from Kaladesh, but consider the fine work and the tools being employed, this lovely fellow is likely from there.

The Sterling Company, our villainous lawmen for the plane! I'll talk about their leader later, but based on him, his style, and the impeccable fashion of his men, I'm saying they're from New Capenna.

Goddest boy in the multiverse Kellan Okoson is here to lasso an entire train to safety with his fey-natured vines. While I'd love to say this is from Eldraine because Kellan is from there, this is the natural fey-gifts he inherited from his shitty father, so they're from Oko's Plane.

This polite kidnapper is pretty clearly from Eldraine. I wonder what she left in the cacti's place though...

This is a tricky one. The way Thunder works on the ol' Junction is that it needs a loop to radiate through- thus the horsehoe on the blade. But that, plus the inner tang also being a loop, suggests this is a former Zendikari sword, modified from climbing equipment to chaos-channeling shock-sword.

Annie Flash digs up her past for one final job, and looks sweet as hell doing it. This is from the Atiin's plane, I'd reckon.

This guy could really be from anywhere, which is kind of the point of Thunder Junction- to give up your old life for a spell and see if a new you will work out. But the fact that his potions are so classical Fantasy Potions I'm saying he's from Dominaria.

This delightful little critter is native to Thunder Junction, and what a cutie he is. Did you know Prairie Dogs were a type of squirrel before seeing this card, because I didn't!

Fundamentally I have no real indication of where this guy could be from... but he's from Prosperity, the Sterling Company's roost, and his suit's got a bit of an armoured look to it... so I'm gonna say Kamigawa.

Look some of these just flatly aren't actually doable. The drones bouncing around suggests it could be from one of the planes that got those, but ultimately I think I'm going to have to put this as "yeah I got nothing".

I could have swore there was somewhere in the Wilds of Eldraine story that said these particular blue and white bovines belonged to the giants of the sky... and while I can't find it, I wanna say they're from Eldraine anyway. So I will, it just fits dangit!

This is definitely native to Thunder Junction. It's just got the vibe, you know?

Choke this one up to New Capenna- and if you think that's wrong, blame the Sterlings for having such fine coats.

Ditto for this one- though I'll note that the carriage and the train from the above card absolutely have that Kaladeshi vibe.

It' always fun to see what exactly gets turned into an instant or sorcery spell in flavor-first sets like this. This friend is from Thunder Junction, positive.

Another Sterling, another New Capenna ex-pat looking to make a name for herself. If it helps one of the city's of the plane, Omenport, leads directly to New Capenna, making it one of the most likely planes for people to naturally come from.

I will stop calling Sterling Company mooks New Capennan's when they stop looking like people from New Capenna. This is a sort of Aven you'd find there design wise.

Cute, designing a shield like a deputy star. This has no real markers signifying the people using it, but the subject of the art is clearly the shield itself, and this bad boy was made on Thunder Junction baby.

Only 30 images are allowed per port so check in soon for PART 2.

[casinotrio1965]

Disney Descendants : How Artie Met Tulip

by me and @hannahhook7744

Summary: How Artie Pendragon met the daughter of Lampwick and Tiger Lily.

.....

It was early fall and Tulip and the Rest of the cheerleaders at Neverland Academy were heading to a cheerleading competition in Camelot Heights, which Tulip was not excited for..

Finally after what seemed like hours the bus finally stopped at Camelot Heights.

Tulip and the other cheerleaders all got off the bus one by one where They were greeted by the Merlin and two distracted looking boys, around twelve years old.

The blonde one of which, who gave his shorter friend a friendly shove, was the one to catch Tulip's eye. Not that he noticed her in favor of laughing with his friend.

“Visola! Lovely to see you and your cheerers again.” Merlin greeted.

“Lovely to see you too, Merlin, “ Visola grinned. “ Anyway I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind giving us a tour of Camelot Heights , Since The Cheer competition isn’t until tomorrow ?”

“It would be my pleasure. If you don't mind my son and his friend tagging along?”

“Not at all!” The Mermaid assured the wizard.

“Don't worry, Dragonet and Artie will be on their best behavior.”

......

About two hours into the tour, was when Tulip decided to make conversation with one of the Camelot boys.

“The Architecture sure is swell here isn’t it ?”

Artie—or at least, who Tulip thought was Artie, she wasn't quite sure—gave her a blank look. Scrunching up his nose in confusion as he looked at the buildings around them before whispering to his friend. “Are buildings supposed to swell?”

The smaller boy—a brunette—choked, hiding his head in his hands. “Artie, that is not what she meant.”

“I mean, it’s incredible how well built these castles are! And those tapestries hanging on the walls are so pretty!”

“Oh. Yeah, super swell.” Artie still looked a bit confused, but didn't ask any further questions. “Thank… you?”

“No problem. Name’s Tulip Rossi by the way! My mom is Tiger Lily—she’s the headmistress and Tourney Coach at Neverland Academy—and my Dad is Lampwick—He’s a Trophy husband.”

The blonde gave her an odd look at that last comment. “Uh… I'm Artie Pendragon.”

Making Tulip finally realize why the name seemed so familiar.

And his friend? His friend just cackled at the expressions on both of their faces.

“You’re related to King Arthur?! That’s so cool!” Tulip exclaimed. “What’s it like being related to a legend like that?”

Artie looked uncomfortable.“Uh…I don't know. He's my dad.”

Tulip Having realized that she made the young boy uncomfortable toned down her excitement.

“Oh… I'm sorry I didn't mean to overwhelm you. Sometimes I get carried away.”

“It's fine.” Artie shrugged. “We need to catch up to the group.”

“Ok then ..” Tulip pulled out her smartphone and quickly picked up the pace. Only to find out there was no service here.

“Are you freaking kidding me ?! What do you mean there’s no service here you dumb thing !”

....

Artie fiddled with the small pink thing that Tulip called a phone, peering at every angle with curiosity. Paying no mind to the fact that Dragonet was leaning over his shoulder to get a look at what he was doing.

Tulip Gave them both a baffled look.

“Wow guys, you’re really fascinated with my phone, aren’t you?”

She thought for a moment.

“Hey do you guys wanna see the clothing sketches saved here?”

Artie eagerly nodded. “I love sketches!”

“Great !” She opened up her phone and tapped on the gallery app to show a bunch of clothing designs, all Pink and Green. “There’s more designs in my sketchbook but I left that at home. Your thoughts?”

“Cooooooooool.”

“Hey Artie, you should get her to design your armor—”

“I LOVE TO! Though I never worked with metal before, only fabrics..”

“That's fine.” Artie assured her. “These look great.”

“Thanks Artie. You’re really sweet.” Tulip Smiled at the young boy.

And that my friends, was the start of a beautiful friendship… which later grew into something more.

The End